#imagine harry styles

[harrrystyles-writing]

Smut boyfriend! Harry vibes...🧡🥵

Edição Halloween 👻 🎃

NotaAutora: Bem, como todo ano eu faço imagines de Harryween, espero que gostem! Não se esqueçam de deixar uma ask para mim depois 🥹 cada comentário me ajuda incentivando a continuar postando coisas assim por aqui💗

Avisos: +18, sexo explícito, conversa suja, palavrões, Harry não é muito gentil.

31 de outubro de 2024

No quarto, você se arrumava para mais uma festa de Halloween.

Quantos anos você e Harry mantinham essa pequena tradição? Já nem lembrava mais. A única coisa que importava era a fantasia, um toque de ousadia e as noites sempre inesquecíveis que vinham depois.

Em frente ao espelho, você ajustava o laço preto no cabelo, o vestido curto inspirado em Alice destacava cada curva com um ar provocante, com certeza parecia a Alice, mas uma versão bem mais safada dela.

Sem perceber, você estava sendo observada. Do lado de fora da porta entreaberta, uma figura sombria se escondia. Harry,  agora com a icônica máscara de Ghostface do filme Pânico, não emitia nenhum som enquanto a encarava. O olhar por trás da máscara seguia cada movimento seu, esperando o momento certo.

Você terminou de ajustar o laço e alisou o vestido, sorrindo ao imaginar a reação dele ao vê-la.

— Prontinha, amor... Vamos? – disse ainda distraída.

Mas, ao virar, o sorriso no seu rosto desapareceu. A silhueta de uma figura de preto preenchia a entrada da porta, imóvel, a máscara branca de Ghostface a encarando em completo silêncio.

— Harry? – sua voz saiu vacilante, o coração acelerando.

Ele deu um passo à frente, depois outro, a cada movimento se aproximando mais, sem emitir uma palavra. Uma tensão el��trica crescia no ar, uma parte de você sabia que era ele, mas outra… uma dúvida se misturava com o medo.

— Ghostface? Sério? – tentou brincar, mantendo a compostura.

Ele permaneceu quieto, apenas inclinando a cabeça lentamente para o lado, sem reação.

Sem resposta.

O coração martelava em seu peito, mas você avançou, tentando ver o rosto por trás da máscara. Quando estava perto o suficiente, ele estendeu a mão, segurando sua cintura com firmeza e puxando você para si. Em um movimento lento, ele ergueu a máscara, revelando o sorriso travesso e irresistível de Harry.

— Gostou? – ele murmurou, o tom de voz rouco e sedutor.

Você suspirou, aliviada.

— Muito, talvez você ganhe pontos pela atuação. – sorriu, subindo as mãos até seu peito.

— Só talvez? — Ele inclinou-se, a boca próxima demais do seu ouvido. — Espero provar que você está errada antes da noite acabar.  — Deu sorriso de lado. — Você está deslumbrante...

— Obrigada. — Você respondeu com um sorriso, aproximando-se e pousando as mãos no peito dele antes de dar-lhe um selinho. — A propósito... estou sem calcinha.

— Sem calcinha, com esse vestido tão curto? Caramba!  Posso começar agora mesmo? — Ele arregalou os olhos, percorrendo-a de cima a baixo.

— Nem pensar! —  Respondeu com um riso leve e um olhar provocador.

— Ah, qual é... — Ele fez um biquinho, fingindo desapontamento.

— Nada disso! Vamos, a festa já deve estar começando.

A festa desse ano foi organizada por ninguém mesmo que James Corden, ele literalmente alugou uma mansão mal assombrada só para isso. A mansão era localizada no meio de uma floresta sombria, as árvores ao redor balançavam suavemente, sussurrando com o vento, o caminho até a entrada era iluminado apenas por lanternas de abóbora e velas trêmulas, criando o clima perfeito para uma noite assustadora.

Ao entrar, você sentiu a música pulsar em seu peito, cada batida ecoando pelas paredes decoradas com teias de aranha falsas, esqueletos pendurados e uma iluminação em tons de vermelho e roxo, a festa estava lotada de pessoas em fantasias criativas e assustadoras,  lobisomens, vampiros, fantasmas e, claro, vários convidados com a máscara icônica de Ghostface do filme Pânico.

Você segurava firme o braço de harry, que a guiava entre a multidão enquanto ela observava tudo ao redor com um sorriso encantado.

— Ok, essa é oficialmente a festa mais incrível que já fomos! — Seus olhos brilhavam de empolgação. — Essa fantasia está em todo lugar! Como vou conseguir não te perder aqui, hein? — brincou, apertando a mão dele.

Harry sorriu por baixo da máscara, dando de ombros de maneira despreocupada.

— Talvez eu queira que você me procure um pouquinho...

Vocês continuaram andando, até encontrarem seus amigos no salão principal, Mitch e Sarah, vestidos como Frankenstein e a Noiva de Frankenstein, dançavam no centro do salão, enquanto Brad, fantasiado de zumbi, dançava com uma estranha vestida de coelhinha e Jeff e Glan, estavam como Bonnie e Clyde.

— Olha só quem finalmente apareceu! Ghostface e sua Alice?  — Brad lançou um olhar intenso para a sua  fantasia provocante. — A Alice mais atraente que já vi.

— Muito obrigada, parceiro, mas foca na sua coelhinha ai. — Harry disse um pouco incomodo.

James, o anfitrião, apareceu com sua esposa, ambos vestidos como Gomez e Morticia da Família Addams.

— Cara, se isso aqui não virar uma letra de música de Halloween, vou ficar decepcionado. — Ele deu uma piscadela para você. — S/n tem que fazer essa noite ser inesquecível para  nosso astro do pop!

— Não é todo dia que eu tenho a Alice mais linda me acompanhando… — Harry colocou o braço ao redor da sua cintura, puxando-a para perto.  — Com certeza a noite vai ser mágica.

— Bora! Aproveitar a festa gente. — Jeff ergueu seu copo trazendo animação a todos.

Realmente James não mediu esforços para tornar aquela noite incrível, havia vários garçons circulando com muitos drinks e comidas temáticas, vocês passaram um  longo tempo dançando e bebendo juntos, perdendo a noção do tempo conforme a música os envolvia. Você sentia o corpo leve, aproveitando cada segundo ao lado de Harry, que a segurava firme enquanto dançavam.

— Você sabe que está me matando com essa fantasia, não é? — Os olhos brilhavam de forma provocativa.

— Não mais do que você com essa máscara tenho um fraco por homens misteriosos. — Você sorriu, mordendo levemente o lábio enquanto o olhava.

— Bom saber... Porque quero muito foder você bem gostoso hoje, com ela.

— Eu vou adorar isso.

— Vamos tirar uma foto, você está incrível.—  Harry  puxou

Vocês posaram juntos, o brilho das luzes da festa refletia nas lentes, capturando seu sorriso radiante.

— Preciso ir ao banheiro, já volto. —  Comentou sentindo o peso em sua bexiga.

— Não demore, viu? — Pediu ele, segurando a sua mão por um segundo antes de soltar.

— Prometo voltar rápido. — Falou antes de sumir na multidão.

Quando saiu do banheiro,  notou que o corredor estava mais vazio do que antes, o barulho da festa estava abafado, o silêncio do lugar parecia sinistro, um pouco hesitante decidiu volta para a pista de dança, mas no fim do corredor, uma figura encapuzada vestida de Ghostface estava parada a encarando com uma faca na mão.

Seu estômago deu um nó.

— Harry? —  Chamou acreditando ser ele brincando de novo. — Onde encontrou essa faca?

Mas o Ghostface não respondeu.

— Se for você de novo, eu juro que vou te matar. —  A figura continuava imóvel, observando-a atentamente. — Harry, estou falando sério, para com isso!  — Seu coração começou a acelerar, você sabia que Harry gostava de pregar peças, mas algo naquele momento a fez hesitar. — Amor, pare com isso, já entendi a piada.

O Ghostface não respondeu, em vez disso, começou a andar lentamente em sua direção, você olhou pra trás vendo só outro corredor longo atrás de si, não havia como  voltar para a festa agora sem passar por ele. O desconforto em seu estômago aumentou, então decidiu lentamente se afastar para trás sem deixar de olhar para ele, mas enquanto se afastava, os passos dele ficaram rápidos, o pânico tomou conta  de você, que começou a correr, seu coração batendo forte enquanto as sombras do corredor pareciam engolir tudo ao redor, o Ghostface continuava a segui-la de perto, desesperada para escapar, tentava abrir qualquer porta que aparecia em seu caminho, mas por ironia do destino todas pareciam  magicamente trancadas, até finalmente uma abrir a dar para a parte externa da casa.

O ar fresco da noite a envolveu assim que você passou pela porta da mansão. O som abafado da música e das risadas ainda ecoava atrás de você, mas ao olhar ao redor, percebeu que estava sozinha na vastidão escura da floresta que cercava a mansão. As árvores eram altas e densas, formando sombras fantasmagóricas sob a fraca iluminação da casa, a sensação incômoda de estar sendo observada não desapareceu, um arrepio subiu por sua espinha, você olhou para trás, tentando convencer a si mesma de que tudo não passava de paranoia, mas a figura mascarada surgiu atrás de você, avançando em sua direção com passos decididos.

O coração disparou, e, sem pensar duas vezes, você começou a correr em direção à floresta. O salto alto afundava no solo úmido, dificultando cada passo. Galhos e arbustos  arranhavam suas pernas, mas o medo a impulsionava para a frente. Tentando aumentar a velocidade, tropeçou em uma raiz saliente, caindo de joelhos, a meia-calça se rasgou, e uma dor aguda percorreu seu corpo, o sangue quente escorrendo por seu joelho, quando tentou se levantar, sentiu um par de mãos fortes a envolver pela cintura, puxando-a contra um peito sólido.

— Acha que pode fugir de mim? — a voz saiu abafada pela máscara, mas carregada de um tom ameaçador.

Você gritou, se debatendo, tentando escapar do aperto dele, num movimento rápido, ele levantou a faca  a pressionou suavemente contra o seu pescoço, aproximando os lábios mascarados de seu ouvido.

—Você pode gritar o quanto quiser. — Ele sussurrou com a voz abafada pela máscara, mantendo a faca em seu pescoço. — Ninguém vai te ouvir daqui.

O coração disparado e a respiração entrecortada pela adrenalina tornaram tudo ainda mais intenso, mas então algo naquela voz a fez hesitar. O tom, a maneira como ele falou,  era familiar demais para ser coincidência.

— Harry? — Você arriscou, quase sem acreditar.

O mascarado soltou um riso baixo antes de finalmente responder

— E se não fosse? Ainda brincaria comigo?

— Isso não tem graça... — você murmurou, a voz fraca.

— Só quero me divertir com você... — Ele ainda brincava com a faca em seu pescoço.

— Harry... — Sua voz mal saiu.

O homem não respondeu, em vez disso, jogou a faca no chão, em um movimento rápido, segurou seus pulsos e a jogou sobre o ombro, ignorando suas tentativas de se soltar. O toque firme de suas mãos percorreu suas pernas, subindo até dar um leve tapa em sua bunda, que fez seu corpo estremecer, mesmo que tentasse resistir.

— Pra onde você está me levando? — resmungou, enquanto ele avançava ainda mais para dentro da floresta, com os passos determinados.

— Para longe de qualquer um que possa me interromper.

Ele caminhou até uma pequena clareira, onde a luz da lua mal atravessava as copas das árvores, criando um jogo de sombras sobre seu rosto e corpo. Ele te colocou no chão com um cuidado, suas mãos mantinham um toque firme deixado claro que você não teria escapatória. Seus dedos deslizaram até a borda da máscara, ele começou a levantá-la, revelando, aos poucos, um par de olhos verde-escuros que brilhavam cheios de uma intensidade perturbadora, um sorriso sádico se desenhando em seus lábios.

— Ficou com medo, amorzinho? — Você engoliu em seco, sentindo o coração ainda disparado, sem saber como responder. — Eu queria te ouvir gritar de medo… —  Ele sussurrou em seu ouvido com uma voz rouca.  — Mas agora, só quero ouvir você gritar o meu nome... até não restar mais nada de você.  — Deixou uma leve mordida na pele sensível do seu pescoço, que fez seu corpo inteiro reagir.— E não vou parar... Até que você implore.

O sorriso malicioso que ele lançou antes de deixar um beijo firme e provocador no canto da sua boca fez seu coração disparar, a tensão entre vocês crescia a cada segundo, com um movimento ágil ele a virou de forma que suas costas se encontrassem com o tronco da árvore, enquanto o corpo dele se moldava ao seu, quente e firme, tirando seu fôlego. 

— Você não vai escapar de mim agora…

Ele se afastou por um breve momento apenas para te observar, o olhar devorador como se quisesse gravar cada reação sua e então ele te ergueu, segurando firme em suas coxas para te apoiar contra a árvore, sentindo-se completamente à mercê dele, você enlaçou suas pernas ao redor da cintura dele, enquanto ele pressionava o corpo contra o seu.Harry levou a boca ao seu pescoço, beijando e mordiscando a pele sensível, enquanto suas mãos exploravam cada curva do seu corpo, sem pressa, apenas aproveitando o momento para te fazer perder qualquer resquício de autocontrole.

— Você gosta disso, não é? — Sua voz baixa e cheia de um sarcasmo provocador. — A maneira como eu te prendo aqui...

— Sim... —  Choramingou em seus lábios.

Ele riu ao perceber o efeito que causava em você, a boca dele  novamente encontrou a sua, quente e decidida, em um beijo que não deixava espaço para dúvidas que essa seria uma das melhores fodas de sua vida.

Harry deixou seus dedos deslizarem lentamente pela sua pele, subindo por debaixo do vestido até alcançar o calor entre suas pernas, com um toque suave, quase superficial, um sorriso carregado de malícia surgiu em seus lábios ao sentir o quanto você já estava molhada.

Você estava tão excitada, você provavelmente não deveria estar, não depois do que ele fez.

—Isso vai ser divertido.— Os dedos dele apenas roçaram em seu clitóris, de forma torturante. — Vou foder essa buceta e você vai estar pingando cheia da minha porra quando eu terminar com você.

Você suspirou, tentando empurrar o corpo contra a mão dele, buscando mais, mas Harry segurou firme em sua cintura, prendendo você contra o tronco da árvore e mantendo seu controle absoluto sobre o momento.

— O que foi? Quer mais? — Ele perguntou, com um tom de sarcasmo, inclinando o rosto até sua boca. — Então pede.

— Harry, por favor... — Você mal tinha fôlego.

— Não. — Ele riu ao ver sua expressão, claramente se deliciando com o efeito que estava causando. — Vai ter que esperar até eu decidir que você merece. — Ele bruscamente a colocou no chão, ouvindo seus gemidos de frustração. — Agora ajoelha.

— Mas, Harry... minha perna. — Reclamou ainda sentindo a ardência do corte.

— Não perguntei! Eu mandei ajoelhar. —  Ele rosnou segurando sua garganta entre os dedos.  — Eu vou foder sua boquinha até você ficar uma bagunça e quando eu termina vai me agradecer por isso, entendeu?  — O apertou dele ficou um pouco mais forte tirando seu fôlego. — Responda!

— Sim...

Ele continuou a enforca-la forçando a deslizar para baixo, até que seus joelhos batessem na terra dura, você sibilou de dor, mas no final das contas não se importava porque desse ângulo ele estava tão sexy, ele colocou a máscara novamente, você não conseguiu evitar deslizando suas mãos até o topo da cintura dele e acariciar sua ereção por cima da calça, você queria agradá-lo agora, ser uma boa menina para ele, afim de ele finalmente deixar você ter um pouco de prazer, a máscara olhando para você tornava as coisas mais quentes.

Harry puxou para baixo as calças, junto com a cueca, seu pau bateu contra seu estômago antes de ficar ereto, alinhado com seu rosto, ele agarrou a base de seu pau e bateu em seus lábios vermelhos algumas vezes antes de empurrar contra sua boca. Ele não foi gentil, nem ao menos deixou você se acostumar com seu tamanho antes que seus movimentos começarem a acelerar, sua mão acariciou seu cabelo antes de pegar um belo punhado e puxa-lo para si, para que cada vez entrasse mais fundo, quando a ponta tocou sua garganta ele deslizou o pau para fora da sua boca e enfiou novamente, fazendo isso repetidamente, logo seus quadris tinham vida própria, movendo-se em um ritmo insanamente rápido, até você estar engasgando em seu pênis, olhos lacrimejando, seu batom borrado por todo o comprimento dele.

— Está indo muito melhor do que eu imaginava. — Ele murmurou, assim que tirou seu pau deixando você respirar um pouco.

— Pode tirar sua máscara? — Ousou perguntar. — Preciso tanto ver você, Harry.... — Choramingou com os olhos de cachorrinho que certamente o convenceram.

Em um ato de bondade, Harry tirou-a jogando no chão.

— Satisfeita?! Agora volte ao trabalho.

Você obedeceu, passando a língua por toda a cabeça de seu pau, depois engolindo até onde conseguia, o aperto da mão dele em seu cabelo a insentivavam ir ainda mais fundo, uma de suas mãos segurava firme a coxa dele, outra massageava suas  bolas dando ainda mais prazer a ele.Os gemidos de Harry eram tão altos, roucos e tão deliciosos, deixando você ainda mais louca de tesão, era muito bom sentir ele tão duro na sua boca, pulsando, sua boceta estava encharcada, seu corpo tremendo, olhado para cima você tinha a bela visão de seu rosto perfeito com a cara de safado que só ele fazia.

— Não faz assim caralho....Porra, eu vou gozar logo se continuar a me olhando assim. — Choramingou, fazendo você sorrir mordendo os lábios.

Ele perdeu o controle, soltando seus cabelos, te puxando para cima sem muita paciência, te empurrou contra a árvore, até que suas bochechas estivessem colada nos galhos úmidos. Ele abriu suas pernas com o joelho,sua bunda ficando incrível nessa posição, suas pernas estavam abertas, completamente incapazes de esconder sua boceta molhada dos olhos famintos de Harry.

— Tô louco querendo essa buceta a noite toda. — Ele se encaixou e meteu fundo sem nenhum aviso, um grito de prazer escapou de seus lábios inchados, ele estava sendo cruel demais hoje e você estava gostando desse lado dele. — Sua buceta tá uma delícia, toda meladinha pra mim. — Harry estava  ofegando contra a parte de trás do seu pescoço.

— Porra... — Soltou um gemido patético enquanto o ritmo dele só acelerava. — Mais, Harry...

Você se apoiava na árvore, sentindo as mãos firmes dele explorarem suas curvas, enquanto ele se movia em um ritmo profundo e implacável, cada investida arrancando gemidos mais altos dos seus lábios.

— Gosta assim, não gosta? — ele sussurrou, a voz baixa e carregada de prazer. — Toda submissa, gemendo pra mim… Eu vou continuar te fodendo desse jeito, até você não conseguir mais segurar.

— Harry... Hmmm, tá tão bom... — você gritava, empurrando seus quadris contra ele, o som da sua pele encontrando a pélvis dele estalando. — Quero... Quero gozar.

— Já quer gozar? Pensei que aguentasse mais do que isso.

Ele continuou socando em você, suas unhas cravaram no tronco, buscando algum tipo de suporte, Harry segurava sua cintura com força, os dedos se afundando em sua pele, guiando você para trás a cada movimento, deixando claro o quanto ele desejava manter o controle, você não conseguia acreditar que ainda estava de pé

— Ah! devagar, Harry. — você gritou contraindo suas pernas, com certeza estaria dolorida pela manhã.

— Desculpe, meu amor, não posso, essa porra de boceta é muito boa. — Deixou uma mordida  que com certeza ficaria marcada em seu ombro. — E se fechar as pernas vai ser pior.

Uma de suas mãos foi em direção à bagunça escorregadia que era seu clitóris, os dedos dele começaram a fazer círculos que fizeram seus olhos reviravam enquanto tentava desesperadamente alcançar seu ápice,  aquele prazer incendiando em seus estômago, mas toda vez que estava tão perto, quase lá, seu corpo tremendo e sua boceta latejando por mais, Harry parava e voltada a te foder com mais vontade, você só conseguia lamentar,  som escapando de seus lábios incontrolavelmente enquanto o prazer avassalador ia consumindo você, a cada estocada te empurrando para mais perto do limite, até seu corpo não aguentar mais.

— Caralho.... Você está ainda mais apertada, vai gozar? — Os dedos agis dele esfregavam círculos ainda mais  rápidos no seu clitóris

— Eu vou.... Eu...Hmmm... — Você gritou, assim que aquela sensação que tanto queria pareceu explodir dentro de você, o prazer  formigando cada pedacinho de seu corpo.

Você estava rendida ao prazer, suas pernas já estavam trêmulas, mal conseguindo se sustentar enquanto ele ainda metia fundo em você.

— Adoro sentir você quando goza. — Mordiscou sua orelha. — Me de mais um.

— O que?

— Goze de novo no meu pau.

— Harry.... Eu não consigo fazer isso!— Sua voz falhou enquanto ele te segurava firmemente no lugar.

— Ah! Mas você vai. — Ele riu. — Você não tem escolha.

Ele continuou metendo em você até  ficar uma bagunça sem palavras, às lágrimas escorrendo pelo seu rosto pelo imenso prazer e superestimulação, o segundo orgasmo te atingiu ainda mais forte, o prazer entorpecente fazendo com que você não conseguisse se concentrar em nada além do pau dele te penetrando.Seus movimentos continuaram tão fortes e rápidos, que você mal conseguia aguentar, um gemido longo e choroso saiu dos lábios de Harry quando o corpo inteiro dele tremeu de prazer e te encheu de porra, diminuindo seu ritmo, até que ele finalmente se acalmou em um grunhido suave.

— Que bagunça você fez em mim. —  Ele zombou, finalmente se afastando.

— Como se você também não tivesse feito o mesmo. — Você ainda estava trêmula, o esperma dele escorrendo por suas pernas.

Ele olhou para você com um sorriso satisfeito enquanto você tentava arrumar o vestido e tirar folhas do cabelo.

— Não adianta, não vai conseguir disfarçar.— Ele comentou, rindo e começando a tirar galhos do seu cabelo.

— Claro, porque alguém achou divertido me arrastar pela floresta, né? — Resmungou, esfregando o joelho machucado.  — Me ajuda a ajeitar logo isso, antes que alguém ache que a gente…

— Que a gente o quê? — Ele te interrompeu. — Fudeu no meio da floresta? — Ele piscou, um sorriso provocador nos lábios.

— É, exatamente isso! — Tentou se manter séria, mas ele estava se divertindo demais. — E aposto que você quer que todos saibam disso, né?

Harry deu uma risadinha e passou os dedos pelo seu cabelo, tirando outra folha.

— Não vou negar que é divertido que eles  saibam que só eu posso te deixar assim.

Depois de um tempo tentando ajeitar a roupa e limpar as folhas e galhos do cabelo, você e Harry voltaram à festa. Ele ainda ria, satisfeito com a própria brincadeira, enquanto você tentava disfarçar a raiva e o susto. Ao se aproximar da entrada, as luzes da mansão revelaram o estado em que você estava: meia-calça rasgada, joelho machucado e o vestido todo amassado e sujo de terra.

Quando vocês entraram, várias cabeças se voltaram. Alguém quase derrubou o drink ao te ver e alguns amigos lançaram olhares curiosos, alguns até sorrindo maliciosamente.

— O que aconteceu com você, garota? — Sarah exclamou, visivelmente chocada.

— Ah, eu acabei caindo, sabe... Na floresta.

— Na floresta? O que você estava fazendo na floresta?

— Andando... — Não havia muito explicação para isso.

— Sei… pelo jeito a desse ano foi divertida em, vocês dois e essas ideias malucas, não sei mais o que pode acontecer. — Disse fazemos todos rirem.

Você realmente não sabia o que mais poderia acontecer, mas mal podia esperar para o próximo Halloween só para descobrir.

Obrigado por ler até aqui, deixe uma ask se gostou ❤️

[harryssyndrome]

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

"You said l've saved you so many times in so many ways, then let me save you one last time... let me love you like you've always wanted."

Ashley and Harry's friendship blossoms after they meet at a small coffee shop in London, curtesy of Harry's little niece. What begins as Harry helping the aspiring student singer to find her space in the music industry, turns into unspoken truth, hidden feelings and too many assumptions. With a rollercoaster of emotions, feelings and hate from the public, will Ashely and Harry have their happy ever after?

✧˖°📷 ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ .° ༘🎧

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏| 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐧?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 | 𝐀𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑 | 𝐈 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 | 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈’𝐦 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 | 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐡, 𝐨𝐡, 𝐨𝐡 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔 | 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 | 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧, 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 | 𝐈 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨. 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞.

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

A/N: I’m super excited for this story and I hope y’all love it as much as I do. Like and reblog the masterlist for updates. Catch early updates on Wattpad. Special thanks to @daisyblog for being my number one supporter and helping me with this project. Love you so much!🫶🏻

Also I wanna thank @thecuriousbeauty for encouraging me to get back into writing again!

Taglist is open! Let me know if you wanna be added through commenting below or dms. 💗🩵

Last updated on: November 6th, 2024 (IST)

Warning ⚠️ : mention of age-gap, mention of blood, hospitalization, accident, anxiety, self doubt, media being toxic, fake fans and haters.

[castielsprostate]

you, bumping into a random guy wearing a cardigan in new your city: watch were you're going, fucking bitch

harry styles, starstruck: you don't know who i am?

you, hand on the mace: tf you looking at, vag for face??

harry styles, admiring you, reaching out to pull you in a hug: god y/n, you're the first one to treat me normally

you, macing the fuck out of harry styles, spitting as he goes down: fucking freaking weirdo

harry styles, withering and crying in pain on the floor: i love being treated like a normal guy, please marry me??

[imagines-1directioner]

Teacher of my child - with Zayn Malik and special guest Harry Styles

Situação: Ficante!Daddy!Zayn Malik x Professora!Leirora

Contagem de palavras: 4863

Avisos: +18; conteúdo sexual explícito; ménage; linguagem imprópria

Sinopse: A professora de sua filha causa um desejo enorme em Zayn, e o que era para ser apenas um encontro casual uma única vez, tornou-se recorrente ao ponto de elevarem o nível do prazer.

N/A: Com base na votação de sexta, aqui está um imagine gigantesco, com muito hot, sedução, fake chat e escrita inédita de um hot a três 🫣 tá uma loucuraaaaa KKKKKKKK. Quero dizer que a inspiração desse imagine veio através de uma história da diva Lari do @1dpreferencesbr com aquela escrita incrível do ‘Professor Styles’, pra quem não leu, LEIA AGORA! E além disso usei o babado do Zayn com a menina do tinder para criar a narrativa, tendo as belíssimas fotos dele como parte da história. Espero muito que vocês curtam e me deem um feedback depois sobre essa nova construção de enredo que tô ansiosa para saber o que acharam e quem sabe trazer mais ;)

curte e reblogue o post para me ajudar 🫶

- Droga, droga, droga! - uma mistura de raiva e desespero era o que a professora da educação infantil sentia no estacionamento da escola em que trabalhava. Tudo o que ela menos precisava as cinco da tarde de uma sexta-feira, após um longo dia trabalhando era que seu carro desse problema. Automobilismo nunca foi seu forte, e qualquer que fosse o assunto que envolvesse carro ela era a pessoa mais leiga possível. Por mais que ela esperasse o motor esquentar ou então um milagre cair do céu, quando dava partida, o automóvel fazia apenas um barulho e morria novamente. Essa situação estava deixando-a sem paciência e apavorada, visto que o carro já havia lhe dado dor de cabeça no mês passado. E nesse mês a grana estava curta.

- Precisa de ajuda? - uma voz masculina se fez presente de forma misteriosa, assustando a garota. Ela olhou para a direção de onde vinha a intenção de ajuda e percebeu a presença de um homem moreno, tatuado, próxima a porta aberto do motorista.

- Eu acho que sim. - riu com vergonha, levantando-se do banco. - Não tá ligando por nada.

- Posso abrir o capô?

- Claro! - após a confirmação o rapaz abriu o capô do carro prata metalizado e verificou algumas peças e equipamentos que S/N sequer fazia ideia do que se tratava.

- Ele faz isso com frequência? - perguntou em relação ao carro, fechando o capô.

- Não, mas ele tem dado certo trabalho ultimamente. Mês passado estava com problemas na vela de ignição. Seja lá o que isso quer dizer. - a risada fraca do moreno saiu quando escutou a sinceridade da moça, e antes que pudesse falar novamente indicou com o polegar o interior do carro, na intenção de entrar.

- Posso?

- Fica a vontade. - a professora deu um passinho para trás, liberando espaço para que o desconhecido adentrasse ao carro. Ele verificou o painel de controle antes de dar partida, mas dessa vez o carro não fez absolutamente nada, nenhum barulho e muito menos um sinal de que sairia dali.

- Chegou a reparar se apareceu alguma mensagem no painel digital?

- Acredito que não.

- Provavelmente seja a bateria que está fraca. - arriscou um palpite ao sair do automóvel. - Você arrumou somente o problema da ignição?

- Sim.

- O pessoal da mecânica deveria ter dado uma olhada na bateria do carro, até porque se deu problema na ignição, quem causou isso foi a bateria.

- Ai meu Deus! - suspirou de modo estressado, sentindo o peso de mais dinheiro sendo desembolsado para arrumar um carro usado.

- Eu tenho um cabo para bateria, podemos tentar fazer uma chupeta.

- Me ajudaria muito! - parcialmente aliviada, S/N auxiliou o rapaz a encaixar as partes do cabo nas baterias dos carros, e ele ligou o seu automóvel para fornecer energia ao dela.

- Eu vou buscar minha filha na escola, acho que é o tempo suficiente para dar uma carga.

- Tranquilo, sem pressa. - dez minutos depois o moreno voltou segurando uma mochila rosa com várias fadinhas e de mãos dadas com uma menininha conhecida pela professora, que se animou ao ver a moça.

- Profe! - exclamou com um sorriso surpresa. - Papai, essa é a professora S/A, ela que me ajuda a fazer o castelo de areia.

- Oi, Khai! - S/N sorriu simpática, acenando. - Não sabia que era pai dela. Normalmente é a Gigi quem vem buscar.

- Ela está viajando e invertemos os papeis. - a professora assentiu.

- Você vai para casa comigo? - a inocência da criança fez os adultos rirem.

- Não, eu vou para minha casa. Seu pai está me ajudando a consertar meu carro que estragou.

- Como você é legal, papai.

- Tenho que concordar. - o homem sorriu tímido.

- Que isso, só fiz o básico. - deu de ombros. - Vamos ver se deu certo? - ele retirou os cabos e pediu para S/N dar partida, e no segundo seguinte o carro ligou.

- Muitíssimo obrigada por isso!

- Imagina! Acho melhor amanhã você levar para o conserto novamente e comentar da bateria, talvez eles nem cobrem. - concordou a jovem.

- Desculpa, estava tão afoita que nem perguntei seu nome..

- Zayn. - ele sorriu. Um belo sorriso por sinal.

- Certo, Zayn. Obrigada de novo. - como forma de responder ao agradecimento ele piscou para ela antes de pegar a filha no colo e colocar na cadeirinha no banco de trás. - Tchau Khai! - S/N despediu-se de ambos e arrancou o carro indo para casa um tanto quanto pensativa sobre o pai de sua aluna. De fato ele era um homem extremamente atraente, e ela sabia que era separado da mãe de sua filha, ou seja, estava solteiro. A piscadela no final foi mais que sugestiva, contudo o fato dele ser pai de uma aluna a deixou receosa se deveria ou não investir.

Nos dias seguintes em que Zayn foi buscar Khai, sempre encontrava a professora seja na sala de aula ou nos corredores. Os sorrisos e olhares penetrantes começaram a tornar-se recorrentes. Eles estavam gostando disso, porém faltava tempo para de fato partirem para ação.

Na segunda semana de interação, na terça-feira mais precisamente, S/N estava na cantina da escola, decorando o pátio para a semana de artes. Ela estava em cima de uma escadinha colando as pinturas dos alunos do jardim de infância na parede, quando pisou em falso no momento que estava descendo. Se não fosse pelo príncipe encantado que a segurou, ela teria dado de costas para o chão.

- Opa.. te salvei de novo? - a voz familiar arrepiou seus pelos e ela sorriu sem graça quando percebeu que era Zayn, ainda nos braços tatuados dele.

- Daqui a pouco terei que te recompensar de alguma forma.

- Eu tenho algumas ideias. - sugeriu olhando para ela de cima a baixo quando a garota já tinha os pés no chão. S/N riu nervosa e mordeu o lábio debaixo depois de sentir o olhar secante dele sobre ela.

- Obrigada por me segurar. - agradeceu enquanto alinhava o guarda pó.

- Não tem de que, senhorita S/S. - novamente o rapaz encarou ela dos pés a cabeça, lançando um sorriso pequeno mas intimidador.

- Khai contou até meu sobrenome?

- Na verdade eu fui atrás. - ela ergueu as sobrancelhas, surpresa.

- Por acaso o senhor tá interessado na professora da sua filha?

- Por favor, temos a mesma idade. Acredito que seja até mais nova que eu. Não precisa me tratar como senhor.

- Normalmente é assim que eu trato os pais dos meus alunos.

- E todos eles te desejam como eu? - S/N não escondeu a risada, disfarçando o olhar para a direita.

- Dependendo do grau do desejo eu chamo pelo nome.

- O que eu tenho que fazer para você me chamar de zaddy? - a insinuação descarada despertou um interesse monstruoso nela.

- Eu sou bem exigente, querido..

- Sem problemas, eu tenho muita experiência.

- Ah é?

- Você se surpreenderia. - S/N assentiu vagarosamente e dessa vez ela quem analisou o rapaz de cima a baixo.

- Não tenho duvidas. - os olhos de luxúria dela endureceram o membro de Zayn.

- Você tá livre na sexta?

- Curiosamente sim.

- E a gente pode se encontrar?

- Me dá seu número e te mando meu endereço. - eles trocaram os telefones e as mensagens nos dias subsequentes já acalentaram a relação recém criada.

Na sexta-feira, pontualmente oito da noite, Zayn estacionou em frente a casa térrea de S/N. A elegância em cada detalhe da residência chamou a atenção do moreno, mas foi o vestido verde de cetim, que ressaltava as curvas da professora, o que mais desviou a atenção dele durante todo o jantar.

Depois da metade da segunda garrafa de vinho, sentados no enorme sofá acinzentado que compunha a sala, o clima efervesceu.

- Então, eu não queria entrar nesse assunto, mas já que estamos parcialmente bêbados, devo dizer que a sua fama de pegador se espalhou pela escola.

- Minha? Eu sou tão discreto.

- Tá, eu andei pesquisando. - S/N soltou uma gargalhada divertida, mas cheia de desejo, instigando Zayn, que abriu um sorriso galanteador antes de bebericar o gole da bebida na taça.

- OK..

- Você teve um lance com a coordenadora?

- Jasmin?

- A própria.

- É, tivemos uma parada, mas foi muito rápido. Aconteceu logo que matriculei a Khai.

- Então basicamente todas as funcionárias que você tem um primeiro contato na escola, você leva para cama?

- Bom, nem todas. - aqueles olhos cor de mel fitaram a alma de S/N.

- Como assim?

- Você ainda eu não consegui. - respondeu enquanto analisava expressando tamanho desejo o corpo dele.

- E tá esperando o que exatamente?

- Você me dizer onde é o seu quarto. - vagarosamente Malik dedilhou a coxa desnuda da mulher, indo na direção de sua intimidade. Instantaneamente sentiu a pele dela arrepiar e como consequência seu membro enrijeceu. Os rostos estavam muito próximos um do outro, e a respiração um pouco ofegante.

- Segunda porta à direita.. - disse baixinho, fitando os lábios carnudos.

- Obrigado.. - foi tudo que ele conseguiu dizer antes de finalmente colar sua boca na dela. Um beijo caloroso iniciou, as línguas rodopiavam-se distribuindo um sabor delicioso. Às mãos de S/N subiram da nuca até o cabelo escuro dele, e um arrepio percorreu a espinha de Zayn quando as unhas pontudas arranharam a parte de trás do pescoço. Com a sala pegando fogo, S/N subiu em cima dele ainda sem desgrudarem os lábios e em sincronia com o beijo ela rebolava para frente e para trás, sentindo muito bem a ereção, principalmente quando Malik apertava a bunda dela, empurrando para baixo. E nessa brincadeira dois gemidos simultâneos saíram. Era nítido o quanto estavam sedentos. Sendo assim Zayn segurou a cintura dela com uma pegada de outro planeta e levantou-se com a moça agarrada ao seu corpo, indo a caminho do quarto. A professora imaginou que ele a jogaria na cama de um jeito selvagem, no entanto ele a deitou carinhosamente, deu continuidade ao beijo mais lento dessa vez e sem que ela notasse, desceu a mão direita para baixo do vestido e ambos se surpreenderam quando as peles se tocaram.

- Safada.. esse tempo todo estava sem calcinha? - ele passou a mão superficialmente e ela suspirou.

- Se estivesse com alguma, teria que ter trocado umas três vezes durante o jantar.

- Fica molhada comigo, bae? - Zayn massageou o clítoris lentamente com o polegar enquanto beijava a garota de forma suave.

- Uhum.. - gemeu entre o beijo, desejando mais daquele toque mágico.

- Se eu soubesse disso teria te comido antes do jantar, em cima da porra da mesa. - a fantasia da cena entrou na mente de S/N, deixando-a com mais tesão. E entre uma fala e outra ele enfiou um dedo nela e um gemido saiu mais alto. Para ela a frase teve muito mais efeito que a própria ação. Zayn tinha o super poder da sedução como sua arma principal. - Caralho, você tá tão melada..

- Então me fode para eu gozar na sua mão.

- É isso que você quer? - movimentou os dedos devagar e S/N revirou os olhos.

- Si-sim..

- Seu pedido é uma ordem, linda.. - no instante que os lábios novamente se tocaram, o rapaz iniciou a masturbação que pegou ritmo fácil. Os gemidos de S/N eram abafados pela boca de Zayn, e aquela combinação instigava tanto ele quanto ela.

- Continua.. - ele aumentou a velocidade, tocando nela em pontos específicos demais em que o corpo estremeceu, até não aguentar e enfim gozar nos dedos dele. Zayn olhou para ela com os olhos pecaminosos e simplesmente lambeu o indicador e o polegar de um jeito sexy que fez a garota desmontar.

- Seu gosto é uma delícia, professora.

- É minha hora de provar o seu. - decidida, ela o puxou pela camiseta vermelha, inverteu as posições e tirou a única peça de roupa em pé, na frente dele. Aquela cena foi demais para o moreno, soltando um respiro profundo de tesão.

- Puta que pariu..

- Tira a camiseta. - simplesmente ordenou e ele obedeceu, já se livrando do tênis e a meia no mesmo tempo. S/N se encarregou de tirar a calça preta que ele vestia e deixou a cueca azul na metade do corpo. Ela tinha certo fetiche quando a vestimenta íntima cobria metade do sexo, dando ênfase nas entradas que ele tinha para a virilha. Uma coisa linda de se ver pessoalmente, e com as tatuagens destacando o corpo deixou tudo ainda melhor. - Você é um puta de um gostoso. - comentou sensual, ajoelhando na cama, ficando entre as pernas do moreno. Naquela posição S/N apenas inclinou o tronco, despiu o pau totalmente duro mas não se livrou da cueca, e quando já estava com parte do membro na boca, ela empinou a bunda e começou a chupar o rapaz de maneira incessante e prazerosa. Zayn via estrelas a cada sugada e a vista a sua frente aumentava tanto o tesão que ele mal conseguia falar, apenas gemia palavrões e sons que eram música para o ouvido dela. Não demorou muito para que ele também gozasse e finalmente entrassem no grand finále. Depois de mais beijos pelo corpo dele, arranhando de leve desde o inicio da intimidade até o peitoral, ela finalmente chegou os lábios e beijou ele devagar. De propósito ela juntos os sexos e movimentava o corpo lentamente, roçando o pau duro na buceta molhada. Aquilo era uma tentação tão gostosa que por pouco não gozaram. O conjunto do beijo com o calor dos corpos se esfregando foi um combo delicioso que apimentou muito o momento antes da dona da casa pegar a camisinha em cima da mesa de cabeceira, rasgar de um jeito sexy e colocar em Zayn. - Eu quero gozar de novo, ouviu bem?

- Sim, professora.. - a garota posicionou o membro dele em sua entrada e sentou bem devagar, e os dois gemeram juntos. - Que delicia..

- É só o começo, docinho.. - iniciou a rebolada passando as mãos pelo tronco tatuado, vidrada naquele abdômen ao tempo que contraiu a musculatura da vagina, levando Malik ao extremo da insanidade. Quando a movimentação ficou boa ela pressionou a parte próxima ao pescoço dele, pedindo sem utilizar palavras para que ele sentasse. Agora com os corpos incrivelmente unidos, ela quicava em Zayn, e ela aproveitava para beijar e lamber a pele cheirosa dela, instigando mais e mais a performance tão bem feita e que durou rápido para os dois, que caíram para trás, ficando direções opostas recuperando o fôlego.

- Meu Deus.. eu imaginei que eu acabaria com você.

- Mas você acabou. - falou sem ar e eles riram. E quando a respiração voltou ao normal, uma nova sessão de beijos começou, dessa vez mais carinhoso mas não necessariamente menos quente do que a que participaram anteriormente, terminando a noite com mais carícias e algumas provocações na cama.

A primeira noite juntos levou a quererem uma segunda, terceira, quarta noite juntos, e quando menos perceberam já estavam nessa há um mês, tempo suficiente para quererem elevar o nível.

Depois de longos dois dias o sábado finalmente chegou. S/N sugeriu que a noite a três fosse em sua casa, e os dois rapazes acataram. Lá pelas 19h, Harry chegou, muito animado, especialmente depois do remember delicioso com a professora em sua banheira. Ela logo o recebeu com uma taça de vinho francês, e meia hora depois Zayn chegou.

- Harry, esse aqui é o Zayn. - embora todos ali já tivessem tido uma experiência como a que teriam daqui a pouco, a insegurança predominava de certa forma. E dava para perceber um leve constrangimento no ar, que os rapazes tentaram ignorar ao soltarem um sorrisinho quando se conhecerem. Mas só piorou.

- Muito prazer. - Styles estendeu a mão, que foi apertada logo em seguida por Malik.

- Prazer é meu.

- Precisamos de álcool para mandar embora essa sensação de vergonha misturada com tímidez. - S/N soltou sincera, indo até a cozinha a procura das garrafas de vinho na geladeira.

- Você é amigo dela? - Zayn tentou puxar assunto.

- É, mais ou menos. Nos conhecemos no trabalho.

- Ah, então também é professor.

- Sou. - respondeu com um riso envergonhado. - Sou professor de história do terceiro ao sétimo ano.

- Legal, acredito que não conheceu a minha filha.

- Acho que não, ela está no jardim de infância ainda, certo?

- Sim, tem só quatro anos. - Harry assentiu. - Você tem filhos?

- Não que eu saiba. - ambos riam, quentando um pouco a tensão e S/N chegou no mesmo momento.

- Toma, sua taça. - entregou para Zayn, que agradeceu em seguida. - Vamos precisar de algumas para gente se soltar.

- Eu já tô na segunda. - o professor levantou a taça e sorriu, sugerindo estar mais à vontade. Depois de alguns minutos eles já estavam menos tensos e curtiam o momento com conversas e bastante álcool.

- Não que isso influencie em alguma coisa, mas Zayn.. - Styles começou e o moreno olhou para ele. - Qual sua sexualidade?

- Sou hétero.

- E não se incomodou quando a S/A sugeriu meu nome? - ele negou. - Que cabeça aberta. Normalmente os homens exigem duas mulheres.

- E você pensou exatamente assim quando eu mencionei o que ia rolar. - S/N acusou rindo, tirando um riso sincero de Harry.

- É porque a gente nunca espera ser outro homem, e você sabe bem disso.

- Já fizeram isso outra vez?

- Juntos? - eles perguntaram na mesma entonação e quando Zayn concordou a risada deles confirmaram a pergunta. - OK, então sou o excluído do rolê. - comentou sem graça, rindo.

- Não pense assim. - a garota sentou no colo dele, com o ar sedutor que ela tinha incrustado em sua personalidade. - Pense em como vai ser legal ter duas pessoas que sabem muito bem o que estão fazendo.

- Quem me garante isso? - ele adorava contrariá-la, não porque discordava dela, mas sim porque entendeu que quando duvidava do que a professora dizia, ela sempre provava seu ponto de um jeito completamente excitante.

- Veja e tire suas próprias conclusões. - S/N praticamente sussurrou, saiu do colo de Zayn e foi em direção a Harry, sentado na poltrona da sala, muito relaxado que até se surpreendeu quando viu a garota sedenta vindo até ele.

- Tirei a sorte grande e vou ser o primeiro? - sorriu malicioso descruzando as pernas para que ela sentasse nele.

- Vamos mostrar para o senhor Malik como as coisas funcionam.

- Com prazer. - Harry pegou a garota pela cintura, sentando bem em cima do seu membro parcialmente duro, não demorando nem um minuto para que ele sentisse a pressão daquele bunda. O beijo quente surgiu logo depois, e era uma coisa de outro mundo quando aquelas duas bocas se encontravam. Eles se conheciam muito bem quando o lance era uma transa bem feita, que apenas nas preliminares o tensão se submetia a algo intenso até demais. O jeito que Harry apertava o corpo de S/N causou uma vontade enorme em Zayn assumir aquele corpo para ele. Sendo assim ele desabotoou a calça, tirando seu pênis para fora e aproveitou o filme erótico ao vivo antes de entrar em cena. O casal estava tão imergido na pegação que só perceberam que Zayn estava se masturbando quando as primeiras peças de roupa foram tiradas. Harry tirou a regata roxa e o sutiã que a garota vestia um seguido do outro, e ela desabotoou a camisa branca do professor, deixando amostrar aquele tronco tatuado e extremamente sedutor que ela tanto amava observar.

- Você sempre me deixa maluca sem camisa.

- Então eu quero te deixar louca dessa vez. - aquela voz rouca seguida do aperto bem dado na bunda e beijos molhados no pescoço arrepiou a pela dela em segundos, deixando um gemido escapar. Os olhos dela fecharam instantaneamente quando Harry chupou o bico do seio direito enquanto apertava a bunda dela, fazendo pressão pra baixo, para que ela sentisse o quão duro ele estava. Era tão perceptível já que a moça estava sem calcinha e usava uma saia jeans que agora já tinha sido levantada.

- Caralho, tô sentindo seu pau estralar.

- Viu o que você faz comigo? - ela gostava de sentir esse poder que exercia sobre Harry.

- Eu adoro te ver assim, louco de tesão por mim.

- E não sou só eu que estou assim. - Styles esboçou um sorrisinho e sinalizou com a cabeça em direção a Zayn, que tinha a cabeça apoiada na parte almofadada do sofá, olhos fechados e gemia baixo enquanto se masturbava. O tesão de S/N aumentou quando viu aquela cena.

- Me fode, aqui mesmo. - exigiu e logo o professor desafivelou o cinto e baixou a calça e cueca, tirou os sapatos e as meias rapidamente enquanto a garota beijava ele com ferocidade. Mesmo com uma dificuldade tremenda para se concentrar, Harry conseguiu colocar a camisinha em meios às provocações e chupões que a garota deixava em seu pescoço.

- Senta, gostosa. - ele pediu entre um beijo e outro quando ajustou seu membro para que entrasse do jeito perfeito nela. E assim foi, os dois gemeram alto, fechando os olhos. S/N começou a rebolar devagar enquanto beijava aquela boca deliciosa. As mãos de Harry apertavam a bunda dela de maneira gostosa, deixando toda a ação ainda melhor. Ver tudo aquilo de camarote era um presente para Zayn, que aumentou a velocidade da punheta quando o casal elevou o sexo. Os gemidos da casa subiram de tom, assim como o calor do ambiente. - Isso, S/A.. cavalga no meu pau desse jeitinho. - toda as vezes que Styles falava ela dava tudo de si. Em certo pontos estratégicos o corpo dela tremia por conta das quicadas certeiras e sua cabeça ia para trás. Com Harry acontecia a mesma coisa, fazendo ele gozar antes dela. Somente na terceira vez que ela jogou a cabeça para trás que o orgasmo veio, e a sensação incrível de um sexo bem executado relaxou todos os músculos dela, que deitou sobre o peito ofegante do professor. - Caralho..

- Eu que o diga.. - comentou rindo. - Obrigada.. - ela deixou um selinho nos lábios dele antes de se levantar e ir até Zayn, também relaxado no sofá. - Agora é a sua vez bonitinho. - S/N puxou a mão dele, que se levantou e seguiu a garota até o quarto já conhecido. A professora deitou na cama, abriu as pernas e ordenou em bom som. - Me chupa. - Zayn, desacreditado com aquela cena e tomada pelo tesão, sorriu safado e passou devagar o polegar e o indicador da mão direita nos cantos da boca, encarando o corpo da mulher que ele tanto queria usar. Antes dele obedecer S/N, o rapaz tirou a camiseta de modo sensual, pegando-a pelo parte de trás da gola e jogou sobre o corpo dela. Ela sorriu quando pegou a peça e cheirou, sentindo o aroma de um perfume incrivelmente cheiroso. A parte de baixo saiu com facilidade já que foi tirada parcialmente na sala, assim como o par de tênis e as meias. Depois do pequeno striptease que a professora teve o prazer de observar e umedecer a intimidade, Zayn deitou parte do corpo sobre a cama, tendo os pés no chão, e lambeu a entrada da buceta devagar, sem tirar os olhos penetrantes de S/N. O corpo dela arrepiou com a primeira passada.

- Você ainda está quente. - aquela informação fez a garota gemer. - Quero te sentir pegando fogo. - disse antes da lingua começar a brincadeira. Zayn chupava com vontade de um modo que fazia os olhos de S/N rolarem enquanto gemia sem parar. Harry chegou alguns minutos depois e quando viu o que estava acontecendo seu pau enrijeceu de novo.

- Tá porra, que delícia. - comentou baixo massageado o membro.

- Deixa eu te chupar também, H.. - S/N convidou Styles para se juntar ao espetáculo. Ele ficou de joelho na cama, ao lado de S/N e colocou um travesseiro atrás de sua cabeça para que ela ficasse em um posição confortável. Ela lambeu o glande de Harry no segundo que Zayn sugou seu clítoris, fazendo a garota perder a cabeça e gemer alto.

- Vai conseguir me chupar gemendo desse jeito, lindinha? - Harry indagou provocativo e ela começou a lamber as bolas dele enquanto iniciava a masturbação. - Cassete.. você consegue tudo.. - ele jogou a cabeça para trás e gemeu também quando ela engoliu o membro, até se afogar.

- Caralho, S/N.. - nem mesmo Zayn conseguiu disfarçar o tensão quando viu aquilo.

- Ela é ótima, não é?

- Muito. - confirmou antes da lingua dele lamber com vontade a buceta dela, que gemeu com o pau na boca.

- É a professora mais safada e gostosa que eu conheço. - Harry falou e logo após gemeu quando S/N apertou o membro, tirando-o da boca para que pudesse pedir o que já não estava aguentando, mas o professor interrompeu antes mesmo dela falar alguma coisa. - Chupa essa vadia mais forte, Zayn, que ela tá adorando. - ele sabia o que estava fazendo e sorriu quando viu que S/N riu fraco, repleta de libido. Zayn obedeceu Harry e tinha como objetivo fazer a garota aliviar-se em seus lábios.

- Goza na minha boca, babe. - quando S/N ouviu a voz rouca de Malik, enquanto chupava Harry e tinha a visão do corpo e sorriso pecaminoso dele, ela liberou o gozo tremendo todo o corpo.

- Boa garota. - Styles puxou o cabelo dela de um jeito que fez o tesão ressurgir.

- Quer sentir seu gosto nos meus lábios, gatinha? - o convite proposto pelo moreno que havia acabado de chupá-la foi irrecusável e já sem forças S/N apenas concordou com a cabeça. Zayn veio para cima dela cheirando a luxúria e beijou a boca com uma pegada irresistível, trocando de lugar, agora com ela em cima dele. Harry por sua vez, aproveitou para apertar e beijar a bunda empinada dela, lambendo uma vez ou outra a intimidade ao tempo que movimenta de leve o clitóris inchado. S/N estava arrepiadíssima sendo agraciada por um beijo de arrancar seu ar e uma masturbação acompanhada de um oral singelo mas que estava mexendo com ela. Mesmo beijando Zayn, a mulher procurou por Harry pela mão e ele entendeu que era para se juntar a eles. - Você não se contenta apenas com um, não é? - questionou sedutor dando um riso que a matou de excitação antes de beijá-la com vontade. Agora era Zayn quem se deliciava com o corpo da mulher, chupando e mamando seus peitos. A cada gemido ela alternava o homem que beijava, crescendo o tesão em um nível tão intenso que ela nem pensou muito quando puxou os dois para beijar e um beijo triplo muito atraente aconteceu. As três línguas se encontravam em pontos diferentes e os lábios molhados davam um toque doce e picante. As mãos passavam pelos corpos sem saber quem era quem. Zayn e Harry também brincavam um com o corpo do outro, apertando a bunda e certos músculos, causando sensações inéditas e muito boas para ambos. Aquela parte foi de fato um evento a parte daquele espetáculo.

- Preciso de você dentro de mim, Zaddy. - o apelido dito pela jovem foi proposital e Zayn gostou muito disso, sorrindo ao se afastar dos dois e pegar a camisinha em cima da cômoda.

- Eu tenho que te ouvir me chamar assim de novo, babe. - disse com a voz aveludada enquanto vestia a camisinha recém aberta pelo boca dele.

- Me come, Zaddy! - S/N deitou sobre a cama, abriu as pernas e afundou a cabeça na cama, dando espaço para Harry chupar seu pescoço.

- Porra! - Malik tomado por uma vontade fora do seu alcance deu uma investida profunda nela fazendo-a choramingar de prazer. Harry saiu do pescoço para brincar com os seios dela, beijando, apertando e mordendo. Entre um gemido e outro ela puxava Styles para um beijo, enquanto ele se masturbava. Todos estavam tendo um momento de prazer. Zayn sentia seu membro pulsar dentro da intimidade completamente molhada e apertada da garota. S/N por sua vez era presenteada por colocadas intensas e beijos deliciosos, enquanto que Harry se divertia com o corpo de S/N ao tempo que brincava com o seu próprio. Muita coisa acontecia ao mesmo tempo e o ápice de cada veio alguns minutos depois, primeiro Harry, depois Zayn e em seguida S/N. Os três estavam mortos que deitaram na cama de qualquer jeito.

- Obrigado pelo convite, foi um show e tanto.

- Tenho que admitir uma coisa. - Zayn falou controlando a respiração. - Vocês dois tem muita química. - Harry olhou para S/N sorrindo maliciosamente e ela riu.

- A gente tem um lance meio único mesmo. - completou. - Que não dá para comparar com a loucura que tenho com você. - apontou para Zayn, que esboçou um sorrisinho orgulhoso. - É difícil para mim não se apaixonar por nenhum dos dois.

- Eu não ligo de sermos um trisal. - Harry brincou fazendo eles rirem.

- Tô com o professor. O que rolou aqui não pode ser descartado.

- Eu vou pensar na proposta de vocês. - ela se levantou, dando uma pausa para dizer a próxima frase. - Enquanto eu tomo banho.

- Sozinha? - a pergunta saiu da boca dos dois rapazes, um momento cômico fazendo S/N rir. - Eu preciso respirar, gente! - respondeu entre risos e entrou no banheiro, abrindo a meia porta logo em seguida. - Vocês podem preparar algo para comer enquanto isso. Tô morrendo de fome. - soltou um sorrisinho e fechou a porta definitivamente. Harry e Zayn se entreolhando com um sorriso discreto e divertido nos lábios.

- Ela manda assim em você também? - perguntou Malik e Harry concordou.

- E temos que obedecer né, afinal ela é a professora.

_______________________________________________

Feedbacks são sempre bem-vindos e de extrema importância para quem escreve. Se possível, não esqueça de deixar um comentário sobre o conteúdo lido acima na ask! Adoraria saber o que achou :)

xoxo

Ju

[mundodafantasia1d]

Like father like son: A true style

Harry deixou as malas ao lado da porta e a trancou, quando se virou viu sua esposa vindo em sua direção com o maior dos sorrisos no rosto fazendo com que ele sorrisse de volta. (S/n) se jogou nos braços do marido e respirou fundo para sentir seu cheiro, estava com tantas saudades.

- Eu senti tanto sua falta, babe - ele disse, sem separar o abraço.

- Nós também sentimos muito sua falta, meu amor.

- Como vocês estão? - ele separou o abraçou e se abaixou para ficar de frente a barriga de sua esposa. - Como tá a minha princesa?

- Continua sem deixar a mamãe dormir - Harry sentiu o chute do bebe em sua barriga. - Ela realmente gosta da sua voz.

- É a minha garota - ele sorriu para a esposa. - E o Percy?

- No quarto, passou o dia perguntando que horas o papai ia chegar.

- Eu vou lá ver ele, mas antes - puxou sua esposa para mais perto - eu preciso de um beijo seu.

- Sua boca foi de encontro à dela, dando início a um beijo cheio de amor e saudade. 

- Eu sinto tanta falta dos seus beijos quando to longe - ele choramingou após se separarem. 

- Você vai ganhar muitos outros beijos, mas agora vai lá ver o Percy, ele estava ansioso, disse que queria te contar uma coisa e não quis me dizer o que era - fingiu estar chateada.

- Eu vou cobrar esses beijos - deixou um selinho nos lábios dela antes de subir as escadas em direção ao quarto do filho.

Bateu na porta do quarto antes de abrir bem devagar, sorriu ao ver o filho sentado no chão rodeado de suas roupas, (S/n) ficaria brava por ele ter desarrumado seu guarda-roupas, mas aquela cena era tão fofa que ele não conseguiu se controlar.

- Papai - o garoto se levantou e correu para os braços do pai.

- Oi, filhão - ele apertou o filho em um abraço. - Você cresceu nesse tempo em que estive fora.

- Eu já sou grande, pai - Harry riu.

- Claro, e o senhor menino grande cuidou direitinho da mãe e da sua irmãzinha enquanto o papai estava fora?

- Sim, mas a Liz fica chutando a barriga da mamãe, eu falei pra ela não fazer isso mas a mamãe disse que eu também fazia, aí eu coloco suas músicas e ela para - o sorriso de Harry aumentou e ele ficou emocionado. 

- Eu vou ficar por aqui agora, não vou viajar por um tempão então quando ela chutar eu vou cantar pra ela.

- Você vai ficar aqui? - o garoto abriu um sorriso enorme.

- Sim, vou ficar com você, a mamãe e a Liz, nós dois vamos cuidar delas juntos e eu vou te levar pra escola e continuar com nossas aulas de violão.

- E de piano também?

- Claro, tudo que você quiser aprender - Harry se sentiu todo orgulhoso pelo garoto mostrar interesse nas mesmas coisas que ele. - Sua mãe disse que você tinha um segredo pra me contar.

- Não é um segredo - Percy ficou vermelho. - É só que eu queria que você me ajudasse.

- Claro que eu posso te ajudar, filho. Do que você precisa?

- Na escola, tem essa menina - Harry se segurou para não rir. 

- Ela é sua amiga? - ele fez que sim. - E é bonita?

- Sim - respondeu, timidamente. - É a menina mais bonita.

- Você gosta dela? - ele fez que sim de novo.

- Eu pedi pra mamãe comprar chocolates - ele apontou para a caixa de bombons em cima de sua mesa, Harry sorriu orgulhoso e pensou “esse é meu garoto”. - A mamãe fica feliz quando você dá flores pra ela.

- A gente pode passar na floricultura na segunda antes de ir pra escola.

- Não, papai, amanhã é aniversário dela, a mamãe até comprou um presente.

- Você vai dar o presente, os chocolates e flores pra ela? 

- Sim, por quê?

- Você deve gostar muito dela.

- Eu quero que ela goste de mim também.

- Ela seria a garota mais boba do mundo se não gostasse de você.

- As garotas gostam de você, papai - Harry fez que sim, encorajando o garoto a continuar. - Eu quero ser igual a você.

- Isso me deixa feliz, mas cada um de nós é uma pessoa diferente, Percy, você não tem que tentar ser outra pessoa para que os outros gostem de você - ele olhava nos olhos do filho para ter certeza que ele entendesse. - Você já é um menino muito especial, Percy, ela tem que gostar de você pelo que é.

- Eu sei, papai, não quero ser outra pessoa, só queria ficar igual você.

- Como assim?

- É que eu não sei que roupa usar, você pode me ajudar?

Harry riu ao entender o motivo das roupas do garoto estarem jogados no chão.

- Vai ser um prazer te ajudar a escolher uma roupa.

Os dois se sentaram perto da pilha de roupas, Harry mostrava algumas peças para o garoto que fazia careta, ficaram lá por algum tempo até que o garotinho gostou de uma das combinações do pai.

- Você vai ser o garoto mais estiloso da festa -  ele bagunçou o cabelo do filho. - Amanhã vou te ajudar a arrumar esse cabelo.

- Obrigado, papai - ele abraçou Harry. - Você é o melhor papai do mundo - os olhos de Harry se encheram de lágrimas.

- E você é o melhor filho do mundo.

- Vamos dormir pra amanhã chegar logo.

Harry riu do garoto que correu para a cama.

- E vamos deixar essa bagunça aqui? A mamãe não vai gostar.

- É mesmo - ele fez careta.

- Eu te ajudo a guardar, vem.

Eles arrumaram as roupas de volta no guarda-roupas e Percy voltou para cama, Harry foi até ele e deixou um beijo em sua cabeça.

- Boa noite, filho.

- Boa noite, papai, dá um beijo de boa noite na mamãe e na Liz pra mim.

- Pode deixar.

Harry tinha um sorriso no rosto quando entrou em seu quarto, (s/n) já estava deitada na cama. Ele se aproximou e deixou um beijo em sua testa e outro em sua barriga.

- Percy mandou um beijo de boa noite pra você e um para a Liz.

- E então? Qual era o segredo?

- Não tinha segredo, ele só queria a ajuda do pai e não da mãe.

- Sua ajuda para que?

- Preciso de um banho, te conto depois.

- Você não vai me deixar aqui curiosa, não - ela reclamou, Harry sorriu e foi em direção ao banheiro ouvindo a esposa resmungar.

Ele voltou alguns minutos depois com os cabelos molhados, sem camisa, usando apenas uma calça de moletom e se deitou ao lado dela.

- Conta logo, Styles - ele riu da curiosidade da esposa.

- Ele só queria que eu o ajudasse a escolher uma roupa para ir na festa amanhã.

- Mas isso eu podia ajudar.

- Ele sabe que o pai tem mais estilo - (s/n) deu um tapa em seu braço. - Ele quer impressionar uma garota.

- Ele te disse isso?

- Sim, disse que gosta dela e queria minha ajuda porque as garotas gostam de mim.

- Eu literalmente dei a luz a uma mini cópia de Harry Styles - ele riu e ela acompanhou.

- Sabe como é, tal pai, tal filho - ele sorriu, orgulhoso.

- Só espero que a Liz puxe a mim - ela passou a mão em sua barriga e ele colocou a mão sobre a dela, sentiu o chute da garota na mesma hora.

- O papai tá aqui, filha.

Os dedos de (s/n) passaram a acariciar os cabelos de Harry que havia colocado a cabeça perto de sua barriga e cantava baixinho sua música, sweet creature, ela sorriu.

- Eu amo fazer turnê e ir ao redor do mundo, subir no palco e ver todos os meus fãs, mas não existe nada no mundo melhor do que voltar pra casa e encontrar vocês três, a minha maior riqueza está bem aqui.

Harry voltou a sussurrar a música depois dessas palavras.

Du 💛

[imagine-that-one-thing]

This manuscript, previously known as Her Majesty, represents countless hours of revision and transformation. Scenes and characters, along with their entwined plots, have been reshaped and refined. It's my hope that you, as a reader, derive as much joy from experiencing this story as I have found in crafting it.

•••

In the opulent yet perilous corridors of the royal palace, a story of love, deceit, and power unfolds with Anastasia at its heart. Once a commoner, her sudden and secretive betrothal to Harry promised a fairy tale ending. But behind the gilded doors lies a web of intrigue. Her Father and Parliment, cunning and ambitious nobles, expose Anastasia's sanity as a strategic deception aimed at barring her ascent to power. As her coronation approaches, Anastasia finds herself ensnared in a political chess game with the throne and her life at stake. Each player is ruthless, each move more dangerous than the last. With her legitimacy questioned and enemies closing in, Anastasia must navigate the treacherous waters of royalty to prove her worth not just as a monarch but as a leader worthy of her people's loyalty. In this gripping tale of betrayal and survival, the line between ally and adversary blurs, and the crown's weight tests the bounds of love and loyalty. Will Anastasia rise to reign as queen, or will the machinations of those around her lead to her undoing?

Harry X Anastasia || Royal Fanfic

•••

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

[harrysolaf]

ᒪᑌᑎᑕᕼ~OᑎE ᔕᕼOT

ᕼᗩᖇᖇY’ᔕ ᑭOᐯ

I was at the country club one afternoon after playing golf for majority of the day. When this girl named Harlow was working the bar that evening, and oh- she was pure seduction. My first that was ‘I could eat that girl for lunch!’ She was dancing so well and the conversation was so swell. That I had to take her back to my hotel room, and told her ‘that the room was under Claire because we were something rare.’ So, she called me when she got there and she tasted like she was the one. Tastes so sweet she dancing on my tongue. After that I couldn’t get enough it became a craving by the touch. From up the stairs, arching on the chair, and the pulling of the hair. I need the recipe so I don’t overheat. Telling her ‘let’s take this to the shower babe and take off your clothes. I’ll put them on the counter after I help you take them off.’

ᕼᗩᖇᒪOᗯ’ᔕ ᑭOᐯ

I’m saying ‘I’ll take pictures in your mirror if I can use you as a volunteer so we can become something extra rare.’

ᕼᗩᖇᖇY’ᔕ ᑭOᐯ

Here I was thinking this was going to be a one night stand but I’m saying ‘I’m interested in being more than friends on this thin hunch.’ So I can bend her on the craving of eating her for lunch. Yeah, she’s the one with the way she’s dancing on my tongue.

Hi you guys pls like and repost to help support my page

Love you xxxx

[little-big-fan]

Imagine com Harry Styles

Right time, right person

n/a: Alô alô graças a deux! Galera, sim, a cara nem treme de aparecer com mais um imagine do Harry. Parece que eu nem escrevo com os outros kkkkkk mas enfim, esse imagine é um pedido, espero que o Anony goste e vocês também! <3 Me digam o que acharam, e tenham uma ótima leitura!

Contagem de palavras: 2,707

Suspirei encarando a tela do telefone, o mais novo affair de Harry já estava em todas as redes de fofoca possíveis. Resmunguei e terminei de me arrumar, já estava com mais de meia hora de atraso. Pelo menos uma vez por mês, eu, Hilary, Luna e Claire nos encontrávamos, para colocar a fofoca em dia, ou apenas para tomar um vinho e rir de alguma coisa idiota. Aquela nossa “fuga” do mundo real era muito boa, e ajudava a encarar o próximo mês de convivência em nossos empregos. Todas nos conhecemos na faculdade há alguns anos, mesmo lugar onde conhecemos Harry, mesmo que ele não tivesse finalizado o primeiro semestre por conta da carreira musical em ascensão, fizemos uma amizade muito legal. 

Harry era mais próximo de mim que das outras meninas, passávamos muito mais tempo juntos em seus dias de aula, e depois que ele fora embora, nossa amizade permaneceu a mesma. Sempre dávamos um jeito de manter contato, fosse por mensagens e ligações quando ele estava disponível ou até mesmo marcar de ir em uma mesma festa para nos vermos por algumas horinhas a mais. Cheguei no pub e logo vi a mesa das meninas, todas acompanhadas de suas bebidas e já riam de alguma coisa.

— Quem é vivo sempre aparece! — Luna disse se levantando para me apertar em um abraço. Ela havia precisado faltar na última reunião pois seu filho pequeno havia ficado doente, então já fazia algum tempo que eu não a via.

— Do que estão rindo? — Perguntei me sentando na cadeira vazia entre Hilary e Clair.

— Do beijo ridículo do Harry, óbvio! — Hilary disse com a mão escondendo a boca, como se fosse um segredo.

— Eu ainda acho que ele foi obrigado! — Claire disse após dar um gole na bebida transparente. — Harry beija muito melhor do que aquilo! — Senti meu estômago embolar. Era sempre aquilo, uma delas sempre trazia aquele assunto á tona: o fato de Harry ter ficado com todas elas. Foi em épocas diferentes, claro. Luna fora há alguns anos, ainda durante a faculdade, seu marido nem desconfiava. Claire foi durante um show dele, eu acabei os pegando no camarim. E Hilary, fora a última a ficar com Harry, apenas alguns meses atrás, em sua festa de aniversário. 

— Com certeza. — Luna disse afastando a cabeleira loira, jogando para trás do ombro. — Nem parece o mesmo homem! Harry tem pegada, sabe muito bem o que faz… — Parou de falar para se abanar com a mão. Dei um sorriso amarelo para o garçom que se aproximou e deixou meu shot de tequila na mesa. Demonstrei com os dedos que gostaria de mais dois depois daquele. Fiz uma careta quando o líquido desceu queimando. Algumas das meninas riu, e voltei minha atenção para a conversa novamente.

— Ainda não acredito que você foi a única que nós que não ficou com ele, amiga. — Clair disse, colocando sua mão sob a minha em cima da mesa.

— Ah, eu não acho nada demais. — Menti. — Somos muito amigos para estragar assim.

— Amiga, muito pelo contrário, só ia melhorar. — Luna disse soltando uma risadinha.

Depois de mais alguns shots de Tequila, e um drink rosa que eu não fazia ideia do nome, marcamos a data da próxima reunião, dessa vez em alguma festa pois todas concordamos que precisávamos dançar. Cheguei em casa ainda sentindo meu corpo flutuar por conta da bebida. Depois de quase ficar presa do lado de fora, por ter uma dificuldade absurda para abrir a porta, entrei e me joguei no sofá enquanto me livrava dos saltos em algum lugar da sala. Resmunguei quando ouvi o som estridente do telefone, bufei e atendi sem ver quem era.

— Chegou bem? — Senti minha pele arrepiar ao reconhecer a voz rouca do outro lado. Olhei rapidamente para a tela do celular, a foto de Harry brilhava, e logo acima dela mostrava que já eram mais de duas horas da manhã.

— Cheguei sim. Como sabe que acabei de chegar? — Me sentei, tentando voltar à sobriedade para conversar com ele.

— Luna me avisou que você bebeu bastante tequila hoje. — Ele disse rindo pelo nariz, me fazendo revirar os olhos. — Desde que Joe nasceu ela parece mãe de todo mundo.

— Sim. — Suspirei.

— Tem plantão amanhã? 

— Não. Na verdade me obrigaram a entrar de férias. — Resmunguei. Depois de dois anos trabalhando direto no hospital, e fazendo todos os plantões possíveis, a diretoria me obrigou a tirar três semanas de férias, que começam amanhã. Por isso, bebi tudo o que tinha vontade hoje. 

— Sério? Quanto tempo você tem? — Ele perguntou em tom animado.

— Três semanas. — Resmunguei de novo. 

— Não quer vir passar aqui em LA comigo? Tenho mais dois shows e depois uma semana inteira de folga.

— Não quero atrapalhar sua folga. — Falei baixinho. Na verdade a tentação de passar uma semana inteira com Harry era enorme, mas eu não conseguia deixar de ter o sentimento de que estaria atrapalhando seu merecido descanso. Além de claro, sua privacidade.

— Não vai atrapalhar nada, sua boba. — Eu podia ouvir o sorriso em sua voz.

— Tá bem. — Suspirei, fazendo drama. — Eu aceito. — Ri alto quando ele fez um som de comemoração. — Amanhã eu dou uma olhada nos voos para LA, agora estou bêbada demais para isso.

— Deixa que eu resolvo tudo. Só faz a mala e traga essa bunda gostosa para cá. — Não consegui conter o sorriso. Por mais que nunca tivéssemos tido nada, Harry sempre fazia algumas piadas de duplo sentido. O que as vezes me deixava ainda mais confusa sobre ele.

Depois de mais alguns minutos de ligação, desligamos. Tomei um banho, tirei a maquiagem e me joguei na cama, apagando em poucos segundos. 

Acordei na manhã seguinte sentindo minha cabeça latejar como não fazia há anos, desde meu último porre. Tomei coragem para me levantar e fazer um café forte, que foi acompanhado por uma aspirina. No início da tarde, Harry me enviou uma mensagem, avisando que havia reservado um lugar em um voo apenas algumas horas mais tarde. Arrumei uma mala pequena muito rapidamente e me dirigi para o aeroporto.

Eram quase oito horas da noite quando pousamos. Peguei um taxi e me dirigi para o condomínio luxuoso onde Harry morava. Já havia ido lá algumas vezes, e minha entrada era liberada. Pedi uma pizza quando sabia que seu show deveria estar acabando, e fiquei esperando.

Harry entrou na sala carregando uma ecobag pendurada no pescoço, os cabelos úmidos estavam anormalmente soltos, provavelmente porque ele não queria ouvir mais um dos meus discursos sobre como sua presilha favorita era horrenda e ele ficava parecendo um cachorrinho de madame com ela. Levantei do sofá e corri até ele. Harry largou a bolsa no chão e me apertou em seus braços, tirando meus pés do chão.

— Não acredito que aceitou vir. — Falou ainda comigo no colo, seu rosto na curva do meu pescoço e a respiração quente fazendo meu coração dar um salto.

— Foi a bebida. — Provoquei quando ele me soltou, fazendo-o revirar os olhos. 

— Sua mentirosa, eu sei que estava morrendo de saudade de mim! — Disse apertando a ponta do meu nariz entre dois dedos. O sorriso aberto fazendo meu coração pular tão alto que achei que pudesse sair fora do peito. Harry se afastou indo até o sofá, e abrindo a caixa de pizza na mesinha de centro.

— Isso é verdade, mas eu não queria atrapalhar seu descanso, você trabalha demais. — Falei me sentando ao seu lado, e pegando um pedaço de pizza.

— Você nunca me atrapalha, s/a. — Disse sorrindo, antes de encher a boca. — Se tivesse me dito antes, podia ter dado um jeito de conseguir mais uns dias de folga. — Falou depois de engolir.

— Uma semana é mais do que eu posso pedir do seu tempo, senhor pop estar famoso no mundo todo. — Falei tomando um gole de refrigerante enquanto ele colocava a língua para mim.

Os dias se passaram como se o tempo voasse, faltavam apenas dois dias para que eu fosse embora, e a partida iminente já estava me assolando. Eu adorava estar com Harry, ele era sempre muito atencioso e engraçado, me fazia esquecer qualquer tipo de problema, e sua companhia era sempre muito boa. Ele era facilmente uma das minhas pessoas favoritas. Talvez fosse a favorita, mas eu calava meu coração idiota toda vez que ele tinha vontade de gritar isso.

— Isso está uma delicia. — Harry disse com a boca cheia de macarrão. Era uma clara mentira. Nossa tentativa de cozinhar nosso próprio jantar foi um caos, a massa passou do ponto, a cebola do molho queimou e faltava um pouco de sal. Harry abriu uma garrafa de vinho, que já estava vazia no balcão da cozinha, e então abriu a segunda que estava à nossa frente. Estávamos os dois sentados no chão da sala com os pratos no colo e dividindo a garrafa, bebendo diretamente do gargalo, enquanto FRIENDS passava na televisão.

— Oh! Meus olhos, meus olhos! — Harry dizia junto de Phoebe, me fazendo rir alto.

— Posso fazer uma pergunta? — O moreno pausou o episódio e me encarou. — Deixa pra lá… — Falei levando a garrafa de vinho aos lábios. Talvez fosse melhor parar de beber.

— Agora eu quero saber. — Ele disse erguendo uma das sobrancelhas, e colocando seu prato na mesa a sua frente.

— Por que… — Comecei e então fiz uma careta. Aquela era uma péssima ideia. — Não, esquece.

— Fala logo, s/n. — Ele disse me encarando com as íris verdes que eu tinha certeza de que podiam me fazer derreter em algum momento. Harry ajeitou sua posição, ficando quase de frente para mim.

— Por que você nunca deu em cima de mim? — Falei de uma vez. Harry tossiu, como se tivesse se engasgado com algo, e então me encarou. 

— Como? 

— É só… uma dúvida. — Dei de ombros, fingindo estar descontraída, mas na realidade cada músculo do meu corpo estava tenso. — Sabe, você ficou com todas as minhas amigas, mas nunca chegou em mim…

— Eu… — Ele começou a falar, o rosto levemente mais corado pela bebida alcoólica.

— Eu sei, na verdade. — Falei rápido, rindo pelo nariz. — Eu sou uma DUFF.

— Uma o quê? — Ele perguntou confuso.

— Sabe, a amiga mais feinha do grupo, que os caras se aproximam para poder ficar com as outras. 

— De onde você tirou uma merda dessas? — Ele disse rindo.

— De um filme. — Encarei meus pés, sentindo meu rosto aquecer.

— Está baseando a sua vida em um filme pra adolescentes? — Ele disse erguendo a sobrancelha mais uma vez, e eu me senti uma idiota. Não era para ter aberto a minha boca. Estava tudo tão perfeito, e eu tinha acabado de estragar com uma insegurança idiota. — Quer saber mesmo porque eu nunca dei em cima de você? — Ele perguntou em tom um pouco mais baixo, arrastando o corpo para perto de mim. Ergui meus olhos e encarei seu rosto bonito, sentindo minha pulsação muito acima do normal. Assenti com um movimento de cabeça, e Harry molhou os lábios com a língua antes de voltar a falar. — Porque eu sempre soube que no momento em que provasse um pouco mais de você não seria capaz de te largar nunca mais. Porque você merece um universo inteiro de atenção, muito mais do que eu posso te dar. Porque você assola todos os meus sonhos e as minhas fantasias. Porque você é uma médica brilhante e uma mulher melhor ainda. E principalmente porque eu não mereço sequer sonhar com uma pessoa tão incrível quanto você, s/n. — Suspirei, sentindo que em algum momento daquela fala minha respiração tivesse sumido. Harry proferiu cada palavra sem desviar os olhos dos meus, e meu corpo e coração reagiram a cada sílaba.

— Você não pode dizer uma coisa dessas e não esperar que eu te beije. — Falei baixinho. Harry estava muito perto, seu corpo um pouco torto. Me aproximei um pouco mais, tudo parecia em câmera lenta, poderia ser resultado do vinho, mas algo me dizia que era o efeito daquele homem sob mim. Inspirei o cheiro de perfume que exalava do seu pescoço, e vagarosamente aproximei nossos rostos. Harry encarava cada um dos meus movimentos com atenção, molhando os lábios mais uma vez. E então, fechei meus olhos e toquei sua boca com a minha.

Por alguns segundos ficamos daquela forma, e então, Harry ergueu as mãos, colocando-as em meu rosto e aprofundando o beijo. Era muito melhor do que em qualquer fantasia que já havia morado em meus pensamentos. Sua língua fazia movimentos lentos, explorando cada canto da minha boca. O gosto era de vinho e… Harry. Simplesmente incrível.

Ergui minhas mãos, levando uma até seu peito e a outra até sua nuca, puxando levemente os cabelos curtos, fazendo com que ele soltasse um suspiro.

Nos separamos sentindo falta de ar, ambos com a respiração acelerada. Encarei Harry com medo do que ele poderia dizer. Por alguns segundos pensei que fosse dizer que foi um erro, uma bobagem, mas não, ele abriu um sorriso lindo nos lábios levemente inchados e vermelhos, e então voltou a colar sua boca na minha, em diversos selinhos.

— Eu… — Ele respirou fundo, ainda sorrindo. — Sonhei tanto com isso. — Deu um beijinho no meu queixo, me fazendo sorrir. — Você não tem ideia.

— Tenho sim. — Falei mordendo o lábio inferior. — Desde que botei meus olhos em você. — Admiti. — Ficava me remoendo toda vez que alguma das meninas falava sobre você, sobre como você tem pegada, blá blá blá. — Falei revirando os olhos, sentindo minha língua arder com o ciúmes.

— Ah é? — Ele disse se aproximando mais uma vez. — E o que você achou? 

— Acho que vou precisar provar mais um pouco para saber. — Sussurrei, e então senti sua boca colar na minha mais uma vez.

Se alguém me dissesse que no final da minha primeira semana de férias estaria totalmente rendida á Harry Styles, e que nós iríamos parecer dois adolescentes se agarrando em qualquer canto possível, eu diria que essa pessoa precisava de um encaminhamento psicológico. Mas essa era a minha realidade. 

Havia voltado para casa assim que Harry embarcou para a Alemanha, segurando as lágrimas que queriam escapar, odiando ter que ficar longe. A verdade era que não havíamos denominado nossa relação, e que os últimos dias juntos foram incríveis, apenas me dando mais certeza de que estava apaixonada por aquele homem incrível.

Eu não queria impor nada a Harry, por mais que estivesse morrendo para saber o que aquela semana havia significado para ele, não tinha direito algum de questioná-lo.

Não faziam nem 24h que estávamos separados, e a saudade me assolava, me fazendo estar com um péssimo humor. Estava sentada na sala, trocando de canal pela milésima vez quando meu celular tocou, a foto de Harry brilhando me fez sorrir.

— Com saudade, love? — Suspirei, sentindo o frio na barriga costumeiro desde que ele me chamou daquela forma pela primeira vez.

— Morrendo. — Falei, automaticamente fazendo um beicinho.

— Eu também. Queria tanto você aqui. — Ele suspirou alto. — Assim que eu puder, quero ver você. Acho que vou morrer de saudade. — Ele disse em tom dramático, me fazendo rir. — Estou falando sério! Você é médica, deveria vir cuidar de mim! Sou um homem morrendo de saudade, posso sentir a vida se esvaindo do meu corpo. — Ele dizia cada vez mais baixo, me fazendo rir ainda mais.

— Eu amo tanto você. — Deixei escapar, automaticamente ficando tensa. Harry ficou em silêncio por longos segundos. Burra, burra, burra.

— Pega o seu passaporte, e entra no primeiro avião para Munique. — Ele disse sério. 

— O quê? 

— Eu quero que você pegue o primeiro avião pra cá. 

— Por quê? — Perguntei hesitante, meu coração ainda batendo forte demais.

— Porque eu quero beijar essa sua boca linda e dizer que eu te amo olhando no fundo dos seus olhos. — Por alguns segundos, pude jurar que meu coração tinha parado. E então ele voltou a bater tão forte quanto antes. 

Como na semana anterior, fiz uma mala correndo, contando os segundos para encontrar Harry mais uma vez. 

Eu não sabia como faríamos que aquilo desse certo, nossa vida era de opostos. Eu fazia plantões intermináveis em um hospital, e ele passava semanas viajando o mundo inteiro. Eu não fazia ideia do que seria daqui para a frente. Mas tinha certeza de que faríamos dar certo. O caminho até aquele momento fora longo demais, nutrindo um amor que eu sequer fazia ideia ser tão forte. 

Daria certo. Eu sei que daria.

[nightstars5]

Capítulo 1

Harry Styles

Subo os pequenos degraus do jato e tento me forçar em ao menos parecer carismático com o piloto e sua equipe que me esperam no topo da entrada da aeronave para me cumprimentarem e se apresentarem, sorrisos exagerados e bajulações, nada do que eu já não esperava. Interrompendo mais um discurso de como “será um prazer ter Harry Styles à bordo e blá, blá...” agradeço pela atenção e finalmente entro me acomodando em um dos assentos.

Meu motorista, Thomas, se acomoda em umas das primeiras juntamente de mais dois seguranças e não demoram a acharem um baralho para jogarem e se distraírem durante o vôo.

Afrouxo minha gravata e relaxo na poltrona estofada, um suspiro pesado escapa de meus lábios e fecho meus olhos por alguns instantes. Sinto o jato decolar e aquele friozinho no estomago aparece e logo some, momentos depois, uma voz feminina me chama atenção.

— Me perdoe incomodá-lo sr. Styles... — abro meus olhos me deparando com a aeromoça.

Seus cabelo prezo em um coque baixo bem feito, lábios pintados de um batom vermelho escuro, seu sorriso completamente intencional e sua blusa com os primeiros botões abertos revelando demais, deixa em evidencia todas as suas verdadeiras intenções: ser fodida por mim.

— ... gostaria de uma taça de champanhe? Temos também algumas opções para degustar se preferir. — e seu olhar predador me diz que não é dos pratos nos cardápios que me entrega que ela se refere.

Estou exausto e tenso demais, um dia cheio e corrido com toda essa mudança me faz querer relaxar de qualquer forma, pretendia apenas dormir, mas com a faca e queijo na mão, por que não adicionar algo mais?

Dou meu melhor sorriso para Natasha, como está escrito em seu crachá, e respondo.

— Apenas um champanhe. Talvez queira degustar algo... depois. — dou uma piscada e ela sorri, me entregando a taça de champanhe, saindo logo em seguida rebolando sua bela bunda realçada pela sua saia vermelha.

Termino lentamente minha taça de espumante, às vezes trocando alguns olhares com a aeromoça oferecida que também servia meus funcionários, esperando apenas o momento certo para atacar.

E não demora até que eu a veja seguir para o banheiro no fundo do jato, me ponho de pé e Thomas desvia sua atenção do jogo olhando para mim pronto para me servir, apenas levanto minha mão para afirmar que está tudo bem e ajeito meu paletó, seguindo na mesma direção que Natasha.

Me recosto na lateral da porta até que ela a abre para sair e se assusta assim que me vê.

Ao menos sabe fingir bem.

— Sr. Styles, precisa de algo? — pergunta sendo a mais solicita das mulheres.

Não digo nenhuma palavra e apenas a empurro de volta para o espaço apertado fechando a porta.

— Não quero perder tempo, sabe o que quero que faça.

A loira sorri de uma forma diabólica, seus olhos escurecendo de excitação e suas mãos hábeis não demoram a se desfazerem do meu cinto e liberar meu pau já duro.

Ficando de joelhos em minha frente ela passa a língua entre os lábios e me põe na boca, chupando como se sua vida dependesse daquilo. Fecho meus olhos jogando a cabeça para trás sentindo a sensação deliciosa que cresce aos poucos. Seguro sua cabeça a instigando ir mais rápido, o calor sobe por minha espinha e não controlo meu quadril começando a foder sua boca, ela se engasga, mas não me impede de continuar, a afasto minimamente para que tome um pouco de folego e logo ela volta a me chupar, me fazendo chegar cada vez mais perto.

— Porra... — praguejo quando sinto que não aguento mais e finalmente gozo em sua boca.

Natasha engole tudo e passa seu polegar pelo canto da boca, seu sorriso é largo, como se tivesse feito seu melhor nesse boquete para me impressionar, foi ótimo, mas já tive melhores.

Me ajeito para voltar para meu assento e antes que eu abra a porta, me viro para a loira que ajeita seu cabelo em frente ao espelho.

— Bom trabalho. — dou um rápido beijo sobre seus lábios borrados e saio do cubículo.

///

Ao chegar em casa sou recebido por Joana, minha governanta. Uma mulher que beira seus 50 anos e que cuida da minha casa em Nova York melhor do que qualquer outra pessoa que eu poderia ter contratado na época e que de quebra acaba cuidando de mim, agora de forma definitiva.

— Como foi a viagem, sr. Styles? — pergunta me ajudando a tirar o paletó.

— Estou exausto, Joana. — suspiro — E morrendo de fome também. — sorrio como uma criança quando sinto o cheiro da comida deliciosa que deve estar sendo preparada.

— Sugiro que suba para um banho e desça para jantar, estará tudo pronto logo. — ela sorri e passa a mão por meu rosto — Que bom está de volta, querido.

— Digo o mesmo. — deixo um beijo em sua face enrugada e subo para o quarto.

///

Após um bom banho relaxante e jantar a melhor comida caseira que Joana sabe preparar como ninguém, finalmente me acomodo na cama com o meu notebook apoiado sobre minhas pernas esticadas enquanto verifico a agenda da semana enviada por minha assistente.

Meu celular vibra ao meu lado chamando minha atenção, pego o aparelho para verificar quem possa ser tão tarde e com uma risada fraca atendo.

— Sabia que iria esperar pelo momento mais apropriado para ligar. — digo ironizando.

— Vamos, Harry, não é como se já estivesse dormindo. — o homem resmunga do outro lado — Aposto minha parte na empresa em como está sentado em sua cama com a cara iluminada pela tela do seu computador.

— Acaba de perder sua parte, amigão. — brinco, rolando pelas páginas.

— Nem fodendo. — rio — Só queria desejar boa sorte nesse novo começo, meu amigo. É bom ter você por perto e finalmente agora poderemos assistir a todos os jogos!

— Obrigado, ainda tô me adaptando, mas não é nada que eu demore a me acostumar. Quinta dos rapazes?

— Quinta dos rapazes. — Augustos confirma — Agora vá dormir que amanhã teremos reunião logo cedo e quero estar disposto pra receber minhas filhas que chegarão também.

— Não me contou que estavam morando fora.

— E não estão. Enfim, amanhã conversamos melhor. Te espero na empresa.

— Até amanhã, meu amigo.

Olhando para tela do notebook, volto a revisar mais alguns documentos antes de finalmente desligá-lo e me deitar para dormir.

Eu estava em casa e estava feliz de certa forma, mas, ainda sim, parecia que algo ainda me fazia não me sentir completo, como se faltasse uma mínima coisa da qual eu não sabia dizer.

Que bobagem.

///

Acordo cedo como já de costume e tomando um rápido banho, me visto com uma calça moletom cinza e um casaco da mesma cor, calço meus tênis de corrida e pegando por meu celular e meu fone, saio para correr.

O ar puro e úmido das árvores entra por minhas narinas a cada respirar fundo que dou, renovando meus pulmões e me acalmando.

Ainda é muito cedo, mas há pessoas correndo sozinhas como eu ou com seus cachorros. Os pássaros cantam entre as árvores e alguns esquilos atravessam pelos caminhos do parque, é um momento calmo do meu dia, acordar cedo e sair para correr. Minha mente se esvazia e me permito relaxar por algumas horas antes de começar minha rotina tão cheia e corrida.

No caminho de volta para casa, paro em uma cafeteria e peço por um café forte, vou precisar bastante para o dia de hoje, cheio de reuniões e encontros com sócios, simpatias forçadas e...

Porra...

Meus pensamentos são interrompidos quando ao sair do lugar alguém se choca em meu corpo, fazendo o café cair e por tão pouco não derramar sobre mim me queimando.

— Droga, perdão. Eu sinto muito, a culpa foi toda minha e...

— É claro que foi sua. — digo ainda sem olhar para a desastrada — Eu não derramaria meu café de propósito.

Era só o que me faltava.

— Me desculpe, me deixe te pagar outro. — pede com um suspiro pesado, parecendo exausta.

Levanto minha cabeça para negar e lhe dar um sermão... Nossa!

Quão linda uma mulher consegue ser apenas com uma simples legging e um casaco moletom com certeza maior do que sua numeração?

Olhos de um verde tão singular que não havia visto nunca em outros olhos, sobrancelhas grossas, mas bem feitas, pele alva, livre de qualquer maquiagem, cabelos pretos, presos em um rabo de cavalo alto que deixa à vista mais do seu lindo rosto.

— Me dê um instante, eu busco outro par...

— N... — pigarreio limpando minha garganta que de repente parece seca — Não precisa, está tudo bem. — digo seco demais.

— Eu insisto.

— E eu torno a dizer que não precisa. Tenha um bom dia! — forço um mínimo sorriso e desvio do seu corpo pequeno, a deixando parada no mesmo lugar junto do meu café derramado.

Não me arrisco a olhar para trás, mas tenho certeza de que seus olhos confusos me acompanham até que eu vire a esquina.

O incidente de mais cedo some completamente da minha cabeça assim que adentro a empresa, cumprimento a todos e subo para o andar da minha sala.

— Bom dia, sr. Styles. Como vai? — Lyah, minha secretária pergunta assim que saio do elevador.

— Bom dia, Lyah. O que temos hoje? — pergunto passando pela ruiva que me acompanha assim que apanha a agenda sobre o balcão.

— Uma reunião em meia hora com os sócios da Industry LA, há alguns documentos que deixei em sua mesa que o senhor precisa revisar até o fim do dia antes da aprovação, é sobre o projeto de paisagismo urbano no Hilton. Às 16hs uma reunião online com os fornecedores e às 20hs jantar com o senhor Montanari na casa dele.

Deixo minha pasta sobre a mesa de cenho franzido sobre o último compromisso.

— Por que jantar na casa do Augustos está na agenda? — pergunto confuso, nunca marco na agenda meus programas pessoais.

— Ele me pediu para colocar, senhor. Disse que se não fizesse você arrumaria algum compromisso de trabalho para ocupar seu tempo até à meia noite.

— Velho filho da mãe. — balanço a cabeça com uma risada fraca — Obrigado, Lyah, me avise quando todos estiverem prontos para reunião.

— Sim, senhor. — ela sai fechando a porta atrás de si.

Desabotoou meu paletó e começo a ler os documentos deixados em minha mesa, fazendo anotações.

— Bom dia, meu amigo! — Augustos irrompe pela porta me tirando a atenção dos papéis em minhas mãos — Posso entrar? — pergunta já fechando a porta e vindo até mim.

— Como se já não tivesse entrado, não? — digo.

Nos cumprimentamos com um abraço apertado que me reconforta, senti falta desse velho que é muito além de só meu sócio nessa empresa.

— Acredito que Lyah já tenha te passado sua agenda. — cometa, se sentado na cadeira a minha frente.

— Não poderia você mesmo me chamar para o jantar em sua casa?

— Poderia, mas você inventaria alguma desculpa.

— Sabe que posso cancelar qualquer compromisso na minha agenda, né? Não é porque está lá que significa que vou seguir à risca.

— Você é o cara mais compromissado que conheço, Harry. Não aja como se eu não te conhecesse desde que usava fraldas. — diz relaxando sobre a cadeira.

E como eu poderia me esquecer? Augustus é como um segundo pai, que me acolheu na empresa se dedicando a me ensinar tudo e mais um pouco quando herdei após a morte do meu pai.

— Claro. — deixo uma risada escapar — Há algum motivo em especifico para o jantar ou só para matar a sua saudade de mim mesmo? — o provoco, vendo o homem dar uma risada e se levantar, seguindo até a máquina de café que fica mais ao canto da sala.

— Não se sinta tão importante, garoto. Minhas filhas chegaram hoje, quero matar a saudade delas, só te convidei para não se sentir excluído, filho. — diz ironicamente, me entregando uma xicara de café também.

E por um segundo me lembro de mais cedo, da garota linda e desastrada que me fez desperdiçar todo meu café.

— Ah, claro. Eu choraria no escuro do meu quarto. — reviro os olhos dando um gole em minha bebida extra forte.

Uma batida na porta chama nossa atenção e então Lyah aparece.

— Sr. Styles, Sr. Montanari, todos já estão prontos para reunião. — avisa.

— Certo, já estamos indo. — ela afirma e sai.

— Pronto para começar o dia, garoto? — Augustos pergunta, ajeitando seu paletó azul marinho.

Pego pelo meu pendurado nas costas da cadeira o vestindo e apanho a pasta sobre a mesa.

— Pronto!

.

.

.

.

Bem vindo ao primeiro capítulo de My Little Universe, espero que tenha gostado. Por favor, me deixe saber o que achou, a continuidade dessa história vai depender de você!

Até o próximo! ❤️

[hissizbirisisblog]

Özlüyorum seni durduramıyorum seni sevmeyi durduramıyorum...

[harrrystyles-writing]

oii cah, poderia fazer um concept hot (2 - 19) onde s/n é um pouco ciumenta no namoro e harry mostra para ela que ele não quer nenhuma outra mulher

Frases: Que parte de ' Eu quero você, e somente você' você não entendeu?/ Mas eu não quero ela, eu quero você.

Aviso: 🔞Conteúdo explícito.

NotaAutora: Gente faz um século que não escrevo um hot, então, não sei se ficou bom e digno para vocês então me perdoem 🥺💗 De qualquer forma, aproveitem a leitura.

Harry Concept # 28

Você nunca gostou de assistir às gravações dos videoclipes de Harry. Não porque não fosse fã do trabalho dele — você era.

Mas porque o ciúme a corroía por dentro em situações como estava vivendo, ver Harry tão próximo de outra mulher, ainda mais uma famosa e incrivelmente bonita como Dua Lipa, a fazia sentir seu estômago revirar.

Você estava nos bastidores, de braços cruzados, observando a cena que se desenrolava diante de seus olhos, os dois estavam no centro do set, a música sensual preenchendo o ambiente, enquanto o diretor pedia mais proximidade, seus rostos a centímetros um do outro.

Seu peito estava apertado, como se algo estivesse esmagando seu coração, o ciúme corroía cada pensamento lógico que você tentava ter, mas a imagem de Harry com os lábios quase tocando os de outra mulher a deixava sufocada, o nó na garganta ficou ainda maior quando a câmera capturou o momento exato em que ela inclinou-se mais para Harry e o beijou, mesmo sabendo que  tudo não passava de algo técnico, não conseguiu acalmar seu coração ciumento. Antes que pudesse pensar direito, você deu as costas e começou a andar rapidamente para longe, o gosto amargo da insegurança estava em sua boca.

Harry percebeu quando você saiu, ele te conhecia muito bem, sabia o quão  ciumenta era, sempre foi, de uma forma ele entendia isso, até achava fofo às vezes, mas agora, sabia que precisava resolver, então deu uma última olhada para o diretor, pedindo uma pausa e  correu atrás de você.

— Baby?! Espera.

— O que foi? — Você parou no corredor, sem nem olhar para ele.

— Tudo bem? — Harry segurou seu braço a virando para ele.

— Tá de sacanagem comigo? Por que me chamou aqui hoje? Só para ver isso?

— S/n, era só uma cena, você sabe disso, me desculpe eu não sabia que essa seria a cena que gravariamos hoje, se soubesse nunca teria te chamado, porque sei que não gosta, me desculpe mesmo, não fique brava.

— Me diz como não sentir nada quando você vê seu namorado beijando outra mulher? Porque eu não consigo fingir que não me importo.— Seu peito subia e descia rapidamente.

— Eu sei que não é fácil ver, mas você sabe que só existe uma pessoa que eu quero no mundo todo, é você.

— Será, mesmo?

— Que parte de 'Eu quero você, e somente você' você não entendeu?  — Ele se aproximou ainda mais, segurando seu queixo  delicadamente, forçando-a a olhar para ele.

— Mas ela é linda, vocês ficariam tão bem juntos. — Seus olhos brilhavam com as lágrimas. — Todo mundo acha isso.

— Mas eu não quero ela, eu quero você. — Secou uma lágrima insistente que saiu de seus olhos. — Baby,  entenda, eu sou louco por você, não importa quantas mulheres eu veja ou quantas mulheres eu conheça, nada muda isso.

— Então prove.

Ele sorriu, aquele sorriso malicioso que causava arrepios em você.

— Sua... —  Harry agarrou  seu pulso e puxou para a porta mais próxima, fechando. Você olhou em volta o que parecia ser um depósito. — Eu vou te lembrar o porque você nunca deve duvidar de mim.

Você odiava o quão bom esse homem era em beijar, ele te deixava louca em segundos.

— O que há de errado com você? — Murmurou ele contra seus lábios. — Como pode duvidar do quanto eu amo foder essa buceta. — Ele puxou seus lábios com os dentes.

— Porque existe outras melhores. — Protestou.

— Não existe nenhuma… — Harry deslizou os lábios até seu pescoço, mordiscando a pele, a voz grave e carregada de impaciência —Nenhuma melhor que a sua, odeio que você não entenda isso.

— Mas… — Você tentou protestar, mas ele segurou seu rosto entre as mãos. , o polegar deslizando por seus lábios.

— Cala a boca… — Murmurou, descendo novamente pelo seu pescoço, causando arrepios a cada beijos e mordidas que deixava ali. — Antes que eu mude de ideia e não te deixe gozar.

No instante seguinte você estava seu rosto contra a parede fria, o corpo de Harry começou se mover bem atrás de você, sua mão descendo, percorrendo suas costas, seus quadris até sua bunda, dando um tapa forte o bastante para fazê-la formigar.

— Quero bem empinada, entendeu?

— Ok! — Respondeu ofegante, empinando sua bunda o máximo que conseguia, tonta com a maneira como ele estava te tocando.

Vagarosamente ele foi abaixando sua legging roxa  de ioga, sua calcinha de renda preta acumulando junto em seus tornozelos, ele molhou bem dois de seus dedos antes de entram em você, deslizando para dentro com facilidade, um gemido longo e choroso escapou de seus lábios.

— Não tô afim de ser atrapalhado agora e não tenho muito tempo.— Harry agarrou um bom punhado do seu cabelo para puxá-la ainda mais para perto dele. —Adoro te ouvir gemer e implorar por mim, mas fica quentinha?

Você assentiu mordendo os lábios, sentindo os dedos dele começarem devagar, mas depois  indo cada vez mais forte e rápido a cada vez que saiam e entravam em você, a sensação dos dedos longos dele te preenchendo era tão boa tão deliciosa, fazendo você se contorcer e  dar seu máximo para segurar todos os gemidos presos em sua garganta.

— Para de se mover. — Ele deixou uma mordida em seu o pescoço. — Se não eu vou parar.

A esse ponto tudo o que você sabia fazer era obedecer.

Seu clitóris precisava ser tocado, ele estava pulsando,  querendo aqueles dedos encharcados para fazê-la gozar.

— Harry....— Você choramingou, implorando para que ele fizesse alguma coisa.

— Fica quieta. — A outra mão dele cobriu sua boca.

Ele sabia que você não aguentaria mais, você estava pulsando, engolindo os dedos dele a cada vez que estavam bem fundo dentro de você, então ele os tirou subindo para esfregar clitóris tão perfeitamente, ele estava rápido e mesmo com você se contorcendo na frente dele não diminuiu o ritmo.

— Posso sentir que você está prestes a gozar. — Um arrepio percorreu sua pele, assim que sentiu a respiração quente dele fazendo você estremecer, suas pernas já estavam tremendo, seu orgasmo tão perto que doía. — Goze pra mim, baby.

Sua visão começou a ficar turva enquanto seus olhos reviraram, você sentiu aquela onde de prazer começar a invadir seu corpo, cada pedacinho de você sendo atingido por aquela sensação gostosa, sua buceta pulsando  enquanto os dedos dele ainda te fodiam durante o orgasmo, você gemeu contra a mão dele que te sufocava, enquanto os dedos dele desaceleravam ainda a fazendo tremer.

Estava tudo escorregadio e molhado e você tinha certeza de que os dedos dele estavam pingando.

Todos os seus músculos estavam doloridos, seu corpo inteiro mole, mal ficando pé, Harry a envolveu em seus braços a abraçando por trás com força, como se o todos lá fora não estivemos loucos procurando por ele.

— Você é a única que importa, nunca duvide disso...

Obrigada por ler até aqui,se gostou, considere deixar um comentário isso é muito importante para mim 💗

[finelinefae]

bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing

word count: 8.6k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)

a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !

this is part 1 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things. 

From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket. 

Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.

Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go. 

She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.

Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week. 

Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe. 

One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.

She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people. 

She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything. 

Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’. 

When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket. 

She read his bio beneath. 

‘Harry, 30

Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans

Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’

She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it. 

As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words. 

Harry: Hey, pretty dress

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric. 

Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :) 

Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.

Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?

Harry: Something along those lines

Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours 

Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials 

She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.

Harry: I’m even more impressed

She smiled, watching him type a new message. 

Harry: What brings you here?

She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it. 

Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company 

Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay? 

Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay. 

Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.

Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read 

Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx

Harry: No problem, love x

Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end. 

They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.

Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx

Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.

Y/N: omg really? 

Harry: What? You don’t agree?

Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater

Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say

Y/N: You think so?

Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something. 

Harry: Or the little deer from that movie

Harry: What was it?

Harry: Bambi!

Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi 

Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !! 

Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name 

Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi 

Y/N: Well what should I call you?

Harry: Anything you like, Bambi 

. . . 

Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering. 

It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did. 

And Bambi.

Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.

After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?

Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.

She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.

“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure. 

Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. ��You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.

She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. 

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving. 

He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”

“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.

Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.

Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”

He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.

Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.

Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.

Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.

They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.

In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”

His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”

“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”

Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”

Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?” 

“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.” 

She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.

“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.

“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.

She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”

“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.

. . .

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.

“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.

Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company. 

Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people. 

Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.

He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her. 

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.

When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.

But then he met his Bambi. 

He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head. 

Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office. 

He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about. 

Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows. 

He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath. 

“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. 

He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office. 

He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?” 

Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?” 

“Cancel them.” He shrugged.

His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card. 

He glanced at his phone when a text came through.

Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx

His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.

Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x

He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds. 

Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.

People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car. 

He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring. 

She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally. 

Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.

“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?

From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.

“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”

The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”

Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.

She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.” 

With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped. 

Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”

His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.

She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel. 

“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy. 

“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.

“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”

She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”

He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did. 

“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.

Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”

His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”

She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”

Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”

“Come work with me,” He offered. 

There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.

“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”

“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”

He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words. 

. . . 

Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean. 

A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.

She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.

She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.

And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went. 

Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry. 

Harry: Just outside x

She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door. 

The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”

Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?” 

“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly. 

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.

Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.

“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.

Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.” 

Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.

As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved. 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.

“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.

Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.

Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”

Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto. 

Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.

Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”

Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”

Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy. 

As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?

The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers. 

Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”

“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.

Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”

“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him. 

She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past. 

He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”

He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”

"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.

"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”

He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.

When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.

“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”

Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.

Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”

Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"

She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”

Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."

“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”

“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.

Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”

“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”

"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"

Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone.  But still, she couldn’t resist.

“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”

. . . 

Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.

The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary. 

“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.

Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”

She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.

“S okay,” He smiled. 

The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.

“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.

She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.

Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit. 

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."

She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”

In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.

Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.

"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”

Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.

As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb. 

Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.

[imagines-1directioner]

Love at The Second Sight - with Harry Styles

Situação: marido!Harry Styles x Leitora

Contagem de palavras: 936

Pedido de @httnathxs: Você está aceitando pedidos? Se sim você poderia fazer um imagine do Harry. Onde a S/n tem muita insegurança com o cabelo por ser cacheado e por isso ela faz progressiva ( lembrando o Harry nunca viu o cabelo dela cacheado e eles já se conheceram assim) aí quando ele vê o cabelo dela natural ele se apaixona duas vezes mais por ela.

N/A: Obrigada por enviar sua ideia, anjo. Gostei muito de escrever a história. Espero que goste do resultado e me diga o que achou :)

curte e reblogue o post para me ajudar 🫶

- Você tá preparada? - os olhos de S/N fitaram através do espelho o amigo e fiel cabeleireiro desde seus 15 anos de idade. A expressão da garota continha uma mistura de pavor e ansiedade. Uma ansiedade boa que trazia um leve frio na barriga e a boca seca, sedenta pelo o que estava por vir.

- Não me pergunta de novo, senão é capaz de eu desistir. - a risadinha mostrou um tom de verdade.

- Isso nunca! - protesta, levantando o dedo indicador da mão esquerda e com a direita logo pega a tesoura para iniciar seu trabalho. - Eu sonhei tanto que esse dia chegasse. - diz emocionado olhando o cabelo molhado e repleto de anos de química que ele mesmo realizou. S/N alisava o cabelo desde que se conhecia por gente. A progressiva já fazia parte da vida dela, que a própria dona do cabelo não se recordava como era seu verdadeiro eu. No entanto agora seria questão de tempo para ela se encontrar consigo mesma quando o barulho da tesoura foi ouvido e cortado a parte dos fios modificados quimicamente. De modo involuntário e inevitável de certa forma a mulher fechou os olhos, uma atitude em vão quando parada para pensar, já que ela não conseguiu visualizar o cabelo sendo cortado. Mas deixou o reflexo de seu cérebro tomar conta pelo barulho da tesoura sendo utilizada. Seu coração acelerou e uma sensação nova instaurou-se sobre seu ser, especialmente quando observou o chumaço de cabelo na mão do cabeleireiro ao final da ação. Por conta da transição ter iniciado há pouco mais de um ano, o cabelo dela estava gigante, mesmo cortando boa parte ainda sim o comprimento chegou aos ombros. - Você está livre! - Elton comemora e S/N dá um sorriso de alivio acompanhando de emoção, vista pelas olhos marejados.

A finalização foi seguida de um cuidado ímpar com cada cachinho, e ao final da experiência S/N não acreditou quando finalmente viu seu reflexo naquele espelho imenso. Na verdade ela não reconhecia aquele cabelo, aquela S/N. Ela estava radiante, com um volume estrondoso e impecável que realçava seu rosto, especialmente seus olhos, que por conta da situação continham gotas aprisionadas até a primeira lágrima cair lentamente. O amigo, que viu aquela menina crescer, não conseguiu segurar a emoção e chorou com ela.

- Obrigada… - a jovem diz com a voz embargada e um sorriso lindo nos lábios.

Ao chegar em casa, S/N queria fazer uma surpresa para todos que a conheciam com o cabelo liso. E o primeiro deles era seu esposo. Harry havia um compromisso na casa de um dos amigos que casaria na semana que vem, e como padrinho tinha de comparecer ao último ensaio da cerimônia. Contudo a mulher não acreditou quando ele disse que seria rápido, surpreendendo-se quando percebeu que o rapaz já havia voltado da reunião, mas estava no banho quando ela entrou.

Animada por ainda sim conseguir realizar a surpresa, a garota imaginou por uns dez minutos como prepará-la, e decidiu que só apareceria para Harry quando ele descesse as escadas e a encontrasse na sala.

S/N deduziu que o chuveiro ser desligado já que não escutou sons de água escoando, e sentou-se no sofá, ligando a tevê “despretensiosamente”. Em menos de cinco minutos os passos descendo as escadas surgiram e antes de chegar no primeiro andar Styles grita.

- Como assim você já chegou e não…. - o moreno simplesmente perde a fala e trava no penúltimo degrau quando enfim visualiza a figura inédita da esposa. S/N conseguiu pegar todos os frames do marido surpreso, abrindo a boca e brilhando os olhos quando percebeu a mudança na jovem. O sorriso dela era gigantesco, contagiando Harry no mesmo segundo até os dois soltarem uma risada eletrizante. - Meu Deus! - fala deslumbrado, erguendo as sobrancelhas e caminhando devagar até o sofá. - Você tá tão, mais tão linda, S/A! - a sinceridade foi algo genuíno que mexeu com a emoção já abalada de S/N. - E eu juro que não tô exagerando. - ela ri, um pouco envergonhada.

- Diferente né?

- Muito! - ele diz enquanto avalia o novo visual da mulher, agora mais de perto. - Posso tocar? - o modo como ele pediu foi extremamente fofo.

- Pode. - ela responde rindo, completamente derretida. Em seguida Harry afaga os cachos cuidadosamente e percebe a maciez incrível, além do aroma fresco que o cabelo carregava. Por fim, e com um sorriso de orelha a orelha ele segura o rosto dela com uma mão em cada bochecha e encara os olhinhos lagrimejados da garota.

- Acho que me apaixonei de novo por você, amor. - a moça ri encantada e ele a puxa para um selinho. - Esse cabelo combina demais com você! - permanece em silêncio enquanto as pupilas dilatam percorrem lentamente cada detalhe que antes ele não dava tanta atenção. - Sua boca, seu sorriso, seus olhos! Poxa, seus olhos estão lindos!

- Tá me deixando com vergonha.. - dessa vez ele se derrete por ela, abraçando-a forte e beijando seus lábios novamente.

- Vai se acostumando, porque eu vou te elogiar por muito tempo. Afinal, olha esse cabelo! - comenta empolgado. - Simplesmente perfeito em você.

- Desse jeito a minha insegurança vai embora.

- E ela nunca deveria ter existido. - reafirma o que ele sempre defendeu. - Sua beleza está mil vezes mais potente com esse volumão e cachos lindíssimos.

- Obrigada, meu bem.

- Agora nós dois temos cachinhos! - Harry chacoalha a cabeça mexendo seus cachos úmidos, recém lavados e faz a esposa rir e repetir o ato, a cena mais fofa de todos os tempos, que com certeza seria contada adiante durante os próximos anos de relacionamento do casal mais apaixonado do mundo.

_____________________________________________

Feedbacks são sempre bem-vindos e de extrema importância para quem escreve. Se possível, não esqueça de deixar um comentário sobre o conteúdo lido acima na ask! Adoraria saber o que achou :)

xoxo

Ju

[mundodafantasia1d]

Champagne Problems

Harry olhou para a mulher no banco do passageiro, ela olhava pela janela. 

- Olho na estrada, Styles - ela sorriu sem olhar para ele. 

- Desculpa - ele voltou a atenção para a estrada à sua frente. 

- Falta muito para chegarmos? 

- Não, estamos quase chegando. 

- Sua mãe não ficou muito chateada por termos decidido ficar no hotel, ficou? 

- Ela falou por um bom tempo mas entendeu que seria melhor assim, ela e a Gemma estão tão ocupadas com esse casamento. 

- Não quero nem imaginar o trabalho que elas estão tendo - (s/n) comentou, se arrepiando só de pensar.

Gemma, irmã de Harry, se casaria nesse fim de semana e essa era a razão pela qual estavam indo para a cidade natal de seu namorado. Eles optaram por ficar em um hotel, (s/n) queria evitar a confusão do casamento. Ela nunca gostou de casamentos, mas com certeza gostaria da festa.

Chegaram ao hotel no fim da tarde, arrumaram suas coisas e foram para o jantar de ensaio do casamento, Harry seria padrinho. Foi uma noite até agradável, tirando o fato de que seu namorado desapareceu e voltou dizendo que só tinha ido ao banheiro mas sua cara de quem tava aprontando o acusou, mas ela deixou para lá quando sua sogra perguntou sobre seu vestido.

(S/n) teve que admitir, o casamento foi lindo. Gemma estava deslumbrante em seu vestido branco, (s/n) sempre achou brega mas a cunhada estava irradiando uma luz linda. Todos pareciam tão felizes por Gemma e Michal e era possível sentir o amor dos dois emanar deles. (S/n) podia não gostar de casamentos e com certeza não queria se casar nunca, mas não era insensível à felicidade deles. 

E Harry estava tão feliz pela irmã, e ela amava ver Harry feliz. Eles dançavam em meio a risadas e (s/n) pensou que a noite estava impressionantemente agradável.

Até o momento em que a música parou e Gemma entregou o microfone para Harry. Ele parecia nervoso, suas mãos estavam suadas, ele segurava sua mão e sorriu para ela antes de dizer: 

- Antes de mais nada eu tenho que dar os créditos a Gemma que teve a ideia, você sabe que essas pessoas aqui são as mais importantes da minha vida e eu estou muito feliz por elas poderem presenciar esse momento - (s/n) ficou pálida na mesma hora e mentalmente implorou para que não fosse o que ela pensava que seria - Vou contar uma história, em uma manhã de terça feira, eu fui para a academia, treinei como sempre faço nas minhas folgas e quando estava saindo vi essa linda mulher na recepção da academia, usando roupas de ginástica, cabelo amarrado e com esse sorriso lindo que ela tem, sendo extremamente educada enquanto soletrava seu nome para a recepcionista - as pessoas ao redor riram, mas ela estava paralisada - Nunca vou esquecer esse dia, porque foi nele em que conheci a mulher com quem quero viver minha vida, cada minuto ao seu lado tem sido um sonho e eu nunca tive tanta certeza de algo na minha vida, como tenho de que você é o amor da minha vida, por isso eu tenho uma pergunta pra fazer - ele tirou uma caixinha do bolso e se ajoelhou, ela entrou em pânico - (S/n), você aceita se casar comigo? 

Podia ouvir os sussurros das pessoas ao redor, as reações de surpresa, os gritos de sim, mas tudo isso parecia tão distante para ela. Não soube ao certo quanto tempo ficou parada sem esboçar qualquer reação. 

- Posso colocar o anel da minha mãe no seu dedo? - Harry perguntou após um tempo já com o anel próximo ao seu dedo, mas ela puxou a mão imediatamente. 

- Não - sussurrou. 

- O que? - ele perguntou. 

- Desculpa - sua voz não passava de um sussurro. 

- (S/n), eu não estou entendendo. 

- Eu não quero me casar - ela deixou as palavras escaparem, rápida e atrapalhadamente, com os olhos fechados, pois não aguentaria olhar em seu rosto agora. 

- Você está negando meu pedido? - ele se levantou.

- Estou - depois de alguns segundos ela abriu os olhos e viu a dor em seu rosto, ele respirou fundo. 

- Ela não quer se casar comigo - ele disse para as pessoas ao redor que reagiram surpresas.

Ela não conseguia mais ficar lá, foi se afastando enquanto o via lá parado, a mão com a caixa do anel no bolso, o olhar triste. 

- Ela teria sido uma noiva tão adorável, que pena que ela não tem uma cabeça boa - ouviu a tia de Harry comentar.

Gemma espirrou e deixou a garrafa de champanhe que segurava cair, não iriam precisar dela de todo jeito, ninguém estava comemorando, nenhuma multidão de amigos estava aplaudindo, os céticos da cidade natal de Harry chamaram isso de problemas com champanhe.

Então ela foi embora.

Harry não foi para o hotel naquela noite e quando ela tentou ligar para ele na manhã seguinte, ele não atendeu. No dia seguinte, a mãe dele apareceu para pegar as coisas dele, ela tentou falar com a sogra que não quis a escutar. 

- Anne, por favor... - ela a interrompeu. 

- Eu não quero escutar (s/n), você magoou muito o Harry, em frente de todas as pessoas importantes para ele, não esperava isso de você. 

- Se você puder me deixar explicar. 

- Não é a mim que você deve explicações, é ao Harry, ele está na casa de vocês, se você o ama de verdade sugiro ter uma explicação muito boa para o que fez. 

Sozinha, ela decidiu reservar o trem noturno, assim ela poderia sentar lá com sua dor, multidões movimentadas ou pessoas dormindo silenciosas, não tinha certeza do que era pior. 

Chegou na casa em que vivia com Harry, não sabia se conseguiria encará-lo mas precisava tentar. Ele estava na sala, no escuro, com uma taça de champanhe na mão. 

- Harry - ela o chamou mas ele não a olhou. - Eu deixei sua mão cair, eu sei que te machuquei, eu juro que meu coração despedaçou quando te deixei lá, parado, desanimado, o anel da sua mãe no bolso. Seu coração era de vidro e eu deixei cair. Eu sinto muito por isso. 

- Desculpas esfarrapadas é tudo o que você tem? - a voz dele era baixa e rouca e ele não a olhou. - Palavras bonitas não vão amenizar a dor. 

- Olha, eu agradeço pelo que você fez, você tinha um discurso e eu deixei você sem palavras, mas... 

- Chega - ela se assustou com o grito dele - É você que tem um discurso aqui, aposto que veio pensando nele o caminho todo, pegou o trem noturno, evitou multidões porque sabe que agora todos falam disso, do papel ridículo que passei - ele se levantou e finalmente a encarou. - O amor escorregou além do seu alcance, se você tiver uma boa razão fala agora porque é a última chance de salvá-lo. 

- Eu não poderia dar uma razão. 

- Então vai, arrume suas coisas.

Ele a deixou sozinha e ela desabou. Horas depois ela chegou a um dormitório onde seria seu lar até colocar sua vida de volta nos trilhos, se isso fosse possível sem ele. 

“Este dormitório já foi um hospício” estava escrito em um canto da parede. 

- Bem, é feito para mim - ela riu sem graça, e o riso foi se transformando em choro. Até que dormiu.

No dia seguinte, todos noticiavam que Harry foi visto no aeroporto deixando o país, ela havia o perdido.

Era uma noite fria, algumas semanas depois de ter perdido o homem que amava, ela continuava no dormitório porque não tinha mais forças para seguir em frente, havia o magoado e tudo que merecia por isso era aquele pequeno quarto que já foi um hospício. 

Ouviu batidas na porta e se surpreendeu ao ver Harry parado bem ali. Eles não disseram nada, ela apenas deu passagem para ele, que entrou. Depois de se encararem por um tempo, ele respirou fundo. 

- Sinto sua falta - ele disse por fim. 

- Eu sinto sua falta também, Harry. 

- Por que? Só me responde por que, por favor - ele implorou. 

- Harry, eu não vou me casar, desculpa por te machucar, eu me odeio por isso, sei que essa decisão te causa dor mas você vai encontrar a coisa real invés disso, ela vai consertar sua tapeçaria que eu rasguei e vai segurar sua mão enquanto dança, nunca vai te deixar lá parado e desanimado, como eu fiz e você não vai nem se lembrar de todos os meus problemas com champanhe. 

Ele pegou sua carteira do bolso, a abriu e tirou a foto de (s/n) que ficava ali. 

- Eu nunca vou te esquecer, essa foto está sempre comigo porque é uma representação física do que está no meu coração, você. 

- Harry - ela não disse nada mais do que o nome dele. 

- Eu sei que você me ama, então por quê? 

- Pelo dinheiro, pelo show, pelo que quiser acreditar, só por favor, não insista, eu já dei minha resposta.

Aquela foi a última vez que se viram. 

Até que se encontraram novamente, um anos depois, na academia em que se conheceram. Ela o viu falando com a mesma recepcionista, viu quando ele pegou a carteira e a abriu para pegar o cartão e viu uma pequena polaroid cair, ele se abaixou para pegar e quando os olhos dele se levantaram encontraram os dela. Se encararam por um tempo, então ele levantou a polaroid mostrando sua foto, ela sorriu. 

- Posso te convidar para um café? - ele perguntou e ela concordou. 

Na cafeteria próxima à academia, eles ficaram em silêncio com os sentimentos gritando. 

- Você continua linda. 

- Posso dizer o mesmo de você. 

Os dois pareciam constrangidos, a situação toda era desconcertante e tinha muitos sentimentos no ar. 

- Eu nunca estive pronta, então eu assisti você partir - ela finalmente falou. - Às vezes você simplesmente não sabe a resposta até que alguém esteja de joelhos te perguntando. 

- Não foi a resposta que eu queria ter ouvido. 

- Demorou mais do que eu queria pra entender que a resposta para aquela pergunta vinda de você deveria ter sido sim, eu passei tanto tempo odiando a ideia do casamento, sempre quis ser independente até conhecer você e me apaixonar perdidamente, eu disse para mim mesma que estava tudo bem - ela riu sem graça. - Naquele dia, sua tia disse: Ela teria sido uma noiva tão adorável, que pena que ela não tem uma cabeça boa - os dois riram. - Ela não estava errada. Eu tenho traumas, Harry. O casamento dos meus pais foi o pior que podia ser, eu era só uma criança e estava escondida no closet tentando evitar os gritos, todas aquelas brigas e o ódio que eles sentem um pelo outro até hoje acabou com qualquer resquício de sentimento bom que eles um dia tiveram um pelo outro, o casamento acabou com o respeito que tinham e eu jurei pra mim mesma, no escuro daquele closet, que eu nunca me casaria - lágrimas escorriam pelo rosto dela. - Eu entrei em pânico, Harry, eu não queria que o que tínhamos acabasse, não queria que nosso amor virasse ódio. 

- Isso nunca aconteceria, o amor que sinto por você é maior e mais intenso do que qualquer sentimento e mesmo depois de você ter partido meu coração, eu não consegui te odiar, eu tentei mas tudo que sinto por você é amor.  - ela sabia que era verdade, pois podia ver em seus olhos. 

- Eu fui uma idiota, como eu pude achar que nosso amor não era forte? 

- Sim, você foi - ele riu - mas ainda dá tempo de consertar, eu ainda quero passar o resto da minha vida com você. 

- O anel da sua mãe ainda está com você? 

Ele se levantou, estendeu a mão para ela que a pegou e a levou para fora dali até o estacionamento da academia, onde o carro dele se encontrava. Ela esperou enquanto ele procurava algo lá dentro. Harry encontrou o que procurava, parou em frente a (s/n) se ajoelhou e a mostrou o anel de sua mãe. 

- Você aceita se casar comigo, meu amor? 

- Sim - ela respondeu com um sorriso enorme no rosto. 

Ele colocou o anel em seu dedo, serviu perfeitamente, ele se levantou e a pegou em seus braços. 

- Eu te amo (s/n) e sempre vou te amar, eu prometo que nunca vou te odiar ou deixar de te amar, não vou deixar nada estragar nosso casamento, será eterno.

- Eu te amo, Harry e vou te amar para sempre.

E eles finalmente se beijaram.

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Chapter 11 "Veil of Deceat"

Word count: 10,552

Harry x Anastasia || Fanfic series

Master Link || Chat with me

Imagine elegant ladies in their exquisite gowns, adorned with pearls and lace, gracefully gliding across the ballroom floor. The gentlemen, dressed in tailored suits, engage in witty conversations and charming dances. The manor itself is a sight to behold, with its grand architecture and lush gardens that invite exploration.

I take a deep breath and look towards Oliver who is anxiously tapping his foot waiting for my grand entrance to be over with. “At least you’re not adorned in a heavy dress expected to play the role of a Queen,” I smile towards Oliver. He side-eyes me and shakes his head. 

“You’re right, he just has to make sure you’re safe,” Harry comments as he takes me by surprise, startling me, “And by your reaction, you didn’t notice I was behind you, he did,” Harry gestures towards Oliver. “Now, do me a favour, don’t torture him with being a smartass, let him do his job without issues,” Harry informs me, causing me to roll my eyes. 

“You act like I am hell to deal with.” 

“You are,” both men say in unison, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t meant to reveal that,” Oliver instantly apologises, causing me to chuckle. 

“Then I am doing a swell job if you hate being on my service,” I grin, “It’s an honour, really.” 

Harry sighs and stands in front of us, looking us up and down, “I look ravishing, go ahead and tell me,” I joke, trying to break his stern look as he goes over Oliver's attire, making sure he looks immaculate. 

Harry ignores me and gestures towards Oliver's cuff links, “Your left cuff links are not hooked. Hook them,” Harry instructs and turns to look at me, “As for you, you’re missing an earring,” Harry comments. 

I take a moment and frantically look around the floor, hoping to find the sparkling piece near me. Harry chuckles, shaking his head, “You’re fine, I’m joking,” He informs me, “You look lovely, as always,” stepping closer and kissing my cheek, exposing us to Oliver who has questioned Harry’s relationship with me previously. 

“Good luck, I will meet you in there later,” Harry smiles, stepping towards the large doors. I give him a nod, allowing him to open the doors for me to make my grand entrance.

As the doors open, I step into the ballroom resplendent in my regal attire, entering the ballroom. I am instantly greeted by a thunderous applause that causes my heart to race and my anxiety suddenly spark, but I hold my composure... The event is a celebration of the kingdom's rich heritage and a testament to the grandeur of the royal family. It's a night of enchantment, where dreams come true and memories are made—- At least, that’s the picture we are trying to portray to the people. 

The reality is, that dreams are not coming true, it’s a nightmare, with no enchantment and the only memories being made are the ones filled with fake smiles and laughter. 

I swallow hard, taking slow and steady steps into the room, smiling and holding my head high, doing what I have been told to do for the last few days as we have prepared for this event. This is my first orchestrated event that I am flying solo on. My mother is here, but she is not the centre of attention, she is not the Queen everyone wants to see and interact with, it is me— the soon-to-be reigning Queen once my Father abdicates. This will be my life. Extravagant events, fake smiles and rooms of dignitaries I have to enchant. Despite everything looking pristine and perfect, I feel like this is a feeding frenzy and I’m the one about to be fed on. 

I look around the crowded ballroom, unfamiliar faces staring back at me as I clear my throat, grappling to find the courage to start my welcoming speech. My eyes dart around the room, finding every set of eyes besides the ones I’m looking for to calm me down. My heart sinks as I fail to locate the set of eyes that keeps me grounded on most occasions. I smile at the people before me and stand tall as I begin to welcome them with a pleasing smile and kind voice. 

As the night progresses, the ballroom transforms into a mesmerizing spectacle. A magnificent dance floor takes centre stage, where couples gracefully twirl to enchanting melodies. The walls are adorned with intricate golden accents, reflecting the grandeur of the occasion. Elaborate ice sculptures glisten in the corners, showcasing the kingdom's unique artistic prowess. Delicious aromas waft from the banquet tables, where an array of delectable feasts awaits the guests. The sound of laughter and joy fills the air, as guests mingle and share stories of the kingdom's rich history— a history they know so little about— a history that is tainted and following me around every corner. 

My heels sound against the delicate flooring and the hem of the dress bunches in my hand as I make my way to Harry’s sister who’s holding two glasses of champagne in her hands. She greets me with a smile and hands me a glass instantaneously, “I have to say, this is quite the event, even though I’m working.” 

“Well, have you found a good story yet?” I question, taking a sip of the champagne. 

She shakes her head, “No, I have a few good photos though. My brother has told me I can’t report anything after nine.” 

“Oof, such a bore,” I chuckle, “I have to go, if you see your brother, have him come and find me, please.” I politely request before moving on and making my rounds around the room. 

Suddenly, the doors burst open, revealing a mesmerizing fireworks display, illuminating the night sky with a kaleidoscope of colours. The royal event is a true testament to the kingdom's splendour and the unity of its people. Even if it’s a fake and forced unity, it’s still a unity. 

I grace the grand ballroom with my presence as the fireworks come to an end and I smile as Harry finally emerges through the gold doorways and makes his way towards me with a cup of coffee in his hand. “Coffee? Seriously?” I question. 

He nods his head, “With a shot of whiskey,” he responds. 

I raise an eyebrow playfully, accepting the cup of coffee from Harry. "Well, I guess a little whiskey in the coffee won't hurt," I say with a mischievous grin. As I take a sip, the warm liquid and the hint of whiskey send a comforting warmth through my body. "Thanks for coming down tonight, I know your shoulder is killing you," I say, appreciating his unwavering support. I know he had no desire to attend the grandeur of the royal event, and savouring the moments of joy amidst the complexities of ruling a kingdom that is not yet mine. 

I take another sip of his coffee, taking a moment to savour the rich flavour of the coffee with a hint of whiskey, letting its warmth spread through me for the last time. As the music swells and the crowd dances around us, Harry leans in closer, his voice barely a whisper. "There's something I need to tell you," he says, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and determination. 

My heart skips a beat, sensing the weight of his words. "What is it, Harry?" I ask, my voice barely audible over the lively music. 

"I stumbled upon a hidden chamber in the castle, filled with ancient artefacts and mysterious writings." My curiosity piqued, I lean in, eager to hear more. 

"It seems to be a forgotten part of your monarchy’s history, holding secrets that could change everything we know.” 

I look at Harry with a perplexed glance, “Are you serious?” 

“No,” Harry chuckles, “I’m joking, I’m going to go back to monitoring the cameras downstairs, do you need anything?” Harry responds. 

I shake my head with a small chuckle escaping my lips, “No. I’ll see you in my headquarters?” 

“Possibly,” he responds, “Depends how long it takes for us to get everyone out and sweep the grounds. I might just crash in the security chambers,” Harry continues. 

I nod my head in defeat but offer him a smile. He leans closer and whispers in my ear, “I love you, goodnight,” causing me to softly smile, the secrecy of nobody knowing about us making it more enticing and charming. 

As the grand ballroom doors swing open with a resounding crash, shrouded in a cloak of darkness strides in, commanding the attention of everyone present. Harry’s hands grip my hips and pull me into him. Gasps fill the air as the room falls silent, all eyes fixed on this captivating entrance. The atmosphere crackles with anticipation, and whispers of intrigue ripple through the crowd. 

My heart races as fear grips me. The man's sudden appearance sends chills down my spine as I’m unable to tear my gaze away from the ominous presence. 

With a sinister grin, the man begins to speak. “I’m going to reveal a shocking truth about the queen's lineage, casting doubt on her rightful claim to the throne,” the man announces. Although his figure is concealed, the voice sounds familiar. 

The mysterious figure's revelation hangs heavy in the air, my eyes widen with a mix of shock and determination. The announcement sends shockwaves through the crowd, causing whispers and gasps to fill the air. I try to maintain composure, the sudden urge to confront the dark-cloaked man, and the secrets of the family past he’s willing to divulge. I take a deep breath, my voice steady yet filled with an unwavering resolve. 

"I may not know what royal lineage you’re speaking of, but I have proven my worth through my actions and my lineage has no doubt over my claim of the throne. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding concept you speak of," I declare, my words echoing throughout the grand ballroom. 

The crowd falls silent, captivated by my sudden unwavering spirit. With grace and poise, I continue, "My family has dedicated their life to serving the people, and it is their unwavering support that makes us who we are." 

With a determined spirit, I boldly address the crowd, emphasizing the importance of my family's dedication to serving the people. However, a sudden shift occurs as Harry, wearing a stern expression, interrupts my speech. "Oliver, take her!" he growls, forcefully pushing me towards Oliver. He then marches through the crowd, heading towards the enigmatic man with an unwavering resolve. Within a blink of an eye, Harry is dragging the man out, closing the gold doors behind him, and leaving the ballroom in silence. 

“We can now get back to our event,” I announce, holding up Harry's coffee cup I managed to get a hold of before he stormed off with the unknown man. 

“Oliver, how the hell did someone manage to get past security?” I question as the chatter of the room begins and the orchestrated music plays. 

Oliver clears his throat, “I don’t know, I don’t know where the rest of our team is.” 

“Don’t you think you should find them?” I raise a brow, and Oliver shakes his head, “I think it would be a good idea.” 

“Princess, let Harry do his job. Right now, you’re my priority. Either you continue this event or you go to your headquarters.” 

“Did Harry tell you to say that?” I mutter, and Oliver grows withdrawn, refusing to answer. “It sounds like an ultimatum that he’d give.” 

“You’re making my job difficult, please turn around and do your job as an upcoming Queen.” 

I roll my eyes and mournfully listen. I turn around and begin my journey through the room, assuring everyone the man who entered was just a case of someone having one too many to drink. Harry’s sister makes her way towards me this time holding a plate of small desserts in her hand. “Well, I guess you found your story,” I begin, “And I don’t think it’ll cover the desserts.” 

“Quite a story, would be better if there was some truth to his words; however, I’ll have to take what I have.” 

“Mhm,” I hum. 

“If I don’t run the story, you know someone else will, right?” 

I nod my head with a sigh, “I know. I’m tired of being in the media headlines.” 

“Comes with the territory.” 

I lean closer to her, “Especially when I’m with a man whose sister is a lead journalist,” I whisper. “I guess it could be worse though,” I shrug my shoulders. 

“Oh, it can always be worse,” Gemma responds with a smile before stepping away from me... 

As the night continues to unfold, I gracefully mingle with the crowd, engaging in captivating conversations and leaving a lasting impression, hopefully. However, after some time, I discreetly slip away, leaving behind an air of mystery as I walk across the marble flooring of the hallway, Oliver heavy on my trail. I look over my shoulder to see him jogging towards me with a grim expression across his face. “Princess, slipping away is not acceptable.” 

I lift my shoulders into a shrug, “It took you six seconds to notice, that’s a pretty good record,” I smile at him without a care for how hard I make his job. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go to the security chambers.” 

Oliver blankly stares at me before he shakes his head. I raise an eyebrow, playfully challenging Oliver. "Come on, Oliver, We need to check the security chambers for any potential threats. It's better to be safe than sorry, right?" I give him a mischievous smile, hoping to convince him to join me. 

“Harry has it covered.” 

I let out an exasperated sigh and cross my arms, my frustration evident. "Seriously, Oliver?  You’re going to make this harder than it needs to be?” 

“You’re the one making it hard.” 

I give Oliver a determined look, my eyes narrowing slightly. "Look, Oliver, I understand you have your orders, but I’m going.” … “I will walk the tunnels myself.” 

“No,” Oliver responds. “It’s cold down there, the temperatures have dropped and I have orders to take you to your quarters.” 

I huff in frustration, my footsteps echoing with determination as I storm off towards Harry's location. Oliver's protests fade into the background as my determination fuels my steps. 

The coldness seeps into my bones, causing a shiver to run down my spine. The air feels icy, biting at my skin as  I navigate the dark tunnels. It's as if the very temperature reflects the tension and uncertainty that lies in the words the ominous man spreads through the ballroom. I wrap my arms around myself, seeking warmth and resolve to push through the frigid feeling of the tunnels. The dim lighting casts eerie shapes on the brick walls that I pass before I finally make it to the steel door Harry is behind. 

“Open the door,” I instruct as I peer over my shoulder at Oliver who is reluctant to my requests. He heavily sighs and swipes his card before punching in a code and pushing the door open for me. “Thank you,” I smile as I walk into the dimly lit room and see Harry swivel around on a desk chair. 

Harry raises a brow and Oliver puts his hands up in defence, “I had no choice, she wouldn’t listen to me and stormed down here.” 

“Anna, those tunnels are cold,” Harry disapprovingly shakes his head, standing up and taking his jacket off the back of his chair, wasting no time with sliding it up my arms. “I watched you from the cameras. Why are you down here?” 

“Can we talk? Privately?” I softly question and Harry’s eyes glance towards Oliver. 

Harry sighs, “Oliver, go scout the floors with Matthew, I have Anna from here.” Harry instructs and Oliver promptly ambles away, leaving the two of us. 

“Hmm, he listens to you, and not me.” 

“I have a little bit more power over him.” 

“Whatever,” I roll my eyes, walking into Harry and forcing his arm to wrap around me, giving him no option but to embrace my hug. 

I feel a soft kiss on the top of my head and his hand rubs my back in the silence before he places space between us and lifts my chin with his finger, “What is it?” 

“I lied to the crowd. What I said about my lineage having no doubt over my claim of the throne… I have doubts. I don’t want any of this and I have no choice but to handle it.” I softly inform Harry, “These events aren’t who I am but they’re all I’ll ever be. This is what we have to get used to.” 

“I think it’s been an interesting and slightly tough night for you and you’re tired.” 

“Don’t dismiss my feelings as being tired.” 

“Anna,” Harry begins, “I don’t have the words to make you feel better about becoming queen when your father decides to pass down the crown. I don’t have the words for the corruption or the utter bullshit that is happening.” 

I shrug my shoulders, “Do you have the words as to how the fuck someone got past security?” 

“They somehow used Pippa's badge and scanned that to get in. They calculated it at the right time for a shift change so nobody would be checking identification.” 

“How’d they get Pippa’s badge?” I curiously ask. 

“I’m not sure but she said she’d handle it.” … “She probably set it up, she keeps referencing the line to the throne being altered.”

“And you trust her?” 

Harry shakes his head, “No, but I have other things to worry about,” Harry responds, his eyes glancing towards a monitor before he steps away from me and takes a seat. “I’m pretty sure your Father set it up for publicity,” Harry informs me and I roll my eyes. 

“It was Syrus,” I sigh heavily. “The mystic cloak, the voice, the slithering in without being noticed. Wreaks of Syrus.” 

“Syrus wasn’t the man I dragged out,” Harry responds.

“I never said my fathers brother was the man you dragged out. Syrus orchestrated it but nobody will believe me because I’m just an insane royal.”

Harry doesn’t respond, he just sighs and shrugs his shoulders not too concerned about the events of this evening. 

The walls are lined with monitors, displaying surveillance footage from every corner of the Palace. The sound of alarms and the hum of electronic equipment fills the room, and Harry’s quick to silence the alarm, typing in a code that disables the sound coming from one of the monitors. 

I lift my dress and sit down in the chair beside him, swivelling around until Harry offers me his attention. “Baby, what is it you want? You’re distracting me.” 

I offer him a smile, “I’d like for you to come to bed with me.” 

“Anna, I can’t.” 

“You can,” I respond, not wanting to take his response for a solid answer, “I’m tired of the inconsistency and not being able to sleep with you. Getting together was meant to make things easier.” 

“Need I remind you that we are still together in complete secrecy because we can’t let the monarchy know?” 

“Maybe we should alert the monarchy,” I shrug my shoulders, “How much worse can it possibly get?” 

“Have you had too much to drink?” Harry questions, “We cannot announce this while your father has a lineage of men who you should be with.” … “men that are of royal title.” 

“I don’t care,” I respond, “Please, come to bed with me.” 

“I’ll escort you to your quarters.” 

I shake my head and stand to my feet, “Don’t worry about it,” I mutter, storming out and leaving him behind. 

*** *** *** 

There’s a crisp morning air circling the gardens this morning, the sun barely peeking through the trees at the mere hour of five-thirty. After last night’s incident, I went to my headquarters and went to bed alone, forced to dwell on my decision to keep our marriage a secret. At times, the secrecy comes with the potential to benefit both of us, other times it hinders our relationship in ways I don’t desire. Harry never came to bed, I assume he stayed in his apartment or he stayed in the security chambers, either way, I wasn’t pleased. 

I heavily sigh as Oliver explains another safety measure to me, “Oliver, can we call it?” I softly ask, tired, sore and exhausted from the last two days of safety training. Today is meant to be my last day for a while but I don’t have it in me to continue to physically do this. 

Oliver doesn’t give in, he shakes his head with no remorse.

I’m forced to fight back and manoeuvre my way out of the strong grip I’ve been thrown into, but I can’t. 

In a high-intensity training session, I find myself trapped in a body lock, Oliver having no desire to go easy on me. The body lock is a grappling technique where the opponent wraps their arms tightly around my upper body, restricting my movement and attempting to control me. It's a challenging position to escape from, but the determination and training are supposed to empower me to find a way out if I’m forced into this situation. With skill and agility, I use various techniques to break free and regain control of the situation. 

With determination in my eyes, I attempt to recall my training and swiftly execute a series of counter moves, breaking free from the hold. 

“Ah, you got me there,” Oliver chuckles, “Harry had to have taught you that one, that’s not part of our training.” 

I nod my head, “He does come in handy, sometimes,” I joke, taking a moment to breathe as Oliver looks at his phone, deciding on what to force me to do next.

Amid the intense training sessions, I find myself trapped in a powerful position. Despite my best efforts, I struggle to break free, feeling my strength wane. Oliver’s grip tightens, and my frustration grows as my attempts to escape prove futile. 

His arm is pressed to my neck and my back is forced against a tree, I have no room to escape. 

“Enough,” I breathe out, struggling to fight with my body and escape, the torture of the last few days playing hard on my body. I’ve been determined not to give up, not to allow the satisfaction of being weak to overrule me. “I am tired.” 

“You can keep going,” Oliver pushes. He’s sounding more and more like Harry each day and I’m not sure I’m a fan of it. 

As the future Queen, I am forced to undergo rigorous safety training with my security team. They ensure I am well-prepared to handle any potential threats or emergencies. From self-defence techniques to situational awareness, I learn how to protect myself and make quick decisions under pressure. The training emphasizes the importance of maintaining a strong security posture and being vigilant at all times. I’m expected to take these lessons to heart, knowing that my safety is paramount, but I despise it. It’s hard, it’s draining and time-consuming. 

The sound of leaves rustle in the background but I stay focused on my task. The final task seems to be unbearable. 

“Release her,” I hear Harry demand and Oliver shakes his head 

“Matthew said—“ 

“I said, release her,” Harry presses, eyeing Oliver before his grip is released and I take a breath, exhaustion making itself known. “You need to learn when someone has reached their limits,” Harry softly informs Oliver, “Read body language, she’s done, Oliver. Give her a moment.” 

“Matthew told me I had two more hours.” 

“I understand, but she’s not conditioned like we are.” 

“I can hear you,” I point out, interrupting the two men for a brief moment. “I’m fine,” I stubbornly reply, “Let’s go.” I gesture towards Oliver who looks to Harry for approval. 

Amid my rigorous training, I push myself to the limit, determined to master the technique. However, my body is starting to give in under the strain, and fatigue sets in. Harry, concerned for my well-being, urges me to take a break and rest. But I don’t allow myself to become subject to being weak. 

My frustration boils over as I stubbornly insist on pushing through. “Anna…” Harry begins, knowing the importance of balance, wanting to gently remind me that rest is essential for progress. Reluctantly, he stops himself. 

Harry lifts his shoulders into a shrug, “If she says she’s fine, go ahead.” Harry takes a seat on the garden bench with his coffee in one hand, one arm draped over the back of the chair comfortably. 

My body fights, each muscle doing its thing to prove myself of the task at hand. 

As I  train with my security guard, a chilly breeze cuts through the air, causing me to shiver. The wind whistles through the trees, adding an eerie soundtrack to the stormy clouds overhead. The surroundings feel charged with energy, mirroring our determination. 

Harry sits nearby, sipping his coffee, his eyes fixed on me with unwavering attention. The steam from his cup mingles with the cold air, creating a mesmerizing sight. With every sip, Harry's presence exudes calmness, offering a sense of reassurance and support. It’s nice to feel support and reassurance on days that I’m not quite sure I can handle. Despite this training being a relatively small task considering others, I find a sense of tranquillity with him silently watching. 

My chest heaves, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I fight the urge to quit. The intensity of the training has pushed me to my limits, and every fibre of my being screams for respite. “Oliver,” I breathe out heavily, shutting my eyes with great force and releasing all pressure I had held against his body, “Give me a break,” I mutter, struggling against his strength

“You’re doing well, keep going.”

I take a step back, feeling defeated and exhausted. The weight of Oliver's words hangs heavy in the air. "I'm not making any progress," I admit, my voice filled with frustration.

But Oliver's response only fuels my anger. "Would the person attacking you care if you’re making any fucking progress? No, they wouldn't, they won’t give a fuck," he challenges.

My frustration turns to desperation as I declare, "I'm done."

Oliver remains firm, his tone unwavering. "If you give up now, you'll have to start over, and I'll have to fail you."

I press my hands against my hips, a mix of disbelief and frustration bubbling within me. "You can't be serious."

But Oliver's response is resolute. "Harry and Matthew are strict about this."

Feeling overwhelmed, I plead with Oliver, my voice filled with exhaustion. "Oliver, I’m tired... Can't you please cut me some slack?"

I look at Oliver, feeling defeated and frustrated. He points towards Harry, who seems indifferent. "Ask him," Oliver says, motioning towards Harry.

Harry approaches, his response lacking sympathy. "Keep going," he says casually. "You didn't listen to me before, so no sympathy now. You asked for it."

I stare at both of them, my jaw dropping. "You're being really tough," I protest.

Harry's tone remains firm. "We don't have time to restart this. And I don’t have time to do it." 

Feeling overwhelmed, I let out a sigh. This challenge seems harder than I thought.

I look at Oliver and Harry, feeling the weight of their expectations pressing down on me. The frustration and pressure build up inside me, threatening to consume me. 

"You don't understand!" I shout, my voice filled with desperation. "I've been trying so hard, but it feels like I’m not enough. At this point it isn’t just physical, it’s mental. This is draining.”

At times, the toughness feels suffocating, like a heavy weight pressing down on my shoulders. I grumble and protest, my muscles burning with exertion. 

Oliver's stern expression remains unchanged. "We need results, Anna. We can't afford for you to not have the ability to protect yourself in unforeseen situations."

Harry's words cut deep. "You're letting yourself down, Anna. You’re getting inside your head. In a real-life event, someone captures you, they won’t care if you’re tired, they won’t care about anything besides using you as their hostage.” Harry  knows that the stakes are high, and he refuses to let me face them unprepared. And though his methods may be tough and brutal, he has a valid point. 

I nod my head, “Fine,” I reluctantly agree to continue. 

It isn’t long before I’m pressing on Oliver’s body, forcing him off of me, using the last of my strength, “Stop,” I breathe out, “Don’t fucking come near me,” I hiss, my head hanging low as I sink, needing a moment to rest.

“She’s feisty, finally,” Oliver declares as I glare at him. 

Harry reaches out and pulls me up, his hand a lifeline in my moment of weakness. "You passed," he says with a hint of pride. He doesn't coddle or sugarcoat; instead, he challenges me relentlessly, and will push me to my ends to make sure I have the ability to defend myself the best I can if things ever go south. 

But the nausea overwhelms me, and I cough, my glare fixed on both of them. "I feel like shit," I mutter, my frustration still boiling within me. They didn’t have to be such pricks.

Harry's response remains unwavering. "That's how you know you've pushed yourself and achieved something," he explains, trying to find the silver lining. “No pain, no gain.”

I can't help but mutter under my breath, "There's nothing to be fucking proud of," my words laced with bitterness.

“Do you not have anything to do?” I bitterly ask, tilting my head to the side to look at him. “Like a plane to catch?” I respond unhappily. 

“Lucky for you, my morning is clear for coffee and your training. Flight is later.” 

“Sounds riveting,” I roll my eyes. 

"Would you like me to walk you back?" Harry shrugs, offering his assistance.

I begin to respond, but the anticipation of nausea lingers, making me pause.

"Are you alright?" Harry asks, sensing my discomfort.

I raise my hand, signalling him to stop speaking, not wanting to hear any more.

I glare at Harry and Oliver, frustration bubbling inside me. The intense exertion has left me feeling nauseous and on the edge of sickness. I yearn for a moment of respite, a break from the relentless physical and emotional strain of the monarchy. The exhaustion weighs heavily on me, and the pain is almost unbearable. Is all this effort worth it? 

Is the relentless pursuit I’m going to endure from this monarchy truly worth it? 

I follow the garden path and wrap my arms around my stomach as the cold air whistles past me. “I never see you failing at this,” I softly mutter, disappointed in myself for not living up to the expectation I needed for the morning. “Even with your arm in a sling, and your shoulder broken, you can still outperform me and Oliver.” 

“I condition a lot more than you, it takes time,” Harry responds, his hand pressing to my back and beginning to rub soothing circles over it. “If it makes you feel better, I made Oliver throw up in the gardens the other morning, it was too hard for him.” 

“It doesn’t,” I groan, not amused by the comfort he is offering. 

“I’ve been conditioning for years, darling. None of this is new to me.” Harry responds with a reassuring tone, attempting to make me feel better about myself. His words carry a sense of familiarity, as if he's faced challenges far greater than this before. There's a quiet confidence in his demeanor, a hint of determination that speaks to years of rigorous training and discipline. 

A nagging thought tugs at the corners of my mind, a sense that there's more to Harry than meets the eye. His training, his conditioning—it all seems too polished, too precise, as if he's been molded into something more than just a regular person who became the guard of a princess.

I push aside the thought, dismissing it as nothing more than a fleeting thought, “I have a meeting in 20 minutes.” I sigh. “When is your flight?” 

“I thought we agreed you would trust me?” Harry responds, reluctant to answer my question. 

“It is a simple question.” 

“Flight is at four, don’t go and google the four o’clock flights to see where I am going either,” Harry mutters as I take the coffee from his hands. “You’re not going to—” 

“Ehhk, who drinks coffee straight?” I screw my nose up at his tasteless choice of coffee. 

“I was about to warn you that you wouldn’t like it,” Harry responds. 

“When shall I expect you back so I can plan accordingly?” 

“You’re going to make this really hard, aren’t you?” Harry questions, taking his coffee back and sighing. 

I don’t plan to make it easy, it’s hard to blindly trust people.

I nod my head, “Trust isn’t my forte right now, darling.” 

“I can tell,” Harry murmurs, shaking his head in disbelief.  

Harry’s pov. 

As Anna leans against the handrail of the elevator, I ask if she's listening to anything. She responds with a slight smile and confirms that she is. It's my responsibility to ensure she's dressed and ready for her meeting in seven minutes, but her schedule doesn't leave much room for anything else. I help her slide on her heels and hand her coat, which she puts on silently.

Despite my attempts at conversation, she seems distant and unresponsive.

Noticing her quietness, I take the moment to pry. "Is something wrong?" I inquire.

Anna does not answer. 

“Does this have to do with me leaving this afternoon?” 

She remains silent for a moment, taking a deep breath before shaking her head and swallowing hard. "Are you nervous?" I ask.

Anna shakes her head again, her gaze fixed on the slowly rising elevator numbers. "Don't let the doors open," she instructs me. "I know you can control them."

I comply with her request and ask for a minute of privacy through my in-ear communication device.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" I ask Anna. 

Taking a breath, she replies, "I have a meeting in four minutes." 

"And staying in the elevator will solve that?" I question. 

"I can't let dignitaries, parliament members, and others see me stressed," she explains, gripping the handrail tightly.

“Well, fuck, Anna,” I sigh, “Have you ever thought about fucking cancelling?” I challenge.

“Have you thought about being sympathetic?” She questions, "You might want to try it,” she coughs, compelling me to sigh. I rub my hand over her back, taking a breath and taking notes to adjust my tone. "I just- I need a minute" Anna informs me, resting her head on my shoulder. 

"You could skip the meeting?" I suggest.

Anna shakes her head. "No, if I miss the meeting, Pippa will speak on my behalf, and I don't trust her to do what's best."

"But does it matter if she makes changes?" I question softly. "Your Father is the King, and Pippa has to report to him. He'll be back soon."

Anna sighs, "Pippa is cunning and manipulative. She exploits the King's vulnerabilities and insecurities, but nobody believes me." ... "As for my Father, he may never return at this rate.. One day, you won’t either..." she trails off softly. 

There it is. The unwritten words of her mind. 

As I stand beside Anna in the elevator, I notice her leaning against me, her body trembling with what I assume to be exhaustion. “Nobody said anything about me not coming back, that is being a little overly dramatic.” … “Think we just pushed you too far this morning.” 

“Think I’m going to be sick,” she mutters, letting out a sigh before silence fills the elevator. She leans back against the railing again, and I cock my head to the side to look at her, unsure of how to fix the situation. Anna looks up at the ceiling, the chandelier glistening against the tapestry. 

As I stand beside Anna in the elevator, I can't help but admire the exquisite decor. The elevator is adorned with elegant vases, filled with vibrant flowers that add a pop of colour to the space. The walls are adorned with intricate tapestries, depicting scenes of grandeur and beauty. I’ve never understood why the elevators are highly decorated. I don’t really understand anything, I guess. “I’m coming back to you Anna… I always do.”

Anna looks towards me and takes a breath, “They don’t want me at this meeting. It has been made abundantly clear. They don’t want me as Queen. I don’t know why I bother… Well, I do but I don’t” avoiding the topic of me not coming back. She’s jumping from topic to topic like she doesn’t know where to put her time. 

“Since when have you cared what people want?” I ask Anna. “How do you know they don’t want you to attend?”

“Pippa emailed me her dissatisfaction of me being in control of the meeting and informed me how children should not run meetings or foreign affairs.” … “Nobody supports me.” 

“Anna… Who cares? Whether she likes it or not, you’re the next reigning Queen and commander in charge.” 

Anna lifts her shoulders into a shrug, “They don’t take me seriously. They don’t want me reigning. They think I’m incompetent.” 

“Well, first of all, you yourself don’t want to reign, second of all, make them take you seriously. Walk in that room with confidence. The person standing in front of me that’s scared and nervous is not the same person I have known.” 

Anna heavily sighs, her eyes meeting mine. This woman has always had a fiery fury to her, she has never been one to care what is said about her. Now, the woman who stands in front of me appears as though she has been beaten down and is taking every negative backlash the media and higher officials throw at her to heart. She’s holding it close and deer to her as if it’s what makes her who she is. The harsh words are defining her in her mind. She’s creating her own illusion and once everyone figures out their ploys are working, they’re going to feed off of it. 

I see her swallow hard and her eyes gloss over for a brief moment. She catches a crystal tear with her fingers, and I place an arm around Anna, holding her as she takes a breath. I don’t say a word, instead I give her the silence that I think she needs. She doesn’t need to be coddled right now. 

Anna adjusts her dress, and looking at me as if nothing happened, begins to speak. “Let's go, open the doors," Anna instructs, heading towards the elevator doors. She glances back at me and adds, "I'm running late." 

“You’re not serious?” 

I didn’t expect her to rebound that quickly and efficiently. 

“I am. I have places to be,” Anna responds, “open.” She gestures towards the doors. 

I promptly inform the security team through my in-ear device to open the elevator doors for us. Once the doors open, I smile at Oliver, “I will be just a moment, wait here.” I inform him before I guide Anna out of the elevator and along the hallway. Buckingham Palace has an impressive 775 rooms, including 188 staff bedrooms, 92 offices, 78 bathrooms, 52 royal and guest bedrooms, and 19 staterooms. However, the most significant room among them all is the 1844 Room.

I accompany Anna to room 1844 and she lingers outside the grand gold-trimmed doors, smoothing her coat and inspecting the crease. “You feeling okay?” 

“Harry, we are not going to speak of what happened,” Anna responds, “I’m okay.” 

I offer a reassuring smile and open the door for her. I follow her inside and quickly scan the room.

The royal meeting room is a breathtaking sight, with dignitaries from far and wide. The opulent decorations create an atmosphere of grandeur, while the exquisite tea foods tempt the taste buds. The room is adorned with an abundance of vibrant flowers, picked by Anna, adding a touch of elegance to the scene. It's truly a feast for the senses, a least for those who relish in the royal festivities and not those who live them daily. 

The walls of the royal room are adorned with exquisite tapestries, elegant paintings, and intricate wallpaper that tell stories of the past. The decorations are a symphony of opulence, with golden accents, sparkling chandeliers, and ornate sculptures. The furniture is regal and comfortable, with plush velvet chairs, polished wooden tables, and gilded accents. It's a majestic setting fit for a Queen. It's a true shame the future Queen doesn't care for the majestic or the ornate sculptures. 

The dignitaries in the room stand, growing impatient with the Queen's tardiness, exchanging glances of disapproval. Their expressions reveal their lack of impressed demeanour. 

Pippa informs Anna that she started without her, causing Anna to frown. Despite this, Anna holds her head high, nods, and welcomes the dignitaries. “I need to go, Matthew will stand in on this meeting,” I inform Anna, my eyes glaring at Pippa. “And yes, there has to be security personnel before you question it,” I speak directly to Pippa. 

*** *** 

I walk in and see Anna sitting on one of the pieces of furniture, her ankles crossed and legs slanted with her hands pressed to the hem of her dress. She appears stressed. "From your expression, I take it as it didn't go well." 

"She undermines my authority. She’s a sneaky bitch,” Anna mutters, unhappily. She’s cunning and she does it so well that she appears innocent. I know how Pippa behaves, I’ve fallen victim to her charm before. “She’s trying to say I have access to insider information. I’m the next fucking Queen; does she think I’m getting my information and knowledge from a bird?” Anna begins a rant. “She pointed out my past mistakes in meetings and threw all my perceived weaknesses on the table. Did you know that I don’t have enough foreign leaders up my sleeve and I’d destroy all our foreign relationships and allies if I became Queen? She has all the officials convinced that I’m not emotionally stable.” … “fuck, maybe I’m not.” 

“That’s… that’s a lot to process,” I stumble on my words, unsure of how to navigate the subject at hand. I feel like I’ve been thrown into a dark and raging ocean with no compass to guide me. One wrong word and Anna might fall deeper into a raging tangent. 

“I should have just let her have the meeting on her terms. I need my father to come back and handle the Palace. I want out.” 

I shake my head, “Don’t bow your head because of her. She’s a manipulative woman who thrives off of being a bitch. Anna you threaten the existing power structure, Pippa is going to try to discredit you in order to preserve the current order and protect her own interests. She only wants your father to reign because it benefits her… somehow.” I voice my opinion, something I tend to keep to mysel. Pippa is a person of political calculation, she is will calcualte every move she makes and her moves are always cetnrered around herself and her own benefits. You’re either with or against Pippa’s power and if you are against it, she will make sure you are on all firing lines until you retreat and bow down to her. 

The lady's maids gently approach Anna, their footsteps barely making a sound on the plush carpet and our conversation grows withdrawn. With utmost care, they place a cold glass of water beside her and begin to adjust the room. The room falls into a hushed silence as Anna closes her eyes, allowing herself a moment of solitude. “Can someone please cancel my events until this afternoon? I just want to lay down.” 

“I’m sure we can figure that out. Let’s walk to your headquarters,” I suggest, helping her to her feet.

The ladies gently guide Anna to her room. They assist her in removing her heels and settle her onto the plush bed and she offers them a small smile, “I’m fine, you don’t have to dote on me,” she assures them as they wait for some guidance of what she wants. I think she finds it just as awkward as I do. 

“Okay, I’ll be back when my shift ends,�� I inform Anna. “Don’t think you need me much further.” 

The lady's maids exchange curious glances, wondering why I’m suddenly showing such care and concern for Anna. I can tell from their expressions they can't help but question my motives, but they keep their thoughts to themselves. 

“Okay, I’m already late. Goodbye.” I mutter. 

The lady's maids' eyes widen in surprise as they witness me tenderly kiss Anna's forehead. They exchange knowing smiles, realizing the depth of our relationship. Their silent approval is evident in their subtle nods and warm glances.

*** 

I glance at the monitors, observing my girlfriend navigating the tunnels dressed in a black hoodie and pants, trying to blend into the shadows. "Let her go," I say with a heavy sigh. "Once the silent alarm at the exit door goes off, don't stop her. I'll handle it when she returns."

"Are you sure?" Ryan asks, his tone reflecting his surprise at my decision.

“Can’t cage a bird forever.” I reply, my gaze fixed on the screen, watching Anna’s figure move with a determined grace that both irks and worries me.

Ryan nods, although his expression tells me he’s not entirely convinced by my reasoning. “Alright.”

“Thank you, Ryan,” I say, feeling the tension ease slightly with his reassurance. My focus returns to the monitors, my heart heavy with a mix of emotions. Trusting Anna is one thing, but knowing the risks she faces out there, especially under these circumstances, is another. The cold of the chambers suddenly seems more biting, mirroring the chill of worry that settles over me.

Why does she have to do this alone? Why didn’t she trust me enough to tell me her plans? These questions haunt the back of my mind, but deep down, I know the answer. Anna has always been fiercely independent, often taking matters into her own hands. It’s one of the things I admire most about her, yet in moments like this, it’s also the most terrifying.

I return to my paperwork, my hands mechanically moving from one document to the next, but my attention remains divided. The monitor with Anna’s image becomes a constant lure, drawing my eyes every few minutes, tracking her every step as she navigates through the shadowy corridors of the tunnels.

[lukesaprince]

The Other Man H.S

Summary: Where y/n's husband opens up her marriage and she meets Harry on Tinder...

Warning: Smut, oral (f & m recieving), penetration, dirty talk (degradation & praise), spanking, squirting, I think that's it?

Word count: 13.5k+

Author's note: Hellooo long time no see! It feels like forever since I posted anything and I do apologise for that my brain was taking a hiatus apparently but hopefully I can get back into the groove! This probably needs editing but I hope you like it anywayy.

- Find my General Masterlist here -

“So… do you do this a lot?”

“What do you mean?” You took a sip of your wine, trying to sate the erratic nerves jumping within the walls of your body. Not even a few drinks before you arrived to your date could save you. 

“Go on Tinder dates.” 

Harry, the man who effortlessly charmed you when your friends encouraged you to swipe right on him seemed as relaxed as ever. He had this calm and sensual aura about him that existed through every little thing he did. His smile, the way he thanked the waitress, the way he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek and guided you to the table with a hand on the small of your back. Everything. 

It was all a little too charming for your first date back in the game. Part of you even wished it would be a disaster. Then you reminded yourself that there had to be a first date. That you had to reclaim your desirability and get back into the dating scene to find yourself again. It had been three months after all, nearly four since your marriage blew up in your face and everything about your life changed. 

You felt like you were ready. Or at least willing to give it a crack.

“You seem a little nervous, that’s why I ask. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Harry spoke up again when you didn’t answer right away. 

“You didn’t offend me,” you assured, blushing at the way you got so caught up in the attraction of him, “but is it really that obvious?” You shook your head, laughing softly like the idea of actually being on a date was unfathomable. It was. To you anyway; especially given the fact that the man sitting in front of you wasn’t your husband. “This is my first date in… a while.”

“It’s not obvious.” Harry laughed softly, running his hand through his hair. “But it’s okay to be nervous. I’m nervous too.”

“You are?” Your eyes widened, “it’s not because I’m married, is it? Because I put it in my profile and-”

“It’s not because you’re married,” He assured, interrupting your clear panic. He found it quite adorable actually. “It’s because I like you and I think you’re beautiful. I wouldn’t be here if I thought otherwise.”

Oh. 

Harry didn’t want to overstep. He had only been chatting with you for a week before meeting in person, but he already liked you, at least from the few bits of information he learnt about you. And you were quite pretty, insanely pretty actually. Harry thought you were attractive from your profile, but seeing you in person only solidified that. It would take some serious differences between you two for him to not want to pursue things.

But this was a first date afterall and he wasn’t going to put pressure on something so fresh. You were clear before even meeting him that you weren’t looking for anything serious and Harry was happy with that. Whatever the outcome of this date, he at least wanted to make sure you had a good time. Even if it meant you two never saw each other again.

“Oh.” You felt your heart hammering in your chest at the compliment. Even his eye contact was making you a jittery mess. Harry made you nervous. Giddy even and you had barely known the man a week. “Thank you.”

Carson still complimented you, even still said he loved you, but nothing really felt the same after he wanted to open your marriage. It was like a wrecking ball to your life. Your heart broke instantly and your self esteem took the biggest hit you had ever experienced. Your own fucking husband asking to open your marriage after nearly three years of being married, six of being in a relationship. How were you supposed to take it?

He gave you those same reasons many guys give when they want to open a relationship; that you just didn’t fulfill his needs sexually anymore and that he needed more to be satisfied. You tried to explain that you’d be willing to explore his fantasies if he just communicated them, especially since he had been the one leading a very vanilla (but good) sex life since you two got married, but he didn’t like that idea. 

You came to the conclusion there was someone else. Carson denied it and told you he still loved you, but you couldn’t ignore the gut feeling that this was all some fucked up coverup to excuse cheating. So you said no. Safe to say that didn’t work out because a divorce ultimatum and three months later and you were here, trying to reap the benefits from an open relationship you were too reluctant to explore. 

Carson of course was happy to follow the rules you two set and be out nearly every damn night with someone, but you could never bring yourself to do it. You were still hung up on the hurt and pure embarassment you felt being forced to open a marriage you thought was happy. In the end you realised that you deserved the pleasure Carson was getting from someone else. You deserve to be desired and taken out on dates. It didn’t seem fair that only one person was benefitting.

“You’re welcome, love.” Harry smiled, “let’s just not put any pressure on it, okay? No expectations or anything. We’ll just get to know each other and see where the night takes us.”

You liked the sound of that. You liked the sound of him calling you ‘love’ even more. 

“Okay,” you nodded, “I like the idea of that.”

“Good.” Harry raised his wine glass in a toast and you couldn’t help but feel a little mesmerised by the sight of his ringed fingers wrapped around the glass. Shaking yourself out of it, you raised yours as well. “To us.” He offered.

“To us.”

The date with Harry went far better than you ever could’ve expected. He was sweet and charming and all the things that drew you to him via text were even better in person. You two had far more in common than you realised and even the things you didn’t only added so much interest to the conversation. He made you laugh harder than you had for months and was the perfect gentleman all night. 

You two didn’t sleep together, not that you went into this date wanting to sleep with him anyway because you weren’t really sure what to expect, but you came out of it hoping he’d offer to walk you up to your hotel door and maybe continue walking you right to your bed. Harry didn’t do that of course and instead offered you a kiss on your cheek and an invitation for dinner again next week, but that only made you want him more.

Leading up to the date was so overstimulating and so much all at once that you decided to book a room at the hotel in the same complex as your dinner (which he so kindly paid for), just so you’d have time in a clean environment to process your thoughts afterwards. 

Carson was out with his girlfriend April tonight, as that’s what she was to him now, so he wouldn’t be home anyway. But you didn’t want to be getting ready in your own room near the bed you and your husband shared, only to return to it after a date that could’ve been terrible. You wanted something just for you so no matter the outcome and no matter how you felt about it, you had somewhere free from any memories relating to your marriage.

When Harry offered the second date, you told him you’d think about it. He understood, took it like a great guy (the bare minimum, yes, but you were also expecting him to be too good to be true) then waited until you were in the closing doors of the elevator to say goodnight. It didn’t take long after you were clean and in the comfort of a fresh Carson-free bed that you texted Harry to let him know how much you enjoyed the date and that you would like to join him for dinner next week.

He was nice and handsome and you had a really good time with him. The thought of seeing him again made you giddy and you wanted to hang onto that feeling.

Harry: I’m glad it didn’t take you too long to think about it. I had a wonderful night. X

You were practically giggling as you read the text, feeling like a little girl dating a cute guy she liked for the very first time. It was exhilarating. Only one date in and you already understood the appeal Carson was talking about, as much as you wanted to disagree with him.

You: I’m glad. Goodnight Harry x

Harry: Goodnight, love. Sleep well x

//

“So what did you get up to last night?” Carson asked, “you have a nice night away?”

“I went on a date, actually.” Your back was facing towards him as you unpacked your overnight bag. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically feel the surprise radiating off him.

“Oh, really? With who?” Carson walked around until he was in your eyeline. He was trying not to act surprised, but you could see it even better with him in front of you that he was. His tone didn’t come off judgemental though and if it did you’d have a few things you could throw back at him. He couldn’t really say anything when you had remained silent on all his flings and relationships. 

“His name’s Harry. I met him on tinder.” You shrugged, being honest but trying not to appear too excited about the whole thing. Carson didn’t need to know you thought about Harry before you went to sleep, or that you spent a good half an hour on the phone with your friends squealing about your date with him.

“That’s great.” Carson’s reply seemed genuine and he held that kind smile that you fell in love with. “How was it? Did he treat you right?”

“It was really good, actually,” you paused your unpacking and looked at your husband, seeing the kindness in his eyes as he listened attentively to what you were saying. You wished he’d look like that all the time. “He was the perfect gentleman and we’re going on another date next week.”

“He must’ve really liked you then,” he teased. 

Carson was just joking and being quite civil about the entire thing, but you still felt that churning in your stomach. It would never feel normal talking about a date with someone else, even if it was your date instead of his now. 

“I guess so. It was only one date though.”

“Did you sleep together?” Then came the dreaded question. 

You both agreed that you had to disclose when you slept with another person and a condom always had to be used. No details had to be shared and it was preferred that there weren’t any, but for your own health and safety, you had to share it with each other. It only really mattered when you two were having sex with each other, which, with work and Carson’s busy schedule with other people, only happened once a month if that on your scheduled weekend together. 

Opening the marriage seemed to completely eradicate that part of your relationship and while you were unsatisfied, you couldn’t really find it in yourself to try and change that. Not with Carson at least. 

“No. You know I’d tell you if we did.” You didn’t really want to talk about it anymore, not when this conversation was ruining your once-happy mood.

“I know,” Carson replied softly, moving forward to place his hands on your hips. “I love you, you know that. I hope you find some joy in Harry, or whoever. Whatever makes you happy, y/n. That’s all I want for you.”

That felt like the biggest load of shit ever but you chose not to say that.

So you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to remember when you used to do it and not feel a sense of dread. “I love you too.”

//

You went on a few dates with Harry. You tried to plan things around when Carson was busy so you wouldn’t be stuck at home thinking about what he was doing and that seemed to do the trick because you hadn’t thought about him once on any of the dates you had with Harry. 

Things had progressed to a goodbye kiss then a hello kiss when you decided to be a little brave and greet him with one when he picked you up one Saturday morning. And God Harry just knew how to kiss. Even a peck was delicious. His mouth was so soft and sweet and the way he held your face or your waist while kissing you made your entire body light on fire. The more time you spent with him, the more desperate you were becoming to sleep with him.

But Harry was such a gentleman. You didn’t want anything serious and he knew that and yet he hadn’t made the first move. Kissing you was as far as he got and when things started to get a little heated when you two said goodbye, it would always end far too prematurely for your liking. 

In your head, a lot of men just wanted to have sex and most of the time did anything and everything to get there before moving on once their post-nut clarity hit. That’s kind of what you expected from Harry. Someone so good-looking and out of your league could find sex easily so you assumed he’d be eager to sleep with you. That was part of the allure, wasn’t it? To sleep with a married woman? The nasty, scandalous thrill of being with someone that belonged to someone else.

Yet Harry never treated you like that, in fact, he didn’t even bring up your marriage unless you started the conversation. Harry just treated you like someone genuinely interested in getting to know you. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

It was only your third date. This conversation should’ve come up earlier, maybe even on one of the many text conversations or calls you had, but you were a little caught up in his charm and romance to think about it then and you wanted to see his reaction in person. In the very beginning you weren’t even sure if you’d be seeing him again but now that you were up to date three and he just never brought up the fact that you were married… well you wanted to know why. He knew your marriage was open but you didn’t quite understand why was he okay with it? There had to be a reason, right? 

“Of course you can.” He leaned back against the chair and tucked his elbow on the edge of the balcony you two were sitting at. It was a picturesque little cafe overlooking a river and it truly felt like you two were on some romantic holiday. The sun was gorgeous even despite the cold breeze and Harry looked effortlessly handsome. 

“Why do you… I don’t know how to put it.” You sat a bit straighter in your chair, fiddling with the rings on your fingers. Your wedding ring. You weren’t sure why you still wore it on your dates with Harry, but it was a habit and you were married. “You never bring up Carson or the fact that I’m married and I want to know why…”

“Why I don’t care?” He asked, finishing off your sentence. 

“Yeah…” You nodded, “I guess I just don’t get it. You’re a lot younger than me-”

“I’m 27 and it’s only five years.” He corrected, looking quite amused by your comment. Five years was a big gap when he was younger than you, at least you thought so. 

“Still.” You pressed, “You’re young and I’m married. I just don’t understand why you’re choosing to go out with me and not someone else. And the fact that you’re okay with my marriage it just… I don’t know.” You looked away for a moment, needing to break free from his eye contact so you weren’t completely swept up in it. “I’m not sure if I’d be the same. I’m not the same and I’m the one who’s married.”

“I’ve been married before…” 

Well, you certainly didn’t expect that.

“What?” Your eyes widened and Harry nearly laughed at how shocked you were.

“I was only 20 at the time and it was stupid to say the least but we were happy and in love and marriage seemed like the answer to all our problems.” He smiled at the memory, tracing his finger around the rim of his water glass as he thought back to that time in his life. 

“And it wasn’t?”

“No.” He chuckled, sighing while running a hand through his hair. “Marriage caused more problems than it was worth. Steph and I were broke and both in school. We could barely afford our degrees let alone rent and it just caused so many arguments. Too many arguments. We still loved each other and we made it work but over time… the love faded.” Harry shrugged. This felt like too intense of a conversation for breakfast, but you weren’t really expecting to find out about a marriage. 

“Wow…” You breathed. “I’m sorry. Um, how long were you two married?”

“Three years. We were just too young and going through too many changes. In the end, we were more like roommates than husband and wife. Didn’t have sex for the last six months because we were too busy working and emotionally disconnecting from each other.” He looked out to the water, turning back to finish off his point. “Anyway. What I’m trying to say is that shit happens. Relationships aren’t clear-cut. I can tell you’re not just trying to get some exciting thrill by cheating on your husband so as far as I’m concerned it’s just you and me.” Harry bumped his foot against yours under the table, smirking ever so slightly. “If that changes I’m sure you’ll let me know.”

Harry spoke about it in such a respectful way. You imagined it was far messier than he made it out to be, but he didn’t blame Steph or attack her character to make himself the good guy in all of it. It was refreshing and mature. Was it bad that him being married before only made him more attractive?

Maybe it was because you now knew that he understood you. 

“That’s a very… refreshing outlook, Harry.”

“Refreshing?” He chuckled, “No. Realistic.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table, nudging your foot again. “And to answer your other question, the reason I’m out with you and not ‘somebody else’ is because I like you. I told you that on our very first date and I’ll say it again. I like you. Simple.”

“You act like things are so easy.” You laughed, blushing at his honesty. 

“They can be.” He reached for your hand, threading your fingers together before squeezing. “It feels easy with you.”

Yeah… it did. 

To make things worse… or better? his admission only made you more insatiable for him. Nothing he said was remotely casual, but it had also been a long time since you were dating. Aside from Carson, only one other man had touched you, so you didn’t really have a good gauge on navigating new beginnings or sex with a new person. You knew how to please a man but all your skills were honed in on one man. 

So when Harry offered to host dinner at his house for your next date, your stomach was a mixture of nerves and pure excitement. You hadn’t been there before, but with his invitation to stay the night, you didn’t really care what his place looked like, just that he had a nice clean bed to fuck you on. 

You never thought you’d be in this position, but you also never thought you’d be in an open marriage with a man you imagined building a family with. You didn’t see that happening now, but what you did see was you enjoying yourself and getting to explore another man for the first time in years.

Harry wouldn’t have just invited you to spend the night if he wasn’t interested in sleeping with you. He didn’t fit into the dump-and-run stereotype you created in your head, but he sure as hell wasn’t uninterested in sex. He practically oozed it from his fucking pores. 

“Y/n!” Harry beamed, opening the door with a big charming grin. He looked gorgeous and you were taken aback at just how good-looking he was. He told you to dress casually and while he matched the criteria with a pair of jeans and a loose white button-up, he looked anything but casual. 

“Hi,” you smiled, stepping inside. You barely made it into the doorway before he grabbed your overnight back from your shoulder, slung it on his and then cupped your face to bring you in for a kiss. You gasped a little into his mouth, humming when you relaxed into it and grabbed onto the sides of his mouth to reciprocate. 

It felt so young kissing like this; languid and passionately right in the open doorway of his house where anyone who drove or walked past could see. But you didn’t really care who saw when he was nudging you against the doorway and crowding you with his body. It wasn’t an innocent kiss that’s for sure. 

His mouth moved expertly against yours, tongue sliding against the seam of your mouth until it was brushing against yours. He grabbed onto your waist, pulling you flush against him until he was consuming every part of you. It was delirious the way he sucked on your tongue and groaned at the taste of your mouth. 

If this was setting the tone for the evening, you could barely wait. 

“Did you miss me or something?” You joked, breathing heavily as the kiss broke. 

He smiled, nodding while running his thumb over your mouth. He dragged his eyes over your body, taking in your nice fitting jeans and top with the most perfect amount of cleavage he could die. You were radiant. “Very much so.” 

God.

“Come in, love. It’s cold out.” Harry stepped out of the way properly this time, closing the door behind you while you looked around his entranceway. 

“Shoes off?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” 

Harry walked you straight through to his living area. It was a warm, inviting home with soft lighting and lots of texture. He had a musical influence throughout but in the most tasteful way ever. Posters, vinyls and a gorgeous record player front and centre in his living room. His style was envying and you wished Carson would let you do even half the things Harry had done to his house. 

You could see yourself being very comfortable here. 

“Your house is gorgeous, Harry.” You complimented, looking around the space in awe. 

“Thank you.” He gushed, setting your bag down on one of his armchairs before walking into the kitchen. “I originally hired an interior designer then ended up picking all her opposite choices. I think I did an okay job.”

“I think so.” You agreed, following him to the island bench. The entire house was fragrant. It was a mixture of some citrusy candle, whatever delicious dish was in the oven and his cologne. It was intoxicating. “Ugh and it smells so good in here. What is that?” you practically moaned.

“Alfredo chicken pasta.” Harry mused, grabbing a bottle of red from his wine fridge. “I know you like it. Thought I should try and impress you for our first at home date.”

“So far it’s working. Just need to wait until it’s in my mouth for the final verdict.” You replied, pressing your hip to the bench while looking at him. “Can’t give you a raving review before I’ve tried it, can I?”

If Harry set the tone with the kiss, you set the tone with your words and those flirty eyes of yours. He pressed his tongue into his cheek, nearly audibly moaning at the double entendre. Harry had been holding back on how badly he wanted you since the first date. 

There was an instant fire between you. Chemistry he had been wanting to act upon for weeks. But he knew this was the first relationship for you since your husband suggested opening your marriage and he didn’t want to push things. You two spoke about it extensively after the third date when you wanted to clear the air to figure out what Harry got from this. 

Harry got pure pleasure. To him it was simple. He enjoyed your company and you seemed genuine in what you told him about your situation, so why wouldn’t he pursue things with you?

“You’re a smart woman.” Harry smirked, pouring the red wine into both wine glasses he had set on the bench before your arrival. “Actions speak louder than words, don’t they?” The way he looked at you nearly had you sweating. 

“It’s an age-old saying, after all.” You mused, thanking him once he passed you a glass. “To us?”

“To our first night together.” He clinked his glass against yours, eliciting a smile that had you trying to hide how nervous he truly made you feel. It had been a while since you got butterflies in the presence of a man. 

“Now, tell me all about your day. Must’ve been pretty relaxing if you had so much time to get all pretty for me.” He teased, reaching out to pluck at the hem of your shirt. 

“Yeah right.” You snorted, jumping straight into all the problems you encountered during your work day. 

Dinner went perfect as it usually did. You both laughed and drank and shared a delicious meal. By the time dessert came, Harry had moved from his chair opposite you to sit right beside you, deciding to play a game with the few mini dishes he made. He didn’t really explain why he chose to make multiple options, only that you had to guess what each one is. 

You weren’t really going to stop him from feeding you, were you? 

“Okay keep your eyes closed.” He prompted, walking over to the table with the long plate housing the mini desserts. 

“Okay! Okay they’re closed.” You shuffled in your chair, trying not to sneak a peek even if you wanted to. 

“Keep them closed.” He warned again, his arm brushing yours as he set the plate onto the table. 

“They are.” You defended. 

“How many fingers?” Harry sat right next to you, waving two fingers in front of your face. 

“Harry!”

“Okay.” He laughed. Harry grabbed one of the dessert spoons and took a small chunk from the first dessert before bringing it close to your face. “Any guesses?”

“Smells warm.” You guessed, breathing in the delicious cinnamon-or was it caramel? “Caramel?”

“Very good, Angel.” He praised, unintentionally making your breath hitch. That little bit of praise hit you right in the belly, making a swarm of butterflies flutter all over. “Open your mouth.”

Shit. If only he was asking you to open your mouth for something else. 

You did as instructed and widened your mouth, rubbing your palms up and down your thighs. He brought the spoon to your mouth, letting you suck it clean before removing it. “Do you have a guess?”

“Mmh.” You hummed softly, savoring the taste of the dessert you had on your first date. “Sticky date pudding?”

“Atta girl!” He cheered. “Well done.”

If he praised you one more time… god you almost felt pathetic at how turned on you were getting. And over food. 

“Can I open my eyes now?” You whispered, wanting to look at him. 

“Nope. Next one.” He took a spoon from the next dessert and repeated the same movements, holding it in front of your nose so you could smell it first. “What can you smell?”

“Custard maybe? Vanilla?” 

“Yeah… on the right track.” He mused, “open up.” Then once again he fed you the spoon. 

“Oh that’s so good.” You practically moaned, feeling his thumb brush against your mouth to wipe away a bit of custard. He sucked his thumb clean of it, watching you enjoy the dessert. Your moans of appreciation were hitting him harder than he thought they would but he just couldn’t help himself. You were moaning over something he made. He could only imagine what you’d sound like moaning over his cock or his mouth. “Is it… like a custard croissant cake or pudding? Whatever you call it.”

“You know your desserts. I’m impressed.”

“We had it on our second date, Harry.” And that’s when it clicked. “Are these desserts we’ve had on our dates?” 

“Maybe. Depends if you can guess the last one. Now open up pretty girl.” At his last instruction you opened your mouth and your eyes at the same time, looking right at him. “Heyy. That’s cheating.” He complained, feeding it to you. 

There was something erotic about the way you sucked that spoon clean, even going as far as plucking it from Harry’s fingers so you could get all the chocolate from it. “I knew it was chocolate pudding before you even fed it to me.” You whispered, looking down at the nicely plated dish. “Did you really make dishes we’ve had on our dates?”

“Maybe.” He repeated, scanning his eyes along your side profile. “Too much?”

No. Fuck, you were about ready to jump his bones. 

“No.” You shook your head and set the spoon down. “This is… this is really thoughtful. Thank you.”

It was romantic. Everything about this date was romantic. 

“You’re welcome.” Harry murmured, eyes flickering down to your mouth. A playful smile emerged on his mouth and you could just tell something was up. 

“What?” You chuckled. 

“You’ve got something here.” He reached out to cup your face, swiping your mouth clean like he did before. “See? Must’ve liked the chocolate pudding.” 

Before he had a chance to lick it clean himself, you grabbed his hand and brought his thumb to your mouth. His lips parted and his eyes darkened as he watched you wrap your lips around it, sucking on it gently. 

“It’s good…” you whispered, eyes fluttering when he cupped your jaw. The heat rising in the room was almost unbearable. Every second felt like an hour, every flick of his eyes between your own and your mouth like a century. The touch of his pinky grazing your neck had you shivering and all you wanted-no, craved was his mouth on yours. You bit your lip, releasing it with a pop before breathing out a soft laugh. “So are you going to kiss me or-”

You couldn’t say another word because Harry had already slid his hand back to thread through your hair and pulled you right in for a kiss. You whimpered as your lips met in a soft kiss. It started gently, but as the seconds went by and your hands ended up in his hair, it was getting hot and heavy. 

“Harry…” you sighed, breaking when you needed to breathe. 

“God I love kissing you.” He murmured, tipping your head back so he could kiss along your jaw towards your neck. 

“I…” you swallowed thickly while rubbing your hands down his neck towards his shirt buttons. You were desperate to see more of his skin. To feel more of it. “I want you.”

Harry paused, breathing heavily while pulling back to look at you. His lips were already swollen; all pink and yummy looking and his eyes had this dark look in them. It was a look you were sure you had given him countless times. When your heavy kisses got cut short or when you were forced to say goodnight when you really wanted to invite him in. You were sure you were giving it to him now. 

“I want you. Really fucking bad.” He admitted, reaching to push your hair back from your face. “I just don’t want to rush you, baby. I didn’t invite you over expecting anything and-shit.” Harry’s eyes widened as you bit the bullet and ripped your shirt off before putting it down on your lap. 

You were everything he imagined you’d be. No. You were better. Gorgeous in every way and in one of the prettiest bras he had ever seen. You could’ve worn anything though and he still would’ve thought that. But Jesus.  

“You’re not rushing me.” You whispered, “but I am wearing matching underwear so you can rush that if you want to…”

Harry swooped in again, holding your face in both hands to kiss you. “I want to.” He practically moaned, “but I’m not rushing anything with you. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

“Good.” You smiled softly, sliding your palms over his chest before undoing the top button. “Good.” You barely whispered the word before kissing him again. 

Harry pulled you closer by your hips, nudging your shirt to the ground so your legs thread into each other. He ran his hands over your torso, your waist and your arms while you worked on unbuttoning his shirt. His skin was warm and soft and you were addicted to the feeling of his chest hairs against your hands. 

He undid your pants, draping the zipper down before making the executive decision to stand up and force you up as well with his hands on your hips. Your pants and top fell to the floor with ease and he was quick to push the dessert plate and cutlery out of the way so he could pick you up and set you on the edge of the table. 

He was obsessed with how your body felt in his hands and under his lips and he wanted to explore every inch of you. He let his mouth trail along your collarbones and neck, down to the clevage spilling from your bra. You were so soft and sweet, so plush in his hands. Harry never wanted this to end and it had barely started. He hadn’t even tasted you yet…

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, y/n.” Harry breathed, taking a moment to just look at you. He reached in to kiss you gently while massaging your thighs, sliding his fingers so close to the edge of your underwear without brushing them at all. “Can I touch you?” 

“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck. That was when you caught sight of the twinking diamond on your ring finger. The reminder that despite all verbal permission given by your husband as per your arrangement, you were still going to sleep with another man while married. “Can I ask a favour, though. Before we… do anything?”

“Of course.” He urged, eyes softening. “Anything. What is it?”

His gaze was so soft… so endearing. Harry showed more care for what you were saying than your husband did in the months he was off dating other people. Probably for months before that too. 

You breathed out heavily, heart thumping in your ears as you pulled your ring finger off and played with it in your hands. “Will you put this in your pocket? I don’t want it on for this. I just want it to be you and me.”

“I’ll keep it safe.” Harry promised, holding his palm flat for you to put the ring on. “Even if you wore it, it would still be you and me, y/n.” He assured, sliding the ring into the tiny pocket at the front of his jeans. 

“It wouldn’t.” You whispered, smiling softly while reaching forward to kiss him again. “It is now, though.”

Harry moaned into the kiss, pulling you closer to him so he had better access to you. Then he went back to just touching you. Caressing you. He palmed at your breasts and your thighs and your belly… everywhere he could. 

Carson knew how to make you cum, but Harry didn’t and that was almost better. He didn’t skip through to the end, to what he knew would work. No, Harry took his sweet time running his hands and his mouth over your body, trying to figure out what you liked best. He wanted to memorise the little jerks or squeezes of your thighs the prettiest soft whimpers if he touched you just so. 

Harry loved the first time he slept with someone knew. It was a new experience and an entirely new set of likes and dislikes for him to explore. And after you dressed up so nice for him and wore what would’ve had to be the sexiest lingerie he had ever seen, Harry couldn’t have been more excited. He had been waiting for this since the moment he met you face to face. 

“What do you like?” Harry breathed, smoothing his hands over your stomach up towards your breasts. They slipped under the cups of your bra to push it above your nipples so he could pinch them in both hands. “Tell me. Please.” He was almost desperate, needing to know how he could please you.

“I like what you’re doing now. I like…” You swallowed, whimpering ever so slightly when he pinched your right nipple a little harder, “I like when you look at me…”

“What else?” Harry murmured, keeping his eyes laced with yours as he dipped down to tug at your nipple with his teeth instead. He soothed the ache with his tongue; all hot and slick. All you could think about was his tongue being somewhere else. Getting head was a rare commodity in your house. Carson was quite decent at it, actually, but it was one of those things where it took forever for you to cum. You both worked demanding jobs so when you got time or needed release, it was usually something quick to get the job done. 

But god, you’d kill to be eaten out. 

“Fuck…” you gasped, running a hand through his soft hair. While you were nervous about sleeping with a new man, there was one thing marriage life did prepare you for; saying what you wanted. You had no problems telling Harry exactly what you liked. “I like dirty talk too. I like to be praised…” you had to pause when he sucked on your nipple again, releasing it with a pop that had you shivering when the air hit the wetness left behind by his tongue. “Degraded too…”

“Yeah?” Harry cocked his head, smirking like you just unlocked something evil in him. “Anything you don’t like to be called?”

“Stupid. I don’t like being called a bitch, either.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, pretty girl,” Harry assured, tucking his fingers into the waistband of your pretty underwear and sliding them side to side against your skin. Harry would’ve loved to get you completely bare for him, but there was something so sexy about fucking you while you were wearing the lingerie. You wore it for a reason, it would be a shame to let it lay on the floor for the entire night, especially when you looked so fucking good at it.  “Tell me more. I want to know what I can do to you.”

“It’s too easy if I give you all the answers, Harry. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” You teased, sitting up from the table so you could run your palms all over his chest and up to around his neck.

He was just glorious. All tanned and muscular with littered hairs that made him look so much more manly. You could only imagine what his pecs would look like all sweaty while he fucked you. You hoped he’d hover over your head so you could lick at his chest and tug at that sinful cross necklace between your teeth. 

“Can I tell you what I want to do?” He proposed, hooking one finger on the underside of your underwear this time, moving it towards your mound but not down enough to feel how wet you had grown for him. He was so close to dipping his fingers into your crease. So close to being able to please you. 

“Please…” You breathed, eager and so damn desperate for anything.

“I want to fuck you while you’re wearing this,” he snapped at the fabric, maintaining direct eye contact with you. Oh, Jesus. Between his eye contact and his sultry tone, you were going dizzy at how direct he was being. You loved it. “Then I want to strip you naked and watch you bounce on my cock. Forwards… backwards.” He groaned at the thought and grabbed onto your ass, firmly pulling you closer to the edge of the dining table until his lips brushed with yours. You could feel the hard length of his cock press against your pussy, promising you that it would be deep inside you by the end of the night.

“I want to make your ass red so when you go home to your husband, he’ll know I fucked you better than he ever could.” 

It was another promise, that Harry would indeed fuck you better than Carson ever could. 

“But first…” Harry bucked his hips against yours, keeping his grip on your hips tight so you couldn’t wiggle away at his directed grinds over your clit. He kissed you gingerly, watching your eyes haze over as you whimpered softly. Between his cock and his words, your head was spinning. “I need to taste you. I’ve thought about nothing else but having my face between your thighs for weeks now.”

Harry grabbed your hands from behind his neck and pressed them down to the table on either side of your hips, bumping his nose with yours. “Do you like the idea of any of that, darling?”

You nodded eagerly, loving the sound of all of it. “Uhuh. All of it…” you inhaled a sharp breath, loving the feeling of his hands moving to knead at your inner thighs, “There is one thing though. Something I want.”

“Tell me.” He murmured, eyes wide and eager. He just couldn’t keep his hands off you. He was grabbing your thighs and your hips, craving the warmth of your body. 

“I want your cock in my mouth. I’ve been thinking about that since our first date.”

Harry smirked and you could feel the way his cock jerked right against you. It was big. You wanted to choke on it. 

“That can be arranged.” 

He reached in to kiss you again, groaning like a starved man while wrapping his palm around the back of your neck to guide you back down against the table. When you were flat he stood back up and stripped his shirt off fully, leaving him completely shirtless. 

Then he did something unexpected. With a shit-eating grin on his face he pulled up the chair he kicked away earlier and sat on it, shuffling close to the table like he was getting ready to eat a three-course meal. You were going to make fun of him for it, but you didn’t really get a chance when he slung your legs over his shoulder and nuzzled his nose right into the crotch of your underwear. 

“Jesus.” He moaned, eyes fluttering closed. Your jaw went completely slack at what you were witnessing. Never had a man looked so fucking hungry to eat you out. He was practically delirious and all he had done was inhale how sweet you were. Harry was looking forward to having your scent all over him. “You smell so fucking good, y/n.” He looked up at you again, hooking the very tip of his finger into the crotch of your underwear and sliding it up and down along your crease. “But do you taste as good as you smell?”

You nearly whined like some pathetic puppy, but you had to keep that inside as you didn’t want to appear too eager. Too easy. Truthfully, you were easy though. Harry was able to turn you on easier and quicker than you ever thought. And all over a little dirty talk and a slight obsession with eating you out. 

“Why don’t you find out?” You hiked yourself up on your elbows, bringing your feet off his shoulders and onto the edge of the table so you were spread wider for him. 

“Oh I will,” he pulled your underwear to the side, breath hitching at the first sight of your bare pussy. “You’re so gorgeous, y/n. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long… long time.”

When his mouth finally grazed your clit, you fell back against the table. You couldn’t hold yourself up even if you wanted to, not when he started eating you out like a damn starved animal. Harry moaned like you were the best thing he ever tasted and touched everywhere. He wasn’t clit happy or labia happy and he certainly didn’t miss-interpret one part of your anatomy for another.

“Fuck Harry… oh God.” You whined, pulling at his hair with both hands before suddenly letting go because you hadn’t asked if you could. You didn’t even know if he liked it. “Do you-” You could barely breathe let alone talk. “Can I pull your hair? Is it okay?”

“God, yes. As hard as you want,” Harry moaned like the idea of his hair being pulled was orgasmic. “Don’t stop, y/n. I promise.” He grabbed your hand and guided it back to his hair, giving you a reassuring nod before going back to your clit. 

Harry knew exactly what he was doing. How to tease, how to take advantage of your entire body to make you feel good. He kissed and nipped over your thighs and used his hands to squeeze your breasts and play with your nipples. It was all so wet and sloppy and you felt like your entire body was on fire. 

“God you taste… shit-” Harry broke for air, spitting directly over your pussy then spreading it around with two fingers, “you taste so fucking good, y/n.” He used one of those wet fingers and slid it inside you, pumping it a few times while slurping against your clit again. “Never thought a pussy could be so sweet… ‘m addicted.” 

He slid his second finger in easily, fucking you with both digits so good your arousal was echoing around the room. His high ceilings did wonders of making sound travel. Even with all the rugs and soft furnishing, the softest moan sounded so much louder. And you were anything but soft. Your noises were loud and unforgiving and every single one of them was going straight to his cock.

It also meant you heard every groan Harry made. Every single sound of pleasure he was feeling just eating you out. It was possibly one of the sexiest things you had ever experienced. A man with his head buried between your thighs moaning and being so fucking enthusiastic because he gained genuine pleasure out of it. He liked it. Harry ate you out like it was his favourite thing on planet earth. 

“You okay? You good?” He checked in on you, looking up at your gaped mouth and thrown-back head. You only moaned in response so Harry reached for your hand and threaded your fingers, squeezing them to get your attention. “Hey. Look at me.” He nudged, not happy with your lack of response.

You forced yourself to look down at him, nearly shaking at how intense his eye contact was. His (now) three fingers were still steadily fucking into you, but he had taken a much-needed break from using his mouth to check on you. “Good?”

“Yes. So so good. So good.” You nodded eagerly, trying to guide his face back to you with the hand still in his hair. “Just-please. I need it.”

“You need it?” He grinned, cocking his head ever so slightly. “Is it that good, baby? Do I suck your pretty clit so good that you need it?”

“Yes... Oh yes...”

“I need it too.” He admitted, dipping back in to swirl his tongue around his fingers, right where your poor needy hole was dripping with arousal. “You just taste so fucking good, y/n. I’d have you on my face every night if I could.”

You seemed to like that idea because he could feel you clench around his fingers, knees bumping into each other so his face was wedged between your thighs. Your underwear were a complete mess too; all soaked and creamy. Harry wanted to wring them with his teeth and suck them dry, but with the real thing pressed right against his nose, he didn’t have to. 

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Letting me eat your cunt every night? Every morning, even? Would you let me wake you up with my head between your thighs? Let me eat you for a midnight snack. Because I would.” Harry moaned as he wedged his mouth over your clit again, kissing and licking at it, spitting at it so it was even wetter. You were practically a sobbing mess above him too and that only encouraged him to say whatever he wanted.

“Y/n, I’d worship you and this pretty pussy.” 

He slid his fingers out just long enough to smack them against your clit. It was gentle at first and he quickly soothed the sharp sting with his tongue. But he felt the way you jerked around his head, how your hips lifted off the table to get more. 

“Is it okay?” He breathed, looking up for an answer. This time, you were already looking right at him. You had been from the moment he left your aching cunt empty and needy because you wanted to see what he’d do. And what a sight. You were sure you’d never forget the image of him smacking your clit then making out with it like a starved man. It was ridiculous. 

Harry Styles’ mouth would kill you one day. You knew it would. 

“More than okay.” You nodded, bringing your intertwined fingers up to your breast so his large hand would squeeze against your nipple. “Do it again.”

He followed your request quickly and spanked over your pussy again, this time a little harder and with more surface area of his fingers. You gasped out a moan, back lurching off the table as they hit your swollen clit. He quickly soothed the burn with his tongue, this time blowing on your sensitive skin for a moment before languidly tracing swirls over your clit.

“Again. Harder.” You gurgled out, clenching your fist into his hair when he smacked your clit again. Harder. He slid those three fingers right back into you again, curling and fucking them roughly right against your g-spot. “Oh God… Harry!”

“Oh, you’re such a good little slut letting me spank you like this. Right over your little clit too, hm? Who knew such a pretty girl would like such dirty things.”

The dirty talk… you were going to pass out.

“You’re taking it so well, y/n” He cooed, pulling his fingers out to spank you again before they returned deep into your pussy. It was dizzying. The way he spanked you then fucked you then spanked you again like some quick endless loop. He was careful not to hit you too many times, but whatever he was doing was making you reach your orgasm faster than any other oral you had received. 

“‘M gonna cum, Harry. Please just…” You pulled his face back to your clit, urging him closer with your hand.

Harry didn’t argue and did what you seemed to like the most; those three fingers stroking right against your g-spot, one hand on your breast and his mouth sucking right over your clit. It seemed to do the trick too because not even ten seconds later, you were practically lurching off the table while crying out his name through a squirting orgasm. Your hand cemented him to your pussy so he could happily collect as much of your release right in his mouth. 

When you started to calm down, Harry softened his movements and pulled his fingers out of you. He licked them clean then pressed soft kisses all over your thighs and mound, even right on either side of your clit.

“You’re such a good girl, darling. Did so well for me.” Harry praised, squeezing your hand and keeping his eyes on your face as you panted and looked up at the ceiling. 

“God that was…” You swallowed thickly, pushing your sweaty hair from your forehead so you could look down at him. 

“What?” He nudged, smirking while kissing your inner thigh. “Good? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

“Your ego’s too big for your own good.” You laughed softly, sitting up so you could guide his mouth to yours. Harry was still smiling into the kiss until he relaxed into it. That’s when it turned heated again. The taste of your pussy and his mouth; your mouth too… it was all too much. “But yeah…” you sighed, “it was good.”

He stood up from his chair so you weren’t hunched down to kiss him and the moment you had access to his jeans, you started working on undoing them. Harry hissed into the kiss when you applied pressure to his hard bulge and he had to break free just to breathe at how sensitive he was. His cock felt harder than ever before. He didn’t think he had ever been this turned on and sore in his entire life.

This chemistry with you… it was otherworldly. Supernatural almost. A compelling pull like his cells were trying to fuse with yours. 

And you were married. He had to push that thought out of his head because only a few weeks into this and he was already considering asking you to leave your husband. 

“I need you, baby.” He panted, grabbing your hips tightly as you pushed his jeans and boxers down his thighs to free his cock. “Shit-”

You wrapped your hand around his cock while he helped you get them off the rest of the way. You couldn’t help but look down between you, needing to see how pretty he was. And pretty he was. Long and decently thick, so heavy in your hand. You knew he’d fill you up so good he’d have you seeing stars. Two fingers were usually enough to prep you for sex, sometimes even one depending on how turned on you were.

You were glad he chose three.

“Your cock is so pretty, Harry.” You complimented, squeezing your palm around him. Your eyes filtered between your working hand and his face, obsessed with how hooded his eyes became just from your hand. “So big too… I need you inside me. ‘M so empty.”

Harry didn’t quite realise when you said you liked dirty talk that you liked it both ways, but he rather enjoyed the filth spilling from your mouth. He found it cute that you could barely string words together when he was pleasuring you, but like this? It was the biggest fucking turn-on.

“Bend me over the table…” You begged softly, nipping at his jaw until you reached the shell of his ear. His cock was oozing precum down over your hand. He liked what you were saying. “Please. Make me squirt again…”

“Come here.”

Harry pulled you off the table and with a rough hand, spun you around to bend you over the table. You squealed as he spanked your ass without thought, spreading your cheeks wide to spit down over you. He planned to fulfil his promise of fucking you with this lingerie on and now that he was looking at your pretty holes bent over with the tiny string of lace tucked to the side… he couldn’t have been more excited.

“You’re just so hot, y/n.” Harry groaned, spanking your other cheek just to watch your ass jiggle. “So goddamn hot.”

“I’m hotter with a cock in me.” 

Your mouth earned you another spank, this time directly over your sensitive cunt. You squealed and jumped in place, but Harry easily soothed the ache with a friendly grind of his cock against your clit. Your knees buckled at the direct stimulation but Harry made sure you kept still by pressing his hand to your lower back.

“I need to get a condom,” he murmured to himself, suddenly remembering the dreaded protection right when his cock was so close to being inside you. 

“Hurry.” You gasped, forehead pressed to the table. 

“I will. I will.”

Harry fished the condom from his jeans pocket, placed there earlier in the evening in hopes of sleeping with you tonight. It was a just-in-case for something spur of the moment, though he didn’t start the night plotting a way to get you in his bed. He was glad now that he put that condom in there just in case, especially when you were waiting for him. 

Once the condom was on, he was right back in position. A hand on the small of your back and the other guiding the head of his cock to your entrance. Harry didn’t wait or tease, he just pressed right into you slowly and deliberately. 

“Shit-”

“Oh goddd…”

Your curses echoed at the same time, both as desperate as each other. Harry just stretched you so perfectly, on the cusp of too much and the best type of full possible. It helped that you were so damn wet, so turned on that he was easily able to push inside you. 

“God, baby. You're so tight.” Harry hissed, reaching forward to press a kiss to the middle of your back. You couldn’t even respond to his compliment when your body was still getting accustomed to a new man. A new cock. All you could do was moan and claw at the table, clenching around him. “Hey. You okay?” Harry checked, sweeping your hair back so he could see your face.

“Uhuh. Just… shit.” You whimpered, squeezing around him again. He cursed at how tight you were and collected your hair in a loose hold around his fist. 

“Y’sure?” He mused, pressing a kiss right in between your shoulder blades. “You’re trembling beneath me, darling.”

“Fuck me.” You begged. He was so deep in your belly and it was torturous having him so far inside you and not moving at all. “Please Harry just-”

He didn’t need to be convinced any further. Not with how sweet you sounded and how wet you were around him. You were a fucking dream and that only became more apparent as Harry started thrusting into you. He started with a slow but steady grind, fucking you with hard pressure like he was trying to memorise every inch of your pussy. 

“God baby. You feel so good.” Harry moaned, building up the speed with a good grip on your hips. He hooked his thumb into the small lace string of your underwear, pulling it to the side so he could watch his cock disappear into your wet cunt. And you were so wet. Your arousal coating his length and turning creamy the longer he fucked you. It was obscene. 

Mostly though, he was watching your face. Your cheek pressed to the table, mouth gaped open and eyes screwed shut as you moaned the-fuck the prettiest noises he had ever heard. He had barely shown you his best tricks and you were a mess beneath him. Had your husband really been lacking this entire time? Been leaving you so unsatisfied that a bit of doggy had you unravelling? 

He couldn’t bear the thought of you having to take care of yourself because your husband couldn’t do it for you. But maybe that was a good thing. Because then Harry would be there for you. He’d give you pleasure you had never experienced in your life. Over and over again. 

Starting with tonight. 

“Feel good baby?” Harry cooed, spanking your ass with a rough touch. 

“Yeah” 

“Yeah?” He repeated, spanking you again on the opposite side. Your whine echoed around the room, as did the sound of the dining table squeaking forward against Harry’s nice floorboards. “Say it, baby. Tell me how I’m doing, hm?”

“So good. God, you fuck me so good.” You moaned, “please- go… go harder. Harder.”

Harry picked up the pace, reaching to wrap your hair around his fist so he could pull your head back. “Moan for me, y/n. Moan my name.” He demanded right in your ear, spanking you twice on the same cheek. 

“Harry.” You cried out, feeling him smile in satisfaction at how pretty you took the pain. So he spanked you again and again as you moaned loudly into the air. 

“That’s it… Good girl. You’re taking it so well…” Harry gritted out, spanking your ass roughly while tightening his hand in your hair. You whined at the sting of your scalp, nearly sobbing at how fast and hard he was fucking into you. “S’like you were made for me, y/n. Just made for my fucking cock.”

He was fucking you so hard, so fucking good that the table kept etching forward and forward. Harry had to keep readjusting his footing and his grip on your hair. He combed his fingers through your hair and wrapped it around his fist, tugging hard when the table slipped forward again. 

But he was persistent and he wasn’t going to let anything stop him from giving you the fucking you deserved. 

“Y’sounds so damn pretty moaning my name, baby. Fucking love how sweet you sound.” 

His words elicited a moan; a filthy pretty moan only exaggerated when he tugged your hair harder. “You’re so big. So good.” You cried, “loveyourcock.”

You were addicted to the way he fucked you, even just the way he felt stretching you out but keeping completely still. It felt like you could almost reach an orgasm just like this with no clit stimulation at all which never happened. Nowadays it was your vibrator or nothing and now here you were one orgasm down and another so damn close. 

Still, you needed your clit touched and you couldn’t really reach it this way. 

The table etched forward once more and right as he pulled back to thrust into you again, the table slid forward making him slip out completely. He effortlessly slid himself back into you to continue, but when it happened a second then a third time you couldn’t help but giggle. Even through the deep pleasure and hazy mind, it was funny. 

“Fuck.” He cursed when his cock bumped against your ass cheek instead of where he actually wanted to be. He tapped it against your clit before grinding there, watching you squirm and let out a choked gasp through your light laugh. 

“I think we may need to switch rooms.” You giggled, looking over your shoulder at him while panting as you desperately tried to catch your breath. He had let go of your hair for a moment, planning on trying to continue until you suggested moving things elsewhere.

Truth be told, Harry jerked one out before you came. He didn’t plan the evening around having sex with you and would’ve been okay if nothing happened at all, but his cock couldn’t control itself around you. Just your presence and your scent could get him hard in no time so he tried to fuck the frustration out before you even got there.

He was glad he did so too because now that he was in the middle of feeling your sweet sweet cunt, he had a lot more stamina going onto his second orgasm. He could have you riding him through two more orgasms before needing to cum himself and fuck did he want to experience you squirting right on his dick. 

“I think so.” He breathed through a laugh and ran his hand through his hair, “c’mere.”

“Mh.” You agreed, standing up on shaky legs and sore hips. Harry grabbed you straight away and helped you turn around to face him. He cupped your face with one hand to guide your mouth to his, deepening it effortlessly while tucking his hands under your thighs so you could jump up and wrap your legs around him. 

You were slightly shaky in his arms, sensitive as he placed you gently on the floor in front of his bed. He broke the kiss to look at you for a moment, panting heavily while brushing his nose against yours. There was something about the look in his eyes that had you crumbling inside. They were soft and almost loving; so full of yearning and desire that you were almost scared to look back. It was overwhelming.

Harry danced his fingers down your neck and shoulder to your arm where the strap of your bra had fallen. Every touch was making you shiver and only causing that ache between your thighs to grow. You felt empty. Cold without his cock inside you. 

“Take this off. I want to see you.” Harry murmured, searching your eyes while waiting for you to nod before he kissed you once more and climbed onto his bed. He shuffled backwards until he was against his headboard, legs wide and cock hard and waiting for you to climb back onto him. 

He never stopped looking at you. Never stopped watching even as he wrapped his own hand around his cock and gave himself a few tugs to the sight of your body becoming bare for him. The prettiest of prettiest lingerie on planet Earth couldn’t compare to the sight of a womans naked body. Your bare, naked body. The soft peaks of your breasts and the way they fell naturally without a bra. The dip of your hips and tummy without the confides of lace. It was glorious. 

Harry could barely contain himself.

“You’re a vision.” Harry awed, jaw clenching like he was trying to control himself from dragging you onto the bed and pinning you down. 

“So are you.” You whispered while crawling towards him on the bed. You let your hands glide up his thighs once you were situated between them, taking the time to look over every inch of his naked body. You were in awe to put it simply and so goddamn attracted to him you were worried sex would never be the same afterwards. 

Because it wasn’t just the pleasure. It was the chemistry. The eye contact. The fact you two had a laugh about him thrusting against your ass cheek instead of inside of you because his table couldn’t handle the pressure. The way you could have that laugh just minutes ago and be back to this. The firey eye contact and his trembling thighs underneath your palms. 

“Can I have a taste…” You breathed, licking your lips at the sight of his cock up against his stomach. From this angle he looked even bigger than before and knowing he was just inside you… fuck. You could barely breathe. “Please?”

Harry groaned and wrapped his hand loosely around your neck, only applying light pressure right beneath your jaw. “Just a little, y/n. For now the only place I want to come is with you coming around me.” 

If only he was bare inside you…

“Okay… just a taste, H.” You nodded, pressing harder against his palm. You wrapped your palm around his cock, loving the sight of his jaw clenching at the touch. “Can I take this off?” You asked, rubbing over his head at the condom. 

“Yeah, baby. Take it off.”

Harry was going to lose his fucking mind. 

You were quick to pull off the condom then wasted no time in dipping down and licking a fat stripe from balls to tip on the underside of him. Harry groaned and collected your hair in his hand so he could see your face. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste of him and the weight of him on your tongue. 

He was warm and heavy and you could taste yourself right at the base of his cock where your arousal dripped down. You made sure to clean it all up with your tongue, lapping at it while looking at Harry to watch his reaction. He could barely contain himself and with every lick his hand flexed in your hair like he was trying to control himself. 

“You can guide me. I like it when I choke.” You murmured, spitting directly onto his tip before sliding it into your mouth to spread it with your tongue. 

“God, you’re going to be the end of me.” He groaned, hand tightening in your hair with purpose. Harry reached for your spare hand, intertwining your fingers while pulling your mouth off him for a moment. You were like jelly in his hands, compliant as he instructed you to squeeze his hand once if you were okay and twice if he was too rough or you needed a break. More than happy with that arrangement, you agreed and squeezed his hand in preparation for him to guide your mouth down. 

He started to gently maneuver your mouth up and down his length, starting shallow at first before going deeper until he felt the tightness of your throat around him. You choked ever so slightly but squeezed his hand once and enjoyed the feeling of his cock twitch down your throat. 

“Look at me…” Harry breathed, forcing your eyes on his. “That’s it… fuck.” 

The sight had him gasping and moving your mouth over his cock faster. Your pretty little eyes all glistened with tears… God the sight was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. And the way you just took his cock without complaint and even moaned when you gagged around him… it was like you were made for him.

The feeling of his cock filling your throat was like nothing else. There was just something about choking on a man’s dick that got you all squirmy inside. You had always been a relationship girl and a bit of a ‘late bloomer’ according to those who thought losing your virginity in your early 20s was the biggest sin of the century, but that didn’t mean you were inexperienced. 

Your first serious relationship exposed you to things you had always wanted to try. A world of kinks and things you weren’t sure you’d like until you tried them, others you were certain you’d hate until you found out you didn’t. You always considered yourself lucky to have a guy introduce you to sex and provide an environment where you could not only lose your virginity, but experiment without any shame or constraints.

Funny how you ended up married to your next serious relationship after him to a guy who had no interest in anything remotely more exciting than a spank and a sporadic hair pull. You loved Carson enough to be happy with vanilla but fulfilling sex. It wasn’t like it didn’t have any passion, because it did, it just didn’t have this.

What Harry managed to provide you on your first night together (a night far from over as well) Carson couldn’t give you in six years of being together. You weren’t sure you could go back to your old sex life. Not now. 

“You look so hot like this.” You gasped, pulling off to breathe while jacking him off with your spare hand. Your other was still intertwined with one his and you had no plans of changing that. “I love having your cock in my mouth, Harry…” you moaned, reaching in to lick his length once more. “Feels so good.”

“Jesus.” Harry groaned, tensing his hand in your hair. “You’re doing so well, y/n. Such a good little cock sucker, aren’t you?” 

You moaned filthily at his degrade, letting him slide you back down over his cock. Your whole body was on fire. Even with only a little hand holding and hair tugging, you were beyond turned on and empty between your legs. The sight of him was just so beyond sexy, almost too sexy for you to handle. 

His chest was heaving and glistening with sweat. With every pant or moan his abs would contract and his thighs would tremble on either side of your shoulders. You wanted to see him cum so bad. You wanted to watch his jaw contract and his mouth part as he moaned your name. 

“You’re gonna make me cum, y/n.” He warned in this almost whine of a tone. “Need to cum inside you.” 

“I want it in my mouth. Wanna taste you.” You practically pleaded, tapping his tip against your tongue. 

“You’re incredible…” Harry groaned, using his hand on your hair to pull you up towards his mouth. He kissed you hungrily, angling your head in the direction he wanted so he could deepen it. “But…” he panted, breaking just to say that one word before kissing you once more, “I need to…” he nibbled on your lip and grabbed onto the back of your thighs, "… feel you around me when I come.” 

You whimpered as he dragged you in a straddle and pressed your wet cunt directly over his cock in a slow deliberate grind. Fucking hell. You just wanted to slip him in, to feel him bare inside you until you were full of his cum. 

But you couldn’t. And the fact you were half considering letting it happen on your very first sexual experience out of your marriage was insane. It scared you. 

“Condom.” You uttered against his mouth, tugging on his hair ever so slightly. 

“Yeah. Yeah.” He breathed, barely able to concentrate when you dragged your mouth along his jaw and neck. Harry reached for his bedside table and grabbed another condom from the top drawer, returning quickly to kiss you again while blindly unwrapping it. 

But it was like Harry was stuttering. Fumbling to do something as simple as putting a condom on his own cock. He couldn’t help it really. Not when your mouth was so sweet and erotic, nibbling at his bottom lip until all he could think about was how to hold his breath indefinitely so he could kiss you forever. 

And you were growing impatient. The few seconds delay in his movements had you so desperate you leaned back to breathe, took the condom from his hand and rolled it down on his cock in one swift motion. 

“Fuck me, baby.” This time it was Harry’s time to plead. He wound his hand in the hair at the nape of your neck and kissed you again, panting into your open mouth as you guided him to your entrance and dropped down on him once more. 

His cock felt so much bigger from this angle and he felt deeper too even though he was just fucking you so hard his dining room table couldn’t handle the force. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t control the loud whine flooding into his mouth when your clit hit his pubic bone. Or maybe it was because this position was far more intimate than being bent over. 

“You’re so big… feels bigger like this.” You gasped, lulling your head back while grabbing his shoulders for balance so you could start bouncing on him and getting a good rhythm going. 

“I know…” he cooed, squeezing your hips before spanking you quickly. “Show me how much you need it, huh?” Leaning in, Harry ran his mouth along your exposed neck, panting between little bites and licks on your skin, “show me how good m’cock makes you feel.” 

"Love your cock," You whined, already feeling the ache in your thighs as you picked up the speed.

Harry wrapped one arm around you and hugged you tighter while pressing the fingers of his spare hand directly to your clit. And with every bounce, every grind, his fingers stimulated right where you needed it the most. You were already so full with him and now he was giving you the cherry on top so you could finish.

"More... more, please. Need it harder."

"Need it harder?" Harry taunted, hiking his legs up on his feet in a wide position on the bed so he had enough stability to thrust up into you. "Like that?" He chuckled at your cry, squeezing your body in his arm so you stayed exactly where he wanted you.

"Yeah... yeah. Fuck!" you practically sobbed, unable to do anything but grab his hair or shoulders and just take how hard he was fucking into you. His legs were strong and while you were a sobbing, breathless mess above him, Harry wasn't losing momentum at all.

He was sweaty and panting but he never stopped thrusting up into you. At least that's what it felt like. While you gave up and begged for more, Harry was more than happy to take over and give you a fucking you'd never forget.

He thrived being in control. You could tell.

"That's it, y/n. You're taking it so fucking well, y'know that. Just sitting there and taking it like the good little slut you are. My fucking slut..." Harry cooed, dipping down to tug at your nipple. "Got me so fucking close, pretty girl. Just need you to come f'me."

Between his words and lips on your breast... his fingers pressed to your clit and the way his cock was bruising your insides, you couldn't hold on any longer.

“God, Harry. ‘M gonna cum” You cried, trying to warn him of the deep churning in your belly and the trembling in your toes.

"Look at me." He demanded, sliding his hand up into your hair to force your head in his direction. Your eyes fluttered open but despite your vision already hazy, you could clearly see the way his eyes were hooded, pupils wide and hungry. "That's it. Look at me while you cum, baby. Let me see how pretty you look."

Harry pressed his forehead to yours, opened mouths panting and brushed against one another. He watched closely when your mouth gaped wide and your eyes struggled to keep open as your orgasm hit. The way your brows furrowed and your entire body trembled on top of him and he could feel his lap and lower belly become soaked in your release.

It was glorious.

"Good girl." He praised, "Fuck. Fuck!" His words turned to mush when he reached his own orgasm and somehow even pulled you tighter against him so he could feel every inch of your soft skin.

Coming down was all open-mouthed kisses and laboured breaths and this distinct feeling that everything had changed. You two could never go back to casual and you most certainly couldn't look at yourself or your husband the same way ever again.

"I feel bad you only came once." You practically pouted, grabbing another spoonful of pudding to feed it to Harry. "It doesn't really seem fair."

What did seem fair, though, was finishing off the dessert neither of you ate after your intense workout. You were quite enjoying feeding a naked Harry delicious sugary puddings and it just felt morally wrong to leave the dessert sitting there when it was the perfect bridge between round one and two.

"Trust me. I'm more than satisfied." Harry chuckled once swallowing the delicious dessert. He dragged his fingers over your hip, loving how his t-shirt fit your frame. It was so casual and sexy. His clothes had never looked better.

"Well, I hope you're not tired because I'm not and I think I'd like to test your 27-year-old stamina." you shrugged casually, eating the last bite of the sticky date pudding.

"Oh really?" Harry raised his brow and gently took the spoon from your fingers to set them down on the plate. "Two orgasms wasn't enough for you?" He teased, moving the plate out of the way so he could cup your face and gently guide you down onto the bed.

"Mh mh." You shook your head with a smile and clasped your hands around the back of his neck while he adjusted your body to hover over you. "I think at least four..." you curled your leg around his hip and dug your heel right into the pudginess of his bum, "and I wouldn't mind a bit more effort put into making my ass red. You did promise that, didn't you?"

"More effort, huh?" He smirked and grabbed onto the underside of your jaw with a firm grip to pin you to the bed. "You've got no idea what you just started, little girl."

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

Tag List: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @gurugirl @hsonlyangelxo @kkr102 @falloutby

@caynonmoondreams @theskyyabove @sykostyles @harryslittlefreakk @avaaas-world

@littlenatilda @grabiolla @forgetdelaney @hislcstyles @yourdatcrazyweirdo

@elidoho @esnyhoney @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @lillefroe @harrysrockstarsgf

@hrrypinks @justlemmeadoreyou @swagg13r @whatamievendoingonhere @delicatepointofharry

@onlyangellucifer @youcan-nolonger-run @gotdrxnkonu @cheappackofcigerattes @idrawshapesonpeople07

@straightontilmornin @mellamolayla @stilesissaved @ribbonknives @scndsofsummer

@floral-recs @styles.sturniolo @maryjahps @babyfratelli7 @voniikg

@complikyfreak @tswiftsgf @triski73 @michellekstyles @freedomfireflies @tiredinwinter @butdaddyilovehim-hs

*please make sure your settings allow you to be tagged ❤️*

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed! 🤍