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lemoncrushh · 8 hours
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Through the Wall
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Summary: Harry is your handsome neighbour, and you keep hearing him through the wall.
A/N: This is short little one shot I wrote and posted last year to try to get my mojo back, so sorry if it seems familiar.
Warnings: Masturbation and sexual noises.
Word Count: 1.7k
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He was at it again. The man next door.
Harry. That was his name. You’d learnt it a week or so ago when you’d come home with multiple bags of food and he’d offered to hold the door and carry a few upstairs for you. But that hadn’t been the first time you’d seen him. You’d been admiring him from afar for weeks, sneaking peeks when he’d go out for his morning run, or when he was checking his post. You’d decided long ago that he was attractive, though you’d still been too shy to give him more than a meek smile.
But more than just getting a quick view of him on his way in or out the building, you heard him. A lot.
The building you shared with Harry was a former tenement, an old run-down series of flats from the seventies that had recently been upgraded and remodeled. Though the insides resembled modern apartment living, the walls still remained paper-thin. And recently you’d deduced that your bedroom wall was one that you shared with your handsome neighbour. Harry.
You hadn’t realised what it had been at first, the sound coming from behind the wall. You’d just returned to your room after a shower, ready to retire for the evening and crawl into bed early. The sound had started low at first, like a deep grumble. At first you thought perhaps your neighbour was talking on the phone, his demeanor soon sounding disgruntled, his volume growing through the wall. It wasn’t until you’d turned out the light that you heard a second voice. A female voice.
Just brilliant, you’d thought sarcastically. He has a woman in there with him.
Perturbed that he’d chosen to entertain a female on the evening you’d decided to go to bed before ten, you considered grabbing your headphones, or even some earplugs. But that was when the grumbling grew into deep moans. Had you any doubts before that the man’s bedroom was directly on the other side of the wall of your own, they certainly dissipated when you heard the knock of the headboard. Felt it, even.
Nearly ready to leap out of bed and find those God forsaken earplugs, you suddenly heard him speak.
“Oh, God!” he cried from the other side of the paper-thin wall.
Perhaps it was the desperate tone in his voice, or maybe the heavy breathing you heard afterwards, but your ears perked up then. As he continued to moan, you were no longer irritated by the sounds, but rather titillated by them. The search for anything to plug your ears dismissed, you laid in your bed and allowed yourself to have a private…concert.
You realised as the noises and moans increased, you heard less of the female tone. You thought this interesting since in your experience, women tend to be a little louder in bed than men. You wondered if she was sucking him off when you heard the headboard hit the wall again.
“Jesus!” Harry gasped at almost the same time you did. “Oh, fuck! Yes, baby….yes…ohhhh…”
Giggling to yourself, you listened as your neighbour came down from his orgasm, his heavy breaths slowing to a shaky sigh.
Well, he certainly sounds satisfied, you thought. Lucky girl.
That had been the first time you’d heard Harry through the wall. But it certainly wasn’t the last. The irony of it was that each time you heard him, you could have sworn there was someone else in the room with him. But the next morning, when you would open your flat door and head for the stairs, Harry would sometimes emerge from his own door…alone.
Not that the guest couldn’t have left during the night, or even directly after their shag. That was definitely possible. You just found it…odd that no one - male nor female - lingered near his flat to give him a goodbye kiss. Instead, he would smile at you, sometimes offer you a chipper greeting and wish you a pleasant day.
This particular day - a Saturday - you’d headed out that morning for an errand when you’d spotted Harry returning from his morning run.
“Good morning, Y/N,” he waved, his shirt stained with sweat, his thick thighs peeking out from his black running shorts. Damn him. The fact that he remembered your name was bad enough. Now you’d be forced to imagine him behind the wall, sweat dripping from his brow, his wet skin glistening like it was now.
When you returned home, you’d barely unloaded your items from the supermarket when you started to hear the familiar noises.
Bloody hell!, you thought. It’s the middle of the damn day!
Nevertheless, when you walked into your bedroom, Harry’s moans were intense and lusty. And just like the last time, which had only been the previous night, you found yourself turned on, squeezing your legs together to hold in your desire. As you sat on the bed to listen more closely, you could hear Harry mumbling something, though you couldn’t make out the words. Harry panted, his deep moans turning into desperate cries. You began to feel more and more wetness between your legs until you finally rose from the bed to strip.
“Fuck it all!” you exclaimed as you climbed back onto your mattress, facing the wall. Your right hand quickly made its way to your already soaking pussy while you braced yourself against the wall with your left.
Whilst Harry continued his sexy sounds, you imagined you were the guest in his room, the one who was making him feel this way - so insatiably horny until he was completely fucked out of his mind.
“Oh, God,” he cried out again. “Yeah, fuck me, baby.”
With a grin, you paused the stroking with your hand to reach for your bedside table. Opening the drawer, you pulled out your special friend. Happy to oblige, you pretended your girthy toy was your neighbour, whom no doubt was just as girthy. A girl knows these things.
As you slowly lowered yourself onto your dildo, you let out a gasp. Even in your wet state, it always took a little adjusting. But once you were there, you returned your hand to the wall, imagining Harry was inside you. Your jaw slack, your eyes rolling back in your head, you let all inhibitions go. You cursed out loud when Harry did, allowing yourself the pleasure. When your arm could no longer hold you up, you sat back on your knees, your free hand pinching your nipple.
When you heard Harry’s headboard hit the wall, you could feel your own release coming soon. Your thighs weakening and burning, you grabbed hold of your pillow as you fucked the toy harder into your dripping cunt.
“Oh, fuck, Harry!” you called out.
Oops. That was loud, you thought. Had he heard you?
You paused - for only a moment though your throbbing pussy would beg to differ - and you could have sworn Harry stopped too. Was he finished? You hadn’t heard him come.
Deciding to at least finish yourself off, you started pumping again, the “Harry” dildo fucking you in just the right spot. You gasped and moaned again, this time not caring about the volume. That was when you heard a chuckle.
At least…you thought you did.
“Yeah, babe, you’re so hot.” You definitely heard that. “Fuck me, just like that.”
Your moans become more feral, you lifted yourself up onto your knees again, your hand finding the wall. You scooted closer, until your ear was almost pressing against it. You wanted to hear him come. Needed to.
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” you heard him ask.
You licked your lips as you imagined the query was for you. Another moan escaping your lips, you sped up your hand.
“You like when I fuck you like this, baby?”
Biting your bottom lip, you nodded, but another cry sounded from your chest.
“Yeah, your pretty pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, innit? Just for me.”
“Yes!” you shouted, just as a thunderous orgasm ripped through your entire body. “Oh, God!”
Thighs trembling, palms sweating, you were no longer able to hold yourself up. You cried Harry’s name several times until it turned into a whisper as you slid down the wall to your pillows.
A low, guttural moan sounded from Harry’s side of the wall followed by a handful of expletives. Then he let out another chuckle.
“That was incredible, babe.”
Incredible, indeed. Though…now that you were coming down from your high, you finally admitted that he’d heard you. He knew it was you.
Holy shit!
Scrambling from the bed, you took a quick shower, wrapping yourself in a massive, plush towel. Laying on your bed, you pondered the idea that Harry might have been trying to tease you all along. Perhaps it was his game.
Dehydrated, you walked to the kitchen for a glass of water. Your brain was still trying to process everything that had just happened when a knock sounded on the door.
“Um…who is it?” you called from the other side without opening it.
“It’s your neighbour, love. Harry.”
Of course it was.
“Oh, um…okay, just a minute!”
Running to the bedroom, you threw on a pair of leggings and an oversized tee before hesitantly opening the door, greeting your neighbour with a weak smile.
“Hi,” he grinned. “Sorry to bother you. I got some of your post by mistake.”
“Oh,” you said, a bit confused as you handed you a couple letters. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Well…again, didn’t want to trouble you. Have a nice evening.”
“Um…same to you,” you gulped.
Harry was just about to turn away, your hand on the door as you stood baffled, when he stopped and pinched his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger.
“By the way…” he started, his words trailing off.
“Yes?”
“Uh…this is kinda awkward, but…I’m a single guy and don’t know many people yet in this area. But I’m cooking dinner, and it’s far too much for one person. Would you…like to join me?” he gestured toward his door.
Your eyebrows lifted high as your jaw dropped. “Dinner? At your flat?”
“Yeah. That is…if you want to.”
You smiled at him as a sigh of relief escaped your chest. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
“Good,” he beamed before he leant forward, his forearm resting on your door frame. “I reckon it’s better than communicating through the wall.”
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It was late and I was feeling things, so I decided to repost this. Hope you enjoyed :).
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lemoncrushh · 12 hours
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Oh wow thanks so much!! I'm glad you enjoyed it :) xoxo
Dressing For Revenge 2
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I had a few requests for a continuation of this story, so here it is!
Summary: A week after your night with Harry, he calls and invites you to a work-related event which his ex also attends.
Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), all the good stuff. MUST BE 18+ TO READ.
Word Count: 7.6k+
Read part 1 here
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The microwave beeped offensively loud as you changed into your favorite pajamas. Slipping into a pair of fuzzy socks, you sauntered into the kitchen and grabbed a large bowl from the cabinet. Movies and popcorn sounded like a great plan for a night in. After the debacle the previous weekend, you’d scheduled this Friday evening for yourself. No parties, no nightclubs, no friends. Just you and a chick flick. And maybe some wine.
Deciding to pour a glass, you grabbed it and the popcorn and made yourself comfortable on the sofa. While laughing at Jennifer Lopez hiding from Matthew McConaughey, you felt your phone buzz. Expecting it to be Kelsie or one of your friends from work texting you, you were surprised to see a different name on the screen.
Hi Y/N. How are you?
Your stomach unexpectedly flipped just seeing your name in print underneath his. You hadn’t heard from Harry since he’d called you that night to make sure you’d gotten home okay. Not that you’d expected to. It had only been a week after all. And of course it was a two-way street. You could have texted him. But you hadn’t. But that didn’t mean you hadn’t thought of him.
Hi, Harry. You texted back. I’m fine. You?
Oh hey. I didn’t expect you to reply right away. Are you at home?
You bit your lip. Was he fishing for an invite? Shaking your head, you typed, Yes.
Mind if I call?
With a half squeal, half groan, you replied, Not at all.
Although you had literally just been texting with him, feeling the vibration in your hand and seeing his name again on the screen as your phone rang sent a new rush through your veins.
“Hi,” you answered nonchalantly.
“Hi, Y/N, how are you?”
You chuckled. “You asked me that already.”
“Right. So I did. Um…didn’t expect you to be home on a Friday night,” said Harry.
“That’s because I have a date.”
“Oh?”
“With myself,” you finished, reaching for your glass and taking another sip of wine.
“Oh,” he let out a breathy laugh. He sounded relieved, which only made your heart beat faster. “And how’s that going so far?”
“Not bad. I figure at this rate I’ll be taking myself to bed by midnight.”
Harry snickered harder at your joke. You smiled, happy that you could make him laugh.
“What are you up to tonight, Harry?” you asked.
“Pretty much the same thing, although I’m not sure I’m quite as compatible.”
“No?”
“Mmm,” he sounded. “Am I allowed to say I’m a little jealous?”
You chuckled, though you didn’t really give an answer.
“Which brings me to the reason I called,” Harry continued. “I have something to ask you. A favor, if you will.”
“Oh?”
“You can say no, and I’ll completely understand if you do. I know I said you could call me if you wanted to get together again…”
“Harry, what is it?” you persisted.
You half expected him to say he was horny and lonely, that he wanted you to come over for a quick fix. But you were surprised when he had a different proposition.
“I have a…a thing tomorrow night. A real estate thing. It’s like a corporate dinner where we meet up with the management companies and investors, announce the top brokers and give awards and such. And I was…wondering if you’d come as my date.”
“Oh…” you mused. “You’re allowed to bring a date?”
“Of course. In fact, it’s almost mandatory.” You heard Harry do the breathy laugh again and wondered if he made that part up, or if it was meant to be a joke.
“I see. And…you’re inviting me?”
“I am. I know we don’t know each other well. And you’ll probably be bored out of your mind, and I wouldn’t blame you one bit. It’s just…”
“Just what?” you asked when his words trailed off.
“I didn’t tell you this before because there was no reason to. But my ex is in real estate as well. That’s how we…you know…met.”
“Ah, so she’ll be there.”
“Correct,” Harry sighed.
“And you want me to make her jealous,” I added in a half question.
“Not jealous, really,” replied Harry. “More like revenge. To show her I’m better off without her. Like we did to your ex last weekend.”
“I see,” you said again.
You heard Harry sigh again, then groan. “I’m sorry, Y/N. It sounded better in my head.”
“I didn’t say no.”
“Well, no, but you’re probably thinking it. I swear, I don’t want this to seem like I’m using you. I genuinely like you, Y/N. And I’m very much attracted to you.”
You started to giggle, setting your glass back down on the coffee table.
“What’s so funny?” Harry asked solemnly.
“I used you, Harry. Last weekend. In fact, you wanted me to. And now you’re saying you’re not wanting to use me? For the exact same reason?”
“I reckon you’re right.”
“Of course I am. Now. Let’s just call a spade a spade. What time is this event tomorrow?”
“So you’re going?”
“Of course, I am. You did me a solid, and now I can do one back. Besides, it might be a little fun.”
“Alright,” said Harry, a smile in his voice. “It starts at eight. I can pick you up around seven thirty, if that’s okay.”
“That’s perfect. How formal is this, like black tie, or business casual?”
“Somewhere in between. A cocktail dress should be fine.”
“Sounds good. I look forward to it, Harry,” you announced honestly.
“Good. Me too. Thanks for doing this, love.”
After hanging up the phone, you rushed to your closet to pick out something to wear for the event. Even though you hadn’t wanted to let on over the phone, you were beyond excited to see Harry again. This time, you got to be his arm candy and not Luke’s. And unlike with Luke, you had a feeling Harry would only have eyes for you.
As long as his heart didn’t still belong to his ex.
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You’d just dabbed on some lipgloss when you heard the buzzer. Pressing the intercom button, you instructed Harry to come on up to your apartment. But when the knock sounded and you swung the door open, you nearly had to hold on to the knob to keep your balance.
“Shit,” you muttered at the same time Harry exclaimed “God damn!”
With a nervous laugh, you caught the twinkle in Harry’s eyes as he leaned against the door jam, his gaze raking over your body.
He looked delicious. Similar to the previous weekend, he wore a silk shirt, unbuttoned plenty to catch peeks at his tattoos and pecks. Over it was a black suit with the jacket open, the slacks fitting him well in all the right places.
“Fuck me, kitten, you look stunning,” said Harry, expressing your thoughts before your mouth could.
You blushed, your hands self-consciously running down your waist and hips. You must have chosen the right dress for the evening. It was a short, fitted, black lace dress with a high neck and long sleeves. You felt like it was tasteful, yet sexy. Harry seemed to agree as he stepped over the threshold and reached for your waist, pulling you to him.
“Wow,” he breathed in your ear. “How lucky am I?”
“Hmm, I guess we’ll see,” you teased, inhaling his intoxicating cologne.
Harry chuckled low. “Is that how it’s gonna be, then, kitten?” You felt his hands travel down to your butt. And you didn’t stop him when he lowered his mouth to your neck.
“Yes,” you whispered as he sucked on your delicate flesh.
“Maybe we should just ditch this party all together and stay here instead.”
“Now, Harry,” you tsked, pushing his shoulders away. “I thought this was important.”
His laugh vibrated in his chest as he nodded. “Indeed. Thanks so much again for doing this.”
Pursing your lips, you winked at him. Then grabbing your clutch, you followed him out the door and downstairs to his car. When he opened it for you, you immediately got a whiff of the expensive leather, an aroma you’d found pleasant and comforting the last time. It reminded you of the smell of his bedroom, and you quickly clamped your thighs together when you climbed into the front seat, the memory of that night in his bed arousing you.
The drive to the venue was quick, for which you were grateful since you couldn’t manage to keep your eyes off of Harry’s hands on the wheel and gear shift, and the way his thighs looked in those pants. He made some small talk, but your mind was elsewhere, almost wishing you’d taken him up on the offer to stay at your place.
When he parked the car in front of a fancy hotel, you gasped. “It’s in here?”
You recognized the place. Well, obviously anyone would. But you’d been there before. Luke had taken you there once when you-
“Well, it only seemed natural,” replied Harry as he turned off the engine, “seeing as the company owns this property.”
Jerking your head, you stared at Harry with wide eyes, astonished. “Oh my God! I knew you were rich, but…oh my God!”
With a chuckle and a gleam in his eye, Harry opened his car door and rounded to your side where you still sat with your mouth agape. You eventually smiled, taking Harry’s awaiting hand and letting him lead you to the entrance and through the hotel lobby to the elevators. A cluster of people were gathered nearby and Harry slowed and whispered in your ear.
“Some of my colleagues,” he explained. “Shall I introduce you?”
“Of course,” you grinned. “As long as you’re not ashamed to be seen with me.”
“Are you kidding?” he smirked, giving your butt a pat before quickly guiding you toward the men.
“Gentlemen!” he greeted boisterously.
“Harry, my good man, how are you?” one of the men broke from the pack to offer his hand.
“Can’t complain,” Harry replied, shaking hands. “How about yourself?”
“Same here,” the man nodded, though his eyes seemed to wander to you eagerly. “And who is this gorgeous angel you brought with you?”
You felt Harry’s hand glide down your back. “Greg, I’d like you to meet Y/N, Y/N this is Greg Hawthorne, Chairman of the Board.”
“How do you do, sweetheart,” said Greg.
“Lovely to meet you,” you smiled, taking his hand though you had no idea what a Chairman of the Board was.
Just then, you were saved by the ding that the awaiting elevator announced, and you and Harry followed the rest of the group up to another floor. More groups of people were gathered there, and down the hall. Harry stopped a couple more times to introduce you to more colleagues. You knew for certain you would never be able to remember their names, but you figured that wasn’t the reason for the pleasantries.
When you came to a large, open, double doorway, you were greeted by another man and woman who welcomed you both to the event. Stepping inside the massive room, you took in the view of what appeared to be a ballroom, filled with cloth-covered tables with fancy centerpieces. At the far end was a stage, a podium erected in the center and a large screen next to it. The chandeliers were enough to take your breath away, and when Harry guided you toward one of the tables, you noticed the gold-leafed placards.
“This is nicer than most weddings I’ve been to,” you whispered to Harry, lifting the placard in front of you that held his name.
Your date only grinned, but you quickly felt a hand on your knee underneath the table. He gave it a nice squeeze, and you giggled.
“None of that, Mr. Styles,” you warned. “We’re in public.”
“Oh, so I can’t even touch you?”
“I didn’t say that. Just be careful. I’m very ticklish. People may get the wrong idea.”
“I see,” he smirked with sexy eyes. “I’ll try to be discreet, then.”
The room started to fill up, and Harry was greeted so many times that you just remained standing. You had to admit, it felt good to be the companion of someone so popular. Luke’s popularity was nothing compared to this. And everyone seemed to be very fond of Harry.
However, after a quick chat with one of Harry’s friends, you felt his hand twist the back of your dress. Taking a step back to keep your balance, you looked at him and noticed how much the expression on his face had instantly changed.
“What happened?” you inquired. “Is something wrong?”
“She’s here,” he said, his voice low but clear.
“Oh,” you whispered. “Where?”
Harry loosened his jaw, then cleared his throat, looked down and scratched his nose. “Right there. Blue dress.”
Scanning the entrance, you picked out the woman. While she was attractive, she was not what you had pictured. Not that you had any point of reference, but she just didn’t seem like someone you would have thought Harry would have been in a relationship with.
“Oh, I see,” you commented, unsure of what else to say.
A waiter came around with a tray of champagne, blocking your view of Harry’s ex. You graciously accepted a glass, and Harry suggested you both take a seat.
“Hello, Harry,” you heard behind you just as you’d turned.
Harry exhaled through his nose before addressing her. “Good evening, Toni. You’re looking well.”
Toni flipped her hair from her shoulder and grinned triumphantly. Then her eyes fell on you.
“Antoinette Bloom, how do you do?” she said, offering her hand to you.
“Y/N Y/LN, nice to meet you.” You tried your best to give the most nonchalant, yet genuine greeting, hoping Harry was pleased. The corners of your mouth began to curve upwards when you felt his hand on your back once again.
“I hear you closed on the MacHouser deal, Harry,” Toni turned her attention back to her ex. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” he half-bowed, “it was a team effort.”
“Of course.”
Just then, another tall man appeared, his hand on Toni’s shoulder. “Darling, I found our table over there. I think it’s about to get started.”
“Oh, yes,” she grinned. “Good to see you, Harry.” She merely nodded at you, and didn’t even bother introducing the man who was already guiding her to the right side of the ballroom. You felt Harry let out a long breath.
“That wasn’t so bad,” you assured with a smile.
“Wasn’t so great either,” he frowned.
You slid your hand up his arm, squeezing his bicep. “Could have been worse.”
Finally looking at you, Harry’s frown turned into a grin. Your insides flipped when his dimples appeared and he pulled you close to him.
“She’s got nothing on you, you know.”
“Except history,” you remarked.
Harry chuckled. “C’mon, love. Let’s sit and enjoy this evening. Together.”
“Sounds good,” you agreed as Harry helped push in your chair. “By the way, did you know him?”
“Who?”
“The man she was with. She didn’t introduce him.”
“Oh. Yeah. He’s the uh…”
When Harry paused, your eyes widened in astonishment. “Him? She left you for that guy?”
“Well, no, she didn’t leave me, I kicked her out.”
“Because she was cheating on you. With him!”
Harry covered your hand with his. “Let’s not get into it, babe. Not now.”
With a huff, you sat back in your chair, crossing your arms. What an idiot this woman was! Fucking moron!
Harry chuckled low, making you look over at him. “What?”
“You look like a defiant child sat there like that, kitten.”
With a snort, you sat up straight. “Sorry. I just don’t think she knew how good she had it.”
“And how good is that?” Harry leaned closer, his hand sliding up your thigh under the table.
“Harry…” you mouthed, barely able to get out a breath as his fingers played with the hem of your dress.
“Oh, good evening Harry!” a plump man announced, grabbing the chair on the other side of him. “Looks like Marla and I are at your table.”
“Hi, Tom, how are things?” Harry quickly rose from his chair to shake hands with the man, then with the woman he was with.
“Well, as they say…same shit, different day!” Tom cackled.
Harry laughed, “Yes, indeed.” Then he introduced you to Tom and his wife, Marla, who both already seemed like very nice people.
Two more couples arrived shortly after, rounding out your table. Soon enough, the waiters came around with plates of food. You gawked at the presentation of the scrumptious looking chicken dish in front of you.
“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered in your ear. “I forgot to tell you I ordered the food weeks ago. I hope chicken is okay.”
“Of course, no problem,” you replied.
“Obviously I knew I wouldn’t be here with Toni, but I reckoned chicken was a safe bet.”
“It’s perfectly fine,” you insisted.
“So, how did you two meet?” Marla asked after Tom had made a toast.
Harry looked over at you and you felt your face flush.
“Um…the traditional way,” replied Harry. “At a nightclub.”
“Oh!” Marla giggled when Harry winked, putting you at ease.
Once again, you felt Harry’s hand on you underneath the table. Instead of squeezing your knee, he slid his palm up dangerously, allowing his fingers to rest just inside your thigh. You gasped out a breath, swiftly grabbing your champagne, hoping no one noticed.
Chatter and small talk filled the room until the lights dimmed slightly and the man from the elevator stepped up to the podium. He announced himself as Greg Hawthorne and welcomed you all to tonight’s gala. Then the television monitor came to life and displayed a quick introduction to the firm. While most of it was over your head, you were once again impressed by the company and what real estate it owned. After another quick spiel, Greg introduced the CEO who joined him at the podium, gave a short speech and sat back down at his table. Then Greg proceeded with the awards ceremony, starting with one for another man you’d met earlier.
Having finished your delicious chicken, you placed your fork down on your plate, and dabbed your lips with a napkin. When everyone clapped, you joined in.
Harry leaned over and whispered in your ear. “Bored yet?”
“No,” you smiled. “I’m having a lovely time.”
“Liar.”
“No, I’m not,” you insisted with a laugh.
You reached for his hand then, pulling it underneath the tablecloth, setting it in your lap. You covered it with your other hand for reassurance. Harry beamed at you, then kissed your temple.
Just then, a name you hadn’t wished to hear was announced. Antoinette Bloom stepped up on stage to receive her award, though you’d missed what she’d earned it for. You felt Harry’s body go still next to you.
“You okay?” you whispered.
“Um, yeah. Yeah,” he sighed. “I’m fine.”
“It’s still hard to see her, isn’t it?”
“No, no…it’s…it’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Harry, it’s okay,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I get it. Remember?”
His green eyes stared at you and you thought you saw them water, but he blinked quickly. Then he pulled his hand from your grasp and reached for his champagne, gulping it down. You looked around your table and saw more sets of eyes, either on Harry or trying to divert their gaze. They all knew. They had probably known them when they were a couple. Suddenly, you felt like a duck out of water, and just as Toni was finishing her speech, you excused yourself to the ladies’ room.
When you made it to the stall, and took several deep breaths, you started talking to yourself. Reminding yourself that you were doing Harry a favor. You were his plus one because he wanted some sort of revenge, or proof for his ex to see he didn’t need her anymore - just as Harry had done for you the weekend before with Luke.
This isn’t about you, you stupid bitch. After tonight you’ll probably never see him again.
After washing up and touching up your lip gloss, you opened the door to see Harry standing in the hallway.
“Hey. What are you doing out here?” you asked.
“Checking on you. You rushed out so quickly.”
“Sorry. Must have been the champagne.”
Harry took two steps closer, enough to reach out and finger a curl on your shoulder. “Liar,” he muttered.
With a sigh, you shook your head. “Harry…”
“Y/N. I’m the one who should apologize. I made a fool of myself, trying to act like I didn’t care she was here. You were right.”
“I was?” you gulped.
“It’s still hard,” he nodded. “I mean…it’s not like I want her back. I don’t really want anything to do with her. Just…seeing her reminds me, you know?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m sorry, darling. I really am.” Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, and you took that as your cue.
“It’s okay. Shall I get an Uber, or…”
“What?” Harry’s eyes widened. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
“Well…um…,” you stumbled. “Don’t you want me to?”
“Oh, God, honey, no! No! I didn’t mean to imply that at all!”
You fiddled with the clutch in your hands as you stared at him incredulously. “I’m confused.”
Reaching for your waist, Harry pulled you even closer. “Baby, I want you to stay. Please. I enjoy your company. And even though this is probably boring you to tears, you look so fucking sexy, I want...”
“What?” you asked when his words trailed off.
“I…” Harry searched down either end of the hallway, making sure no one was within earshot. Then he guided you backwards against the wall. “I wanna eat you up,” he growled.
“Oh!” you squeaked just before his mouth collided with yours.
His kisses were rough and urgent. His stubble scratched against your delicate skin. And you loved it. Gasping for a breath, you grabbed hold of his jacket lapels.
“Harry…”
“I want you so bad, kitten,” he whined. God, that sounded hot. “Been thinking about you all fucking week. Took everything I had in me not to call sooner.”
“Really?”
Just then, two other women started down the hall toward you. Harry straightened up and you pretended to be looking for something in your bag. When they passed and entered the restroom, you raised your head. Harry was staring at you like a tiger about to pounce its prey. When he blinked slowly, you could hear him swallow hard.
“I got a room,” he finally said.
Your jaw dropped. “A roo-, here?”
“Yeah. I know it’s presumptuous of me. But I was hoping…you might…wanna stay with me tonight.”
As he said those words, he moved closer to you, slowly like a dream. Chills erupted down your body, and you found yourself eagerly allowing him into your embrace. His lips met yours again, this time sweet and wet.
“I-I thought…” you breathed between kisses, “when you froze next to me…when she got her award…that you…”
“Shh,” Harry sounded, silencing you with more kisses. “Baby girl…let me make it clear. I don’t want her. I want you.”
You thought you saw the shadows of the women returning from the bathroom, but neither you nor Harry moved an inch. His gaze pierced through you, you melted, and you may have even let out a moan.
“I want you, too. So bad.”
“Good,” he growled, sliding his hand around your neck. Then kissing you one more time, he stood up straight and said, “Let’s get out of here.”
Taking your hand, you were halfway down the hall when Tom emerged from the ballroom.
“Harry!,” he said. “They need you in here!”
“What for?”
“Your award!”
Harry cursed under his breath, and you chuckled as he tugged on your hand and led you back into the ballroom.
“There he is!” shouted Greg from the podium. “C’mon Harry, everyone who’s awarded has to get up here.”
Harry snorted, then gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before heading up to the stage. With a cheesy grin on your face, you made it back to your table and joined everyone in clapping as Harry accepted his award. You hadn’t even heard what it was for, but it didn’t matter. You were proud of him regardless, and you planned on showing him just how proud you were later in the room he’d said he’d gotten.
You watched your handsome date as he gave his acceptance speech, the glow on his face. When he was finished, he gave a quick nod and thank you, then began to make his way between the tables. You noticed Toni staring at him, but your grin spread when Harry paid her no mind, and instead beamed at you with his dimpled smile.
“Congrats, Harry!” exclaimed Tom when Harry reached your table. “I was worried you’d either gone or didn’t care about receiving an award. But I see I was wrong on both accounts. Well-deserved, my friend.”
“Thanks, Tom.”
Although Harry’s words were addressed to the man on his left, his eyes hadn’t left yours.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“Now?” you half-chuckled, half-gasped.
“Yes,” he replied, his voice suddenly an octave lower.
“Oh, don’t leave yet, you two!” Marla whisper-shouted. “You’ll miss the best part!”
“Best part?” you inquired, eyeing both Marla and Harry.
Harry smirked. “There’s usually some sort of dessert, and they serve more cocktails.”
“Oh. I think I can pass.”
Not missing the tone in your confession, Harry rose from his chair and held his hand out for you. You eagerly took it, giving hasty goodbyes to your table mates, then you followed him back into the hallway just as Greg was giving his final speech, announcing the imminent dessert.
“I have my own sweet, tasty treat,” remarked Harry, patting your ass.
You were mid-giggle, starting to get handsy yourself when you heard a female voice behind you.
“Congratulations, Harry.”
Oh, goddammit, what did she want?
“Thank you,” Harry turned and nodded sharply.
“I always knew you’d make top broker,” Toni continued. “I know I voiced it many times.”
Her tone was sultry as she stepped closer to Harry. Then she placed her hand on his bicep and gave an adoring smile. Your stomach turned and your mouth felt sour as you watched her try to seduce her ex right in front of you.
“Um, no, actually you didn’t,” said Harry.
“Pardon me?”
“You never said that to me, Antoinette. Not once. In fact, if I remember correctly, you used to provoke and torment me by claiming you’d beat me.”
“Oh, that,” Toni dismissed Harry’s accusation with a wave of her hand. “That was just a little game. You enjoyed it, didn’t you baby? You liked trying to rival me. It only made you better.”
Your eyes wide, you nearly smacked her, but you held back your hands and your tongue.
“No, I didn’t enjoy it. And it didn’t make me better. I’m better now because you’re out of my life, Toni.”
Turning away from her, Harry grabbed your hand again and began walking faster. You tried your best to keep up as he led you to the elevators.
“Aw, little Harry is heartbroken so he needed to find a little trollop to mend his ego,” Toni mocked with a sneer.
At that you turned around swiftly. “You’re a horrible person! No wonder he kicked you out!”
“Y/N, please baby-”
“What the hell do you know?” Toni rolled her eyes.
“I know that this man is amazing and sweet and sexy as hell, and you lost out.”
Toni’s jaw dropped open as Harry pulled you toward the open elevator doors.
“I also know that nobody has used the word trollop since the sixties,” you called out just before the doors closed. “The term is slut now, honey.”
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When the elevator stopped, and the doors opened, you followed Harry down the hall, your hand still in his until he stopped at the end of the hallway. Then he pulled a key card out of his jacket pocket and slipped it into the lock.
He had been quiet on the lift, his jaw set. You knew he was angry, and maybe even a little embarrassed. You felt for him, seeing just how vile his ex was. You wanted to make him feel better, but only if he wanted the same.
Stepping into the room, however, you nearly forgot what had just happened when you saw the exquisite view.
“Wow…” you breathed as Harry headed for the bar.
“Nice, yeah?” he wiggled his brows. When he poured two glasses of brandy, however, his expression returned solemn.
“Harry…” you began, walking toward him. “We don’t have to do this.”
“What?”
“If you’re not feeling up to it.”
“Who says I’m not?” he asked, handing you a glass.
“Well, I can tell you’re upset.”
“I’m not. I mean…yeah, she’s…a piece of work,” Harry half-chuckled, shaking his head. Then he looked at you. “But she has nothing to do with us.”
“No?”
“Mm-mm,” he sounded, reaching for your waist with his other hand. “I’m just sorry you had to see that. Cheers?”
You clinked your glass against Harry’s and took a sip, setting your clutch on the bar. He looked over his glass at you and winked. Slowly lowering yours, you grinned.
“So your award was for top broker? What does that mean, you sold the most houses?”
Harry chuckled low. “Houses, hotels, commercial properties...”
“Wow,” you said. “I’m proud of you, Harry.”
“Are you?” he smiled wider.
“Of course, I am. And I wanna show you.”
“Oh. You do.” Taking your glass, Harry set it on the bar next to his. “And how do you wanna do that?”
“Like this…” you said, reaching for his jacket and tugging it off his shoulders.
With a smirk, he shook his arms out of it and tossed it on a nearby chair. Then his eyes sparkled as you ran your hands down his chest and began to unfasten the remaining buttons of his shirt.
Slipping his fingers underneath your jaw, he pulled you into a deep kiss. You moaned against him, letting him know just how badly you wanted to please him. When your own fingers met his waistband, you felt him shudder, a sexy tremble of anticipation as he threw off his shirt. You played with him a bit, letting your fingertips linger along his tattoos after you’d unbuttoned his trousers. Then with a loud sounding of the zipper, you dropped to your knees along with his pants. You heard him gasp out a breath, a tiny one, but audible nonetheless.
You kissed his inner thighs, sweet, tender kisses. Moving up slowly, you reached for his underwear. A low, sexy exhale escaped his throat then, followed by a chuckle.
“Oh, kitten.”
“What?”
“Is this what you want?”
You nodded and licked your lips as his erection sprung from his briefs, meeting you in the face. Harry’s breath hitched in his throat when you took hold of it and wet the tip with your tongue. You looked up at him long enough to see his jaw drop as you enveloped your lips around his hard cock. Then he quickly shut his eyes and inhaled through his nose.
He was big. You knew this already, of course, but having him in your mouth for the first time took a little extra work and finesse. You didn’t think you’d be able to deep throat him, so you did your best with what you had to work with. Lubricating him up with your own saliva, you moaned against his cock while your hand met your lips halfway. Harry’s fingers raked through your hair until they had a good grip. His breaths quickened as he bucked his hips against you, urging you to suck him deeper and harder, your hand to move faster. You obliged to his physical requests until you felt him quiver, then tug harder on your hair.
“Easy, kitten,” he gasped. “Fuck, you’re so good, but I don’t wanna come so fast.”
Clipping your chin with his finger, he gazed down at you.
“Jesus, baby, look at you. So eager and willing to please.”
You nodded, running your hands up his thighs. “Yes, Harry. I wanna please you so bad. Wanna make you feel good.”
Stepping out of his shoes and pants, Harry lifted you from the floor. With his hands cradling your face he pulled you into a deep, wet kiss that nearly sent you back into a pool at his feet. Then slipping his fingers behind your neck, he found the zipper of your dress and tugged it open. Stepping out of it, you let him lead you to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours.
“I wanna make you feel good too, kitten,” Harry promised as he removed your black lacy bra.
“But it’s my turn, Harry,” you argued, climbing onto the bed and sitting on your knees. “You made me feel better last time.”
“Did I? Is that why you left in such a hurry?”
“I told you why I left,” you frowned.
“I know. I’m sorry.” His hands cupped your breasts as he snuck a kiss onto your collarbone.
“Anyway, tonight is about you,” you continued. “And I wanna show you how proud I am of you. How worthy you are.”
“Yeah?” he smirked, sliding his hand down the front of your panties. “Am I worthy of this sweet pussy?”
“Fuck yes,” you hissed.
Harry laughed, “God, you’re so wet already, kitten. I haven’t hardly touched you.”
“That’s the effect you have on me.”
“Good to know. I am lucky.”
He continued to stroke you, his fingertip pressing gently on your already throbbing clit. Still on your knees, they began to give out just from his touch. You grabbed hold of his arms to keep your balance, a tiny cry escaping your lips.
“Oh, sweetheart, you sure this is about me?” Harry raised a brow, teasing you.
“Yes, Harry. I promise. You just…get me worked up.”
“What do you think you do to me, hmm? Sat there next to me in that tiny little dress, your thighs begging to be stroked underneath the table. Your fuckable ass just waiting to be grabbed by my hands. Your fuck-me eyes batting their lashes at me as if I don’t know what that means.”
“I didn’t know they do that,” you mewled as you continued to ride his fingers.
“Oh, yes you do. And you love it. Just like you love how you’re dripping on me right now.”
“But you love it, too,” you said, trying to turn the tables. “You love how hot and wet I am for you.”
“Goddammit, yes I do. C’mere, kitten.”
The air suddenly felt cooler when he removed his hand from your panties. But the warmth was returned quickly as you watched him lay down on the bed and stroke himself.
“Harry,” you pouted. “I’m supposed to do that.”
“Well then hurry up, baby. We may have all night, but I get impatient too.”
You gave him a smirk, knowing he was mocking your impatience from last weekend.
“Just for that, I may just take my time,” you teased, slowly sliding your panties down your hips.
“Please don’t.”
“What would you do if I did?”
“Make myself come,” he replied cheekily, his hand still on his cock.
“Aw, c’mon Harry, play nice.”
He chuckled low, sending another thrill down your spine. Kicking your panties off of your ankle, you let them hit the floor as you crawled cat-like over his naked body.
“Kitten, you are,” he grinned, reaching for your hips. “Looks like I picked the right pet name.”
“Yes,” you agreed. “And now kitty wants a ride.”
Harry growled as you nibbled on his neck. “Condom’s in my jacket, babe,” he whispered. “Forgot to grab it.”
With a tiny pout, you slid off the bed and retrieved his jacket from the chair, and found the condom in the inside picket. Opening it swiftly, you returned to the bed where you eagerly slipped it on his awaiting cock. Lifting your hips, you eased yourself down slowly with a high-pitched groan.
“Gently, kitten,” instructed Harry. “You sure you’re wet enough?”
“Yes,” you sighed. “You just fill me so well.”
“Yeah,” he grinned. “Go slowly though, alright. Don’t wanna hurt you.”
“I can handle it, baby. Question is, can you handle me?”
Harry’s chest shook as he laughed, and you slowly began to ride him. When you began to pick up a little speed, however, Harry started to blink, his head tilting back into the pillow.
“Fuck, kitten, you feel so good.”
“I do? You like how my cunt feels dripping on you?”
“Mmm yeah. So fucking warm and wet.”
“You deserve to feel this good, baby. Every night,” you moaned.
“Yeah? You would fuck me like this every night?” he asked, his hips bucking up against you.
“Mmhmm. Anything you want. You’re such a fucking hot and sexy man. You deserve to be fucked any way you want.”
“Ah yes, fuck me, kitten.”
“She didn’t fuck you like this, did she?” you purred as you rode him faster.
Harry shook his head and gulped. “No.”
“You deserve so much better, baby. You deserve a woman who knows your needs. Who worships your cock.”
Though Harry moaned and let out an expletive, he grabbed your waist and tried to hold you still. “Wait…baby…wait, stop,” he gasped.
“What’s wrong?” you blinked.
“I don’t wanna fuck like this.”
“Like what?”
“Revenge sex, angry sex, whatever this is. I’m done with that, aren’t you?”
You stared at him, confused. “But, I thought-”
“I know, babe,” he interrupted with a nod. “But I don’t want this to be about her. Or him. Just us.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t you?”
“I…yeah, I guess so.”
Harry’s green eyes stared at you, and though they were still filled with lust, a softer look in them also appeared that you hadn’t seen before. “Just you and me, yeah? I think it could be great.”
“Okay,” you nodded.
“Good girl,” he grinned. “Now fuck me.”
You slowly resumed your thrusts, your eyes still locked with his. While you tried to continue the little game you’d been playing, the point seemed moot. Something came over you that you couldn’t describe, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were feeling emotional, overwhelmed. But you couldn’t, could you? This was just a hookup, a mutual agreement. There were no feelings involved. Finally, you stopped all movement.
“What’s wrong, babe?” asked Harry, a bewildered look on his face. “You tired?”
“No. It just…it feels different now.”
“Different…good?”
You shook your head, unable to find the words. “I don’t know. I just…I feel vulnerable.”
Harry’s face softened as he sat up and ran his hands up your back. “I know, baby. But it’s okay. I’m here, yeah? I’ll make you feel good.”
“But I wanted to make you feel good,” you said.
“Then we’ll make each other feel good,” Harry smirked. “C’mon love, it’s alright. We don’t need revenge sex. Those two other people…they mean nothing. We don’t have to use each other anymore. Let’s just…live in the moment.”
Taking in a deep breath, you let it out slowly. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? His arms around you, Harry kissed your lips softly. Then he continued down your jaw and to your neck. Inch by inch, you let the tension fall until his soft, pillowy lips lightly touched your shoulder.
“Mmm, that feels nice,” you breathed before you realized it.
“Doesn’t it?” Harry murmured before looking into your eyes. “I want you, Y/N. I wouldn’t have invited you here if I didn’t. I wouldn’t have gotten this room. For us. You and me, honey. You’re the one I wanna be with.”
Though he didn’t finish the sentence with tonight, you took it as implied.
“Let’s make each other feel good, yeah?” he continued, pecking your mouth again. “I wanna make you come so hard.”
A low moan sounded from deep within your throat before you started to giggle.
“Does that sound good?” Harry wiggled his brows.
“Yeah,” you nodded. “Sounds amazing.”
“Then get that ass up, baby, and turn around for me,” he demanded, patting your behind.
Once on your knees facing away from him, you braced yourself for a quick thrust. But Harry seemed to have other ideas. Instead, he grabbed your hips and pulled you back so that you sat on his lap. Pushing your hair off your shoulder, he kissed your neck just underneath your ear. Then his other hand found your right breast, cupping it and pinching the nipple between his fingertips.
“That feel good, kitten?” he whispered, his breath tickling your flesh.
“Mmm, yes.”
“Good. Now lift up just a bit and bounce on me.”
Doing as you were told had Harry slipping inside you easily just before you bounced back onto his lap, his cock filling you completely.
“Ohhhh,” you gasped. “Fuck.”
“Mmm yeah, babe, do that again.”
With a deep breath, you exhaled as you lifted up to your knees again. This time, however, Harry met you halfway, thrusting up against you as you came down. When you let out another gasp, Harry groaned in your ear.
“Fuck, princess, just like that. Keep going.”
Though your knees were already starting to shake, it was nothing like the nearly exploding feeling in your core. You could feel him fully, all of him in your pussy. And you couldn’t get enough.
You repeated the movements over and over, each time making your toes curl more and more. Finally, you noticed the thrusts weren’t quite as long, as Harry was practically holding you against him, his arm around your waist as he panted in your ear, giving you continuous words of encouragement.
“Oh, kitten you feel so good,” he whined, sliding his free hand down your belly. “I’m so close already. But I want you to come first, alright?”
“Yes.”
“Are you close, too?”
“Yes!”
His fingertips slipped through your folds and pinched your clit. Your knees buckled and you almost fell forward until Harry pulled you up. You could feel his wet, sticky chest against your back as he guided you to your climax.
“Easy, kitten,” he cooed. “I got you. Come for me, sweetheart. I wanna feel that sweet little cunt dripping all over me.”
“Aaaaaa…” you exclaimed, though it was far from an actual word. “Oh, God! Ohhh Haaarrryy….baaaabyyyyy!!!!”
“That’s it, kitten,” he urged, his finger still circling your swollen nub as he continued his thrusts. “Such a good girl. I love making you feel good, baby.”
With a few more whines and pants, you came down from your high, taking deep breaths and hard swallows.
“Mmm,” Harry growled, then kissed your neck. “It’s not over yet, love.”
You chuckled, placing your hand on his thigh. “I know. Shall I stay here, or you want me somewhere else?”
“I’ll let you pick,” he replied.
“Really?” Lifting yourself up, you turned around to face him. “Cause I’d really like to watch you when you come.”
“You got it, babe,” he grinned. Taking your face in his hands, he kissed you with fervor. Then he rolled you onto your back.
“Are you sore, love?” he asked as he resumed his thrusts.
“Not really,” you gulped. “Only in a good way.”
Harry chuckled, “Alright, good. Cause I want you legs up here.” Grabbing hold of your thighs, he lifted them over his shoulders. “That’s it, kitten. Now, keep your pretty eyes on me.”
You had no problem with that request. His arms around you with your knees next to your ears, you couldn’t do much more than stare at him. And he was a sight to behold. A curl had fallen from his forehead, and he already looked fucked out of his mind. Your entire body was on fire, inside and out. You couldn’t look away if you tried.
Because of his close proximity, his thrusts were short and quick, his cock hitting you in just the right spot every time. You tried your best to keep breathing, though you could already feel yourself teetering close to the edge. And Harry’s grunts didn’t help. He was so sexy, and it turned you on knowing you felt good around him.
“So fucking wet baby, god damn,” he panted. “Can I fuck you like this every night?”
You blinked in surprise until you remembered your words from earlier. With a gentle smile, you nodded. “Yes.”
“Promise? Cause I don’t think I can go another week, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” you swore to him, and as you wrapped your arms around his neck, you knew that it wasn’t a lie.
Harry’s breaths quickened, and with a deep groan, he shut his eyes tight. Then with two more thrusts, his body trembled and he gasped in your ear.
“Fuck. Oh, kitten, you’re amazing.”
Your fingers played in his hair as he laid on your chest. You listened to his breaths for a moment until he looked up at you.
“Please don’t leave,” he said.
“What?”
“Tonight. Don’t leave like last time, please. Stay with me.”
After a pause, you allowed your fingertips to draw shapes across his back. Then with a sigh you said his name.
“Hmm?” he sounded, rolling onto his side next to you.
You turned and looked at him, giving him a smile. “I have no intention of leaving.”
With a grin of his own, Harry pulled you close and kissed you, no other words needed.
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Hope you enjoyed! Please like, reblog and comment (or even better send me a message) if you did.
tagging: @kathb59, @kahluamystery97, @triski73, @lovebittenbyevans, @chibijusstuff, @angywritesstuff, @indierockgirrl, @i-dont-want-your-sympathy (you are all ones who commented on part 1 so I hope that's okay.)
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lemoncrushh · 1 day
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i love you albums! i love you listening to the songs in the original order! i love you intros and outros! i love you interludes! i love you concept albums! i love you music!
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lemoncrushh · 2 days
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The Entertainer II - Track 01 - It's Good to See You
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Summary: What if it wasn't the end? What if Sky did actually see Harry at the Forum in the early 80s, and he saw her too? What if fate took hold of them both, and they realized their journey was not over? Set in 1981, Harry and Sky's story continues with more music, more romance, and a few more twists and turns.
STORY PAGE
Track 01 Word Count: 4.1k+
Read The Entertainer
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November 25, 1981
“Ooh the wheel in the sky keeps on turning I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow”
I felt my heart race as I turned my focus back to Steve Perry singing on the stage. My mouth suddenly felt dry, my palms clammy.
It can’t be him, I thought to myself. No. No, it’s not. Just someone who sort of looks like…
I hadn’t seen him in five years. Sure, I’d seen his face - on the television, in all the rock magazines I bought, on the back cover of all three of Wildfire’s albums...and sometimes in my dreams. But I hadn’t seen him in person since that day at the airport when I’d hugged him goodbye and wished him well.
When I’d told him I loved him.
I tried to pay attention to the band in front of me, the one I’d come to see. Journey’s newest album Escape was my current favorite, so when I received a raise at my job, I rewarded myself with a concert ticket to their fourth sold-out show at The Forum, the night before Thanksgiving. Halo had been disappointed she couldn’t make it, but she’d already promised her family she’d visit them for the entire week, so I was attending alone.
I wished Halo was with me right then however, so she could be an extra set of eyes and let me know if that cute guy a couple of sections over was who I thought it was. Instead, I snuck another peek of my own. It was dark in the arena, so I couldn’t get a good look, but his hair and profile fit the memory I had in my head.
Who was I kidding? It couldn’t be him. He was probably overseas in London or some exotic place I’d never heard of. I’d learned that Wildfire broke up earlier that year, so most likely he was resting somewhere - anywhere but Los Angeles. Still…
One more sneaky look out of the corner of my eye, but someone was blocking my view. With a sigh, I listened to Steve finish the song before the band gave their fake goodbyes, and I waited with the rest of the crowd for their encore.
The audience went wild during Journey’s last two songs, and their enthusiasm returned my focus to the reason I’d come. By the time the lights came on in the arena, I’d just about forgotten about him, or whomever the mystery man had been.
That is, until I turned the corner in the hallway after leaving the restroom.
“Sky?”
The sound of my nickname in a crowd full of strangers was odd enough, but the familiar voice threw me for a loop and back in time five years. Turning slowly, I wondered if my mind was playing tricks on me again, but when his handsome face came into view, my thoughts were confirmed.
It was him. And he was standing right in front of me.
“Harry,” I barely breathed.
His chest rose and fell with his own breath as his lips grew into a smile.
“It is you,” he declared with what sounded like relief. “I thought it was and...it is.”
I shrugged shyly. “It’s me.”
Those two seconds were enough to make me forget about the commotion around us, but when someone nearly knocked me into Harry, with barely an “excuse me”, he suggested we step to the side.
“You look wonderful,” he remarked when I took my place against the wall, his gaze leaving my eyes momentarily to shift down my body and back up again.
“Thanks. So do you.”
And he did. He hadn’t changed at all. Maybe...a tiny bit. His hair was still long, if only an inch or so shorter than before. The chocolate curls still brushed his shoulders the way they had five years ago, though they appeared a bit fuller. His jaw lines seemed to be a little more defined, the sharp edges peeking from behind his stubble. The only real difference was probably his choice of clothing, though it didn’t stray too far from the style I’d known him to wear. His long legs were clad in jeans, and boots adorned his feet like before, but he wore a more conservative tan v-neck sweater underneath a brown leather bomber jacket, both of which I decided were very sexy on him. I caught sight of the familiar cross that lay in the center of his chest just before my eyes locked with his once again.
He seemed to stare at me for a few seconds, his dimples slowly disappearing from his cheeks as his lips relaxed until he finally opened his arms and stepped forward, surprising me with an embrace.
“It’s good to see you,” I heard him murmur in my hair.
“You, too,” I replied, his old, familiar scent suddenly overwhelming my senses. I bit my lip to keep the emotions at bay.
“How’ve you been?” he asked, stepping back to look at me again, his hands still grazing my elbows.
“Not bad, I-” I began when I finally noticed the man standing a few feet behind him. He was leaning against a post, probably trying to look inconspicuous, but I figured quickly that he must have been security. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Harry Styles had been a successful front man for the last several years. He was practically a household name.
“Did you come alone?” I heard him ask before I could finish my previous answer.
“Sorry?” I blinked, catching his gaze again.
“To the show? Are you here alone...or did Halo come with?”
“Oh,” I grinned, pleased that he remembered my best friend’s name as well. “No, I’m flying solo tonight.”
A gentle smile spread across his face again, and I thought he was about to ask me something else when I heard a loud gasp behind me.
“Oh my God. You’re Harry Styles!” a woman’s voice squealed.
“Yes, I am,” he nodded.
A tall, slim figure with fiery red hair and the tightest Jordache jeans I’d ever seen walked around me and stood between us as though I wasn’t even there. 
“I have to get your autograph!” she exclaimed.
As she rummaged through her small, yet obviously filled pocketbook, Harry eyed me over her head.
“Don’t leave yet, okay?” he mouthed.
With a nod, I felt my insides flip. He wanted me to stay. While my heart was bursting with the joy of seeing him again, it was all so sudden; I hadn’t really had a chance to process it yet. I caught the twinkle in Harry’s eye as he shrugged at me while he waited for the woman to retrieve a pen from her purse.
“Sorry, honey, I know I have some paper in here somewhere,” she announced
“Take your time,” Harry said genuinely.
I wondered how he could remain so calm and patient. I was already keen on dumping out the contents of her bag onto the dirty floor, and it had barely been twenty seconds.
“Aha!” she called, holding up a mini notepad with a kitten on the front. “Here it is!”
Giving her another winning smile, Harry took the pen and pad from her.
“What’s your name, love?” he asked her, and immediately I saw her beam at him as she jutted her tits out.
Damn him. Why did he have to be so charming?
“Kitty,” the woman replied. I nearly choked.
“Seriously?” Harry chuckled.
“Mmhm,” nodded the redhead. “Like a kitty cat. Meow.”
I covered my mouth with the sleeve of my sweater to keep from laughing as I watched Harry sign Kitty’s little kitten notebook, his eyebrows raised to the ceiling and a goofy look on his face.
“What are you doing after this?” I heard Kitty inquire. “Maybe we could grab a drink or something.”
Although I thought I might vomit, Harry didn’t miss a beat.
“Sorry love, can’t tonight. I’m headed out after this.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Kitty pouted.
“Here you go,” Harry offered, returning the woman’s pen and notebook. “Nice to meet you, Kitty. Have a lovely evening.”
I had to hand it to him. He was definitely a pro at this.
“You too, handsome,” Kitty winked before strutting off with a wave. “Bye bye.”
I noticed the man behind Harry stood up straight from the post he’d been leaning on to watch Ms. Tight Jeans walk away, though it was unclear if it was for security or personal reasons. Before I could ask, Harry stepped closer to me.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “It happens from time to time.”
“I’m sure it does,” I grinned.
Just then, the man tapped Harry on the shoulder. “Harry, sorry man, but we gotta get goin’.”
“Shit,” Harry groaned. “Just...a gimme a sec, Stu, she’s...an old friend. And I got sidetracked by a fan.”
Stu narrowed his eyes before he nodded and held up two fingers like he was giving a peace sign. “Two minutes.”
Harry grimaced as he turned back to me. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I muttered.
“No, it’s not,” he replied hurriedly. “I didn’t expect to run into you, and...I wasn’t thinking straight, and now I’ve got two bloody minutes to talk to you after…”
“The ginger catwoman?” I offered.
Harry giggled, adorable crinkles forming next to his eyes. “Yeah.”
With a feeling of warmth inside down to my toes, I smiled. “How are you, Harry?”
“I’m...doing well, thanks. How about you?”
“You already asked me. It’s your turn. With probably closer to a minute left now.”
With a sigh, Harry tilted his head. “I’ve missed you. You might not believe it, but I have.”
I wasn’t exactly sure if I believed it; he had millions of adoring fans, girls flocking to him at any given moment. He probably hadn’t given me much of a thought. But it was still nice to hear.
“Hey, what am I thinking?” Harry shook his head. “I’m in town for a few weeks. Let’s get together and catch up!”
“Oh. Okay,” I replied, the butterflies resuming their dance in my tummy.
“Do you still live in the same place?”
I chuckled. Five years might not have been an extremely long stretch of time, but a lot had happened. Remembering that apartment I’d shared with Halo felt like eons ago.
“No,” I shook my head. “Halo and I each have our own apartments now. In fact, we’ve both moved a couple of times since then.”
“Oh,” Harry grinned as he scratched his head. “Yeah, I reckon it has been a while.”
“I’ll give you my new number,” I said.
Unfortunately, unlike Kitty, I didn’t carry around my own notepad. But I did have a pen and my ticket stub. Gesturing for Harry to turn around, I used his back for a surface to write on. When I handed him the stub, he glared at me questioningly.
“You could have just written it on my hand,” he smirked. “You might wanna keep this.”
I shrugged, both of us beginning to laugh as we noticed the song that had begun to play in the hallway.
“Call me, on the line Call me, call me any, anytime”
“That’s so funny,” I giggled.
“It’s like it was meant to be,” Harry agreed, his smile sending shivers down my spine.
Stu returned sternly then, his hand slapping Harry’s shoulder and ending our reunion as sharply as the breaking of a mirror.
“Gotta go, buddy,” he said.
“I’ll call you, Sky,” Harry promised. “We definitely need to catch up.”
“Okay,” I nodded, grasping the strap of my shoulder bag, unable to think of anything else to say.
Just as he was about to turn to leave with Stu, Harry stopped and looked at me for a split second. Then erasing the space between us, he pulled me into another hug. And just as quickly, he let go and was gone.
“Anytime, anyplace, anywhere, any day...”
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Locking the door behind me and hooking the latch, I shrugged out of my jacket with a sigh, dropping it across the back of a chair. It had been a long, fulfilling Thanksgiving with my parents, but I was glad to be home. Turning on the radio, I made my way to the bathroom where I prepared a much-needed bubble bath for myself. Stepping into the suds, I sang along to Smokey Robinson.
“You’re gonna fly away, glad you’re goin’ my way I love it when we’re cruisin’ together”
Shutting my eyes, I let the melody, Smokey’s voice and the aroma of the bubble bath soothe me into complete bliss. The sudden abrasive ringing of the telephone startled me, however, and I sat up in the tub, wondering if I had enough time to get up and answer it. But I was so comfortable where I was, and I figured the caller would just call again if it was urgent. When the rings stopped after number four, I sat back and shut my eyes again.
“Let the music take your mind…”
My mind wandered to the night before when I’d run into Harry. I wondered if it had been him calling, and for a second I felt disappointed. But I told myself it probably wasn’t him. He’d said he’d call, but I hadn’t expected him to call me so soon. If I was being honest with myself, I didn’t really expect to hear from him at all.
I only hoped I would.
After listening to a couple more songs, I washed up and drained the tub. Quickly drying off, I headed for my bedroom, grabbed my robe from behind the closet door and slipped into it. Rick Springfield began to serenade me then, confessing his desire to have Jessie’s Girl as I padded into the kitchen for a glass of water. The phone rang again as I swallowed, the liquid suddenly feeling like a rock going down my throat. What if it was him? I stared at the receiver hanging on the wall as it rang a second time, and I slowly set my glass on the counter and reached for the radio knob, lowering the volume. Finally answering on the third ring, I felt fourteen-year-old jitters, like a girl getting her first phone call from a boy.
“Hello?” It came out more like a squeak than I’d wanted it to.
“Hi.” Only one, short word was spoken for his greeting, but it didn’t matter. I knew who it was.
“Hi,” I echoed as I slowly sat down in the kitchen chair.
“Sorry it’s so late. Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, not at all,” I said. “I just got home a little while ago. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m fine. Happy Thanksgiving.”
I giggled, grateful for the good wishes of an American holiday. “Thanks. Did you do anything today?”
“I did, actually,” Harry replied. “Had a lovely dinner with the Azoffs. Turkey and everything.”
“Oh, Mr. Irving!” I exclaimed. “I miss him. How is he?”
“He’s great,” Harry chuckled. “Same ol’ Irving. What about you? How was your day?”
“Good,” I sighed. “Dinner with my parents as usual. Ate too much. As usual.”
“Isn’t that what Thanksgiving is for though?”
“I suppose so,” I grinned. “Especially if it includes my mom’s sweet potatoes.”
“Ah, with the marshmallows on top?”
“You bet.”
Harry laughed again, and I felt that familiar tingle on my skin, giving me goosebumps.
“So, I promised I’d ring you…”
“And you did,” I finished.
“Are you surprised?”
“A little.”
“Why’s that?”
Letting a breath out of my nose, I let the phone cord wrap around my finger. “Well...Harry...it’s been five years. It’s not like we’ve been in touch the whole time, or even at all. Not…” I swallowed hard, “not even one phone call.”
“I’m deeply sorry about that.”
“It’s not that I expected you to keep in touch, you know,” I continued. “When you left, I knew it was probably forever. I wanted you to go be whoever you wanted to be. And you did, and...I’m still very proud of you.”
“I appreciate that, Sky. But I do apologize for not keeping in touch. It’s been...a crazy ride.”
“I understand,” I said, though I didn’t really. “But enough about that. You said you wanted to catch up, so…”
“Yeah, I definitely do,” remarked Harry. “There’s a lot to talk about, though, and I don’t wanna keep you up.”
“It’s okay. I’m off tomorrow and I have no plans but to sleep in. So where should we start? I heard about the band. Are you...doing okay?”
I didn’t know the details of the break up, so I didn’t want to pry too much.
“Oh yeah, it’s fine,” said Harry. “Great even.”
“Are you guys still talking, or is there some animosity?”
“There wasn’t a big fight or anything,” Harry replied. “But yeah, maybe a little bit of tension. We just decided to go our separate ways. Deacon moved back to London. Lee’s girlfriend is having a baby and they’re getting married. So it’s basically just Mitch and me now. He’s with family for the holidays, and I’m just hanging out in L.A. for a bit. Irving and I are talking about a solo project.”
“Solo? Wow, Harry, that’s exciting! Will Mitch still be in your band?”
“I dunno for sure yet, but probably. I haven’t had much of a chance to discuss it with him. It’s still in the beginning stages, so I can’t say too much about it yet.”
“Of course, I understand,” I acknowledged. “Well, whatever you do, I know it will be fantastic.”
“Thanks, Sky,” he said with a grin in his voice.
I chuckled. “It’s so funny to hear you call me that.”
“Why? Are you not Sky anymore?”
“Only to Halo,” I replied. “No one else calls me Sky nowadays.”
“Oh. So you reclaimed Mary Lou, did you?”
“Nope. Just Mary to most people. That’s what I go by at work anyway. Only my mom calls me Mary Lou when she thinks she’s scolding me.”
Harry’s laugh rang through the phone, the sound making me feel nostalgic and lonely at the same time. I’d missed him more that I’d been willing to admit.
“Well, am I allowed to call you Sky?” he asked.
“Sure. If you want to.”
“Yeah. You’ll always be Sky to me. ‘Like the colour of the sky just before the rain.’”
My throat made an involuntary gulping sound as I realized I was holding back emotions. “I...can’t believe you remember that.”
“Of course I do, love. I remember a lot of things.”
Trying my best to push down the feelings rising in my chest, I gave a short chuckle. “Like what?”
“Like...the Joni Mitchell song you sang for me. Sleeping on your sofa. The night at the Holiday Inn.”
Goosebumps erupted all over my skin, even on my scalp, and I felt like I was floating. He remembered. Which meant...he’d probably thought about me before.
“And there’s my guitar, of course,” he added. “The acoustic Martin that I play sometimes. You were with me when I bought it.”
“I’m so glad you still have it,” I smiled.
“Well, it’s a great guitar,” Harry declared with a laugh. Then I heard him sigh before he spoke again. “So tell me about you, Sky. What has...Mary Jones been doing the last five years?”
I bit my lip as I rose from my chair, deciding to make a cup of cocoa. The radio still played low, like the background soundtrack from a movie scene. As if on cue, I heard the beginning chords of a familiar song, one from Wildfire’s second album. It had been one of my favorites and one of their biggest hits. I felt a ping of disappointment that I hadn’t been in touch with Harry at that time, and a bit of regret that I hadn’t made a point to see him on tour when he’d come to L.A. that year. But I just couldn’t. I hadn’t really known why, and despite Halo telling me I wasn’t over him yet, I’d sworn that I was.
But maybe I wasn’t. Maybe I was afraid that he wouldn’t want to talk to me, the way he was talking to me now. Or worse, that he wouldn’t remember me at all.
“I um...I work for an insurance company,” I explained, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. “In an office. Nothing fancy or exciting.”
“Well, that’s great. And you have your own place?”
“Yeah. It’s nothing fancy either, but it’s mine.”
“Wonderful. Do you still play guitar and sing?”
“I do,” I replied. “But not as much as I’d like to. Work gets in the way, you know? Life.”
Harry chuckled low. “That’s too bad. I really hope you stick with it. You have a beautiful voice.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, grateful that he couldn’t see the red on my face.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
His question rang in my ears for several seconds as I waited for the water to boil. I thought fleetingly of Bill, a man one of my co-workers, Donna, had set me up with the weekend before last. While he’d been nice enough, there’d been no chemistry. That had seemed to be the normal pattern for most of my dating history. With the exception of Alan, whom I’d seen for a few months in 1980, I hadn’t had any serious relationships.
“No,” I finally replied, pouring the water into the mug.
“Oh. Well good, I reckoned I’d make sure before I asked you to dinner tomorrow night.”
I couldn’t stop the smile on my face. “You were gonna ask me out?”
“Yeah, well...if you want to. I know it’s getting late and...I’d really like to see you again. I still have loads to tell you, but I’d like to do it in person. We could catch up some more. And I’d love to see your place...if that’s okay.”
“I think...that’s more than okay,” I managed to say, somewhat surprising myself.
I actually heard him sigh like he was relieved before he said, “Great.”
After giving him my address, we chatted lightly until saying our goodbyes.
“See you tomorrow, Sky. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“Me too. Goodnight, Harry.”
My cheeks felt pinched from smiling, my face warm as I returned the phone to the wall. Time was a funny thing, I thought. It had taken me a long time to get over Harry Styles. Even when I’d thought I was, the memory of him had always lingered. Not hate or bitterness, just...longing. And then out of the blue, seeing and talking to him again...it was as though time had erased everything in between. The feelings I’d had for him all those years ago had returned in just a short telephone conversation.
I heard a slow song begin to play on the radio, and I turned up the volume as I grabbed my mug and sat back down at the table. The words hit me hard like a thunderclap through my chest.
“Hello again, hello Just called to say hello…”
Staring at the wall, every single memory of Harry replayed in my mind as tears streamed down my face. I remembered everything he’d mentioned earlier and more. I remembered dancing in my room to the old Buddy Holly record, and the way his lips felt when he’d first kissed me. I remembered the way my heart broke in two when I’d thought he was in his room with Pippa, and the way his green eyes silently spoke to me when we’d made love. I recalled the way his arms felt around me, the sound of his voice saying my real name, his laugh when I’d said something funny, the look on his face when I’d told him I loved him. I remembered the way he owned the stage in that honky tonk in Chula Vista, the way he’d cried the night he told me about Simon, his ecstatic voice when he’d called me to tell me Wildfire’s album had gone gold, and the photos that I hadn’t realized until later he’d taken of me with my camera - the same ones that still laid in the bottom of my nightstand. I hadn’t actually forgotten any of it. I’d only stored it all in the back of my brain for safe keeping.
“And I know it’s late But I couldn’t wait...hello”
By the end of the song, my cocoa was cold, and I cursed Neil Diamond for making me bawl. But it was what I’d needed. I hadn’t cried over Harry in years.
“I missed you so much,” I whispered to no one.
Then rising from the table, I poured the cold cocoa down the drain and turned off the radio. Perhaps tomorrow I could tell him in person.
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Songs mentioned:
Journey - Wheel in the Sky
Blondie - Call Me
Smokey Robinson - Cruisin'
Rick Springfield - Jessie's Girl
Neil Diamond - Hello Again
How did you like this little reunion? Let's chat!
As always, feedback and reblogs are appreciated :).
tagging: @daphnesutton, @fkinavocado
25 notes · View notes
lemoncrushh · 2 days
Text
Dressing For Revenge 2
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I had a few requests for a continuation of this story, so here it is!
Summary: A week after your night with Harry, he calls and invites you to a work-related event which his ex also attends.
Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), all the good stuff. MUST BE 18+ TO READ.
Word Count: 7.6k+
Read part 1 here
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The microwave beeped offensively loud as you changed into your favorite pajamas. Slipping into a pair of fuzzy socks, you sauntered into the kitchen and grabbed a large bowl from the cabinet. Movies and popcorn sounded like a great plan for a night in. After the debacle the previous weekend, you’d scheduled this Friday evening for yourself. No parties, no nightclubs, no friends. Just you and a chick flick. And maybe some wine.
Deciding to pour a glass, you grabbed it and the popcorn and made yourself comfortable on the sofa. While laughing at Jennifer Lopez hiding from Matthew McConaughey, you felt your phone buzz. Expecting it to be Kelsie or one of your friends from work texting you, you were surprised to see a different name on the screen.
Hi Y/N. How are you?
Your stomach unexpectedly flipped just seeing your name in print underneath his. You hadn’t heard from Harry since he’d called you that night to make sure you’d gotten home okay. Not that you’d expected to. It had only been a week after all. And of course it was a two-way street. You could have texted him. But you hadn’t. But that didn’t mean you hadn’t thought of him.
Hi, Harry. You texted back. I’m fine. You?
Oh hey. I didn’t expect you to reply right away. Are you at home?
You bit your lip. Was he fishing for an invite? Shaking your head, you typed, Yes.
Mind if I call?
With a half squeal, half groan, you replied, Not at all.
Although you had literally just been texting with him, feeling the vibration in your hand and seeing his name again on the screen as your phone rang sent a new rush through your veins.
“Hi,” you answered nonchalantly.
“Hi, Y/N, how are you?”
You chuckled. “You asked me that already.”
“Right. So I did. Um…didn’t expect you to be home on a Friday night,” said Harry.
“That’s because I have a date.”
“Oh?”
“With myself,” you finished, reaching for your glass and taking another sip of wine.
“Oh,” he let out a breathy laugh. He sounded relieved, which only made your heart beat faster. “And how’s that going so far?”
“Not bad. I figure at this rate I’ll be taking myself to bed by midnight.”
Harry snickered harder at your joke. You smiled, happy that you could make him laugh.
“What are you up to tonight, Harry?” you asked.
“Pretty much the same thing, although I’m not sure I’m quite as compatible.”
“No?”
“Mmm,” he sounded. “Am I allowed to say I’m a little jealous?”
You chuckled, though you didn’t really give an answer.
“Which brings me to the reason I called,” Harry continued. “I have something to ask you. A favor, if you will.”
“Oh?”
“You can say no, and I’ll completely understand if you do. I know I said you could call me if you wanted to get together again…”
“Harry, what is it?” you persisted.
You half expected him to say he was horny and lonely, that he wanted you to come over for a quick fix. But you were surprised when he had a different proposition.
“I have a…a thing tomorrow night. A real estate thing. It’s like a corporate dinner where we meet up with the management companies and investors, announce the top brokers and give awards and such. And I was…wondering if you’d come as my date.”
“Oh…” you mused. “You’re allowed to bring a date?”
“Of course. In fact, it’s almost mandatory.” You heard Harry do the breathy laugh again and wondered if he made that part up, or if it was meant to be a joke.
“I see. And…you’re inviting me?”
“I am. I know we don’t know each other well. And you’ll probably be bored out of your mind, and I wouldn’t blame you one bit. It’s just…”
“Just what?” you asked when his words trailed off.
“I didn’t tell you this before because there was no reason to. But my ex is in real estate as well. That’s how we…you know…met.”
“Ah, so she’ll be there.”
“Correct,” Harry sighed.
“And you want me to make her jealous,” I added in a half question.
“Not jealous, really,” replied Harry. “More like revenge. To show her I’m better off without her. Like we did to your ex last weekend.”
“I see,” you said again.
You heard Harry sigh again, then groan. “I’m sorry, Y/N. It sounded better in my head.”
“I didn’t say no.”
“Well, no, but you’re probably thinking it. I swear, I don’t want this to seem like I’m using you. I genuinely like you, Y/N. And I’m very much attracted to you.”
You started to giggle, setting your glass back down on the coffee table.
“What’s so funny?” Harry asked solemnly.
“I used you, Harry. Last weekend. In fact, you wanted me to. And now you’re saying you’re not wanting to use me? For the exact same reason?”
“I reckon you’re right.”
“Of course I am. Now. Let’s just call a spade a spade. What time is this event tomorrow?”
“So you’re going?”
“Of course, I am. You did me a solid, and now I can do one back. Besides, it might be a little fun.”
“Alright,” said Harry, a smile in his voice. “It starts at eight. I can pick you up around seven thirty, if that’s okay.”
“That’s perfect. How formal is this, like black tie, or business casual?”
“Somewhere in between. A cocktail dress should be fine.”
“Sounds good. I look forward to it, Harry,” you announced honestly.
“Good. Me too. Thanks for doing this, love.”
After hanging up the phone, you rushed to your closet to pick out something to wear for the event. Even though you hadn’t wanted to let on over the phone, you were beyond excited to see Harry again. This time, you got to be his arm candy and not Luke’s. And unlike with Luke, you had a feeling Harry would only have eyes for you.
As long as his heart didn’t still belong to his ex.
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You’d just dabbed on some lipgloss when you heard the buzzer. Pressing the intercom button, you instructed Harry to come on up to your apartment. But when the knock sounded and you swung the door open, you nearly had to hold on to the knob to keep your balance.
“Shit,” you muttered at the same time Harry exclaimed “God damn!”
With a nervous laugh, you caught the twinkle in Harry’s eyes as he leaned against the door jam, his gaze raking over your body.
He looked delicious. Similar to the previous weekend, he wore a silk shirt, unbuttoned plenty to catch peeks at his tattoos and pecks. Over it was a black suit with the jacket open, the slacks fitting him well in all the right places.
“Fuck me, kitten, you look stunning,” said Harry, expressing your thoughts before your mouth could.
You blushed, your hands self-consciously running down your waist and hips. You must have chosen the right dress for the evening. It was a short, fitted, black lace dress with a high neck and long sleeves. You felt like it was tasteful, yet sexy. Harry seemed to agree as he stepped over the threshold and reached for your waist, pulling you to him.
“Wow,” he breathed in your ear. “How lucky am I?”
“Hmm, I guess we’ll see,” you teased, inhaling his intoxicating cologne.
Harry chuckled low. “Is that how it’s gonna be, then, kitten?” You felt his hands travel down to your butt. And you didn’t stop him when he lowered his mouth to your neck.
“Yes,” you whispered as he sucked on your delicate flesh.
“Maybe we should just ditch this party all together and stay here instead.”
“Now, Harry,” you tsked, pushing his shoulders away. “I thought this was important.”
His laugh vibrated in his chest as he nodded. “Indeed. Thanks so much again for doing this.”
Pursing your lips, you winked at him. Then grabbing your clutch, you followed him out the door and downstairs to his car. When he opened it for you, you immediately got a whiff of the expensive leather, an aroma you’d found pleasant and comforting the last time. It reminded you of the smell of his bedroom, and you quickly clamped your thighs together when you climbed into the front seat, the memory of that night in his bed arousing you.
The drive to the venue was quick, for which you were grateful since you couldn’t manage to keep your eyes off of Harry’s hands on the wheel and gear shift, and the way his thighs looked in those pants. He made some small talk, but your mind was elsewhere, almost wishing you’d taken him up on the offer to stay at your place.
When he parked the car in front of a fancy hotel, you gasped. “It’s in here?”
You recognized the place. Well, obviously anyone would. But you’d been there before. Luke had taken you there once when you-
“Well, it only seemed natural,” replied Harry as he turned off the engine, “seeing as the company owns this property.”
Jerking your head, you stared at Harry with wide eyes, astonished. “Oh my God! I knew you were rich, but…oh my God!”
With a chuckle and a gleam in his eye, Harry opened his car door and rounded to your side where you still sat with your mouth agape. You eventually smiled, taking Harry’s awaiting hand and letting him lead you to the entrance and through the hotel lobby to the elevators. A cluster of people were gathered nearby and Harry slowed and whispered in your ear.
“Some of my colleagues,” he explained. “Shall I introduce you?”
“Of course,” you grinned. “As long as you’re not ashamed to be seen with me.”
“Are you kidding?” he smirked, giving your butt a pat before quickly guiding you toward the men.
“Gentlemen!” he greeted boisterously.
“Harry, my good man, how are you?” one of the men broke from the pack to offer his hand.
“Can’t complain,” Harry replied, shaking hands. “How about yourself?”
“Same here,” the man nodded, though his eyes seemed to wander to you eagerly. “And who is this gorgeous angel you brought with you?”
You felt Harry’s hand glide down your back. “Greg, I’d like you to meet Y/N, Y/N this is Greg Hawthorne, Chairman of the Board.”
“How do you do, sweetheart,” said Greg.
“Lovely to meet you,” you smiled, taking his hand though you had no idea what a Chairman of the Board was.
Just then, you were saved by the ding that the awaiting elevator announced, and you and Harry followed the rest of the group up to another floor. More groups of people were gathered there, and down the hall. Harry stopped a couple more times to introduce you to more colleagues. You knew for certain you would never be able to remember their names, but you figured that wasn’t the reason for the pleasantries.
When you came to a large, open, double doorway, you were greeted by another man and woman who welcomed you both to the event. Stepping inside the massive room, you took in the view of what appeared to be a ballroom, filled with cloth-covered tables with fancy centerpieces. At the far end was a stage, a podium erected in the center and a large screen next to it. The chandeliers were enough to take your breath away, and when Harry guided you toward one of the tables, you noticed the gold-leafed placards.
“This is nicer than most weddings I’ve been to,” you whispered to Harry, lifting the placard in front of you that held his name.
Your date only grinned, but you quickly felt a hand on your knee underneath the table. He gave it a nice squeeze, and you giggled.
“None of that, Mr. Styles,” you warned. “We’re in public.”
“Oh, so I can’t even touch you?”
“I didn’t say that. Just be careful. I’m very ticklish. People may get the wrong idea.”
“I see,” he smirked with sexy eyes. “I’ll try to be discreet, then.”
The room started to fill up, and Harry was greeted so many times that you just remained standing. You had to admit, it felt good to be the companion of someone so popular. Luke’s popularity was nothing compared to this. And everyone seemed to be very fond of Harry.
However, after a quick chat with one of Harry’s friends, you felt his hand twist the back of your dress. Taking a step back to keep your balance, you looked at him and noticed how much the expression on his face had instantly changed.
“What happened?” you inquired. “Is something wrong?”
“She’s here,” he said, his voice low but clear.
“Oh,” you whispered. “Where?”
Harry loosened his jaw, then cleared his throat, looked down and scratched his nose. “Right there. Blue dress.”
Scanning the entrance, you picked out the woman. While she was attractive, she was not what you had pictured. Not that you had any point of reference, but she just didn’t seem like someone you would have thought Harry would have been in a relationship with.
“Oh, I see,” you commented, unsure of what else to say.
A waiter came around with a tray of champagne, blocking your view of Harry’s ex. You graciously accepted a glass, and Harry suggested you both take a seat.
“Hello, Harry,” you heard behind you just as you’d turned.
Harry exhaled through his nose before addressing her. “Good evening, Toni. You’re looking well.”
Toni flipped her hair from her shoulder and grinned triumphantly. Then her eyes fell on you.
“Antoinette Bloom, how do you do?” she said, offering her hand to you.
“Y/N Y/LN, nice to meet you.” You tried your best to give the most nonchalant, yet genuine greeting, hoping Harry was pleased. The corners of your mouth began to curve upwards when you felt his hand on your back once again.
“I hear you closed on the MacHouser deal, Harry,” Toni turned her attention back to her ex. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” he half-bowed, “it was a team effort.”
“Of course.”
Just then, another tall man appeared, his hand on Toni’s shoulder. “Darling, I found our table over there. I think it’s about to get started.”
“Oh, yes,” she grinned. “Good to see you, Harry.” She merely nodded at you, and didn’t even bother introducing the man who was already guiding her to the right side of the ballroom. You felt Harry let out a long breath.
“That wasn’t so bad,” you assured with a smile.
“Wasn’t so great either,” he frowned.
You slid your hand up his arm, squeezing his bicep. “Could have been worse.”
Finally looking at you, Harry’s frown turned into a grin. Your insides flipped when his dimples appeared and he pulled you close to him.
“She’s got nothing on you, you know.”
“Except history,” you remarked.
Harry chuckled. “C’mon, love. Let’s sit and enjoy this evening. Together.”
“Sounds good,” you agreed as Harry helped push in your chair. “By the way, did you know him?”
“Who?”
“The man she was with. She didn’t introduce him.”
“Oh. Yeah. He’s the uh…”
When Harry paused, your eyes widened in astonishment. “Him? She left you for that guy?”
“Well, no, she didn’t leave me, I kicked her out.”
“Because she was cheating on you. With him!”
Harry covered your hand with his. “Let’s not get into it, babe. Not now.”
With a huff, you sat back in your chair, crossing your arms. What an idiot this woman was! Fucking moron!
Harry chuckled low, making you look over at him. “What?”
“You look like a defiant child sat there like that, kitten.”
With a snort, you sat up straight. “Sorry. I just don’t think she knew how good she had it.”
“And how good is that?” Harry leaned closer, his hand sliding up your thigh under the table.
“Harry…” you mouthed, barely able to get out a breath as his fingers played with the hem of your dress.
“Oh, good evening Harry!” a plump man announced, grabbing the chair on the other side of him. “Looks like Marla and I are at your table.”
“Hi, Tom, how are things?” Harry quickly rose from his chair to shake hands with the man, then with the woman he was with.
“Well, as they say…same shit, different day!” Tom cackled.
Harry laughed, “Yes, indeed.” Then he introduced you to Tom and his wife, Marla, who both already seemed like very nice people.
Two more couples arrived shortly after, rounding out your table. Soon enough, the waiters came around with plates of food. You gawked at the presentation of the scrumptious looking chicken dish in front of you.
“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered in your ear. “I forgot to tell you I ordered the food weeks ago. I hope chicken is okay.”
“Of course, no problem,” you replied.
“Obviously I knew I wouldn’t be here with Toni, but I reckoned chicken was a safe bet.”
“It’s perfectly fine,” you insisted.
“So, how did you two meet?” Marla asked after Tom had made a toast.
Harry looked over at you and you felt your face flush.
“Um…the traditional way,” replied Harry. “At a nightclub.”
“Oh!” Marla giggled when Harry winked, putting you at ease.
Once again, you felt Harry’s hand on you underneath the table. Instead of squeezing your knee, he slid his palm up dangerously, allowing his fingers to rest just inside your thigh. You gasped out a breath, swiftly grabbing your champagne, hoping no one noticed.
Chatter and small talk filled the room until the lights dimmed slightly and the man from the elevator stepped up to the podium. He announced himself as Greg Hawthorne and welcomed you all to tonight’s gala. Then the television monitor came to life and displayed a quick introduction to the firm. While most of it was over your head, you were once again impressed by the company and what real estate it owned. After another quick spiel, Greg introduced the CEO who joined him at the podium, gave a short speech and sat back down at his table. Then Greg proceeded with the awards ceremony, starting with one for another man you’d met earlier.
Having finished your delicious chicken, you placed your fork down on your plate, and dabbed your lips with a napkin. When everyone clapped, you joined in.
Harry leaned over and whispered in your ear. “Bored yet?”
“No,” you smiled. “I’m having a lovely time.”
“Liar.”
“No, I’m not,” you insisted with a laugh.
You reached for his hand then, pulling it underneath the tablecloth, setting it in your lap. You covered it with your other hand for reassurance. Harry beamed at you, then kissed your temple.
Just then, a name you hadn’t wished to hear was announced. Antoinette Bloom stepped up on stage to receive her award, though you’d missed what she’d earned it for. You felt Harry’s body go still next to you.
“You okay?” you whispered.
“Um, yeah. Yeah,” he sighed. “I’m fine.”
“It’s still hard to see her, isn’t it?”
“No, no…it’s…it’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Harry, it’s okay,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I get it. Remember?”
His green eyes stared at you and you thought you saw them water, but he blinked quickly. Then he pulled his hand from your grasp and reached for his champagne, gulping it down. You looked around your table and saw more sets of eyes, either on Harry or trying to divert their gaze. They all knew. They had probably known them when they were a couple. Suddenly, you felt like a duck out of water, and just as Toni was finishing her speech, you excused yourself to the ladies’ room.
When you made it to the stall, and took several deep breaths, you started talking to yourself. Reminding yourself that you were doing Harry a favor. You were his plus one because he wanted some sort of revenge, or proof for his ex to see he didn’t need her anymore - just as Harry had done for you the weekend before with Luke.
This isn’t about you, you stupid bitch. After tonight you’ll probably never see him again.
After washing up and touching up your lip gloss, you opened the door to see Harry standing in the hallway.
“Hey. What are you doing out here?” you asked.
“Checking on you. You rushed out so quickly.”
“Sorry. Must have been the champagne.”
Harry took two steps closer, enough to reach out and finger a curl on your shoulder. “Liar,” he muttered.
With a sigh, you shook your head. “Harry…”
“Y/N. I’m the one who should apologize. I made a fool of myself, trying to act like I didn’t care she was here. You were right.”
“I was?” you gulped.
“It’s still hard,” he nodded. “I mean…it’s not like I want her back. I don’t really want anything to do with her. Just…seeing her reminds me, you know?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m sorry, darling. I really am.” Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, and you took that as your cue.
“It’s okay. Shall I get an Uber, or…”
“What?” Harry’s eyes widened. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
“Well…um…,” you stumbled. “Don’t you want me to?”
“Oh, God, honey, no! No! I didn’t mean to imply that at all!”
You fiddled with the clutch in your hands as you stared at him incredulously. “I’m confused.”
Reaching for your waist, Harry pulled you even closer. “Baby, I want you to stay. Please. I enjoy your company. And even though this is probably boring you to tears, you look so fucking sexy, I want...”
“What?” you asked when his words trailed off.
“I…” Harry searched down either end of the hallway, making sure no one was within earshot. Then he guided you backwards against the wall. “I wanna eat you up,” he growled.
“Oh!” you squeaked just before his mouth collided with yours.
His kisses were rough and urgent. His stubble scratched against your delicate skin. And you loved it. Gasping for a breath, you grabbed hold of his jacket lapels.
“Harry…”
“I want you so bad, kitten,” he whined. God, that sounded hot. “Been thinking about you all fucking week. Took everything I had in me not to call sooner.”
“Really?”
Just then, two other women started down the hall toward you. Harry straightened up and you pretended to be looking for something in your bag. When they passed and entered the restroom, you raised your head. Harry was staring at you like a tiger about to pounce its prey. When he blinked slowly, you could hear him swallow hard.
“I got a room,” he finally said.
Your jaw dropped. “A roo-, here?”
“Yeah. I know it’s presumptuous of me. But I was hoping…you might…wanna stay with me tonight.”
As he said those words, he moved closer to you, slowly like a dream. Chills erupted down your body, and you found yourself eagerly allowing him into your embrace. His lips met yours again, this time sweet and wet.
“I-I thought…” you breathed between kisses, “when you froze next to me…when she got her award…that you…”
“Shh,” Harry sounded, silencing you with more kisses. “Baby girl…let me make it clear. I don’t want her. I want you.”
You thought you saw the shadows of the women returning from the bathroom, but neither you nor Harry moved an inch. His gaze pierced through you, you melted, and you may have even let out a moan.
“I want you, too. So bad.”
“Good,” he growled, sliding his hand around your neck. Then kissing you one more time, he stood up straight and said, “Let’s get out of here.”
Taking your hand, you were halfway down the hall when Tom emerged from the ballroom.
“Harry!,” he said. “They need you in here!”
“What for?”
“Your award!”
Harry cursed under his breath, and you chuckled as he tugged on your hand and led you back into the ballroom.
“There he is!” shouted Greg from the podium. “C’mon Harry, everyone who’s awarded has to get up here.”
Harry snorted, then gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before heading up to the stage. With a cheesy grin on your face, you made it back to your table and joined everyone in clapping as Harry accepted his award. You hadn’t even heard what it was for, but it didn’t matter. You were proud of him regardless, and you planned on showing him just how proud you were later in the room he’d said he’d gotten.
You watched your handsome date as he gave his acceptance speech, the glow on his face. When he was finished, he gave a quick nod and thank you, then began to make his way between the tables. You noticed Toni staring at him, but your grin spread when Harry paid her no mind, and instead beamed at you with his dimpled smile.
“Congrats, Harry!” exclaimed Tom when Harry reached your table. “I was worried you’d either gone or didn’t care about receiving an award. But I see I was wrong on both accounts. Well-deserved, my friend.”
“Thanks, Tom.”
Although Harry’s words were addressed to the man on his left, his eyes hadn’t left yours.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“Now?” you half-chuckled, half-gasped.
“Yes,” he replied, his voice suddenly an octave lower.
“Oh, don’t leave yet, you two!” Marla whisper-shouted. “You’ll miss the best part!”
“Best part?” you inquired, eyeing both Marla and Harry.
Harry smirked. “There’s usually some sort of dessert, and they serve more cocktails.”
“Oh. I think I can pass.”
Not missing the tone in your confession, Harry rose from his chair and held his hand out for you. You eagerly took it, giving hasty goodbyes to your table mates, then you followed him back into the hallway just as Greg was giving his final speech, announcing the imminent dessert.
“I have my own sweet, tasty treat,” remarked Harry, patting your ass.
You were mid-giggle, starting to get handsy yourself when you heard a female voice behind you.
“Congratulations, Harry.”
Oh, goddammit, what did she want?
“Thank you,” Harry turned and nodded sharply.
“I always knew you’d make top broker,” Toni continued. “I know I voiced it many times.”
Her tone was sultry as she stepped closer to Harry. Then she placed her hand on his bicep and gave an adoring smile. Your stomach turned and your mouth felt sour as you watched her try to seduce her ex right in front of you.
“Um, no, actually you didn’t,” said Harry.
“Pardon me?”
“You never said that to me, Antoinette. Not once. In fact, if I remember correctly, you used to provoke and torment me by claiming you’d beat me.”
“Oh, that,” Toni dismissed Harry’s accusation with a wave of her hand. “That was just a little game. You enjoyed it, didn’t you baby? You liked trying to rival me. It only made you better.”
Your eyes wide, you nearly smacked her, but you held back your hands and your tongue.
“No, I didn’t enjoy it. And it didn’t make me better. I’m better now because you’re out of my life, Toni.”
Turning away from her, Harry grabbed your hand again and began walking faster. You tried your best to keep up as he led you to the elevators.
“Aw, little Harry is heartbroken so he needed to find a little trollop to mend his ego,” Toni mocked with a sneer.
At that you turned around swiftly. “You’re a horrible person! No wonder he kicked you out!”
“Y/N, please baby-”
“What the hell do you know?” Toni rolled her eyes.
“I know that this man is amazing and sweet and sexy as hell, and you lost out.”
Toni’s jaw dropped open as Harry pulled you toward the open elevator doors.
“I also know that nobody has used the word trollop since the sixties,” you called out just before the doors closed. “The term is slut now, honey.”
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When the elevator stopped, and the doors opened, you followed Harry down the hall, your hand still in his until he stopped at the end of the hallway. Then he pulled a key card out of his jacket pocket and slipped it into the lock.
He had been quiet on the lift, his jaw set. You knew he was angry, and maybe even a little embarrassed. You felt for him, seeing just how vile his ex was. You wanted to make him feel better, but only if he wanted the same.
Stepping into the room, however, you nearly forgot what had just happened when you saw the exquisite view.
“Wow…” you breathed as Harry headed for the bar.
“Nice, yeah?” he wiggled his brows. When he poured two glasses of brandy, however, his expression returned solemn.
“Harry…” you began, walking toward him. “We don’t have to do this.”
“What?”
“If you’re not feeling up to it.”
“Who says I’m not?” he asked, handing you a glass.
“Well, I can tell you’re upset.”
“I’m not. I mean…yeah, she’s…a piece of work,” Harry half-chuckled, shaking his head. Then he looked at you. “But she has nothing to do with us.”
“No?”
“Mm-mm,” he sounded, reaching for your waist with his other hand. “I’m just sorry you had to see that. Cheers?”
You clinked your glass against Harry’s and took a sip, setting your clutch on the bar. He looked over his glass at you and winked. Slowly lowering yours, you grinned.
“So your award was for top broker? What does that mean, you sold the most houses?”
Harry chuckled low. “Houses, hotels, commercial properties...”
“Wow,” you said. “I’m proud of you, Harry.”
“Are you?” he smiled wider.
“Of course, I am. And I wanna show you.”
“Oh. You do.” Taking your glass, Harry set it on the bar next to his. “And how do you wanna do that?”
“Like this…” you said, reaching for his jacket and tugging it off his shoulders.
With a smirk, he shook his arms out of it and tossed it on a nearby chair. Then his eyes sparkled as you ran your hands down his chest and began to unfasten the remaining buttons of his shirt.
Slipping his fingers underneath your jaw, he pulled you into a deep kiss. You moaned against him, letting him know just how badly you wanted to please him. When your own fingers met his waistband, you felt him shudder, a sexy tremble of anticipation as he threw off his shirt. You played with him a bit, letting your fingertips linger along his tattoos after you’d unbuttoned his trousers. Then with a loud sounding of the zipper, you dropped to your knees along with his pants. You heard him gasp out a breath, a tiny one, but audible nonetheless.
You kissed his inner thighs, sweet, tender kisses. Moving up slowly, you reached for his underwear. A low, sexy exhale escaped his throat then, followed by a chuckle.
“Oh, kitten.”
“What?”
“Is this what you want?”
You nodded and licked your lips as his erection sprung from his briefs, meeting you in the face. Harry’s breath hitched in his throat when you took hold of it and wet the tip with your tongue. You looked up at him long enough to see his jaw drop as you enveloped your lips around his hard cock. Then he quickly shut his eyes and inhaled through his nose.
He was big. You knew this already, of course, but having him in your mouth for the first time took a little extra work and finesse. You didn’t think you’d be able to deep throat him, so you did your best with what you had to work with. Lubricating him up with your own saliva, you moaned against his cock while your hand met your lips halfway. Harry’s fingers raked through your hair until they had a good grip. His breaths quickened as he bucked his hips against you, urging you to suck him deeper and harder, your hand to move faster. You obliged to his physical requests until you felt him quiver, then tug harder on your hair.
“Easy, kitten,” he gasped. “Fuck, you’re so good, but I don’t wanna come so fast.”
Clipping your chin with his finger, he gazed down at you.
“Jesus, baby, look at you. So eager and willing to please.”
You nodded, running your hands up his thighs. “Yes, Harry. I wanna please you so bad. Wanna make you feel good.”
Stepping out of his shoes and pants, Harry lifted you from the floor. With his hands cradling your face he pulled you into a deep, wet kiss that nearly sent you back into a pool at his feet. Then slipping his fingers behind your neck, he found the zipper of your dress and tugged it open. Stepping out of it, you let him lead you to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours.
“I wanna make you feel good too, kitten,” Harry promised as he removed your black lacy bra.
“But it’s my turn, Harry,” you argued, climbing onto the bed and sitting on your knees. “You made me feel better last time.”
“Did I? Is that why you left in such a hurry?”
“I told you why I left,” you frowned.
“I know. I’m sorry.” His hands cupped your breasts as he snuck a kiss onto your collarbone.
“Anyway, tonight is about you,” you continued. “And I wanna show you how proud I am of you. How worthy you are.”
“Yeah?” he smirked, sliding his hand down the front of your panties. “Am I worthy of this sweet pussy?”
“Fuck yes,” you hissed.
Harry laughed, “God, you’re so wet already, kitten. I haven’t hardly touched you.”
“That’s the effect you have on me.”
“Good to know. I am lucky.”
He continued to stroke you, his fingertip pressing gently on your already throbbing clit. Still on your knees, they began to give out just from his touch. You grabbed hold of his arms to keep your balance, a tiny cry escaping your lips.
“Oh, sweetheart, you sure this is about me?” Harry raised a brow, teasing you.
“Yes, Harry. I promise. You just…get me worked up.”
“What do you think you do to me, hmm? Sat there next to me in that tiny little dress, your thighs begging to be stroked underneath the table. Your fuckable ass just waiting to be grabbed by my hands. Your fuck-me eyes batting their lashes at me as if I don’t know what that means.”
“I didn’t know they do that,” you mewled as you continued to ride his fingers.
“Oh, yes you do. And you love it. Just like you love how you’re dripping on me right now.”
“But you love it, too,” you said, trying to turn the tables. “You love how hot and wet I am for you.”
“Goddammit, yes I do. C’mere, kitten.”
The air suddenly felt cooler when he removed his hand from your panties. But the warmth was returned quickly as you watched him lay down on the bed and stroke himself.
“Harry,” you pouted. “I’m supposed to do that.”
“Well then hurry up, baby. We may have all night, but I get impatient too.”
You gave him a smirk, knowing he was mocking your impatience from last weekend.
“Just for that, I may just take my time,” you teased, slowly sliding your panties down your hips.
“Please don’t.”
“What would you do if I did?”
“Make myself come,” he replied cheekily, his hand still on his cock.
“Aw, c’mon Harry, play nice.”
He chuckled low, sending another thrill down your spine. Kicking your panties off of your ankle, you let them hit the floor as you crawled cat-like over his naked body.
“Kitten, you are,” he grinned, reaching for your hips. “Looks like I picked the right pet name.”
“Yes,” you agreed. “And now kitty wants a ride.”
Harry growled as you nibbled on his neck. “Condom’s in my jacket, babe,” he whispered. “Forgot to grab it.”
With a tiny pout, you slid off the bed and retrieved his jacket from the chair, and found the condom in the inside picket. Opening it swiftly, you returned to the bed where you eagerly slipped it on his awaiting cock. Lifting your hips, you eased yourself down slowly with a high-pitched groan.
“Gently, kitten,” instructed Harry. “You sure you’re wet enough?”
“Yes,” you sighed. “You just fill me so well.”
“Yeah,” he grinned. “Go slowly though, alright. Don’t wanna hurt you.”
“I can handle it, baby. Question is, can you handle me?”
Harry’s chest shook as he laughed, and you slowly began to ride him. When you began to pick up a little speed, however, Harry started to blink, his head tilting back into the pillow.
“Fuck, kitten, you feel so good.”
“I do? You like how my cunt feels dripping on you?”
“Mmm yeah. So fucking warm and wet.”
“You deserve to feel this good, baby. Every night,” you moaned.
“Yeah? You would fuck me like this every night?” he asked, his hips bucking up against you.
“Mmhmm. Anything you want. You’re such a fucking hot and sexy man. You deserve to be fucked any way you want.”
“Ah yes, fuck me, kitten.”
“She didn’t fuck you like this, did she?” you purred as you rode him faster.
Harry shook his head and gulped. “No.”
“You deserve so much better, baby. You deserve a woman who knows your needs. Who worships your cock.”
Though Harry moaned and let out an expletive, he grabbed your waist and tried to hold you still. “Wait…baby…wait, stop,” he gasped.
“What’s wrong?” you blinked.
“I don’t wanna fuck like this.”
“Like what?”
“Revenge sex, angry sex, whatever this is. I’m done with that, aren’t you?”
You stared at him, confused. “But, I thought-”
“I know, babe,” he interrupted with a nod. “But I don’t want this to be about her. Or him. Just us.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t you?”
“I…yeah, I guess so.”
Harry’s green eyes stared at you, and though they were still filled with lust, a softer look in them also appeared that you hadn’t seen before. “Just you and me, yeah? I think it could be great.”
“Okay,” you nodded.
“Good girl,” he grinned. “Now fuck me.”
You slowly resumed your thrusts, your eyes still locked with his. While you tried to continue the little game you’d been playing, the point seemed moot. Something came over you that you couldn’t describe, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were feeling emotional, overwhelmed. But you couldn’t, could you? This was just a hookup, a mutual agreement. There were no feelings involved. Finally, you stopped all movement.
“What’s wrong, babe?” asked Harry, a bewildered look on his face. “You tired?”
“No. It just…it feels different now.”
“Different…good?”
You shook your head, unable to find the words. “I don’t know. I just…I feel vulnerable.”
Harry’s face softened as he sat up and ran his hands up your back. “I know, baby. But it’s okay. I’m here, yeah? I’ll make you feel good.”
“But I wanted to make you feel good,” you said.
“Then we’ll make each other feel good,” Harry smirked. “C’mon love, it’s alright. We don’t need revenge sex. Those two other people…they mean nothing. We don’t have to use each other anymore. Let’s just…live in the moment.”
Taking in a deep breath, you let it out slowly. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? His arms around you, Harry kissed your lips softly. Then he continued down your jaw and to your neck. Inch by inch, you let the tension fall until his soft, pillowy lips lightly touched your shoulder.
“Mmm, that feels nice,” you breathed before you realized it.
“Doesn’t it?” Harry murmured before looking into your eyes. “I want you, Y/N. I wouldn’t have invited you here if I didn’t. I wouldn’t have gotten this room. For us. You and me, honey. You’re the one I wanna be with.”
Though he didn’t finish the sentence with tonight, you took it as implied.
“Let’s make each other feel good, yeah?” he continued, pecking your mouth again. “I wanna make you come so hard.”
A low moan sounded from deep within your throat before you started to giggle.
“Does that sound good?” Harry wiggled his brows.
“Yeah,” you nodded. “Sounds amazing.”
“Then get that ass up, baby, and turn around for me,” he demanded, patting your behind.
Once on your knees facing away from him, you braced yourself for a quick thrust. But Harry seemed to have other ideas. Instead, he grabbed your hips and pulled you back so that you sat on his lap. Pushing your hair off your shoulder, he kissed your neck just underneath your ear. Then his other hand found your right breast, cupping it and pinching the nipple between his fingertips.
“That feel good, kitten?” he whispered, his breath tickling your flesh.
“Mmm, yes.”
“Good. Now lift up just a bit and bounce on me.”
Doing as you were told had Harry slipping inside you easily just before you bounced back onto his lap, his cock filling you completely.
“Ohhhh,” you gasped. “Fuck.”
“Mmm yeah, babe, do that again.”
With a deep breath, you exhaled as you lifted up to your knees again. This time, however, Harry met you halfway, thrusting up against you as you came down. When you let out another gasp, Harry groaned in your ear.
“Fuck, princess, just like that. Keep going.”
Though your knees were already starting to shake, it was nothing like the nearly exploding feeling in your core. You could feel him fully, all of him in your pussy. And you couldn’t get enough.
You repeated the movements over and over, each time making your toes curl more and more. Finally, you noticed the thrusts weren’t quite as long, as Harry was practically holding you against him, his arm around your waist as he panted in your ear, giving you continuous words of encouragement.
“Oh, kitten you feel so good,” he whined, sliding his free hand down your belly. “I’m so close already. But I want you to come first, alright?”
“Yes.”
“Are you close, too?”
“Yes!”
His fingertips slipped through your folds and pinched your clit. Your knees buckled and you almost fell forward until Harry pulled you up. You could feel his wet, sticky chest against your back as he guided you to your climax.
“Easy, kitten,” he cooed. “I got you. Come for me, sweetheart. I wanna feel that sweet little cunt dripping all over me.”
“Aaaaaa…” you exclaimed, though it was far from an actual word. “Oh, God! Ohhh Haaarrryy….baaaabyyyyy!!!!”
“That’s it, kitten,” he urged, his finger still circling your swollen nub as he continued his thrusts. “Such a good girl. I love making you feel good, baby.”
With a few more whines and pants, you came down from your high, taking deep breaths and hard swallows.
“Mmm,” Harry growled, then kissed your neck. “It’s not over yet, love.”
You chuckled, placing your hand on his thigh. “I know. Shall I stay here, or you want me somewhere else?”
“I’ll let you pick,” he replied.
“Really?” Lifting yourself up, you turned around to face him. “Cause I’d really like to watch you when you come.”
“You got it, babe,” he grinned. Taking your face in his hands, he kissed you with fervor. Then he rolled you onto your back.
“Are you sore, love?” he asked as he resumed his thrusts.
“Not really,” you gulped. “Only in a good way.”
Harry chuckled, “Alright, good. Cause I want you legs up here.” Grabbing hold of your thighs, he lifted them over his shoulders. “That’s it, kitten. Now, keep your pretty eyes on me.”
You had no problem with that request. His arms around you with your knees next to your ears, you couldn’t do much more than stare at him. And he was a sight to behold. A curl had fallen from his forehead, and he already looked fucked out of his mind. Your entire body was on fire, inside and out. You couldn’t look away if you tried.
Because of his close proximity, his thrusts were short and quick, his cock hitting you in just the right spot every time. You tried your best to keep breathing, though you could already feel yourself teetering close to the edge. And Harry’s grunts didn’t help. He was so sexy, and it turned you on knowing you felt good around him.
“So fucking wet baby, god damn,” he panted. “Can I fuck you like this every night?”
You blinked in surprise until you remembered your words from earlier. With a gentle smile, you nodded. “Yes.”
“Promise? Cause I don’t think I can go another week, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” you swore to him, and as you wrapped your arms around his neck, you knew that it wasn’t a lie.
Harry’s breaths quickened, and with a deep groan, he shut his eyes tight. Then with two more thrusts, his body trembled and he gasped in your ear.
“Fuck. Oh, kitten, you’re amazing.”
Your fingers played in his hair as he laid on your chest. You listened to his breaths for a moment until he looked up at you.
“Please don’t leave,” he said.
“What?”
“Tonight. Don’t leave like last time, please. Stay with me.”
After a pause, you allowed your fingertips to draw shapes across his back. Then with a sigh you said his name.
“Hmm?” he sounded, rolling onto his side next to you.
You turned and looked at him, giving him a smile. “I have no intention of leaving.”
With a grin of his own, Harry pulled you close and kissed you, no other words needed.
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Hope you enjoyed! Please like, reblog and comment (or even better send me a message) if you did.
tagging: @kathb59, @kahluamystery97, @triski73, @lovebittenbyevans, @chibijusstuff, @angywritesstuff, @indierockgirrl, @i-dont-want-your-sympathy (you are all ones who commented on part 1 so I hope that's okay.)
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lemoncrushh · 2 days
Text
Wild Horses - One
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Summary: Amber Crosby didn’t end up with the life she’d expected, but that didn’t keep her from following her dream. A young, up and coming country recording artist, she and her band set out to do just that. Trying to leave her past behind, it wasn’t until meeting Harry Styles that she realized just how her life could take a turn and alter her future forever.
A/N: Please note all portions in italics are meant to be flashbacks :).
STORY PAGE
Chapter One Word Count: 4.3k+
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“Are you sick and tired of being sick and tired…” - Daughtry; Witness
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“Are you sure this is what you wanna do?” Pauline asked, lifting her coffee mug to her lips.
Amber let out a breath and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, Mom, it is.”
Pauline swallowed as she looked out the window to the backyard. The swing set was old and rusted, the sandbox her children had once played in now overgrown with weeds. Her daughter was nearing twenty. It was time to let her go and earn her wings.
“Then I think you should go for it,” she said with a sweet smile.
Relief spread over Amber as she rose from her chair to give her mother a hug.
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll make you proud, I promise.”
“You already do, sweetheart,” whispered Pauline as she patted Amber’s hand, a tear trickling out of the corner of her eye. “Now you go follow your dream. Laci and I will be just fine.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely. She’s a wild one, keeps me on my toes. Just like you.”
Amber caught the loving admiration underneath Pauline’s joking tone.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too. Now stop making me teary-eyed and go pack.”
Amber grinned as she bound for her bedroom. She was gonna be okay. She could feel it.
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The restaurant was freezing. Actually, to say it was a restaurant was like calling that motel they’d stayed in the night before the Ritz. It was a dang Waffle House, but at least it was cheap. Amber had managed to save up some money on this short road tour, but she wasn’t about to splurge on a real restaurant, even if that sign she’d seen for that Mexican place had looked appealing. Still, it was so freaking cold in this joint, her nipples could’ve broken glass.
“And what can I get you, hon?” asked the blond middle-aged waitress.
Amber faked a smile as she rubbed her arms. “Eggs over easy with grits and bacon please.”
The waitress nodded and penciled in her order before addressing Carter who sat beside her. He ordered his usual - three waffles. Nothing else. Of course he would smother them later with butter and maple syrup. Amber watched him sip on his Coke when the waitress walked away and wondered how on earth he was able to carry all the band equipment day after day when he was loaded up on so much sugar. She never once saw him come down from his high and fall flat on his ass, but she waited for the day she would.
“How many more miles til Nashville?” groaned Brendan, running his palm down his face, his eyes weary.
“About eighty or so,” replied Johnny, smoothing out the road map in front of him. “Not much longer.”
“Good, cause I need a real bed. Alone.”
Amber smiled meekly at her bass player. Brendan had taken the wheel early that morning after they’d left Charlotte. The boys were getting a bit restless and annoyed with having to share a motel room, one of them usually opting for the floor or the van so they wouldn’t have to share a bed. Occasionally if Amber got a double room, Carter would convince her to let him take the other bed. Sometimes in the beginning he’d even slip himself into her single bed, and she wouldn’t kick him out if she was drunk enough. But those days were over, she’d told him.
Nashville would be a different situation. The band was scheduled to play a festival, billed as one of the opening acts. It would be excellent exposure for them, and in return they got free accomodations at the Hilton. It was a sacrifice Amber was willing to make to get the recognition. She’d just decided not to tell the boys until after the show that they weren’t getting paid.
The waitress brought their food and other than the sounds of chewing and swallowing, the occasional burp, the four sat in silence. Amber continued to rub her arms when she could, the coffee doing little to warm her up. She’d wished she’d brought her hoodie, but since it was damn near a hundred degrees outside, she hadn’t even bothered to pull it out of her duffle bag. Suddenly, she felt another set of hands on her skin, and she looked up to see Carter, a small grin on his face as he rubbed her naked arms.
“Cold?” he raised a brow.
“Yeah,” she sighed, allowing his long arms to envelop her as she scooted closer to him.
Her stomach did one of those flip-floppy things that she didn’t like. Okay, maybe she liked it, but she didn’t want to. She’d been firm with Carter that they were not a couple, and he wasn’t supposed to act like they were. He’d reluctantly agreed, what with being in a band together and all. But sometimes he could be really sweet. Sometimes he…
“Can I get you anything else, hon?” the waitress asked.
“I don’t think so,” replied Carter, giving her his best smile as he squeezed Amber tighter with one hand and patted his stomach with the other. “That was great.”
The blond winked at him and set the check beside him before twisting her hips and strutting to the next table. Johnny and Brendan began to pull out their wallets until Amber stopped them.
“I got this one, guys,” she explained, giving Carter a nudge so he’d slide out of the booth.
Brendan shrugged, returning his wallet to his back pocket. Johnny dropped a few ones on the table and folded up the road map. As Amber paid the bill at the counter, Carter slid a hand across her butt and whispered in her ear.
“Meet you in the van.”
Amber nodded. “Be there in a minute. I gotta use the bathroom.”
“Ooh, honey, he’s a cutie,” Amber heard the waitress say when the boys were out of ear-shot. She scoffed.
“He your boyfriend?” the blond continued.
“No,” Amber shook her head as she took her change. “Just my drummer.”
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“Yes!” exclaimed Brendan when he opened his hotel room door. “At last! My own room!”
Amber chuckled in the hallway, her duffle bag over her shoulder as she made her way to her room. The door clicked shut behind Brendan, but she could still hear him shouting something about ‘getting used to this’. Johnny’s room was across from Brendan’s, Amber’s next to it.
“I’m so ready for a nap,” she remarked, her card key in the door.
“Now? I thought...maybe we could hang out for a while. In mine.” Carter pointed across the hall.
“I’m exhausted, Carter.”
“I know, but…” he paused, his lips quivering into a suggestive grin, “can’t you be exhausted in here? With me?”
“Ugh...Carter…” Amber groaned. Here we go again, she thought.
“I give great back rubs.”
“I know you do,” she nodded with disinterest. “But I’m not feeling that great. I don’t think that Waffle House agreed with me.”
Amber heard the click of the lock and pushed her door open.
“Amber…”
“Carter,” she rolled her eyes, dropping her bag on the floor next to the bathroom. “I’m going to sleep. See you at dinner.”
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Pauline held up the phone so Amber could see Laci dance around the living room in her tutu. Amber beamed and giggled as Laci did the same, twirling like a ballerina.
“Yay!” Amber clapped when Laci was finished. “Good job!”
Laci continued to giggle, her brown curls bouncing as she fell over on the couch, her head in Pauline’s lap.
“She’s been practicing,” Amber’s mom announced.
“I can tell! How’s school?”
“It’s going great. Her teacher says she’s always excited to come and never wants to leave.”
“Aw, I’m glad,” said Amber.
A knock sounded on her door so she rose from the bed to answer it. Carter stood on the other side, his hands in his pockets. Amber lifted a finger and pointed to her cell phone to indicate she was talking on it. Carter nodded and followed her into the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Hey, Mom, I gotta go. We’re about to go to dinner.”
“Alright, sweetheart,” Pauline nodded. “Have fun in Nashville!”
“I will. Bye Laci!” she waved into the phone. The little girl’s head popped into the screen she blew kisses.
“Love youuuuu!”
“I love you too, baby girl.”
Hanging up the call, Amber shoved her phone into her back pocket and looked up at Carter. He’d apparently had a shower, his caramel hair combed back, his clean t-shirt stretching across his broad shoulders.
“Ready?” she breathed, hoping he hadn’t noticed how it caught in her throat.
“Yeah, Johnny and Brendan are downstairs.”
“Okay.” Amber stepped into her sandals and walked around him to the door.
“Um...Amber?”
“Yeah?” she stopped.
Carter scratched his stubbled chin before shoving his hand back in his pocket.
“Sorry about...before,” he offered.
Amber chewed her cheek and shrugged. “You didn’t do anything.”
“I know but…” he hesitated, then looked down at his feet. “Hey, I know how you feel about us-”
Amber held up a hand. “There is no us, Carter. We’re friends. Bandmates. That’s all.”
His jaw set so hard he could cut through steel, Carter nodded. “Got it.”
Amber sighed. “Carter…”
Stepping closer to her, he put his hands on her waist.
“We got something, Amber. You might not see it yet, but I do. All those times you cried on my shoulder til four in the morning. Those nights in your bed-”
“It’s over, Carter,” she pushed his hands away.
“But I don’t want it to be.”
Amber swallowed hard as she looked down. “It needs to be,” she whispered.
“But why?”
“Because...that was the old me.”
Amber felt Carter sigh more than heard it. She watched his feet as he stepped around her to open the door.
“You’ll want me again, Amber. Maybe not tonight. But one day you will.”
Amber glared at him as he held the door. Maybe he was right.
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Harry didn’t usually stay with his band. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, and it wasn’t an ego thing. It was more of a safety thing. If fans got wind of where Mitch, Sarah, Adam or Clare were, nine times out of ten they figured Harry was somewhere near. They would bombard the hotel just to get a glimpse of him, and sometimes things could get out of hand. And Harry didn’t want his band to feel like they couldn’t get out and see the city if they wanted to. So early on Jeffrey Azoff, his friend and manager, had talked him into staying at a different hotel from theirs. And so far it had worked.
Today, however, Harry decided to join his band in the hotel restaurant - the Hilton where the rest of the band members were staying. He reckoned no one would suspect he would be there, so he could slip in and take a seat with the gang and enjoy a private meal. But he’d thought wrong.
He wasn’t sure if it was the girl who nearly fainted in the lobby, or if there had been paps or someone else outside who’d recognized him, but by the time he made it around the corner near the elevators, just outside the restaurant, he was surrounded. Cursing under his breath, he put on a brave face and greeted the mob of fans.
Fans. That was actually too kind of a word. He knew who his true fans were. They were the ones who bought his album and tickets to his shows. They were outside waiting in a queue for hours so they’d get a good spot in the general admission section. They had websites and blogs and wrote fanfiction and made their own merch. They weren’t waiting outside of hotel restaurants hoping to get a selfie with someone they may or may not actually had heard of, let alone sang along to in the car. But being the Harry Styles that he was, he knew it wasn’t fair to pick and choose. Treat people with kindness, that was his motto. He lived by the golden rule, even when all he wanted to do was get a bloody meal with his friends.
When the last girl had left, a squeak in her voice as she snapped one last photo, Harry strolled into the restaurant, waving at his bandmates who sat in the corner of the nearly empty room. Immediately a waiter came by, setting a glass of water in front of him.
“Evening,” nodded the waiter in a monotone.
“We already ordered for you,” said Clare.
“Oh. Thanks,” Harry grinned, setting his napkin in his lap.
“Guess, this isn’t happening again,” remarked Mitch.
“What isn’t?”
“This,” Mitch gestured. “Dinner at our hotel. You were mobbed.”
Harry shrugged with a sigh. “Yeah. It wasn’t too bad. Coulda been worse.”
Sarah and Mitch glared at him before lifting their glasses simultaneously. The waiter came with their food then, and the mood was lightened with idle chatter. Halfway through his salad, however, Harry could feel eyes upon him. He had a gift, he did. He could always tell when he was being watched. Usually it involved a camera, but when he lifted his gaze to browse the room, he only found a pair of pretty blue eyes. They belonged to a young woman sat at the table across the room, one of only two others occupied in the restaurant presently. She was joined by three other lads, who all seemed to be doing their best to pay attention to themselves and each other, and certainly not to her.
He had no idea how or why. She was cute. She had pouty red lips and a heart-shaped face. And there was no way he could ignore the way she tried to look away when he caught her looking at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Yeah, he would definitely be paying attention to her.
Actually, come to think of it, she looked right familiar to him. Biting his lip, he tried to place her.
A burst of laughter broke his thoughts and he turned his head to see Adam showing the other three a video of his kid on his phone.
“How adorable!” exclaimed Clare.
As Adam scrolled to find another funny video, Harry leaned toward Mitch.
“Hey mate, who’s that?” he pointed to the girl across the room. “Do you know her?”
Mitch shrugged just as Sarah said, “That’s Amber Crosby.”
“Who?” Mitch and Harry asked in unison.
“Amber Crosby? She’s part of the festival tomorrow?” Sarah rolled her eyes. “That’s her and her band.”
“Ohh,” sounded Harry. Amber Crosby, that’s right. He’d heard her single a few times. She was good.
“How do you know this?” inquired Mitch.
“Because I make it a point to keep up with what’s going on,” remarked Sarah, pursing her lips. Mitch mocked her with a face which earned him a pinch.
Harry watched Amber sit with her band, though she might as well had been sat there alone. She reached for her glass of water, taking a sip through a straw before her eyes wandered up and locked with Harry’s again. He caught the slight blush in her cheeks as she quickly averted her gaze and set her glass back down.
“Hey, Harry, are y-” he heard Mitch begin, but he didn’t stay to listen to the rest of the sentence. Instead, he rose from his chair and crossed the room to where Amber sat.
“Hello,” he greeted when he reached her table. “Amber Crosby, right?”
Once again, he didn’t miss the rosiness of her cheeks as she lifted her head.
“Yes,” she smiled up at him.
“I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Harry Styles.”
Amber beamed wider, taking Harry’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”
“I saw that you’re playing tomorrow,” he half lied.
“Yeah,” Amber made a face. Harry wasn’t sure if it was one of embarrassment or annoyance. But either way, he liked how her nose crinkled when she did it. “I think we’re like second or third. So we’ll be out of here by sundown.”
Harry feigned shock, placing his hand on his chest. “And miss my set?”
Amber giggled. “Well, I don’t want to, but you know…”
“Hey, man,” uttered the straight-nosed guy sat next to Amber. If he hadn’t extended his hand, Harry might have thought he was about to threaten him.
“Oh, sorry!” Amber sat up, addressing the three men at the table. “Harry, this is Carter, Brendan and Johnny. My band. Guys, this is Ha-”
“Harry Styles, man, nice to meet ya!” Carter nearly slapped his hand against Harry’s, making Amber grimace. But Harry was gracious, shaking each man’s hand and making them feel important.
“I’ve heard your song,” said Harry, “it’s really good.”
It was Amber’s turn to cover her heart. “Oh, thank you.”
“Yeah, I’m anxious to hear more.”
His eyes met Amber’s then, making her smile. He didn’t miss Carter’s arm, however, that suddenly stretched across the back of her chair.
“Will you be there tomorrow?” asked Amber. “I mean, as early as we’ll be playing?”
“Yeah, I should be. I’ll be popping in off and on throughout the day.”
“What time are you on?” piped up one of the other lads. Damn, Harry had forgotten their names. Brandon? Brennan?
“We’re on at eight,” replied Harry.
“Oh. We might be gone by then,” Carter declared, his fingers playing on Amber’s shoulder. “We have another gig to get to the next day.”
“Oh, too bad,” Harry frowned, not missing the maneuver Amber pulled to get her shoulder out of Carter’s reach. “Well, just wanted to say hello, and um...best of luck tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Amber and her band sang.
Harry gave a small wave as he turned back for his table, rejoining his own band.
“What d’you think?” Sarah raised a brow.
“She seems lovely.”
Just then Amber and her band rose from their table, heading for the exit.
“I think I’ll try to introduce myself tomorrow,” said Sarah. “I definitely wanna catch their set.”
But Harry was barely listening. He watched Amber follow the men out of the restaurant, turning around once to wave at him. He smiled and waved back.
He definitely wanted to catch their set too.
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Carter thought he heard something. It was a cheap motel, and the walls were very thin. But did he detect the sound of someone crying? Amber’s room was next door. Could it be…
He waited a few more minutes, just to be sure. Then swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he sat up and walked to the door, hesitating only for a split second before stepping outside.
He knocked gently at first, then thought that was ridiculous and knocked louder. She didn’t answer right away, though that didn’t surprise him. Again, he knocked, this time calling her name.
“Amber! Amber, are you in there?” He knew his question was pointless; of course she was in there. And she was hurting.
He heard the click of the lock before the door opened, just enough to reveal half of her tear-stained face.
“Are you okay?” Another stupid question. Of course she wasn’t okay.
She shook her head, her hair falling over her eyes. Carter let out a deep breath.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Amber looked down and shook her head again. “Not really.”
Carter nodded. He wasn’t going to push her.
“Can I...come in?”
Swallowing hard, Amber stepped back, her head still bowed. When Carter shut the door behind him, she finally looked up at him.
“Oh!”
It was only then that it dawned on Carter that he was shirtless. He’d been lying on his bed after returning to his room, still in his jeans, his sweaty t-shirt and shoes discarded across the room in a pile. His mind on getting to Amber, he hadn’t bothered to put on a clean shirt.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
With a sharp turn, Amber ran to the bed, planting herself on it face down.
“Hey,” Carter whispered as he sat down next to her. He watched her back tremble and shake as she cried into her pillow. “Amber…”
When she didn’t reply, he looked around the tiny room. On the nightstand sat a half-empty bottle of whisky. It wasn’t open, but he picked up the empty glass next to it and sniffed it. He made a face as he wondered if she’d already drunk that much tonight.
“Amber,” he said again.
Just as he reached for her, she sat up and wrapped her arms around him. He’d let her cry as much as she wanted; he was willing to wait all night if he needed to. Finally, she lifted her head, wiped her eyes and sniffled.
“I hate my life,” she admitted.
“What?”
“I’m so tired, Carter,” she cried. “So very tired. Of everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sick of trying so hard...when it doesn’t get me anywhere.”
Pushing a strand of her brown hair from her wet, sticky cheek, Carter assumed she meant the band, her music. But then she dropped the bomb.
“I just want someone to love me,” she whined, her big brown eyes searching his face. “Why is that so hard?”
“Amber…”
“Am I unlovable?” she asked.
“What? No!” Carter knew that wasn’t true. Okay, maybe he wasn’t in love with her. But he’d definitely had feelings since they’d met. He knew she’d had a hard life and kept her guard up, but he’d never gotten the whole story. He’d always hoped one day she’d tell him.
“Sometimes…” she hesitated, “sometimes I just wanna end it.”
“End what?” Damn, he was full of dumb questions tonight. He knew the answer. He just hoped he was wrong.
“My life.”
He took her face in his hands then. He wanted to yell at her, shake her into reality. 
“You don’t know what you’re saying, Amber,” he said firmly.
“Don’t I?” she rolled her eyes. “No one gives a shit about me.”
“I do. I care.”
“You do?” Though her eyelids were heavy, she fluttered her lashes.
Carter could smell the liquor on her breath before he kissed her. He didn’t care. He wanted her to know she was wanted.
She hadn’t asked him to stay that night, but he had anyway. He wanted to make sure she was okay. And when she’d gotten up to puke, he’d held back her hair.
Carter sort of made a habit of staying in Amber’s room after that. About a month or so later, after they shared an entire bottle of whisky, she told him her story.
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“Ten minutes,” the stage assistant announced, sending nervous tingles down Amber’s spine.
“Okay, okay,” she breathed, shaking her limbs and fingers. “Let’s do this.”
Just then she heard a voice behind her, one that she recognized from the night before. She turned to see Harry Styles chatting with Brendan along with his bandmates Sarah and Mitch whom she’d met an hour ago. When their eyes met, he smiled widely and stepped toward her.
“Hi, Amber,” he greeted. “Promised I’d make it to see you, and here I am.”
Amber returned his smile, her insides giggling with glee. He hadn’t actually promised that, not in so many words, but she thought it was a nice gesture.
“Good to see you, Harry,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t crack before she even made it to the stage.
“You’ve met Sarah and Mitch,” he confirmed in part question.
“Yes, I did. They’re so nice.”
“I have a great band,” Harry nodded.
“You definitely do. They all seem very fond of you. As they should.”
“Five minutes!”
“I’m on next,” Amber voiced with wide eyes.
“Best of luck to you,” Harry grinned. “You’ll be great.”
“Hope so,” she breathed. She looked around to see her band members coming toward her. For some reason she got more nervous when she made eye contact with Carter.
“Hey, man,” he said as he approached Harry, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Glad you could make it.”
“Yeah, good luck, mate,” Harry reached out his hand to tap Carter’s arm.
“Places people!” the stage hand called.
Amber shrieked, trying to let her body release the last of its nerves. She caught the tiny giggle coming from Harry and gave him a shrug.
“Always nervous,” she muttered.
She hadn’t expected Harry to take her hand then. And she hadn’t expected to feel the electricity that charged through her skin from his touch. And she hadn’t expected the look in his eyes to take all her nerves away and make her feel calm.
“Let’s go!” Carter shouted, his hand on her back as he pushed her onto the stage.
Harry watched Amber Crosby’s short set from backstage. She was good. Better than good, she was fantastic. He loved the tone of her voice, both warm and clear. She had a youthful quality about her while also being very sensual, like some of the classic country females whom he enjoyed. Though he was familiar with the radio hit, he liked her other songs just as much, if not more. He wondered if she wrote them all, and he made it a point to ask her when he got the chance. If he got the chance. He was disappointed that she and her band would be leaving after their set. There was something about her… he didn’t know what exactly, but he wanted to find out.
The crowd cheered after their last song, making Harry smile. He hardly knew this girl, but he was already feeling a sense of pride for her. His own hands clapping eagerly, he watched as the band took a bow together and turned to exit the stage. He felt the presence of two bodies stepping to either side of him, joining him in his applause.
“So what do you think?” asked Sarah.
“I think I just found my new opening act,” Harry replied.
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As always feedback is appreciated (even if it is an old fic lol).
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lemoncrushh · 2 days
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1,3,5!
chipotle order?
I would usually get the burrito bowl with white rice, carnitas, roasted veggies, the corn salsa and queso. Then I'd get chips and guac on the side. But I'm trying to stay under 1330 calories rn so i'd probably skip the queso and guac lol.
3. a specific color that gives you the ick?
i can't think of one tbh. i like all colors.
5. favorite form of potato?
i love sweet potatoes! also just red potatoes with butter and cheese.
thank you hon xo
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lemoncrushh · 2 days
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biggest rule of tumblr is to make a blog you enjoy and only post what you want otherwise you're getting into the territory of loser behavior.. nothing matters but you and your blog and maybe the fun you have with some mewchies along the way
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lemoncrushh · 2 days
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weirdly specific and unrelated asks to know someone well:
chipotle order?
thoughts on veganism?
a specific color that gives you the ick?
mythical creature you think/believe is real?
favorite form of potato?
do you use a watch?
what animal do you look forward to seeing when you visit an aquarium?
do you change into specific clothes for the house when you get home?
do you have a skincare routine (and how many steps is it)?
on a plane, do you ask for apple or orange juice?
anything from your childhood you’ve held on to?
brand of haircare/bodycare/skincare that you trust 100%?
first thing you’re doing in the purge?
do you think you’re dehydrated?
rank the methods of death: freezing, burning, drowning
thoughts on mint chocolate chip?
an anxious compulsion you do everyday?
your boba/tea order?
the veggie you dislike the most?
favorite disney princess movie?
a number that weirds you out?
do you have an emotional support water bottle?
do you wear jewelry?
which do you find yourself using, american or british english?
would you say you have good taste in music?
how’s your spice tolerance?
what’s your favorite or go-to outfit?
last meal on earth?
preferred pasta noodle?
ask me anything !
leave an ask for the person you reblog it from!
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lemoncrushh · 2 days
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url music tag
aww thanks for taking me @lovebittenbyevans :) I like mostly old music but I'll try to include some newer stuff lol. Hope you don't mind a created a new post - the other one was getting long lol (that's what she said *cough cough*)
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L - Love is Embarrassing by Olivia Rodrigo
E - Exile by Taylor Swift
M - Maybe I'm Amazed by Paul McCartney
O - One and Only by Adele
N - Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter
C - Cold Gin by KISS
R - Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac
U - Under Pressure by Queen
S - Satellite by Harry Styles
H - Hallucinate by Dua Lipa
H - Heaven by Warrant
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tagging (no obligation): @daydreaming-laur, @cupid-styles, @fkinavocado, @justpatches, @harrystylesgotmefuckedup, @swiftmendeshoran, @starry-eyed-never-satisfied
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lemoncrushh · 2 days
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Wild Horses - One
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Summary: Amber Crosby didn’t end up with the life she’d expected, but that didn’t keep her from following her dream. A young, up and coming country recording artist, she and her band set out to do just that. Trying to leave her past behind, it wasn’t until meeting Harry Styles that she realized just how her life could take a turn and alter her future forever.
A/N: Please note all portions in italics are meant to be flashbacks :).
STORY PAGE
Chapter One Word Count: 4.3k+
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“Are you sick and tired of being sick and tired…” - Daughtry; Witness
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“Are you sure this is what you wanna do?” Pauline asked, lifting her coffee mug to her lips.
Amber let out a breath and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, Mom, it is.”
Pauline swallowed as she looked out the window to the backyard. The swing set was old and rusted, the sandbox her children had once played in now overgrown with weeds. Her daughter was nearing twenty. It was time to let her go and earn her wings.
“Then I think you should go for it,” she said with a sweet smile.
Relief spread over Amber as she rose from her chair to give her mother a hug.
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll make you proud, I promise.”
“You already do, sweetheart,” whispered Pauline as she patted Amber’s hand, a tear trickling out of the corner of her eye. “Now you go follow your dream. Laci and I will be just fine.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely. She’s a wild one, keeps me on my toes. Just like you.”
Amber caught the loving admiration underneath Pauline’s joking tone.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too. Now stop making me teary-eyed and go pack.”
Amber grinned as she bound for her bedroom. She was gonna be okay. She could feel it.
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The restaurant was freezing. Actually, to say it was a restaurant was like calling that motel they’d stayed in the night before the Ritz. It was a dang Waffle House, but at least it was cheap. Amber had managed to save up some money on this short road tour, but she wasn’t about to splurge on a real restaurant, even if that sign she’d seen for that Mexican place had looked appealing. Still, it was so freaking cold in this joint, her nipples could’ve broken glass.
“And what can I get you, hon?” asked the blond middle-aged waitress.
Amber faked a smile as she rubbed her arms. “Eggs over easy with grits and bacon please.”
The waitress nodded and penciled in her order before addressing Carter who sat beside her. He ordered his usual - three waffles. Nothing else. Of course he would smother them later with butter and maple syrup. Amber watched him sip on his Coke when the waitress walked away and wondered how on earth he was able to carry all the band equipment day after day when he was loaded up on so much sugar. She never once saw him come down from his high and fall flat on his ass, but she waited for the day she would.
“How many more miles til Nashville?” groaned Brendan, running his palm down his face, his eyes weary.
“About eighty or so,” replied Johnny, smoothing out the road map in front of him. “Not much longer.”
“Good, cause I need a real bed. Alone.”
Amber smiled meekly at her bass player. Brendan had taken the wheel early that morning after they’d left Charlotte. The boys were getting a bit restless and annoyed with having to share a motel room, one of them usually opting for the floor or the van so they wouldn’t have to share a bed. Occasionally if Amber got a double room, Carter would convince her to let him take the other bed. Sometimes in the beginning he’d even slip himself into her single bed, and she wouldn’t kick him out if she was drunk enough. But those days were over, she’d told him.
Nashville would be a different situation. The band was scheduled to play a festival, billed as one of the opening acts. It would be excellent exposure for them, and in return they got free accomodations at the Hilton. It was a sacrifice Amber was willing to make to get the recognition. She’d just decided not to tell the boys until after the show that they weren’t getting paid.
The waitress brought their food and other than the sounds of chewing and swallowing, the occasional burp, the four sat in silence. Amber continued to rub her arms when she could, the coffee doing little to warm her up. She’d wished she’d brought her hoodie, but since it was damn near a hundred degrees outside, she hadn’t even bothered to pull it out of her duffle bag. Suddenly, she felt another set of hands on her skin, and she looked up to see Carter, a small grin on his face as he rubbed her naked arms.
“Cold?” he raised a brow.
“Yeah,” she sighed, allowing his long arms to envelop her as she scooted closer to him.
Her stomach did one of those flip-floppy things that she didn’t like. Okay, maybe she liked it, but she didn’t want to. She’d been firm with Carter that they were not a couple, and he wasn’t supposed to act like they were. He’d reluctantly agreed, what with being in a band together and all. But sometimes he could be really sweet. Sometimes he…
“Can I get you anything else, hon?” the waitress asked.
“I don’t think so,” replied Carter, giving her his best smile as he squeezed Amber tighter with one hand and patted his stomach with the other. “That was great.”
The blond winked at him and set the check beside him before twisting her hips and strutting to the next table. Johnny and Brendan began to pull out their wallets until Amber stopped them.
“I got this one, guys,” she explained, giving Carter a nudge so he’d slide out of the booth.
Brendan shrugged, returning his wallet to his back pocket. Johnny dropped a few ones on the table and folded up the road map. As Amber paid the bill at the counter, Carter slid a hand across her butt and whispered in her ear.
“Meet you in the van.”
Amber nodded. “Be there in a minute. I gotta use the bathroom.”
“Ooh, honey, he’s a cutie,” Amber heard the waitress say when the boys were out of ear-shot. She scoffed.
“He your boyfriend?” the blond continued.
“No,” Amber shook her head as she took her change. “Just my drummer.”
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“Yes!” exclaimed Brendan when he opened his hotel room door. “At last! My own room!”
Amber chuckled in the hallway, her duffle bag over her shoulder as she made her way to her room. The door clicked shut behind Brendan, but she could still hear him shouting something about ‘getting used to this’. Johnny’s room was across from Brendan’s, Amber’s next to it.
“I’m so ready for a nap,” she remarked, her card key in the door.
“Now? I thought...maybe we could hang out for a while. In mine.” Carter pointed across the hall.
“I’m exhausted, Carter.”
“I know, but…” he paused, his lips quivering into a suggestive grin, “can’t you be exhausted in here? With me?”
“Ugh...Carter…” Amber groaned. Here we go again, she thought.
“I give great back rubs.”
“I know you do,” she nodded with disinterest. “But I’m not feeling that great. I don’t think that Waffle House agreed with me.”
Amber heard the click of the lock and pushed her door open.
“Amber…”
“Carter,” she rolled her eyes, dropping her bag on the floor next to the bathroom. “I’m going to sleep. See you at dinner.”
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Pauline held up the phone so Amber could see Laci dance around the living room in her tutu. Amber beamed and giggled as Laci did the same, twirling like a ballerina.
“Yay!” Amber clapped when Laci was finished. “Good job!”
Laci continued to giggle, her brown curls bouncing as she fell over on the couch, her head in Pauline’s lap.
“She’s been practicing,” Amber’s mom announced.
“I can tell! How’s school?”
“It’s going great. Her teacher says she’s always excited to come and never wants to leave.”
“Aw, I’m glad,” said Amber.
A knock sounded on her door so she rose from the bed to answer it. Carter stood on the other side, his hands in his pockets. Amber lifted a finger and pointed to her cell phone to indicate she was talking on it. Carter nodded and followed her into the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Hey, Mom, I gotta go. We’re about to go to dinner.”
“Alright, sweetheart,” Pauline nodded. “Have fun in Nashville!”
“I will. Bye Laci!” she waved into the phone. The little girl’s head popped into the screen she blew kisses.
“Love youuuuu!”
“I love you too, baby girl.”
Hanging up the call, Amber shoved her phone into her back pocket and looked up at Carter. He’d apparently had a shower, his caramel hair combed back, his clean t-shirt stretching across his broad shoulders.
“Ready?” she breathed, hoping he hadn’t noticed how it caught in her throat.
“Yeah, Johnny and Brendan are downstairs.”
“Okay.” Amber stepped into her sandals and walked around him to the door.
“Um...Amber?”
“Yeah?” she stopped.
Carter scratched his stubbled chin before shoving his hand back in his pocket.
“Sorry about...before,” he offered.
Amber chewed her cheek and shrugged. “You didn’t do anything.”
“I know but…” he hesitated, then looked down at his feet. “Hey, I know how you feel about us-”
Amber held up a hand. “There is no us, Carter. We’re friends. Bandmates. That’s all.”
His jaw set so hard he could cut through steel, Carter nodded. “Got it.”
Amber sighed. “Carter…”
Stepping closer to her, he put his hands on her waist.
“We got something, Amber. You might not see it yet, but I do. All those times you cried on my shoulder til four in the morning. Those nights in your bed-”
“It’s over, Carter,” she pushed his hands away.
“But I don’t want it to be.”
Amber swallowed hard as she looked down. “It needs to be,” she whispered.
“But why?”
“Because...that was the old me.”
Amber felt Carter sigh more than heard it. She watched his feet as he stepped around her to open the door.
“You’ll want me again, Amber. Maybe not tonight. But one day you will.”
Amber glared at him as he held the door. Maybe he was right.
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Harry didn’t usually stay with his band. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, and it wasn’t an ego thing. It was more of a safety thing. If fans got wind of where Mitch, Sarah, Adam or Clare were, nine times out of ten they figured Harry was somewhere near. They would bombard the hotel just to get a glimpse of him, and sometimes things could get out of hand. And Harry didn’t want his band to feel like they couldn’t get out and see the city if they wanted to. So early on Jeffrey Azoff, his friend and manager, had talked him into staying at a different hotel from theirs. And so far it had worked.
Today, however, Harry decided to join his band in the hotel restaurant - the Hilton where the rest of the band members were staying. He reckoned no one would suspect he would be there, so he could slip in and take a seat with the gang and enjoy a private meal. But he’d thought wrong.
He wasn’t sure if it was the girl who nearly fainted in the lobby, or if there had been paps or someone else outside who’d recognized him, but by the time he made it around the corner near the elevators, just outside the restaurant, he was surrounded. Cursing under his breath, he put on a brave face and greeted the mob of fans.
Fans. That was actually too kind of a word. He knew who his true fans were. They were the ones who bought his album and tickets to his shows. They were outside waiting in a queue for hours so they’d get a good spot in the general admission section. They had websites and blogs and wrote fanfiction and made their own merch. They weren’t waiting outside of hotel restaurants hoping to get a selfie with someone they may or may not actually had heard of, let alone sang along to in the car. But being the Harry Styles that he was, he knew it wasn’t fair to pick and choose. Treat people with kindness, that was his motto. He lived by the golden rule, even when all he wanted to do was get a bloody meal with his friends.
When the last girl had left, a squeak in her voice as she snapped one last photo, Harry strolled into the restaurant, waving at his bandmates who sat in the corner of the nearly empty room. Immediately a waiter came by, setting a glass of water in front of him.
“Evening,” nodded the waiter in a monotone.
“We already ordered for you,” said Clare.
“Oh. Thanks,” Harry grinned, setting his napkin in his lap.
“Guess, this isn’t happening again,” remarked Mitch.
“What isn’t?”
“This,” Mitch gestured. “Dinner at our hotel. You were mobbed.”
Harry shrugged with a sigh. “Yeah. It wasn’t too bad. Coulda been worse.”
Sarah and Mitch glared at him before lifting their glasses simultaneously. The waiter came with their food then, and the mood was lightened with idle chatter. Halfway through his salad, however, Harry could feel eyes upon him. He had a gift, he did. He could always tell when he was being watched. Usually it involved a camera, but when he lifted his gaze to browse the room, he only found a pair of pretty blue eyes. They belonged to a young woman sat at the table across the room, one of only two others occupied in the restaurant presently. She was joined by three other lads, who all seemed to be doing their best to pay attention to themselves and each other, and certainly not to her.
He had no idea how or why. She was cute. She had pouty red lips and a heart-shaped face. And there was no way he could ignore the way she tried to look away when he caught her looking at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Yeah, he would definitely be paying attention to her.
Actually, come to think of it, she looked right familiar to him. Biting his lip, he tried to place her.
A burst of laughter broke his thoughts and he turned his head to see Adam showing the other three a video of his kid on his phone.
“How adorable!” exclaimed Clare.
As Adam scrolled to find another funny video, Harry leaned toward Mitch.
“Hey mate, who’s that?” he pointed to the girl across the room. “Do you know her?”
Mitch shrugged just as Sarah said, “That’s Amber Crosby.”
“Who?” Mitch and Harry asked in unison.
“Amber Crosby? She’s part of the festival tomorrow?” Sarah rolled her eyes. “That’s her and her band.”
“Ohh,” sounded Harry. Amber Crosby, that’s right. He’d heard her single a few times. She was good.
“How do you know this?” inquired Mitch.
“Because I make it a point to keep up with what’s going on,” remarked Sarah, pursing her lips. Mitch mocked her with a face which earned him a pinch.
Harry watched Amber sit with her band, though she might as well had been sat there alone. She reached for her glass of water, taking a sip through a straw before her eyes wandered up and locked with Harry’s again. He caught the slight blush in her cheeks as she quickly averted her gaze and set her glass back down.
“Hey, Harry, are y-” he heard Mitch begin, but he didn’t stay to listen to the rest of the sentence. Instead, he rose from his chair and crossed the room to where Amber sat.
“Hello,” he greeted when he reached her table. “Amber Crosby, right?”
Once again, he didn’t miss the rosiness of her cheeks as she lifted her head.
“Yes,” she smiled up at him.
“I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Harry Styles.”
Amber beamed wider, taking Harry’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”
“I saw that you’re playing tomorrow,” he half lied.
“Yeah,” Amber made a face. Harry wasn’t sure if it was one of embarrassment or annoyance. But either way, he liked how her nose crinkled when she did it. “I think we’re like second or third. So we’ll be out of here by sundown.”
Harry feigned shock, placing his hand on his chest. “And miss my set?”
Amber giggled. “Well, I don’t want to, but you know…”
“Hey, man,” uttered the straight-nosed guy sat next to Amber. If he hadn’t extended his hand, Harry might have thought he was about to threaten him.
“Oh, sorry!” Amber sat up, addressing the three men at the table. “Harry, this is Carter, Brendan and Johnny. My band. Guys, this is Ha-”
“Harry Styles, man, nice to meet ya!” Carter nearly slapped his hand against Harry’s, making Amber grimace. But Harry was gracious, shaking each man’s hand and making them feel important.
“I’ve heard your song,” said Harry, “it’s really good.”
It was Amber’s turn to cover her heart. “Oh, thank you.”
“Yeah, I’m anxious to hear more.”
His eyes met Amber’s then, making her smile. He didn’t miss Carter’s arm, however, that suddenly stretched across the back of her chair.
“Will you be there tomorrow?” asked Amber. “I mean, as early as we’ll be playing?”
“Yeah, I should be. I’ll be popping in off and on throughout the day.”
“What time are you on?” piped up one of the other lads. Damn, Harry had forgotten their names. Brandon? Brennan?
“We’re on at eight,” replied Harry.
“Oh. We might be gone by then,” Carter declared, his fingers playing on Amber’s shoulder. “We have another gig to get to the next day.”
“Oh, too bad,” Harry frowned, not missing the maneuver Amber pulled to get her shoulder out of Carter’s reach. “Well, just wanted to say hello, and um...best of luck tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Amber and her band sang.
Harry gave a small wave as he turned back for his table, rejoining his own band.
“What d’you think?” Sarah raised a brow.
“She seems lovely.”
Just then Amber and her band rose from their table, heading for the exit.
“I think I’ll try to introduce myself tomorrow,” said Sarah. “I definitely wanna catch their set.”
But Harry was barely listening. He watched Amber follow the men out of the restaurant, turning around once to wave at him. He smiled and waved back.
He definitely wanted to catch their set too.
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Carter thought he heard something. It was a cheap motel, and the walls were very thin. But did he detect the sound of someone crying? Amber’s room was next door. Could it be…
He waited a few more minutes, just to be sure. Then swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he sat up and walked to the door, hesitating only for a split second before stepping outside.
He knocked gently at first, then thought that was ridiculous and knocked louder. She didn’t answer right away, though that didn’t surprise him. Again, he knocked, this time calling her name.
“Amber! Amber, are you in there?” He knew his question was pointless; of course she was in there. And she was hurting.
He heard the click of the lock before the door opened, just enough to reveal half of her tear-stained face.
“Are you okay?” Another stupid question. Of course she wasn’t okay.
She shook her head, her hair falling over her eyes. Carter let out a deep breath.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Amber looked down and shook her head again. “Not really.”
Carter nodded. He wasn’t going to push her.
“Can I...come in?”
Swallowing hard, Amber stepped back, her head still bowed. When Carter shut the door behind him, she finally looked up at him.
“Oh!”
It was only then that it dawned on Carter that he was shirtless. He’d been lying on his bed after returning to his room, still in his jeans, his sweaty t-shirt and shoes discarded across the room in a pile. His mind on getting to Amber, he hadn’t bothered to put on a clean shirt.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
With a sharp turn, Amber ran to the bed, planting herself on it face down.
“Hey,” Carter whispered as he sat down next to her. He watched her back tremble and shake as she cried into her pillow. “Amber…”
When she didn’t reply, he looked around the tiny room. On the nightstand sat a half-empty bottle of whisky. It wasn’t open, but he picked up the empty glass next to it and sniffed it. He made a face as he wondered if she’d already drunk that much tonight.
“Amber,” he said again.
Just as he reached for her, she sat up and wrapped her arms around him. He’d let her cry as much as she wanted; he was willing to wait all night if he needed to. Finally, she lifted her head, wiped her eyes and sniffled.
“I hate my life,” she admitted.
“What?”
“I’m so tired, Carter,” she cried. “So very tired. Of everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sick of trying so hard...when it doesn’t get me anywhere.”
Pushing a strand of her brown hair from her wet, sticky cheek, Carter assumed she meant the band, her music. But then she dropped the bomb.
“I just want someone to love me,” she whined, her big brown eyes searching his face. “Why is that so hard?”
“Amber…”
“Am I unlovable?” she asked.
“What? No!” Carter knew that wasn’t true. Okay, maybe he wasn’t in love with her. But he’d definitely had feelings since they’d met. He knew she’d had a hard life and kept her guard up, but he’d never gotten the whole story. He’d always hoped one day she’d tell him.
“Sometimes…” she hesitated, “sometimes I just wanna end it.”
“End what?” Damn, he was full of dumb questions tonight. He knew the answer. He just hoped he was wrong.
“My life.”
He took her face in his hands then. He wanted to yell at her, shake her into reality. 
“You don’t know what you’re saying, Amber,” he said firmly.
“Don’t I?” she rolled her eyes. “No one gives a shit about me.”
“I do. I care.”
“You do?” Though her eyelids were heavy, she fluttered her lashes.
Carter could smell the liquor on her breath before he kissed her. He didn’t care. He wanted her to know she was wanted.
She hadn’t asked him to stay that night, but he had anyway. He wanted to make sure she was okay. And when she’d gotten up to puke, he’d held back her hair.
Carter sort of made a habit of staying in Amber’s room after that. About a month or so later, after they shared an entire bottle of whisky, she told him her story.
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“Ten minutes,” the stage assistant announced, sending nervous tingles down Amber’s spine.
“Okay, okay,” she breathed, shaking her limbs and fingers. “Let’s do this.”
Just then she heard a voice behind her, one that she recognized from the night before. She turned to see Harry Styles chatting with Brendan along with his bandmates Sarah and Mitch whom she’d met an hour ago. When their eyes met, he smiled widely and stepped toward her.
“Hi, Amber,” he greeted. “Promised I’d make it to see you, and here I am.”
Amber returned his smile, her insides giggling with glee. He hadn’t actually promised that, not in so many words, but she thought it was a nice gesture.
“Good to see you, Harry,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t crack before she even made it to the stage.
“You’ve met Sarah and Mitch,” he confirmed in part question.
“Yes, I did. They’re so nice.”
“I have a great band,” Harry nodded.
“You definitely do. They all seem very fond of you. As they should.”
“Five minutes!”
“I’m on next,” Amber voiced with wide eyes.
“Best of luck to you,” Harry grinned. “You’ll be great.”
“Hope so,” she breathed. She looked around to see her band members coming toward her. For some reason she got more nervous when she made eye contact with Carter.
“Hey, man,” he said as he approached Harry, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Glad you could make it.”
“Yeah, good luck, mate,” Harry reached out his hand to tap Carter’s arm.
“Places people!” the stage hand called.
Amber shrieked, trying to let her body release the last of its nerves. She caught the tiny giggle coming from Harry and gave him a shrug.
“Always nervous,” she muttered.
She hadn’t expected Harry to take her hand then. And she hadn’t expected to feel the electricity that charged through her skin from his touch. And she hadn’t expected the look in his eyes to take all her nerves away and make her feel calm.
“Let’s go!” Carter shouted, his hand on her back as he pushed her onto the stage.
Harry watched Amber Crosby’s short set from backstage. She was good. Better than good, she was fantastic. He loved the tone of her voice, both warm and clear. She had a youthful quality about her while also being very sensual, like some of the classic country females whom he enjoyed. Though he was familiar with the radio hit, he liked her other songs just as much, if not more. He wondered if she wrote them all, and he made it a point to ask her when he got the chance. If he got the chance. He was disappointed that she and her band would be leaving after their set. There was something about her… he didn’t know what exactly, but he wanted to find out.
The crowd cheered after their last song, making Harry smile. He hardly knew this girl, but he was already feeling a sense of pride for her. His own hands clapping eagerly, he watched as the band took a bow together and turned to exit the stage. He felt the presence of two bodies stepping to either side of him, joining him in his applause.
“So what do you think?” asked Sarah.
“I think I just found my new opening act,” Harry replied.
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As always feedback is appreciated (even if it is an old fic lol).
13 notes · View notes
lemoncrushh · 3 days
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Wild Horses - Story Page
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Summary: Amber Crosby didn't end up with the life she'd expected, but that didn't keep her from following her dream. A young, up and coming country recording artist, she and her band set out to do just that. Trying to leave her past behind, it wasn't until meeting Harry Styles that she realized just how her life could take a turn and alter her future forever.
Warnings: Sexual content, teen pregnancy, physical abuse and violence, heavy drinking, talks of suicide. YOU MUST BE OVER 18 TO READ.
A/N: This fic was started way back in 2019 (I think lol). I'd had high hopes for it back then, but as usual I abandoned it. This time I plan to finish it. I think it's a great story that needs to be told. I hope you enjoy :).
REPOSTS WILL BE WEEKLY, FRIDAYS AT 6:00PM CST.
Links will be updated as I post.
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ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
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17 notes · View notes
lemoncrushh · 3 days
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Wild Horses - One
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Summary: Amber Crosby didn’t end up with the life she’d expected, but that didn’t keep her from following her dream. A young, up and coming country recording artist, she and her band set out to do just that. Trying to leave her past behind, it wasn’t until meeting Harry Styles that she realized just how her life could take a turn and alter her future forever.
A/N: Please note all portions in italics are meant to be flashbacks :).
STORY PAGE
Chapter One Word Count: 4.3k+
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“Are you sick and tired of being sick and tired…” - Daughtry; Witness
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“Are you sure this is what you wanna do?” Pauline asked, lifting her coffee mug to her lips.
Amber let out a breath and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, Mom, it is.”
Pauline swallowed as she looked out the window to the backyard. The swing set was old and rusted, the sandbox her children had once played in now overgrown with weeds. Her daughter was nearing twenty. It was time to let her go and earn her wings.
“Then I think you should go for it,” she said with a sweet smile.
Relief spread over Amber as she rose from her chair to give her mother a hug.
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll make you proud, I promise.”
“You already do, sweetheart,” whispered Pauline as she patted Amber’s hand, a tear trickling out of the corner of her eye. “Now you go follow your dream. Laci and I will be just fine.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely. She’s a wild one, keeps me on my toes. Just like you.”
Amber caught the loving admiration underneath Pauline’s joking tone.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too. Now stop making me teary-eyed and go pack.”
Amber grinned as she bound for her bedroom. She was gonna be okay. She could feel it.
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The restaurant was freezing. Actually, to say it was a restaurant was like calling that motel they’d stayed in the night before the Ritz. It was a dang Waffle House, but at least it was cheap. Amber had managed to save up some money on this short road tour, but she wasn’t about to splurge on a real restaurant, even if that sign she’d seen for that Mexican place had looked appealing. Still, it was so freaking cold in this joint, her nipples could’ve broken glass.
“And what can I get you, hon?” asked the blond middle-aged waitress.
Amber faked a smile as she rubbed her arms. “Eggs over easy with grits and bacon please.”
The waitress nodded and penciled in her order before addressing Carter who sat beside her. He ordered his usual - three waffles. Nothing else. Of course he would smother them later with butter and maple syrup. Amber watched him sip on his Coke when the waitress walked away and wondered how on earth he was able to carry all the band equipment day after day when he was loaded up on so much sugar. She never once saw him come down from his high and fall flat on his ass, but she waited for the day she would.
“How many more miles til Nashville?” groaned Brendan, running his palm down his face, his eyes weary.
“About eighty or so,” replied Johnny, smoothing out the road map in front of him. “Not much longer.”
“Good, cause I need a real bed. Alone.”
Amber smiled meekly at her bass player. Brendan had taken the wheel early that morning after they’d left Charlotte. The boys were getting a bit restless and annoyed with having to share a motel room, one of them usually opting for the floor or the van so they wouldn’t have to share a bed. Occasionally if Amber got a double room, Carter would convince her to let him take the other bed. Sometimes in the beginning he’d even slip himself into her single bed, and she wouldn’t kick him out if she was drunk enough. But those days were over, she’d told him.
Nashville would be a different situation. The band was scheduled to play a festival, billed as one of the opening acts. It would be excellent exposure for them, and in return they got free accomodations at the Hilton. It was a sacrifice Amber was willing to make to get the recognition. She’d just decided not to tell the boys until after the show that they weren’t getting paid.
The waitress brought their food and other than the sounds of chewing and swallowing, the occasional burp, the four sat in silence. Amber continued to rub her arms when she could, the coffee doing little to warm her up. She’d wished she’d brought her hoodie, but since it was damn near a hundred degrees outside, she hadn’t even bothered to pull it out of her duffle bag. Suddenly, she felt another set of hands on her skin, and she looked up to see Carter, a small grin on his face as he rubbed her naked arms.
“Cold?” he raised a brow.
“Yeah,” she sighed, allowing his long arms to envelop her as she scooted closer to him.
Her stomach did one of those flip-floppy things that she didn’t like. Okay, maybe she liked it, but she didn’t want to. She’d been firm with Carter that they were not a couple, and he wasn’t supposed to act like they were. He’d reluctantly agreed, what with being in a band together and all. But sometimes he could be really sweet. Sometimes he…
“Can I get you anything else, hon?” the waitress asked.
“I don’t think so,” replied Carter, giving her his best smile as he squeezed Amber tighter with one hand and patted his stomach with the other. “That was great.”
The blond winked at him and set the check beside him before twisting her hips and strutting to the next table. Johnny and Brendan began to pull out their wallets until Amber stopped them.
“I got this one, guys,” she explained, giving Carter a nudge so he’d slide out of the booth.
Brendan shrugged, returning his wallet to his back pocket. Johnny dropped a few ones on the table and folded up the road map. As Amber paid the bill at the counter, Carter slid a hand across her butt and whispered in her ear.
“Meet you in the van.”
Amber nodded. “Be there in a minute. I gotta use the bathroom.”
“Ooh, honey, he’s a cutie,” Amber heard the waitress say when the boys were out of ear-shot. She scoffed.
“He your boyfriend?” the blond continued.
“No,” Amber shook her head as she took her change. “Just my drummer.”
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“Yes!” exclaimed Brendan when he opened his hotel room door. “At last! My own room!”
Amber chuckled in the hallway, her duffle bag over her shoulder as she made her way to her room. The door clicked shut behind Brendan, but she could still hear him shouting something about ‘getting used to this’. Johnny’s room was across from Brendan’s, Amber’s next to it.
“I’m so ready for a nap,” she remarked, her card key in the door.
“Now? I thought...maybe we could hang out for a while. In mine.” Carter pointed across the hall.
“I’m exhausted, Carter.”
“I know, but…” he paused, his lips quivering into a suggestive grin, “can’t you be exhausted in here? With me?”
“Ugh...Carter…” Amber groaned. Here we go again, she thought.
“I give great back rubs.”
“I know you do,” she nodded with disinterest. “But I’m not feeling that great. I don’t think that Waffle House agreed with me.”
Amber heard the click of the lock and pushed her door open.
“Amber…”
“Carter,” she rolled her eyes, dropping her bag on the floor next to the bathroom. “I’m going to sleep. See you at dinner.”
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Pauline held up the phone so Amber could see Laci dance around the living room in her tutu. Amber beamed and giggled as Laci did the same, twirling like a ballerina.
“Yay!” Amber clapped when Laci was finished. “Good job!”
Laci continued to giggle, her brown curls bouncing as she fell over on the couch, her head in Pauline’s lap.
“She’s been practicing,” Amber’s mom announced.
“I can tell! How’s school?”
“It’s going great. Her teacher says she’s always excited to come and never wants to leave.”
“Aw, I’m glad,” said Amber.
A knock sounded on her door so she rose from the bed to answer it. Carter stood on the other side, his hands in his pockets. Amber lifted a finger and pointed to her cell phone to indicate she was talking on it. Carter nodded and followed her into the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Hey, Mom, I gotta go. We’re about to go to dinner.”
“Alright, sweetheart,” Pauline nodded. “Have fun in Nashville!”
“I will. Bye Laci!” she waved into the phone. The little girl’s head popped into the screen she blew kisses.
“Love youuuuu!”
“I love you too, baby girl.”
Hanging up the call, Amber shoved her phone into her back pocket and looked up at Carter. He’d apparently had a shower, his caramel hair combed back, his clean t-shirt stretching across his broad shoulders.
“Ready?” she breathed, hoping he hadn’t noticed how it caught in her throat.
“Yeah, Johnny and Brendan are downstairs.”
“Okay.” Amber stepped into her sandals and walked around him to the door.
“Um...Amber?”
“Yeah?” she stopped.
Carter scratched his stubbled chin before shoving his hand back in his pocket.
“Sorry about...before,” he offered.
Amber chewed her cheek and shrugged. “You didn’t do anything.”
“I know but…” he hesitated, then looked down at his feet. “Hey, I know how you feel about us-”
Amber held up a hand. “There is no us, Carter. We’re friends. Bandmates. That’s all.”
His jaw set so hard he could cut through steel, Carter nodded. “Got it.”
Amber sighed. “Carter…”
Stepping closer to her, he put his hands on her waist.
“We got something, Amber. You might not see it yet, but I do. All those times you cried on my shoulder til four in the morning. Those nights in your bed-”
“It’s over, Carter,” she pushed his hands away.
“But I don’t want it to be.”
Amber swallowed hard as she looked down. “It needs to be,” she whispered.
“But why?”
“Because...that was the old me.”
Amber felt Carter sigh more than heard it. She watched his feet as he stepped around her to open the door.
“You’ll want me again, Amber. Maybe not tonight. But one day you will.”
Amber glared at him as he held the door. Maybe he was right.
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Harry didn’t usually stay with his band. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, and it wasn’t an ego thing. It was more of a safety thing. If fans got wind of where Mitch, Sarah, Adam or Clare were, nine times out of ten they figured Harry was somewhere near. They would bombard the hotel just to get a glimpse of him, and sometimes things could get out of hand. And Harry didn’t want his band to feel like they couldn’t get out and see the city if they wanted to. So early on Jeffrey Azoff, his friend and manager, had talked him into staying at a different hotel from theirs. And so far it had worked.
Today, however, Harry decided to join his band in the hotel restaurant - the Hilton where the rest of the band members were staying. He reckoned no one would suspect he would be there, so he could slip in and take a seat with the gang and enjoy a private meal. But he’d thought wrong.
He wasn’t sure if it was the girl who nearly fainted in the lobby, or if there had been paps or someone else outside who’d recognized him, but by the time he made it around the corner near the elevators, just outside the restaurant, he was surrounded. Cursing under his breath, he put on a brave face and greeted the mob of fans.
Fans. That was actually too kind of a word. He knew who his true fans were. They were the ones who bought his album and tickets to his shows. They were outside waiting in a queue for hours so they’d get a good spot in the general admission section. They had websites and blogs and wrote fanfiction and made their own merch. They weren’t waiting outside of hotel restaurants hoping to get a selfie with someone they may or may not actually had heard of, let alone sang along to in the car. But being the Harry Styles that he was, he knew it wasn’t fair to pick and choose. Treat people with kindness, that was his motto. He lived by the golden rule, even when all he wanted to do was get a bloody meal with his friends.
When the last girl had left, a squeak in her voice as she snapped one last photo, Harry strolled into the restaurant, waving at his bandmates who sat in the corner of the nearly empty room. Immediately a waiter came by, setting a glass of water in front of him.
“Evening,” nodded the waiter in a monotone.
“We already ordered for you,” said Clare.
“Oh. Thanks,” Harry grinned, setting his napkin in his lap.
“Guess, this isn’t happening again,” remarked Mitch.
“What isn’t?”
“This,” Mitch gestured. “Dinner at our hotel. You were mobbed.”
Harry shrugged with a sigh. “Yeah. It wasn’t too bad. Coulda been worse.”
Sarah and Mitch glared at him before lifting their glasses simultaneously. The waiter came with their food then, and the mood was lightened with idle chatter. Halfway through his salad, however, Harry could feel eyes upon him. He had a gift, he did. He could always tell when he was being watched. Usually it involved a camera, but when he lifted his gaze to browse the room, he only found a pair of pretty blue eyes. They belonged to a young woman sat at the table across the room, one of only two others occupied in the restaurant presently. She was joined by three other lads, who all seemed to be doing their best to pay attention to themselves and each other, and certainly not to her.
He had no idea how or why. She was cute. She had pouty red lips and a heart-shaped face. And there was no way he could ignore the way she tried to look away when he caught her looking at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Yeah, he would definitely be paying attention to her.
Actually, come to think of it, she looked right familiar to him. Biting his lip, he tried to place her.
A burst of laughter broke his thoughts and he turned his head to see Adam showing the other three a video of his kid on his phone.
“How adorable!” exclaimed Clare.
As Adam scrolled to find another funny video, Harry leaned toward Mitch.
“Hey mate, who’s that?” he pointed to the girl across the room. “Do you know her?”
Mitch shrugged just as Sarah said, “That’s Amber Crosby.”
“Who?” Mitch and Harry asked in unison.
“Amber Crosby? She’s part of the festival tomorrow?” Sarah rolled her eyes. “That’s her and her band.”
“Ohh,” sounded Harry. Amber Crosby, that’s right. He’d heard her single a few times. She was good.
“How do you know this?” inquired Mitch.
“Because I make it a point to keep up with what’s going on,” remarked Sarah, pursing her lips. Mitch mocked her with a face which earned him a pinch.
Harry watched Amber sit with her band, though she might as well had been sat there alone. She reached for her glass of water, taking a sip through a straw before her eyes wandered up and locked with Harry’s again. He caught the slight blush in her cheeks as she quickly averted her gaze and set her glass back down.
“Hey, Harry, are y-” he heard Mitch begin, but he didn’t stay to listen to the rest of the sentence. Instead, he rose from his chair and crossed the room to where Amber sat.
“Hello,” he greeted when he reached her table. “Amber Crosby, right?”
Once again, he didn’t miss the rosiness of her cheeks as she lifted her head.
“Yes,” she smiled up at him.
“I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Harry Styles.”
Amber beamed wider, taking Harry’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”
“I saw that you’re playing tomorrow,” he half lied.
“Yeah,” Amber made a face. Harry wasn’t sure if it was one of embarrassment or annoyance. But either way, he liked how her nose crinkled when she did it. “I think we’re like second or third. So we’ll be out of here by sundown.”
Harry feigned shock, placing his hand on his chest. “And miss my set?”
Amber giggled. “Well, I don’t want to, but you know…”
“Hey, man,” uttered the straight-nosed guy sat next to Amber. If he hadn’t extended his hand, Harry might have thought he was about to threaten him.
“Oh, sorry!” Amber sat up, addressing the three men at the table. “Harry, this is Carter, Brendan and Johnny. My band. Guys, this is Ha-”
“Harry Styles, man, nice to meet ya!” Carter nearly slapped his hand against Harry’s, making Amber grimace. But Harry was gracious, shaking each man’s hand and making them feel important.
“I’ve heard your song,” said Harry, “it’s really good.”
It was Amber’s turn to cover her heart. “Oh, thank you.”
“Yeah, I’m anxious to hear more.”
His eyes met Amber’s then, making her smile. He didn’t miss Carter’s arm, however, that suddenly stretched across the back of her chair.
“Will you be there tomorrow?” asked Amber. “I mean, as early as we’ll be playing?”
“Yeah, I should be. I’ll be popping in off and on throughout the day.”
“What time are you on?” piped up one of the other lads. Damn, Harry had forgotten their names. Brandon? Brennan?
“We’re on at eight,” replied Harry.
“Oh. We might be gone by then,” Carter declared, his fingers playing on Amber’s shoulder. “We have another gig to get to the next day.”
“Oh, too bad,” Harry frowned, not missing the maneuver Amber pulled to get her shoulder out of Carter’s reach. “Well, just wanted to say hello, and um...best of luck tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Amber and her band sang.
Harry gave a small wave as he turned back for his table, rejoining his own band.
“What d’you think?” Sarah raised a brow.
“She seems lovely.”
Just then Amber and her band rose from their table, heading for the exit.
“I think I’ll try to introduce myself tomorrow,” said Sarah. “I definitely wanna catch their set.”
But Harry was barely listening. He watched Amber follow the men out of the restaurant, turning around once to wave at him. He smiled and waved back.
He definitely wanted to catch their set too.
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Carter thought he heard something. It was a cheap motel, and the walls were very thin. But did he detect the sound of someone crying? Amber’s room was next door. Could it be…
He waited a few more minutes, just to be sure. Then swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he sat up and walked to the door, hesitating only for a split second before stepping outside.
He knocked gently at first, then thought that was ridiculous and knocked louder. She didn’t answer right away, though that didn’t surprise him. Again, he knocked, this time calling her name.
“Amber! Amber, are you in there?” He knew his question was pointless; of course she was in there. And she was hurting.
He heard the click of the lock before the door opened, just enough to reveal half of her tear-stained face.
“Are you okay?” Another stupid question. Of course she wasn’t okay.
She shook her head, her hair falling over her eyes. Carter let out a deep breath.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Amber looked down and shook her head again. “Not really.”
Carter nodded. He wasn’t going to push her.
“Can I...come in?”
Swallowing hard, Amber stepped back, her head still bowed. When Carter shut the door behind him, she finally looked up at him.
“Oh!”
It was only then that it dawned on Carter that he was shirtless. He’d been lying on his bed after returning to his room, still in his jeans, his sweaty t-shirt and shoes discarded across the room in a pile. His mind on getting to Amber, he hadn’t bothered to put on a clean shirt.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
With a sharp turn, Amber ran to the bed, planting herself on it face down.
“Hey,” Carter whispered as he sat down next to her. He watched her back tremble and shake as she cried into her pillow. “Amber…”
When she didn’t reply, he looked around the tiny room. On the nightstand sat a half-empty bottle of whisky. It wasn’t open, but he picked up the empty glass next to it and sniffed it. He made a face as he wondered if she’d already drunk that much tonight.
“Amber,” he said again.
Just as he reached for her, she sat up and wrapped her arms around him. He’d let her cry as much as she wanted; he was willing to wait all night if he needed to. Finally, she lifted her head, wiped her eyes and sniffled.
“I hate my life,” she admitted.
“What?”
“I’m so tired, Carter,” she cried. “So very tired. Of everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sick of trying so hard...when it doesn’t get me anywhere.”
Pushing a strand of her brown hair from her wet, sticky cheek, Carter assumed she meant the band, her music. But then she dropped the bomb.
“I just want someone to love me,” she whined, her big brown eyes searching his face. “Why is that so hard?”
“Amber…”
“Am I unlovable?” she asked.
“What? No!” Carter knew that wasn’t true. Okay, maybe he wasn’t in love with her. But he’d definitely had feelings since they’d met. He knew she’d had a hard life and kept her guard up, but he’d never gotten the whole story. He’d always hoped one day she’d tell him.
“Sometimes…” she hesitated, “sometimes I just wanna end it.”
“End what?” Damn, he was full of dumb questions tonight. He knew the answer. He just hoped he was wrong.
“My life.”
He took her face in his hands then. He wanted to yell at her, shake her into reality. 
“You don’t know what you’re saying, Amber,” he said firmly.
“Don’t I?” she rolled her eyes. “No one gives a shit about me.”
“I do. I care.”
“You do?” Though her eyelids were heavy, she fluttered her lashes.
Carter could smell the liquor on her breath before he kissed her. He didn’t care. He wanted her to know she was wanted.
She hadn’t asked him to stay that night, but he had anyway. He wanted to make sure she was okay. And when she’d gotten up to puke, he’d held back her hair.
Carter sort of made a habit of staying in Amber’s room after that. About a month or so later, after they shared an entire bottle of whisky, she told him her story.
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“Ten minutes,” the stage assistant announced, sending nervous tingles down Amber’s spine.
“Okay, okay,” she breathed, shaking her limbs and fingers. “Let’s do this.”
Just then she heard a voice behind her, one that she recognized from the night before. She turned to see Harry Styles chatting with Brendan along with his bandmates Sarah and Mitch whom she’d met an hour ago. When their eyes met, he smiled widely and stepped toward her.
“Hi, Amber,” he greeted. “Promised I’d make it to see you, and here I am.”
Amber returned his smile, her insides giggling with glee. He hadn’t actually promised that, not in so many words, but she thought it was a nice gesture.
“Good to see you, Harry,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t crack before she even made it to the stage.
“You’ve met Sarah and Mitch,” he confirmed in part question.
“Yes, I did. They’re so nice.”
“I have a great band,” Harry nodded.
“You definitely do. They all seem very fond of you. As they should.”
“Five minutes!”
“I’m on next,” Amber voiced with wide eyes.
“Best of luck to you,” Harry grinned. “You’ll be great.”
“Hope so,” she breathed. She looked around to see her band members coming toward her. For some reason she got more nervous when she made eye contact with Carter.
“Hey, man,” he said as he approached Harry, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Glad you could make it.”
“Yeah, good luck, mate,” Harry reached out his hand to tap Carter’s arm.
“Places people!” the stage hand called.
Amber shrieked, trying to let her body release the last of its nerves. She caught the tiny giggle coming from Harry and gave him a shrug.
“Always nervous,” she muttered.
She hadn’t expected Harry to take her hand then. And she hadn’t expected to feel the electricity that charged through her skin from his touch. And she hadn’t expected the look in his eyes to take all her nerves away and make her feel calm.
“Let’s go!” Carter shouted, his hand on her back as he pushed her onto the stage.
Harry watched Amber Crosby’s short set from backstage. She was good. Better than good, she was fantastic. He loved the tone of her voice, both warm and clear. She had a youthful quality about her while also being very sensual, like some of the classic country females whom he enjoyed. Though he was familiar with the radio hit, he liked her other songs just as much, if not more. He wondered if she wrote them all, and he made it a point to ask her when he got the chance. If he got the chance. He was disappointed that she and her band would be leaving after their set. There was something about her… he didn’t know what exactly, but he wanted to find out.
The crowd cheered after their last song, making Harry smile. He hardly knew this girl, but he was already feeling a sense of pride for her. His own hands clapping eagerly, he watched as the band took a bow together and turned to exit the stage. He felt the presence of two bodies stepping to either side of him, joining him in his applause.
“So what do you think?” asked Sarah.
“I think I just found my new opening act,” Harry replied.
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As always feedback is appreciated (even if it is an old fic lol).
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lemoncrushh · 3 days
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Wild Horses - Story Page
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Summary: Amber Crosby didn't end up with the life she'd expected, but that didn't keep her from following her dream. A young, up and coming country recording artist, she and her band set out to do just that. Trying to leave her past behind, it wasn't until meeting Harry Styles that she realized just how her life could take a turn and alter her future forever.
Warnings: Sexual content, teen pregnancy, physical abuse and violence, heavy drinking, talks of suicide. YOU MUST BE OVER 18 TO READ.
A/N: This fic was started way back in 2019 (I think lol). I'd had high hopes for it back then, but as usual I abandoned it. This time I plan to finish it. I think it's a great story that needs to be told. I hope you enjoy :).
REPOSTS WILL BE WEEKLY, FRIDAYS AT 6:00PM CST.
Links will be updated as I post.
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ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
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lemoncrushh · 3 days
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5K notes · View notes
lemoncrushh · 3 days
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lemoncrushh · 3 days
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Man, why is he such an asshole?? I would have slapped him. How dare he?? I'm dying to know what his deal is!
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“Chapter One”
Word Count: 6.7k
(Chapter one to “Cherry Bomb” - please make sure to read the TW on the “Cherry Bomb” masterlist before proceeding.)
●・○・●・○・●
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Sitting in my makeup chair, I stare at myself in the vanity mirror. The bright bulbs surrounding it are causing me to squint a bit. My usual hair stylist wasn't able to make it out to LA for this show, and I wasn't upset about that. She had a family emergency, and for me, friends and family came before anything for those around me. The woman behind me, whose name I learned was Lisa, was just finishing up the curls she was putting into my hair. She was middle aged from what I could see, and she could style the hell out of some hair. I had just gotten my wolf cut shaped for this specific show since it was the last one of my current tour, and she couldn't stop complimenting me on how much it suited me.
After this, I will be taking a break to work on a new album here in LA. I've purchased a house and had a recording installed so that I'll be able to work there instead of traveling around. Although my parents didn't live here anymore, this was still the place I considered home. I left almost two years ago when I got signed to my record label, and it's been almost three years since I've actually been back.
As much as I had tried to deny it, there was a part of me that had avoided LA on the two other tours I've gone on before this one. I wasn't ready to face the people here who knew me, and most of all, I don't know how I would act if I were to see him.
I went through a few years of therapy to get over the emotional turmoil I went through after Harry and I's friendship ended. It was necessary. I avoided human contact with anyone but my parents for almost a whole year because of it, and I finally took the step at finding a therapist - forcing myself to make the appointments for a few months until I actually started to look forward to it.
It's been almost a year since the last appointment with my therapist, the both of us deciding that I no longer needed to be seen on a monthly basis as I had been. We agreed that I could reach out to her when needed, and she assured me that she would be available any day and any time.
"Alright, since I'm finished with your hair, I'm gonna go grab your girl to finish up your makeup, okay?" Lisa asks, and I give her a nod.
"Yes, thank you so much for doing this last minute. I really appreciate you."
"Of course, sweetheart."
She gives me a squeeze to my shoulder as she exits the room, and I sigh as I grab my pack of cigarettes off the vanity. I slip one between my lips, lighting it up as I stare at myself in the mirror once again. It looks like the only things I have left for my makeup is eyeshadow, lashes and lips, and I know those won't take too long since the base of everything is already set.
I take a drag of my cigarette, flicking the ash into the tray in front of me. Pulling my bottom lip through my teeth, I keep the stick between my fingers as I rub the tip of my thumb over one of my brows out of stress.
There were going to be people here tonight that I haven't seen in years. I knew that by keeping my real name instead of choosing a stage name that as soon as I decided to come home that it would bring attention. I wasn't famous on a large scale by any means, but I did have a decent following, and this current tour has opened a lot of new doors for me.
I had invited Mikey and Kailey considering I'd kept up with them pretty regularly over the years, but they both were busy tonight with their jobs. I've actually flown the both of them out to a few shows, and at first I was worried that the both of them would be offended that I got a whole new band to back me up instead of them, but they understood why I didn't. That would feel too much like having the band without him, and that was just something I couldn't ever bring myself to do.
I've only ever brought him up once, and it was to Kailey after the third show I flew her out to. She said she wanted to talk to me about it as well, but she didn't know how to bring it up. He was still in the area, that was for sure from things that Kailey had heard, but she had only ever seen him twice since everything happened.
The first time was at a gas station and he was grabbing a pack of cigarettes, however, he didn't see her. The second time was at a house party she was invited to, and Harry was just showing up as she was leaving. She told me that he was already pretty drunk from what she could tell, and they made eye contact, but he immediately looked away and kept making his way into the party. She told me that Mikey hasn't heard or seen him at all.
"Sorry, sorry, I was finishing my dinner."
I'm brought out of my thoughts as I see Christy, my makeup artist, come rounding in front of me. "Okay, so just a few things left, Marls," she says, eyes scanning over my face before giving herself a nod.
I take a few more quick drags of my cigarette before snuffing it out.
Christy begins to apply some primer to my lids before shuffling through some of the palettes she brought with her. "Since your outfit is a dark creme and black color scheme, I think I'm going to go with a darker lid, what do you think?"
"Yeah, yeah," I nod, clearing my throat before looking back at myself in the mirror. "That sounds good to me. I trust you, you always take care of me."
Christy stands back in front of me and sends me a smile as I close my eyes, allowing her to work her magic. My hands were slightly clutching to the arms of the makeup chair as I felt the bristles of the makeup brush on my lids.
It's quiet between the two of us for a while before Christy speaks up. "You're a little more nervous than I'm used to seeing," she comments. "Are you nervous about potentially seeing..."
Christy has been my makeup artist for the last two and half years, and within that time, I've opened up to her a lot about things in my personal life. Other than my manager, she's probably the person I confide in the most while on the road, and sometimes even off of it. I try my best not to bother either of them when we're taking a break from touring, and they're back at home with their families, but both of them have assured me time and time again that I'm not doing that when I reach out.
"A little bit, yeah," I confess, licking over my bottom lip. "But I also don't think that he'll come. He probably doesn't even remember at this point."
I can hear Christy sigh, and I feel the brush fall from my skin for a moment. My eyes flutter open to see her staring down at me - head tilted to the side.
"Now you and I both know that you don't actually believe that for a second."
Scowling slightly, I cross my arms and slouch in my chair. "No, I don't. You have to understand that it's easier for me to think that way though than to think he does remember me, and that he hasn't reached out at all."
"Trust me, I definitely get that," Christy says with a nod, and I close my eyes again to let her continue. "But I also don't think it's completely fair to yourself to just say he's forgotten you. I highly doubt that he has."
"Who knows at this point though? Literally no one I still speak to has actually talked to him. I have nothing to go on."
Christy remains silent as she finishes my eye makeup, and she continues to not speak as she applies my lashes. I'm sure she's stopped speaking on the subject to keep me from getting even more nervous than I already am.
As she starts to work on my red lips, I see the door open in the mirror.
"You have fifteen minutes before you're on, Marlowe," Lys, my manager, says as she pokes her head into my dressing room. "Do you need any help getting into your dress?"
I shake my head once Christy pulls the lip product she was using away for a moment to give me a chance to respond. "No, I've got it. Thank you though."
Lys nods, but instead of stepping out, she makes her way into the room, standing behind me as Christy finishes up on my lips. She places her hands on my shoulders, massaging them softly as we make eye contact through the mirror.
"You've got this. I know this is your first hometown show, and that it probably feels extremely stressful for you right now, but just remember what you always say before each and every show - you won't be able to see past at least the fourth row because of the lights, these people are here to see you because they already love your music, and you wouldn't be up on that stage to begin with if you weren't immensely talented."
Christy moves away for a moment, before she stands back in front of me with some setting spray. I close my eyes and feel the product misting my skin, and then I feel air fanning against it as Christy dries it by waving her hands in front of my face.
"All done, and looking as beautiful as ever," she says, reaching down to grab my hands.
With the both of them making contact with me, it does help me ground myself a little bit. I shut my eyes and take in a deep breath as I give Christy's hands a squeeze.
"Thank you guys so much, seriously," I tell them, blinking my eyes back open. I shift in my chair a bit so I can look at the both of them, Lys moving both of her hands to drape over one of my shoulders. "I don't know what I would do without the both of you."
"Crash and burn, probably is what I'd say, " Lys says with a shrug, looking over to Christy. "What do you think?"
"Oh absolutely," Christy agrees with a nod.
I roll my eyes before popping up out of my chair, walking over to my dressing room door. Gripping the doorknob on my hand, I gesture my other hand through the door frame.
"Now, if you lovely ladies would be so kind, I have to get changed," I tell them.
Lys sticks her tongue out at me playfully as Christy gathers her makeup supplies, and they both file out of the room. I strip off the robe I had been wearing, leaving me in just my bra and underwear underneath.
Making my way over to the hanger on the rack, I pull off the fishnets that were hanging through the middle of it and pull them onto my legs with a pair of black cheeky shorts over them - just in case my dress flies up for any reason on stage. I slip on my dress after that, thankful that the zipper was on the side so I could actually manage this myself.
It wasn't that I didn't want the help, but I just needed some silence before going out on that stage. Things never end well for me if it tends to get too loud, and I had a fear of that happening if I didn't give myself some alone time tonight.
After I sit down on the couch, I pull on the shoes that have multiple buckles that go up my legs - which stop right underneath my knees. I shove my hands into my half pleather gloves, clenching and unclenching my fingers to get a good feel of how much mobility I had in them. I stand up and walk over to the full length mirror in my room - giving myself a good once over.
I slip my eyes shut after a moment, rolling my head from side to side on my shoulders while shaking out my arms a bit.
Beginning to pace around my room, I start my vocal exercises - tapping my fingers slightly to the beat that I was pacing myself at. My eyes meet the clock on the wall, and I know that it's time.
I make my way over the door, and I open it before making my way towards the stage.
"Oh! I was just coming to get you," Lys says cheerfully as she begins to walk beside me, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together. "I'm so proud of you, Marlowe, you have no idea."
We make our way to the steps that lead to where I'm needed next, and she stops us. I look down at her, and I can see tears glazing over her eyes.
"I mean that," she says, speaking over the cheers that are flooding through from the crowd. "I know how much it took for you to get here to be able to play this show, and I hope you're just as proud of yourself as I am of you. You're remarkable, and now you get to show the city where you came from just how remarkable you are as well."
Pursing my lips to the side, I do my best not to cry as I quickly wrap my arms around Lys, pulling her in for a hug. "Fuck you for almost making me cry before I go out there," I joke with a laugh, and I hear her give one back to me as her hands run up and down my back.
We pull away after a moment, and she begins to wipe under her eyes.
"Go, go! I'll be right off to the side if you need me, but I know you won't. You're going to be so wonderful."
Smiling, I give her a nod before making my way to the steps, encasing one of the rails in my hand. I watch as my band enters in from the steps on the other side of the stage, and they take their positions. They begin to play my intro song, and I nod my head to beat to try and get myself into the zone.
On stage, I'm more than just Marlowe Finch. On stage, I'm Marlowe Finch, the singer.
Once a certain beat hits, I race up the steps and onto the stage, the volume from the crowd increasing entirely as I walk the front of the surface. This was a smaller venue, so it was easy for the sound to fill the place, but I was honestly surprised at just how many people were here. I could tell there were people lined up from wall to wall, and the crowd extended all the way into the back towards the front door.
I can feel the large smile taking over my features as I make my way back into the middle of the stage towards my mic stand.
"LA, how are we feeling?" I call out, and the crowd begins to go wild again after just starting to calm down. "Well, you beautiful fucking people, I hope you came here to have a good time because that's what I intend on giving you. Did you guys come here to have a good time?"
I can hear the crowd yell back 'yeah' to me, and I laugh outside of the microphone before letting it meet my lips again. "I said, did you guys come here to have a good time?"
They yell back again even louder than before, and I nod. "Well let's start this damn party, shall we?"
●・○・●・○・●
My chest heaves as I finish my second to the last song. I turn to face my band, sending them all a huge smile, and they're sending me one right back. I turn back to the crowd, and I can feel a lump growing in my throat.
"You guys have been so incredible. I can't thank you enough," I tell them genuinely as I rest my hand against my chest. "I haven't played a hometown show in my time as an artist for various reasons, but I've finally found the strength within myself to do it, and you guys have given me a show even greater than I ever hoped. So thank you, to each and every one of you for making this night so special."
"I'm going to be taking a bit of a break to work on my first full album - not just an EP. Can you all believe that?" I ask, and the crowd cheers. "And it wouldn't be possible without all of you, truly. For this last song I'm going to sing, it's the only completed song I have so far for the new album. It's extremely personal to me, and I didn't know if I was going to play it tonight, but you guys have been so great to me. This is my gift to you. Thank you guys again."
Once more I turn to my band, and my guitarist, Garrett, lifts his eyebrows at me. I know that they all have to be surprised that I'm choosing to sing this song, but it feels right tonight. I give him a nod, and he begins to strum the chords for the introduction of the song.
After a while, the drums start as well, and I close my eyes tight as I keep my back to the audience. I listen to the music surrounding me and I tell myself that this is the moment for me to finally sing this - the most personal song I've written so far. I can hear that it's almost time for me to start singing, and I turn back to the crowd as I cup the microphone on the stand in both of my hands.
"Down to you. You're pushin' and pullin' me down to you, But I don't know what I-"
The song immediately goes into the chorus, and I find myself shutting my eyes again - shying away from the crowd for the first time tonight.
"Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that I should've never thought. Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that I should've never thought of you."
I hesitantly open my eyes, and I can see the crowd nodding their heads and swaying to the sound of the beat. That gives me a little more reassurance, and I feel a small smile twitch onto my lips as I watch them.
"Of you - you're pushin' and pullin' me down to you. But I don't know what I want. No, I don't know what I want."
Taking the microphone off the stand, I walk towards the front of the crowd and lean down, making eye contact with a few people as I sing the next verse.
"You got it, you got it - some kind of magic. Hypnotic, hypnotic - you're leaving me breathless I hate this. I hate this. You're not the one I believe in - with God as my witness."
The band leads me into the next chorus which then fades into the slower bridge, and I stop in the middle of the stage. I extend one of my hands over my head as I feel the music, and I begin to snake my body around while I sing out the next words.
"Don't know what I want, but I know it's not you. Keep pushin' and pullin' me down - when I know, in my heart, it's not you."
The song remains slower until the band kicks in heavy once again for the last chorus, and I quickly grab the microphone out of the middle of the stage, tossing it to the side, as myself, Garrett, and my bassist, Alice, begin to head bang.
"Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that I should've never thought. Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that-"
I slam down onto my knees on the stage, my dress long enough to cover me as it sit back slightly on my heels, and I press the palm of my hand not holding the microphone down onto the stage between my thighs as I belt out the last few lines of the song.
"I should've never thought of you. I knew. I know, in my heart, it's not you. I knew. But now, I know what I want, I want, I want. Oh, no, I should've never thought!"
Sucking in air to catch my breath, I keep myself in the position for a while. I didn't even realize that I had tears streaming down my cheeks, my eyes now burning from the sensation as my bottom lip trembles. I know my hair is covering me from the audience so they're not able to see how emotional I've become.
In order to distract the crowd a bit, the band begins to play the beginning of the song again, and I know they're doing it to stall - to help me recuperate, and give a proper end to my set.
Only a few more seconds go by before I push myself off the ground, and I lift my other hand to move my curls out of my face as I hold the microphone to my lips.
"You've been truly magical, LA," I compliment them, and I know that my tears are gone from my cheeks. I just hope that it hasn't been obvious that I've been crying. "Hopefully I'll be seeing you again really soon. Thank you again, get home safely, and have a good night!"
I begin to blow kisses to them and wave as I start towards the steps I had entered on, and I quickly feel an arm wrap around mine.
"Believe me when I say that was your best performance yet!" Lys squeals, leaning over to press her lips against my cheek, her hold tightening on my right arm as she does so. "I can't believe you played the song. They loved it, Marlowe."
Lys has set it up for me to sign a few things against a side barricade before heading back tonight, and I was more than okay with that. They start leading me towards backstage again, and the way the stage was set up, I have to walk a bit onto the main floor before entering the backstage door. There's a railing blocking me from everyone, and I move a bit closer to Lys as fans start screaming my name - extending copies of my EP for me to sign.
My eyes widen, and I stop to greet them. I sign the items and give them back, all while thanking each person for coming tonight, and for supporting me. Once I reach the end of the line, the main floor is practically cleared out, and we start towards the door.
"Marlowe," I hear my name, and I feel a hand brush against the top of my left arm.
I immediately flinch away and look over at the individual as the security behind us begins to block me from them. Looking away, I start towards the door again before I freeze - realizing the set of ivy colored eyes my blue ones had just been met with.
"Honey, come on," I know Lys is speaking to me, but her voice sounds far away as I turn to look at the person who is calling my name once again.
All the air gets pushed from my lungs when I see who it is, and my knees just about give out on me. He's dressed in a pair of tight black jeans with a pastel floral button-up. The top few buttons are undone to reveal the swallows I knew so well in addition to the antennas of the butterfly that adorns the top of his stomach.
"Harry," I breathe, and he gives me a nod.
It's then that I realize his hair is longer - much longer than the last time I've seen him. He lifts a hand to run through the front of it, pushing it out of his face, but he never averts his gaze from mine.
"No fucking way," I hear Lys whisper behind me, and she quickly gives my arm another squeeze. "Let's go, Marlowe. I'll have security see him out."
Shaking my head, I pull my arm away from her, and now I'm completely turning to face him.
"What do you want?" I ask him - my tone coming out more aggressive than I thought, and I've even surprised myself with that.
"Can we talk?"
Every fiber of my being tells me that I should tell him no. That I should just send him away, and that I don't owe him a thing for the years of turmoil he's put me through. But now that he's here in front of me, and I know he hasn't actually forgotten who I am, I want nothing more than to hear his voice for more than just a few seconds.
"You want to talk?" My eyebrows narrow, and I can feel one of my hands clenching into a fist by my side.
"That's what I asked, isn't it?"
"Alright, that's enough," Lys' voice cuts in, and I feel her wrap her arm around my chest as she starts to steer me towards the backstage area again. "Come on, let's get you changed and home."
"No," I tell her, and we stop again as I tilt my head towards the door - eyes still on Harry. "If you wanna talk, let's talk."
Harry peers at the security guard that just slightly towers over him as he makes his way around the barricade that was completely separating him from us. I swallow harshly as we start towards my dressing room, and Lys opens the door - following me inside.
"Marlowe, I don't know if this is such a good-"
"Look, Lys, I appreciate it, I do, and I understand why you would be hesitant to let me do this, but with the progress I've made - I feel like I need to," I explain, and I watch her nibble on the inside of her cheek before looking over her shoulder at Harry who was now also entering the room. "I have my phone on me, okay? If I need you, I'll call."
"Okay," she sighs, shaking her head in defeat when she knows that I'm going through with this. "Do you want me to leave one of the security guys outside of the door?"
I can't help but smirk softly at her proposition. "I'm okay, but thank you for offering."
Nodding, she starts out of the room, but she stops and looks at Harry. "I swear to god, if I get a phone call from her in the next five minutes and she's crying, I'll find out where you live, and I'll make sure that-"
"Lys!" I say, and she quickly makes eye contact with me as I raise my eyebrows.
"Right, sorry," she mumbles before heading out of the room.
Silence takes over, and I keep my eyes off of Harry as I walk over to my vanity. I grab the ashtray off the surface, as well as my pack of cigarettes, before I head over to the couch - plopping myself down on it. I stick a cigarette between my teeth to hold it stable as I lean down and begin to undo the buckles of my shoes. Once I have them undone, I toss both of them to the side, and I pluck the lighter out of my pack.
I quickly light the cigarette before leaning back into the couch a bit, one leg crossed over the other. In the time that I had taken my shoes off, I didn't notice that Harry had grabbed one of the fold up metal chairs that had been leaning up against the wall. He set it up right across from me, only the coffee table really separating the two of us.
Unfortunately, I find myself in a bit of a trance as I see him fish his own pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his jeans. He flips the lid and brings it up to his mouth, pulling one of the sticks out with his teeth. His eyes flip up to meet mine as he grabs his lighter and sparks it - heart shaped lips immediately closing down around the filter, and I watch the end glow orange.
We both pull the cigarettes from our mouths at the same time, and I tilt my head up to blow the smoke towards the ceiling, but his head remains level with his sight still set on me.
It only takes a few more seconds before we let our eyes journey down each other's bodies, and although I had taken him in out on the main floor, it was like I was doing it for the first time all over again. My head could hardly wrap around the fact that he no longer had some sort of bandana trapped inside his curls, and I could tell with the way his sleeves were rolled up to the creases of his elbows that he had gotten more tattoos over the years.
I'm sure I looked different to him too. My hair was now dark brown, almost black, instead of blonde. My body had truly formed into a woman, causing me to have thicker thighs and a fuller bust. Although my dress covered all of my chest, I knew he could still see the curve to my breasts. He cleared his throat once his eyes made it down to my legs that were still crossed, and he leaned forward to ash his cigarette into the tray.
"So you made it, huh?" He asks, licking over his bottom lip before taking another drag. "You did the whole music thing?"
I scoff slightly, and I can't help but roll my eyes at his statement. "Well, yeah, it was always my dream - my end goal. Just wish that..."
Trailing off, I decide not to finish my sentence as I shake my head. "Doesn't matter," I mumble softly. "What about you? Do you play anymore?
"Well, it would be hard to play considering your parents sold my drumset when they moved out of their home, but even then I wouldn't have wanted it. I still listen to music, but I could never see myself playing again like I did."
Frowning, I ash my own cigarette, leaning forward a bit to rest my wrist on top of my knee - tilting my head to the side. "That's a shame, Harry, you were talented," I tell him honestly, and for the first time I feel my stomach knot up from my nerves. "And my parents assured me that they put the check for the set in your mailbox."
"Oh they did," Harry laughs, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "Just another act of charity from them, just like all those years before."
I try to swallow down my anger with his comment, but I can feel my jaw tense. "They never saw you that way, and you know that I never did either. You bought that set with the money you earned from working at the record store. It was yours."
"Yeah, whatever," he shrugs me off with a wave of his hand as he takes an especially long drag.
It grows quiet again, and I finish off my cigarette - putting the butt out in the tray. Leaning back on the couch, I drape my arms across the top of it, and I watch as Harry pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Why are you here, Harry?" I ask, needing him to be straight up with me. I need to know why he chose me coming home to finally acknowledge my existence again.
"Saw your name on the marquee," he said, bringing his hand up to toy with his bottom lip instead, rolling it between the pad of his thumb and his index finger. "Had to make sure that it was you."
"Okay, I guess I'm just a little confused? It's been almost five years. I'm just not understanding how me coming home all of a sudden-"
"What? Do you think there's more to this than me just wanting to confirm that it's you? I'm not here from some type of emotional reunion, Marlowe. Jesus Christ," Harry shakes his head, snuffing his own cigarette out before reaching to grab his pack again.
"Oh, because there's just so many Marlowe Finch's in the world, right?" I ask him, feeling my hands begin to tremble as I drop them down onto the cushions beside me to cup the edge of the couch. "You just had to confirm it was me?"
"I don't know what kind of answer you're looking for here, but whatever it is, you're not getting it from me," Harry laughs darkly, his eyes completely avoiding me now.
Gritting my teeth, I stand from the couch and reach out to snatch his pack of cigarettes from his hand. "You owe me a fucking explanation," I seethe, tears beginning to burn in my eyes from how furious I'm feeling. "Do you understand what you've put me through?"
Harry rolls his eyes and I see a smirk take over his expression as he looks at the wall over my shoulder instead of looking at me. His lips roll, and I can tell that he's slightly sucking his teeth.
"Is something funny?" I lean down to block his view of the wall, and for the first time ever, I see a darkness in his green eyes.
It almost knocks the wind out of me as he's never looked at me with such a gaze, and he sits up from his slightly slouched position in his chair.
"Yeah, there is," he states, standing up, and he takes the pack back from me. "The fact that you think that I owe you anything. Whatever you went through after I told you I didn't want to be friends with you anymore is on you. I should've done it years prior, but you were clinging to me so hard and-"
"Don't you dare fucking finish that sentence," I grit at him, tugging the pleather gloves off my hands as they were growing too clammy for my liking. I toss them onto the couch behind me, and I walk forward so my chest is flush with his. "I was clinging to you? Harry, we only had each other until we found Kailey and Mikey, and then after that you found Sierra. But Sierra didn't really matter either, right? You were sick of her too from what you said. I just don't understand why you completely erased me from your life like you did. I tried to go to your house a month after you left and-"
"You know I never liked you going to my house," Harry's voice lowers, and I feel him buck his chest up against mine a little more. "My mum told me that you stopped by like you did, and that was stupid."
"I didn't have any other choice! You made me feel like I was losing my mind! Fuck - I feel like I'm losing it again right now. Even after five years, you still find a way to mess with my fucking head just by being in my presence for ten minutes," I gasp, moving away from him as my hands tangle into my hair. I begin to pace my dressing room, heart thumping in its cavity.
"I told you I wanted to see if it was you, and that's that. There's nothing more to it, and once I leave here tonight it'll be just like it has been. We won't see each other, we still won't be friends. Eventually you'll forget that you ever saw me again."
Tears wet my cheeks as I look back over to him, and I shake my head. "That's the thing, Harry, I won't. There's hardly been any time that I haven't thought of you over these years, and there's no way that this isn't going to stick just like all the other memories."
Harry steps towards me again, and I look up as his eyes bounce all over my face. "Then wake the fuck up, Marlowe, and learn to properly forget about me."
I open my mouth to speak again, but Harry's already turned around - making his way out of the dressing room. He slams the door behind him, and I quickly clamp a hand over my mouth to keep myself from sobbing out. I don't want anyone to hear me like this. I don't know if Lys is still here, but if she is, I know she'll find some way to have Harry's head if she hears me. I'm also really not in the mood to have someone comforting me.
Maybe I really had been fooling myself after all these years, thinking that he was missing me just as much as I was missing him. I couldn't blame him for coming tonight if his true reason was just to confirm that it was me - I'd probably do the same if the situations were reversed.
But what I didn't expect from Harry was the darkness that was surrounding him. That definitely wasn't the same person I knew, and at this point he was truly unrecognizable to me. The moment those green eyes turned into nothing but flourishing ivy I once held so dear - I knew he was never going to come back to me as the same old Harry. He doesn't want to come back at all.
Part of me thinks this is what I needed. I needed to see him as a stranger in order to completely move on from the past, and to actually let him go. But I know that as much as I try to convince myself of that, there is always going to be a small sliver inside that still wishes to hold him close, and to be able to call him my friend.
My therapist told me that your mind and your emotions work closely together in the most mysterious ways, and even though you may not even notice, they fight each other for dominance more than you think. I was told that my emotions usually end up winning, and that's what can cause me to go days without leaving my bed, or what can have me shutting myself away in the studio for weeks on end. She provided me with proper exercises to try and help clear things up when these struggles start to happen, and I know that when I get home tonight I'm going to have to dive into several of them to help overcome the way I'm currently feeling.
Once I collect myself, I slip out of my dress and accessories before pulling on a pair of leggings and some Doc Martens with an oversized black hoodie. I gathered everything that was mine in the dressing room, and walked out to my car, piling it all into the trunk. I've been in LA for a few days now, and yesterday I went ahead and purchased a car since I knew I was going to be here for several months at the very least.
I slide into the driver's seat, and I grasp the wheel as I start towards my new home.
During the car ride, it's like I've resorted back to those days right after Harry left. I don't play any music as I drive, and I feel like I'm just going through the motions until I can curl up under the covers of my bed and try to block out the thoughts bouncing back and forth in my mind.
If my mind was making one thing extremely clear though, it was that LA was going to be even more different than I thought when I left those years ago, and I'm not entirely sure if i'm prepared for that.
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