#harry styles x black OC

[bed-chemist]

Oh, twenty-five years old Oh, how were you to know?

it's my birthday and i got my master's degree yesterday! celebrate with me by reading one of my fics. I'll be updating them soon. <3

─⋆ ❝all-american bitch❞ bodyguard michael b. jordan x president’s daughter oc ─⋆ ❝sweetest pie❞ chef joel x baker oc ─⋆ ❝karma❞ frat boy harry styles x sorority girl oc

love you all and thank you for a great year!

[whorediaries-09]

cardigan;

pairing- therapist!sirius black x reader warning(s)- none i can think of. let me know i should add any. a/n- i'm mentally deranged ( i have my mathematics exam tomorrow.)

ps- gonna post a fall event soon <3

masterlist

you drew stars around my scars but now I'm bleedin'

'you came,' you whisper, as you slowly open the door to your apartment. your eyes are clumped together with tears and old mascara. he smiles, his stormy eyes healing the storm which bubbles furiously within you.

'you called.' he says, tucking sweaty strands of your hair behind your ear. you offer him a shaky smile as he enters your house. something about the scent of his smoke and your incense sticks calms you. you tuck your lower lip under your teeth as his arms engulf your shaking body against his. you melt underneath the warmth of his touch, the softness of the sweater.

'it's okay, sweetbug.' he murmurs, his finger tantalizing the mess of your hair.

you feel hot tears pool in your eyes, as you tuck your lower lip underneath your teeth. his touch calms you, soothes you. but a voice screeches inside your head. he does this for money. he does this for your money. you want to push him away at the thought, but you can't. he feels comforting. he feels like a hot cup of cocoa on a christmas eve. he feels like the scent of incense that hangs around in your house. he feels like the shadows you'd chase at the grocery line as a kid. he feels like home.

'sweetness, it's okay to cry,' he whispers, as he holds you closer. there's a beat of silence before you break down again. your eyes spill tears of anger, shame, guilt and sorrow and you're clutching the wool of his cardigan. you shake violently with your heart drenching sobs and it kills you, but this feels better. better than the moment when his ink bleeds on paper while he listens to you. better than the moments when he talks to you about your issues. you want him to hold you close, but then again it's a professional setting.

'i shouldn't have called you,' you sob.

'it's okay love,' he soothes, placing a soft chaste kiss on your forehead. 'can you take some deep breathes for me darling?' he questions as you slowly try to calm yourself. your chest heaves against his, your throat scratchy but you take a few deep breathes. you hide your face against his chest,

'i'm sorry, sirius.' you say. you can hear his heartbeat against your eardrums, and it calms you.

'it's okay love,' he whispers, his nose hidden in your hair. he inhales the scent of your shampoo. his chest rumbles.

he feels like the comfort of your old cardigan.

[chainmailchalamet]

sugar high 🍒

synopsis: sugar daddy hs, always black n non-binary reader, established dynamic w/ some power play, possessive language, lil degradation, spit kink, mean dom(ish) hs, yktfv

Harry is…complex, by nature. He is a well curated structure of contradictions. He is a rockstar, an animal, a glossy beastly thing on stage. He glows under the spotlight, basking in all that concentrated attention with the air of a man who deserves every last drop. He is a hip roller, a tongue wagger, a dark eyed pretty boy dream. He’s sharp cut hips, tatted all over and wrapped up in glitter.

He is also a cream puff — that’s the version of him you met first, assisting a stylist on a Gucci suiting campaign. You’d steamed his double breasted coat, matched the ties to his green-glass eyes, buttoned him up all snug in his dress-shirt. And he’d blushed and dimpled his way through all of it. Told you that you didn’t have to do all that (“I kind of do, darling, it’s my job”), said please and thank you and stood where he was supposed to stand and made everyone laugh and look at him all fond because he was a professional sweetheart, an actual dream to work with. With the way he acted, you couldn’t tell he found you attractive until after the shoot wrapped and he walked up to you all bashful to ask for your number. It was the way he stated his intentions that got you, the way he said, soft and steady “anything you want, we can do anything you want as long as I can keep you company”.

He took you for squid ink pasta for the first date, because you’d never had it. He showed you how he liked his oysters (“a little lemon, just a squeeze..”) and how to tip them back into your mouth to taste them, and he watched the way your lips wrapped round the shell with a low heat gaze, kept his desire on the simmer like he didn’t want to scare him away. You let your inhibitions sink away into a glass of champagne, flirted with him in the same breath you talked his ear off about your job, about the books you were reading, about your vision for the future. He was so like you — the same raw ambition, the same comfort in the way you wore your skin that you’d both fought tooth and nail for, the same wicked tongue. You liked to make him blush, to tease him until he was giggling in faux offense (“it is not a whore house, it’s a family show, that’s the whole point!” “sir, at last show you sang the words “if you’re getting yourself wet for me”, and then rubbed your fingers together to demonstrate said wetness, those are the actions of a whore!”), until he let some of that babygirl cupcake act drop long enough to thumb some passion fruit sorbet from the corner of your lip and take it into his mouth, closing his eyes and groaning a little under his breath like you just tasted that good.

The second date was a flea market in the south of France. He prepared you with a simple instruction to pack light, and in response to your question about the cost of the train and accommodation and time off work he responded the same — kissed you on the temple and said “I’ll take care of all of it, you don’t have to worry about a thing, you can have anything you want, sweetheart”.

And then he did, took care of every detail — told your boss he was borrowing you for a shoot (“bring them back in one piece, styles, they’re one of our best” “mm, no promises”), got the both of you a private carriage so you could watch the grey London skyline fade away into lush fields of lavender, held your hand all the way, looked at you like you were the best view in sight, whisked you away to a cute little hostel where no one but the owners recognized him (the lady of the house absolutely fawned over him, called him strawberry boy, chided him for being gone for so long).

You used maybe two braincells that weekend — he made sure of that. Every whim, he tended to. If you wanted coffee, he went to the market and fetched you something freshly ground with notes of toffee and dark chocolate. If your stomach rumbled, he sat you down on the kitchen counter and fixed you lemon pasta, fed you dates by hand while the sauce settled, stole kisses in-between bites — cupped your face in his hands and licked into your mouth and said “feel so lucky, can’t believe your here, are you happy, what do you need, whatever you want, wanna give you everything…”.

You let him fuck you during that trip. After a dreamy morning picnicking with a jar of strawberry preserves and fresh bread and heavenly salted butter, and a whole day at the markets where he bought you a whole new wardrobe, gently insisting that he wanted to do this for you. “Harry, this is vintage alaïa, I don’t need that” you’d said. “You’re a stylist, sweetheart, might come in handy — and you’ve been eyeing it up since you saw it, at least try it on, yeah? See how you feel after”.

You’d tried it on, and it fit so perfect your mouth went a little dry — and his eyes on you, the way he smoothed his hands over your hips and told you that “you look so pretty, angel, prettiest fucking thing I ever saw” made you light-headed, running your thighs together in the dressing room. He liked doing that to you, putting you in pretty things, seeing you admire yourself. He bought you the alaïa, the cavalli handbag, a silk Gucci scarf — he was still polite, still your sweet thoughtful boy, but you could see through the cracks to what lay beneath that. The power he held over you, the obvious pleasure he took in being able to take care of you, showering you in nice things, the way he made you feel you didn’t have to think about anything when you were with him because he could do the thinking for you.

That’s the man that took you to bed. The one that told you to put your pretty new things away and wait for him in the bedroom while he tucked the groceries away. The one who met you with hungry eyes when he found you stripped down to your new chocolate brown agent provocateur set and kneeling on the bed and just clicked his tongue and asked you if he told you to do that. Tutted when you looked at him all confused and tried to explain yourself, shushed you and said (with the same quiet intensity as the first day he met you), “not your fault baby, didn’t have to think at all today, you’re just my pretty little doll, huh?”

that’s the Harry that felt every bit of your mouth with his fingers, pressed down on your tongue until you drooled a little and then made fun of you for it. The one that wouldn’t let you touch his dick until he worked you up so good that you thought you would cry, ran his tongue over the lace on your body, teased over every single sensitive inch of you until you were shaking and begging (“please, Harry please, just touch me, anything, anything” “look at you — pretty fucking mess for me, huh? wanna see you cry, baby, can’t give you my dick unless you ask real nice for me”).

He fucked you slow and deep with a hand wrapped around your neck, told you that one day he’d buy you something shiny to lay where his hand had been, but until then you’d just have to wear his fingers around your throat — told you that it was his favorite thing you’d tried on all day, called you his doll, his baby, his perfect little slut. “M’gonna give you everything you fucking want,” he said, licking the salt off your skin as it trailed down your cheek, pulling your head back to spit in your mouth and rub it into your tongue (“filthy thing, you like that? nuh-uh? you got real tight on me, baby, you must really like that”), rolling his hips and driving in hard until your eyes rolled back and you couldn’t even find your voice to beg him for more. “And you’re gonna let me, aren’t you? Not gonna fight me, are you baby? Just gonna let me take care of everything, I know what you need, daddy’s gonna give you fucking everything — that’s it, angel, just shut the fuck up and take it, you’re so good at that”.

He made you come like that, and then flipped you over, lifted your hips up and licked you out from the back, slapped you across the clit if you tried to run away from it, told you to “take it, don’t fucking run, gonna make a big mess aren’t you, show me, fuckin’ show me, that’s so good, you’re so good”, and then fucked you like that — pushed your face into the mattress and laid into you until you did make a mess, till you were drooling with it.

He was back in full sweetheart mode when he was done with you — ran you a bath and toweled you dry and held you in his arms till you fell asleep, kissed your head and said “thank you, baby, did so good for me, gave me everything I’ll ever need”. He was complex like that — a menace, an angel, a demon, a fucking fairytale prince. And you were lucky enough that you got to see every inch of it, bask in the flow of it.

[controversialpooh]

Happy New Year Tumblr Weirdos🎉🥳🎊

[stylesparadise]

Hi friends! I hope this post finds you well! I’m going to cut to the chase and say that I am once again looking for someone to (telegram) roleplay with!

My life has been a bit crazy lately, but I’m finding some inspiration and free time that I would love to put into a creative outlet to strengthen myself as a writer. I am over 21 so I request that my partners are the same, maybe 18+, but absolutely no minors. I’ve been writing for at least 9 years and would like to say that I’m well seasoned in this! I normally write a page (or more) depending on how well detailed the other response is so that I feel I can have enough to write off of. I’m more than okay with switching plots and trying new things so please do not hesitate to ask on any of those. I also get lives get in the way and I will put in here that I do work a full time early morning job!

I am interested in broadening from my normal and would like to search for someone to write for Sirius Black (or Harry Potter in general), Pedro Pascal or Joel Miller, and as always Harry Styles, One Direction (and solo!), 5SOS. if any of this interests you please message me and hopefully we can connect!

I do ask that you use “,” quotations when speaking, proper grammar and spelling, and are able to write in this lengthier responses (I understand short ones happen). I normally prefer doubles and would like to stick to that as I feel it’s only fair and wouldn’t want to make someone write as only a male lead. We can discuss everything else!

4.16.2023

[narrycherries]

ivy: an incandescent glow

She just wants to have a fun night out, but Harry has a tendency to ruin things..

[part 2]

masterlist // ivy series

word count: 10.9k

warnings/tags: enemies to lovers, harry x fem oc, angst

Although the week had been quite packed with things at work, Ivy had decided that maybe it would be best if she did go out for the night. It would only be for a few hours, and Niall had assured her when he came over the other night for dinner that it would be a good time. Emma begged a few times, of course, and she didn’t want to admit to giving in to her, but she did.. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to go out, it had simply been a while.

“Is Niall riding with us?” She asked Emma when she popped in Ivy’s room to borrow a pair of earrings that would better match her outfit.

“No, he’s going with Zayn. They usually go early to meet with the owner and stuff.” She explained as she looked in the mirror, slipping the earrings into her piercing holes. “He might ride back.. I’m not going to drink very much, probably just one drink when we first get there. He’ll want to celebrate after and you know how he is.”

“He definitely doesn’t need to be in a driver’s seat.”

Emma sighed. “He doesn’t even need to do that when he’s sober. He pays horrible attention to the road.”

“Your dress is cute. I love the red on you.”

“Thanks! I love your skirt.. even though it covers your ass too much.” She joked with a grin.

Ivy rolled her eyes. “I don’t want my ass hanging out all the time.”

“When it looks that good.. you should.”

“Do I need to change?”

Emma smacked her lips and grabbed Ivy’s hand, knocking the makeup brush out of her grip. “Stop! You look perfect, Ivy, I’m only teasing because your ass is nice and mine is nowhere near as big.” A laugh fell from her lips as she wrapped her arms around Ivy. “You’re hot, girl.”

“Am not.” She huffed back, embracing Emma just as tight. “But thanks.”

“The skirt is hot. The style is cute on you, plus the sparkles on your shirt are going to shine so much in the bar. Like a disco ball.. all eyes on you, sugar.”

Ivy chuckled at Emma’s flattering statements. She was glad to have an encouraging friend like her. Before all the joking, she did have a thought or two about the skirt and the bright orange shirt covered in fake rectangular gemstones. The straps were thin, and the necklace was low but straight across, covering any opportunity for cleavage to show. It was definitely not a shirt someone would wear on a daily basis, but it was perfect for going out.

“Are you wearing heels?” Emma asked, looking down to see her shoeless feet.

“Probably the chunky ones with the straps, the black ones. Are you?”

She nodded back. “I’ll make Niall rub my feet tonight.”

Ivy snickered. “I’ll make you rub mine.”

“I mean, I will. You’re my best friend.. as long as you aren’t sweaty.” Emma’s lashes hit her cheek as she winked.

“Don’t you need to finish getting ready?” Ivy said as she turned back towards the mirror to work on her makeup.

Emma was notorious for being late, and it took everything in Ivy to wrangle her up and out of the door when they were going places together. Niall didn’t give them a specific time to be at the bar, but he did say when the band would start. Emma needed to get ready quick if they wanted to make it on time.

The car ride was full of quick conversations with random topics in between their performances of some of their favorite songs. They had hit a karaoke stage as a duo before, plenty of times, so they were confident in their list of songs. In between the belting and off key singing, they had a few longer talks. Emma asked if Ivy was nervous about going to a bar she’d never been to before, in which she said ‘no, I’m excited’ and then let Emma tell her all about the layout of the place.

“You said something about.. Niall celebrating after?”

Emma nodded as she kept her eyes on the road ahead of them. “They don’t play the entire night. Usually have about two afters until closing. Depends on if there’s any requests.”

“Requests?” Ivy lifted her brows, surprised by the seemingly popularity Niall’s crew had. “They must be really good?”

Although she had seen videos of Niall, she hadn’t seen any of his band. Emma didn’t really use social media a lot, so she never posted anything or shared posts about their shows. Ivy was going to be completely surprised by whatever was to come tonight. She knew it would be good though. If they could continue to book the same venue time and time again, then they must bring in a good audience.

When the silence rose between them, Ivy took the opportunity to look at Emma’s outfit. She was humming softly to the song playing on the radio as she drove, her concentration on the road and not on her friend’s gazing eyes. Emma had such pretty dark hair that Ivy thought was perfectly placed strand by stand on her head. It had a natural wave to it that was easy to style, whereas Ivy had to place heated curls into her long, straight hair whenever she wanted it to look cute. Emma had a slimmer build than she did, her legs were longer despite them being a similar height. No matter how hard she tried not to look, her eyes always naturally fell to catch a glimpse at the gap between Emma’s legs. She never looked at it in a weird way, like she was attracted to her, but in an envious way. When she stared down at her own thighs or burned holes through her mirror, she always frowned and swallowed harshly as her skin pressed together - the inside of her thighs always touching. It wasn’t the biggest deal to her, but it was noticeable in her eyes, so she assumed it was.. noticeable for everyone else. Emma had small boobs, but they fit perfectly on her frame. While Ivy had a small cup size, they didn’t necessarily match her body, she believed. Her hips were wider, her ass fuller - as Emma reminded her often - and her stomach was pudgy. She wasn’t skinny, nor tall and lanky. She was short, plump, and her thighs touched.. She never thought she was unattractive but she figured she wasn’t conventionally attractive, she didn’t possess those things that society craved and demanded of women.

Emma’s outfit tonight was perfectly sculpted to her slim body. The red dress had a satin finish to it as it draped carefully over her cleavage, the swell of her breasts peeking out just enough to keep someone guessing. Her tanned skin was littered with delicate gold jewelry - her signature flower ring on her right hand was accompanied by a few random ones, and a ruby necklace hung over her collarbones, Niall gifted that to her for Christmas.

Ivy was confident in her outfit for the night, she was comfortable in the articles of clothing. She was very used to wearing heels when going out, she believed they made the outfits even better, so her feet weren’t going to be hurting that bad later on. She thought her makeup was done nicely, a dark grey smokey eye with a shimmery white covering her lid and a pink nude gloss over her thick lips. Her lips, that was the one thing she was confident in each and every time she looked at her reflection. They were plump, full, and much thicker than the average person’s. She had been told several times that her lips would do wonders - although, she hadn’t gotten to that with anyone yet. She had kissed a few people, though, and they told her it was heavenly. She took the praise to heart and was proud of it. Her thighs might touch and her hair might dry straight, but she had pretty lips.. that would surely be enough to attract someone one of these days, right?

After a couple of minutes of silence, more than Ivy had realized, Emma spoke up. “Are you feeling okay?”

Ivy stuck her tongue out to wet her lips, smearing her lip gloss in the process. “Yeah. Why?”

Emma shrugged. “You’re quiet.. you seem like you’re thinking about something.”

“I’m fine, promise.”

They became quiet again. She knew that sometimes she became mute when she was anxious or thinking thoroughly about something, and she hated when people noticed or pointed it out. She wasn’t intentionally trying to be that way, it just happened. She assumed it was normal, but perhaps she did it too much?

“Ivy, if you’re worrying about your outfit, please don’t. You look hot. You always do.” Emma suddenly said, a smile laced in her words. “There’s gonna be guys dropping to your feet tonight, like they always do.”

“They don’t drop to my feet.” She huffed, pursing her lips at the thought. “They just want to hook up with me.”

Emma smirked. “It’s your ass, I’m telling you. They love it.”

“Emma, please.” Ivy was fighting back a chuckle.

“I promise, swear on every little thing, Ivy, your outfit is perfect and you look perfect.”

A weighted sigh escaped through her lips as she relaxed in the seat, her eyes shifting to look out of the window. “Thanks, Em.”

While Ivy had never been to the establishment they arrived at, she was no stranger to a bar or club setting. Emma no longer seemed to be worried or concerned about any lingering doubts Ivy might have about her outfit or how the night would go. They strolled to the door, hand in hand with giggles pouring from their mouths as Emma joked about how excited she was for what Niall was going to give her after the show. Apparently, performing gave him a boost of confidence, energy, and testosterone. Emma was not shy about telling every detail and making sure Ivy knew all the craziest parts.

“There’s a good bit of people here.” Ivy said as she raised her brows, looking at the good sized line forming to the door.

“Yeah, it’s always packed out. This is one of the best places around. Decent prices, good djs and bands, obviously.” Emma grinned at her own comment. “And the food is actually great. I never came before I got with Niall though.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda surprised we never popped in here during school.”

Emma’s smile turned to a smirk. “They couldn’t handle our karaoke performances.”

Once they paid the cover charge and made a quick trip to the restroom before getting settled anywhere, they headed to the bar, still hand in hand as they weaved through the crowd of people already dancing. Ivy took notice of the interior as they waited for the bartender to come over to them.

The place was pretty big for what it was. The main room had a large dance floor space, a stage lined the back wall. Apparently, the place always had live performers or guest djs. It used to be a small theater that was renovated - the seating ripped out to transform the venue, but the stage remained untouched. Along the left side of the huge open room were tables with booth style benches shaped in half circles. Most of them were already occupied, but she could tell it was more of a casual thing - instead of a ‘being seated and waited on’ space. There was a doorway close to the opposite end of the bar covered with a long, sparkling beaded curtain. The sign next to the door read ‘VIP’. She pursed her lips at the idea of this place being so popular that they had a special seating area. Her eyes darted to the bartender as she heard Emma start saying her order. Ivy ordered a drink consisting of rum and pineapple juice, intending to get something stronger later once the show started.

“Hey there, strangers.” A familiar voice called out over the music.

“Oh, hi, Niall!” Emma was cheerful as he sat down on the stool closest to them. They had been standing, though, not wanting to claim a seat at the bar. “What are you doing out here?”

He shrugged. “We’ve got a few minutes to kill. Getting started?” He nodded his head towards the drink in Emma’s hand.

“Yeah, just having one.. since you’ll be drinking whatever’s left at the bar later.”

Ivy laughed at their banter, which caught Niall’s attention. “I expect you, missy, to have fun tonight. I want everyone to experience how wild you can get.”

“I told her she needs to have fun!” Emma exclaimed, reaching over to grab Ivy’s elbow and give it a squeeze.

“I’ll have a few.. but I’m not going to go crazy.”

They both gave her a dramatic eye roll, Niall adding a huff to his reaction. “C’mon, Ivy, live a little!”

“Yeah, a little, not a lot.” She smiled back, amused by their mix of excitement and disappointment.

“I’ll make sure you have a few rounds of tequila later. On me, of course.” Niall said, looking from her to Emma. “If you don’t drink yours.. then I’ll take it, babe.”

“Are you guys doing requests tonight?” Emma changed the topic after shaking her head at him.

He slowly lifted his head in a nod. “From what I was told. As long as we know it.. we’ll play it.”

“Do my song, okay?” Emma begged with a pout of her lips.

He shaped a grin on his. “It’s on the set list, baby.”

“What kind of music do you play?” Ivy asked, genuinely curious about it. Emma hadn’t really given her much of an idea about what to expect, just a guarantee that she’d love it and have fun.

“Mostly rock.. We do a lot of nineties.. early two thousands songs. Bunch of classic rock, though. Little bit of grunge, dad rock.. if that’s what you wanna call it. Sometimes we branch out.. but mostly stick to that stuff.” Niall said as he stood from the stool, a sigh following his final words as he ran a hand through his puffed up dark hair.

“Time to get ready?” Emma pouted, her free hand slipping onto his waist.

“Yeah, gotta round up the lads.” He breathed out, his eyes focusing on Emma now. “I’ll be watching you, babe. Make sure ya dance for me, yeah?” He teased with a lick of his lips, which clearly fell downward to meet hers.

Ivy swallowed a sip of her drink and let her eyes move to the floor. She wasn’t grossed out by their display of affection, she just felt like she was intruding. Emma was always so open with her about the things she did with Niall and others before he came along, but she never had those kinds of stories to tell back to her. She had been with one person, the summer before university began, and it was terrible. Aside from that, kissing people was the extent of her experience. She enjoyed most of the times she had almost gone far with people, but it never got to that point.

Emma hugged Niall quickly as he said something about needing to go. When he disappeared in the crowd, Emma turned to face Ivy again.

“Niall might stay over tonight.” She said, taking a sip of her drink. “Just to let you know.”

“Alright, that’s fine.”

Emma slid her gaze around the room, taking in the familiar setting, before looking back to Ivy. “I hope you like the music. There’s a bunch of songs you definitely know on the set.”

“M’sure I will.”

“Are you good?” Emma smiled sweetly, not trying to pry or seem too nosy, but she noticed how Ivy had shied away from her and Niall just before he left.

“I’m fine. You worry too much.”

Ivy sighed lightly as Emma took her hand. “Maybe we can find you a hot guy tonight. I know you know how to use those lips.”

“Don’t say it like that!” Ivy laughed, covering her mouth as her cheeks blushed.

“Kissing, I mean! But I’m sure you can do the other stuff, too.” Emma just smirked, knowing that her attempt at making Ivy feel better was working.

They didn’t have to wait too much longer for everything to start. But as they stood next to the bar, partially resting on the stools, the place filled up to more than capacity. It was like a big name musician was in town. Emma told Ivy about the popularity of the bar again and how it was always sold out and packed floor to ceiling with people. She was very impressed by the crowd that had formed around them, and she wondered how much of that was just from the place’s atmosphere and how much was for the live show.

Just as the guy who was normally over the music appeared on the stage to announce that the show was about to begin, Emma grabbed Ivy’s hand and they shoved their way to the front of the crowd, not quite in the center but close enough. Emma wanted to be in front of where Niall would be standing. The lights dimmed, replaced with flashing colorful lights and white strobing flashes. Emma was cheering with the crowd while Ivy waited in anticipation. She was excited to see Niall perform live, but she was more interested in seeing the rest of the band.

A small group flooded the stage suddenly, instruments in a few of their hands, including Niall’s. The lights were purposely not flashing on to the stage yet, so it was too dark for her to tell. She thought she recognized the person getting behind the drum set, but she wasn't sure. Emma let out a piercing squeal as the show finally began.

Ivy happily smiled and started to sway her hips from side to side as a familiar opening instrumental of a song started to fill the room. The lights on the floor of the stage popped on, lighting up the band as the singer started the first verse of “Come As You Are”. She was nodding her head to the music as she watched Niall pluck the strings on the guitar, he was pursing his lips and seeming to be enjoying what he was doing. His eyes shot up and he gave them a quick grin before focusing back on the guitar in his hands and the microphone placed near his mouth. Emma had told her that he sings backup vocals sometimes, depending on the song. She let her eyes roam over the rest of the band. She kept getting a bright red light shot into her eye from one of the stage lights above them, so it was difficult to see at first.

“Oh, Zayn!” She yelled out over the music, hitting Emma on her arm. She hadn’t told her that he was in the band - in fact, she didn’t know much about the band at all.

There were two other people she didn’t recognize, one was a girl playing a keyboard and a guy with dark blond hair playing a bass guitar. Another gasp came from her as she finally got to clearly see the person tightly gripping the microphone. She truly didn’t expect to recognize more than just Niall and Zayn. There stood before her, in the middle of the stage with two big hands wrapped around the microphone and the top of the stand was a third familiar face. Sweat was already rolling down from his hairline, his long curly hair was messy on his head as he jerked around while singing. A white t-shirt hugged his body, sticking to him like glue, and a pair of dark jeans over his legs. The jet black ink of the snake tattoo stood out against his skin as the lights flashed over it, the creature wrapping perfectly around his arm. It was Harry.

The next song started almost immediately and it was another one that she recognized right off the top of the first note played. Ivy’s dad had a thing for rock music, and she knew the start of “Highway to Hell” like the back of her hand. She was impressed by the vocal range Harry was able to belt out into the microphone. Niall and the other guy she didn’t know the name of were singing the chorus with him. Emma was dancing like it was the actual band performing the song, but her behavior made Ivy more comfortable and soon she was doing the same.

Every now and then, Niall would flash them a toothy grin and give them a nod of his head, approving of their performance and dancing. Ivy was on her second drink, this one they grabbed soon after Niall left them and it was stronger than the first. She was feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks, and not from the dancing or close quarters of the crowd. It had been a while since she went out, so she was starting to feel that sensation flood through her - she wanted to have fun tonight.

For almost an hour, Ivy and Emma danced with each other, screaming out the lyrics they knew to different songs. They would do an impersonation of Niall every now and when he'd look towards them, air guitars and rock star head bangs acted out - all of which made him throw his head back and laugh. Like they usually did when they went out together, they’d grab onto each other and hug while singing or playfully run their hands down each other’s sides. It was all in fun, of course, and the alcohol contributed.

They both let go of their embrace as the music dialed down, twisting so they could face the stage. Niall was guzzling a bottle of water as Harry shoved his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. The bass player grabbed a stool from the back of the stage and brought it to Harry. Emma was familiar with this portion of the show, so she grabbed Ivy’s forearm to get her attention.

“I’m gonna get some water, do you want another drink?” Emma asked as she took a deep breath, exhausted from trying to outdo the performance on the stage.

“Yeah, get me another one of these.” Ivy nodded as she passed her empty cup, knowing she’d toss in the bin for her. Emma disappeared into the crowd to fight her way to the bar just as Harry adjusted the microphone stand and sat on the stool.

He was holding a bottle of water as he leaned into the microphone. “We’re gone slow it down for a bit.” His deep voice rattled through the speakers, a quick smirk shaping to his lips before he put the bottle to them.

Ivy couldn’t help but watch him as he swallowed half the contents of the bottle. It sloshed out, spilling over the corners of his mouth and running down his chin. Water droplets soaked and trailed down the fabric of his shirt. She was still so shocked by the fact he was the singer in Niall’s band. Maybe Emma just didn’t tell her because she knew they didn’t know each other. They met once, but they were strangers. He tossed the half empty water bottle on the ground, some of it spilled out since the top wasn’t screwed all the way on. His eyes roamed over the crowd as he grabbed the microphone. He glanced over his shoulder towards Niall, who gave him a nod and started up the next song.

Ivy had thoughts spinning in her head, the buzz from her drinks wasn’t helping her concentrate on just one thing. She wondered what songs they would do next. What kind of slower songs did they prefer to do? She figured it would be some of the same artists and bands they had covered thus far. Her eyes were glued to the floor, thoughts circling her mind at a hundred miles an hour. Had that second drink really been that strong or was she dizzy from being so close to the speakers?

She lifted her head the moment she realized what song was being played. She shot her gaze to Niall, then over to the bass guitarist. She knew those chords better than any other song that existed. All those running thoughts vanished in her head as Harry’s voice dropped low with the first verse of the song. The way he sang the words just as slow as they originally were done made her heart skip a beat. This song was special to her. This was something she wasn’t even sure Emma knew. She talked about losing her mom quite often with Emma, but her brother was a different story. And as his favorite song was being sung, she couldn’t help but feel a sadness creep over her joyful mood. All the energy she had jolting through her veins like lightning had slowed to a dull pulse. She gulped as she glanced next to her, Emma hadn’t returned yet. Niall was too busy focusing on the chords he was playing to give her any looks. She felt like she was about to pass out, not from the heat built up from the crowd or the alcohol in her system - but from the overwhelming feelings washing through her. Ivy’s strained blue eyes flicked to Harry, and for just a split second he locked his gaze on her. It was gone before she could understand what was happening. She was sure he didn’t notice her, and if he did then he didn’t recognize her or care to remember the glimpse of her face he got at the tattoo shop.

She thought maybe watching Niall would distract her, but witnessing him playing the music she so easily knew was making it worse. She wasn’t sure how long she had been standing there with her eyes glued to the floor. The song wasn’t over yet, that’s all she was sure of.

“Oh, this is new! They’ve never done this one before!” Emma suddenly appeared next to her, a smile over her lips as she passed Ivy the drink.

She turned her head, glad to see that her friend had returned but sort of upset that she left in the first place. Emma couldn’t have known what song was going to be next, clearly she was unaware of it, and she didn’t know the intense attachment Ivy had to it. She couldn’t blame Emma for anything.

“Thanks. I’m running.. to the restroom!” She yelled over the speaker that was extremely close to them.

Emma gave her a thumbs up and a quick ‘be careful’. Before Emma could drop her arm, Ivy was pushing her way through the crowd towards the restroom, well she actually wasn’t sure where she was heading. She had to get away from that stage. She had to disappear for a few minutes to collect herself. It wasn’t the performance that bothered her - Niall was amazing, as were the others playing instruments, and Harry was doing the song justice. It was just her mind. Sweaty bodies bumped into her as she elbowed through everyone. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of people. It was so loud in the place that her ears were ringing. She couldn’t even hear the music anymore, she was unaware the song had finished and a new one was being played. She broke through the crowd, sucking in a quick breath as she realized she was free of the constraints of people around her.

The restroom was close by, and she stopped just outside the door to chug the alcohol from the cup Emma had just brought her. It was gone within a few seconds. She didn’t care about the sticky drops landing on her chest or the few rolling down her lips, smudging her lip gloss and tracing light lines in her makeup. The bathroom was cold, arctic cold at that. It was a feeling of utter relief to be free of the music, the crowd, the lights.

She stumbled to the sinks, almost forgetting the height of her shoes. Her hands gripped the cold porcelain of the sink in the farthest corner of the bathroom. The fuzzy feeling in her head hadn’t faded yet. She stared at the sink bowl, the silver lined drain gazing back up at her. Ivy spent far longer in the restroom than she meant to.

After ten minutes of her being gone, Emma decided she was going to check on Ivy. She was in still in the restroom, and after Emma asked her several times if she was alright or feeling upset, they chose to return to the front of the crowd. Ivy convinced her friend that she was just having an upset stomach from the drinks, despite them stopping by the bar so she could get another before they got back to the stage. Emma didn’t think anything of it and just assumed that since it had been a while since Ivy had alcohol, maybe she really was just having a stomach ache.

The band continued on for a while longer, taking a few breaks here and there to drink water and take requests. Ivy considered submitting a song to Niall, but she was hesitant to. Besides, several other songs had been yelled out from the crowd, along with some people pushing their way to the front to the stage to call out a song title. She assumed this wouldn’t be the last time Emma drug her out to one of Niall’s shows, so she’d just request something next time. Instead of waiting around for the final song, she returned to the bar on her own and ordered a shot. The memories of her brother were faded by now, but she was determined to flood them out with alcohol. Tonight was supposed to be fun anyway, not filled with sadness.

Emma cheered loud for the band as they finished their last song and said a quick thank you to everyone. Ivy was perched on a bar stool, her eyes filling with stars as she stared at the bar, trying to stay awake. The usual dj returned to the stage to get the music going for the patrons of the bar. It was obvious that some people only showed for the live music because a good bit exited out the door once the set was over, but it was still a pretty big crowd in the building.

“Hey! There you are!” Emma shouted as she walked to the bar, her hand reaching out to take Ivy’s. “Feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Just got some water.” She presented a drunken smile as she held up the small cup of ice water.

“Good! You need to take a break.” Emma grinned back, glad to see that Ivy was enjoying herself, but wary of how much she had consumed. “C’mon, Niall and the others are gonna be in the back room for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” Ivy didn’t really have a choice on what to do as Emma yanked her off the bar stool and towards the beaded curtain she noticed earlier. It was sparkling from the lights reflecting on the crystals. “Where are we going?”

Emma gave her a laugh, amused by her obvious buzzed behavior, and just pulled her through the curtain. Ivy smacked a few strands of beads away from her face as they tried to tangle up in her hair. The same music that was playing in the main room was also playing in this one. She was intrigued by the new setting, curious to know what kind of important people would be filling it. Was it just for the bar’s usual customers or did you have to have some kind of pass? She wasn’t sure, the disco ball hanging from the ceiling distracted her and made the thoughts dissipate. Her eyes shifted around the room as she took in the new sights. Heavy velvet curtains dripped from the ceilings, covering the walls but not actually any windows they were simply decorations. There were three big, fancy leather sectionals placed in the room - two in each corner and one in the middle of the wall. Curtains hung to separate them, but they appeared to be pulled back tonight. Glowing purple lights centered on short tables in the middle of each couch lit up the leather, making everything seem magical and ethereal. She couldn’t miss the stripper’s pole that was in the middle of the small dance floor, elevated a few feet off the ground on an even smaller stage.

“Hi, Emma!” A girl appeared in front of them, and Ivy recognized her as the girl who was playing the keyboard on stage. The girl’s natural red hair was glowing under the mix of lights flashing in the room. “Who’s this beauty?”

Emma grinned, letting go of Ivy’s hand so she could gesture to her. “This is my friend, Ivy. We live together.”

“Oh, nice to meet you!”

Ivy mustered up a polite smile and a small wave. “Hi.”

“This is Michelle.” Emma said, glancing at Ivy to make sure she was okay.

“You were awesome on stage.” She said to the girl who’s eyes she found to be pretty, the piercing icy blue lighting up even in the dark room.

“Thank you!” She nodded towards the table in the back corner. “I think we’ve claimed that one for the night if you girls wanna sit.”

“Sure!” Emma followed behind her, which led Ivy to do the same.

Michelle and Emma plopped down on the leather couch, immediately starting up a conversation as Ivy sat next to them, but not as close as they were together. She let her eyes move around the room again, searching for a familiar face. There were a handful of people already in the room, most of which were talking to a girl to place their drink orders. She moved her head a little, trying to see past someone. In that same moment, a security guard pulled back the beaded strings and let a group of people in. By the way they were dressed and how some of them had a smug look on their faces, she assumed these were the higher paying patrons of the establishment. Emerging from behind that crowd, Ivy saw Niall brush past the beads. His eyes roamed around until he spotted them in the back.

“Oh, there’s the guys.” Michelle nudged Emma to get her attention as she pointed towards them.

“Finally!” Emma jumped up as Niall got closer to them, she was ready to pounce on him. Their eyes met and he put on a big smirk for her, just as excited as she was to finally get his hands on her.

“Have you met everyone else?” Michelle asked as she slid over next to Ivy, their thighs touching as she offered a kind smile.

“I’ve met Zayn.” She said with a soft sigh. “Kinda met Harry, but not really.”

“Oh, well, that’s Cory!” Michelle pointed to the guy that walked past Niall and Emma as they hugged and twirled each other around. “He plays bass.”

Ivy gave her a nod, silently letting her know she was paying attention. The guy approached the couch before Niall did, since Emma was holding things up with her pecks to his cheeks and lips. He gave Michelle a smile and shot his eyes to Ivy His brows furrowed and he held his hand out in a loosely pointing gesture towards her.

“Don’t think we’ve met.” He said, his confused look morphing to a smile as he sat in the spot across from her. “Niall told me Emma had a friend coming. Ivy, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” She turned her lips up, giving him a gentle nod of her head.

“Not drinking tonight?” Michelle asked him with a cock of her brow as she noticed his empty hands.

He laughed back. “Harry’s bringing us a round.”

“Oh, of course he is.”

“Hey, Ivy!” Niall greeted her with a loud voice, happy to see that she was finally apart of their small crew. “How was the show?”

Emma took a seat on the opposite side of the coach, letting Niall claim the place closest to Cory. “I think she loved it!”

“It was so good. You guys are amazing.”

“Saw me shredding the fuck out of that guitar, yeah?” He joked, getting a laugh out as everyone rolled their eyes and smiled at him.

“You killed it, for sure.” ivy took a sip of her water, wishing she had more than that was left in the cup.

“What are you drinking?” Michelle asked curiously.

She pushed out a breath. “Just water right now. I.. had a few already.”

“Your outfit is stunning. I love the top.”

Emma beamed as she heard the compliment. “I told you, Ivy, you look so hot tonight!”

“I’ll say.” Michelle teased just as her phone buzzed in her hand, her eyes falling down to check the message.

Ivy felt a bit of uneasiness building in her stomach as she realized she was feeling out of place all of a sudden. Cory was also focused on his phone while Emma had thrown her leg over Niall’s lap and her arm around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. While she wasn’t with complete strangers, she didn’t really know Michelle and Cory. The only other person she knew hadn’t come over here yet, Zayn wasn’t anywhere near that she could see. Emma was distracted with Niall, leaving Ivy to fend for herself. She swallowed a lump that was forming in her throat and ran her hand over the ends of her skirt, adjusting it on the tops of her thighs. She reverted back to those insecure thoughts she had while on the drive here. Michelle was skinnier than Emma was, leaving her to feel even more vulnerable and uncomfortable. She tried to ignore it by picking up her head, wanting her eyes to catch something interesting to stare at for a bit - but instead she saw someone she recognized coming their way, two people actually.

“The party’s here!” Michelle announced as she, too, looked up and saw what was heading their way.

Everyone looked up to see Zayn walking to them, a girl on his arm, and Harry leading one of the bartenders from the front room to the table. The woman had a tray of beers balanced on her palm. Zayn sat down next to Niall, the woman holding onto his elbow sitting beside him. Ivy figured that was Alyssa - Emma had mentioned her several times while telling stories. The bartender sat the tray down and replied as Niall and Cory both thanked her for bringing them out. She disappeared, leaving them to all to reach for a cup.

“Take one, take one. Drink this damn shit.” Harry yelled with a joyful tone as he grabbed a cup before taking the space next to Michelle.

“Shit, I forgot to tell Harry about Ivy.” Niall said with a groan, glancing at Emma as he got them each a cup.

“What?” Harry smacked his lips as he heard his name, not sure what Niall was referring to.

“My friend, Ivy. She was with me at the shop when I got my tattoo.” Emma said, motioning her hand to where Ivy was sitting.

Harry leaned up to look past Michelle towards the person he had only briefly laid his eyes on before. He shrugged his shoulders, seemingly not concerned with her presence.

“I got the usual number, so she’s shit out of luck.” He casually said the harsh words.

Emma stood up to pass the drink to Ivy. “She can have mine! Here, Ivy, I’m not drinking anything else.”

She gladly took it and brought the cup to her lips, taking just a sip. That caught Zayn’s attention. He jolted up, pointing towards her with a grin on his face.

“Hey! I need to see you chug that since you’re so good at it.”

Emma clapped her hands together, remembering that she’s mentioned Ivy’s secret talent to him before. “C’mon, Ivy! Show ‘em how it’s done.”

“No, no. Not tonight.” Ivy let out a nervous laugh and slowly sipped the beer. It wasn’t her favorite drink, but she wasn’t going to be rude and turn down the offer.

Niall let a smirk grow on his lips. “I need to witness this, too. C’mon, we’ll get ya another one.”

She shook her head again. “I can’t, I might throw up. I’ve had a few.”

“What is it, can she chug quick?” Cory asked, leaning his elbow on his knee as he was now curious with the excitement coming from them.

“Fast as fuck, Cory. I swear, she’s insane.” Emma said with a proud smile.

“She’s exaggerating.” Ivy shook her head, trying to hide her flushing cheeks by turning her head.

Niall stood up, his cup still full, and stepped around the table to where Ivy was sitting. He grabbed her hand and yanked her up to her feet, laughing as she stumbled but quickly caught herself. Emma was cheering her on, knowing that Niall was about to challenge her.

“C’mon! Let’s see who can finish first.” Niall said, hitting his cup against hers, the liquid sloshing around in the clear plastic.

She let out a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes at them, aware that she wouldn’t hear the end of it if she chose not to do it. She cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and nodded.

“Fine.”

Niall boasted with excitement, screaming like his favorite team just won a game. Emma watched with a wide grin, her hands clasped together - she hadn’t seen Ivy have this much fun in a while, so she was ecstatic over it. Cory counted them down from three. Ivy relaxed her throat and let the liquid flow into her mouth. She closed her eyes, trying to dissociate herself so that she didn’t think about drinking quickly. The trick was to forget what you were actually doing and just.. do it. She was fairly good at the trick, seeming to perfect it. Niall still had about a third of his beer left when she dropped the cup on the table, not a single drop let.

Michelle jumped up and raised her hands high, screeching loud as she felt like she witnessed a miracle. Emma was laughing hard at the drop of Cory’s jaw and the impressed smirk on Zayn’s face.

“Fuck.” Niall choked out as he finished, his hand covering his stomach as he felt the beer rushing down his body.

“It’s all in the throat.” Ivy joked as she gave him a playful shove.

Niall chuckled, patting her on the back as if she achieved something so great. “M’glad you’re better with your throat than I am with mine.”

“Wait, wait. Now I’m feeling competitive.” Cory said with a laugh, glancing at his own drink that was still full.

“I can do one more, but that’s it.” Ivy said, her stomach bubbling from the contents filling it.

“Here. I barely drank any.” Michelle offered up her beer, more focused on the entertainment than drinking it herself.

“C’mon, let’s do it.” Cory jumped up, ready to put his previous years of being in a fraternity to the test.

Niall led the count this time, and as soon as the word ‘go’ left his mouth, Ivy had her lips on the rim of the cup, tipping it back into her mouth. Everyone watched again with amazement as laughter and cheers filled the space they shared. Well, all but one let out a joyful noise. Harry was sitting against the back of the couch with his arm over his chest, watching but seeming to not be amused by it. He thought Cory was being a flirt and Niall was just weak because he couldn’t get it down quicker than this girl.

“Damn, you’re good.” Cory couldn’t even finish his drink, he just gave up.

Ivy sat back down next to Michelle, who was definitely her newest cheerleader. Michelle had heard some positive things about Ivy, so she was glad she was enjoying her company.

“I told you she was good.” Emma said with a smirk as if she had placed bets and won.

“Got a throat on you, for sure.” Cory sighed out as he fell against the couch, his gut churning.

Harry scoffed to himself. “Throat like a whore.”

Niall heard the comment, but he wasn’t sure who else did. He shot Harry a stern glare, but he obviously didn’t care. Michelle slid her arm around Ivy’s back and tightly gripped her shoulder, pulling them closer together.

“This girl is a champ.” She declared. “Welcome to the group, Ivy. You’re officially one of the girls.”

Cory lifted his hand in a pretend toast. “It was an honor to get my ass kicked.”

“That’s a talent right there.” Zayn added, having not said that much tonight but he was definitely paying attention.

“That’s kind of gross.” Harry added to the conversation, a cocky smirk on his lips as he looked away from Ivy.

She furrowed her brows lightly, catching what he said this time. “You’re probably just scared I’d beat you, too.”

It was most definitely the alcohol that was causing her to speak so freely to the person she knew the least about in the group of people surrounding her. Sure, she was confident in herself when she wasn’t sober and she wouldn’t let a rude comment slide by unnoticed, but she was ready to spit out another line if he tested her patience.

Harry snarled his lip up, not liking that she was speaking to him in that manner. “Please, you wish.”

Michelle was never one to shy away from talking back to Harry, so when she added a few words, Ivy was pleased to know she wasn’t fighting this battle alone. “You’re such a douche. You’d probably cry if she out drank you.”

Harry shot her a glance, but he wasn’t concerned with his friend’s comment. He wasn’t too content with the idea of some random girl he didn’t know coming into his circle of friends and grabbing all the attention. Maybe he was jealous, or maybe he really was just a douche.

“I wouldn’t be braggin’ about a loose throat.” He sat up, his elbows hitting his knees as he eyed Ivy with a cold stare. “Probably take down dicks faster than beer.”

Ivy didn’t feel comfortable with him staring at her like he wanted to throw his fists into her body. She pursed her lips in an effort to let it go, not wanting to start any unwanted drama among her newfound friends - well, some of them were friends. Emma nudged Niall and mumbled to him about controlling his friend, but Niall knew there wasn’t much he could do.

“Give it a rest, Harry.” He sighed out, knowing that if he didn’t at least try then Emma would be upset with him.

Harry let out an unamused laugh. “Truth hurts, Horan.”

“Y’don’t have to be a dick about it, Harry. Give the girl some respect.” Zayn added, taking a sip of his drink after. He was staring at the table, not even wanting to give Harry the extra attention of a spared glance.

“All m’saying is it’s not that impressive.” Harry shrugged, standing up so he could make an exit from the group and go occupy himself with something else. But before he walked away, he stopped in front of Michelle and let his eyes fall down to the girl he knew nothing about. “Does your mother know you drink like a grown man?”

“Har-“ Emma tried to quickly intervene, but it was too late. Ivy was already responding to him.

“My mom’s dead. So, no, probably not.” Her cold tone and narrowed eyes made

Harry gently furrowed his brows. He heard exactly what she said, but he didn’t seem to care. Niall got up to grab his elbow, knowing that he should do something before any more hurtful comments were made.

“C’mon.” He pulled Harry away from the seating area, mumbling something about him needing to relax.

“Sorry about him.” Cory was the first to apologize as Niall and Harry disappeared into the small crowd.

Ivy fell back against the couch, her arms crossing over her chest. She licked her lips and nodded to him, not wanting to talk for fear of losing control of her emotions. Michelle gently rested her hand atop Ivy’s thigh, not wanting to be too overbearing but hoping to give her some comfort.

“I’m sorry, Ivy. I told Niall to make sure he was nice tonight.” Emma frowned, knowing that the comment Harry made would haunt Ivy for the next few days, if not longer.

“Yeah, he’s a bit of a dick.” Michelle said, a disappointment expression covering her features. “He doesn’t do well with change and.. I guess you being here is changing things. But it’s not your fault.”

“It’s fine. I.. I’m just going to ignore it.”

Ivy felt a burn in her chest that wasn’t from the drinks she downed minutes ago. This was a type of feeling erupting from the insults she caught. She was so upset with what was said to her, not just the thing about her mother, but more than that.. she was confused as to what she did that warranted that sort of treatment. Had she been rude to him by not greeting him like she did the others? He was so standoffish though, he didn’t appear to want to be spoken to. He acted like she wasn’t even sitting there when he walked up, even though he looked at her when he saw her next to Michelle. Was something said about her to him from someone else that he didn’t find appealing? Had Zayn not liked her when they met the second time, perhaps he made a comment to Harry? No, she shook that thought off. Zayn seemed to enjoy her company.

Cory mentioned something about getting a few shots, to which Ivy just nodded and agreed that it would be fun. He left the girls and Zayn alone, which made Zayn start up a conversation. Ivy was listening, but she wasn’t contributing. All she could think about was the rude behavior Harry displayed towards her. Surely, there must have been something she did to him. She couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Over towards the beaded curtain that was rattling from the vibrations of the music pounding through the building, Niall stood in front of Harry with a clearly irritated look on his face. Harry leaned against the wall, listening with a blank stare as Niall scolded him.

“Are you fucking serious? Why are you so rude?” Niall spat out, throwing his hands up in the air as the disbelief stuck in his mind. “Emma invited her out, you have no right to be such a dick to her.”

“I don’t fuckin’ know the chick.” Harry shrugged, not caring to listen to Niall’s parenting but he knew he couldn’t escape just yet.

“It doesn’t matter, Harry. I told you she was going to be here tonight and to be fuckin’ polite to her. At least treat her like she’s a person and not a piece of garbage.”

Harry huffed and moved his eyes to Niall’s. “I don’t know her. I don’t care about being polite to her.”

Niall shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. “Get to fuckin’ know her then. She’s not going anywhere, that’s Emma’s friend. Act like you have sense.”

“Look, I didn’t fuckin’ know her mom was dead.”

Niall wanted to wring his neck, he wasn’t getting the point. “It doesn’t matter! Act nice. Pretend to have a fuckin’ heart for once.”

Harry pushed himself off the wall, the conversation now boring him. He gave Niall a wave before deciding it was best if he just found a distraction for the rest of the night. Niall couldn’t quite understand why he was being so rude to Ivy, but there was nothing else that he could say. If his words worked, then that would be a miracle.

Ivy sat there quietly for a handful of minutes, ignoring the small talk that was going on around the table. Her eyes were roaming out through the crowd that had thickened since Niall stormed off with Harry in tow. The pole fixed to the ceiling was now occupied by a dancer in a lace bodysuit, strategically placed rips and holes scattered on the fabric. She seemed to have some of the people’s attention. One person she didn’t have, though, was Harry, and Ivy took notice of that only because she saw him with his forearm secured around some woman’s waist. He had pulled her close to him, smirking and biting his lips as the woman spoke to him.

Ivy wasn’t intending on finding him in the crowd to gaze at him, it just sort of happened. She was unfamiliar with the surroundings, so her eyes fixated on something she recognized - even if it wasn’t the nicest person she’d ever met. He was completely unaware of anything happening around him, all he was concerned with was what lived between that woman’s legs. The sight of him groping her ass and leaning down to whisper things in her ear left a nasty taste in Ivy’s mouth. She found it unpleasant to witness. That sort of thing should be private.

Michelle suddenly interrupted her trance with a pat to her leg before she stood up. “Do you wanna dance?”

Ivy looked up and let out a nervous laugh. “I think I’m okay sitting here for a bit.”

Michelle groaned and grabbed her hand, tugging her up with all her strength. “C’mon! Let’s go have some fun!”

She couldn’t stop Michelle from dragging her into the crowd, so she just let it happen. Emma gave her an encouraging cheer before they vanished from the table. The girls were shoving between people to find a more open spot on the dance floor, and once Michelle was pleased with where they ended up, she turned towards Ivy and grabbed onto her waist. She decided it was best to just let all those thoughts about the things Harry said and the way he acted go. Tonight was meant for fun, not dwelling. She relaxed her body and began swaying to the music with Michelle.

“That ass!” Michelle teased in a loud shout as Ivy shook her hips to the song that was blasting through the ceiling.

All she could do was laugh as a layer of blush covered her cheeks. The music was rattling the building and the alcohol was still cycling through her veins. She was enjoying herself again, no longer fixated on that song or those comments. It wasn’t long until Emma and Niall appeared next to them. Emma turned towards them while Niall placed himself behind her, hands secured on her waist. The three of them danced and sang along with the music while Niall mostly laughed and kept his hands on Emma.

Ivy had been nervous about going out tonight - not only going to a new place, but meeting a group of new people. She was worried that her first impression wouldn’t be good, that they wouldn’t like the energy she brought. It was obvious that all of them, aside from Harry, actually enjoyed her company. Even though she didn’t get a chance to talk to a few of them, like Alyssa, the way she did Michelle, she was confident that her impression was well made. The pulsing of the music through her ears pushed out the thoughts regarding Harry. Maybe he was just in a bad mood, or maybe he was just a bitter person. She didn’t know for sure, and she didn’t care that much anymore.

Niall disappeared to get himself a beer, leaving Emma to take Ivy’s hand and lift it in the air, jumping to the beat of the song and screaming the lyrics. Michelle was thrilled to have another girl to be around, and she hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time they saw each other. She knew she’d have to beg Emma to let her and Ivy get together again. Ivy wasn’t surprised by Emma’s energetic, sober performance. She didn’t need alcohol running in her system to enjoy a good song. The night was starting to feel endless and free, in the best way. That wouldn’t last too long, though.

At some point, her eyes were absentmindedly looking over Michelle’s shoulder and were pretty much out of focus until her brain registered that familiar face again. Harry. She tried to look away, but she couldn’t force herself to as she saw that same woman he was with earlier place her lips on his. Something deep inside of her gut churned and she furrowed her brows at her own thoughts. She shook her head lightly and cut her eyes away from them. Almost as if there was a gravitational pull she couldn’t stop, her eyes shifted back to him after a few seconds.

His hair was slick with sweat, his curls shining under the flashing lights. The sweat on his skin shined like diamonds as the woman ran her hand down his forearm. Her nails scratched over the tattoo he showed off at the shop, veins popped out and skin tight around his muscles. It was like she noticed every single thing about him. Someone got in her way, blocking her view entirely. She huffed and looked towards Emma, who was still singing happily to the song playing.

Ivy was genuinely confused as to why she was thinking about him so much. Why did she care what he was doing? Why did she care who he was with? She hardly knew him. She rolled her eyes to herself and lifted her head in time to see Niall walking up, three drinks in his hand. He offered one to her and one to Michelle. They cheered together, laughing as Niall stumbled his way back to Emma. She jumped back into the song and started singing again, enjoying herself for the rest of the night.

—•—

When morning rolled over, Ivy didn’t move an inch in her bed until well after eleven o’clock. She knew Emma would sleep in with Niall, so she didn’t bother trying to be up before them. Niall stayed over every now and then, and of course he always requested a meal be made if the girls were up for it. Ivy was put on breakfast duty since Emma said she’s better at it. Niall slurred a quick beg to her last night before Emma drug him to the bedroom to get changed and tucked in. Ivy agreed to it, despite knowing her head would be pounding in the morning.

And it most definitely was. She groaned as she squeezed her eyes shut, the sunlight peeking through the curtains was enough to blind her. There was no point in sleeping any more of the day away, so she reluctantly got out of the bed after taking a few minutes to compose herself. Her arms stretched high above her head, her back popping as she twisted slightly. She sighed in relief, a weight was lifted from her as her body contorted with her stretches and groans.

Her trip to the bathroom presented her with a horrific reflection in the mirror. Her makeup had not been properly removed before she fell into her bed last night, and her hair was a wreck. She debated on taking a shower, but eventually decided it would be best to get it over with. Emma and Niall were still passed out down the hall, so she wasn’t worried about waking anyone or not having the food done in time. Niall would definitely still want breakfast no matter the time.

After her quick shower, she got changed into a set of loungewear and headed to the kitchen. She gathered all the items from the refrigerator and the cabinets, staying mindful of Niall’s large appetite. He did say he would throw in some money on their next grocery run, so she wasn’t concerned with rationing any particular item. She wasn’t in there very long by herself. Emma strolled in after a few minutes, having smelled the food starting to cook.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Ivy smirked as she saw Emma’s tired expression and tangled hair.

“Morning.” She mumbled back. “Niall slept like an animal last night.”

“Did he move around a lot?”

Emma groaned. “A lot? He moved constantly. Usually he doesn’t. I’m so tired.”

Ivy held back a laugh and just smiled. Emma sat down at the dining table, her eyes focused on what Ivy was doing. She just watched in silence for a while, too tired to say anything. They were by themselves for the majority of the cooking process. The bedroom door opened down the hall, but the bathroom door shut moments after. Niall spent a bit of time in the bathroom, which made Emma groan and hope that he wasn’t throwing up or suffering a bad hangover. He had quite a few drinks.

Eventually, almost the same time the food was ready, he walked in the kitchen with a smile on his face. Emma rolled her eyes as he tried to give her a kiss and a hug, and an apology about sleeping so roughly. Ivy let out a chuckle as he threw his hands up in defeat.

“Thanks for cooking, Ivy.” Niall said once he fixed his plate and sat down at the table with them.

“You’re welcome.”

Emma looked up from her plate and gave Niall a stern glare. He was confused at first, but when she shot her gaze to Ivy, he miraculously remembered the conversation they had in the middle of the night when he woke Emma up complaining about his head hurting. It took them a while to fall back asleep, so they just talked for a bit.

He cleared his throat after taking a sip of his water. “Um, Ivy.”

She looked his way. “Yeah?”

Niall took in a deep breath and slowly pushed it out. He seemed a bit hesitant at first, but he was trying to figure out what to say. He licked his lips and leaned back in his chair, forgetting the food for now.

“I want to apologize to you.”

Ivy dropped her brows, spared Emma a glance, then looked back to him. “What?”

He lightly sighed. “Harry.”

She was still unsure what Niall meant for a few moments, but suddenly everything came crashing back into her mind. She adjusted herself in the chair and started picking at the pancake with her fork, not really wanting to bring it back up but knowing she can’t avoid it now.

“It’s fine, Niall.”

“No, it isn’t.” Emma said, just as embarrassed by the situation as Niall was.

“He said some shitty things to you.. and I’m sorry. I.. I didn’t want that to happen, none of us did. Zayn sent me a text this morning telling me to tell you he was sorry, too.”

Ivy a wallowed gently, surprised that someone else had reached out about the situation. She thought what happened was unfortunate, but she didn’t think she’d receive such a reaction from them. Emma had a frown fixed on her lips as she kept her eyes on Niall, waiting for him to continue.

“The last thing Emma and I wanted was for you to think our friends didn’t like you. They do, they really do. I can’t speak for him but.. the rest of us are sorry.”

“Niall, it’s not that big of a deal, I promise.” Ivy tried to sail past it, but it wasn’t going to go down that easy.

“Yes it is, Ivy.” He breathed out. “He’s an ass and he says some messed up things. We’re all used to it.. and you aren’t. You shouldn’t have been spoken to that way.”

For a second, she was just ready to ignore it all again, but she changed her mind. Niall was genuinely upset and trying his best to make up for it, and she could tell Emma felt the same way. She remembered how everyone reacted when Harry said what he said last night. She thought about the way she saw Cory pinch his nose and shake his head in disbelief, and how Alyssa smacked Zayn’s arm in an attempt to get him to intervene. She remembered all the little things each of them did and how they all seemed to be in shock, embarrassed, or annoyed with it.

“Okay.. I accept the apology.” She finally said, trying to give him the best smile she could. “I promise, it’s okay.”

“I’ll beat his ass if he says something like that to you again.” Emma crossed her arms over her chest and huffed.

Niall couldn’t resist laughing at her, and Ivy quickly joined her. Although the previous night had a rollercoaster of events, she was glad that she had this new group of people to consider as her friends. For now, she’d just forget about Harry and focus on the positive memories she was able to create. As far as she was concerned, she would be perfectly fine if she never saw him again.

[a/n: I’ve been very sick these past few days but I wanted to get this out so pls ignore any spelling mistakes and all that, I’ll fix them later. if you want to be on the taglist, let me know! anyways, hope you enjoy this! love uuu! Also just a reminder that while this is lhh, he’s older in this series than actual lhh was]

** if you’re here for a reread, i did change this character to an oc so she has a name now!!

taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl l @lomllover @haniaaa04 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @sassamanda77 @lizsogolden @prettygurl-2009 @boopookie @mypolicemanharryyy

[loviestyless]

Whispered Temptation*

Summary: Nova simply couldn’t help herself but test Harry’s patience, pushing him until the tension between them got too much. Just how she had planned. (rockstarry x oc)

Warnings: drugs, mean harry, smut, dom!harry, bratty sub, oral (m receiving), public sex, praise kink, slight exhibitionism

A rhythmic tapping of heels against concrete echoed backstage as Nova allowed the excited chatter of the crowd to wash over her while she awaited the cue to hit the stage. Nervous energy flooded her veins, making it almost impossible to stand still while she toyed with her outfit and messed up her curls. Bending over slightly to get a closer look in the mirror placed perfectly in her view, Nova found herself pushing her tits up in her shirt so more cleavage was on display and tidying up her red lipstick that had smeared slightly in her rush to leave her dressing room on time.

Five minutes until show time and Nova LaRoy felt fucking invincible. She didn't care she was merely the opening act, the crowd would be hanging off her every note just like they did each night without fail. They may have bought the ticket with the sole intention of seeing Harry Styles but they would leave this venue tonight seduced by Nova's talent.

The thought alone made a cocky smirk tug at the woman's lips. Everyone fucking loved her.

"That fucking bitch!" A deep voice rumbled in the distance, thundering footsteps hurrying with purpose in Nova's direction. The darkness dripping off his words should have made Nova nervous, knowing full well the type of anger this man could harbour, but instead, it simply made her snicker to herself as she continued to admire her reflection.

Crew members scurried about backstage, their actions turning into a fearful frenzy as they made themselves busy to avoid getting caught up in whatever was about to take place. Nova found herself suddenly alone, microphone in hand as the minutes until her cue ticked away.

Her bandmates had already taken to the stage, messing around with their instruments to pass the time until the curtain rose. Just the right amount of anxiety settled Nova's stomach, making her jittery and determined to put on the best show of her life. Her cherry red guitar was propped up on the stand by the stage, ready and waiting for her grand entrance and Nova found herself itching to stomp across the stage and strike the first chords for the screaming crowd to enjoy.

Suddenly the waft of cherry perfume flooded her senses as Harry's reflection appeared in the mirror behind her. His cheeks were flushed with fury, matching the fire in his eyes as he located the person to spark such emotion deep within him.

Judging by his appearance - black leather trousers left partially unbuttoned and the absence of a shirt - Harry had been in the middle of getting dressed into his stage outfit when he'd discovered what Nova had done.

"You!" Harry spat, dark eyes locking on Nova's honey brown as she spun to face him, not realising he was closer than she first thought. His tall frame towered over her, their bodies inches from touching. But she didn't shrink back like he wanted. Instead, she made herself stand taller, chin held high as a devilish smirk played at her painted pink lips.

"It's me..." She teased, acting oblivious to what was inspiring such rage within the man in front of her. His inked chest heaved with heavy breaths as he struggled to contain himself and Nova found herself forcing her gaze to remain on Harry's, not trailing down the expanse of his toned torso emphasised by the red hue of the stage lighting.

From the very first day she met Harry Styles, it had not been lost on her how attractive he was. He was effortlessly pretty in the way that only rugged rock stars could achieve and Nova often found herself wondering if she would have fallen for his natural charm if it wasn't for his huge ego. After mere hours on the road, the woman quickly discovered that there was a side to the famous rockstar that his fans were kept from seeing.

Everything had to go Harry's way and if it didn't, there would be hell to pay. Trashed dressing rooms and pathetic temper tantrums followed in Harry's wake and it became very clear that if the rockstar didn't like you, then you'd better stay out of his way. His snarky attitude and diva-like temper were fuel to Nova's sharp tongue and no matter how many times Harry expressed his dislike for her, she couldn't help herself but purposefully piss him off.

As one can imagine, it caused a lot of tension on the road.

"Give it back." His words were stern and dripping with authority. Harry was obviously under the impression that being the star of the show every night gave him the right to boss everyone around. Most people did as he said, knowing their lives would be easier to avoid upsetting him. But Nova was never one to do as she was told.

"No idea what you're talking about, honey." Sweetness oozed from her lips, the playful nickname only winding the rockstar up even more. His sharp jaw clenched, left hand moving to cup her chin tightly to keep her attention on him instead of the crew member that had appeared to try hurrying her onto the stage. Her band was watching from the stage, rolling their eyes when they realised that she was being held up by yet another petty argument with Harry fucking Styles.

"My coke. Give it now." A hint of desperation tainted his words, barely detectable but Nova could sense it as he demanded she give back what was stolen.

She knew he depended on bumping a few lines before his set, unable to battle his crippling stage fright without a little help. It wasn't as if she had planned to steal the drugs from his dressing room but the opportunity was right there for her to take when the door was left wide open with no one inside. Besides, if he didn't want someone to take something he was so reliant on, perhaps he shouldn't leave the white powder out on the coffee table for anyone to snatch.

"Oh!" Nova suddenly gasped, hand on her chest in mock realisation. "This is your coke. My bad."

Instantly, her fingers dipped into her bra and fished around for the little baggie of crushed bliss she'd placed there for safekeeping. As she did so, Nova didn't miss the way Harry's eyes drifted across her chest, lingering on her breasts in her low-cut top for longer than needed.

Heavy bass suddenly flooded through the speakers, causing a round of screams to ring out through the entire arena and forcing Harry to remove his grasp from Nova's jaw. She had around thirty seconds to go bounding onto stage or her band would be forced to improvise the opening song.

"Oops, that's my cue. Gotta go!"

"Don't you fucking dare?" Harry snarled, his fingers gripping Nova's wrist and tugging her harshly so she stumbled into his body. Their faces were mere inches apart as fury blazed in Harry's eyes, brows knitted together in a harsh frown.  "Give me the coke, sweetheart."

"Come get it, honey." Her voice oozed seduction as she pulled the top of her thong above her mini skirt slightly, stuffing the drugs between the cotton material and the heat of her skin, revelling in the swirl of emotions making the air grow thick between them. Harry's brows raised slightly, a little taken aback by her bold action and what it implied - especially considering she had never given him such implications in the past.

Taking her opportunity, Nova stepped back once again, this time able to grab her guitar and prepare herself to run out in front of the crowd before her band got too pissed off by her antics.

"You think that will stop me, sweetheart, you've got another thing coming," Harry smirked, no doubt a plan forming in his mind on how to get Nova back for this. "I always get what I want."

"Is that a promise?"

Blowing him a kiss, Nova sauntered onto the stage, ignoring the ache between her legs at the promise of what would be awaiting her when she got off stage.

.......

Cigarette perched between her lips, Nova found herself leaning against the side of her tour bus as the night air cooled her flushed cheeks.

Heavy rock music floated through the air, drifting from an open fire exit and serving as quiet background noise in the otherwise peaceful parking bay. The small walkway between her and Harry's tour bus offered enough privacy that she doubted anyone would be able to find her until she was ready to socialise again. Her bandmates were no doubt in the middle of sweaty mosh pits, enjoying Harry's show like they did every night while crew members were too busy sorting through endless piles of equipment ready to pack up the stage the moment Harry went back to his dressing room.

Having stepped offstage almost two hours ago, Nova found herself needing to unwind alone - the screaming crowd still ringing in her ears as she processed the insane night she'd had. Every time she took the stage it never truly hit her that she was finally living out the dream she'd been working so hard to achieve for years.

It all became a little overwhelming in the time between her set and hitting the road to the next venue and she found reflecting on her life while chain-smoking a pack of cigarettes was the best way to process everything.

Tonight, however, all that consumed Nova's mind were those dark green eyes glinting mischievously with lust as she made her way through the setlist.

As the final song of Nova's set rang through the arena, the singer could feel Harry's intense stare watching her every move and knew that she had to make this song count. Sweat glistened on her chest as the heat of the lights bore down on her and Nova found herself using it as an excuse to tug her top over her head so she was strutting about the stage in her black lace bra and leather mini skirt.

Sure, it was a little excessive but it was all part of her charm. And it most definitely caught Harry's attention judging by how she caught him sneakily trying to adjust himself in his pants as he watched on from the darkness of the side stage.

"I was in your wet dream

Driving in my car

Saw you at the side of the road

There's no one else around"

The atmosphere of the crowd was electric, singing at the top of their lungs as they recognised the lyrics from when Harry covered the song a few months prior. Her messy curls clung to her sweaty forehead, a taunting smirk tugging at her lips as she swayed her hips with every step across the stage. She forced herself to remain focused on performing rather than glancing over to assess whether Harry was still watching what she was doing.

"You're touching yourself, touching yourself

Touching your, touching yourself

Touching yourself"

As the lyrics left her painted lips, Nova slowly trailed her hand across her chest and squeezed her tits - earning screams from the crowd that made her smirk with confidence. The song continued with Nova feeding from the energy of the crowd, chuckling slightly at some of the signs people were holding up in the front row and waving to those she recognised from previous shows.

"You climb onto the bonnet

And you're licking the windscreen

I've never seen anything so obscene"

Her singing became lighter as she acted as if she was breathless, taking her opportunity to tease Harry by getting onto her knees, spreading them just wide enough so that her skirt rode up her thighs but didn't expose the material of her thong underneath. Leaning back slightly, she rocked her hips slowly as her honey-brown eyes locked onto Harry's darkened green. His amusement had disappeared, completely taken over by lust.

"It's enough to make a girl blush

It's enough, it's enough to make a girl blush"

Her fingers trailed down her sweaty body, tantalisingly slow while she teased the crowd and the rockstar side stage as she inched closer to the waistband of her skirt.

"It's enough, it's enough, it's enough, it's enough

It's enough, it's enough, it's enough, it's enough to make a girl blush"

Harry's eyes never left Nova's and suddenly everything faded around her as she focused solely on the gorgeous tattooed rockstar giving her his full attention. Her fingers grazed over the material where his coke was currently hidden in her thong, breathy moans tainting the lyrics drifting through her lips and Nova didn't fail to notice the flush dusting Harry's cheeks at her action.

Forcing herself to remove her seductive stare from Harry before she sparked rumours neither singer wanted to deal with in the morning, Nova returned her attention to finishing the song. Getting back up on her feet, Nova reigned back the sexual display she was putting on and returned to a level of professionalism required of her to do her job.

As the final notes of the song echoed through the arena, Nova dared one last glance side stage and found Harry had promptly left. Most people would assume this was so he could prepare himself for taking his place on the stage in half an hour.

But Nova knew he was biding his time until he could make her pay for her little performance.

"Did you enjoy yourself out there?" Harry's deep voice cut through the silence that now hung in the air. So engrossed in thought, Nova hadn't realised the music had stopped and distant chatter filtered through the streets as streams of people made their way home.

Leaning against the end of his tour bus, Harry's silhouette loomed in the walkway between the buses - the limited lighting casting intimidating shadows across his sharp features. Nova remained silent in Harry's presence, instead taking another drag from her cigarette as she awaited for the man to pester her for his coke. The absence of a smart remark was enough for the rockstar to continue taunting Nova, taking slow steps towards her in the darkness as he tried to earn a reaction.

"Acting like a slut for thousands of people to see." There was an edge to Harry's words and Nova had to refrain from smirking to herself when she picked up on it. As much as he tried to maintain his usual angry demeanour, it was obvious he was currently being fuelled by sexual frustration.

"You sound jealous." Nova purred, nonchalantly taking a final drag of her cigarette while she watched Harry slowly approach her. She flicked the butt of her cigarette onto the concrete, squashing it with the heel of her boot before speaking again. "Need some attention, honey?"

The rockstar's trademark cherry perfume flooded Nova's senses once more as his presence loomed over her. One minute he was a few metres away, the next his arm was leant against the tour bus, pinning Nova in place with his body mere centimetres from hers. His green eyes glinted mischievously as they locked on her honey brown, causing Nova's breath to hitch slightly in anticipation of what he might be planning.

"What I need is for you to return what you stole, sweetheart." His voice was rough from a mixture of lust and the strain from performing, sparking a wave of desire to roll through Nova and settling as a throb between her legs. His thumb came up to her mouth, lingering on her bottom lip as she pouted playfully. Opening her mouth, she allowed him to push it in further with the silent demand to suck. Nova wasn't one to do as she was told but she also wasn't one to pass up an opportunity to tease the sexy rockstar with his body pressed against hers.

A soft moan rumbled in the back of her throat as she set to work, ensuring Harry knew exactly what she could offer the moment she got on her knees for him.

The cold night air suddenly turned thick as Harry's eyes trailed down Nova's body, lingering momentarily on the miniskirt riding up her thighs and threatening to expose the thong keeping his drugs in her possession. Nova smirked as she noticed this and decided to get things moving - her core was aching and Harry wasn't moving fast enough for her liking.

"Like I said before, come and get it." She shrugged, her brows raised slightly as she dared Harry to follow through with what he was implying. "You know where it is."

Immediately, Harry's fingers ghosted down her stomach, toying with the waistband of her skirt while his lips attached themselves to her neck. Nova found herself relaxing under her attention, the tension that had been building all night finally starting to uncoil as the promise of release was on the horizon. Tangling her fingers in Harry's long curls, she tugged gently as he busied himself marking up the pale skin of her neck and was instantly rewarded with a soft groan.

Nova felt Harry's hand dip past the waistband of her skirt, teasing her cunt over the fabric of her thong and letting his fingertips graze the small bag of coke hidden close to her dripping sex. It took everything in her not to moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing what he was doing to her.

"Fuck, sweetheart." He breathed, finally stepping back after retrieving what was stolen. "You're fuckin' trouble."

The pair shared a soft chuckle in agreement, Harry's shaking hands desperately working to open the baggie to get the drugged-out bliss he was denied before his show. Right as he was about to tip a line out on the back of his hand, Nova snatched the bag out of his grasp.

"What the fuck-"

"Call yourself a fucking rockstar?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she tugged down the neckline of her top, exposing the lace bra Harry had been admiring hours prior. "You won't even snort coke off a pair of tits."

His eyes widened slightly at the realisation of what she was suggesting, curse words tumbling from his lips as he rushed to help her unclasp her bra. Her nipples hardened against the cool air the moment Harry relieved Nova of the lace garment, allowing her chest to be on full display. Being hidden between both tour buses while everyone else was still inside the area had its perks and luckily for Harry, it meant he could bury his face in a gorgeous pair of tits without being interrupted.

"Shittin' hell" He cursed, lustful gaze admiring the way Nova squeezed her tits slightly just to tease him. She wasn't stupid, she knew he was a man who was easily distracted by a woman with a nice rack - as had been demonstrated a few times tonight.

"Go on then," She purred, tipping a messy line of white power along her right breast, brown eyes watching Harry with anticipation. "Indulge yourself, honey."

"With fucking pleasure" Not needing to be told twice, Harry pressed his lips to Nova's in a lustful kiss before moving expertly south to snort the line without hesitation. Tipping his head back, he let out a loud groan that sent waves tingling through Nova's body. Not even bothering to wipe his nose, Harry allowed himself to indulge in more than just the coke, sucking at the sensitive skin of her chest with desire.

His free hand toyed with Nova's left breast, squeezing it softly and toying with her nipple all while he marked up her right with hickies that would last for days. Hot breath tickled her skin and Nova leaned her head back against the cool surface of the tour bus, whimpering with pleasure as she let Harry do what he wanted.

His hips pushed harder against Nova's body as he switched to suck her other breast and a quiet gasp filled the air as she felt his hard length on her thigh.

"Perfect, darlin'" He hummed quietly, more to himself than anyone else. "Perfect fuckin' tits, sweetheart. So sexy."

"That's all I'm good for?" She teased, curling her fingers in his hair and pulling him away to look her in the eye. Blown pupils, swollen lips and white powder dusting his nose made him look dazed - a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as pleasure filled all his senses.

"What's wrong? Happy to act like a whore but don't wanna be treated like one?" Harry immediately bit back, snaking his hand around her neck and squeezing slightly to keep her focused on him. Her smart mouth was pissing him off just like Nova had planned, all she needed was to push him a little more and she'd get the rough fucking she was after.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, darling." He whispered, bringing his face closer so their lips were practically brushing together. "Bad girls don't get fucked like princesses."

"Fuck-" She breathed out, the wetness collecting at her core practically dripping down her thighs at his words. As much as she hoped she appeared more composed than she felt, Nova just needed to feel relief. Her whole body was on fire and judging by the flush in Harry's cheeks and the bulge in his leather trousers, he too was feeling the tension.

"Give me back my coke and get on your fucking knees, baby." Harry's voice was sharp with authority and paired with the squeeze of his fingers on her neck, Nova knew the time for teasing was over. Silently, she obeyed. Harry shoved the coke into his back pocket and watched in slight disbelief as Nova sank to her knees and waited patiently for her next instruction.

"Good girl." He praised and a smile curled at Nova's lips. "Now put that mouth to work and suck my fucking cock."

"What's the magic word?" Her voice was playful despite the tight fist the rockstar had on her messy curls.

"Now."

Nova's fingers immediately tugged at the zipper of his trousers, her eyes locked on Harry's who watched her every move. She worked expertly to tug down his trouser just enough so that his cock would spring free from its confined, brows quirking upwards when she noticed he had been commando all night as if to ask: 'Really?'

All he did was shrug his shoulders in response, his chest heaving with anticipation as her delicate touch curled around his thick length. Adjusting her position slightly, the concrete dug into her knees as she let a string of spit drop onto Harry's tip, collecting it with her hand before slowly working his length to make sure he was fully ready for her mouth.

"Shit-" Harry's head tipped back with pleasure, small grunts filling the air as he tried to keep his composure. "Feels so good."

Taking this as the indication to go further, Nova took him into her mouth with a soft moan, revelling in the salty taste as she worked him slowly. Her hand covered what wouldn't fit in her mouth, making sure to give him her full attention.

"Nova. Fuck-" Harry's hips bucked forwards unexpectedly, causing her to gag at the feeling of his length hitting the back of her throat before she was ready. As soon as Harry noticed, he backed off a little with a small apology but Nova was unfazed.

Instead, she took it as a challenge. She willed her throat to relax and took him deeper into her mouth, making sure to swirl her tongue over his tip as she sucked to make him squirm. Gorgeous moans tumbled from Harry's open lips and Nova peered up at him through her lashes to see his eyes had fluttered closed and brows knitted together with pleasure.

The sight alone was enough to get Nova soaked and she found herself in desperate need of relief, something she wasn't currently getting from Harry. It was time to take matters into her own hands...literally. Taking advantage of Harry being too wrapped up in his pleasure, she trailed her free hand down past the waistband of her thong and began to tease her clit slowly.

Her rhythm never faltered on Harry's cock as she continued to toy with her clit, her soft moans only adding to the rockstar's pleasure. It was only when she pushed a finger past her folds that her attention slowly became focused on herself, something that Harry was quick to pick up on.

"Just can't help yourself, can you?" His voice was husky with lust as his fist tugged Nova's hair hard enough that she was pulled off his cock with a soft pop. A playful smile brightened her features all while she continued to work herself deeper towards the blissful waves of an orgasm crashing over her. "Always have to misbehave."

His rough hand snaked back around her neck, squeezing a little as he demanded she get back on her feet. Reluctantly, she did as she was told, the fire in his eyes persuading her to go along with his instructions so she could finally get the dick she'd been dreaming of for days.

Without warning, Harry had spun her around and had her pinned against the tour bus with his tall frame. Her bare tits were pressed against the cool surface of the bus, serving as a welcome relief to her burning skin as Harry's hot breath ghosted her neck. Dragging his tongue against her fevered skin, the rockstar nibbled and sucked his way upwards until his teeth tugged at her earlobe.

"Need me to teach you a lesson? Hmm." His tone was dripping with arrogance but Nova didn't care to bite back at this moment. For once she was going to keep quiet and let him take what he wanted. A small nod was all she gave him, unable to trust her voice from wavering the moment she opened her mouth but this earned her a sharp tug on her curls in reprimand.

"Use your words, sweetheart." He purred, rolling his hip against her ass to remind her of what she could have if she did as she was told. "Lord knows it's never been an issue before."

Harry's foot gently nudged Nova's legs further apart as his arm wrapped around her waist, waiting for verbal consent before touching her aching cunt.

"Please, Harry-" She whined desperately, pushing her hips backwards slightly in an attempt to get him to do something, anything, that would ease the ache between her legs. "Fuck me, please."

Harry's fingers slowly began to circle Nova's clit over the fabric of her thong while she spoke, his movements just slow enough to keep her on edge and drag this out for longer. He could tell she was holding back a little, perhaps unsure how far Harry wanted to take this, but he was determined to make her feel comfortable.

"You can do better than that, darling." He demanded, "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Harry, just fuck me. Teach me to be your good girl, please." Nova's breathless whines got Harry's cock throbbing with need, a bead of precum collecting at the tip as he pictured all the possible ways he could truly teach her a lesson. But they were outside where anyone could catch them at any moment. He had no idea how much time had passed since he'd walked offstage but he did know that the crew would soon be wanting to hit the road for the next stop.

If he wanted to take his time with Nova, it would have to wait until he had a night in a hotel. For now, they'd just have to fuck out the tension between them and Harry was more than alright with a quickie after a night of so much teasing.

"Need to be quick, sweetheart. Don't wanna get caught." Harry panted, peppering lazy kisses against her skin as he took his thick length in his hand and began to drag his tip along her clothed cunt.

"Don't care, just need you inside me." But when Harry continued to tease her, she quickly added. "Please, honey."

"So polite." A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled her thong aside. Without hesitating, he entered Nova with a groan of pleasure, his mind completely overwhelmed by the feeling of her tight cunt taking him so well as his thick length stretched her out. "Fuck, baby. So fucking perfect."

His fingertips dug into Nova's hips as he slowly began to move, heavy breaths and pretty moans of pleasure rang through the air as Harry took control. It took all of Harry's strength to keep her right where he wanted, pinned tightly between his sweaty body and the cool surface of the bus as she squirmed with desire. As much as she knew they needed to be quick, she wanted Harry completely - she needed him to kiss her, to fuck her, to give all of himself to her. Their current position made it almost impossible for that to happen but she supposed that was what she'd asked for, to be taught how to behave.

As Harry had alluded to, bad girls don't get what they want.

"H-Harder, need more." Nova moaned and Harry growled in response. His hips snapped sharply upwards, causing his cock to brush against her g-spot as he fucked her as she demanded. But it still wasn't enough. She wanted to see him, to watch him fall into the depths of pleasure while he fucked her - this wasn't her.

Never had she been so needy, so desperate to be so close to someone during a quick hookup. Harry was different, she wasn't sure why but he was, even with such a horrible attitude.

"Harry-" She went to speak up, but it seemed as if he was feeling the same.

"I know, sweetheart." He nodded in understanding, pulling out quickly and allowing her to face him once more. "Wanna watch as you fall apart."

His strong arms gripped her thighs, helping her jump slightly so he could wrap her legs around his waist. Their mouths met in a heated kiss as Harry pushed her back against the bus once more - Nova's moans being swallowed by Harry as he made sure they wouldn't get caught. Nova's hand tangled itself in his curls, tugging hard enough to make his eyes close with satisfaction, the other wrapping around his cock to guide him back inside her.

From this new position, she immediately felt him hitting the perfect spot with every thrust.

"So deep." Her words were breathless, her mind going blurry as waves of pleasure began to build within her. "Needed you so bad."

"Oh yeah? Needed me to fuck you like the slut you are?" Harry taunted, sweaty forehead pressed against hers as he continued fucking her with a surprising amount of energy considering the long day he'd had. "Fuck you raw, fill you to the brim with my come?"

The sound of skin slapping and fevered moans filled the air as Harry picked up the pace, his rhythm never faltering as his lips attached themselves to the soft skin of her neck once again, making sure she was marked up just to his liking.

"Yeah, baby. I want it all. Need all of you." Everything was starting to become a little hazy as she succumbed to every feeling rolling through her body. Harry knew exactly how to please her and her body was responding accordingly. Her toes curled in her boots, eyes rolled shut and lips fell open as she felt the wave rising in her lower stomach.

"Look at you, such a good girl taking me so well." He praised, smirking as Nova let out a loud moan, tight cunt clenching around his cock with approval. "Can't wait to take my time with you, spread you out on my bed all night."

His hips began to falter, every thrust bringing the pair of them closer to release. Neither of them cared how loud they were being, whether any lingering fans could hear them from the other side of the arena walls.

"Harry." Nova's head fell back against the bus as she threatened to topple over the edge and Harry jerked his hips harder as he chased his own orgasm.

"Go on, baby. Let go f'me."

And with that, Nova's orgasm hit her instantly. Her hips bucked in time with Harry's as he helped her through the waves of pleasure that crashed over her, his own release following soon after as she clamped around him tightly. Thick come painted her insides as Harry rested his forehead against Nova's chest, both of them panting quietly as the night air stilled around them once more.

Minutes ticked by as they remained embraced in the shadowed privacy between the two buses, neither one of them wanting to separate.

"That was-" Nova started only to get cut off by Harry who seemed to share her thoughts. Realising it must be time for the crew to nearly make their way back out to the buses, Harry pulled out so both of them could tidy up their appearances to look presentable in front of anyone close by.

"Fuck, why didn't we do this sooner?"

Both of them chuckled lightly, Nova pulling her skirt back down against her thighs as Harry zipped his trousers back up. There was no awkwardness between them, their little escapade had only served to bring them closer together, all the tension between them now out of their systems.

"We could always go for round two." She suggested playfully, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck to peck a soft kiss on his lips. After being so close to his warm body, she found it hard to face the possibility of spending her night alone in her bed.

"My bus or yours?"

[elioslover]

Masks On (Harry Styles x reader x smut).

Premise: Harry finally visits a sex club and what are the chances, you just so happen to be doing the same thing.

Word Count: 8k+ / Other Writing

Warnings: Smut from start to finish. P in V, Unprotected sex, literally all the sex things, just pure FILTH. Afab 2nd person (minimal OC description).

Also, shout-out to @justmeinatree for the encouragement and @caramello-styles for being such a sweetheart!

🍒

Harry feels the energy shift as soon as he steps out from the mass of thick, velvet curtain that worked to shield the utter filth that lay just beyond. The club- as referred to, looks more like a converted condo, with walls dyed with deep hues, ultraviolet lights instead of harsh bulbs, and purple and red bounce across the room- the floors, the ceilings.

Though the room is busy, everyone is scattered, and it feels spacious enough. Harry observes the array of beds and sofa’s instead of tables and chairs; people are going at it, moans mixing in with the deep bass emitted from nearby speakers.

Patrons- dressed in only bowties and Grecian inspired masks, carrying trays of beverages and sex toys with a formality that seemed foolish for a play like this. The pretty penny Harry had paid to be here was clearly being put to good use.

The entire thing screamed ‘filthy rich fun’, which, even for Harry, seemed almost awestriking; it was the type of elite secrecy one would never dream of, and if he had any doubt about joining this evening, it was erased the minute a waiter appeared before him, offering up a glass of whisky he wasn’t even sure he had ordered.

To be fair, after such an effort to simply enter this place, plenty of hoops to jump through and many questions to be answered and confirmed, it only made sense that the owners would ensure it was more than worth it.

Harry put the crystal to his lips, downing its contents in an anxious bid for comfortability. Instead, it burned at his chest and sent a long shiver down his spine; he shuddered, his skin sprinkled with goosebumps.

Ridding himself of his blazer, white tank top, leather loafers, and other personal belongings when he arrived, assured they would stay safe in his absence, Harry now stands in only a pair of black briefs. They cling to his thighs, pinching at the meaty expanse of his soft skin, diffing into and trapping a few of the hairs growing at the base of his pelvis.

But Harry could be fully nude for all he cares- the platinum, Phantom of the Opera mask that covers the top half of his face and stops at the bridge of his nose has him feeling invincible and fucking frisky. He feels like the god he impersonates, ready to delve into the mass of bodies stroking and loving on one another, his cock twitching against the restricting cotton as confirmation.

The beds are king-sized, holding space for at least four, and a few are evidently occupied by many more than that. Sheer material is draped across the ceilings like a canopy, creating a cosy and inviting atmosphere. Harry heads over to an empty velvet green chaise lounge, plopping down lazily, his legs spread out, thighs splayed, his one arm resting on the armchair, his other palm laying out across his lower stomach.

He turns his attention to the nearest bed, only a meter away, and begins watching as a throuple of two males and a female are switching positions. The girl lays on her stomach, flat against the bed, ass up, as the first man crawls up, spreads her ass cheeks apart and rubs his cock against her once before thrusting himself up into her. They reach a smooth rhythm, skin slapping as the second man lines up behind them, wrapping his arm around the torse of the first man; with a loud moan, the first man bucks forward, only moaning louder as the second man falls into position and starts fucking into him.

Harry hasn’t noticed the way his hand has lowered, palming himself through his briefs, his body shifting to get more comfortable. On the same bed, another couple goes at it, a woman vigorously bouncing atop the cock of a man donned in a lion mask.

In the midst of it all, bodies thrusting and shifting- you are resting sweetly, sitting atop your folded legs, disguised by a black, sequined silver mask, stopping above the nose, your eyes so sharp that Harry spots them immediately, hooked on the way the fluorescent lights flicker the reflection of filth he has succumbed to. His first thought is about who you are, his second is why you’re currently here, and the third is the only one that really matters; how the hell can he get his hands on you?

Dressed in only your underwear, you have had your gaze set on Harry from the moment the curtains had pulled back and revealed him in all of his glory. He was a mass of chocolate curls and tattoos decorating a chiselled and muscular figure that had you wishing you could get your hands on.

For a while, he had seemed nervous, and that only had your curiosity blowing through the roof, your body aching to wrap around any part of him up for grabs. As he made his way over, your heart was in your throat, attention completely thrown from the couple you had intended to participate with just moments prior. They were going at it regardless, bumping up against you, but your focus would be unwavering, your mouth watering at the view of his thighs, thick and spread out just for you.

He seems to be looking your way- maybe just observing the other couples, but something tells you by the way his body shifts, his eyes hidden but holding your own gaze, makes you feel like he might want you just as you want him.

A woman, her hair long and auburn, hidden behind a green dragon mask, drops onto the bed beside you, her knees softly hitting the mattress as she whispers suggestively into the shell of your ear. Cheeks flushed, your gaze remains on Harry, with the way he managed to stir such wanting in you, all by just sitting across the room.

His intrigue seems to pique, waiting to see what your plan was- were you going to entertain the woman next to you? Her cool fingers tickling their way up your spine, your body an eruption of goosebumps.

And you wish he would just come over or that you had the confidence to greet him yourself, but he seems comfortable and unwavering, leaving you to turn your attention back to something actually tangible; the woman currently pressing her lips to the nape of your neck.

Shifting your body to greet her own, you sit up on your knees and boldly wrap your hands like a chain around the back of her neck. She leans into your touch, anticipating your next move, a soft gasp escaping her lips as yours pressed on firmly, tongue licking into her own.

Your eyes have fluttered shut, your body soothed into the sultry kisses sucking at your bottom lip, but your thoughts wander over to the man on the couch, hoping to some god that he might be watching, that he might be regretting the choice to stay put.

Lips parting for deep inhalation, the woman’s hands are soft and static as they trail the soft mounds of your skin, and when your eyes finally open in the hopeful search of the man, you are more than surprised to find him much closer now, standing at the end of the bed.

His gaze is certainly set on your own, and you want to feel bashful at the circumstances, but the erotic stimulation happening all around you and the way Harry is looking at you hungrily, his muscles flexing involuntarily, only dampens your panties further, has your thighs clenching tighter.

He must notice because his pupils are blown, and he is crawling over now, slowly stalking out his prey, happily trapped in the arms of an auburn woman. He is more than welcome, though, your back pressing into the woman's chest, her lips still tickling at your throat, and when he comes to a halt at the base of your knees, you feel zero embarrassment as they part as a welcoming gift, offering him anything he desires.

“Well, hello pretty girl.” He greets, his cock throbbing as your chest raises and you take a sharp inhale, blinking at him in a way that has him feeling like a sinner- and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Hi handsome.” You respond, doing your best to keep your voice from cracking, almost completely distracted by the look of arousal in his eyes that seems to be increasing at just the sound of your voice, like a siren song only luring him further into the ocean in which you resided.

Harry can hardly stop himself from sighing out, from snatching you up and fucking you into submission, instead taking his time in luring you closer, his cock pleased at the ease with which you opened up for him, mind a mess of where to start.

He taps your thigh as an instruction, satisfaction shivering at his spine as you comply, spreading your legs, bum pressed flat to the mattress. Harry can't stop himself from wrapping his palms around your ankles, tugging you forward with enough force to have you exhaling a squeak, the woman’s grip tightening around your chest.

He looks at you like you are supper, his hands trailing their way up your calves, stroking slowly; as he reaches your thighs, he gives them a selfish squeeze, crawling his way over until he is almost face-to-face with the white lace of your panties.

His breath is cool as it fans over the heat of your lower abdomen, legs threatening to quake, and his grip only tightens, his stern stare never wavering, watching your every breath, the way your chest rises and falls in anticipation.

With the gentlest of kisses to your panty-clad crotch, you cannot withhold the deep sigh that slips past your lips, a keen whine whistling its way over to him, his stomach clenching, blood rushing to his cock. Harry’s tongue slips past his plump lips, licking a firm strip up your damp lace, his mouth watering in synch.

His left hand finds a firm home on your hip, helping to keep you pinned between the bed and his touch; his right-hand trails tauntingly along your sternum, fingers dancing into the dip of your belly button, playing your hipbones and pelvis like a harp before a sudden gush of coolness catches you off guard and his thumb hooking into the slit of your panties, tugging them aside in one firm go.

Your eyes widen with lust, unable to look anywhere but at the holy sight below you; the woman cradling your torso presses her lips wherever space omits, travelling in search of the mounds of your breasts, and your entirety is begging to turn to mush in the arms of pleasure as Harry leans forward and gives your pussy the gentlest of kisses, your eyes fluttering shut as he presses another, then another, his tongue joining in to lap at you, dipping into you.

He holds you in place with ease- where the hell would you rather be right now? And as the auburn woman latches her teeth around your pebbled nipple, your leg’s part even further- if possible- prompting Harry to release you from his prior grip, to hold you at the waist, his body pressed into the mattress, his cock flush and swollen from even the slightest of friction.

He can't stop from thrusting forward as a soft mewl slips past the gaps in your teeth, tongue pressing into you, gliding up your slit, flicking at your clit before his free hand cannot help but join the mix, massaging at your inner thigh, teasing at you as you buck your hips up in anticipation. 

It's difficult to keep from sighing out in pleasure, but you try your best, harshly capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, tugging harder as Harry continues licking into you, flattening his tongue, flicking it against your clit, dipping into your entrance. 

He has died and gone to heaven; his chin is coated in you, glistening under the neon lights, and with one hand still stroking and squeezing at your inner thigh, Harry uses the other to hook into the bands of your panties, hastily guiding them down the hills and valleys of your body and you assist, ass raising from the mattress, balancing on one leg as he slides the material along and off of your skin. 

Discarded and dismissed, you are bare and spread for him, a sight Harry will be committing to memory, and he looks at you hungrily- you’re ready to be ravished.

Your pussy is practically dripping, and Harry’s hand must be possessed because it reaches out, and his finger glides through your slit, quickly dampening. The sigh you release is almost sinister, and Harry has his face buried between your thighs in an instant. 

With his tongue licking at you, the almost forgotten auburn woman is still trailing kisses along your neck, her fingers tweaking and squeezing at the skin of your breasts. You are officially a mess of pleasure, ready to beg for more- anything- all of him. 

It’s like he reads your mind as his fingers start to tease at your pussy, rubbing back and forth, his tongue focusing on your clit, swirling circles, his middle finger slipping past your entrance with such ease that Harry mutters, “fuck me” and lets it slide all the way in, curling upward. With such positive reception from yours truly, he keeps at it, all of his focus dedicated to pleasing you. 

With the way his one finger becomes two, pumping into you with such vigour, you are writhing beneath him, thighs threatening to clamp around his head like earmuffs, blocked by his one hand keeping you put. 

Your head starts to lull back into the auburn woman’s lap, but Harry is quick to correct this, pulling out his fingers completely, sticky and wet, his mouth changing from loving on you to scolding, 

“Uh, uh.” He taunts, his brows furrowed, “Eyes on me, princess.” 

You do everything in your power to comply, staring at him with all your might as he gets back to work, a satisfied smile still lingering on his lips as his tongue laps at your pussy, his fingers fucking back into you, curling, picking up the pace. 

His fingers are in complete rhythm with his tongue- they are on a mission. And by the sounds currently escaping your lips, chest rising and falling needily, Harry is certainly succeeding.

But each moment that passes is becoming agonizing for him, desperate to substitute his fingers for his cock, currently aching to bury itself inside you. 

Harry tries to pacify his cock by grinding up against the mattress, but this only has him moaning against your pussy, which in turn has you doing the same, your hands fisting the sheets. 

He can no longer hold on, flattening his tongue to give you one last good licking before he removes his fingers and then himself, leaving you in absolute awe and confusion- a spark of panic flashing across your features. 

Harry doesn’t want to startle you, but you can't stop the yelp that escapes you as his hands wrap around your ankles, and with one tug, you are before him, his face aligned with your torso. 

He stands, holding out his hand to assist you in doing the same. You do, and once your feet are safely planted on the floor, Harry’s hands are kneading at your waist and hips. He permits you a moment to stabilise before his hands find the back of your thighs, and he hoists you up into your arms, legs wrapping around his waist. 

Pussy bare and pressed against his torso, the five-step walk over to the sofa feels endless, so when he finally sits, safely cradling your back, you lower with him, coming to a rest atop his cool thighs, knowing he will be slick with wet by the time you’re finished with him.

Arms wrapped loosely across his shoulders, your fingers play with the loose curls at the base of his neck, and you lean, the outline of your mask bumping up against his own as you finally retrieve what you’ve been after all along, pressing your lips to his, tongue taking out all of your prior frustrations as it tangles with his own, scrapes along his teeth, traps and tugs his bottom lip until he is left begging for breath, lips plump and freshly-stung.

Going in for more, your palms find the sides of his face, sandwiching him between lustrous kisses, your chest pressing to his own, a whine bubbling at your throat when his grip tightens, holding you hostage and creating a gap just small enough for his hands to slip from their place on your back and to cup your breasts, squeezing and palming them as his tongue continues to lap at your own.

With the feeling of your nipples perking up so nicely beneath his thumbs, Harry cannot resist the urge to start trailing sloppy kisses along the nape of your neck, your clavicle, his open mouth leaving a trail as it makes its way down your chest, his tongue licking at the valley of your breasts before his lips finally catch your nipple, flicking at it, your body arching back desperately, pleading for more.

With a harsh nip, his tongue soothes your swollen skin, his hands squeezing at the mounds of your breasts, and your body has a mind of its own now, jutting up against him, your pussy sad to be met with only the friction of his briefs, desperate to grind your wetness across his cock, feel him slipping between your folds.

After the third time, your body glides down into contact with his own, a frustrated sigh slipping past your lips; Harry seems to catch on and woefully unlatches his mouth from your skin, but with more than just happiness, he shifts beneath you- and you also shift to allow him better access- his fingers hooking into the bands of his briefs, tugging them down in one swift motion to settle around his mid-thighs.

His cock springs up, swollen with relief and flush with freedom. Your gaze never wavers, hyper-focused on how pretty the man sitting beneath yours truly is- all of him is just too good to be true at this point.

You want to spend eternity, or at least a moment, marvelling and taking him all in, but he is closer than ever, and your pussy is clenching at just the sight of him- practically screeching to have him buried deep inside you.

With that, you reach out and give him one mandatory stroke, to soothe both him and yourself, and by the way his mouth parts, his eyes hooded, body jolting and then relaxing back into your touch, you sling your leg over his lap to straddle him, his face level with your chest, his hands instinctively coming to a rest on the pillows of your hips.

Your arms become a noodle around his neck like in preparation for dancing the salsa, your hips rocking forward without hesitation, pussy skating along the length of his shaft, leaving him slick with just one stroke.

Harry doesn’t even try to stop the string of mutters he sings out into the crevasse of your breasts, breath fanning chills all along your skin just as your hips buck again, sliding up against him, squeaking out as the tip of his cock rubs up against your clit.

You push on into an agonisingly slow rhythm, dragging out each stroke until Harry is so frustrated that he works extra hard to avoid rutting up into you- oddly satisfied letting you take the lead- so his mouth begins leaving sloppy kisses along your chest, your shoulders, the creases of your neck. And whilst the idea of holding onto this sense of control was something you really wanted to indulge in, you cannot stop your body from picking up speed, ever so slightly upping the rhythm.

Harry is struggling to keep himself from turning the two of you over and fucking you into the sofa cushions, taking out his agitation by unexpectedly spitting on your chest, and both of your gazes drop to watch as the dribble of spit travels like a delicate stream down the valley of your breasts, meandering towards your bellybutton.

You rut up against him with force now, pupils swelled and hungry. At the last minute, Harry commands his pelvis not to thrust, taking a section of skin on your breast between his front teeth, nipping and sucking at it until it stings, giving you one last tug before pulling back, his tongue slipping out to softly lap at the blooming bruise. Tiny and speckled with red and purple, this mark will serve as a reminder of the scandalous events of this evening.

More so, this mark is the last straw, your lips angrily finding his own, tongues arguing for domination- Harry’s succumbs the second one of your hands reaches down between your laps, grabbing at his cock and guiding him into you without a second thought.

You take him in with ease, but he is a stretch the further you slide down on him, your belly feeling full as your body finally comes to a sitting on his cock. Harry’s head has tilted back, his eyes fluttering open and shut.

He wants to thrust up, he wants to watch your breasts and body bounce about atop of his cock, needs to see the way your skin jiggles and stretches for him, the way your face crinkles up in pleasure and satisfaction… but Harry lets you do anything you want, lets himself be at your mercy.

And fuck, you make the idea of losing control feel really good, raising your body until only his tip remains inside of you, threatening to leave him out in the cold, but at the last moment, you grind back down, letting him fill you up gluttonously, easily finding a groove, your backside slapping against his thighs, skin-to-skin creating the beat of a drum, and with each smack, you only want to go faster, harder, unable to resist the need to tease and drag things out.

Harry is a mess of moans, only making you feel like you are being cheered on during a marathon, encouraging you to up your stamina and reach the finish line in record time. His hands are all over you, tugging you closer, one hand wrapping tighter around your waist, guiding you up and down his cock, desperate to hear you whine louder, to let others know how good it felt to be riding him. And you want everyone to know, too; you want them to know that they could all leave, and you would be more than happy to just let Harry spend the rest of the evening fucking you into a semi-permanent coma.

Harry shifts, spreading his legs to offer you a new angle, ready to drool as a dragged-out sigh slips out from deep within you, and he knows he’s just hit a good spot.

So, as any good boy would, Harry bucks up into you again and again, motivated by each moan, putting his all into making you sing for him, your hand digging into his biceps, then his back, down his torso, squeezing at his thighs as your stomach starts to clench, heart rate picking up and when you start to feel lightheaded, you welcome the wave of euphoria threatening to wash over- you hear nothing but the soft praises Harry mutters for your pleasure, your body grinding down on his pelvis desperately chasing your high, whining out as his hand spreads your cheeks, guiding you through a long-anticipated orgasm.

Coming down, your head slumps against his damp shoulder, cheek pressing into his warm, soft skin. You can hear his heartbeat; it’s as fast as your own- if not faster; his breaths are scattered, and Harry wonders what will happen next.

He wants to revel in the moment but is hit with disappointment as you slowly and carefully guide him out of you, and he wants to hiss out at the cruel loss of contact.

Your leg swings over and off of his lap, standing tall and gazing down at him with a curious brow furrow that has Harry ready to question his entire existence, but when your arm extends out to him, offering to wrap his hand in your own, Harry feels butterflies beating at his belly, and he accepts in an instant, ridding himself of his briefs, tossing them aside with little to no regard before grabbing your hand, feeling fuzzy at the visual of how small it looks cradled in his own.

Trailing behind you, willing to let you drag him just about anywhere, it seems you have targeted a bed sitting empty in a quaint corner of the room.

But your ass is bouncing with each step you take, and with gravity offering him such a gracious gift, Harry's hand reaches out with the need to grab, settling with a soft slap to your left cheek, a chuckle slipping past his lips as you let out a little whimper of surprise, body jolting forward, thighs jiggling for his absolute pleasure, and all thoughts of the bed are forgotten as Harry pushes your bodies into the nearest pillars. The look in your eyes adjusts from surprise to arousal at the newfound feeling of your body being backed up into the icy marble, turning into a tornado as Harry's simmering skin keeps you mounted like a shiny trophy.

Harry thinks he's really got you now, your skin so silky, your muscles contracting against his own, keening into his hold, lashes batting up at him like he holds the keys to the garden of Eden; with softness, he presses a breathy kiss to your own parted lips, and now that he has you so perfect and patient, he hasn't the faintest clue where to start.

It would be polite to give him a moment to gather his thoughts, perhaps plot his next move, but you know exactly what you want- no, need- next, and with Harry's head so preoccupied with the idea of you that his hold isn't strong enough to stop you from slipping out from his trap, turning around, your palms pressing flat to your chest as you gift him a gentle, but firm push, his back smacking into the same marble you had just escaped.

Harry feels awestruck, unsure what to think, but his cock is certainly pleased, throbbing at the unfamiliar shift in dynamic, desperate to see what you might do next. And when his eyes, swollen with lust, focus on your own, there is a glimmer of certainty that has him almost keeling over; the need to get on his knees and beg for you is killing him.

But it seems that you are the one who will be on your knees as you keep one palm against his chest, unsure of whether he's willing to stay put, and your body drops to the floor, knees happily greeting the tiles.

With your left hand still holding him in place and your right hand coming to a rest on his waist, fingers squeezing into his fleshy cheeks, Harry's head lulls black in bliss, throat bobbing, both of his hands casting a shadow over your own, wrapping around your wrists like pretty bracelets.

Leaning forward ever so sweetly, your lips pucker and place a polite kiss on the tip of his cock. Harry's hips buck forward without his consent, and your hand leaves his chest, gliding lazily down his torso until it comes to rest on his shaft.

Thoughts of how perfectly he fits between your fingers are blurring your vision, but at the sound of Harry pathetically hissing from above, your grip tightens, body shuffling closer, his own hand settling like a scarf around the back of your neck. His hand stays statuesque, unsure of pushing your boundaries and frightened of catching your hair in one of his many rings. But when you reassuringly nuzzle your crown into his palm, Harry finally relaxes, his fingers- still carefully- slip into and massage the hair at the base of your neck.

You’ve got him right where you want him, and there’s no time to waste as you close the last of any remaining space, bowing forward and closing in like at communion, mouth opening, ready for the catholic wafer but instead closing your lips over the tip of his cock, your tongue darting out to swirl at his head and loving the way he tries to resist bucking into you, stop himself from hitting the back of your throat. 

Just the idea has you dripping, fulfilling the desire to take him further in your mouth, your free hand slowly pumping his cock, holding him in place as you suck him, slowly taking in as much as you can manage before slowly pulling back, letting your tongue trail along his shaft in your wake. 

Right as Harry begins to fear that you might release and leave him high and dry, you swallow him again, bobbing and creating a rhythm, a small sliver of spit slipping past your lips as you take him as far as your mouth will permit, tongue lapping at him, your hand pumping the base of him as Harry huffs and puffs above you. 

And when you can’t help but glance up at him from beneath hooded lashes, the way Harry cusses out and rolls his head back against the pillar is enough to have you picking up the pace, swallowing him with vigour, desperately trying to fit as much of him possible into the hollows of your cheeks.

Slowly, your head begins to bob, taking all of his cock in before pulling back, then again, and again, your hand still pumping him, spit gliding along his shaft and soaking your fingers. 

You release his cock from your mouth, still gliding your hand back and forth, pumping him and peering up at him with doe-like eyes.

“Fuck.” Harry whines, the back of his head bumping against the pillar, “Y’gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”

With a mischievous grin, you place a gentle but menacing kiss on the tip of his cock before flattening your tongue and licking his shaft from base to tip before taking all of him in your mouth once more, creating the perfect rhythm, your other hand leaving his thigh and cupping around his balls, massaging him, head grooving up and down his cock. Harry is a complete mess, his muscles flexing with each suck and release. 

You guide his cock to the hollow of your left cheek, brushing him against your mouth before ever-so-softly gliding his head along your bottom teeth and rubbing him against your right cheek. He is still moaning above you, and when you suddenly tilt forward and take him so deep that his cock brushes the back of your throat, Harry is cussing out, his hand tightening around the base of your neck. 

You lean your head back into his palm as a form of encouragement, and Harry thinks you may be the most perfect creature of planet Earth itself. He cautiously begins guiding your head, testing the waters as he becomes a guide for his cock, sliding into your mouth. 

Happy to oblige, you try to remain as still as possible, your pussy throbbing each time he brushes against your throat, and when you almost gag, Harry has officially died and gone to heaven. His pace quickens, forcefully- but so carefully- bucking into you, loving how soft and plump your lips are, how well you take him- how deep. 

The thought of his cum dripping down your chin has him in utter shambles, and that is not how he wants this evening to go- yet. So, with one last thrust and grunt, he ruefully removes himself, hissing at the rush of cool air that greets his tip and almost crying at the sight of the string of spit connecting from your lips and his cock. 

Using the back of your hand to dismiss the spit, you peer up at him curiously, rather proud of your work but still hoping to have more of him.

Harry guides your head as a gesture, hissing at the rush of air that greets the tip of his cock, and this only causes his impulses to increase- so, as soon as you have found your feet and are looking up at him with blown-out pupils and puffy pink lips, Harry finally reclaims control, his hands wrapping you up and spinning you around in one swift motion and you are now facing the pillar, your palms pressing flat against the cool surface. 

His hands find your hips, thumbs pressing into your fleshy skin and, on instinct, your back arches, ass desperate to press up against him. Harry releases his right hand from your hip, wrapping it around his stiff shaft and guiding it towards your entrance. Ass up, spine curved, your breasts press into the icy pillar, your body scooting up against the pelvis, and when the head of his cock glides along your pussy, just stopping short of your entrance, you moan out enthusiastically. 

Harry gives you one last tease, his tip slipping into you before pulling back out, but before you have the opportunity to whine out, he thrusts into you, and instead, you arch out for him even more, sighing out, breasts squishing into the pillar. 

He guides his cock in and out, painfully persevering, taking his damn time, but after a third deep and forceful thrust, you shuffle back into him impatiently, and Harry wants to chuckle aloud at your lack of patience now that he has you pressed up against him. 

But your neediness is too tantalising to resist; Harry can’t stop his hips from bucking up into you, almost drooling at the hum of satisfaction you reward him with as he thrusts again, this time harder, his arm reaching around to rest his palm on your stomach, keeping you pinned as he proceeds to fuck into you. 

Harry keeps going, huffing in sync with each thrust, his stomach clenching as you mewl against him, your palms pressing into the pillar and holding on for dear life. His hand slides down from your stomach to the back of your right thigh, raising it until your knee bumps up against the marble, and when he’s certain you plan on keeping it there, he releases your leg and proceeds to pound into you, his hand snaking around until it finds your pussy, fingers gliding along your wetness, seeking out louder moans, desperate whines. 

And you are- unable to hold yourself back any longer, overcome with the electric current coursing through you with each thrust, each time his thumb brushes against your clit. You are chasing another orgasm, pushing your palms against the pillar in an attempt to get closer to him.

Harry kindly obliges, pressing his chest into your back, pulling you flush against his damp and flexed torso as he keeps at it, bucking up into you with all of his willpower, hands grabbing at you, adamant to have you as near as possible. 

Right as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge for a second time in just minutes, Harry interrupts by pulling out and wrapping you up in his arms and hastily turning you around to face him. Concern flashes across his features as your back bumps up against the pillar, but when you only whine out, your left leg lifting up, calf wrapping around his waist, Harry guides his cock back into you, bucking up with commitment and determination to have you come unravelled against him once more. 

And you are unravelling, chemistry at play as your body becomes a mix of ecstasy and euphoria. You are grabbing at every part of him, never wavering for too long, tugging at his hair, squeezing at his biceps, pressing your pelvis up against his own. Harry is doing the same, feeding off of your needy whines, unsaid pleas for him to keep going, and when you can’t help but turn them into verbal pleas, asking him so sweetly to fuck you “just like that”, he is in an absolute state, 

“Yeah?” He confirms- only for the sake of hearing you speak up again, 

“Yeah.” You stutter out, nails digging into the nape of his neck, scraping along his shoulder. 

Harry is enamoured, you’re being such a good girl for him, and he wants to reward you for being so. But he also wants to be a little testy and has the urge to see how much nicer you’re willing to be for him, so he deems it necessary to hold out on you a tad longer.

He wraps his arm around the middle of your back, pressing you into him, and he bows his head and leans in as close to your ear as possible, his warm breath fanning over the nook of your neck and clavicle, ensuring you hear him loud and clear, 

“Ask me nicely.” 

Your head snaps up, looking at him with incredulity, but too desperate to do anything other than give him what he wants. One of your hands finds his torso, palms trailing along his chest as your other hand tightens around his neck in physical protest, which is the last thing that would ever slip past your lips. Trying your best to give him your politest plea, your mouth plump and puckered, mousey eyes flickering playfully up at him, 

“Pretty please.”

And that’s all Harry needs, thrusting into you with repayment, revelling in the way your body accepts his reward so enthusiastically. He picks up the pace, pounding into you and making certain that you are more than welcome to come undone all over him, 

“Such a good girl for me.”

You’re nodding at him desperately, body crumbling with each praise he is granting you, and when his palm slips down between your bodies, landing on your pussy and lazily swirling loops atop your clit, you are a shaking mess- in a frenzy and falling over the edge, coming all over his cock, softly chanting, “yes, yes.”

“So, so good.” He reminds you, holding onto you, keeping you secure and satisfied. He can feel the familiar stirring in his stomach, his cock twitching and tempted to come all over you.

But there’s no way he’s done with you, and he cannot fathom finishing now. 

Your bucking has slowed, head lulling into the crook of his neck, trying to steady your breathing, and instead of giving in to an impending orgasm, Harry pats your bum firmly, wrapping an arm around your thigh, encouraging you to jump up into his arms. 

He is still fully inside you and doesn’t plan on changing that, effortlessly guiding you up into his arms, one of his hands still on your backside, the other cradling your back. With great care, Harry starts to walk, staying slow and peering over his shoulder to make sure he’s going in the right direction. 

Thankfully, the pillar was already the halfway point to the bed you had targeted earlier, and with your lips lazily trailing kisses along his torso, your nails digging into his back, Harry was overjoyed when his feet bumped into the base of the bed. 

Impressively, he bows forward- your bodies still bound- his knees denting the mattress, lowering your bodies onto the bed until your back is pressed into the sheets and Harry is hovering over you, balancing on his forearms, his forehead brushing against your own.

“Ready to go again, princess?” His cool breath fans across your features, and you are nodding as if your life depends on it, your pelvis bucking up against him.

Harry’s brows furrow in amusement, his head bowing, lips brushing up against the shell of your ear, “Use your words, lovely.” 

“Fuck.” You huff out, your right leg tightening around his waist, one of your hands digging into his bicep and the other tugs at his hair, “Please.” And just so he really gets the message, you add, “I want you.” 

“Want me to what?” He drawls, tongue tickling your neck as one of his hands massages your breast. 

“Fuck me.” Your reply is emotionless, stern and impatient, “Want you to fuck me.”

“Sassy little one, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles, squeezing your thigh endearingly. 

You roll your eyes as if he hasn’t just stated the obvious, lifting your pelvis up to rub against him. His pupils are blown, and you want him inside of you- now. 

“Are you gonna fuck me?” you ponder, nails dragging along his shoulder, “Or do I need to find someone else?” there is nobody alive that you could want more than him; he should know this from the way you are so eager to please him, but the mere suggestion has Harry thrusting into you mercilessly.

You whine out in both stupor and ecstasy, your back arching off of the bed, your breasts pressing into his chest. With one of his arms still holding him in place, Harry’s free hand comes up to cradle your face, your foreheads slick with sweat and sticking together. 

His hands are about as big as your head, and that alone contributes to the next sigh you release, bucking up into him, meeting his thrusts in the middle, your pelvises slapping into one another. 

Harry marvels at the way your bodies seem to so easily find a rhythm each time like you were made for him, and he for you. His thrusts are deep and with intention, stretching your pussy with satisfaction. 

“Christ.” He huffs in astonishment, “Y’ feel so fuckin’ good.” 

You can only moan out in agreement, at a complete loss for words. The only thing you feel is satisfaction sparking throughout your wholeness, and the only other thing you can think about is how badly you wish you knew his name- hoping to call it out to him as he pounds into you, desperate to reward him for doing such a good job. 

Harry can't remember ever feeling so engaged in fucking someone- was there a time? Nothing before or after this moment matters; he could now die a happy man. You feel so warm and worked-up, pressed into him, grabbing at any part of him available for the taking. 

He wants to let you, doesn’t mind if you spend hours or even days exploring him, poking and prodding his limbs and skin for reactions, having him like putty in your hands- all yours. 

“More.” You huff out when it seems that Harry is getting caught up in his thoughts, and he thrusts into you so generously that your head lulls back to greet the mattress. 

But now you are too far away for Harry’s liking; he needs to see those pretty eyes and pretty flushed cheeks, needs to see how good of a job he’s doing at pleasing you. His hand cradles the back of your neck, guiding your head back up, his lips waiting to latch onto your own. 

Breathy kisses become open-mouthed ones. Harry’s tongue is dancing all along your mouth, biting on your lip and sucking on your tongue. Still, in a battle of kisses, Harry’s hand sweeps along your face and his pointer finger slips into your mouth. You suck on him like you were born solely for this purpose, and it’s Harry’s turn to stop his head from rolling back. 

He keeps on at it, licking into your mouth while his cock rams into you relentlessly, each thrust accompanied by skin slapping, deep moans, hums of satisfaction and a stirring in your chest that only increases as Harry bends your leg and pins it to your chest, fucking into you from an angle that feels so good that you begin slipping away into a realm of pure pleasure. 

“Like that?” Harry pants out, each thrust more purposeful than the last. 

“Just like that.” You nod vigorously with gratefulness. 

“Good girl.” He praises with a sloppy kiss, “Look so good like this.” 

Harry keeps thrusting, and it’s not long before the look on your face starts morphing with frustrated delight, your eyes threatening to squeeze shut. But you don’t want to look away, instead glancing between your grooving bodies, in awe of the sight of his cock coated with all of you, pumping in and out so gracefully. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” He is kissing your neck, tongue wet and trailing along your skin. 

And that is all you need to guide you back into another orgasm, your hips raised off of the bed and grinding up against his pelvis in a circular motion, hands holding onto him for dear life. 

Harry groans, almost growls out, pushing into you, trying to pull you closer than physically possible, “Just like that, sweetheart.” You are definitely a sucker for his praises, desperate for more, and he obliges, “So good for me.” 

With a surprising twist, Harry is forced to confront his impending orgasm as you pose a rather prolonged request, “Want you to cum for me.” 

He wants to panic, the thought of this being over is simply heinous, but you only chuckle at the obvious distress beginning to warp his features and reassure him, “I still have plenty in store for you.” And for good measure, you add, “Unless you can’t… keep up.”

Harry knows you’re only taunting him for the fun of it, but the suggestion is obscene, and he seeks to prove you wrong. You are still grinding up against him, whimpering at the sensitivity, nevertheless needy for more, so he picks up the pace, ramming into you with everything he has to offer, his arm bending further into the bed to get closer, and your arms wrap around him to assist, tugging him flush against you, teeth nipping at his neck. 

“Gonna let me swallow you, pretty boy?” You blink up at him innocently, “Wanna taste you so badly.”

His thrusts are getting sloppier, slower and more determined. Now that the offer of an orgasm is on the table, lying beneath him, so pretty and so tasty, Harry can’t resist pushing into you harder, deeper, grunting and huffing along, skin shivering at the feel of your nails tickling at his torso. 

And when you tilt your head and aim your teeth for his ear, nipping his earlobe only to soothe it with the flick of your tongue, you ask one more time, “Pretty please.” 

“Fuck. Fuck.” Is all Harry can muster in between a mess of moans, struggling to keep his weight from coming down on you, his free hand wrapping around your waist to hold you still, his cock wailing for release.

And he gets exactly what he’s been searching for, thrusting into you once more, treasuring it as he pulls out, stroking at his cock as the two of you shuffle around and you are quickly on your knees, mouth spread wide, tongue flat and pushing past your lips. 

Harry doesn’t think he has ever seen something- someone- so beautiful, and he doesn’t stop thinking this as he starts to cum, spilling onto your tongue, his cock throbbing at the sight of you swallowing him so kindly, at the glistening of your swollen lips, the bobbing of your throat. 

You wear your satisfaction with pride, and for the first time, you wonder if Harry actually can keep up. He hadn’t said so, in words, at least. But he is still close and starts edging closer, desperate to have his hands back on you. He gets what he wants, and you shuffle closer, following his gaze as it shifts to the nearest patron, using his free hand to gesture for their attention. 

Before you get the chance to get too confused, the patron steps closer, and you can now clearly see the contents of his silver platter. Staring up at you is an array of toys, small and large, feathered or leather or even metal. You don’t even need to glance over at Harry to tell him you are definitely game, instead reaching out with an item already in mind. 

Harry watches as you select your weapon of choice, turning back to him with satisfaction and a cheeky smile, the chosen toy on display is just begging to be played with, and it seems that both of you are ready to oblige. 

🍒

Forgive me for I am a sinner and I feel zero regrets. Hell can have me because I am DONE. I hope you guys enjoy this one! It's been a while since I've blessed the children with smut and I hope I have succeeded lmao. - Emmy. xo 💞

[lemoncrushh]

You And I

Summary: Alyssa always wanted Harry, so every time he called, she was there waiting for him at the bar. But one night, things shifted between them.

Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), maybe a little angst. 18+ ONLY!

Word Count: 4.5k+

A/N: Originally written and posted in 2019. Harry x OC, AU, written in first person. Loosely inspired by the Lady Gaga song (not the 1D song lol).

He’d told me to wait for him at the bar. I sat at the corner, nursing a gin and tonic while the band broke down their equipment. I laughed when Billy Joel’s “Piano Man” began playing through the speakers, the line about the old man making love to his tonic and gin poignantly accentuating the scene.

“Fitting, yeah?” chuckled Bruno, the bartender I’d come to know well over the last few months.

I sneered at him as I stirred the little straw in my glass. “I dunno. I was thinking more along the lines of Lady Gaga.”

“Gaga?” Bruno raised a brow.

“Y’know. At the corner of the bar with my high heels on.”

Bruno’s shoulders shook with laughter as he wiped down the bar in front of me. “I’ll put that one on next, darling.”

“Put what on next?” I heard a voice call behind me.

I twisted around on my stool to see Harry stepping off the stage, an easy grin on his handsome face. I returned the smile, happy to get a better look at him. For the first time, the band had opted to wear makeup, something I’d urged them to try before but had never happened.

“You and I,” I teased, swinging one leg over the other. “The Gaga song.”

“Hmm,” he sounded as he approached me. Reaching his hand out, he cupped my chin, lifting it slightly before placing a soft kiss on my painted lips.

“I reckon when it comes to you and I, there will be no putting on…” he paused, a smirk causing his dimple to appear in his left cheek. “Only taking off.”

“Oh Styles, but you do have a way with words,” I quipped in a playful, faux accent.

He let out a giggle then, apparently amused by his own joke. He gave me one more kiss before tapping his hand on the bar.

“Bruno,” he said. “One more shot for the road?”

“Long as you ain’t driving, love!”

Harry eyed me, no doubt silently questioning how many drinks I’d had. In the two hours I’d been at the bar, I’d only had two drinks including the current half-drunk one in front of me. I’d watched Harry and his bandmates drink at least twice as much during their set, in addition to shots that fans in the audience had sent up.

“I’m good,” I reassured him. I was his drive home anyway. It was kind of understood.

With a nod, Bruno poured Harry a shot of dark golden liquid. Taking it in his hand, Harry clinked the glass against mine and downed it in one gulp. Lowering the glass, he smirked again when he caught me staring at him.

“Wha’?” he asked.

“Just looking at you,” I replied. “You look good with eyeliner.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Kinda sexy, actually.”

“You think?” Harry stepped closer to me, loving the attention.

“Indeed,” I continued. Then when Bruno came around and took Harry’s empty glass, I asked him. “Bruno, don’t you think Harry looks sexy with eyeliner?”

“Of course, doll!” he agreed. “Sexy AF!”

I threw my head back laughing and Harry gave Bruno a wink. “Thanks, love.”

“Sing us a song, you’re the piano man!”

At the sound of singing, I turned around again to see Jeremiah, Harry’s drummer walking towards us. The youngest member of the band, he looked so much like Pete Wentz, especially tonight with the black eyeliner.

“All packed up, H!” he told Harry. “Ready to go?”

“Um...no…” Harry tilted his head to gesture towards me. “Alyssa’s here.”

Jeremiah looked from his bandmate to me and then back, the lightbulb going off in his head.

“Oh! Yeah! Right! Sorry, mate! I’ll just…” he pointed behind him, “head out. Good to see you, Alyssa.”

“You too, hon,” I smiled. “You were smashing it tonight.”

“Thanks,” Jeremiah beamed. Then with one last wave, he stumbled over his own feet and left the way he’d come. I giggled at his adorable awkwardness, blaming it on his youth.

Swiveling back to face Harry and Bruno, I took the last few sips of my cocktail which was mostly water by then. The first chords of “You and I” started then, and I lifted my gaze to the bartender who danced with glee.

“It has been a long time since you came around,” Harry quoted the lyrics as he slid his arm around my waist.

“Two weeks, Harry,” I chuckled. “I was sat right here at this bar two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks is a long time t’me,” he murmured, his lips finding the tender spot behind my ear. I giggled softly at the touch which sent goose flesh across my skin.

“I doubt that’s the time frame Gaga was referring to,” I said wryly. “Besides, you want me around more often, perhaps you should ring or text me.”

I heard Bruno make a muffled sound of shock from behind the bar as Harry’s mouth stalled on my neck.

“I reckon I should do that,” admitted Harry.

He stood up straight then, his eyes on mine as I gave him an accusing glare. It wasn’t that I really doubted he wanted me around. But sometimes I needed that reassurance.

“You look beautiful by the way,” he said, though his words were interrupted a bit by the noise of two more lads approaching.

“Alyssa! You made it!” shouted Gavin, the band’s guitarist.

I rose from my stool and hugged both him and Max, the bassist. Two females soon followed, and I noticed the one whom I didn’t recognise wrapped her arms around Max.

“I’m so glad you went with the eyeliner tonight,” I commented. “I don’t suspect you’ll allow me to take the credit.”

Gavin grinned, “Of course, darling, it was your idea.”

“No it wasn’t,” Harry jabbed.

I turned and poked him in the ribs. “Yes it was. Let me have my moment.”

He threw his head back laughing before pulling me to him in a bear hug. I could tell he was drunk, and I could smell the whiskey on his breath, the sweat beneath his shirt, but I didn’t mind. Some of our most fun times were when we could tease each other like this. Still, sometimes I did wish he would just be honest and tell me how he felt about me, rather than always being light-hearted and funny.

Gavin, Max and the girls all got beers from Bruno before he closed up the bar. We all sat and chatted for a bit before saying our goodbyes. Then with a look - that unspoken understanding - Harry stepped off his stool, reached for my hand and followed me out to my car.

“You’re different tonight,” he finally said after a long stretch of silence except for the 90s playlist I had going.

I raised a brow as I stopped at a red light. “How do you mean?”

“I dunno. You just...are.”

I eyed him and then turned back to the road. “I got a new lipstick.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “‘s not that. You just...seem different.”

The light changed and I accelerated, my heartbeat doing the same.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I don’t understand. I’m still me.”

I heard Harry hum, perhaps in agreement. He was quiet again while the music changed from Alanis Morissette to Pearl Jam. I wondered what he meant exactly, though part of me had my own suspicions. Then when I was nearly a block from my flat, Harry reached over and turned down the radio, muting the voice of Eddie Vedder.

“Are we okay?” he asked me.

I stopped myself from giggling, something I sometimes tend to do when I’m anxious or nervous. Instead, I bit my lip and let his question roll around in my head. I pulled up to my building and parked before I finally let out a tiny laugh.

“We’re always okay, Harry,” I said with a grin.

Pulling the key out of the ignition, I opened my car door and stepped out. I half wondered if Harry would actually follow, but as I stepped onto the sidewalk, I heard the slam of the passenger door. Meeting me at the curb, he took my hand and walked with me up the stairs to my flat.

“I don’t have whiskey,” I called after I’d tossed my keys on the table and made my way to the kitchen. “But I have vodka and wine.”

“None for me, thanks,” I heard Harry reply.

“What?” I turned around, my eyes wide. Harry always wanted a nightcap.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.”

“Oh.” Now he was the one who seemed different.

“Did something happen, Alyssa?”

Taken aback, I paused a moment and shook my head. “Something...like what? When?”

“Since I saw you last,” replied Harry.

I turned from him, pretending to walk to the refrigerator. Then I changed my mind and took a glass down from the cupboard and poured myself water from the tap.

“Lots of things happen in two weeks, love,” I commented. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

Setting my untouched glass on the counter, I looked back at him. His face was expressionless, though his eyes seemed to reveal a bit more. Perhaps it was the makeup. No wonder they call the look “emo”.

“Tell me,” Harry said softly.

“Oh, so now you wanna talk?” I accused.

He stared at me blankly. “Yeah, baby.”

I snorted. “So, I’m baby now?”

“Alyssa…”

Ignoring the tone of his voice, I sighed and looked away.

“Let’s see…” I began. “I’ve been working a lot. Visited my mum last Saturday. Got my nails done. And bought the new lipstick like I mentioned...oh and I got a new succulent, see?” I reached for my newest addition to my cactus collection to show him. “I’ve named this one Prince because he has a bit of a purple hue to him-”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted.

I stared at him, frozen. “Sorry? For what?”

Harry stepped closer to me, taking Prince from my hands and setting it on the counter. “I’m sorry I waited two weeks to ring you.”

“Oh.” I blinked.

Sliding his hands around my waist, he pulled me to him. Tilting his head, he pressed his lips to mine, softly at first. When I responded with my hands sliding up his shoulders, he kissed me harder, with purpose.

“I do like the new lipstick,” he murmured against my lips. I grinned when I noticed some of it had rubbed off onto him.

“You have such pretty lips,” he added, his eyes focused on my mouth. “First thing I wanna do when I see you is kiss them.”

I smiled at his comment, not just from flattery but because I’d always felt the same about his.

“I also meant it when I said you looked beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “So do you.”

Harry grinned then, a sexy smirk. “You like the eyeliner, yeah?”

“I really do,” I nodded. “I think you should wear it more often.”

“I will if you come ‘round more often.”

“You have to ring me, Styles,” I reminded him. “I have a life, you know. As much as you may like to think otherwise, I don’t keep up with your schedule.”

“Maybe I should give it to you,” Harry said, his voice deep with no trace of humour as his hands roamed down to my bum. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“My schedule, I mean,” he added with his own chuckle. “God, woman, what are you doing to me?”

“Me?” I raised a brow.

“Yes, you. You get me all flustered, I dunno what I’m saying.”

“I’m just stood here, Harry.”

“That’s enough.”

I studied his face, trying my best to read his eyes. The green seemed more defined with the black liner, and for a split second I felt my stomach flip. I lifted my hand to touch a curl that had fallen across his forehead and heard him release a breath.

The man was definitely a mystery. For months I’d shown up here or there to see his band play. In between we might’ve had a few dates, but I never felt like what we had was anything serious. We always ended up shagging, and it wasn’t like I regretted it. We definitely had that chemistry, and we were good in bed. But I didn’t think he considered me his girlfriend; I didn’t think he considered me at all. At least, not until he was ready to see me again. And like always, I would be there when he wanted, because I really liked him.

But then he’d turn around and say something like this and I’d get all kinds of confused.

As it was, I had a hard time concentrating myself with his hands on my rear end. His lined eyes kept shifting between my own eyes and my mouth, and I could tell he wanted to kiss me again. This time, however, I was the one to give in, reaching for his neck and pulling him to me.

“Mmm, baby…” he moaned against my lips. He’d called me baby a handful of times before, but it never really meant much to me like it did now. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was...perhaps I was wanting him to feel what I felt. Or just...something.

I let my fingers linger on his chest before I began to unbutton his shirt. I knew where this was headed, but I wasn’t about to stop it. Feelings or no feelings, I wanted him in my bed again.

When I reached the bottom button, our lips broke free and Harry stared at me once again, his eyes now full of desire. At least I had a knack for reading that. Just like in the pub, I took his hand with an unspoken understanding and we walked down the hall to my bedroom.

“You got new sheets,” Harry commented.

I cringed, not sure if I was more embarrassed that I’d left my bed unmade or that he’d been there enough times to notice the sheets were different. Nervously I straightened the pillows before reaching behind me to unzip my dress.

“Let me,” I heard Harry say.

He strode across the room to me, his fingers on the zipper before I could protest. When my dress fell off my shoulders, his hands took its place, pushing it down the rest of the way. I felt the chills down to my toes as I stepped out of my heels and turned to face him.

I reckon I expected him to gawk at me some more like he’d been doing all evening, so I was completely surprised when his mouth crashed into mine. I immediately wound my arms around his neck and he lifted me up and onto the bed. He continued his assault on my mouth while his fingers tangled in my hair at the sides of my head. I could feel his erection through his jeans, the friction a fabulous sensation between my legs. Bending my knees, I lifted my hips slightly as I let out a gasp, the feeling of denim on cotton nearly too much for me.

Harry paused the snogging long enough to sit up and loop his fingers through the sides of my knickers. He looked at my face as he bit his lip. I wondered for a second if he was changing his mind, as this was usually not a part of the scenario where he’d stop.

“Something wrong?” I dare asked.

“Do you want me, Alyssa?”

My immediate reaction was more confusion. He’d never asked me that before. Sure, he’d moaned in my ear or against my mouth on more than one occasion that he wanted me. But he’d never asked if I wanted him. My expression softened and I gave him a smile.

“I always want you, Harry.”

With the tiniest grin and a nod, he pulled my panties down and let them fall on the floor. Then stood at the edge of the bed, he began to remove his own pants. I reached over to the bedside table then where I kept the condoms and pulled one out of the drawer.

“I promise I’ll bring my own next time,” I heard him say.

Lying on my back, I watched him crawl up the bed again.

“Next time?” I couldn’t help but razz him. The first time he’d stayed over, he didn’t have protection, but I did. I reckon after that it was just assumed.

“Yeah…” he lowered his face to mine. “Next time, love. I promise.”

He kissed me softly then, the softest kiss ever. He continued with a second on my chin, a third on my neck, a fourth on my chest…

I lost count after that.

I gripped the sheets underneath me when I felt his breath on my inner thigh. A low moan-like sound escaped my throat as I felt his thumb graze over me where I was already wet and waiting.

“You want me here?” Harry asked.

I barely heard him, his voice was so low and deep. But somehow my insides reacted and I managed to make a sound similar to yes.

I shut my eyes when I felt his tongue on me. He licked me delicately at first, like he was testing the temperature of his tea. I squirmed underneath him until he looped his arms around my legs and pulled me closer to him, his tongue pressing just a bit.

“Harry…” I panted. “Oh god.”

My legs shook around his head while he began to devour me, his tongue working faster. Opening my eyes, I began to watch him, as much as I could at least. I reached down and pushed that one stubborn curl from his forehead and his eyes shifted up, locking with mine.

“‘s that good, baby?” he murmured, barely tearing his mouth away.

I merely nodded, the only thing I could manage at the moment besides coming undone. I bit my finger when he smiled and resumed his task, making me reach the edge.

I tugged on his hair as I came, calling out his name. He nipped at my thighs gently as they trembled before climbing up the bed to hover over me.

For a solid minute or two, he just stared at me. Perhaps he was waiting for me to say something. Perhaps he was waiting for the green light. Or perhaps he was just waiting for me to stop shaking, I dunno. But I swear his gaze was like a magnet. I couldn’t look away.

The eyeliner had begun to smudge a bit from his recent activity. I started to reach up to swipe my thumb underneath his eye when I remembered the condom in my hand. I smiled and raised my brows, offering it to him.

“You still want me, baby?” he asked, taking it from me.

“What did I say?”

“Just making sure.”

Harry uncertainty was definitely something I was not used to, but as I watched him roll the condom on, I wondered if it wasn’t a put-on. He was nothing if not confident.

Situating himself, he kissed me once more before looking into my eyes.

“I always want you too, Alyssa,” he murmured.

Then before I could respond, he entered me fully. I gasped a tiny breath when I realised how deep he was so quickly. Then exhaling through my nose, I wrapped my legs around him.

“Mmm, I love when you do that,” he said.

I couldn’t help but giggle, knowing that was definitely something he liked, and I liked pleasing him. We moved together, a slow, steady rhythm at first. I could already feel my core reacting, my most sensitive spots throbbing.

He lifted his head again and I watched his face, his eyes burning into mine as he began to move faster. I had to unravel my legs from him, lifting my knees to give him more room for thrusts. Then with a groan, he sat back and held my hips as he fucked me hard. I bit my lip to keep my moans at bay, but I couldn’t help it. Dropping my arms beside my head, I cursed and called his name.

“Yeah, baby,” he growled. “So good, innit?”

“Fuck, yes.”

He slowed down then, a low chuckle releasing from his throat. “C’mere.”

I looked at him in wonder as he guided me up and onto his lap. I noticed then that he was perspiring, beads of sweat dripping on his forehead. This time I did reach to wipe them off, but instead Harry took my hands and kissed the backs of them.

“You’re amazing, Alyssa, you know that?”

I beamed at him as I slowly began to ride him.

“You want me, Harry?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck as his gorgeous green eyes looked up at me, the makeup starting to run down one cheek. I didn’t want to wipe it away this time. He looked so sexy.

“Always,” he replied.

I licked my lips and kissed him hard, my tongue wrestling with his. His hands covered my breasts while my hips moved gingerly. Then breaking the kiss, I rode him faster, bouncing on his lap.

“Oh, Jesus,” he moaned as he moved his hands to my hips for leverage.

“Is that good?” I asked him, just like he’d asked me earlier.

“Fuck yeah, baby, you drive me crazy.”

I watched his face, knowing he was close to unraveling. He let out a few expletives as his fingers dug into my flesh.

“Come for me, baby,” I urged. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to watch him, and just the thought of it made me drip with delight.

“You first,” he shook his head.

I wanted to argue that I already had, and that was enough. But I knew he’d just argue back. This goddamn boy. He was going to make me fall for him, wasn’t he?

I slowed down my pace, only slightly as I needed to rejuvenate. My breaths evening out and heartbeat slowing, I kissed him again. Our lips still locked, Harry grabbed my waist and laid me back on the bed again. Then he lifted my leg and pounded me hard.

“Fuck, Harry!” I screamed.

“Wrap your legs around me, love,” he requested.

I came immediately, the sensation of him deep inside and the sounds of his moans tipping me over the edge. My body trembled beneath his as his breaths quickened in my ear.

“Baby…” he groaned. “Oh, Alyssa.”

The sounds he made as he came were indescribable. This wasn’t our first shag. But it was definitely our first something else.

I lay spent on the dampened sheets, wishing I’d remembered to turn on the fan. Sticky with sweat, Harry rolled off of me, discarded the condom into the nearby bin and laid on his back breathing hard. We stayed like that for a while in silence until Harry surprised me again.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said for the...how many times? I turned my head to look at him, but his gaze was on the ceiling, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text just to let you know I was thinking of you. Because I was.”

My breath caught in my throat but I managed to clear it. “You were?”

“‘Course.” He turned onto his side to face me. His lips were so close to mine if either of us moved only slightly, they would touch.

“How was I supposed to know that, Harry?” I asked just above a whisper. 

Shaking his head, he seemed to consider my question. “I reckon you weren’t. I’m sorry.”

I bit my lip as he leant his forehead against mine and swung his arm across my waist. He hummed softly as though he had a song in his head.

“I wish I’d rung you to talk about your day. To ask about work or your mum. To hear about your adorable succulents.”

His last comment made me smile. “To be fair, you did text me Wednesday. So not quite two weeks.”

“Fucking Wednesday. Jesus, Alyssa,” he sighed. “And a text. How the fuck am I to expect us to be okay when I bloody text you on a Wednesday?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Are we okay? Because you kind of have me worried now.”

“Yeah, if I haven’t already fucked it up,” he groaned.

“Harry…I never said you fucked it up. I’m still here. I still came to your show. I showed up and waited at the bar like you asked me to.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Did I really seem different tonight?” I asked.

“Not...well, kinda. You just...didn’t seem like yourself, that’s all.”

“Well then, I apologise, because I thought I was the same as I’ve always been - the same as you want.”

“What I want?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Well, Harry…” I hesitated. “We’ve never really discussed what we want from each other. But I assumed you didn’t want anything serious. We’re like...friends with benefits I reckon.”

“No, we’re not,” he stated.

My jaw dropped as I glared at him.

“I don’t want you to be..." he added.

“What?”

“Baby, I don’t want you to be just a friend with benefits. I want...this.” Harry gestured between us.

“This?”

“Us. You and I. Or, um...you and me, whatever.”

I could feel my heart beating in my chest, and I was sure it was so loud he could hear it. “Seriously?”

Harry nodded, his hand sliding underneath my jaw. “I want you, baby.”

I sighed, tears starting to form in my eyes. Blinking fast, I swallowed hard. “What brought this on?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you. I don’t mean just sex. I want you, for real. I was gutted when I thought something had changed between us, but then I realised it was my own fucking fault.”

“I don’t...know what to say, Harry.”

“Say you want me too. You and I.”

I smiled as I reached for him, kissing him tenderly and eagerly. “Always.”

Harry’s dimples appeared in his cheeks as he beamed at me. I couldn’t help it. I started giggling.

“Oh love,” I sighed. “Please tell me you’ll continue to do the eyeliner thing. I’m with Bruno. You look sexy AF.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Truth? You look completely fucked. And I love that it was with me. Only makes me want you more.”

“Well, in that case,” he murmured low, pulling my leg across his, “I’ll wear it from now on.”

“Just so I know it’s for me, and not your groupies.”

Harry snorted. “Or Bruno?”

“Eh, I don’t mind so much about Bruno. He’s on my side.”

Harry laughed harder before kissing me across my cheek and down my neck.

“You really are amazing, Alyssa,” he whispered in my ear. “Now...tell me about your succulents.”

“Well Prince is the newest, like I said,” I began, Harry’s mouth continuing its trail down my neck and shoulder. “Mick and Freddie were my first two and they’re still going strong. But Bowie is a bit temperamental…”

Hope you enjoyed!

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[katuschka]

Olalla Chapter Eight

Josh Kiszka x f!OC x Jake Kiszka

9.300 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): alcohol consumption, cigarettes, kissing, vaginal sex, allusions to rough sex, jealousy, betrayal, language, loss of an unborn child, trauma, angst, talking about death

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Previous chapter Olalla masterpost

If there's a possibility Today, you'd stay with me I would stop and start anew If I jump, would you jump too? If you want it Let it go

Agnieszka, Zakopane, Saturday

The fog was so thick that day that it made it impossible to see for more than a few metres ahead, and yet I spent nearly two hours standing behind the fence, wrapped just in my sheer black cardigan, looking out for them. 

They were late. It was to be expected, considering both the weather and the traffic that day, but it still made me nervous and the feeling only kept growing with each passing minute. Jake had texted me, so I knew they left Krakow shortly after lunch. It was now almost 3 pm and still no sight of them. Each and every passing car made my heart jump and skip a beat. Hearing footsteps behind me, I tried to appear outwardly calm, but dad still noticed my agitation.

“Come inside, Neszka, or else you’ll catch a cold. You’re shivering.”

I had a secret ally in dad. When I told my parents that Joshua and his brother Jake were coming back, mother just rolled her eyes and mumbled something about “madness in this house”. But dad, he smiled knowingly and patted me on the shoulder, just like now. He knew this meant a lot, because I was wearing a flowy dress in the dreary weather. I must have looked completely deranged, standing there in just my flip flops and shuffling around on my toes. Like one of those crazy young wenches from folk songs, although I was no longer that young, which only made it worse. But he understood. 

“I’m fine. Any minute now,” I mumbled, looking towards the sharp bend on the road once again. Doing that, I felt like a young girl once again. I indeed was shivering, but with anticipation. At the same time, I was dreading the moment of their arrival. I didn’t know what to expect. 

He disappeared inside the house, only to reemerge a minute later with a hip flash. I laughed nervously when he handed it to me: “For the nerves.”

“Is it that obvious?” 

He just smiled. I took a healthy swig without hesitation. And because I hadn’t eaten much that day, the effect was immediate. I could feel the wave of warmth spreading at the back of my head as well as between my legs. However, even the sudden lightheadedness couldn’t prevent my heart from starting to flutter in my throat as soon as I saw the car that was here just two days ago. 

We quickly opened the gate and I still clung to it as my dad motioned to them to drive inside, shoving them their designated parking spot. 

Our eyes met briefly when the car passed me on the gravel driveway. The sight of him and the look in his eyes made my stomach drop again. What if this was a mistake? What if he didn’t want to come and this was yet another bad decision we had made… I bit my lip and closed the gate slowly, when I heard dad already greeting them in his own, enthusiastic style. “Zapraszamy! Zapraszamy ponownie. Come!” That brought me back from my reverie very quickly. Jake was the first one to get out of the car, and was now shaking hands with my dad, obviously taken aback by the sudden flood of words and not understanding a single one. Both amused and terrified at the same time, I quickly scuttled towards them. “Dad, slow down! You’re scaring them. Sorry, Jake, I…” 

“Veela, hi!” He pulled me into an embrace with a smile. I genuinely shivered this time. He pulled away and placed the back of his hand on my cheek, frowning. “Uh, you’re cold, babe! Have you been waiting here the whole time? Sorry we’re late. I should have texted. I just…”

“...got us lost three times because he always took a wrong turn on the fucking roundabout.” 

Before I could fully process the “babe”, my head snapped towards the source of that familiar honey voice and now I watched them – even more flabbergasted – flipping each other off. Joshua shot my dad a meek apologetic smile before his eyes finally met mine. “Hello, Olalla,” he almost whispered. 

No warm embraces, no happy reunions. This is why I dreaded their arrival, because I feared it would be like that. What now? He kept standing there, with his hands in his pockets and that unreadable expression on his face again. We couldn’t act like two strangers. That was unbearable. I mustered all my courage and went around the car to greet him properly. I could see what Jake had meant. He looked different, and really not very well. His hair was significantly shortened, probably because of the shaved patch around the scar behind his left ear that went well beyond his previously trimmed sidecuts. There was no point in keeping the long braid, and he was left with a messy turf of dishevelled short curls at the top of his head. 

But that wasn’t the biggest difference. He could be completely bald and I wouldn’t notice as long as the familiar frisky light shone through his beautiful eyes. But it was gone. He was also significantly thinner than the last time I saw him. His pale, slightly hollowed cheeks and the dark circles below his eyes made me feel suddenly mournful for the lively boy that got lost somewhere and I wanted to do anything I could to bring him back. “Are you hungry?”

No, I couldn’t think of anything better to say at that moment. Would you?

“No, not really.” He tried to smile and took my hands in his, and we just stood there like a young, awkward couple being forced to dance. I kept looking at him, as if hypnotized, searching for any sign that would tell me he wanted to be here. But once again, he just kept stroking my knuckles. “He’s right. Your hands are cold. Silly girl…”

“Come on Josh, let’s get inside. It’s drizzling.” It was Jake, ending our ‘little moment’ abruptly with a sharp tone of his voice. “And yes, he’s hungry. Mrs. Sikorska made us dinner and you’re gonna eat it, fucker!”

My mom indeed did. She might not have been happy with the whole situation, but she always relished in any opportunity to feed anyone. So, after they unpacked and got comfortable, we met downstairs for a feast, because that’s what it was, for the lack of a better word. 

“Do you greet everyone like that?” Jake asked me, obviously amused. 

“Oh no, absolutely not…just relatives, friends, friends of friends, most of the neighbours and stray rockstars,” I replied, slightly embarrassed, but encouraged by his warm smile.

I think that was the first time I heard his genuine, heartfelt laughter. 

Jake was really a sweetheart. He kept thanking profusely for everything, making my mom grin from ear to ear. I could tell she liked him, even though he was maybe a bit too bohemian-looking for her taste. It was obvious he knew how to win a woman’s heart, and not even a language barrier could stop him from doing his magic. It was amusing to observe their interaction. It was also clear that he was a natural. And sincere. When he took a bite of a strawberry pierogi, his eyes widened with delight. “Josh! We loved these! Remember?” It was met only with a soft “hm”. 

We shared a few worried glances, me and Jake. A few with my dad, too. Joshua noticed, but he chose to ignore it, just as much as all our attempts to cheer him up.

He ate at least half of his portions and really tried to be polite, but he just seemed distant. His smiles were forced and never reached his eyes. It was heartbreaking to watch, because that was not the man I got to know. He didn’t say much during the whole time. But to be fair, he was giving the same silent treatment to Jake. So, it ended up with me and Jake talking about roundabouts and tilt-turn windows and other things that baffled him, until my dad completely hijacked the evening.

At one point he disappeared in the cellar and came back with a bottle of juniper brandy, pouring everyone a shot. Everyone except Joshua, because of his pain meds. He insisted that he wanted to hear more about the band, and while I tried to stop him, trying to argue that it wasn’t the best time, that they were probably exhausted, Jake insisted that it was completely ok.  At first they forced me to be their interpreter, which proved to be completely unnecessary after a few more shots. In the meantime, Joshua just kept sitting there, looking sullen and weary, trying to smile every now and then, but not really participating. 

 In my slightly inebriated state, I turned to Jake and whispered to him that we should maybe call it a night. 

“He’s fine,” he hissed back. “And he needs company. Been buried in that hotel room for too long.” I didn’t argue, but I had a nagging feeling that he was talking more about himself. 

So, while Jake and my dad kept working on mastering their secret, cringy sign language, I finally mustered enough courage to slide my hand across the table hesitantly. To my relief, he took it, enveloping my fingers in his clammy palm. I noticed Jake side-eyeing us warily.

Joshua paid it no mind. He rested his head on his other hand and smiled lightly. “So, how are you?”

“Fantastic,” I lied and reciprocated the smile. The mixture of feelings clouding my brain felt far from ‘fantastic’, but I was just happy to be close to him again, even though it was painful to see him broken like that. 

“Em sorry for this,” I motioned towards the other two. “You must be tired. And bored.”

“No, I’m fine. I say stupid and mean shit when I’m drunk. Don’t you?!” His grip on my hand tightened while he looked up and bore his mournful eyes into mine, and it felt like a whip slash across my cheek. I was left speechless, completely taken aback… Yes,...yes, I did.

I…Joshua, Em…”

“Let’s talk about it when you’re sober.” 

Next to me, I heard Jake clear this throat. “It’s late. Maybe I should take Josh to his room. He needs to rest.”

“For fuck’s sake, Jake! Stop talking about me as if I wasn’t even here. I’m not a toddler.” His voice resonated through the room and all eyes turned to him.  

“Then stop behaving like one!” Jake spat, but his features immediately softened when Joshua clutched his forehead, clearly in pain. He stood up and patted his brother on the shoulder, while casting me an apologetic smile at the same time. “C’mon Josh, let’s go upstairs. You really need to get some rest. Sorry.” 

I needed a cigarette. Desperately. I hadn’t had one in years, but I just couldn’t help it. Unable to drive in my intoxicated state, and still in my dress and flip flops, I walked all the way to the nearest gas station to get a pack.

Like a madwoman. 

My bare shins felt completely wet after a while in the drizzle. So did my cheeks. There’s something eerily calming about foggy, early autumn evenings. The weather is still mild enough to allow for long whimsical walks, with the spectral atmosphere of dying nature that makes you turn your attention inwards. The muddle inside my head desperately needed some introspective cleanup. 

And nicotine. 

I wholeheartedly enjoyed the way my head was spinning. Drunk in love. What a nauseating feeling. When you’re still quite cheerful, but you already know you’ve had too much. 

Was I cheerful? I shouldn’t have been. But I couldn’t help it. He was here. 

Acting like… a jerk? 

Wasn’t his fault. And my god! He was still so fucking beautiful! I needed him to stay that way. It was now my mission to make him better. 

The sky was clearing while I was on my way back and a few stars blinked through the dissipating clouds. Surely a sign, huh? The cool air sobered me up a bit and I wanted to stay outside just a little bit longer. 

Back home, I opted for the garden bench swing. Curling up under a blanket I grabbed on my way there, I finally lit my much-desired cig. A couple inhales later, I could feel that familiar sense of calm spreading throughout my whole being. I closed my eyes and swung one leg down to ground myself, because my head was still spinning a bit. 

“It’s cold.” 

I opened one eye tentatively. It was Jake. Having been lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t hear his footsteps on the overgrown damp grass. I looked up, expecting him to continue, but that was it. Jake was a man of a few words. I chuckled when I saw him: Just him standing next to the bench swing, looking around the garden and me wondering if he was able to see anything at all because of the sunglasses, in spite of the overcast and the fact that it was already almost dark. I think he understood the meaning behind my amused smile, because he finally took them off sheepishly. 

“Yeah…yeah, it is, I think…” I replied at last. “But I hope you’re not here to talk about the weather. I was made for more sopsh..tikated discourse,” I said smugly. 

Yes, I was still a bit drunk.  

He gave me a Mona Lisa smile and made a simple gesture with his hand, asking me without words if he could sit next to me. I nodded and shifted a bit to make more room for him. I also offered him a cigarette, which he accepted. 

“Yeah, I can see that. I mean, aren’t you?”

“Cold? No…we Gorale are used to cold weather. This is nothing but a cool evening breeze,” I sighed contentedly with a lazy smile, letting the said breeze swipe across my heated face again. It was true. We never got lulled by hot summer days, knowing too well how fickle the weather could be. Just like the human mind. Or our fate. You want to survive? Well, better brace yourself. I had tried, and obviously failed, but I was determined to try again. 

The truth was that both my feet and hands were already ice cold, but he didn’t need to know that. 

“So you’re basically highlanders.”

“We’re literally highlanders. That’s what the word means.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“For not knowing Polish?”

“For his behavior.” 

That sobered me immediately. It was exactly the topic my hazy mind had been trying to avoid. I glanced instinctively towards his roof window, but it was completely dark. Not even a bedside lamp was switched on, apparently. “Is he sleeping already?” Jake followed my gaze. 

“Yeah, probably…or maybe just lying in the dark, I don’t know. I hope you’ve not sad.”

“Sad? No…no, I’m not sad…I think? I’m definitely not shocked. It’s definitely how I feared it would be. He…It just feels like he’s not happy to see me. Like he’s even mad at me, maybe.”

“No…don’t believe it for one second. If he’s mad at anyone, it’s me…and himself.” He paused to light his own cigarette and exhaled a puff of smoke in the air above us before he continued. “His face lit up when I told him we were coming back here. It was short-lived, replaced by that sullen stare very quickly, but make no mistake. He’s happy to be here. He’s just scared.”

“Scared? Of me?” 

“Um, no, not really…maybe a bit…but…Is there something you’re scared of losing, because it would mean you’d lose an essential part of yourself?”

His question made me smile. Of course there is. I motioned towards the southern skyline where the outline of Giewont was still visible in the semi-darkness. “Home. This. I mean, not just the rocks and the trees. The place, my family, being able to take care of other people...it’s hard to explain. It’s the peace of mind. Away from the world’s troubles. I studied tourism in Krakow; most of my former schoolmates secured cool and fancy jobs for themselves. Even here in Zakopane, I could pretty easily be a manager of one of those luxurious new hotels, but I chose to return back here deliberately,” I motioned towards the house. “We care, you know? About one another, about the place, about other people who want to experience it. I think that if it weren’t for this place, I’d probably be a social worker or something. It’s just something I need to keep doing. It’s what my grandma taught me. People need people.” 

Jake smiled softly but didn’t look at me. He just nodded, partly lost in his own thoughts. “You’d be the prettiest social worker I’ve ever met. Not that I’ve met many social workers. Not really my social bubble…,” He chuckled when I punched his shoulder. 

“Jake! I’m serious! But thank you…”

“I know. Sorry. It’s just…that last line sounded eerily familiar, so I just wanted to lighten the mood. Err, anyway,” he cleared his throat: “For me, it’s the playing. Sometimes I feel like it’s the only thing I’m good at…and I almost lost it before I even started. See?” Holding the cig in between his pouty lips, he rolled up his sleeve to show me a long scar on his left forearm. 

“Wow, that’s an impressive scar!” I may have sounded a bit too overzealous, because he turned his head at me, his eyes open wide. He was still smiling, though. 

“Impressive, you say?!”

“Yeah, sorry,” I laughed. “It’s just something boys at school would say back when I was little. Like a badge of courage, or something like that. They would brag about it.” We laughed together. 

“Yeah, it’s bitchin’, isn’t it,” he chuckled while examining it one more time before his face sobered. “Back then, I didn’t feel that way. I broke my arm in middle school. It was nasty and I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to play the guitar again. I played it cool, didn’t really want anyone to see what was going on inside my head, but later, in the middle of the night, I just couldn’t take it anymore, and I kept weeping and sobbing in my bed until late at night…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“No, there’s more to it. What I really wanted to say is that…we shared a room, me and Josh and our younger brother Sam. So, I was just lying there and crying and letting it all out, you know, because I thought the other two were fast asleep. And then I felt my bed shift. He snuggled closer and wrapped his arms around me and whispered in my ear that everything would be ok. It took a while until I calmed down, but he was there for me the whole time, repeating that it would be fine, that I would be able to play again. And I believed him. The fact is that the injury allowed me to play even better eventually, and to this day I think it was all Josh’s doing. Because, that’s who he is. He wants to fix people. His heart just overflows with love and it’s his life mission to share it. And lately, he’s been thinking that he’s just damaged everything and everyone. And that scares him.”

The temperature dropped during the time we sat there and I felt it deep inside my bones. But it was a different kind of chill. The cold air may have made my cheeks prickle, but the tightness I felt around my stomach and my heart had nothing to do with it. I swallowed hard and asked the question that’s been bothering me ever since that moment in the dining room. “Does he remember what happened right before the injury?”

“I don’t know. Bits and pieces. Most of what he told me was before you arrived at the hospital. He said you two had some argument and then you went looking for him, obviously. Why? Is there something more?”

I could feel tears welling in my eyes again, so I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath to prevent it from happening, but he already noticed. His hand on my shoulder internally startled me, but I didn’t wince. I really needed some form of human contact. 

“We actually had a big fight the night before the storm. I’m sure he remembers that. Whatever had been between us, I basically ended it, and he was about to leave early. I think he already had a plane ticket when he went on that one last hike.” I thought I would start crying again but instead, a strange sense of calmness enveloped my whole being, as if it was something that was finally over. I felt different. 

“You need to understand how I used to be. I wouldn’t say no to a pretty guy, to put it diplomatically. It was just my perverted way of dealing with a previous heartbreak and it never meant anything. I was engaged once, but then…but then I just had acquaintances, but no boyfriends. At first I thought he was yet another visitor that could make another day more palatable, but then something changed. I really liked him, you know, and I didn’t want to. Part of me kept refusing him, but another part kept being drawn to him. The more insufferable I was about that, the more relentless he seemed in his own endeavours. Even after I learned that he liked guys. Even then he made me feel beautiful and wanted me to feel love...if you know what I mean.”

He kept listening without interrupting me, only nodding from time to time, or reaching out for yet another cigarette. It was obvious that we would finish the box pretty soon. Only when I got to this part of the story, he finally spoke.

“Yeah, I suppose I know what you mean…and then?” he asked softly and let out another plume of smoke, before he held the lighter for me to light another one of mine.  “...and then I learned the whole story and I suddenly felt like he never meant it. I felt used…which was very ironic, as my own sister reminded me very soon after that. Anyway, I said some mean things to him…”

Jake huffed through his nose, nodding his head. “Yeah, he remembers this. Listen, I can’t blame you. I mean… He’s not perfect. But I don’t wanna judge him, because, honestly, I’m way worse…” I wanted to speak up, but he made a dismissive gesture with his hand and continued. “I really wanted them to get together again, you know, him and Christopher, but I guess sometimes things are beyond repair...” 

“Jake…” 

“But if – at the end of the day – you feel like you’re past it, just let him know how you feel, because...”

“JAKE!”

“I’m long past it. I wanted to tell him the very next day, but then the storm hit and he didn’t come back. That’s why I was asking if he remembers anything that happened right before the injury, because I told him up there… At first I said that when he was already sleeping, like a coward. And then I said it again and again while we were waiting for help, but he was drifting in and out of consciousness. But there are things I didn’t tell him, and now I think he really should know.”

“Such as?”

“He really did fix me. If that was his goal, it was successful. I may be heartbroken, but I’m different. I simply can’t believe he managed to do that in a week! Others have been trying for years. I know it sounds absolutely crazy. He shouldn’t leave without knowing.” 

“Hey, veela, listen…” 

A sudden gust of wind interrupted our little talk and I shivered violently. “Ok, I guess that’s enough. Let’s go inside,” he basically ordered. “It’s late anyway.” 

“I’m not tired yet,” I protested as he was literally pushing me inside, and I yawned immediately after, which made me giggle and hiccough. 

“Oh, Jesus,” he laughed. “I can see why he likes you.” 

We continued the little banter all the way up to my door. “But I have one more question!”

Jake rolled his eyes exasperatedly.”Yeah?”

 “You said you’re way worse,” I giggled again. “I hope you don’t mind me asking what you meant by that. I’m in the mood for some rock&roll gossip as my bedtime story.” My old nosy self was back at it again. But just like Joshua, he didn’t seem to mind, although Jake was generally way more curt.

“Nothing interesting, I’m afraid. Just me being an ‘asshole who was never around.’ It never made the headlines,” he chuckled sarcastically, but quickly recovered himself when he saw my frown. “Sorry. I mean, me being ‘way worse’ means that sometimes I’m being mean on purpose. You were on the receiving end too, so you should know. Goodnight, veela,” he squeezed my shoulder again with a sigh before he disappeared upstairs. I shivered again.

In spite of certain things that had happened, namely the havoc Bartek had caused previously, our place was still relatively safe and secluded, offering much more privacy than a hotel room in Krakow. The media storm that followed the accusation was not yet over, but they were pretty much out of the wind here, so to speak. We could keep them safe, so that me and Jake could focus solely on Joshua’s recovery. And we did. I made sure of that. 

Jake told me that he spent a lot of time on the phone, talking to their lawyers during their stay in Krakow. The photos David previously posted on his public accounts were a very strong evidence against his latter claims, but Jake just wanted to settle to make it all go away as quickly as possible. 

The two of them spent most of the time outdoors, as fresh air and plenty of light exercise was essential for Joshua’s speedy recovery, and Jake was positive that enough time spent in nature would help to heal his mind as well. I joined them whenever I could. We wandered through the woods and climbed the lower hills. Sometimes, I could sense that Joshua started to feel uneasy when we wandered to higher altitudes, so I quickly changed the route or made us turn back, even though we never got past the tree line. Sometimes we just took a walk around the town, eating donuts or grilled cheese with cranberry jam. 

We spent a lot of time talking, me and Jake. I learned a lot more about the band and I told him embarrassing stories from my college years. Joshua rarely joined the conversation. He was a few steps ahead of us most of the time, lost in his own thoughts or just looking around, or both. A few times he took his camera with him and spent the whole time taking pictures. Once I squatted by the side of the path to observe a tiny snail on a mushroom, until the sound of a shutter startled me and when I looked up, I saw him pointing his lens at me. He turned away quickly and took another picture of the landscape. 

Once he lent me the camera so that I could take a snap of the two of them by the stream. ‘For mom,’ as they said. It was almost like a vacation. Almost…

My mom started calling them Kuba and Jozko, much to their amusement and my dismay. Gradually, she grew fond of them. Well, at least one of them.

Joshua kept driving her crazy though. He ate only half of what she prepared for them, even though I had warned her about the meat. She was stubborn though, convinced that she could ‘talk sense into him’...and failed every time. 

It was different with Jake. He had her wrapped around his finger pretty soon. It was partly because he often insisted on helping us in the kitchen. She wasn’t having it at first, because “her kitchen wasn’t a place for men”, let alone our guests, but once she learned that he in fact could cook, she let him do whatever he wanted. 

“The dark one is handsome,” she said once when we were washing the dishes. 

“Mom, they look the same.”

A high pitched “Eh…” was all she said and I resumed scrubbing the pot. 

“But I really wonder what you’re trying to achieve here,” she continued after a while. 

“They’re paying customers, aren’t they. Everything else is my business, and not your concern.”

“Eh…” she scoffed again. “But don’t expect me to scrape you off the floor again.” 

On the fifth day, we finally made him laugh. 

We went out for dinner for a change, and I chose one of the pubs with live music. At one point, Jake persuaded me to dance, even though there wasn’t enough room and everyone was looking at us. Joshua was watching us with a wide grin on his face. 

“Jake, look!” I gestured towards the table, grinning myself and completely out of breath. 

“Ready for one more dance?”

“I don’t know, maybe…” Before I could react, Jake was already by the table, drumming on the lacquered wood with his fingertips. “C’mon, big bro, chop chop!”

He needed some persuading, but at last, I found myself in Joshua’s arms again, bathing in his radiant smile. 

It was getting better. 

The mood changed completely and as the evening proceeded, I watched with delight as the two of them were making jokes and teasing each other. Sometimes I tried to chime in, but I was no match for the two of them.

And then it happened. Joshua was cackling like a little child, and he couldn’t stop. It was contagious and I soon joined in. He grabbed my shoulder to steady himself, and buried his face in my neck, nuzzling his nose against my skin. I froze. It was pleasant, more than pleasant actually, but it left me stunned. Jake’s own smile slowly turned to a melancholy stare. I watched him across the table, waiting for him to break eye contact or smile again, but he never did. He just kept watching me until Joshua finally recovered and straightened up. Only then he averted his gaze. While Joshua got back a portion of his glowing personality back, Jake remained in this strange, broody state of mind until we got back home. 

I still had some work to do in the kitchen that evening, because my dining outside didn’t save me from my regular duties, while the guys went back to their rooms. Mom tolerated my frequent absence during their stay only as long as the work was done. I was heading back to my private flat when I heard some strumming coming from the common room. It was a beautiful, plaintive melody. Our guests sometimes used the room for singing and playing various instruments, but this was different. Intimate and almost ethereal. Drawn by curiosity, I hesitantly entered. 

It was Jake, sitting on a fur-covered bench by the electric fireplace. I recognized the guitar immediately. For years, it stood propped up against the wall just behind the corner, collecting dust. 

Jake acknowledged my presence by the doorway and motioned to me to come and sit next to him. He didn’t stop playing until he finished playing the whole song, and I just sat there with my hands in my lap awkwardly. I felt like an intruder, but then he smiled and bowed his head, like a true entertainer. 

“It’s a truly beautiful melody… very mournful.”

“Yeah, I wrote it this spring on one particularly mournful morning. It’s called Lulu’s Lullaby.”

I always admired artists and their ability to transform life into unfiltered beauty. If it comes from the heart, there’s always a story behind it, and I’ve always found it intriguing. “I would say that this Lulu is a lucky girl, but the song doesn't sound happy at all.”

“My imaginary daughter. But I don’t even know if it was a daughter. I just always thought of angels as feminine.” 

It was as if he poured a bucket of ice cold water on me. Sometimes I’m worse than a blunt hammer, really. Speaking before thinking. Of course it couldn’t be about some lucky girl. What was I thinking? “Jake, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be. That’s history. I mean, it's just yet another nice tune now, I suppose. I still play a lot of other songs that are about something which is no longer true or relevant. Anyway,” he cleared his throat and made an attempt to sound a bit more cheerful, before I had a chance to say that something like having happened just a few months ago doesn’t sound like history! And the way he played it… “Those strings are ANCIENT!”

“Yeah…more than six years,” I replied absentmindedly, still shocked. Meanwhile, Jake seemed on a mission to lighten up the mood. He clearly didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“I was almost afraid to tune it. I refuse to wear an eye patch unless it’s a temporary fashion statement. Yours?” he patted the wooden body gently. 

“No, it belonged to my ex-fiancé.” 

“Damn. What got in his head that he left two such beauties here?” he exclaimed dramatically, making me huff. We were even. 

“A stone.” I tried to keep a straight face, secretly horrified by my own tasteless joke as well as the fact that the whole situation suddenly seemed comical to me. But it was just my old personality, with my Monty Python-ish sense of humour, peeking through the musty curtain of doom. It made me realize – with a slight shock – that I was really, finally, completely over it. Dominik was a happy memory. 

Jake looked perplexed.

“Joshua didn’t tell you? He’s dead.” I watched in slow motion how his face changed from confused to horrified. It was now my turn to ease the tension.

“Don’t worry. There’s a reason why the strings are 6 years old. That is history.”

And that was a lie.

“Well…no, truth be told, it was my everyday reality until very recently. But I had a good therapist.” 

“Oh…,” he breathed out as the realization finally hit. 

“He used to teach me to play, though. Dominik, I mean,” I pointed at the guitar. That’s why I kept it. I was never good at it. I always struggled with barre chords. Got cramps after a while.” 

Jake suddenly shifted on the bench and threw one leg over the bench, moving closer to me and handing me the instrument. He was sitting sideways right behind me now. “It’s easy. Lemme show you. You just need to relax this muscle here, and rely more on the thumb. The rest is practice, as these muscles get stronger. Let’s try that.” I took the guitar from his hands hesitantly, too surprised to even protest, and waited for more instructions. 

“So, let’s try the F chord first, whaddaya think?” His chin was almost touching my shoulder now and I could feel the heat emanating from his body. So familiar. He was making me slightly nervous. I tried to focus on the task ahead instead and positioned my fingers to press the said chord, biting my lip in concentration. I tried to play it, but all we got was an unpleasant, rattling sound.

“Oh, I see it now!” He snaked his left arm behind me and wrapped his fingers around my wrist to push my hand gently into a better position. “Relax the pinkie just a bit, you’re too tense. Press again…Yeah, like that. Strum it now.” 

I tried again, and it worked. “Wow,” I laughed, turning my head slightly sideways towards him and froze when our eyes met. He was looking right into me and I could feel his hand move, but instead of withdrawing completely, he rested it on my lower back. “Jake?” I whispered, unable to move. He raised his other hand and brushed his fingertips across my lower lip. They travelled slowly across my cheek until he cupped my jaw and all that time I just sat there and let him move even closer. He closed the gap between us eventually and I gasped softly when our lips touched. It encouraged him to deepen the kiss and I still did nothing to stop him. I was barely aware of him taking the guitar from my hands and putting it on the table next to him. He took my face in his both hands then, and when the tip of his tongue darted tentatively in between my lips, I felt them part and I heard him moan. Only then I consciously made myself stop, startled. I grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away. 

“No,” I whispered. With my mind still trapped in that strange haze, I slowly stood up and turned to leave, as if in a dream. “Please…” he whispered back and grabbed my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. That sobered me up completely.

I turned back and pointed my finger at him frantically. “No! I don’t know what game you’re trying to play now, but just…no!”

“Veela, I…”  

“Stay away from me! Are you testing me, or what? Oh god, you’re such an asshole.” I stormed out of the room, shaking, and angry, and confused, and sad, and I don’t know what else. I just didn’t know how to interpret it.  

I, however, knew exactly what I wanted. It ignited something in me and the idea of spending yet another night alone in my bed, lost within my thoughts, scared me. Without really thinking, I found myself climbing the attic stairs. It was a basic human need. Just like thirst, equally unbearable. I had been pining for him for so long, and he was just within reach again. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I needed to feel him again. Everything else be damned. 

I knocked first, and a feeble “come in, it’s not locked” followed. I slowly pushed the door handle down and tentatively entered the room, only to find it shrouded in complete darkness.The light from the hall illuminated the outline of his body on the bed. He was lying on his back under the blanket, with his eyes staring fixedly at the ceiling. He turned his face towards me and watched me - or rather my silhouette - in the door frame for a while, surprise evident on his face. I realized he expected it to be Jake. “Joshua? Did I wake you?”

“No, no, I’m just resting. Please, come in,” he repeated softly and turned towards me, resting himself on one elbow. I closed the door behind me, shrouding us in near darkness again, and tiptoed towards his bed. 

“Is me being here ok?” I whispered. 

“Yes. Yes, completely ok. Please, darling, sit.” He patted the mattress right next to him, and I did, placing my hand on the blanket next to his. 

“I needed to be with you.”

I heard him swallow harshly. “I needed to be with you, too. I’m glad you’re here, Olalla.” He placed his hand on top of mine, stroking it gently. 

“Can I join you?” My question was met with silence. I almost lost all my remaining courage and wanted to go back, when he finally spoke. 

“I’m naked.” 

I didn’t know why…or rather, I knew very well why…my heart started beating wildly. “Even better,” I tittered, though it sounded more like a sob. I felt his body shift and he lifted the blanket, inviting me in. I shed my slippers quickly and slid next to him, with my arms folded. I didn’t dare touch him yet. “Hey,” I whispered. 

As my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, I could now see the prominent features of his face. “Hi,” he breathed out and smiled, and his fingertips traced the outline of my left cheek. “I think you should take off your clothes. This is not fair, you know.” I felt his hot breath on my face and I closed my eyes as his hand slid under the blanket. He stroked my arm all the way from my shoulder to my bent elbow, and then continued further down until he reached the hem of my shirt and slid his fingers under. I gasped when he touched my bare skin, and as if on cue, his lips brushed delicately against mine. “You do it,” I whimpered and he kissed me in earnest, making my heart pound against my ribcage.

“I was afraid you’d never come,” he whispered against the flushed skin of my cheek when our lips finally parted. After he pulled my shirt over my head, he struggled with my legging in the darkness, making us both giggle. Completely naked at last, I pulled the blanket over us again. 

“I didn’t know you wanted me…” My fingers slid down the hot skin of his abdomen and grabbed his already hard dick, making his whole body twitch.

“Silly girl,” he moaned as his hand slid across my back and he pulled me closer to him. For a while, we just lay there kissing and caressing each other, savouring the moment. I needed more. I needed him inside me again. Pushing him on his back, I straddled him and slid a hand between us, making him gasp. I positioned myself quickly and slid the tip of his dick inside. His back arched and his mouth opened in a silent scream. I crashed back onto him and attacked his neck with my lips ferociously just as he pushed his length inside with one swift thrust, fighting for dominance.. “No, baby, it’s my turn,” I steadied him and pushed my knees forward for better leverage. “Keep still and let me play.”

“Naaah,” he gasped as I started moving. “No, I won’t.” He tried to thrust in me again, disrupting my rhythm. 

“Yes, you will,” I groaned as I grabbed his shoulders and straightened myself up. “You’re my patient, after all, remember?” I rolled my hips playfully and he yelped. “My wounded baby,” I did it again. I loved listening to his moans. “My poor little thing,” and again…

I underestimated him. Thinner than before, he still had enough strength in him, especially when my teasing made his body pump adrenaline into his system. He pushed my right knee back, grabbed my hips and turned us over in one swift motion, accentuating his point with a sensual deep thrust. “I need to do this, darling. Don’t argue.” I couldn’t even if I wanted to, because he silenced me with his tongue. I felt the pleasure take over every particle in my body and I surrendered to him completely. We melted into each other once again. 

They say that you can find the truth at the bottom of the bottle of wine. Likewise, I think that postcoital phases are the best time for telling that truth. There’s something magical about just resting next to someone who just made love to you. 

“Joshua?”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t fail to give me love.” I groped in the darkness in search of his hand, and took it in mine when I found it. “I wanted you to know that. You gave me more than plenty. In fact, you gave me so much love that it scared me. I didn’t expect it. I behaved the way I did because I was afraid to accept that gift. But you already know that, and you fought that stubborn and stupid creature in me selflessly.” I heard him exhale heavily and he squeezed my fingers in acknowledgement. “What you do not know is that you made me love you. That’s another thing I want you to know. I didn’t want it to end like that, but I cherish that feeling now, and I don’t exp…”

I felt him shift next to me quite abruptly and before I could finish the sentence, the fingers of his other hand found my flushed cheek. He turned my face to him and silenced me with a heated kiss. 

I didn’t want him to ever stop. We just fucked a moment ago, but the feeling of his plump lips playing with mine was making me lose my mind even more than the orgasms he gave me. When he finally broke the kiss, I felt mournful, but only for a split second. Only until he spoke. “Don’t you ever say that you don’t expect anything, because you deserve everything! I love you too.” 

He loved me. 

I weeped while he stroked my hair. 

We didn’t get much sleep that night. I was beginning to see a pattern. While he was quite romantic and sensuous in bed, when we got in the shower it was as if the devil himself got into him and I only prayed that I wouldn’t have any bruises the next day. Back in the sheets and completely exhausted, we finally dozed off. 

I woke up long before dawn, soon enough to be able to prepare an early breakfast for those who ordered it the day before. Praising my internal clock, I kissed the top of Joshua’s head and slowly tried to drag my sore body out of bed, only to be pulled back by two grabby hands.

“Do you really have to?” he mumbled, while nuzzling the nape of my neck. 

“You know I do. But tell you what...I’ll bake you an apple pie for breakfast, hm?”

“The one with whose sugary crumbs on top?” I nodded and he finally released me, disappearing under the blanket again.  

I quietly creeped out of the door, expecting the house to be dark and empty, but there was a sliver of light under Jake’s half-closed door and I heard some rustle in the kitchen below, while a discreet, automatic night light was illuminating the adjacent hall. A moment later, Jake emerged at the foot of the wooden stairs with a cup in his hand, eyeing me warily. He must have heard me too. 

“You’re already awake?” I asked quite unnecessarily. 

“I haven’t slept yet,” he mumbled. “Did you? You look tired.” The sudden venom in his voice made me feel guilty, even though there was absolutely no reason why I should have. “I…”

“Don’t bother, I heard. Those rooms share bathroom walls, you know? Well, of course you know,” he hissed as he was passing me on the narrow staircase.  

“Why are you being such a dick about it? You wanted me to reach out to him.” 

“Yeah, and you reached pretty far. I guess what you needed was just a little nudge.” His face was once again that hard and arrogant mask that I learned to both fear and hate not so long ago, his cold eyes so startlingly similar to that shiny pair I loved so much, yet so different at the same time. 

“Stop this!” I whisper-shouted back, still trying to be as quiet as possible, but unable to control the rage that started bubbling deep inside me. “I did nothing wrong. AND he’s your brother for god’s sake!” 

I hit a nerve. I obviously didn’t matter, but his twin did. His features once again transformed into that broody, melancholic look he had in the pub or while he was playing the song. He looked defeated. “I know. I just can’t sleep and that makes me cranky, so…maybe I should try again to get some sleep so that I'll be less insufferable later. I’m sorry for what I did, veela. Good night.”

“Jake,” I whispered. “Please don’t tell him anything.”

“I’m an asshole, not an idiot.”

“No, you’re neither. I didn’t mean to…” I took a few steps back up towards him, but he stopped me with a dismissive hand gesture. 

“You were right, though,” he said before he disappeared into his room.

During those two following weeks, Joshua spent most nights in my lodgings, where no one would hear us. It was an insane time, and we were both insatiable. I kept swallowing him, he kept devouring me. We fucked like rabbits in my kitchen, we ravaged each other in my bathroom, and we made love in my bed. 

I should have worried about all the possible future consequences of our behaviour, because if I had loved him before, I was now becoming literally obsessed. I couldn’t pass him in the hall without kissing him. We were like two infatuated teenagers, hiding behind every corner, giggling and groping each other. 

Jake went to buy new strings, and came back with a brand new guitar. It was the last time I saw him smile. He spent a lot of time playing it in the garden when the weather was fine, or hidden in the corner of the common room when it was raining. His brother joined him a few times, but as their stay was coming to a close, he mostly kept to himself. 

We pretended the kiss never happened. Not only he never tried to do it again, we hardly ever exchanged more than a few sentences. I missed the friend I got in him. We went back to where we started, being barely civil with each other. Joshua noticed something was wrong, but I think he interpreted it simply as Jake’s disapproval of what we were doing. I guess he wasn’t entirely wrong. 

I felt guilty. Even though I kept telling myself that I had no reason to feel that way, because I did nothing wrong, I felt guilty simply because I decided we wouldn’t tell him anything. It was partly a very selfish decision, but both me and Jake also knew that the consequences would be dire. 

I still kept wondering why he did that. 

…and at the same time I didn’t want to think about it. It made my head hurt. 

But in spite of that I felt so happy for that short while. We walked around town hand in hand quite often. Sometimes he just made me feel brand new. It was like a dream from which you don’t want to wake up. And then you have to. 

Two days before they were supposed to fly back home, we took a walk in the park right before sunset. It was a beautiful cloudless day and the whole northern part of the mountain range was visible from this part of town. 

“I don’t want this to end,” he broke the silence all of the sudden, finally addressing the issue we’d been trying to avoid for a few days. 

And yet it will, I thought. There’s no other option. “There’s really not much we can do about it. And we both knew that. You said it yourself.” 

“No, I don’t believe this. I’m sure there is.”

“Joshua…”

“I’m pretty sure I said that we should live for the present and not worry too much about the future. I’m not going to Mars! We can make this work.”

I smiled mournfully. At least his old, enthusiastic self was back. My work was done. AND this was the ending I had hoped for. Happy memories. Nevertheless, I still asked, simply to listen to him talking. “How?”

“I don’t know. Let’s figure it out. What about Christmas? Let’s…let’s go to Paris!I know, that’s cliche, but…”

“Joshua! I can’t leave during Christmas! It’s the busiest time of the year. Can’t you see? I’m needed here. And your place is elsewhere.”

“Ok, so I will just come back for Christmas.”

“You’re insane. Ok, so Christmas…and what then? Easter? We can’t live like that. Maybe there’s still someone else for both of us.”

“Yeah, maybe, maybe… Listen, let’s make a deal.” He grabbed my shoulders as if trying to talk some sense into me. How ironic. “I will come back for Christmas. Because why not? Seriously. What’s stopping me now?…unless you meet someone in the meantime. Then I won’t.”

“And if you meet someone?”

“Could happen,” he nodded. “I can hardly imagine it right now, but I won’t lie to you by saying that it’s impossible. Anything is possible. That’s kinda my point.” 

He was crazy, and I told him so, but when he asked me to give him one reasonable justification why we shouldn’t do that, I couldn’t think of anything. Everything I had done so far in that past month was done with a complete disregard of any possible future consequences, and it was him who made me behave that way. Ever since our first kiss, or maybe ever since the first time he held my hand. 

We made no sense, and yet we still kept doing this. He told his longtime boyfriend who flew across the world to see him that he indeed did fall in love with a woman at last. At least he thought he did. Reluctantly, I agreed to participate in his insane experiment.

It didn’t make the final goodbye any easier. When the time came, and we hugged goodbye, I couldn’t let go. 

Three months! Almost three months until I would see him again. He promised to call me “EVERY DAY”, and of course, I didn’t believe him for one second. Jake’s amused smirk told me I was right. 

Jake…

The whole time, Jake stood nearby, leaning against the car with his hands in his pockets and his head bowed down, examining the tips of his sneakers. I couldn’t let him leave like this. He was my lover’s twin brother, the closest person one could possibly imagine having in this world, and I kept hoping he would be my friend, too. A lot of things had happened between us, but I’d gotten to know him as a kind and caring soul. I outstretched my arms, ready for a hug. It was brief and awkward.

“Can’t you take off your shades even now?” It was drizzling again. 

“No, I’d rather not,” he replied softly before sharing a quick glance with his brother, who clenched his jaw and turned back towards the house, shuffling his feet on the gravel road. I was about to turn, but he pulled me back in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, before he pulled away while stroking my shoulders. “And thank you for everything.” 

I watched them disappear behind the sharp bend while toying with my malachite necklace, and my heart sank. Three months…

Even though things changed, the recurring dream still kept disrupting my nights. It was changing too. There were the three of us climbing now, and Joshua kept wandering off the stony path…

He was still chasing something. Or someone. Everytime he got out of sight, a surge of panic washed through me. Then he reemerged again eventually, but I felt like I kept losing him. 

“No, please don’t,” I called after him. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I never will,” he said, his voice more like an echo, but there were tears in his eyes, telling me he would. I tried to understand that, tried to accept that, but before I could, a warm glow lightened his face and his eyes grew wide, and I felt the same warmth at the back of my head. I turned around to look at the source and I saw it again: the sun setting in the east. Very strange. But it wasn’t the sun. Terrified by the sight, I screamed and started crying, mad with worry and grief. We didn’t deserve this. Nimble fingers grabbed my sides and tried to pull me back. “Come, my love,” he shouted…

@thewritingbeforesunrise @fleet-of-fiction @writingcold @lvnterninthenight @its-interesting-van-kleep   @takenbythemadness   @edgingthedarkness @myownparadise96   @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @tripthelightfantastix @sanguinebats @wetkleenex-gvf @peaceloveunitygvf @kiszkas-canvas @fleetingjake @lizzys-sunflower @hollyco @emojakekiszka @gvfmarge @Dayumclarizzel @lipstickitty @clownstarr @musicislove3389 @i-love-gvf @blankvz @psychedelectable

[thinkingboute]

masks pt. 2 | harry styles x model!oc

summary: Lina has spent time away from the hell of the modeling world---recouping in Brazil with her new puppy and meditating on what life she really wants for herself. She makes her modeling return, a few months after her run in with Harry Styles, at the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. Eager to let the past be the past, she embraces a new start. Until, that is, One Direction is set to perform on the runway.

part 1 here!

warnings: mentions of drugs, disordered eating, vomit, anxiety, (eventually sexual content but be patient friends)

a/n: A quick part 2 before I can really dive into the story I have planned for these two. I'm having a lot of fun developing Lina as a person and her independent voice. I know people prefer x reader fics so I appreciate those of you who have shown love to the first part! I hope you enjoy this one!!

word count: about 1.1k

The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show.

The best and worse time of a model’s year. 

Lina had been in the gym for at least three hours each day for the last two weeks. Each meal she had was carefully crafted to cause the least bloating, give her the most protein, and not add one pound to the scale. The danger of this was not lost on her, but what choice did she have? She was glad to have escaped this almost alternate universe models lived in for a few weeks before the prep for the show began. 

After the disastrous Vanity Fair ball in October, Lina woke up in her hotel room, unsure of how she got there, with no phone or dignity. She had been drowning in shoots and shows and YouTube interviews and more shoots and another shoot and another show and another and another and another for so long. She could hardly recognize her life, now grey and dull. 

Rolling over in the plush bed, she recalled bits and pieces of her humiliating meeting with Harry Styles. She groaned, shifting back onto her back and smothering herself with a pillow. A knock at the door alerted her of Darren’s entry into her suite, followed by 30 minutes of scolding, as though she were a child. She endured it, mostly because she deserved it, and apologized profusely, offering to grab him a scone from the upscale bakery down the block as a truce. He agreed, of course, as Darren was not one to turn down baked goods.

As they walked the busy streets of Manhattan, Lina snuggled into a large fur lined coat, bloodshot eyes obscured by massive sunglasses (Which blocked no sun. It was October in New York), and Darren, dressed in all black as per usual, Lina caught glimpses of Darren’s concerned eyes flitting back and forth between her face and the street in front of him. It felt good to know someone cared about her. As much as she tried to hide it for many long months before, she could not ignore it now: she was spiraling.

“I know I look fantastic, Darren,” Lina drawled, sarcasm dripping from her voice, “but, it would be nice if you stopped just looking at me and said what you want to say.”

Darren shot her a look that had less concern and more disdain. “You know I have children, right Lina?”

She snorted. “I’d be a little concerned if I didn’t, mister. I’ve only met them, what, is it six times now?”

Darren didn’t bother addressing her chide. “When they first went off to college, I called them every day. They were 15 minutes away,” he laughed, and Lina did, too. “I was so worried about them getting hurt, or making terrible decision, and they were only a car ride away.”

“You’re a good father, Darren.”

“Nobody calls you, Lina. If they did, they would see what I’ve seen for too long now.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’re falling apart.”

They walked in silence the rest of the way to and from the bakery. The next day, Lina called her management, canceled her upcoming shoots, and flew to Brazil.

Now, as December crept into the dark streets of London, Lina longed for the warmth of the sun and sand again. Professional opinion of her had dropped after cancelling her shoots on such short notice a few months ago, but how her opinion of herself had soared. She was by no means Zen, as Darren liked to call her, but warmth returned to her cheeks, smiles came more easily to her lips, and, most importantly, she got a dog.  She was ready to return to the industry and, hopefully, be able to focus on what actually mattered to her so long ago: fashion.

And, what a way to start up again: The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show. She was excited to see Gigi again after so long, and to finally have fun on the runway again. There was just one problem, though.

One Direction was performing. 

How could she escape that dark part of herself when she had to strut the person who saw her at her very lowest? Had he told any of his bandmates about that night? Would he say anything about it in front of anyone? He seemed a bit cocky that night, albeit concerned about her well-being. Maybe he would use the bit of dirt he had on her to embarrass her tonight because she’d run out on him.

Lina shook her head, causing the makeup artist working on her eyeshadow to tut at her. The silk of her robe was cool against her skin as she took a deep breath, shoulders rising up to her ears before slowly lowering back down, and apologized to the woman behind her closed lids. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” a low voice drawled. The English accent added a certain musicality to the simple sentence.

Lina winced, earning a light slap to the should from the woman. “I told you before. I’m not typically puking in men’s bathrooms.”

He huffed a laugh. “You look good.”

Lina’s eyes rolled behind her eyelids. “That’s my job,” she said.

Another laugh. “No, I meant, like, good. A bit less like a corpse.”

She clutched at her chest dramatically. “How rude.” It seemed that all Harry Styles did was laugh. “How’d you get back here, anyway?”

“Funnily enough, I was looking for the bathroom.”

“I’m not even sure there is a men’s bathroom here.”

It sounded like he took a sip from a water bottle. “If there was, I’m sure you’d’ve found it.”

Lina snorted. “Maybe you should go look for it. I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

A few light taps to her should signaled for her to open her eyes. Harry leaned against the table in front of her, plastic water bottle in hand, hair mussed as though he’d run his hand through it a few too many times. “Meet me there, yeah?” he joked, pressing himself away from the table. Lina went to respond, but he turned to walk away before she could open her mouth. She supposed that was karma for how she’d left their last conversation. 

She didn’t have much time to think about it, though. Three new women crowded her chair, hands like a whirlwind around her, taking out rollers, dusting some shimmery powder along her collar bones, taking candids for Instagram. 

Lina closed her lips around the straw of her Diet Coke (the only Coke she partook in, thank you very much) and closed her eyes, a low laugh and soft green eyes bouncing around her head.

a/n: I swear things will pick up soon!!!

[goldenbuckyyy]

PARALYZED

Summary: Your mind is making you believe things you shouldn’t.

Pairings: Harry Styles x fem!Reader, Fem!Reader x OC, Mentions of HS x OC

Word Count: 4kish

Warnings: DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AGAINST PARTNER, mentions of blood, slapping, tugging, and previous events of D.V. Also being gaslit, believing something you shouldn’t, allures to depression, anxiety, PTSD from D.V events.

PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE IF ANY OF THE ABOVE WARNINGS ARE TRIGGERING FOR YOU.

A/N: First off, I am so sorry I’m barely posting part 4! I know it’s been a long time since I posted part 3, but I was in a funk about this short series and I had no idea what to do with it! I’m thinking since it’s such a heavy topic, it felt almost draining, but.. here it is! And I hope you all enjoy it. 🫶🏻 thank you for supporting me and loving my work!! I’m also tagging the people that commented on the last part! Song Inspo: “Paralyzed” by NF

All my mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other site nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts!!! It fuels me!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Two weeks. 

It’s been two weeks since you’ve been home since your accident. 

Accident. 

The word felt weird in your brain. It felt weird in your mouth. It felt weird even thinking about it. 

Because the more you thought about it… the more your brain tried to remember the events that had happened to you and the more pain it caused you. 

You had spent the entire time locked up in your home. 

Absolutely terrified to go outside. To see your friends. To see your family.

You hadn’t even seen Harry and it wasn’t for his lack of trying. He called. He texted. He even came to the house when he knew Asher would be at work. He’d stay outside for hours in his Range Rover and you’d secretly watch him from the window upstairs that he didn’t know had the perfect view of him. 

And he looked just as rough as you felt. 

But you couldn’t find it in yourself to speak to him. Let alone see him. 

Sometimes.. sometimes you’d cry sitting against the front door as you listened to Harry talking to you from behind it. 

But you would simply just text him to leave you alone and that you couldn’t speak to him anymore. 

He sent you so many messages daily and it made you feel guilty. Guilty for shutting him out after he was there for you.  Ashamed for what you had done to Asher. And terrified because you didn’t want anything to happen to Harry. The more you thought about what had happened to you… the more it made you afraid of Harry getting hurt because of you. 

You just felt so horrible. So ashamed. So guilty. So gross. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to record anything for your socials. 

You had been posting old drafts that you had saved for a rainy day and you feared that your followers were slowly realizing something was going on. But you ignored the feeling and persisted with your day to day life. 

Well, you were trying. 

Your body still aches. You still felt incredibly sore, but it was slowly getting better. 

The swelling around your face had gone down and the bruising was now a greenish/yellowing color. You still felt horrible. You felt hideous and ashamed. 

You didn’t know why, but you felt so ashamed of yourself. 

And you were terrified of Asher. 

You couldn’t even look at him. He had gone on with his day to day life after you had been released from the hospital. He tried to be there for you, but he could tell something was wrong because you wouldn’t let him touch you. 

You were so scared of him and you didn’t know why. You kept having nightmares of ‘the accident’ and the more and more you dreamt of it… the more the person resembled Asher. The more you saw the figure in your mind… the more their features twisted into Asher’s. 

Those dark eyes turned into angry blue ones. The messy black hair in your dreams turned into bright blonde. The blurry jaw turned sharp and all the features soon morphed into Asher. And it terrified you. 

Had it been Asher who had done this to you? 

The more you thought about it… the more those muffled words the person yelled turned into words yelled at you by Asher. 

The more you think about it the more your breathing starts feeling restricted because you can almost feel the way his strong hand was pressed against the base of your neck. The way he was physically choking you against the wall and how you cried to him, begging him to let you go, but he never did. 

Silent tears fall down your cheeks as the memories pile into your thoughts. You didn’t want to believe it. 

You couldn’t believe it. 

You grip onto your shoulders as you hug your knees to your chest and the cold bathtub feels good on your naked skin. But you feel hollow inside.. almost empty. 

The water surrounding your naked body is cold and your skin is breaking out into goosebumps. But you can’t find it in yourself to get out of it. 

You feel as if you’re drowning in all of your emotions with your heart pounding in your ears. Trying to find the meaning of why he did this to you. 

Why would he leave you with these scars inside of you that will never heal? 

You know what you did was wrong. So wrong. That’s why you hadn’t spoken to Harry in two weeks, but did you honestly deserve all of this? 

Maybe you did. 

Maybe you did deserve this. 

You did this. You cheated on him. You hurt him first. You destroyed him first. He just got even. 

The annoying little voice in your head kept repeating those sentences to you and you were starting to believe it. 

You let out a shaky breath as your body shakes with it. You slowly start to get out of the bathtub, your body feeling weak, and you know you look like shit. 

You had been feeling so nauseated and disgusting. You couldn’t keep anything down, but you kept trying. 

You obviously haven't been eating right and your body is showing it, but you avoid yourself in the mirror and dry yourself off in the dark closet. You pull on an oversized jumper and matching bottoms. You braid your wet hair into a braid and let out a deep sigh. Your chest feels heavy. 

You sit for a second, letting your eyes slowly go up, and you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your dark under eyes and hollow cheeks are enough to make you instantly look away. The bruises you still hold make your eyes sting. The fading handprint marks on your neck make you cringe. You close your eyes quickly and curse at yourself. 

You slowly make your way to your bed, putting your phone to charge, and slipping under the covers. 

And at that moment, Asher walks into the room in his work suit. His eyes immediately find you and you freeze in the bed. 

You wonder if he knows that you know it was him.  

Was it him? 

It was. 

His eyes never leave you as he bends down in front of you. You grip onto the covers around you and hold your breath when his fingers caress your face. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks with sincerity in his voice and warmth in his eyes. And you wonder how he could have ever laid a hand on you. 

“I’m okay,” you reply in a whisper and try to not shake underneath his touch. 

Why are you afraid of him? He was upset and you deserved it. 

“I’m glad,” he says as he quickly kisses your forehead and then goes into the bathroom. He shuts the door behind him and you let out a shaky breath that you were holding in. You wipe the wet kiss he left on your skin and then when you hear the shower start, your body relaxes into the bed. 

Then your phone vibrates on your nightstand. 

Your entire body runs cold and you quickly get it, jogging out of the room, and running downstairs. 

You step outside into your patio and answer your phone. The cold air hitting your face and making you instantly shiver.  

“You have to stop calling me,” you whisper immediately when you put the phone to your ear. Your heart thumps rapidly inside of your chest. 

You hear a small sniffle from the other side of the call and your heart tightens. 

“Sun..” 

You clench your eyes tightly and try to even out your breathing, “Harry. I’ve told you to stop calling me. You.. you can’t call me anymore. Whatever we had, it’s done. It-it’s over.” 

Even if your heart is screaming at you to let him back in. To ask him to come save you. To save you from Asher. To save you from yourself. 

“Just please tell me why you’re still there! He hurt you! He did this to you. Why don’t you believe me?!” His voice is filled with anguish, disbelief, and he sounds absolutely devastated. 

Because you can't admit that he did this to you. Because you deserve everything he did. Because you made the biggest mistake when you slept with Harry again. Harry doesn’t want you anymore. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose as an uneasiness settles into the pit of your stomach. “What am I supposed to do, Harry? I-I don’t even know if it was him! I feel crazy! I feel insane! I-I feel insane for the way my brain is slowly making images of him doing this to me! How could—he didn’t,” you start pacing your backyard, wet grass tickling your feet, “How could he have done this to me?” You silently beg him for an answer. 

You weep silently as he asks, “You remember?” 

You silently groan and wipe your tears away in a rush. 

“I don’t know what I remember! I-I don’t know what’s real or what’s fake. I just know that you need to stop calling me,” you demand as you quickly end the call and sit down on your patio chair. Trying to relax your heart rate as the ugly images rush in your brain. 

You clench your eyes tightly together, your hands grasping at the roots of your hair, and you let out a little whimper. 

Stop crying. You deserved it. 

You slowly start to work on your breathing, your entire body shaking with feelings of anxiety and desperation, and you lean back onto the chair. Letting yourself inhale deeply and calmly. Your eyes are still closed as you try to relax. 

“Y/N?”

Asher’s voice startles you which makes you flinch, which causes you to jump in the chair, your hands gripping onto the arm rests in a panic, and gasping deeply. Your eyes go wide in fright and you see Asher standing in front of you in only his pajama pants. His blonde hair is wet and messy. 

“Hey, it’s just me.” He coos at you, leaning down to watch you, his cold hands covering your own, and you try not to snatch them back. 

He notices your hesitation and he frowns. 

“Why are you outside?” His voice suddenly turned cold. 

“I just needed some fresh air,” you lie as you try to speak clearly and without any shakiness. 

Because your mind won’t stop trying to tell you about what happened. 

His eyebrows furr and his lips go tight. 

“You need to come inside before you catch a cold,” he demands. His hand tightens around your wrist and he basically tugs you onto your feet and drag you inside. 

You yelp loudly, “Asher, what are you doing? Let go of me!” 

He loves you. He wouldn’t hurt you. Would he? 

He already did. 

His hand only grips tighter around you as he drags you into the kitchen. 

The only place you had been avoiding since the accident. Your heart rate immediately goes sky high, confusion runs through you, and you beg, “Asher.. wh-what are you doing? Let me go, please.” 

Fear runs through your body when he shoves you into the kitchen stool and he stands in front of you. 

“Since when do you remember?” 

Your mouth goes dry as your eyes go wide, “Remember what?” 

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest, and his dark eyes turn to you. “Let’s just stop this game where you pretend you don’t remember what I did to you and why I did it to you.” 

“I…I don’t—I don’t know…” 

You look down to try to avoid his hard stare and start fumbling with your fingers. A feeling of uneasiness surrounds you. 

His hand slams onto the countertop, the loud bang making you jump, and tears fill your eyes. Because you’re terrified. Your lip quivers in fright. 

“Stop fucking lying to me!! You’ve been lying to me for years! Saying you and Harry are over! That-that nothing was going on between you guys! That it was over! It was never fucking over!! You kept fucking him behind my back and I want to know why!” 

His hands grip your arms tightly, tears falling down your cheeks as you try to avoid his eyes, and he grabs your chin in his hand. 

“Stop fucking crying and tell me why you kept fucking him!!” He roars at you as angry tears run down his face, chest heaving in rage, and he looks terrifying. 

You cry into his palm, “I-I d-don't know why! It-it just happened, I s-swear!! Please, Asher! Please believe me! It only h-happened a couple times and—-“ you whine as his grip tightens around your chin and pain shoots all over your body from it. 

“So, who’s the father?” 

What? 

His question makes your tears halt, you suck in a deep breath, and your hands immediately go into his wrist to try and pull him off of you. Your eyes staring into his own in shock, “What are you t-talking about?!” 

Father? 

He shoves you off his palm and you steady yourself in the chair again, watching him, and trying to stop more tears from falling. He walks around the kitchen, shaking his head, and he lets out a chuckle in disbelief. 

“Asher!” You cry out, standing up this time even though you are shaking from head to toe, and you feel completely afraid of him. You have to know what he meant. 

“What are you talking about?!” 

He turns to look down at you, his eyes roaming your body, and he stops at your belly. You flinch under his attention, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you’re trying to protect your body from him, and he moves closer to you. 

“I told the nurse from the hospital that I’m your fiancée and she told me that you’re pregnant.” You gasp loudly, covering your mouth as sobs break through you, “The only reason why they told me was because they were about to tell you after they checked your blood work again to make sure, but I begged them not to say anything. Saying something about how it would be too much for you too soon.” He rolls his eyes at your sobs and continues, “I had to practically beg on my knees for them not to tell you, but you were beaten up so bad that they felt bad for you.” 

He leans down to look into your eyes as you try to back away. 

“Little did they know it was me who did it to you,” he whispers, “but then I found out you’re pregnant. And I admit.. I did feel a little bit guilty. But then I felt pissed. Because I don’t even know if the baby is mine. Do you?” 

You whimper as he gets closer to you, your arms wrapping tighter around your body, and you look down to your feet.  

“You did this to me,” you sob out in a whisper, finally admitting it out loud, and you feel your shoulders start to shake. 

He suddenly grabs your neck and in an instant without even hesitation, you react by slapping his face hard. The loud smack startles him as an angry groan rages out of his chest and you instantly retract backwards, fumbling and tripping on your feet to the floor. 

Why would you hit the man who loves you?

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Don’t touch me, I’m sorry! Please don’t hit me!” The words fly out of your mouth at a rapid speed as you quickly scatter into the corner of the room into a ball, trying to shield yourself from him with your arms, and your breathing picks up instantly. 

Asher’s quick steps allow him to reach you in an instant, his big hands swallow your wrist, and he pulls you to your feet. You stumble into his embrace as he holds you tightly against his body. 

His free hand tugs into your hair, pulling at it by the roots and he laughs when you let out a pained whine, and tears spring out in the corner of your eyes, and you’re frozen in his hold. 

He’s pulling your hair down so that you’re looking up at him, his tight hold doesn’t let you move an inch, and his white teeth are covered in his own blood from the hard hit you gave him. 

“Are you scared of me?” He questions as he slowly caresses your face. 

You let out a low whimper as you watch him, scared to even breathe. 

“Why would I ever hit you? You’re my fiancé and I love you,” his voice is steady and cynical. You gulp down the lump in your throat as your lips quiver. 

Your body is aching already from his tight hold and you wish you were braver. 

“I would never hurt you again. Don’t you trust me?” he whispers into your neck as he starts kissing down your jaw. You shiver at his touch and don’t move. 

“Isn’t that right? I would never hurt you again. I’m sorry I ever touched you like I did before. I was only upset. You forgive me, right?,” he whispers into your mouth as his lips hover over yours and he slowly kisses you. Fear is etched into every single fiber of your body and you don’t close your eyes as you watch him kiss your lips. 

You let out a shaky breath as you move your lips against his as you try and think of what to do. How would you even get out of this situation? 

He’s taller than you. He’s stronger and faster than you’ll ever be. You don’t think you’d be able to make it far. You don’t think you’d make it out the door without him catching you. 

“And now you’re carrying my baby. I’m not ever going to hurt you again,” he whispers into your mouth as you cry silently. 

What are you going to do now?

Harry couldn’t live with you. 

He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t fucking think without you. 

He couldn’t even fucking breathe without you. 

His chest hurt from your absence in his life and he was trying so fucking hard to help you. But you wouldn’t let him in. 

He tried calling, he tried texting, he tried staying outside of your house to get you to talk to him, but you just wouldn’t. He didn’t want to force you to remember and he didn’t want to physically take you away from your home. 

He couldn’t do that to you. But he was terrified every single second of the day. He didn’t know what to do. 

He tried talking to your family and seeing if they had spoken to you or seen you, but they said they hadn’t. They said you messaged them every day, but only simple worlds that you were okay and that you were recovering. And that you were tired and needed to be alone. 

It was killing Harry. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. 

He was torn about what to do. Because he didn’t know what the fuck to do. How was he supposed to just take you away from your home? It would be basically kidnapping. 

But he was scared that Asher was going to hurt you again. How was he supposed to know if he didn’t already? 

He just wanted you to be okay. He just needed to see you. He just wanted to be with you. 

He’d protect you. He’d love you. He’d keep you safe. 

If only you’d let him. 

And now you weren’t even speaking to him. You kept telling him to leave you alone and that everything that had happened between you two was a mistake. 

How was he supposed to believe that? You are the love of his life. 

He couldn’t give two fucks about Vivian and Asher. 

Matter of fact, he called off his engagement with Vivian the second he got home from the hospital and she was out of his home the next day. She said she knew it was too good to be true and apparently fucked off to Paris. 

Harry couldn’t bring himself to care because he was too worried about you. And he knew what he was doing wasn’t healthy. But what else is he supposed to do? 

Kidnap you? 

Take you away from your home and keep you in his? 

Keep you in his home until you remember what Asher did to you? And make you leave him? 

Maybe he should. 

Harry’s eyes started burning as tears filled the brim of his eyes and he stumbles out a loud, frustrated sigh, because he’s so tired. He’s so fucking tired of crying! 

He’s so upset at himself for not doing anything. He’s pissed off at the world. He’s pissed at himself. He’s pissed off at Asher for ever touching you and he’s pissed off at your brain for making you forget. 

He wants to kill Asher. He wants to beat him to a pulp. He wants to make him hurt the way you hurt. 

But how is he supposed to do that when you still believe he’s the golden boy you used to love? 

Harry knows he’s not supposed to call you. He knows you probably won’t answer. You never do. Well, usually. But he misses your voice. He needs to hear your voice. He begs god that you remember and that you ask him to come for you. Please. He needs this. 

He clicks on the first contact in his favorites list and his breathing almost hitches when he hears your voice. 

“You have to stop calling me,” he hears your sweet voice whisper into the phone. His heart tightens in his chest. 

He sniffles as he feels his lips quiver and he frowns, “Sun…” 

“Harry. I’ve told you to stop calling me. You.. you can’t call me anymore. Whatever we had, it’s done. It-it’s over.” 

He can hear your strangled breathing on the other side of the phone. His heart is thumping rapidly at your words. He pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Just please tell me why you’re still there! He hurt you! He did this to you. Why don’t you believe me?!” He yells into the phone trying not to get too upset. But he feels so much pain right now. He feels devastated. He just needs you to believe him. Why don’t you believe him? 

He clutches his own chest as if he’s trying to console his own heart from the pain he’s feeling. 

“What am I supposed to do, Harry? I-I don’t even know if it was him! I feel crazy! I feel insane! I-I feel insane for the way my brain is slowly making images of him doing this to me! How could—he didn’t.. How could he have done this to me?” 

Harry listens to your rapid words and he aches for you. All he wants to do is take away everything you’re feeling. He wants to take away all your pain. 

He begs god to give it to him instead. He can handle it. He can take it.

You can’t. He doesn’t know if he can save you from this. He wants to save you. And then it clicks. 

He silently gasps when your words click in his own brain. 

“You remember?” 

He hears you groan into the phone before you speak again, “I don’t know what I remember! I-I don’t know what’s real or what’s fake. I just know that you need to stop calling me.” 

Then, the line goes dead. 

Harry stares at the phone in shock. His mind reels a million thoughts every second. What should he do? 

He doesn’t even think before he shoves on some shoes and goes into his Range Rover. 

He’s going to save you. Even if it kills him. He’s going to take you away from Asher. 

And he hopes you forgive him for not coming sooner. 

Tag list: @yellowtrain28 @sarcas-latte @st-ev-ie @ingrid-ingrid-ingrid @cherry01 @writinghost @that-daydream-look @marzhshaim

[daaydreamy]

Just anything with Leo, loooove them together

after a long day of work

summary: stress instantly leaves harry’s body once he comes home.

warnings: coarse language, smut, threesome/polyamorous relationship, protected sex, oral (f receiving)

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader x male!oc

•••

Leo brought a hand up and grasped the tie that was still around Harry’s neck, pulling on it lightly as if it were a leash, his other hand gripping his thigh with his arm wrapped around it. All that Leo and Y/N managed to take off of his body were his shoes, pants, and underwear. He was still wearing the white button-up he wore to work that was completely unbuttoned, with his black tie still keeping it on him. Harry still even had his socks on, one of his ankles resting against Leo’s shoulder.

As soon as Harry came in through the front door, he was needy. He was stressed out, starting to feel a headache coming on, until he felt hands wandering his body and kisses against his lips, then it all melted away. Now he was moaning and whining in their bed, cheeks burning and thighs trembling ever so slightly.

But his noises were soon muffled when Y/N swung one of her thighs over Harry’s head, her knees digging into the soft mattress, soft moans now starting to slip past her lips when Harry eagerly started licking into her, wrapping his arms around her thighs so she couldn’t pull away. He was moaning against her, digging his nails into her soft thighs.

Leo couldn’t help but lean in to press his lips against Y/N’s, moaning wantonly into her mouth. They kissed for a while, slowly and teasingly, licking into each other’s mouths and stopping ever so often to just pant and groan. Leo pulled away after a little while and looked down at where his cock fucked in and out of Harry, cursing under his breath, before he spread the precum that had been drooling from the tip of Harry’s cock down, slowly putting his hand around him.

“Fuck.” Harry had pulled off of Y/N to whine, back arching up and making her chuckle. She moved off of his face and leaned down, licking over the seam of his lips to open them up, tasting herself on his mouth. “You’re so needy, aren’t you, baby? We’ll take care of you.” She murmured.

a/n: and by “take care” she means they’ll fuck him until he’s a pathetic little mess :(

🏷: @crow-i-guess, @planetflos, @harrycanyonmoonn, @bxtchboy69, @sweet-as-lilacs, @lyricalniall, @venusincleo (couldn’t tag you!), @bxbun111, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @emispleased, @goldenhrry, @cinnamongirlrry, @manifestrry, @sadqn1, @judesgfirl, @taylorsreputationsversion, @violetsandfluff, @phoebebridgersforqueen, @a-strange-familiar, @moonlightbea-33 (couldn’t tag you!), @famedrs-blog, @coochiesteak, @blahblahblah-888 (couldn’t tag you!), @milesisntdonewritingyet, @harrysgoth, @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite, @cinnamonlola, @youcan-nolonger-run, @velvetrylie, @vamprry, @ellie-loveshs, @gorlsinmultifandoms

[multifandom-03]

Like Romeo and Juliet

Word Count: 5270 | Pair: Draco Malfoy x OC | Genre: Angst, sad/bittersweet ending

Warning: Mentions of suicide, pregnancy loss, major characters death

Summary: Their love was forbidden, and a bittersweet ending they had...

A/N: You might have seen this special one-shot either on Wattpad or Inkitt website - I wrote this when I was young, and this was most readers' favourite. So if you see this familiar one-shot - yes, I was the one who wrote it hehe. I'm not going to say my username from Wattpad cuz not gonna lie...I'm a bit shy and embarrassed about what I wrote when I was young haha. But this specific one-shot has a special place in my heart and I wanted to share it here on the Tumblr site~

"Their lives were taken away, just like that dreadful story: Romeo and Juliet." - Lord Voldemort

In the beginning, he was a Slytherin, and she was a Gryffindor. His house hated hers, hers hating his. The houses were sworn enemies, and if either one spoke to the other, there would be chaos. But they wanted to communicate with each other. Their friends and family told them not to, but they did.

And a sad fate they met.

It was during their Fourth Year at the Yule Ball did they met for the very first time.

They had never seen one another during their time at Hogwarts, so they were amazed and curious when they saw one another for the first time.

Draco Malfoy was loitering around the buffet of the bowl, trying to hide from his date who happened to be Pansy Parkinson. He thought having Pansy as a date would be fine; oh how wrong he was…

He was bored. And he hated the attention Harry Potter was getting. Just because he was The Boy Who Lived and got chosen by that stupid goblet…

Coming up with a decision, he went to make his leave back to the Common Room when he saw her. The most beautiful, breathtaking girl he had ever seen.

She was across the hall from him, watching everyone with a small smile on her gorgeous face. She was wearing a beautiful light blue dress with white patterned lace from her shoulders and chest area, her dress was designed corset style for her abdomen but the dress fell loosely, almost like it had a mind of its own and was floating simply around her. (Draco was terrible with describing what she was wearing, too gobsmacked at the sight of someone so gorgeous and elegant.)

Even from such a distance, he can see her eyes shining brightly against the lights, her raven dark hair twisted into an elegant bun with ringlets surrounding her oval-like face. Maybe to some people, she wasn't the prettiest in Hogwarts, but for Draco?

He knew that she was the one.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, their eyes connected. Grey eyes connected with warm, chocolate brown eyes. It felt like their souls were being connected - like love at first sight.

Simultaneously, they started to make their way to one another. Both yearned to talk and know one another.

Draco merely pushed and shoved his way through, the girl politely excusing people as she shuffled by. They were just a metre away from one another, hands outstretched to touch when they were both taken away at the same time; Draco was pulled away by Pansy and the girl was pulled away by Hermione Granger. Despite the sudden change, they saw who dragged whom, and they knew what they were about to have...it was forbidden.

For she was a Gryffindor, he a Slytherin.

✨✨✨

Days went by when they saw each other again. It was during a weekend when Draco saw her sitting alone at the Black Lake, reading. When no one was looking, he hurriedly made his way over to her. "Hello," he greeted from behind her.

Said girl gasped in surprise, slamming her reading book shut with a snap. She stood up and turned around, ready to yell at whoever was disturbing her reading time only for her mouth to drop open at the sight of the boy. He gave her a shy smile - something uncommon on the boy's face.

"H-Hello," she stuttered out after a few seconds of silence and just gawking at him.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," he introduced, holding a hand out to her.

"Vivienne Moore," she lightly took his hand. And without losing any eye contact, he bent slightly to press a chaste kiss to her knuckles. Her breath hitched at the intimacy of a simple greeting. "You're a Slytherin," she blurted out.

"And you're a Gryffindor," he acknowledged without any malice. "Nice to have that out of the way."

"But, people will find it strange," she murmured.

"Some might find it a truce between our houses," he gave a cheeky smirk.

"Some might find it as betrayal," she looked away from him, pulling her hand away from him.

"You're thinking about the Golden Trio," Draco realised. "That's right, you're friends with Granger."

"They're really nice when you get to know them," she insisted.

"And it's the same with me," he added, "I'm not as cruel as they say, Vivienne."

"I didn't think that at all," she whispered shyly, still not looking into his eyes. They went silent for a few more seconds.

"You looked very beautiful at the Yule Ball," Draco broke the silence. "Took my breath away, really."

"You looked very handsome that night," she quipped back, a blush coating her cheeks. If you looked closely enough, you could see Draco was starting to get pink tainting his pale cheeks as well. "What are we doing?"

"Getting to know each other," he shrugged innocently. "Maybe even fall in love." Why was he acting like this? He never acted sappy and romantic for someone. What was she doing to him?

"It's forbidden," she shook her head.

"Unless we're not caught," he could see he was going to lose her soon from her worries; he was not going to let fear get in the way of their potential love. "Come on, we don't have to tell anyone," he insisted, "It's just between us two. You're telling me you didn't feel the connection that night? That this was all a big hoax?"

"No!" she said automatically. "It was not a hoax, I felt it too." Draco sighed in relief. So he wasn't the only one that felt it. "Alright," she caved in, "But no one can know."

"No one," Draco agreed, a genuine smile crossing his face.

After that day, every evening before curfew the two would meet up in the Room of Requirement - something Vivienne showed him as top secret. There, they got to know one another without any distractions or worries and where they began to fall more in love with each other.

✨✨✨

It lasted until the Fifth Year.

When Dumbledore's Army was created.

Like a loyal Gryffindor, Vivienne attended the lessons - thus, having less quality time with Draco. The more she kept postponing their meetups, the more suspicious Draco got. It wouldn't be a surprise if she was part of the secret army, he thought one day.

But strangely, it still surprised him.

When they knocked down the wall to the Room of Requirement, Draco saw Vivienne near the front, standing in front of a little girl protectively. When they connected eyes across the room, Vivienne could see the hurt and worried look in his eyes, and he could see the look of guilt in hers. And Umbridge saw their small interaction.

"Ah, I see," her high-pitched voice drawled out in the tense room. "You didn't expect to see your secret lover here."

"Secret lover?" Vivienne's eyes went from guilt to betrayal. "You told her?"

"You and Malfoy?" Ron Weasley exclaimed in disbelief. "You're pulling our leg, aren't ya?"

"I'm sorry," Draco murmured. "I thought you were in trouble or something -"

"Well, you thought wrong," Vivienne blinked away her tears. After the small interaction, Umbridge's small army went into action. They grabbed as many Dumbledore's Army people as possible, even Vivienne - though she didn't put up much of a fight. What was worse, none of her friends looked in her direction, thinking that Vivienne had betrayed them.

Nothing was going well.

✨✨✨

Sixth Year came, and it was still the same; getting rejected by her peers and being isolated. At least Draco could tell his house to stop and never mention it. But Vivienne couldn’t. She was stuck all alone. Even though they found out the true culprit who ratted them out, they still chose to ignore Vivienne.

It didn’t help that she was an orphan as well, making her feel lonelier than ever.

Draco tried talking to her, to reconcile, to no avail. She avoided him at all costs. She was not the only one feeling depressed, though, Draco was suffering too. It was all his fault that they were in this situation; he foolishly told Umbridge about his troubles, how she always seemed to have a busy schedule. He foolishly thought that not only was she part of Dumbledore’s Army, but he also had the fear that she would grow tired of him and meet someone else. Oh, how wrong the latter was - the look of hurt and betrayal on her face will forever be imprinted in his mind.

He looked down at the cursed Dark Mark on his arm, grimacing at the sight. He shoved his sleeve down harshly so he didn’t have to look at it any more. That didn’t mean he could feel it, though.

With a heavy heart, he went back to the cabinet he was to fix when suddenly he just collapsed to the floor and cried his heart out. Sounds cowardly, I know. Not only did he lose the love of his life, but he also became something he didn’t want to be and was assigned to bring Death Eaters in and kill Dumbledore. This year just wasn’t going well for him.

“Draco?” a familiar voice called out to him. Wiping his tears away harshly, he turned around on the floor to see whether his thoughts were true. And it was; Vivienne was standing in front of him.

“Vivienne...” Oh, who knew how long it’s been since they were alone. Memories of their time together attacked his mind, along with the heavy assignment he was given. Without another word, he brought the young woman into his arms and cried. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. I missed you so much, and I need you. I need you so much in my life...”

“Draco? You’re scaring me,” Vivienne pulled away to wipe his tears away gently. “What is the problem? This can’t possibly be just from our situation...”

“I-I...” he stuttered, close to having another panic attack that week. “I can’t tell you. You’ll hate me more.” He buried his face in her neck, oblivious to her eyes softening at his statement.

“I don’t hate you,” she revealed, running her hand through his messy hair. “I’m just a little disappointed, and I kind of needed some alone time is all...” She hugged the broken boy closer to her. “Draco, what’s happening? No more secrets.”

And so he told her everything - what more could he lose? It was best if she stayed away from him after this, she would be safer without him in her life…

“Let me help.” Draco was out of her arms in an instant, eyeing her as if she was crazy.

“No!” he automatically refused. “No way, I am not bringing you into this. You should stay away from me like you’ve been doing this year.”

“I’m not losing you again,” she shook her head stubbornly.

“Please,” he begged her, grabbing her by the shoulders. Shivers ran down his spine at the thought of her coming across danger. “He can’t know about you. It’s bad enough that he’s threatening my family. If he caught sight of you -”

“No,” she glared at him. “I am with you until the end. I love you, Draco.”

I love you

Oh, it’s been a while since he last heard her say those three words to him.

Draco smiled softly at her strong confession, leaning his forehead against hers, his arms circling her waist. “I love you too,” he whispered.

“We can always run away,” she suggested weakly. “Away from him, Hogwarts and their judge-filled gazes...”

"Sorry, love," he said sadly, "He'll always find me. With this mark on me, he'll know where I will go." He pressed his lips against her temple in a delicate kiss. "I'm sorry, all we can do is hope for the best."

"And then what?"

"And then..." He looked at her seriously. "And then we fight back. For our love."

✨✨✨

Hogwarts Battle...

Draco fought with his school, knocking out Death Eaters wherever he went. He was trying to find a specific someone he lost sight of.

As he entered the courtyard, he felt himself freeze up when he saw a scary-looking Death Eater fight against the person he was looking for. "Vivienne..." he breathed out. She was no longer fighting one, but two men, and easily defeated them much to Draco's surprise. Sometimes he forgot she trained for these kinds of situations.

His awe wore off though when he remembered why he was looking for her in the first place. He took her to a secret hideout outside Hogwarts before the battle happened, wanting her to stay safe. However, Vivienne ignored his pleas and joined the battle. The reason why he discerned she was no longer at the hideout was because even amongst the battle, he could recognise her voice anywhere. So he went looking for her.

"Vivienne!" he yelled enraged, marching towards her. He grabbed her arm to turn her to him. "Are you crazy? What are you doing here?"

"I came to help," she lifted her chin bravely. He shook his head, exasperated.

"You're going to get you and the little one killed -" they dodged out of the way in time to avoid a spell that was thrown at them. Vivienne turned to the person who threw the spell at them with her wand raised, only for her arm to fall when she connected her eyes with Ginny Weasley.

"Ginny!" Vivienne looked at her old friend in surprise.

"Traitor!" Ginny spat, "After all this, you're still with them?"

"Ginny, it's not like that -" Draco shoved her to the side with him when Ginny tried to throw another curse at them.

"Love, we have to go," Draco told the sad girl. "We can't change her mind. Let's go back to the hideout." Vivienne sent one last sad look to her ginger friend before the two ran away from the battleground.

As they were getting closer to the exit, Bellatrix appeared in front of them with a snap, grabbing Vivienne from Draco's hold. "No!" Draco yelled, reaching an arm out to grab her back. He reeled away when Bellatrix shoved her wand under Vivienne's chin.

"Sorry, nephew!" the crazy woman sneered. "Dark Lord's orders."

"NO!" Draco screamed, the love of his life disappearing before his eyes again.

✨✨✨

“Draco!” Lucius hissed. Everyone turned to Draco, wondering if he was to join the dark side again now that Harry was gone. Some people saw him helping them, while some still thought he was part of the dark side.

But Draco stood there, refusing to move. It was what Vivienne wanted him to do. Where was she? Where did his Aunt take her to? He had to find her as soon as he could -

“Draco!” his mother called out this time, begging. Although he wasn’t as close to his father, his mother he treasured dearly. His face unwillingly twisted to one of conflict.

“Oh, Drakey!” Bellatrix’s voice emerged. She appeared at Voldemort’s side, holding Vivienne in a headlock. Everyone gasped when they saw her struggle to get out of the crazy woman’s grasp, Draco almost choking on his breath. Despite the circumstances, he was glad to see her still alive. “You wouldn’t leave Vivienne here all alone now, would you?” That brought him to his decision.

“Let her go,” he begged, eyes tearing up. “If you let her go then I will join you.”

“NO!” Vivienne panicked, struggling more.

“Shut up!” Bellatrix hissed, jabbing her wand at her face. “Stupid orphan. Come on Draco, choose wisely!”

“Don’t,” Vivienne mouthed to him, a tear escaping her eye. “Stay there,” she said out loud.

“Vivienne -” Draco took a step forward.

“DON’T!” she screeched out desperately. “YOU DON’T BELONG ON THIS SIDE! YOU’RE NOT LIKE THEM!”

“Enough!” Voldemort hissed, growing impatient. “Kill the orphan!”

“No!” Draco yelled, “I’ll join! I’ll join!” He started making his way to them.

“Draco...” He paused midway at the seriousness in his lover’s tone. She looked him in the eyes with determination. “Don’t.” was all she uttered.

His mind and body were feeling like jelly. He wanted to stay on the good side as the two wanted, but at the same time, he wanted to protect her. Both of them.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him weakly as if hearing his thoughts. “I love you.”

“I-I love you too.” It was the first time they publicly confessed their love for one another.

“So that’s your decision then?” Voldemort mused. “You’d rather do what she says than join me. For her safety. Or your parents.”

Draco didn’t reply. Why was doing the good thing so complicated?

“Very well then,” Voldemort sighed mockingly, pulling out his wand. Draco’s heartbeat started to accelerate from nerves. What was the Dark Lord going to do? “I am very disappointed in you, Draco Malfoy,” Voldemort twirled his wand on his hand as he slowly paced around. “First your Father disappoints me, and then you. For love. Weakness. Disgusting.” He turned his red eyes to Draco with a glare. “You’d risk not only your life but hers and your parents? You’d risk everything for a weak girl like her?”

“She is not weak!” Draco fought back. “She has the biggest heart than anyone I know. She has the heart to love someone like me!”

“Yeah, and betray us!” Ron scoffed. Draco momentarily turned his back on the bad side to glare at Ron so heatedly, that it unnerved them all.

“She didn’t!” Draco defended. “She has done nothing but support you all. You know she never ratted you out to Umbridge! All she has done was be there for me, and love me despite prejudices and my flaws...” He turned back to Voldemort, ignoring the looks of shame on Ron and some people’s faces. “This whole time while people have been isolating her, she has been helping the good side look for reinforcements from around the world. How else do you think some of these wizards from around the world came here to fight?” He threw his arms out towards some foreign wizards who willingly came to fight for justice.

Everyone was surprised when they first came, wondering how people from America, Australia, Japan, China - and so many other countries - came to Hogwarts to help the battle. They simply ignored it, thinking it was the Order or one of the professors who had connections. They never knew they all came from Vivienne who surprisingly had a way with words…

“This whole time you thought Vivienne was some traitor or weak person - well let me tell you, she is not!” He doesn’t know where or why he got this sudden confidence, but he was going to use it. Vivienne went through so much for him, he wanted to help her back. He knew the people’s opinions on her had wounded her, and he wanted to set things straight before it was too late. He loved her. He would do anything for her - even yell in the courtyard in front of everyone including the Dark Lord. “You know what else she did for me? Taught me what was right and wrong, and no way am I joining your side!”

“ENOUGH!” Voldemort yelled, infuriated. He aimed his wand at Draco who lost all confidence and was now a clear target for the wrath of the Dark Lord. “AVADA KEDAVRA-”

“NO!” Vivienne screamed, escaping Bellatrix’s grasp.

To him, everything was in slow motion like the first time they saw each other at the Yule Ball. He watched as Vivienne ran to him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, face pressed against his chest, her back to Voldemort. And just like that…

She was hit with the killing curse.

Her limp form slumped against him, Draco catching her immediately before it was too late. “Vivienne?” he called out shakily, his lips wobbling in an attempt trying to hold in his tears.

No response.

“Vivienne?” He shook her lightly, feeling his world shatter. “No...Vivienne!” A second later Draco lifted his head to the sky, releasing a bloodcurdling scream of pure heartbreak.

All this fighting and surviving together…a waste in the end.

“Now you see what happens,” Voldemort hissed, having already expected this scenario. “I will give you this one last chance. Or else your parents will be next.”

Everyone from Hogwarts cried along with Draco at the sight of the fallen girl. Ginny, Hermione, Ron...they all felt guilty for not believing Vivienne and for giving her a hard time. All along she was innocent. And poor Draco…

He sobbed into her hair, his hold on her form tight. She was gone. Right before his eyes. First Dumbledore, then Harry, now Vivienne and…

He rested a gentle hand on her stomach, mourning not for one, but for two people. The child he never got to see grow up…

Near them, Draco spotted an abandoned wand. A plan started to form in his mind…

“Join me, Draco Malfoy, and no harm shall come to you -”

“DRACO, NO!” Narcissa interrupted the Dark Lord for the first time, her face etched out in horror.

Draco had grabbed the fallen wand and placed it underneath his chin, still staring at the love of his life with tears pouring out of his eyes. “I love you,” he whispered to the motionless form. “I’ll see you two, soon.”

“Draco, no!”

“Malfoy!”

“Draco!” Everyone started to scream. Voldemort watched on in shock. This, he did not expect.

They couldn’t get to him; he had cast a silent shield around him and Vivienne before his parents or anyone at Hogwarts could reach them. “Get him!” Narcissa cried to her husband.

“I-I can’t!” Lucius whispered, throwing spell after spell to the invisible shield. “Nothing is working!”

While chaos ensued around the couple, Draco took deep breaths and closed his eyes. “I love you,” he whispered again. “I’ll see you two soon.”

“DRACO!” his parents screamed one last time.

“Avada Kedavra,” he whispered. And just like that…

He was gone.

Everyone was silent, staring in shock at their fallen bodies. Draco Malfoy and Vivienne Moore were dead; Draco’s form was on top of Vivienne like he was protecting her from all dark and evil. One hand laid across her stomach. For their unborn baby.

“How sad,” Voldemort mused with amusement over the cries of many people, “Their lives were taken away, just like that dreadful story: Romeo and Juliet.”

✨✨✨

The battle was over, Voldemort was gone and defeated. Everyone celebrated, but only momentarily. Many lives were gone, especially two people.

They had grabbed their bodies, placing them gently in the middle of the Great Hall on one cot. They made it look like they were just merely sleeping; Vivienne's head resting gently on Draco's chest, his arms wrapped around her protectively - especially in her stomach area. Madam Pomphrey had checked over Vivienne and their suspicions were confirmed. Vivienne was pregnant when she died. It made the whole thing worse; not only did they kill a dear friend, but they also indirectly killed an innocent unborn child. Peace was all the two ever wanted.

Draco's parents stood on one side of the bed, the Golden Trio on the opposite side. They were giving their respects.

Hermione was crying into Ron's chest, heart filled with guilt and heartbreak at the sight before them. Draco's parents were in a similar situation; Narcissa crying into her husband's chest. Lucius stared down at the bodies with an expression of sorrow at the sight of his only son gone.

Looking at them, they never realised how much their situation took a toll on the two teenagers until then. They noticed the sunken eyes, skinniness, the stress lines on their faces...yet despite all that they looked to be in peace.

"No more," Lucius rasped out. Everyone turned to him, even nearby people. "No more of this feud. That's why they're gone. Because of this stupid feud between us."

Harry nodded in agreement. "No more," he acknowledged.

The two were buried alongside Dumbledore as a symbol to everyone; that love was unlimited and powerful, that love conquered all - even at the worst. It was also a symbol of why feuds shouldn't happen.

Draco Malfoy and Vivienne Moore were marked in history by the Wizardry World.

Harry named his third son after Draco, and Hermione and Ron named their third daughter after Vivienne.

There was peace between the Malfoys and the Golden Trio - they would all meet up on the anniversary of their death.

There was peace between Slytherin and Gryffindor for the first time in history.

Draco and Vivienne's story was told worldwide for many years, their story having been written down in diaries the two owned.

Everyone knew the truth in the end.

Vivienne was innocent.

Draco was innocent.

And they were in love.

Like Romeo and Juliet.

Hermione pulled away from the typewriter, blinking away her tears. It was done; she finished writing the story of the star-crossed lovers after 22 years of writing, erasing, writing, editing - until she reached the end. She wanted it to be as real and detailed as possible. It was the least she could do for them.

A knock came on her door, revealing her two best friends - one of them being her husband. They noticed the sad look on her face and the typewriter she sat behind. "It's finished, huh?" Harry mused, the two of them sitting across from her.

"Yeah, it's done," she sighed, closing the two diaries gently and putting them in a safe. "I hope it is as close to the actual memories..."

"I'm sure you did brilliant, Mione," Ron assured her. "They would love it."

"I think it will bring closure to us all," Harry added quietly, "especially to Malfoy's parents."

"After making sure it's correct, the first copy will be sent to them," she announced confidently, gathering the papers and putting them in a safe place on her clean desk. "How are they? It's almost the anniversary..."

"As fine as they can be," Harry sighed, slumping in his chair. "I feel sorry for them all the time. We lost schoolmates when they lost their son...and granddaughter..."

"Poor Vivienne had no one," Ron added miserably. "I can't believe we treated her so harshly..."

"All we can do is move on," Hermione told them shakily. "That's what they would have wanted. That, and the truth which is why I made this book."

"Oh!" Ron perked up at a sudden thought. "There's another reason why we're here!"

"There is?" the Minister of Magic wondered.

"Yup!" the two men nodded.

"It's done," Harry announced. "The painting is done."

✨✨✨

"Mr Malfoy, Mrs Malfoy," Hermione greeted the parents. "It's lovely to see you two again."

"You too," Narcissa said with a weak smile, Lucius giving a small nod.

"I know today is a tough day for all of us," Harry started, "but we hope to help you two get some closure. Which brings us to two gifts."

"Gifts?" Lucius frowned.

"Yes," Hermione nodded. She handed them the wrapped book. "This is the story of Draco and Vivienne - from the first time they saw each other, to..." she trailed off sadly. "Using their diaries, I was able to connect their memories and so I hope through this, you can get some closure and know that despite all this, your son was very happy and in love."

"Thank you," Narcissa sniffed, holding the book to her chest tightly as if it were a newborn. She always wished to be part of Darco’s life when it came to romance, to hear him gush about the lucky girl that caught his heart. She wasn’t able to experience that with her son, but perhaps through this book, she can get a smidge of what her son felt throughout his love life…

"The second gift..." Ron walked to them while levitating a large rectangle-shaped object covered with a cloth. While it was floating in midair, Ron grabbed the cloth and pulled it away to reveal an artwork. An artwork that made them all stifle cries.

It was an artwork with three people; Draco, Vivienne, and their newborn child held gently between the couple. The painting was set in a beautiful field, with the small family sitting on a picnic blanket.

"In their diary," Hermione explained, "Vivienne wrote a dream she had. She had a dream that she was having a beautiful picnic in a field full of flowers and sunshine, and with her was Draco and their newborn baby. Draco gushed about the dream in his diary, and how he hoped it would come true once the battle was over. They knew they were going to have a girl despite the early stages of her pregnancy, and they came up with the name Dariela for their daughter, which means -"

"Beloved," the parents answered. They remember when Draco was a young boy visiting another family’s manor, he came across a book full of baby names - they remembered Draco showing the name Dariela to them, saying how he found it beautiful and hoped to name his daughter that in the future.

"An anonymous painter wanted to create something for us to bring closure," Harry explained to the emotional parents. "With this, we can imagine this as them now, watching us."

"We had a plan of hanging this in Hogwarts," Ron told them, "but at the same time this should go to you since Draco is your son -"

"No," they shook their head.

"You can hang it in Hogwarts," Lucius told them. "It's where it belongs. It’s where…it’s where they met. The beautiful painting doesn’t belong in a dark place like our home."

"Although..." Narcissa hesitated. "If possible...can there be another painting for us to hang? So they can come and go if they wanted..."

"Of course," Hermione nodded quickly. "The painter is working on it already."

"Thank you so much -"

"Hello..." they all gasped when the painting came to life; Draco and Vivienne smiling at them. Narcissa couldn't hold it in and released her sobs.

"Oh, my baby!" she cried. Draco merely smiled at her blissfully. "I'm so sorry..."

"It's okay, it's not your fault," the Draco painting spoke. It made them all shiver with how realistic he sounded. It's been 22 years since they last heard from them…

"Just know that we are happy, and at peace," Vivienne told them, cradling her baby in her arms happily. "We're always watching from above."

"We forgive you," the two chorused. The living people weren't aware of how much they needed to hear that from their lips until that day.

That was the last time the painting spoke. From then on, it was just the two of them smiling and enjoying their time together, something they never got when they were alive. They would silently greet people in Hogwarts, and sometimes visit Malfoy Manor - but everyone knew that it was quite dangerous to have a moving painting of a passed loved one as it could bring one person to madness and unable to move on.

Nonetheless, after that, it was easier for people to move on, to live their lives knowing that everything was okay now, that the small family - wherever they were - was in a happy place.

They never forgot the star-crossed lovers and made sure everyone knew about them and their story. Their story was passed down from generation to generation, proving again that in the end…

Love was unlimited and powerful, and love conquered all.

The End

[wiltedflowers]

hi tags! i'm honey (24, she/her). i'm hoping to find long-term roleplay partners. please note that i will only interact with those who are over 18.

currently, i am only looking for fandom-based roleplays, and i write only on discord. i am up for anything and everything, from something a little more canon divergent to an au to canon. i am comfortable with all pairings and characters of all genders. i love worldbuilding, sharing headcanons, creating moodboards and playlists, and chatting with my partners ooc. ideally, i would like to find someone who shares the same passion and excitement for these aspects.

you can find more information about me and my writing style, activity level, guidelines and limits in my pinned post here.

i'm always happy to double up! i don't have a wanted opposite for every fandom listed here, but don't hesitate to ask for the ones that do have them listed if that's something you'd like to do :)

harry potter: oc x cc. i prefer to do golden trio or marauders era.

i am looking for draco malfoy.

i am open to doubles! i can write for pansy parkinson, harry potter, sirius black, ron weasley, hermione granger, remus lupin, blaise zabini, theodore nott, fred weasley, cedric diggory, and more.

dc (batmanverse): i am mostly looking for oc x cc pairings for this. i would not consider myself an expert on comics, but i am willing to read more and dig deeper if that would be helpful. my depictions tend to be mixed media.

i am looking for bruce wayne.

i am open to doubles! i can write for rachel roth, dick grayson, jason todd, selina kyle, and more.

the hunger games: i am looking for oc x oc for this, perhaps a small mumu? i'd love to create our own games with our own tributes, victors, mentors, etc.

outer banks: open to oc x cc or cc x cc. i'd like to write jj maybank and fix the mistakes that were made in season four.

supernatural: oc x cc. i'm looking for dean winchester. i am open to doubles! i can write for sam winchester, claire novak, krissy chambers, jesse turner, ben braeden, bela talbot, and more.

the boys/gen v: i am dying to write billy butcher, victoria neuman, annie january, cate dunlap, or hughie campbell in an oc x cc or cc x cc pairing.

bayverse transformers: i would love to write sam x mikaela with me writing as sam (using an alt fc of course and making him nerdier).

if you are interested, please like this post and i will reach out to you, or feel free to send me a message <3