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#harry styles book
harrysonlylover · 14 hours
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Discipline
Summary: Agent Harry cherishes discipline, but he doesn’t like the fact that Y/n has been lacking it.
Trope: Agent Harry
WC: 6.8k
Warnings: MEAN Harry, shouting at Y/n, Angst, mention of blood tests and deficiencies, NO SMUT.
Agent Harry Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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Choosing to become an agent would either be the worst decision in your life or the best. In Harry’s case, it was the latter.
He was born a leader—at least according to his mother. He had the household controlled from a young age, something that was perceived as adorable by adults.
But behind all his antics and “boss orders”, was a man eager to assert dominance starting from his early years.
His behavior was a replica of a leader or a man in power. His mother didn’t oppose his personality, perhaps a part of her thought it was just a phase, while the other was okay with it.
Little did she know that this stubborn young man would grow up to become one of London’s best secret agents.
As some would say—he didn’t choose the path, the path chose him. A fresh High School graduate eager to take a bite from what the world was offering him with little to no guidance.
Instead, he poured all of his focus on training like a man ready to enroll in the military—something that his mom disapproved of.
How could she allow her son, her boy to sign himself up like that?
Underneath his rough exterior and judgmental persona, his mother’s beliefs were dear to him. To this day, no one has deemed himself as important as her, and perhaps no one ever will.
So, after her sudden death when he was merely twenty—he allowed himself to get lost in grief, to go against the orders he created, and betray his strictness. His body dragged him around from one place to another, asking for fights, a punch here and there to transfer his emotional maim to a physical one.
The last time he would do that was also his first chance at a new beginning. Drunk and out of his mind at a local bar, the whiskey still fresh on his tongue with rage bubbling in his core.
Just like every previous time, he ensued a fight for no reason. But this time, it was different because he had an admirer and more of a stalker.
Ezra Nakrosa, the director of the London Intelligence Agency. A man whose reputation preceded him and Harry’s mentor for the upcoming years.
He wasn’t actively pursuing him, but he kept his eyes on him after he managed to take down three men with alcohol in his system.
He watched him drink one glass after the other and scoffed to himself when he caused a fight. The last thing he expected was for Harry to outpower them all.
Since then, he watched him from afar, studied his file, and was even more interested upon finding out that he had no family.
The agency always preferred recruiting agents with little to no loved ones, for many obvious reasons and Ezra felt like he hit the jackpot.
That night, he watched Harry intently observing his moves and his body language, before approaching him after the bar owner kicked him out.
Again—he didn’t choose this path, it chose him.
Ezra didn’t even have the chance to speak because Harry was quick to confess that ‘he wasn’t dumb to not notice men stalking him’.
His agents were the best, so how did a man from a small town detect undercover agents?
He knew in that moment that he would work hard to recruit Harry, and ironically he didn’t have to ask twice.
From that day onwards, Harry climbed the ladder to the top with the help of his mentor. He found a purpose to live again, somewhere to cage his rage, and use his strategic thinking skills paired with his physical strength.
While most agents took time to adapt to the new environment, and around two years to be qualified as a field agent—Harry got his first mission in one year.
Not because Ezra secretly favored him compared to others, but because he managed to prove himself worthy, making the board demand his transfer to the field.
He was aware of the progress he made and with every milestone, his ego inflated a bit (and his biceps too).
He turned thirty-one recently, marking eleven years of being a skilled agent. Ezra’s retirement is approaching by the second and everyone is whispering rumors about Harry becoming the next chief director.
It’s a decision that hasn’t been discussed yet, but Ezra is aware that Harry will approve instantly because no one can do it like him. Besides, the agency is his entire life.
He has no loved ones and he dedicated years and hard work to the agency. He knows nothing else.
What could make Harry Styles so busy other than his position as a secret agent?
The agency is preparing for a major attack on a drug cartel, and Harry has been training everyone ruthlessly. The plan he devised was strategic and well-planned from A to Z. It can’t go wrong.
But for today, he allowed them some rest after some bargaining with the other trainer. So instead, he directed his focus towards other agents.
According to him, time can’t be wasted.
The room was filled with agents in every corner. Most of them were beginners while the others trained for their upcoming missions that weren’t as important as the drug cartel attack.
The smell of sweat and tiredness reeked from their exhausted but energetic bodies. Harry focused on strengthening their stamina because a weak one won’t benefit them in the field.
“Faster! A child can do better than you.” His voice echoed in the tight space as he stood in front of the lined agents on the ground.
Even his position whether he was sitting or standing declared his authority and sense of power. His arms were folded against his chest, showcasing his pumped biceps and his facial expression did not harbor any warm smile or softness. No one dared to look him in the eyes anyway.
“With a stamina like that, you’d be dead already!” His loud shouting wasn’t helping the poor beginner agents who cursed their luck that landed Harry as their trainer for the day.
Their current exercise was pushups. A basic one but effective in Harry’s opinion, but their exhaustion makes sense when he wants them to do 200 consecutive pushups without resting, and with sudden planks in between that don’t stop until he says so.
Harry may be a bit biased, but he fully believes that the other trainer (whom he doesn’t like) is being too soft with the newcomers. Something that shouldn’t happen.
He glanced at their worn-out faces and rolled his eyes before dismissing them.
“I’ll be discussing your weaknesses with Agent Ian. Go eat and rest but know that you shouldn’t be called agents for this shitshow.” He spat his criticism mercilessly uncaring for their feelings.
He watched them stumble out of the room, some of them limping as he remained in his place with the same posture of a leader.
Once everyone was out, his gaze drifted to the punching bag in the corner. He felt like it was calling for him despite the four-hour workout he did in the morning.
His thirst for combat or any type of martial arts could not be tamed. But upon gazing a bit too much at the punching bag, he remembered something he was supposed to do.
His legs immediately take action before his brain as he flees out of the room heading towards a private floor that is restricted for regular agents.
Only Harry, Ezra, high-ranking agents, and members of the board can access this floor. But for an unknown reason, Harry found himself giving Y/n access to his private gym.
There are many layers to things that shouldn’t happen but it seemed as if Harry didn’t care or was perhaps unaware of his actions.
Agents like Y/n shouldn’t be on this floor, but they also can’t be trained privately.
The first restriction is more important, but the second is rather for caution—to maintain a professional relationship between regular agents and higher rank ones.
All agents were trained in groups and if they needed to work on certain issues, their trainer would give them advice but not train them individually.
Harry doesn’t always train Y/n’s group but as of late, he noticed her lack of discipline and physical stamina when it comes to combat.
He knew that she wasn’t that weak which meant that she had been slacking off with training and that pissed him off.
So he ordered her to wait for him in room 309 at exactly two in the afternoon. His boots left an echo as he walked through the corridor with a confident stride. Yet, something kept poking at his brain allowing anxiety to settle in his stomach. He wasn’t entirely comfortable.
He pushed the door to the gym open, reaching his hand for the light switch. It was somewhat dim, obscuring Y/n from his view. She sat on the ground in a corner with her head tilted upwards. In the few seconds between moving her head and meeting his sharp eyes, he got to catch a glimpse of her in a calm state, almost unobserved. Even then, she looked obscenely beautiful.
“You’re late.” She gestured to the clock on the wall in a sarcastic tone that indicated his five-minute delay.
“No. You’re early.” He tried to hide his smirk before failing upon seeing the frown on her face.
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and supported her body using her hands to get up—something that caught Harry’s eye.
“You’re an agent. You shouldn’t act like a 70-year-old woman at a retirement home.” His tone could cut a vein open, but at this point, she kind of got familiar with it.
She avoided responding or looking him in the eye because one answer would drag the other and he would end up questioning her on her performance—and frankly, she doesn’t have a proper response for that.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t take it any further and instructs her to warm up for fifteen minutes in a corner.
She does so with exhaustion traveling through her veins. The only thing that helps her through it is the sight of his athletic body.
His shirt is still on but it perfectly outlines his biceps that he wraps around her body to manhandle her during sex—
She quickly shakes her head to rid herself of the sinful thoughts she’s having. But again—would it be so bad to crave something that happens every other day?
Their steamy encounters keep increasing behind closed doors, and he puts on his boss’s facade once they’re out. She’s not sure if she likes that or not, but either way, she doesn’t have a say in it.
Their relationship is strictly physical.
Even if her lips begged her to find his at random moments throughout the day, even if their naked bodies molded after sex, and even if she was awake when he kissed her temple.
“Okay, that’s it.” The expression on his face held ambiguous cues, but he refrained from saying anything.
She caught her breath as shame creeped up her face planting a rosy color on her cheeks. She walked over to him with her head hung low, and nails digging into her palm.
“I need you to do some boxing because your game is getting weak.” He sighed as disappointment reeked from his words, causing more redness to settle on her face.
He helped her wear the boxing gloves as he intently glanced at her worried expression.
The first ten minutes were okay. Some form of another warm-up in Harry’s opinion. He has seen her train many times before and by now she would have the bag swinging left and right.
It made him think back to her friendly match with another agent and how she got a hit to the stomach—if he hadn’t stopped it, other areas would have been affected as well.
Not to mention her stamina in recent training—Harry simply could not let her lose her strength out of everyone else.
“Focus harder.” His posture was a warning—an indication of his bubbling anger. His arms were crossed, giving more room for his biceps to rightfully appear.
His legs were parted as he stood motionless, simply burning Y/n’s shame with his piercing gaze. She could feel it. How he had something going on in his mind, aching to roll off his lips.
His jaw ticked while his eyes followed the movement of her hands in sync with the boxing bag. It was a disaster.
“You know who gives this fucking performance? A beginner.” His tone began to increase gradually.
She swallowed down her throat, trying to ignore his intimidating posture and body that could be warm at times and cold at others.
It wasn’t odd for him to be harsh and strict during training—except that he never spoke to her like this. Not even when she was snarky and replied at things that had nothing to do with her.
Superior agents were not allowed to train any lower-ranking agent privately, and she wasn’t an idiot to dismiss that rule. But why was he acting this way?
She punched harder gathering all the strength left in her muscles, for the bag to only move a bit farther. She almost lost her footing but kept going for him. She never wanted to disappoint him.
“A fucking shitshow.” He mumbled quietly under his breath—but she heard it, and it went straight through her heart like an arrow.
“For the love of god, you’re a skilled agent so act like one!” His shouting echoed through the room making her stop and glance at him.
He was visibly furious with a vein bulging from his neck. His hand was trembling and his breaths were laboured. She hasn’t seen him in such a state before, and she regrets that she just did.
No one wanted to be on the receiving end of his anger but especially not her.
Besides, underneath all the tough facade that she puts on and her bold replies, she’s very sensitive and completely vulnerable when it comes to him.
Getting shouted at and taking orders from superiors was just another day for agents, but Harry? She was fucking falling for him.
She sighed, gathering her pride before continuing to punch the bag, ignoring the signs her body was giving her to stop.
He observed her for a minute or two, with his eyes darting between her hands and the sway of the bag. He slid down to her legs, and how they were positioned and stationed.
He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and shook his head in frustration. Did everything she learn evaporate in thin air?
“If you were in the field right now, you’d be fucking dead.” He began walking around her, throwing one sharp comment after the other.
“Are your legs paralyzed? Are you supposed to stand like that when fighting?! His shouting kept getting louder, pushing at her tear duct to open.
He suddenly punched the bag with his bare hand causing it to swing way farther, almost hitting the mirror facing them.
“Is it that hard, Y/n?” He gestured to the swinging bag.
“Where is your strength!” He was fucking fuming.
What would he do if she went on a mission with such weakness? What would happen to her if he wasn’t there?
He was too occupied with his fears to notice her frantically taking the gloves off with tears streaming down her extremely rosy cheeks.
“Y/n…” He tried to speak but her sobbing was louder than his words.
It was just another training. He has been way harsher before but this was his first time seeing her cry because of him. It was more painful than a bullet.
“J-just stop!” Her words were barely coherent with how hard she was crying. He stood in front of her unable to do or say anything.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was never supposed to cry because of him and he shouldn’t have raised his voice this way.
The boxing gloves hit the ground as she hiccuped from sobbing. She picked up her bag from the ground and turned around to face him with red eyes and a broken expression.
“Leave me alone.” The loud thud of the door closing made him flinch. He still hasn’t moved an inch trying to grasp what he had done.
Being mean and strict was all he ever knew. He never toned it down for anyone and it didn’t reflect how he felt towards them. When it came to Y/n, it was more out of protection and fear of something happening to her. He wanted her to defend herself properly and be a skilled agent. He didn’t understand why she was slacking with training like that, missing some sessions, or letting other agents beat her.
She was an amazing agent and managed to reach the top ranks in a short period, just like him.
He lost himself while training her, but he shouldn’t have assumed that she could take all of that as a motivation. There’s no such thing as being gentle in the agency, and Y/n is one tough woman. Still, he didn’t speak to her like that before. If anything, she was the only agent he praised in his ten years of service.
Did that have to do with their secret meet-ups?
Whatever the reason, he fucked up. If someone made her cry, he wouldn’t let them see the light of the day again, and no he doesn’t know why he feels the need to protect her from everything or why he isn’t running after her this instant.
He’s a pretty shit communicator—that’s the only thing he knows.
“Harry.” Ezra snapped him out of his thoughts. He was standing in the doorway with a worried expression.
“In my office. Now.” ——————————————————Harry was all too familiar with this office. He has been here a million times for the good and bad. The leather sofa he’s resting on is somewhat his signature sofa, no one else uses it but him.
His legs are spread and his left knee is bouncing as his fingers tap repeatedly on the edge of the sofa. His expression is serious as always and holds no room for bargaining. If you get close enough, you’d hear his blood boiling in his veins and the echo of Y/n’s cries repeating in his head.
“Harry.” Ezra cleared his throat, letting out an exhale before clasping his hands together.
He didn’t need to wait for Harry to turn around and acknowledge him, he had his body language memorized by heart. He instantly caught on and noticed his agitation and stress—something that he doesn’t exhibit regularly.
“I will not question you as to why an agent like Y/n had access to this restricted floor.” Ezra trusted her but if it were a different agent, he could not let it slide easily.
“What I will ask is—why did she run from here crying?” He wasn’t born yesterday. Harry’s bias toward her and his extra attention was easy to catch, especially when he had known him for a long period.
His question was met with silence and the tightening of Harry’s jaw. He kept observing him shamelessly wondering when was the last time he showed such distress over another human being.
“At least tell me why you were training her privately. You have never done that nor should you, but what’s so simple—“
“She’s getting weaker!” Harry slammed his hand on the mahogany desk, catching Ezra off guard and spilling some of his coffee.
“Low stamina and endurance, weak punches, wrong posture, and allowing others to win in matches.” His nostrils flared while his hand trembled from the pent-up anger. The tick of his jaw was unsettling and his brows furrowed with great agitation.
Ezra remained calm partly because he was familiar with Harry’s outbursts, but also because he was shocked by his response.
It would be hard to recall a decade of knowing someone, but if he’s not mistaken, Ezra has never witnessed Harry giving two fucks about someone other than his late mother, let alone an agent.
But damn it if it didn’t make sense.
“So what? Many agents slack sometimes.”
“Well, she’s not any agent. She’s smart, strong, and a skilled agent. Have you thought about what would happen to her in the field?!” His body language was less tense, but his defense grew stronger giving Ezra the final piece of the puzzle.
As the chief director of the agency, he’s slightly disappointed by Harry’s lack of professionalism, but as his mentor and nonbiological father figure, he’s happy for him.
He’s on the road to finding love and caring for someone else is a promising step to de-freeze his cold heart.
Ezra didn’t convey any form of emotion and sported a poker face. Harry looked as if he was still gathering evidence in his mind while simultaneously waiting for Ezra to say something.
“A while ago, Y/n asked for my help.” Harry’s expression changed completely.
“Wha—“
“Patience Son.” He warned, gesturing for him to relax a bit—which he did reluctantly.
“She wasn’t feeling well and told me that she wanted to get some tests done.” The words rolled off his lips smoothly as if he wasn’t casually telling him that something was wrong with her. If it weren’t for Ezra, Harry would be halfway through the door right now.
“The only obstacle was you.”
“Me?” Harry’s voice was rather timid this time—another surprise for Ezra.
“Yes. If she asked for the agency’s doctor to perform them, then you would have known one way or another. The reason she avoided telling you remained unknown to me—but I did help her to get them done.” Harry’s mouth went dry and he felt his vision getting blurry.
Y/n was not feeling fine, and he thought she was slacking.
He was frozen in his place, stuck to the sofa trying to comprehend what his mentor just said. His chest tightened and his heartbeats increased gradually.
“I—“
“The tests came back and the doctor I contacted said that it’s mild anemia. Nothing too scary, it’s treatable.” Ezra stopped right there after noticing the change of color on Harry’s face. He looked like he was about to faint.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He immediately passed him a water bottle and watched him take a few sips with furrowed brows.
What is up with this boy, Ezra thought.
“Do you need food—“
“She doesn’t have a history of anemia, where the fuck did it come from?” He returned to his normal angry self by posing more questions.
“The doctor said that mild anemia can develop suddenly—due to lifestyle practices of course but Harry it’s manageable.“ He could no longer tell his body language. Was he angry? sad? overwhelmed?
Harry stared at the wall, avoiding eye contact but continued his knee bouncing. He unconsciously began cracking his knuckles as Ezra’s presence was erased from his mind.
Only Y/n occupied his thoughts.
His little minx.
She was sick, refused to inform him and all he did was make it worse. His nails dug into the leather sofa, almost tearing off a piece with how hard he pressed.
He was a fucking idiot for not noticing her cues. What kind of sick bastard was he?
“Harry!” Ezra stood in front of him, snapping his fingers to coax him back from his dissociation.
He had a file in his hand that he threw in Harry’s lap. “These are her tests. Take them and fix what you have done son. I know that you hate apologizing—but sometimes it’s what you should do with certain people like Y/n.”
Harry was up on his feet in seconds heading towards the door with the file in his hand.
“And Harry?”
He waited for him to turn around before continuing.
“I know nothing about this.” A hint of a smile was painted across his face with some mischief.
——————————————————
Y/n was curled up on her couch under her fuzzy blanket with a half-eaten chocolate bar next to her. Her tears barely dried before another wave came through upon remembering what unfolded a few hours ago.
She glanced to the other side of the room where her beloved (and only) companion was staring.
“He’s a meanie TimTim.” She wiped her tears using her sleeves as her sniffling increased.
Unfortunately, her companion cannot comfort her verbally. TimTim is a penguin plushie that has been with her through everything. The nature of her job prevented her from adopting a pet—something that she wanted so badly. Her constant absence did not make her qualified to look after a small creature, but TimTim sufficed.
“…but he has a good dick… and a good heart sometimes.” She rolled her eyes at her stupidness. No matter how badly someone hurt her, she’d always find an excuse to justify their actions.
Her recent argument with Harry had many layers to it. To begin with, he wasn’t exactly a love-dovie type of person. His attitude toward her was slightly less bitchy compared to other agents—but she also drove him nuts by throwing back sassy replies and remarks.
He was the most stubborn and cold-blooded man she had ever met, not because he liked to do it for fun or out of sadist tendencies—it was just his character.
Discipline, Respect, Loyalty. Those were his most sacred traits. Most agents nowadays were weak according to him, so he found himself resorting to tougher training and a harsher approach.
Her eyes didn’t swell with tears because of his sharp words and anger. Frankly, she knew how he could turn into someone else during training, and rightfully so.
But validation from him mattered. If she placed her biased feelings aside, she would find that he was her favorite superior. He’s a talented agent with the right principles and morals. She looked up to him.
She never wanted to disappoint him, but she managed to.
The more she thought about it, the more tears flowed out of her tear duct. The fury and frustration that he expressed pained her, it was so different from his usual smirks that were followed by praises.
When she could no longer handle his disappointment, she broke down revealing all the ache that she had been carrying.
Letting him down was never on her agenda, but neither was getting sick. She began noticing her decrease in performance a while ago, along with fainting twice. She dismissed it thinking that she just needed more sleep or perhaps more days off.
But when the symptoms persisted, she knew something was off. Telling Harry was not an option, mostly because she didn’t know how he would react but it also felt like something that must be kept a secret from him, so she resorted to Ezra.
He hasn’t replied but she spotted him from her peripheral vision upon leaving earlier today, and her emotions were all over the place to give two fucks, which explains why she came to her apartment.
Usually field agents like her sleep at the agency and dedicate their time to the secret service. She was one among many who became orphans at a young age, and this made it easier for the agency to make them stay there instead of in apartments.
No loved ones always meant a safer life for people like them.
Still, Y/n liked the idea of having a designated space for her. If she was destined to be lonely, she might as well learn to enjoy it.
So despite not being allowed to leave without prior notice, she immediately found herself in her cozy flat munching on chocolate and ranting to TimTim as she hiccuped and sniffled repeatedly.
What confused her even more was his expression of regret upon seeing her cry. She was too upset to register it, but now that she let everything out and recalled what went down, she was certain that it wasn’t something usual of him.
His entire demeanour switched and he was confused whether to step forward or backward as he softly whispered her name.
Did he act the same way with other agents? Fuck no.
But does that mean that he regretted what he had done?
Maybe his eyes that tried to decode her feelings exposed him, or his hand that unconsciously moved forward towards her body—
Y/n covered her face with her hands and groaned loudly as if her thoughts would stop colliding. Everything was puzzling her more and more. Was he disappointed or not?
The loud banging on her door pulled her out of her tangled thoughts and vulnerable character.
She certainly wasn’t around enough to become besties with her neighbors or have friends to pop in for girls’ night.
Perhaps the agency sent someone to get her, but how would they know that she came here? Maybe they just tried their luck—
The banging got louder as if it was a warning. Whoever was outside, planned to come inside no matter what.
Y/n immediately switched into agent mode and grabbed a gun from the nearest drawer. Better be safe than sorry.
She walked slowly to the door with careful footsteps and high heartbeats. The door didn’t have a hole in it, so she’d either have to ask who was outside—or open the door.
But her guest beat her to it.
“Y/n…open the door.” Harry’s voice made her take a step back. The fresh tear stains on her cheeks burned upon hearing his words. What brought him here?
Hell, a serial killer would’ve been less surprising.
“No.” She lowered her gun and relaxed her shoulders a bit. More tears threatened to fall as she slowly turned around toward the couch.
He hasn’t been to her apartment before which means that he had some fun with her record. He’s most likely here to drive her back to the agency where she’ll receive a warning for leaving—what else could be here for?
“Y/n… I can pick the lock, break the door, or you can just let me in.” He huffed in annoyance at her stubbornness. She might as well turn on the TV to ignore him.
They both knew that he wasn’t joking. He could break in if he wanted, but Y/n was too busy trying to understand why he came here.
“Listen, I know about the lab tests.” Y/n’s eyes widened in shock. Damn it, Ezra.
So this is what he’s here for. A double warning. One for leaving and one for not informing him of her sickness.
She was near the door in two seconds, unlocking it and facing him despite her messy look and tired teary face.
“Since when—“ She meant to stay focused. She really did. But as usual, he found a way to make her forget about her anger.
He was dressed normally. It was odd to see him in something outside of his work attire, even if it was a simple hoodie with matching joggers. He looked cozy.
But what made her jaw drop was the fresh bouquet of yellow tulips in his right hand.
He got her flowers?
He cleared his throat making her realize how shocked she looked, and he didn’t blame her. She was the first woman he bought flowers for, ever.
The sight of her swollen eye and dried tears made him tighten his grip on the bouquet. A sight that will never leave his mind.
“I—“ She tried to let out something but she failed and moved aside for him to enter.
“Why the tulips?” She stood with her arms crossed trying to decipher what was going on.
“You like them.” His answer was short and clear but it held more meaning. She doesn’t recall letting him in on her favorite flowers—
“I overheard you telling Tania.” He shrugged as if it was not a big deal to eavesdrop on other agents and then memorize Y/n’s favorite flower.
He scanned the apartment with his eyes carefully—a habit of his for safety. It was more out of curiosity as if it would whisper to him secrets about Y/n.
“Why are you here?” Her voice seemed timid and broken.
He ignored her query and continued scanning his surroundings for a hint of her personality.
“Chocolate…?” He furrowed his eyebrows at her but it was hard to focus or look her in the eye without noticing her puffy face.
“Here to lecture me?” She scoffed, walking past him to the safe corner she made on her couch.
She covered herself and returned to her previous position as if her superior at work was not standing before her—with her favorite flowers still in his hand.
What the fuck is up with the flowers, she thought.
“If you want to stand there and give your lecture, then be my guest.” She mumbled coldly without blinking once. The coziness from the soft blanket slowly came back, but Harry’s cold stare fought it.
The last thing she expected him to do was sit next to her and rest his hands on her legs. She had a billion questions swimming in her head and she bit her tongue to not ramble and ask what the fuck was going on.
“I’m Sorry.” It rolled off his lips so easily, but her ears couldn’t process it. She stayed silent and did not move an inch as she stared ahead, ignoring his warm touch.
If she can’t understand anything, she’ll just listen and observe cluelessly.
“I had no idea that you were sick— I wouldn’t have pushed you this much if I did. But still, that’s not an excuse. I shouldn’t push you at all.” His words were direct and his voice was unshakeable. He was fully confident of what he was saying, with no shame.
She swallowed down her throat, fighting the tears threatening to fall down her face.
“I spoke with Ezra…and he gave me your tests. A doctor reviewed them and said it’s mild anemia.” The tears fell silently on her face disobeying her. Harry stopped speaking as if he felt her sadness.
“Could you get up a bit? Hmm?” He rubbed soothing circles on her skin and waited patiently for her answer.
She slowly lifted herself despite her reluctance, but still refused to look him in the eye. He can see her tears falling from the side and it makes him want to punch a wall.
“Attagirl. Look at me please.” He stroked her cheek softly with his knuckles.
She slowly turned her face in his direction as his hand reached out to wipe her tears.
“You’re pretty when you cry, but I don’t like it.” He whispered with his voice being barely audible. His eyes were fixated on her gorgeous lashes that she batted at him. How did she exist like an angel so casually?
“Yeah well, it was you who made me cry.” She mumbled like a child, crossing her arms at her chest.
“I’m a dickhead.” He laughed at the cute face she made with his hand still wiping any new tears that fall.
He’ll be damned if he’ll let her cry again.
“I know.” She rolled her eyes and reached out for the file next to him.
“Y/n—“
“What did the doctor say?”
“Like I said, it’s mild anemia. But nothing too dangerous. I got you the supplement he prescribed.” Harry gestured to the bottle placed near the flowers.
“And you missy will have your diet monitored by me. I want you eating iron-filled foods—“ He barely completely his sentence before Y/n was groaning loudly and slumping backward on the couch.
“Get up. Don’t make me tickle you.” He warned and she lifted herself within seconds with a pout on her face.
“Now the question is… why were you ignoring your needs?” It was the only question that she wished he wouldn’t ask. But nothing can stop him from knowing what he wants.
She stared at TimTim despite his piercing gaze on her hoping that the plushie could rescue her somehow.
“I wasn’t ignoring them, I guess I simply didn’t realize.” She swallowed down her throat, avoiding eye contact.
“You didn’t want to tell me.” He pressed further. His tone was soft but impatient—he’d beg on his knees if he had to.
“I—“ She focused her gaze on TimTim again causing Harry to turn his head around for a look.
“A plushie?” He scrunched his face in shock.
“So?” She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms against her chest. She seemed ready to punch him if he made fun of her.
“No comment.” He raised his hands in the air letting out a soft smile. It was a rare sight, but a beautiful one. She liked seeing him smile as his dimples popped up on his soft face.
“Don’t run away from the question though.” He whispered with his eyes begging her for the truth.
Her tears had dried but her face was still puffy and her eyes were swollen. There weren’t any tears to wipe but that didn’t stop Harry from reaching out his hand to caress her cheeks.
His warm touch was weird to decipher, it seemed able to burn her at times, just like his words.
“I didn’t want to disappoint you.” She blurted out suddenly before inhaling sharply in shock as if her mouth betrayed her without permission.
Harry’s facial expression shifted from softness to something she couldn’t decode—but the pain was recognizable.
She lowered her gaze as her cheeks became flushed with embarrassment. His hand slowly inched away from her skin, feeling unworthy of touching her.
“You could never disappoint me.” He whispered it like a promise. A sacred one. He couldn’t believe that she would think like that even for a second.
He was so fucking proud of her. He pushed her earlier today but he was lenient with her before. A bullet wound would’ve been better to take than her confession.
She mattered to him whether he was aware or not but the clutch in his chest must’ve given him a hint.
“Look at me, please.”
She lifted her chin reluctantly and looked him in the eye. This was her first time seeing him this vulnerable—it was so easy to read his eyes.
“There’s no way you could disappoint me. Ever.”
“I slacked in performance—“
“Fuck that. You need rest.” He shook his head, denying all the false thoughts she had.
“What I did earlier was a mistake and it won’t happen again.” It was more of a vow than a promise.
Silence filled the apartment after his last sentence. They shamelessly stared into each other’s eyes despite the intrusion of TimTim. Harry knew that if he didn’t do or say something—he’d have his lips on her in mere seconds.
“I should get going.” He cleared his throat and stood up.
Y/n was still going through a rollercoaster of emotions. She ached to ask him something back, it was fair to do so. But instead, she decided to let him go.
“Also…” He fetched a paper out of his hand and left it on her couch. “You’re allowed a week of rest. That means no training, no gym, and you can stay here.”
Surprise was prominent on her face. She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it.
“No objections. I need you to rest.” She’s not sure if this was allowed—if the board knew about the leave he granted her. It seemed to pile up amongst many of the other things she wondered about.
“Okay…” She balanced herself on her feet and walked him to the door.
“This doesn’t mean I’m done being mad at you.” She mumbled sarcastically.
“Good. I like it when you’re bratty.” He winked at her as he opened the door.
She watched him walk away before turning around and looking at her.
“Oh and Y/n? I’ll have a customized meal plan delivered to your house. For fuck’s sake don’t live off chocolate.”
“But—“
“No buts and take your supplement.” His voice echoed in the building as he descended the stairs.
She stood motionless at the door with her arms folded against her chest as she scrunched her face and rolled her eyes at his bossy orders.
“Don’t roll your eyes missy.” His voice was distant signaling that he reached the ground floor. She slammed the door shut in response, unable to contain the smile that crept up on her face.
She didn’t lie to TimTim—he does have a good heart sometimes, but discipline remains cherished.
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jarofstyles · 2 years
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Home On The Range
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Home is where the heart is. That’s what they always say.
For Harry, the ranch was home. Nothing else ever felt as warm or as comfortable as the pies in the window, the sound of twangy guitars coming from outdated radios in the barn, the smell of hay. Sprawling mountains and the deep valleys, the sounds of horses running through dewy grass.
That’s what home was to him, until she walked up the dusty drive.
Howdy besties, and welcome to Home on the Range. Hope you find this cures your cravings for a ranching man!
Warnings: talk of death, grief and loss. Jealousy, slight angst, toothache worthy fluff, flannel, and a sprinkle of dirty rancher smut. A spank here and there. We are happy to answer any questions you have about our little universe and discuss it with you if you send a message in our ask box!
Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writings!
🐎☀️🥧🍻
1. Peach Cobbler
2. Biscuits&Gravy
3. Sweet Tea
4. Pecan Pie
5. Grits*
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kwritingbooks · 1 year
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co-written by me & @shroombloomm
read on wattpad or tumblr masterlist
The true meaning of bittersweet, something Harry was finally coming to understand.
AU: star-being!harry x astronomy-student!aurora
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Harry’s POV 
Bittersweet. 
I never knew what bittersweet was, nor had I ever heard the word until I traveled to Earth. How could something so sweet be so bitter? When I would think about sweets, I would think about the first cupcake I had with Aurora. The thick icing was overpowering, but the taste of the soft cake underneath was just enough to even it out. 
Bitter was the black coffee I drank when I stopped by the coffee shop without Aurora one time. Because of the fact that I didn’t remember the drink I had ordered with her previously, I didn't know exactly what to put in it. So, I ordered a coffee, because that word I knew for sure was a part of it. It came black, a vast difference from the blonde beverage I was accustomed to with her. It was hot, bitter, and made the roof of my mouth have an odd taste to it. 
So when Leon and I were traveling down to Earth to say goodbye to Aurora, all I could think about were those two things together: bitterness and sweetness, a cocktail of misalignment. If you would have asked me, I would’ve eaten a million sweet cupcakes until I got sick if it meant that I never had to experience the bitter taste of that bean water again.
That I knew for sure.
But those were two odds of a spectrum, and I never quite understood how things could co-exist when on either side. Now I think I understood. 
This was what bittersweet felt like, and it was painful.
When Leon told me about his past lover he had on Earth, it made me feel like we were closer, at least given that I was still a bit cold towards him. But that didn’t take away from the fact that he had hidden this from me for so long. I’d never even seen him with another star-being on our planet. I always chalked it up to him always being too busy with missions and not having enough time for any form of relationship with others. That was what he led me to believe anyway.
But now I began to wonder if it was because nobody would ever fill the Mathilde shaped hole in his heart. 
I wondered if that was going to happen to me after tonight. 
As our bodies traveled in speed that was much faster than anything that moved on Aurora’s planet below us, I couldn’t help but somehow get lost in my thoughts. What normally would have felt like fleeting moments, then felt like days spent on Earth, lost in thought.
I thought about Leon’s Mathilde. My mind warped images in my mind of what she could have looked like. According to history books I had found in Aurora’s bookshelf, people dressed differently based on where they lived and when it happened. There were no tops like Aurora would wear with her bellybutton poking out beneath the fabric–at least not in the years that Mathilde was around.
I also began to think about personality traits she must have had. Was Leon the same Leon that I knew when they were together? It was so hard to imagine Leon going out of his way and expressing his feelings, something that apparently people in relationships did on a daily basis based on the romantic comedies Aurora would have me watch with her. I grew to really like them. 
It was just hard to see Leon playing that role of a lover who would make others laugh. He would sometimes make me laugh, but there weren’t many times I could count. Usually he was figuring out how to get on father’s best side, and the other half of the time was reaping the benefits of that.
What kind of person could bring out such a different side of him? She must have been like my Aurora. Only someone full of light can bring out the light in someone else like that, like she did for me. It was a light I didn’t even know could come out. It was pure and it made me feel light on my feet, and not in the physical way of flying or falling like I was used to.
She made my experience of life much more beautiful and well lived, and in a much shorter timeframe than I had already lived elsewhere while in this shared galaxy.
That was also why I had to see her again. Even if this would be the last time ever.
When we landed, I had to rub my face to get the dirt debris off that had flung up from the sudden wind that swept us down. We landed directly in the park across the street from Aurora’s apartment, hidden off in a thick section of trees. All the neighboring houses had their lights off and their porch lights on, while the moon was just coming up over the treelines, inviting the night in. I wasn’t sure of the exact time, but I knew that it was deep in the night at this point, Leon and I made sure of it before takeoff. Usually with each landing I would be cautious on where I landed, but given the circumstances of the situation, I was a bit messy this time I had to admit. 
I was honestly surprised that Leon went through with it, but maybe he just wasn’t in the mood to argue anymore either. Or maybe he was also being stupid. That trait could easily have been genetic apparently.
I couldn’t count the amount of days, possibly weeks, that I’d gone without seeing Aurora. I would’ve said I was excited to see her again, but I feared that this was the last memory I’d ever have in her presence. I hoped she wouldn’t be too upset; I wasn’t sure I could handle having her upset as the last visual I had to remember her with.
I needed our last memory to be a good one. For both of us.
Standing across the street, lit up by the streetlights in front of us in a yellow glow, I stared eagerly at the apartment I had grown to know over the last few months. My palms were sweating nervously as I considered how that growth would soon end.
“You ready?” Leon knocked me out of my thoughts. 
I sighed in acknowledgment.
The truth was, I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t sure I would ever be truly ready. Getting to say goodbye to Aurora was a treat, but it was a death sentence wrapped up into one. Bittersweet, it was, and painfully so. 
There were so many things we never got to do together, so many memories to be made, so many things I wanted to say, but never knew how to. 
Time was so precious, and I felt like I had wasted it. There were no repairs to be made on something that could not only be undone, but even fixed at all. That was it. No redos. 
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I breathed out, wiping my sweaty palms onto my jeans. “Are you–are you coming with me?” 
Leon’s stern display softened, glancing towards me out of the corner of his eye. 
“Do you want me to?” 
I thought for a moment. “How much time do I have with her?” 
Leon pulled his arm out in front of him, flicking his wrist ever so slightly to adjust his sleeve and exposed the watch on his wrist. His face twisted, lips pursed. 
I didn’t even know he kept a watch on him.
“You’ve got ten minutes before father notices we are both gone. The guards will make sure of it after that.” He dropped his arm back down to his side, his sleeve falling down to hide the wretched device that had just crushed my spirits.
Ten minutes?
If that was all I had, then I wanted to spend the time alone. I didn’t want Leon to watch over me, especially since this would be a vulnerable moment for the both of us. 
“Stay here.” I breathed quickly, now knowing I was wasting my time by standing there. I took a step, swallowing the bile in my throat as I began to walk towards the apartment, but Leon reached out and took a hold of my arm before I could go any further. 
“Stay outside. I trust you, but–” Leon flickered his gaze between me and the house. “I need to watch you.” 
Staring at Leon, his eyebrows shadowed over his eyes with a knowing look. I knew what he was thinking, he didn’t have to say it. But I knew. 
“You think I’m going to run, don’t you?” 
“I know I would’ve back then. Still would, given the chance.” Leon immediately said back, under a whisper as his lip twitched. His hand fell from my arm down to his side, taking a step back. “Now go. You’re running out of time.” 
Knowing that Leon did what was right, under what we were taught to be–right–but his heart was in the midst of running away with the woman he loved. I could understand that. I would be lying if I said that it didn’t cross my mind a time or two on the way down here. It would be easy to scoop up Aurora and run far away from here, even knowing I only had a few days to survive before having to go back home. As if Leon and father wouldn’t have found me before then anyway.
It would have been worth the trouble that I’d be in if it meant that I got to stay with her longer, though. 
My mind was racing, thoughts running in and out of my mind while I approached the building. Each step up the stairs was like a hole being dug deeper into my grave, yet I was the one who kept digging. Suddenly the thought of running away didn't sound that bad afterall, knowing that I could get a head start before Leon would notice. 
I couldn’t, though, really. I knew that, too.
Standing at the door, I looked back to Leon who was standing across the way. I gave him a short nod, to which he returned, then stared at the door ahead of me. There would never be enough time that would’ve satisfied me when saying goodbye to her. If I could make it a lifelong goodbye, I would. I’d stand here until we were both gray in the hair and using walking canes to get to and from places. We would hold hands that shook with age.
With a trembling hand, I knocked on the door and took a step back. The clock was ticking, my anxiety suddenly made me feel like emptying my hollow stomach. My thoughts soon became induced with anxiety as I began to wonder something I hadn’t considered before: what if she’s not here? What if she’s at work, or at school? What if she’s with Nina? What if she’s asleep and won’t wake up in time?
There wasn’t enough time to run around looking for her, I needed her to be home and awake.
I needed her to be here with me. 
I needed my goodbye. 
I needed to tell her–
“Harry?” 
My eyes fluttered, bringing me back from my moment in a sea of scrambled thoughts. It was surreal, my once blurry vision was now coming clear, the silhouette of her became sturdy and visible, more vibrant with color. She was standing there, doe eyed, in her pajamas with a faint smile etched on her lips. 
There she was. 
My Aurora. 
“Aurora…” I choked on my breath, taking a step toward her. 
Before I could take the leisure of making the first move, she did it for me. Aurora jumped into my arms faster than the speed of light, and I nearly melted into her touch. I didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around the low of her back and hold her impossibly close to me. Her scent invaded my nose, one I’d grown to like. It was the lavender vanilla scent with a hint of rose to it that I always complimented her on. 
This was where I needed to be, I couldn’t find myself to let go of her. She felt like home, but a home I felt comfort in for the first time in my two thousand years of life.
“It’s been two weeks!” Aurora croaked, pulling back from me as her hands cupped the back of my head, fingers lost into my chestnut curls. “Where have you been? Are you okay? What happened?” 
Her eyes sparkled just at the sight of me, even with her breathy words and crooked smile, I couldn’t find myself to be happy. I couldn’t find myself to be happy because the next words to come out of my mouth were going to take away the spark in her eyes, the smile on her face and the racing in her chest. 
“We…we need to talk.” I whispered lowly to her, bringing my hands up to cup the underside of her jaw as my eyes met hers. 
“Talk?” She wrapped her dainty fingers around my wrist. “Okay, we can talk. Come inside–” 
“No, I–” I looked back to Leon, which made Aurora gaze behind me as well. “I can’t. I have to be quick.” 
I watched her face fall as she noticed who it was behind me. “Harry? What’s–what’s going on? Why is your brother here?” Aurora rushed out, her hands falling to her side. “Why can’t you come inside?” She raised her hand gently to my arm, lightly motioning for me to follow after her, but I remained unmoved. It felt unnatural to fight against my instinct to go wherever she pulled me. 
But I knew I couldn’t.
I chewed the inside of my cheek, hoping that she would somehow read my mind instead of having to say it out loud. I didn’t want to say it out loud, I shouldn’t have had to. I shouldn’t have to be doing this to begin with. This should’ve never happened. 
I was careful. 
I…was…careful. 
But never was I careful enough, was I?
“I can’t come inside because–” I swallowed the swelling feeling in my throat, blinking the emotions away. “Because they know. My father, I mean, he knows. He found out…” 
Aurora took a step back, her hand falling from my touch, and she blinked hard. “What does that mean? Can’t we–just lay low? We can be more careful, right? I can admit we were being a bit sloppy with Collins, but–”
“No.” I cut her off, shaking my head. I had to take a moment as I inhaled sharply due to the ping of pain that hit my chest so brutally after that. “No, we can’t. I–he took me off the mission, Aurora…I can’t see you again…” 
A scoff with a slight chuckle left her mouth, sending a wave of confusion coursing through my body. “Is this some sort of sick joke?” She sounded upset, but more so confused. She didn’t seem to believe me fully.
Oh did I desperately wish it was a joke, though. I stood there, tears brimming my waterline as my leg started to shake, turning my head to hide my vulnerability while chewing on the inside of my cheek. Aurora’s confused demeanor soon softened when she noticed the tear dropping from my eye and racing down the side of my cheek. 
“No…” Aurora breathed. “No, they can’t take you from me like that–from us…Earth! That’s unfair! Who’s gonna save us from those light guardians? What about the mission?!” 
“Leon…” I croaked, gesturing back towards my brother. “He’s, uh—he’s taking it over. It was my father's choice. I can’t fight it. He doesn’t even know I’m here.” 
“There has to be something we can do, right? There has to be—“ Aurora’s voice crumbled. “We’ve figured a way around everything else. Why not this, too?” 
This was exactly what I was scared of. I hoped that she wouldn’t find herself a mess in front of me, just so I could remember her to be happy. But humans were never that simple, were they? But neither was I. 
“You can’t go…Harry, look at me.” She grabbed my face softly, making me look deeply at her. Tears brimmed her eyes, matching the contrast of mine as her bottom lip quivered. Redness had spread to her cheeks, and I knew it wasn’t due to the cold air this time around.
It was hard for the both of us to hide our emotions, but my hands were shaking and I couldn’t find myself to smile for her. I tried to be strong, but the wave of sadness was stronger. It was taking me under like the waves of the ocean, each gasping breath and fighting urge, it was useless. This was much bigger than me. This was a tsunami, and no amount of swimming was going to bring me back to the surface for safety.
Pressing my forehead against hers, my fingers tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and let out a slow breath. Staring into her eyes was like dipping myself into a pool of honey, her brown eyes intoxicating me and breaking me down all at once. I barely got a breath in before she pressed her mouth hard against mine, finding her hands reaching to the back of my neck. 
My hand placed itself onto her shoulder, my other arm wrapping around her waist as I kissed her back in hopes that she could eat the words I’d never wanted to say. I didn’t care if my brother was behind me, I didn’t care if he was watching. If these were my last moments with Aurora for as long as my light continued to twinkle above, I wanted to make it last—with our final kiss, even if it broke the both of us. 
“Please don’t leave me, Starboy.” Aurora whispered against my wet lips with a choked sob, shaking her head lightly. Her voice continually broke as she fought the words out of her mouth, lip quivering. “You can’t go. What will I do? Who will I talk to every day about anything on my mind? I talk to you about things I could never say aloud to Nina sometimes. You have never once judged me, Harry. Who else will treat me how you treat me?” 
Her words hurt much deeper than they had ever felt before. I squeezed onto her tighter, trying my best to hold onto reminders of what she felt like. It was all I was going to have left.
That thought broke me.
“I can never express my sorry enough, Aurora. I never wanted to hurt you. I am so sorry. So so…sorry.” My head bowed to my shoulders as I worked to steady my voice from breaking, but to no avail. Tears were dropping on the pavement below us. “Please, just listen to me. I don’t have much time, okay?” I kept her close, fighting back the urge to collapse at the overwhelming feeling of sadness. How could humans live like this? With such emotion? It was insufferable. 
I created a small distance between us, holding onto her shoulders as they shook from her tears. It hurt so much more seeing that sadness reverberate from her chest to the tears that fell steadily down her cheeks. I could feel what she felt radiate off of her and it physically hurt my body. Bruises of her sobs punched against every part of my body as I heard them.
I wanted to yell out to the gods about how unfair this was. Was I not worthy of this love? Did I not deserve to have Aurora by my side? 
How else could they do this to me?
“Being with you, in this time, has been the greatest honor, Aurora. More than any title under my father’s kingdom could ever do for me. You’ve made me feel things that I hadn’t felt in some light years. Possibly even ever–” 
“Don’t. Don’t do this.” 
“—And I adore you, with every inch of my being. For as long as I last, I will think about you and hold your memory close to me. I will never forget you, Aurora—my Aurora.” 
She yanked her body from my grasp. “This isn’t goodbye, don’t do this! I refuse this to be a goodbye.” Aurora whimpered, I could feel her shaking from suppressing the same overwhelming feelings I had. “Don’t you dare say goodbye to me, Harry! You can’t, I won’t let you!” 
“What is this, then?” I swallowed thickly, pulling her in close again. I nudged my nose against hers with an unsteady breath, our gasps of air syncing together. I knew what she wanted, but I couldn’t find myself to give it to her. 
If I could, I would. 
I’d give my Aurora anything she wanted. 
“This is…” Her hands were everywhere, cupping my face, fingers drawing down my neck then to the back of my curls. Desperate to touch me, to remember me as much as she could before I left. “See you soon.” 
I wept out. How could three little words cause this much pain in my chest? My fingers interlocked with hers, nodding my head as strings of tears fell down my cheeks. I didn’t know if I fully believed it myself, but a part of me had to cling on to that hope. There was no way everything could align so perfectly to place me right here in this very city, to just be turned away less than a year later. This had to be predestined. 
Harry and Aurora. That was who we were supposed to be. A duo. Together.
“Okay, Aurora.” I sniffled. “See you soon?” 
“Tomorrow?” She shook out with a broken smile and watery eyes. “W-Walk me to class? I’ll get us coffee.” 
I bit back a saddened smile, letting out a breathy chuckle as we mapped out our imaginary plan.“First thing in the morning. Don’t forget breakfast either.” 
We stared at each other for what seemed like eternity with a smile from ear to ear, then Aurora pulled me into another kiss, this time much softer and slower–like time ceased to exist, like it wasn’t ticking way too fast right now. Her lips tasted sweet, just like the end of that cursed word I mentioned earlier. I just wished that the aftermath wasn’t going to leave such a wretched, bitter taste in my mouth. 
“Harry.” It was my brother’s voice behind me this time. There was a softness to it that I hardly recognized, but it still sustained that usual coldness that his commands always had. 
I pulled apart from Aurora, quickly wiping my tears away with a sniffle while turning on my heel. Leon was standing behind us with his arms crossed, to which he slowly showed me the watch on his wrist and tapped it lightly. 
Had it already been ten minutes? 
“No…” Aurora shook her head, pulling herself in front of me. “Leon, please don’t—.” 
“Please don’t get involved in galactic matters, it doesn’t concern you.” Leon brushed off his cuffs softly, fixating his gaze on me in order to avoid Aurora’s. “We must go now.” His full coldness was back, like the softness was never even there.
“Don’t talk to her like that, Leon.” I growled through a huff, keeping my arm around her waist before turning towards her. “Aurora, I must—.” 
“No.” Aurora shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes with a faltering smile. “I’ll see you soon. Remember?” 
A small whimper left my lips, giving her a short nod before placing a delicate kiss onto her forehead, stroking her hair back carefully. It was so painful to see her like this, but I knew that was what we had to do, as much as it killed me to do it.
Maybe all those rom-coms we watched were true all along. To be young and in love was to be blissfully unaware and ignorant of reality. While I was not young, our love felt young. Way too young to have it end this soon. This should have just been the beginning.
But was that what this was–love? I had never said it out loud or even in my head before. From what I learned from the humans’ definition of the word, I think I understood it. This felt like something I had never experienced before. I was sure I had felt variations of it with my own family of beings and the occasional relation I would have with others, but it was still nothing compared to how humans experienced it. It was a lesson I could only ever be taught through experience, and that was exactly what happened as far as I was aware.
“See you soon, my Aurora.” I whispered under my breath, keeping my lips onto her forehead for just a few more moments before pulling from her. The departure of my mouth against her skin tingled sharply, aching for it again like a withdrawal.
I said nothing as Leon took my arm and pulled me down the small steps of her front porch. I dared not to look back, it would only make me want to change my mind. It would only make me act out of impulse, and not necessity, which was this. Leon and father made that abundantly clear with how much was riding on this and how much I screwed everything up.
But then again, I couldn’t help it. I had to see her face one last time, regardless of the emotional consequences. I looked back to see her sitting on her front porch steps with her hands in her face, her shoulders uncontrollably shaking from her sobs. Her face was buried partially into the palms of her hands and for a moment I felt my knees buckle underneath me. She was trying her best not to watch me, too, but she also couldn’t help but peek through her near-shut eyes and fingers.
I was supposed to be there for her. I was supposed to protect her. 
My Aurora was crying and all I could do was run away and watch it happen. 
Letting out a shaky breath, the pads of my fingertips caught the tears that spilled from my eyes as Leon and I continued deeper into the park away from the lights and cars. How jealous I was of the non-living objects that got to exist for as long as they wanted in Aurora’s neighborhood. They had no idea what kind of privilege they had to be so near.
Even when I ended things with Adhara, it did not hurt nearly as bad as the pain I was feeling right then. This pain was all consuming, it even made my hollow stomach twist in pain and my still-beating heart wrack around in my empty rib cage, bruising everything in sight. I felt the pain in my eyes, down to my fingers and to my toes. That was how I knew that this had to be what I thought it was–love. Bittersweet and all.
I’d give anything just to touch her again. 
And again. 
And again. 
Until the end of time. 
“Do you love her?” Leon broke the silence as we continued to walk deeper into the woods, giving me a short glance out of the corner of his eye with his nose in the air. 
There was that word again. Love. 
The word dangled in front of me as I stepped over the twigs and branches of the forest grounds. I hadn’t said that word out loud in forever, only in the privacy of my mind recently. The aching chest in my feeling could confirm it, alongside the ache in my reddened eyes from crying. It was weird to see how everything in me shifted when I was confronted with the thought with someone else. I didn’t realize how different it was to admit it aloud to someone else, especially someone like Leon.
When I spoke about love, I usually spoke about my family in an adoration type of way. I loved my family because I adored them, wanted to protect them, no matter how wrong they had done me, I still held them dear to my heart. Though if you asked me what the first thing that came to my mind when I thought about the word love, I would think about my Aurora now.
“Zeus, I think I fucked up.” I stopped in my tracks, palming my sweating eyes as my throat constricted suddenly. My words were near silent, lodged in my throat like it needed a pick ax to forge out. 
“How so?” Leon stopped ahead of me, turning to look at me with pinched brows. I was even more surprised he heard me.
“Because—.” I whispered out only slightly louder, dusting my forehead with my palm helplessly as I turned back to look at the direction we came. “Because I think I do love her, Leon. I—I love her…” I confirmed to myself, biting my quivering lip as I turned my head to meet eyes with Leon. “I love Aurora.” 
Leon’s solid features softened, parting his lips while he turned his head up to the sky. His features seemed to morph together with a variety of emotions, some of which I didn’t even recognize on his face. He let out a long sigh, letting me know he was still there even though he seemed absent. He seemed almost as lost as I did upon my realization about her.
How could I have not noticed it until now? My hands were always perspiring around Aurora, my heart rate was abnormally faster than it usually was which was a vast contrast to how it was when I was alone. 
It was because I loved Aurora. I fell in love with her in the process of accidentally getting to know her. I didn’t mean to do it, but I did, and there was no going back now.
But what was not to love about her? She knew half of everything I already knew. She had a deep-seeded love for astronomy. I was that astronomy. Her adoration was rooted in my history that I grew up with. She had this love for studying about what I was all of her life. Her mind alone was so beautiful, like a large cozy library with a fireplace tucked in it. I could pluck out conversations with her easily, and talking with her was never hard. We always had something to talk about. Her smile alone melted my heart and her touch always set my skin on fire, yet it would extinguish the burn in the same way.
She didn’t just make me feel love, she was love, in definition. I felt her wrap it around me every time I was around her. She spelled the word across my lips with each kiss, with each touch, and I didn’t realize I was falling into a pit of her until now. 
“You feel that strongly about her?” Leon questioned slowly, like he was deciphering his words as he spoke them.
I nodded my head, bowing it to the ground as I kicked pebbles at my feet. It reminded me of the moon rocks I would do the same thing with at home. Maybe I should have taken some of the Earth rocks with me so I would never forget the difference that these felt like.
“Then…stay.” Leon muttered.  
My head shot up as I did a double take, squinting my brows. “What?” 
“Just–” Leon sighed. “Just stay, okay? Here. I–and this is against everything I stand for, mind you, but…” He took another breath, taking a step towards me while putting his hand on my shoulder. “You can stay on the mission, under my supervision. Father will not know.” 
Instinctively I grabbed his wrist excitedly with wide eyes, pulling him closer to me. 
“Are you–are you serious? Don’t joke with me, Leon. Now’s not the time for one of your pranks–” 
“No, I’m not joking.” Leon said softly, grabbing both of my shoulders as he stared into my eyes with a serious manner. He moved my hands off of him, putting them to my sides to straighten up. “But Harry, I’m only doing this because–because I…wished that I got more time with Mathilde. I loved her just how you love Aurora.” 
My heart was pounding in my chest, and my first reaction was to turn around and run straight to Aurora’s, but before I could even think to pick my feet up, I wrapped Leon into a tight hug without hesitation. I could’ve cried then and there, but Leon wasn’t the emotional type and he hated hugs in general, so I wasn’t going to push my luck anymore than I already had tonight.
Leon chuckled lowly, something I hadn’t heard in a light year before he patted my back and pulled from me. 
“Wait, what about Father? How would we hide this from–” 
“Don’t think about that right now. I’ll make up an excuse for you.” Leon gave me the tiniest smile. “And I have a few ideas of who this informant or spy is, but I need to do some more digging. Just–go be with your love, brother. I’ll see you in a few days and we’ll have a more solid plan then. ” 
I bit my lip, closing my fists in excitement as I turned on my heel and took off running out of the woods. I didn’t think to say goodbye. I would see my brother soon like he said, but my time with Aurora was more precious to me right then. My feet brushed against the scattered leaves and branches on the forest floor, causing them to toss in the air as I picked up the velocity of my pace. 
C’mon human heart, don’t fail me now. At least not yet.
Breathing heavily, I jumped over a log and pushed past the treeline and into the open field. My heart was racing, I still wasn’t used to exerting my human body so heavily. Gravity felt so much different here. I would just note that that was on the bucket list of things I needed to do: go to the gym and run more, which was something that would help my body grow stronger. 
I saw Aurora’s apartment in the distance, and she was still sitting outside of her apartment with her hands still wiping away at her face. Astro had greeted her by her side, resting her sleepy head into her lap, lapping her tongue at one of her hands.
“Aurora!” I yelled loudly with cupped hands over my mouth. “I can’t do it. I can’t leave you yet!” My voice cracked as I slowed down my pace.
Her head slowly lifted, craning her head side to side to look for the person calling her name, until she locked her eyes directly onto me. Astro had even stood up, immediately wagging her tail violently. I chuckled breathlessly, taking a slow step while raising my hand up to wave at her with a crooked smile. She said nothing as she stood to her feet, looking as though she saw a ghost right before her. She had an uneasy expression on her face, like she couldn’t trust me already being back so soon.
And when she knew it was me, at the exact same moment, we both ran towards each other faster than we ever had before. I hadn’t run this fast since I’d seen the light guardian that one day. My lungs were burning, sweat building up on my forehead as I gained speed.
She seemed just as glad as me to have another look at one another, even if she didn’t know if it was a long-term look or not. She didn’t seem to care much at all. One more time was enough, regardless of timeframe.
“Harry!” She called out as winded as me, her legs taking her as fast as she could go. 
Astro ran alongside her, our bodies all soon to collide into each other. Even with the narrowing space between us, our speeds only dimmed slightly. When our bodies bridged the gap, it almost knocked the wind out of me. My arms tightening around her felt so surreal, somehow deeper than the one we had just shared at our last departure. This one wasn’t overshadowed by the ever growing feeling of soon-to-be loneliness that I readied myself for. It wasn’t goodbye anymore. It really was a “see you later.” 
“I’m staying.” I breathed out into her shoulder in desperate relief. “I can’t leave you yet. Leon knew it, too.” I felt tears brim against my eyes again, ready to flow past my cheeks. My nose tingled from the sensation. “I…” My words started to trail off, lumping together and coming out garbled when I tried to finish it first. I had so much more I wanted to say, so why was it so hard? I knew what it was that needed to come out.
Her forehead wrinkles became prominent as she furrowed her brows. I couldn’t help but smile even more at the doe-eyed look she had on her face. Her eyes were shining against the moonlight, and it almost felt like the moon was doing it just for me–for her. The moon wanted me to see her in the best light possible to help me find the words that desperately ached to flow out.
“I…I may not know everything about humans, but I think–” I shook my head, getting flustered at my choice of words. “No–I know…I know that I love you, Aurora. There is no other way to explain this…this feeling that is happening right now to me. It happens a lot actually. I never understood it, but I…I think I know now. It’s love.” 
My eyes had found themselves staring at her feet to avoid her reaction. I was sweating, but it wasn't from running moments ago. I was nervous again, or anxious as Aurora would call it. I rubbed my palms against my pants, still looking at her feet that were adorned with her worn houseshoes. The ones that I tried on because of how comfortable and fluffy they looked, but then soon realized that shoe sizes were a thing and often not shareable.
I mustered up the courage after a couple moments to look back at her. She was avoiding my eyes too, but she had a soft smile on her face. Her bottom lip was even tucked into her teeth, fighting away an even bigger smile. That seemed like a good sign.
When she looked at me, my heart fluttered. I didn’t look away that time, and neither did she. I was too invested in her response, desperate to hear that she felt the same way. There was no way I could feel this strongly and she didn’t feel the same. I refused to believe it.
“I love you, too, Harry.” She wrapped her arms around my waist, the old teardrops that were dried on her cheeks with caked on mascara more obvious than ever as I continued to look deeply at her. 
My hand reached up to her face, brushing a loose strand of hair from her forehead, and then soon my fingers began to trail down softly from her forehead down to her cheek. Her skin felt soft and cared for. I wanted to relish in it further, feel her even more. To remind myself that she was real and she was right here with me.
I then cupped both of my hands around her face as I pulled her in for a kiss. A small gasp left Aurora’s lips out of surprise. Maybe she was surprised I took the initiative, or maybe she was just on high alert like I was from all the emotions we had been through tonight. I didn’t care either way. As long as she was in my arms with her lips against mine, I couldn’t care about anything else. 
She was my mission to keep.
I felt a sudden wetness against my cheeks again as I continued to kiss her softly, and I pulled away out of confusion. Was I crying again? Or was she? Sweating?  Was it raining?
“Aurora?” I whispered out, crooking my head to the side as I saw fresh tears now surface. “Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry…” I took a step back, unsure where I failed. How could I have messed up so soon?
She shook her head frantically, smiling again. Somehow she was smiling while crying. My, how I would never really understand humans. “No–no. I’m just really happy, I promise. C’mere.” She motioned her hands for me to come back closer again, and I followed instinctively. I still felt unsure about the situation, but her smile was hard to ignore. She wouldn’t lie to me, she must have meant it.
She squeezed against me harder into a hug, dampening my shirt from the previous spill of tears and then pulled away from me to look me in the eye. “Are you here for good? Or one more day? How long?” She sounded desperate for answers, scared that she would have to be let down, waiting to be stricken with grief once again.
“I’m not sure how long, but I’m able to stay on the mission. Under Leon. Secretly.” My smile was growing wider by the second as I spoke. Saying it out loud made it feel that much more surreal. Even on Earth I felt like I was floating higher than I had ever floated before. I didn’t even need to be in my star form either.
Without another word, she pulled herself into my chest again. Her breaths were felt through the fabric of my shirt as she breathed them out, and it felt like she was breathing life back into me. Color was being brought back to my cheeks with each second that passed in her arms. I had never felt so human in my life.
I heard the faint rustling of wind blowing through the trees around us mixed in with the sounds of our slowing breaths as we stood there in front of her door, arms wrapped tightly around each other. Neither said anything, we just stood there in a comfortable silence. The chilliness of the air was so much easier to ignore now that Aurora was at the forefront of my mind–she was all that was on my mind. The memories of strands of her hair shining against the sunlight, the scrunching of her nose right before she laughed, and the way she would purse her lips when deep in thought, all those images found itself in every crevice of my brain. She was all I could think about, nothing could distract me from her. She was my everything.
It felt like I had forever with her now, even though I knew that that wasn’t the whole truth. Even though I was back on the mission, it didn’t mean that meant forever still, and I knew that. Father could find out and have me banished in a cell, we could lose the war, and it could be over just like that. But, I now had longer than I thought before we landed, and that was the most important part. It was forever as far as I was concerned now.
“Harry?” Aurora’s soft voice was muffled against my chest, and she broke away to look me in the eye, still so close that I could see every detail in her face. “Can we go inside? It’s cold.” 
She had a smile so innocent on her face that I wanted to kiss it, feel that smile even closer on me. The darkness couldn’t even hide the smallest of dimples right above her top lip.
I nodded my head. “Of course, let’s go.”
She held on to my hand loosely, leading me inside through the door. Astro was still wagging her tail as she raced in after us. I didn’t realize something non-human could seem to miss me as well. And come to think of it, I think I missed that furry creature just as much, too.
“Hi, Astro.” I knelt down gently to pat her on her head and she lept towards me, tongue out and ready to slobber all over me. Aurora would always call that her liquid kisses, but that never sounded appetizing to me. 
I got back up.
“Do you need anything? Water? Tea? Snack?” She was rustling through her cabinets with only the stove light on to illuminate her face. I could see the faint puffiness that still surrounded her eyes from all the crying we had done. A rim of red and pink was slowly fading away, but it still lingered enough to notice it. I wondered what the state of my human body looked like. I had never cried like that before. Maybe I looked just the same as her.
It was an experience I hoped I would never have to go through again. Hopefully I would have time for a better plan next time. I really couldn’t mess anything up. At all. Not even a little.
“No.” I breathlessly laughed. She was probably too out of it to remember that I didn’t actually eat or drink. Or at least, I didn’t need to. “I’m okay right now. Are you tired? It must be late.” I searched around the room looking for any clock in sight. Finally I met my gaze to the glowing digits reading out that it was just past one in the morning.
She saw me glance towards the stove clock and looked herself.
“I’m sorry.” I remarked quietly, rubbing at my arm. I felt bad that I had woken her up just for all of this. “I hope you’re not upset.”
She scoffed, and my eyes widened, unsure why she made that noise. She laughed again. 
“No, Harry. I couldn’t be mad. I was just glad to see you.” Her smile faded and her attention from me was gone as she quieted her voice. “I thought you were gone for good. Dead, maybe.”
I bit at my lip. “I know and I am sorry. It wasn’t my fault–father found out and banned me from coming back. I didn’t leave my room that entire time…I felt…” I took a deep breath as I recalled the horrible time I spent back home. I had never experienced anything like it before. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. “I was lost. Nothing felt…right, I suppose. I felt like I wasn’t home, even though technically I was.”
You are my home, Aurora, is what I wanted to say. It’s always been you I needed.
“Do you feel at home now?” 
I looked at her and nodded my head. “Yeah, I do.”
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a/n: We have some exciting news Starboy readers! @shroombloomm and I want to create a Starboy groupchat! It’ll give readers a firsthand look at sneakpeeks and also just discussions in general (although it doesn’t always have to be Starboy related lol!) If you’re interested in joining, please let Sunny or I know. We’ll be rolling it out likely within the week. Catch us also on Twitter @kwritingbooks and @shroomiebloomm
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kiwi-claire · 2 years
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KIWI | Harry’s Version MASTERLIST
PART ONE: ever since new york
PART TWO: where were you in the morning
PART THREE: only angel
PART FOUR: carolina
PART FIVE: woman
PART SIX: two ghosts
PART SEVEN: sweet creature
PART EIGHT: kiwi
PART NINE: from the dining table
PART TEN: meet me in the hallway
PART ELEVEN: sign of the times
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miszoblin · 1 month
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I did it.
Harry knew that Voldemort is better wizard. But no one told Voldemort that Harry is better swordmaster.
sketch
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maddieisnotreal · 1 year
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m.edwards // quote by sue zhao // as it was - harry styles // i wrote this for you by lain s. thomas // november for beginners by rita dove // “seizure” by louise glück // right where you left me - taylor swift // quote by evelyn waugh // the handmaid's tale by margaret atwood
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vanteguccir · 2 months
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watching you read | harry styles
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Harry Styles x reader
Summary: Where Y/N loves reading the books Harry buys for her, and Harry loves watching her read.
Warning: None.
Author's note: I wrote a version of this scenario for Chris Sturniolo as well, but my biggest inspiration for this was Harry. If you want to read Chris version, it's on my masterlist.
PS.: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Y/N sighed contentedly, making herself comfortable in the armchair she was sitting in the living room of her house, the new book Harry had bought her the day before was open in her hands, her eyes running over the words on the yellowed pages as her head moved slowly to the light beat of the music playing from the record player.
The golden hour sun hit her legs folded against her chest, warming her.
Her attention was so focused on the story that Y/N didn't hear the front door open and close seconds later, much less the sound of keys being hung right next to the entrance and the sound of a bag resting on the floor.
Harry opened a smile when he saw his girlfriend sitting so comfortably in the living room of their house, taking off his Adidas sneakers and placing them against the wall next to the door, walking towards the woman.
Finally, Y/N raised her head in surprise when she felt a presence behind her, looking at Harry and relaxing instantly, closing her eyes when she felt the brunette's lips against her forehead.
"Hello my love, are you enjoying the book?" Harry asked quietly against Y/N's hair, as if he was afraid to speak loudly and burst the bubble they were both in.
"Uhm, the story is super engaging." She responded in the same tone, pushing her head back until she rested it against Harry's chest, which he sighed in appreciation before slowly pulling away.
"I'm going to take a quick shower, do you want some tea?" The singer asked her, taking his cap off his head and beginning his slow walk to the stairs, ready to step into the hot shower.
"Yes, please." Y/N replied with a smile in her voice, turning her eyes back to the book.
A few minutes later, Harry was coming down the stairs again, now wearing only cotton pants and white socks, the smell of soap trailing behind him as he walked towards the kitchen.
His hands, now only wearing the promise ring he shared with his girlfriend, worked on turning on the stove to heat the water while he picked up two small cups with flower designs that Y/N joked that looked like her grandmother's, but secretly loved them.
Harry fetched the tea bags from his favorite brand, distributing them into the two cups, walking to the stove to pick up the kettle that was already whistling, turning off the heat and filling the cups with the right amount, before putting the kettle back in place and picking up the teas carefully, walking slowly to the living room.
Y/N looked up again as she heard Harry approach, seeing her boyfriend place their cups side by side on the coffee table before walking over to Y/N, lifting her into his arms with ease, his muscles momentarily appearing more in his arms, before he sat where Y/N was seconds before and placed her on his lap.
"I still don't know how you can do that." Y/N spoke with an amused expression, looking at Harry's greenish field.
"I train every day so I can treat you like the princess you are." He responded jokingly, making his girlfriend laugh and roll her eyes.
She arranged herself on Harry's thighs, bringing her feet to rest on his knees so that her own thighs were against her chest, the book resting on them and being held upright by one of her hands, while the hand with the painted nails in pink and with the promise ring circled Harry's nape, running her fingers carefully through the hair on there.
Harry raised his left hand so that he held the free side of the book, preventing it from closing, while his right hand rested on her back, drawing small circles in the area. Y/N smiled in gratitude, bringing her face closer to Harry's and planting a lingering kiss on his stubble, enjoying the feeling his small hairs made against her moisturized lips.
"I love you." Harry whispered, enjoying the act of affection.
"I love you more." Y/N responded, pulling away a little just so she could kiss him on the lips lightly, just a touch of lips, exhaling and enjoying the smell of soap and men's shampoo that surrounded him.
The woman backed away a few seconds later, turning her face forward so that she could see the page completely, going back to delve into the story, smiling small when she felt Harry's eyes on her face, analyzing her carefully.
The only sounds filling the room were their light breathing and the melody coming from the record player, which Harry accompanied sometimes, warming Y/N's heart.
This was her home, and she wouldn't trade Harry's arms for anything in the world.
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stylexcherryy · 3 months
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🎀¸.•*pyjama délicat
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¸¸.•*Aquele que a rotina de trabalho muda quando Louis encontra uma camisola rosinha no sofá do seu cliente e inevitavelmente acaba com os seus dedos dentro da sua boquinha bonita! 
.
Harrybottom/ LouisTops
-HarryInter! Harry com bocetinha
-Não há a utilização de preservativos!
-Utilização de kinks durante a oneshot
-Bellybulge;
-Dirtytalk, palavras usadas como: bucetinha, buraquinho, seios, caralho, pau, grelinho e entre outros!
Caso não se sinta completamente satisfeito com os avisos acima, não se force a ler. 
❈-❈-❈
Trabalhar como jornalista havia sido algo realmente grande para Louis, ainda que não fosse nomeado como repórter, a área mais conhecida pelo nome jornalismo, atuava em algo que realmente havia desejado há bastante tempo. Tomlinson costumava produzir conteúdos, tanto para agencias de comunicação assim como para clientes diretos, que por sua vez, costumava entrar em contato com ele via e-mail e onde debatiam sobre o tema que Louis precisaria construir seu trabalho em cima.
Se sentia realmente feliz enquanto trabalha com isso, sente-se quase como um profissional autônomo. Louis não trabalha para qualquer emissora ou algo do tipo diretamente, desde que começou a exercer a área, sempre priorizou trabalhar para clientes diretos, dessa forma conseguia tornar sua rotina mais flexível com seus outros afazeres, apesar da grande demanda.
O moreno sempre teve uma boa vida financeira, seus pais desde tão pequenininho sempre se empenharam bastante para que nunca passassem qualquer dificuldade, ainda que as más línguas digam que o dinheiro da família Tomlinson era sujo. Bom, você poderia tirar suas próprias conclusões; desde que ambos Senhor e Senhora Tomlinson sempre puderam se dar o luxo de caviar, trufas brancas e queijo de alce postas sobre a mesa do café da manhã com uma bela xicara de chá, de onde vinha o dinheiro não era problema. Louis cresceu com tal mentalidade de que não precisaria se preocupar o suficiente com a sua renda mensal pelo seu emprego, e influenciado ainda por papai e mamãe para não trabalhar durante toda ela, já que teriam dinheiro o suficiente para sustentar ao menos suas quatro próximas gerações.
Louis sabe muito bem disso.
No entanto, o filho único Tomlinson nunca se sentiu completamente feliz com a ideia de passar sua juventude, ao menos o fim dela, e toda sua vida adulta desocupado e talvez viajando tanto ao redor do mundo. Não gostava da perspectiva de se sentir inútil. Ainda um tanto aéreo a economia de todo o resto de Londres e visto que o ramo que seguia poderia ser substituído por inteligência artificial brevemente, se sentia completamente feliz fazendo aquilo que gostava.
Afinal, ocupava a maior parte do seu tempo escrevendo e produzindo coisas, além do outro resto de horas que passava se exercitando e passeando com seus cachorros. Obviamente, a ideia de passar todas as horas completas do dia com alguém usufruindo todo aquele dinheiro parecia algo um tanto tentador para o homem de vinte e cinco anos, mas ainda, não tão tentadora quanto gostaria, visto que junto a ele não existe quaisquer par romântico.
Não costumava produzir artigos voltados para marketing, mesmo eliminando boa parte de suas demandas ao recusar isso, ele filtra bastante sobre o que gostaria de trabalhar, apenas o trás pequenos casos criminais para escrever e produzir em forma jornalística, publicando nos pequenos blogs e até em sua maioria, recebendo propostas de grandes emissoras para os escrever e ser publicado em grandes páginas. Algo notoriamente instigante. Ele realmente gosta do que faz, apesar de colocar a culpa das noites mal dormidas nos casos terrivelmente detalhados e catastróficos que recebia, e não em falta de companhia.
Não que o moreno tatuado estivesse dispensando os bichinhos peludos! Por deus, não. No entanto sua caixa de e-mails continuava cheia e o trabalho era algo que ocupava realmente muito tempo.
→Olá, boa noite, Senhor Tomlinson. Li alguns artigos que você escreve à respeito de alguns casos, e gostaria de dizer que estou incrivelmente interessado :)
Tomlinson não deixou de pensar em como o rostinho escrito no fim da mensagem e o 'kitty' escrito no final do e-mail do garoto não passaram despercebidos e soou tão fofo em sua cabeça. Apesar do tempo o ensinar que não deveria o julgar por algo tão bobo, era inevitável pensar como estaria recebendo aquela proposta dessa vez. Deveria ser direto e profissional, no entanto, não mencionou aquilo.
louist.journalcontact @ mail.co.uk
→ Boa noite, Senhor Edward. Gostaria que me fizesse um breve resumo da sua proposta, se não o for incomodo, podemos analisar juntos e então chegar a um acordo.
→Oh, certo. Pode me chamar de Harry, por sinal. Acredito que não trabalhe diretamente com marketing, mesmo que pessoalmente eu não ache que isso se enquadra. Sou um escritor de contos de terror amador, e nessa nova trilogia eu apresentaria casos criminais que soariam como casos comuns, gostaria que me escrevesse algo a respeito desse, para que eu pudesse publicar como um real artigo jornalístico e fazer as pessoas se interessarem pelos contos.  Sei que não trabalha exatamente com isso, mas tenho admirado há bastante tempo a maneira como trabalha com as palavras em seus artigos para o jornalismo e gostaria que produzisse um para mim.
Anexo.doc!
louist.journalcontact @ mail.co.uk
→Eu acho a proposta tentadora, Harry! E tem sorte que eu esteja interessado em me arriscar na escrita jornalística para outros meios também. Aprecio que goste da minha maneira de noticiar as coisas. Irei dar uma olhada no documento.
→Muito obrigada pela oportunidade :D, eu estou disposto a tomar uma xícara de chá em Londres se realmente se interessar pela proposta, tenho um bom investimento e estou realmente focado nisso!! ;)
Louis riu em como o garoto poderia facilmente exigir que eles se encontrassem pessoalmente. Louis sempre preferiu ser mais recluso e realizar suas reuniões de forma virtual. Não nega que estava um tanto animado em se aventurar em outro tipo de escrita e desenvolver algum tipo de parceria com aquele escritor novo no ramo. Seria algo diferente de qualquer forma. O moreno gostou muito da ideia e a maneira em como o garoto estava sendo compreensivo deu um animo encorajador para ele.
Queria que aquilo realmente funcionasse. Alongou a coluna enquanto ainda estava sentado na cadeira, bagunçando o cabelo castanho com as mãos secas e suspirando ao pensar em como aquilo poderia funcionar. Fala sério, o quão irracional o garoto estaria sendo se fosse em alguma cafeteria e talvez planejasse seu assassinato. Isso daria um bom livro... Tomlinson precisa fazer uma pequena anotação sobre como precisa se preocupar mais com o fato de se distrair tão rápido! Piscou os olhinhos azuis distraídos e voltando a responder Styles depois de algum minutos.
louist.journalcontact @ mail.co.uk
→Nunca realizei reuniões pessoalmente, mas aproveitando que está em Londres também, deve ser uma boa oportunidade. Ao menos que esteja planejando meu assassinato, então me avise previamente para despedir dos meus cachorrinhos hahahaha. Quando fica melhor para você!
→Hahaha, talvez seja mais fácil acontecer o contrário. Podemos nos encontrar no Café Monmouth, Seven Dials? É mais movimentado. Podemos ir na sexta durante à tarde, se não for incomodo.  Pode me dizer o que vai vestir? Não quero me dar o luxo de te confundir com algum senhor barbudo de lá.
Louis olhou rapidamente no calendário, lendo que ainda estavam na quarta e concordando baixinho com um murmuro fofo, como se seu cliente pudesse o escutar. Tomlinson sorriu mais uma vez para a tela, com o quão incrivelmente amigável o garoto conseguia ser.
louist.journalcontact @ mail.co.uk
→ Eu tenho uma reputação a zelar, senhor Styles! Soa perfeito para mim, estarei usando uma regata preta, tenho algumas tatuagens no braço, me encontre lá com a sua propostas, e se não for incomodo, a ideia do seu conto!
Harry não deixou de sorrir do outro lado da tela também. Esperava pessoalmente que o colunista fosse talvez ser um pouquinho arrogante com a sua ideia nova, dado que alguns haviam desistido da sua proposta antes mesmo de pensar em Tomlinson. Apertou os olhos verdes, pensando em como seria a sua aparência, já que Louis nunca se deu o trabalho de aparecer nas mídias por mais de seu nome. Regata preta. Tatuagens no braço. Colunista Louis Tomlinson. Cafeteria Monmouth, Seven Dials.
Dali dois dias!!
¸¸.•*
A garota se certificou em fazer uma pequena nota mental sobre as coisinhas que precisava levar em relação a sua proposta para Louis. Levou um pequeno exemplar de sua última obra e continho de terror mais recente, ainda que não estivesse sido notificado como best-seller, era uma ótima história de suspense.
Decidiu que para se encontrar com o jornalista, ele gostaria de se vestir mais formalmente, não queria causar uma péssima impressão! Precisaria se vestir de maneira séria, dispensando as presilhas de lírios para sair e apenas deixando com que os cachos ficassem bem arrumadinhos em um coque, com roupas que cobriam todo o seu corpo e o deixaria aquecido para a tarde gelada na Inglaterra, com uma blusa de trico bege que escondia perfeitamente seu segredinho de possuir seios gordinhos em baixo! Não gostaria de sentir ter a possibilidade de receber olhares tortos de Louis Tomlinson.
O vento friozinho deixava suas bochechas mais coradas que o normal e ele esperava profundamente que pudesse se manter aquecidinho com uma xicara de cappucino no Café. O ambiente estava também um tantinho cheio, mais que o previsto, portanto, Harry se certificou de chegar algum tempo antes para que pudesse pegar uma mesa vazia para os dois e já deixar seus lábios gordinhos com o gostinho amargo da bebida, separando os documentos e em como gostaria que Louis fizesse sua noticia detalhadamente. Sentia os olhos piscarem em agitação junto com o seu peito, animado para aquela oportunidade de promover seus contos e como seria um grande passo na sua carreira de escritor.
Os barulhos de conversa demasiadamente alto irritavam um pouquinho o cacheado, enquanto ele franzia o lábio juntamente com as sobrancelhas, nervoso que talvez não conseguisse encontrar o colunista em meio a tantas pessoas agitadas durante a tarde. Sentiu um leve toque no seu ombro, quando um homem de olhos azuis e os dentinhos bonitinhos o olhava com um sorrisinho charmoso nos lábios. Observou ele torcendo a cabeça para o lado quando começou a falar e sentiu os olhos verdes automaticamente ficando mais brilhantes para o tanto que seus poros escorriam beleza.
—Boa tarde, você é Harry Styles, não é? —o cacheadinho desceu os olhos para a regata preta que grudava um pouquinho em seu peito, as tatuagens nos dois braços delineados e a voz rouquinha. Os cachinhos balançaram no coque, enquanto olhava quietinho para o colunista, ainda um pouquinho surpreso já que definitivamente não era a aparência que esperava ele tendo. Porra, ele parece tão novo e bonito... —Não tenho mais certeza se é Harry. Seria engraçado para uma primeira reunião presencial eu errar a pessoa que deveria conversar.
—Não, não. Eu sou Harry sim. Boa tarde, Tomlinson — sorriu exibindo os dentinhos de coelhos por baixo dos lábios e corando um pouquinho mais as bochechas quando o homem se sentou na sua frente,  ficando por alguns minutos em silencio antes de pedir uma xicara de chá e voltar a olhar para Harry o encarando com os olhos verdes bonitos, logo após ligar seu notebook. Tomlinson consegue citar cada característica do homem bonito na sua frente, e a maneira como ele estava mordendo o lábio inferior vermelho pela bebida quente enquanto era um pouquinho desajeitado com as folhas.
Se talvez não fossem as circunstancias, Louis poderia tão facilmente sair com o garoto cacheado com outras finalidades, faz tempo que não beija. Tomlinson respirou fundo, soltando uma risadinha contida para si mesmo e seus pensamentos que estavam viajando para outro lugar antes mesmo que pudessem trocar cinco minutos de diálogo constante.
—Eu achei que precisaria te procurar, Louis! Como me achou?
—Harry, não é tão dificil não te encontrar quando tem um adesivo grande escrito 'Styles' junto de um coelhinho branco na capa do seu notebook. —Harry arregalou os olhos bonitos, se esquecendo brevemente daquilo e brincando com a ponta dos dedos envergonhada.
—Ei! Eu poderia ser qualquer Styles. Devem existir muitos Styles por toda Londres.
—Foi arriscado, eu sei! Mas era você no fim das contas —piscou um dos olhos na direção dele, soando gentil e charmoso. Harry pensava se em algum momento iria derreter pelo jeitinho que ele era tão gostoso com cada mínima ação que tinha, ou se ele agia assim com todos os seus clientes e não estava tão acostumado com alguém tão bonito o olhando assim intensamente.
—Mhm, certo. — Harry tossiu baixinho, desviando do sorriso ladino que Louis dava para ele da forma mais sútil possível, buscando o exemplar pequeno da sua última obra de terror e separando as ideias em tópicos organizadinhos em um bloco de notas do notebook. —Estava pensando em algo que pudesse te beneficiar no fim das contas também, de um jeitinho profissional. Tenho algumas ideias para o meu conto e se quiser eu posso explicar o enredo dele detalhadinho. —O cacheado sorriu animado sentindo quando o moreno na sua frente desviou o olhar por poucos segundos, agradecendo a garçonete pela xícara de chá, e voltando a ficar completamente concentrado nas palavras escorregando pelos lábios vermelhos e beijáveis.
—Eu estava procurando trabalhar com algo diferente dessa vez, sua proposta chegou em um ótimo momento!
—Isso é incrível! — exibiu as covinhas fundas nas bochechas, quando tomou um grande fole do cappuccino e voltou a falar de maneira agitadinha sobre todas as suas ideias e de como aquilo poderia ser desenvolvido. —A sua notícia não seria exatamente noticiando algo por que vai ser totalmente ficcional, mas, mhm, a personagem basicamente procuraria cometer assassinatos e delitos em busca de se tornar alguma figura dos filmes de terror clássico. Ela tem uma grande fascinação por filmes de terror, faria isso até ser realmente considerada relevante no mundo dos crimes mas não apenas tratada como uma serial killer!!
Louis sorriu mais ainda para como ele conseguia se animar na maneira que falava sobre seu próximo livro publicado.
— Onde posso entrar, Harry?
—Oh, certo. Mhm, você faria as matérias escritas, como em colunas de revistas relatando os assassinatos que a personagem cometeu mas como se não existisse qualquer suspeito ainda. Eu me encanto pela forma que você consegue prender a atenção das pessoas que leem suas notícias, gostaria de saber se aceita essa proposta! –Harry sentia os lábios repuxando e o olhar de Louis passando por cada centímetro do seu rosto enquanto falava, realmente entretido com aquilo tudo.
—Está pedindo para que eu espalhe fake News, Harry Styles? — o moreno de regata riu divertido com a expressão preocupada que tomou o rosto do cacheado por alguns segundos, antes de notar que era alguma brincadeirinha do colunista para se enturmar.
—Não, Loooouis! —riu junto. — Gostaria que desenvolvesse as notícias, podem ser apenas pequenos bloquinhos detalhando as causas das mortes do suposto caso criminal ainda, e então colocar ao lado do seu nome na matéria, dizendo que poderiam ler sobre aquilo no meu livro. Me perdoe se a proposta for arriscada demais, Tomlinson. Eu estive procurando por algum colunista mas é tão difícil achar alguém que realmente aceite algo desse tipo. Seria uma ótima oportunidade de divulgar o meu trabalho com tanta credibilidade igual a sua.
—Você é bom nisso. Em escrever —piscou o olho charmoso mais uma vez. —Eu fico feliz mesmo que goste tanto assim da maneira que eu escrevo, realmente, Harry. Eu gosto da sua ideia, é bem sonhadora para ser sincero mas é particularmente muito boa. Meu trabalho nunca foi minha fonte única de renda então sempre filtrei tanto nos trabalhos que pego, mas acho que quero arriscar com o que você tem em mente.
Sentiu o coração agitar ao que os olhos bonitos do Harry aumentaram em expectativa, entraram em um consenso que Louis antes veria a maneira como deveria escrever e todo o resto mais detalhadamente para então discutirem sobre valores. Harry se sentia completamente realizado e poderia ficar ainda mais alegre com o jeitinho que Tomlinson o olhava com algo beirando o desejo e o brilho no azul dos olhos pequenos e as ruguinhas não escondiam isso.
Mas, oh, isso não é assunto que se debata entre uma reunião de negócios para a carreira de um cliente, nunca mesmo! Harry ainda sentia a perguntinha matutando na sua cabeça se o seu futuro parceiro de projeto seria tão quente conversando com todas as pessoas ou se estava em um momento especial para ele, enquanto flertavam silenciosamente.
Louis agradecia aos céus e aos reinos que não tivesse perdido o jeito de flertar com alguém depois de um longo tempo sem fazer aquilo.
Depois de mais alguns minutos, com os lábios quentinho das bebidas que soltavam fumacinha e as xícaras sem uma gota do docinho, Harry presumiu que já estava no momento de se despedirem e discutir mais sobre isso, em alguma outra oportunidade.
Ele teria a certeza que haveria outra oportunidade. Que fosse pessoalmente também, em algum lugar mais calmo para escreverem sobre aquilo e que pudessem falar menos agitados um com o outro.
—Mhm, acha que podemos marcar algum outro dia para nos encontrarmos e falarmos sobre o projeto, então?
—Sim. —Harry riu com a forma que o homem não relutou ao menos um pouquinho em respondê-lo sobre aquilo. Oh, certo, talvez o desespero pela nova oportunidade deixasse o moreno gostosinho eufórico assim, ou ele estava realmente retribuindo seus olhares.
Styles tentava a todo momento ser o mais discreto possível, mas ele não era o melhor de todos nisso...
—Posso continuar te mandando os e-mails para marcarmos outro dia e falar mais sobre isso, acho que me deu inspiração para escrever mais hoje!
—Me passe seu número, é mais fácil de achar seu contato do que em meio a inúmeros outros e-mails de propostas, Harry. Podemos ir em algum lugar mais calmo e privado da próxima vez. —falou a última parte com um leve tom de malícia que com toda certeza não passou despercebido pelo cacheado, que a certo ponto estava hipnotizado por esse enquanto passava seu número e deixava um beijo no maxilar de Louis coberto pela barba coberta e ralinha.
--Obrigada.
Porra, até o cheiro da sua pele era incrivelmente mais deliciosa de perto.
***
O convite de trabalho disfarçado foi definitivamente mais explícito do que Louis achou que seria. Não dizendo que ele não estava contente com aquilo, ele estava, realmente contente com o convite. Styles havia o chamado para seu próprio apartamento daquela vez, com alguma desculpa que havia desenvolvido ideias novas e seria legal conversarem mais sobre aquilo para iniciar.
Louis estava satisfeito de início com o caminho que aquela nova proposta estava tomando! Iniciou de antemão a introdução das matérias por meio do computador, batendo nas teclas rapidamente enquanto as palavrinhas apareciam na sua cabeça, e ele se agitava com a ansiedade. Escreveu talvez alguns parágrafos de introdução para cada uma das matérias que Harry o detalhou da última vez, sem detalhes pois seria melhor desenvolver eles na presença de Styles.
Ele teria a presença de Styles dali alguns minutos de qualquer forma!
A porta do seu apartamento estava entre-aberta desde que Tomlinson chegou na recepção e o cacheado pediu para que liberasse a entrada do colunista. O ambiente era calminho e agradável, ainda que Louis conseguisse sentir seu coração palpitando forte e os dedos ásperos apertando a pequena bolsa do seu notebook.
Pensou diversas vezes em fazer a barba antes de sair de casa, mesmo que ela estivesse bem ralinha ainda e gostasse da forma como ficava bonito nela. Não fez com medo de Styles achar ele inconveniente e achar que está se encontrando com o cacheado com outras intenções não mais que trabalho! Louis não queria soar rude mesmo que tivesse passado tantos pensamentos envolvendo o outro garoto.
Harry deixou que a água fervesse para preparar duas xícaras de chá. O tempo estava ameno, mas seria reconfortante tomar o líquido docinho com um pouquinho de leite. Verificou se não tinha qualquer peça de roupa no sofá, onde os dois ficariam para desenvolver o artigo. 
Harry morava em seu apartamento sozinho, então tinha tanta liberdade para deixar suas roupas e pijaminhas largados pelo sofá quanto qualquer outra coisa. A última coisa que fez antes que Louis batesse lentamente na porta, foi afofar as almofadas e dar uma última verificada.
Pensou mais uma vez sobre como seria terrível perder sua oportunidade única pela sua condição.
Tomlinson apareceu com suas roupas caras, de alfaiataria provavelmente. Harry se encolheu com a sensação de ter uma casa tão pequenininha e estar usando roupas simples, tão distante da realidade do colunista famoso. Suas bochechas coravam ele sorria pequenininho quando sentia os olhos azuis passando por todo seu corpo delineado nas roupas folgadinhas. O cacheadinho quebrou o silêncio.
–Oi, Louis –sorriu bonitinho. –Mhm, pode já ir se sentando no sofá, fiz chá, vou trazer um pouquinho para nós.
Tomlinson olhou mais uma vez para a sua cintura fininha e bonita pela marcação da blusa, soltando um arzinho pelo nariz e sentindo o coração palpitar com os pensamentos sobre ter o corpo branquinho no seu colo ou qualquer outro cenário no meio daquela sala espaçosa.
–Suas ideias já estão nas folhas em cima da mesa de centro?– o moreno perguntou com a bolsa onde protegia o notebook em baixo do braço marcado pelas veias salientes. Quando se sentou confortavelmente no sofá e iniciava os arquivos para conversarem direitinho sobre aquilo.
O tempo passou mais rapidinho do que os dois esperavam inconscientemente. As duas xícaras de chá já estavam vazias exatamente 40 minutos depois, com Louis pessoalmente entusiasmado com a ideia diferente do escritor, sorrindo com uma risadinha presa quando o cacheado se animava um tanto e fazia muitos gestos explicando sua história. Harry sentia as bochechas corando cada segundo mais com as encarnadas do mais Velho em sua direção. Esperava estar escondendo muito bem.
–Oh, certo. Acho que seria importante pontuar em como a personagem estava completamente alheia a situação. Antes da situação começar. Podemos colocar a personagem fazendo qualquer coisinha, como fervendo a água, vou fazer mais uma cápsula de chá e então podemos desenvolver isso.
–Eu gosto da ideia da inocência que vai ser retratada, parece clichê mas vai surpreender ao decorrer da notícia. –Louis concordou com as bochechas vermelhas das risadas anteriores e as ruguinhas nos olhos pela mente do enrolado. –Acho que vamos terminar suas notícias comigo fissurado pelo seu livro. Essa divulgação vai ser incrível.
Harry enrolou a ponta da blusa nos dedinhos finos, honrado do pelo elogio do colunista. Sua cabeça foi para outra coisinha quando finalmente voltou a reparar o mais velho minunciosamente. Estava distraídinho com seu projeto mas agora, o olhando pela ponta do carpete, o jeitinho que ele estava sentado, com a postura relaxada, notando que ele esteve o olhando com as mãos em cima da coxa e o sorrisinho de canto pelo tempo todo. Porra, ele parecia tão gostoso assim. A calça social marcava perfeitamente o volume das suas coxas e as tatuagens diversas nos dedos fazia ele pensar como se pareceriam enfiadinhos na sua boca.
–Certo, estou indo fazer mais chá. Mais uma xícara?
–Sim, por favor.
Tomlinson conseguiu finalmente soltar a respiração pesada que esteve prendendo por tanto tempo. Desviando o olhar rapidamente quando o garoto apareceu na sua frente andando em direção à cozinha, e apertando os olhos azuis. Olhou o horário no relógio de pulso quando abriu os olhos novamente.
–Açúcar? –Harry gritou da cozinha.
–Não, obrigado, Haz. Sem, por favor. –Levantou para esticar as pernas e desprender um pouco a calça marcada no seu pau. Olharia na direção de Harry o menos possível, pelos próximos minutos, apenas olhando para a tela do computador! Faria esse esforcinho. –Não acredito que toma chá com açúcar!
Riu baixinho com a provocação para o branquinho, enquanto ajeitava as almofadas no intuito de distrair a mente. Torceu os olhos quando viu o pedaço de um pano rosa em baixo de uma delas, curioso, puxando a pontinha do tecido de seda e gemendo desacreditado pela peça delicadinha e feminina no tom rosa bebê que tinha na mão. Porra, Harry disse que morava sozinho. Aquilo devia com certeza ser de alguma garota que havia levado para seu sofá, talvez.
–Que ofensa, Lou! Eu nunca colocaria açúcar no meu chá. –levava os dois pratinhos com as xícaras vermelhas em cima em passos delicados, com medo de que derrubasse. Até os colocar em cima da mesa de centro.
–Harry, tem que ter mais cuidado onde deixa as roupas das garotas que trás aqui. –aprontou despretensiosamente para o tecido rosado com as rendas branquinhas e tão bonito na ponta do sofá, totalmente descoberto. Acompanhando as bochechas de Styles ficarem em um tom quase vinho e os seus olhos encherem de lágrimas.
–Senhor, que vergonha –tampou os olhos com as palmas das mãos delicadas, sentindo a timidez sair dos poros do seu corpo. Fazia um biquinho de chateação que prontamente foi descoberto quando Louis tirou suas duas mãos do rosto, para o ver direitinho.
–Está chorando? Harry, é só uma camisola. A guarde para devolver para a garota.
–Não, Louis, é minha!
O cacheado tem certeza que o silêncio que prosseguiu na sala demorou muito menos do que parecia do seu ponto de vista, mais envergonhado que antes pela situação e pronto para que Louis o fizesse uma cara de nojo assim que estivesse indo embora do projeto.
–Porra, é tua? –os olhos azuis brilhavam, quando as veias salientes pareceram ainda mais sobressaltavas nos seus braços e suas mãos, os punhos serrados. –Senta aqui do meu lado.
–Não preciso repetir, Tomlinson. Vou guardar e podemos tomar o chá para finalizar a notícia, certo?
–Não. –respondeu o escritor firmemente, admirando seu ainda biquinho e preocupado suficiente com o choro baixinho do outro para que pensamentos perversos surgissem. Olhou o jeitinho que as pernas grossas se espalharam no sofá por baixo do shortinho de tecido fino do garoto, engolindo a saliva quando pensava sobre o quão bonito e delicioso ele ficaria por baixo da camisola, com os biquinhos dos peitos tão aparentes e babadinhos depois que deixasse Louis o machucar e chupar por cima da seda.
Harry sentou pertinho do colunista famoso ainda um pouquinho recluso, obedecendo tudinho que ele pedia sem pensar duas vezes.
–Coloca a perna na minha coxa, Harry. Olha para mim.
Harry sentiu as bochechas quase caírem do seu rosto de tão envergonhado que se tornava a cada segundo, com as camisola em cima da outra perna do colunista, que por sua vez, tinha o colo completamente ocupado com a coxa grossa de Styles em seu shortinho largo e fininho!
–Por que está chorando? –Louis perguntou delicadozinho para o mais novo. Passava a pontinha dos dedos por toda sua coxa arrepiada, tão perto da barra do tecido moletom branco, como se estivesse apenas brincando com ele a este ponto.
–Está brincando? Isso é tão idiota! Estamos aqui a trabalho, não pode pegar uma peça minha íntima e fingir que está tudo bem! –fez um biquinho com os lábios ainda restando o aroma quente do chá. –Ainda é um pijama! Feminino! O quão ridículo isso soa, Louis?
–Não entendo ainda o que importa se é uma peça feminina.
–Esse é o problema, Louis! Eu sou um garoto, deveria usar coisas de garoto.
Louis lambeu os lábios antes que tomasse fôlego para falar novamente. As pontinhas dos dedos cada vez mais perto do quadril branquinho, empurrando a barra do short suavemente e fazendo um carinho que deixava os mamilos marronzinhos do outro arrepiados na camiseta, ainda que os montinhos dos seios estivessem quase escondidinhos do garoto.
–Ainda ficaria gostosinha de pijama. – sorriu de ladinho, mostrando os dentes branquinhos quando dava o sorriso mais cafajeste que pudesse ter lançado para o escritor.
Tomlinson parecia estar regulando tanto a respiração aquele ponto. Com a mão livre do toque na pele do cacheado, ajeitou o caralho que começava a endurecer por baixo da calça social, com um pequeno apertozinho em uma tentativa boba de conter o tesão que sentia. Harry sentiu o olhar baixo ser automaticamente atraído para o colo de Louis, observando com os olhinhos brilhantes e ainda molhadinho a a grossura rígida em volta da palma da mão tatuada, arrepiando novamente toda a sua pele e arrancando mais uma risadinha zombeteira de Louis pelo quão ela parecia sensível.
–Não precisa dizer isso. Por favor. Você não sabe como eu sou.
–Não entendo onde está querendo chegar, querido.
–Louis eu sou um garoto, mas nasci com as partezinhas de uma mulher, o quão ridículo isso soa?
–Você...
–Pode se sentir livre de parar nosso projeto por aqui se quiser, por favor, não quero olhares feinhos na minha direção. Não era para ter descoberto isso.
–Está dizendo que tem...? –Louis perguntou mais uma vez, ainda fissurado o suficiente e esperando que Harry dissesse em voz alta para sanar sua dúvida sobre o que estava realmente pensando.
–Quer me fazer sentir pior? Poxa, eu tenho seios e uma florzinha. é tão humilhante.
Harry dizia tudo aquilo com um pesar tão grande no inicio de uma chateação que não notava os olhos azuis de Tomlinson brilhando em sua direção e como se tornava a cada segundo que passava mais marcado na calça social grossa.
–Por que eu te acharia ridículo? Não.
–Fala sério, não precisa mentir... –apertou a pontinha dos dedos, pronto para se levantar e esconder-se no quarto até que o colunista já estivesse fora de casa, para chorar pelo restante da semana.
–Acha que eu estou mentindo, Hazz? –apertou a coxa do garoto enquanto falava, com firmeza entre os dedos e olhando mais uma vez para seu colo, ao que indicava para o outro olhar também e reparar em como seu pau parecia tão marcado no tecido. –Eu 'tô duro pra caralho para você, não 'tá vendo?
Harry saiu da sua bolha de chateação, ainda um pouquinho surpreso pela reação inesperada do mais  velho quando concordou com a cabeça devagarinho, ainda hipnotizado o suficiente para não conseguir dizer mais nadinha e apertar sua própria palma da mão em cima da de Louis, como uma breve indicação para que ele fosse mais firme com o carinho em sua perna nua. O choro baixinho foi contido pelo restante do tempo, quando Styles adquiriu os olhos verdes brilhantes ainda olhando para o colo do moreno e a boquinha entre-aberta.
–Realmente por mim? –apertou a sua mão em cima da palma aberta de Tomlinson em sua coxa, pedindo para que ele o apertasse mais em ao menos perceber este ato. Recebeu um aceno confiante de Louis em resposta, observando com tanta atenção o busto da cacheada e notando por fim o volume marcadinho dos seus seios, se perguntando como não havia os visto, mesmo que ainda tão escondidinhos.
–Porra. Não acha melhor parar por aqui?
Styles mordeu a boca molhadinha mais uma vez, com os olhos amendoados olhando como uma cadelinha pedindo por qualquer coisa para o mais velho e negando sutilmente com um movimento delicadinho.
Quando por fim grudou seus lábios nos de Louis, soltando um suspiro tão baixinho de fino que mais se pareceu com um gemido, beijando ele devagarinho e  com a língua quentinha entrando dentro da boca do colunista famoso.
–O-oh, mhmm – acenou a cabeça em concordância com os olhos fechadinhos quando Louis puxou sua mão para cima do cacete completamente duro, apertando a palma quente em seu próprio comprimento e fazendo com que Harry segurasse nele tão firme a ponto de sentir a glande pulsando nos seus dedinhos. Louis riu baixinho com o quão Harry estava todo entregue tão facilmente e com os diversos cenários na sua cabeça sobre como poderia colocar o corpinho magro de quarto de apoio na mesa de centro e comer sua florzinha até estar transbordando de porra.
Voltou a grudar suas bocas, o beijo se parecendo um pouquinho mais desesperado dessa vez do que jamais esteve, completamente entregue ao moreno tatuado e o punhetando com delicadeza ao que sentia sua outra mão fazendo carinho na barba rala do queixo ossudo. Soltou mais um ofego alto, quando sentiu as pontas dos dedos frios de Tomlinson chegando pertinho do lábio da sua buceta gordinha já por baixo do short, sentindo as pernas longas se contorcerem com o quão impaciente estava parecendo para ele.
–Porra. –Louis suspirou fundo com a mão delicadinha ainda  acariciando a pele macia do cacheadinho, olhando para Styles com os olhos semi cerrados e um sorrisinho de canto. Puxou o lábio gordinho inferior na ponta dos dentes, afastando o rosto quando ele fez movimento de voltar ao beijo lentinho. –Você é todo desesperadinho, não é? Parece que nunca ninguém comeu sua bucetinha direito.
Harry apertou a boquinha com os olhos arregalados, como se estivesse sido descoberta com tanta facilidade assim, acompanhando quando o caralho grosso de Louis pulsou mais forte na sua mão, soltando a pré-porra com tanta força pela calça.
Louis grunhiu quando entendeu o olhar envergonhado do escritor, sentindo o coração acelerar e tão ansioso para que conseguisse comer ele pelo resto do dia todo.
–Ninguém te comeu, amor. Vai ser todo apertadinho para mim, não vai? Vai ficar deitadinho com as mãos para trás e rebolar no meu caralho igual uma putinha desesperada. –Tomlinson riu na boquinha dele quando voltou a grudar os lábios com desespero, tocando ainda com delicadeza a sua pele nua da xotinha por baixo do shortinho fino. A sua outra mão segurando firme o quadril de Harry no sofá, para que sentisse ter total controle do corpo, enquanto o polegar macio chegava cada momento mais perto do centro molhadinho e o quentinho do seu grelinho.
Com a sua boca gemendo baixinho contra sua língua, se tornava todinho maleável.
–Mhmm, s-sim –Harry apertava com mais força os olhos verdinhos fechados, empurrando o quadril contra a mão de Louis e implorando para que ele fizesse qualquer outra coisa além de só acariciar os lábios da sua florzinha, pedindo de forma quietinha que ele enfiasse as pontinhas dos dedos em seus lábios pequenos e o tocasse tão cuidadosamente assim no grelinho.
Harry sentia que a cada momento que passava se tornava mais desesperadinho por qualquer outro contato mais firme com Louis. Não se importava realmente com o que ele quisesse fazer consigo, desde que tivesse alguma coisinha para se lembrar pelas próximas noites enquanto se tocasse e enfiasse os dedos longos bem fundo no seu buraquinho por baixo do pijama.
Como se seus pensamentos tivessem sido sussurros para Louis, o outro abriu os olhos enquanto sentia os gemidinhos na sua boca e suas línguas se enrolando, para chupar o músculo molhado do mais novinho e separar os lábios com um fio de saliva novamente.
–O pijama, mhm? –sentiu o corpinho saltar na sua mão quando o indicador encontrou a poça de lubrificação que ele soltava em baixo do shortinho, espalhando o liquido ralinho por todo grelinho gordo dela. – Coloca o pijaminha para mim!
Deixou de tocar o cacheado por completo, esticando os braços e colocando apoiado no encosto do sofá, ainda com o quadril jogado para cima e as pernas completamente abertas na postura relaxada, esperando que Harry se levantasse para colocar a peça bonitinha. Harry se esquecia por algum tempo como estava apreensiva que Louis descobrisse isso, agora, com os olhares de Tomlinson, se sentia tão desejada a ponto de não pensar em qualquer outra coisa que não fosse fazer coisinhas obscenas com o colunista.
–Sim, sim –Styles respondeu apressadinho, pegando o tecido rosinha e macio em cima da perna de Louis ainda, deixando de o tocar por completo e afastando as coisinhas de cima da mesa de centro para o canto, se sentia sufocado com elas tão pertinho. Fez como se estivesse se retirando para se vestir como o outro havia pedido, quando sentiu ser impedido.
–Não, não, pode se vestir aqui na minha frente? Tira a roupinha e coloca a camisola pra' mim. –Apertou o pau grosso por cima da calça ainda vestida, desabotoando os primeiros botões e descendo o zíper para que deixasse apenas a boxer aparecendo com a roupa ainda vestida, seu cinto grosso de couro parando em qualquer canto do sofá que realmente não se importou. As veias protuberantes ainda mais marcadas do que antes, deixando Harry doidinho para que pudesse fazer alguma coisa.
Levou um sustinho quando sentiu a saliva caindo do cantinho da sua boca e concordou com um múrmuro animado para se vestir para Louis. Ainda com os olhos verdes grudados na mão tatuada acariciando o próprio pau. Tirava a blusa larguinha, sentindo a pele arrepiar ainda mais com os mamilos expostos no ar geladinho da sala, completamente vermelhos dos beliscões que causou em si mesmo em um momento de excitação de manhãzinha. Os seios pequenos aparentava ser completamente gostosinhos em um tamanho médio, balançando em seu busto quando retirou a peça com pressa, sem qualquer sutiã por baixo.
Louis ainda pensa sobre como deixou passar despercebido.
Prendeu os dedos na barra do short, lambendo os lábios enquanto via Louis tirando a cabecinha do pau para fora da boxer, ainda o mantendo preso, para grunhir com o maxilar ossudo apertado e massagear a glande gorda.
Foi mais rápido do que estava pensando em ser naquele momento, excitada para vestir o pijama e se sentar do ladinho de Louis novamente. Ansioso para a próxima parte.
Suas coxas grandes se contorceram quando tirou o short, apertando a buceta no meio delas, ainda um pouquinho envergonhada, se apressando para se vestir rapidinho e não notando quando o tecido rosa se tornava transparente quando não vestia qualquer outra coisa por baixo. Chegou pertinho de Louis novamente, jogando as roupas no chão e se sentando com as pernas apertadinhas do seu lado.
–Você consegue ficar toda molhadinha, sabia? Olha isso. – pousou sua palma da mão na coxa de Harry quando ele se sentou do seu lado mais uma vez, apesar de ter feito isso por cima do tecido rosa agora. A mão deslizando tão perto da sua virilha e embalando a bucetinha com o tecido roçando em toda ela sensível, enquanto não deixava de olhar para ela, e a fazer soltar um suspiro leve quando a seda se tornava ensopada com um simples toque na sua florzinha.
Abriu a boca gemendo escandaloso pela forma que Louis o chamou ali. Harry gostava dos pronomes femininos. Louis sorriu satisfeito.
–Gosta que eu chame assim? Gosta que eu chame você como uma garota? Vai gostar quando eu disser que vou comer toda a sua bucetinha? Que você fica tão linda nesse pijaminha que não penso em outra coisinha que não seja estar te fodendo todinha até estar ardida?
Harry concordou mais desesperada do que antes, balançando os cachinhos.
Styles jogou um pouquinho mais do quadril para cima, pedindo não todo silencioso para que Louis o chupasse mais firmemente e não fosse tão delicado assim com o seu corpo. Gostava dos toquezinhos delicados dele por cima do pijama, mas já se tornava uma garotinha impaciente com ele tão gentil assim.
–Mais, por favor por favor –formou um biquinho apelativo para ele. Sentiu quando perdeu completamente os toques pela primeira vez, os olhos completamente atentos sobre os seus próximos movimentos, satisfeito em ver Louis chupando seu próprios dedos para colocar em baixo da roupa e os deslizar de cima para baixo em toda sua umidade, ficando vergonhosamente mais molhadinha e escandalosa.
–Vem no meu colo. Senta aqui. –soltou um estalo depois de algum tempinho de provocação, dando tapinhas em seu colo, por cima da boxer descoberta da calça. E sorrindo contente quando o mais novo obedeceu com tanta rapidez ao que ele pediu, como se fosse completamente submisso e vulnerável. Completamente como um bonequinho de Tomlinson.
Suas coxas enrolaram em volta do quadril sentado de Louis, com as duas mãos do mais velho apertadas em sua cintura fina e o os olhos na mesma altura que os seus, completamente posicionado com a bocetinha gordinha em cima do comprimento grosso e pulsante de Tomlinson por cima da boxer fina.
–Vai me deixar enfiar os dedos dentro da sua bucetinha? –Harry concordou sem pensar duas vezes, com a camisola vergonhosamente molhada e as duas mãos apoiadas no peitoral firme de Louis, pulsando o buraquinho desesperada por qualquer toquezinho. Os dentinhos de coelhos aparentes quando sorria contente como um fodido carente. Tomlinson mostrou os dedos para o cacheado, induzindo que ele os colocasse na boca e chupasse também, o membro pulsando por mais tempo quando apertava suas pernas delineadas e via o enrolado se deliciando em sentir o gostinho da sua própria xoxotinha misturada com o da saliva de Louis. 
Com os dois dedos da mão completamente ensopados, Louis desceu com eles pelo corpo branquinho e se retorcendo em cima do seu colo desesperado por algum toquezinho em direção abaixo do seu pijaminha mais uma vez, com a mão seca apertando sua barriga branquinha e os dois dedos longos indo em direção ao buraquinho desesperado mais uma vez, ansiosa que Tomlinson enfiasse ao menos a pontinha dos dedos em sua grutinha e o dedasse gostosinho.
–Abre os olhinhos para mim, Hazz. Me olha enquanto eu te dedo. –Harry concordou com um murmuro para o colunista, rebolando devagarinho no seu caralho marcado, antes que tivesse o quadril levantado e as pontinhas dos dedos de Tomlinson acariciando sua entradinha como uma breve provocação.
–Não precisa ser delicadinho, L-Lou. –Suspirou fundo com o primeiro dedo entrando tão facilmente na sua xoxotinha gulosa. Sorriu sapeca quando sentiu pingar lubrificação na palma da mão do moreno que a dedava com apenas um dedo ainda, em meio aos suspiros e gemidos fininhos.. –Eu aguento muito mais, mhm. Faz rapidinho.
–Porra. Você é desesperada pra' cacete. – enfiou o indicador com força, enquanto olhava firmemente nos olhos de Harry que se fecharam por um breve segundo. –Abre o olho. Presta atenção. Quero que fique com a palma da mão em cima da sua barriga, bem pertinho do seu grelinho. Quero que você sinta quando eu te comer tão forte que vai acertar sua mão.
–Por favor, faz logo. –empurrou a o quadril na direção do único dedo que ainda estava enfiado dentro de si, e completamente paradinho, na intenção de se foder um pouquinho mais forte até que Louis começasse o tratar realmente com brutalidade. –P-porra. –arregalou os olhos verdes quando sentiu o dedo de Louis entrar juntamente com o segundo em uma das suas reboladas e sentir ambos acertando tão bem no seu pontinho de prazer em um momento de desespero da mais novinha quando Louis os curvou. –Eu. O-oh. –respirou fundo quando voltou a sentar rapidinho nos dedos de Tomlinson, esperando a sensação gostosinha de novo. –O-oque foi isso, Lou?
–Nunca tinha apertado seu pontinho, amor? –Harry negou com a cabeça, envergonhado com a resposta que deu a Louis, mas soltando um gemido longo e fininho logo depois que o moreno voltou a o dedar com força em direção ao seu pontinho, incansavelmente. –Nunca tinha rebolado um pau de borracha pra sentir o seu pontinho ardendo e querendo mais? Ninguém nunca quis te comer toda sensívelzinha assim? –continuou fazendo mais perguntas sem pausa, na intenção de ver a forma como Harry se embaralhava completamente nas respostas e nunca era possível formar algo coerente com o buraquinho implorando por mais o fodendo e empurrando tão fundo. –Você é a porra de uma virgenzinha mesmo.
Com a palma da mão posicionada pertinho do pé da barriga, Harry conseguia sentir um pequeno volume aparecendo e batendo na sua pele, revirando os olhos e ronronando como um gatinho.
–Consegue sentir esse volume no pé da sua barriga, Harry? Não faz ideia de como vai ser forte quando comer toda a sua bucetinha finalmente.
O moreno continuava enfiando os dois dedos dentro, a dedando com força e tão deliciosamente que Harry achava ser capaz de derreter com mais algumas apertadas no seu pontinho de prazer. 
Louis, com a mão livre do corpo magrinho, deixou para tirar o membro de baixo da cueca, enquanto observava com a boca salivando o jeitinho que os peitinhos gostosinhos pulavam roçando no pijama. Olhou fundo nos olhos verdes que lacrimejavam um pouquinho dramáticos, quando aproximou os lábios fininhos da sua aréola marronzinha e puxou o biquinho do peito em uma das dedadas fundas.  
Com a mão ainda comendo o buraquinho apertado com os dedos, levava Harry um pouquinho para cima o posicionando em cima do seu cacete logo depois. Styles fez um biquinho gemendo baixinho quando os dedos de Louis saíram de dentro de si para sentir o comprimento grosso se esfregando entre as bochechas da sua bunda branquinha e deixando os lábios da sua bocetinha tão abertos que abrigavam o membro grosso de Louis. Recebendo pequenos espasmos com o jeitinho que seu clitóris  esfregava no membro duro em alguma das suas reboladas. . As veias saltadas da grossura pulsavam pertinho do seu cuzinho, sendo o suficiente para deixar o cacheado tremendo com a pequena estimulação.
Tomlinson não precisou pedir qualquer coisinha para que o Harry estivesse o obedecendo completamente mudo. Como se estivesse cavalgando com alguma coisinha dentro dele, esfregava deliciosamente para frente e para trás, arregalando os olhos verdes toda vez que Louis movimentava o polegar em pequenos círculos em volta do seu clitóris, se sentindo a beira do prazer a todo segundo.
–Vai ser apertadinha para mim quando te foder?
O cacheado sentiu os lábios abrindo em um último gemido mudo quando esporrou completamente sensível, manchando o tecido rosinha e respingando e espirrando por todo cacete grosso de Louis, sorrindo com o gemido alto que Louis soltou pela surpresinha. Balançou a cabeça em concordância algum tempinho depois, como um delay. Completamente sensível e sentindo a sensação gostosinha dominar seu corpo. Louis, acompanhando seu sorriso quando as reboladas se tornavam mais desesperadas e molhadas novamente, depois de pouquinhos segundos se recompondo, quando seu buraquinho ainda continuava guloso e fez questão de sugar o pau de Louis em uma das suas esfregadas desesperadas em seu colo.
–P-porra, Lou. Oh–torceu as sobrancelhas grossas. –Mhm, sim. Por, por favor.
Louis apertou as sobrancelhas, imitando o ato do escritor, grunhindo satisfeito quando teve um contato mais profundo. Sorriu contente com a expressão de dor que Harry apresentava, ainda que estivesse rebolando em cima das suas bolas devagarinho e desesperado por mais, fazendo com que a dorzinha se tornasse completamente alheia. A bucetinha completamente molhada e apertando minunciosamente sua glande gorda era extasiante.
–Me diz o que quer.
–Me come. –olhou para ele com os olhos brilhantes das novas lágrimas que apareceram.
–O que? Comer o que, Styles?
–Come a minha bucetinha, por favor. –suspirou sôfrego. –Até estar estourando ela, por f-favor.
Tomlinson o olhou de cima a baixo, sentindo o cacete pulsar dentro do buraquinho apertado do garoto, que fazia questão de comprimir a cada segundo, suspirando brutalmente.
–Levanta. Coloca a bochecha de apoio na mesa de centro, vou te comer de quarto. Não vai aguentar mais nem um pouquinho, não é? Vai estar espirrando no meu colo todinha se continuar aqui por mais tempo. –Harry o olhava ainda em cima do seu colo, com uma expressão espantada como se estivesse se perguntando o quão bruto Louis seria a partir dali, pensando onde ficarão suas mãozinhas se seu apoio será a bochecha molhadinha.
Styles se levantou para apoiar a bochecha na mesa gelada do centro, levantando a barra da camisolinha ensopada, e empinando o quadril na direção do homem que estava sentado o olhando com ar de superioridade. A florzinha parecendo tão bonita e apetitosa naquele ângulo, exibindo os lábios gordos e como estava pingando para Louis.
Tomlinson não pensou por mais de um segundo antes que estivesse pegando o cinto de couro caro jogado em baixo das almofadas e amarrando os pulsos branquinhos juntos atrás das costas largas de Harry, como um maldito puto.
–A próxima vez. –deu uma pausa no que estava falando, punhetando o membro grosso na própria palma da mão, sentindo o quanto a saliva de Harry ainda escorria por seu caralho pelos dedos ensopados que tinha se tocado antes, apertando a linha da glande em volta dos seus dedos grossinhos e gemendo alto com o contato e a visão dos buraquinhos completamente aparentes de Harry em sua direção. –Que eu estiver te comendo. –Pincelou a bordinha da sua buceta pulsante. –Que eu estiver comendo a sua bocetinha com fome. –enfiava a cabeça gorda do pênis até que estivesse o metendo com força, a sala sendo preenchida com o barulho alto das bolas batendo no quadril do cacheado em uma rápida estocada. –Vou fazer questão de gozar na mesa e fazer você se esfregar, mhm?
Começou a foder o buraquinho guloso, com a mão apoiada em sua lombar e o quadril completamente jogado em sua direção com desespero, delineando cuidadoso as estrias na base de sua coluna que o deixavam tão bonito e delicado. Sorria satisfeito o suficiente em escutar o jeitinho que Harry se engasgava entre suas estocadas acertando diretamente em seu pontinho de prazer, e não conseguia proferir qualquer coisinha coerente com a boca espirrando saliva e sua língua se movendo perto do vidro da mesinha o deixando como uma putinha babada.
Os pulsos se tornavam vermelhos pelo apertão, mas não o suficiente para mostrar que Harry estava tentando ser desobediente e se retirar o aperto gostosinho, pois este estava recebendo completamente o pau de Louis o fodendo com força como se estivesse com sede. As bolas gordas batiam no quadril de Harry enquanto suas mãos repletas de veias marcadas pela excitação marcavam o quadril branco do cacheado, como se ele estivesse se tornando incansável.
–Me aperta pra caralho. Porra, eu amo te comer. –Louis fechou os olhos em prazer, apertando os lábios fininhos e acertando diretamente na próstata de Styles. Gemeu tão alto que dúvida não ter acordado os vizinhos do escritor quando o buraquinho guloso apertou em volta do seu membro, esporrando mais uma vez em sua camisolinha quando gozou e tirando o pau da bucetinha antes que esporrasse dentro dele. Esporrando em todo pijaminha bonito como Harry tem feito, esfregando a porra grossa com a ponta do polegar e o membro ainda completamente ereto mesmo depois do orgasmo.
Harry ainda estava com a coluna arqueada, depois de gozar pela segunda vez em um gemido silencioso, com pouquinhos resquícios da porra escorrendo da xoxotinha avermelhada das estocadas gostosas de Louis. Sentia a humilhação escorrer do seu corpo e pingar como suor com a risadinha de Louis atrás de si, que por sua vez, o olhava completamente embebido no enrolado e ria da forma que ele continuava se empinando para trás pedindo para ser comido mais uma vez. Como se nunca fosse suficiente.
—Porra. Em uma próxima reuniãozinha dessa, prometo te trazer uma camisola transparente e cara pra caralho, só para ver o quão bonita fica em você, Harry.
¸¸.•*
oioi! Espero que tenham gostado, me digam se sim! Amo vocês, mwa! Até a próxima não tão longe ;)) estava com saudades! Muitas mesmo!
614 notes · View notes
alonetimelover · 5 months
Text
pairing: Harry Styles x book writer!reader
fc: Saoirse Ronan
summary: YN just released her debut book, and it became the hot topic online. It might have something to do with certain someone being spotted buying it.
a/n: comments to all those posts are long, because i wanted to somehow incorporate the plot of the book that book writer!reader wrote!
masterlist taglist
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yourinstagram
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liked by fallinloveinbooks, user49 and 89 202 others
yourinstagram Those are the notebooks in which I wrote my little baby. I can't believe I am typing this, but 'Silver Lining' is out !!! You can buy it at all independent London bookstores. I can't wait for your reviews. I'll read them all.
view all 8 201 comments
yourbestfriend MY BEST FRIEND IS AN AUTHOR !!! JANE AUSTEN WHO ???
⤷ yourinstagram do not disrespect the legend here
fallinloveinbooks OMG i've been following you since that one post about understanding fantasy world and being allowed to incorporate real world in it! i can't wait to read it, im going to the store right now!
⤷ yourinstagram YOU. ARE. THE. SWEETEST. and i remember you from that post and all that came after. I LOVE YOU and will wait for your words!
user92 what is the genre of the book?
⤷ yourinstagram it's fantasy! but there are a few subgenres. i'd say romance and mystery play a huge role in this book, too!
user109 will it be available online? im from us and would love to read your book!
⤷ yourinstagram unfortunately, not in a foreseeable future
⤷ user109 oh no, why??
⤷ yourinstagram being completely transparent, i released this book using my own money- no publishing house involved - because no one was really interested in it. what is in the stores is the printing i was able to afford. hopefully, they will sell and i'll be able to print more editions.
⤷ user102 im crossing my fingers for you
hArrysbtch i was looking for some new fantasy books, you are sent from heaven
⤷ yourinstagram hope you like it, angel
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harryupdates
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liked by hArrysbtch, yourbestfriend and 80 393 others
harryupdates HARRY outside of the independent bookstore in London today! EDIT: because all of you are asking, he apparently bought 'Silver Lining' by YN YSN !
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hArrysbtch I've just finished that book and OMG OMG OMG, i don't know what to tell you, but he's getting into something so beautiful so structured so sad, i can't say enough.
⤷ harrysmoustache so it's worth it?
⤷ hArrysbtch YES. YES. YES. absolutely. from the first page to the last, it just consumes you. yn did such a good job, and it's her first book ever!
⤷ harrysmoustache oh, i can't find it online
⤷ hArrysbtch it's only at independent bookstores in London. no publishing house was involved, she printed all the copies available with her own money. i can buy it for you and send it?
⤷ harrysmoustache i DMed you!
stylesbabie harry in his book girl era
harrysmylife he is back and he is reading, he's just like me
user102 there's no way he has that book and i don't
fallinloveinbooks I've read it, and I loved it. I hated it because of how much it made me cry. Harry, you're in for a ride a wild one with all the *wink*wink* scenes and the most heartbreaking chapters of literature I've ever come upon
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yourinstagram
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liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 173 302 others
yourinstagram I cannot express how thankful I am for you and your love for my book. Unfortunately, for now, there are no copies available. But im trying to make it work. But maybe it wasn't meant to be...
view all 10 202 comments
yourbestfriend that's a bestseller book if you ask me
⤷ yourinstagram you are the love of my life
hArrysbtch not you using the last line of the book, like it didn't tear my heart open
hArrysbtch thank god it's already on my bookshelf, happy that it broke my heart and made me horny
⤷ yourinstagram Those were the emotions I wanted people to feel!
harrysmoustache my copy is flying to me, and I can't wait to read it
⤷ yourinstagram ill be waiting for your review!
user102 read, loved, cried and read again
⤷ yourinstagram two times??? i could smother you in kisses
⤷ user102 i wouldn’t mind that
user292 can't explain how unique and original it is
⤷ yourinstagram ❤️
user939 not harry lurking in the likes
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harryupdates
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liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 128 402 others
harryupdates HARRY and writer YN YSN out and about in London today!
view all 6 080 comments
hArrysbtch Alexa play that should be me by Justin Bieber
hArrysbtch she's mine harry, fuck off
hArrysbtch what is it that whenever I find someone to obsess over they become somehow connected to harry
hArrysbtch but, i smell couple material !!!
harrysmoustache he's gonna be the inspiration spark
⤷ hArrysbtch don't even start! i read silver lining with Harry in mind as one of the main characters
⤷ harrysmoustache as Emrys, right?
⤷ hArrysbtch yes! my protective and sexy bookboyfriend
⤷ user102 I see, we support complicated men here, i love it
stylesbabie they look so good together
⤷ user02 their backs are towards the camera...
⤷ stylesbabie shhh
harrysmylife I love her style !!!!
user402 she's getting so much attention from it. how did she manage this pr?
⤷ hArrysbtch pr???
⤷ user402 don't tell me it doesn't look like one?
⤷ hArrysbtch yeah, I forgot. every woman harry is seen with is just pr or the one to hate. of course. tpwk does not include woman harry is involved with?
⤷ harrysmoustache burnt!!!
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bloomsbury
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liked by yourinstagram, yourbestfriend, harrystyles and 40 492 others
bloomsbury Our newest pea in the Bloomsbury pod is the sweetest, London based, young author who has just published her debut novel. We are here to help and tell you that 'Silver Lining' is coming to all bookstores in the world and to online shopping as well on the 15th of November. To feel whole again.
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yourinstagram I LOVE MY NEW POD
yourbestfriend DONT FORGET ABOUT ME WHEN YOU BECOME FAMOUS
⤷ yourinstagram NEVER
harrystyles Congratulations, YN ❤️
⤷ yourinstagram well, thank you, harry
hArrysbtch my favourite author is getting famous!!!
fallinloveinbooks I CANT BELIEVE IT !!! congrats, yn!!
⤷ yourinstagram thank you, sweets!
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fallinloveinbooks
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liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 6 492 others
fallinloveinbooks I'm attending YN's 'meet the writer' thingy in London and I cannot express how much appreciation I have for her. She thought every little detail in 'Silver Lining' through to make the book perfect. An icon!
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hArrysbtch I am here too! And I love her so much!
harrysmoustache you need to either film some moments or just post-stream it for us!
stylesbabie she looks so beautiful
user102 I am here as well! we need to meet up!
⤷ hArrysbtch im in the second row!
⤷ user102 are you the one with a pixie cut?
⤷ hArrysbtch Yes, that's me!
⤷ fallinloveinbooks I think im sitting next to you, hArrysbtch
user42 come on guys, let us now what are the questions and answers!
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dailymail
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liked by hArrysbtch, user102 and 103 393 others
dailymail NEW COUPLE ALERT? Harry Styles and newly established writer YN YSN were seen leaving the same restaurant (Styles a few moments after YSN). YN independently published her debut novel just two months ago and then signed a contract with Bloomsbury publishing house after Harry had been seen buying her book. For more photos and information, visit the link in our bio!
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user102 not you making harry the only reason she got the contract
hArrysbtch she got a contract because of the interest her book sparked online, not harry
harrysmoustache i'll just leave it here but literally Neil Gaiman praised this book online
user402 oh yes, when the privilege is striking
user99 you just cannot stop taking photos of people in their free time, invading their privacy, can you?
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yourinstagram
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liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 201 392 others
yourinstagram Somethin' is cookin'. And that's the audiobook of "Silver Lining" voiced by me! It will be available on 23rd of December as podcast episodes on Spotify for more of you to enjoy! Merry early Christmas!
PS: there may or may not be someone else to accord their voice to Emrys
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yourbestfriend i could be Rhiannon
⤷ yourinstagram you were laughing your ass off after two lines
⤷ yourbestfriend not my fault that Rhiannon is the comedy queen
harrystyles 📖🎤
hArrysbtch NO WAY! i adore your voice and now i'm gonna picture you as Rhiannon - this book just became even better (it already was perfect, i don't how you're doing it"
⤷ yourinstagram hopefully, i won't end up as her
fallinloveinbooks my dream came true. i usually have such a hard time reading that audiobooks are the only option. now i'm going to listen to my favourite chapter over and over again
⤷ yourinstagram which ones are your favourite?
⤷ fallinloveinbooks definitely 6, 15, 24, 33 and 42
⤷ hArrysbtch all the chapters that depicts love - i see you
⤷ fallinloveinbooks yes! the thing is that number 6 refers to love and all those chapter number's are either 6 or add up to 6
hArrysbtch wait wait wait, i've just realised. what if harry is voicing Emrys????
⤷ harrysmoustache don't give me hope
⤷ fallinloveinbooks that would be perfect
⤷ user102 i'm not ready to listen to chapter 24 and 33 with him voicing it
⤷ hArrysbtch i will die, literally. those scenes are intense!
user102 she just wants people to be able to read the book and not care about paying bundle and having shitty quality. i love her.
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harrysupdates
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liked by hArrysbtch, fallinloveinbooks and 109 393 others
harryupdates HARRY and YN at the market in Clonakilty, Ireland!
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hArrysbtch someone tell me is that her home town?
⤷ fallinloveinbooks yes, it is! her parents still live there!
⤷ hArrysbtch meeting parents? oh god, they are serious serious
fallinloveinbooks they live that small town romance book lives
⤷ user102 so true! i need her to write something like this!
⤷ hArrysbtch i would eat it up
stylesbabie Niall is proud right now
harrysmylife i can't express how much i love domestic harry
user20 she started the thunder online after *possibly* announcing that harry will voice Emrys and decided to step away from socials. i love her. i love her. i love her.
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irishharry
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liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 23 403 others
irishharry How thin are the chances to meet Harry in a small Irish town? Very thin. But not thin enough to be impossible. I MET HARRY FREAKING STYLES AND THE LEGEND HERSELF YN YSN !!!
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hArrysbtch they look so cosy... i want what they have
⤷ fallinloveinbooks a man?
⤷ hArrrysbtch yuck, i only like fictional men + harry
harrysmoustache this ken's job is walk
harryupdates this is very aestheticly pleasing photo
stylesbabie small town!harry is my favourite
user102 hopefully the inspiration is overflowing because i'm reading silver lining for the third time
⤷ hArrysbtch are you okay???
⤷ user102 nope. i just love torturing myself
fallinloveinbooks the matching coats...
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yourinstagram
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liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 401 100 others
yourinstagram my love in your heart...
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yourbestfriend answer my calls, yn !!!
⤷ yourinstagram i won't tell you
harrystyles ...my heart in your palm
hArrysbtch I LOVE THE SOFT LAUNCH
hArrysbtch PARENTS
harrysmoustache i love how we all know that this is harry but at the same time it doesn't have to be
⤷ hArrysbtch it better be! this post just cured all my mental problems
fallinloveinbooks the caption... is it the title?
⤷ user102 look at harry's comment, it might be a main thing in her next novel/short story collection
⤷ hArrysbtch the inspiration sparked and inspiration was harry. that's it. when it's published i can die happily
⤷ user102 decide, that or harry voicing Emrys
⤷ hArrybtch im chronically online, don't require any consistency from me
harryupdates vacation in a small irish town birthed some masterpiece, i just know it
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a/n: i have part 2 made in my mind already. do we want more of them?
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rocksalt-and-pie · 2 years
Text
shout-out to the makers of NBC Hannibal for (clearly) reading all four books about Hannibal Lecter by Thomas Harris and going "hmm. actually we will make the gayest possible version of this" going on to COMPLETELY disregard the other main character and (canon) ?love interest? of the series and never even MENTION Clarice Starling. Like it's so funny to me that she never even appears on the show when book!Will Graham literally fucks off after The Red Dragon and wants nothing to do with any of this anymore and book!Hannibal is obsessed with Clarice in the same way that tv!Hannibal is obsessed with tv!Will. like they really took a whole book franchise, picked out the cherries, and made it their own personal little gay AU. that's so refreshing and should be a leading example in television adaptations. in this essay i will
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harrysonlylover · 2 months
Text
Psycho For You*
Summary: In which jealousy runs deep in his blood.
Warnings: MEAN Harry, blood, mentions of violence, filthy rough smut, shower sex, choking, degradation, size kink.
WC: 1.4k
Main Masterlist
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Y/n had good intentions in mind. Not pure or angelic, but the right amount of playfulness. She didn’t anticipate this to happen or meant to do any harm.
She should’ve seen it coming. Should’ve known better than to rile him up, and fuel his jealousy. All she wanted to do was mess with him, and it took a different route.
The blood was dripping on the tiles, but he didn’t wash it off because at the moment he had a lesson to teach.
“You think you’re so clever, huh?” A sadistic smile was painted on his face as he nipped on her skin.
The blood belonged to the man she ‘flirted’ with, he didn’t kill him despite the burning urge he felt. Instead, others at the party had to pull him away before it escalated.
And the sick truth? She liked it.
“Don’t you know that you belong to me?” He grabbed her throat with a tight grip, staining her skin with blood.
The hot water poured on their naked bodies as he rested his forehead against hers, with his cock nestled deep inside her heat.
“I do.” She shivered from the thrill of it all.
“Tsk tsk, looks like your little brain forgot again.” He thrusted inside her, causing her head to tilt backward against the glass wall.
He refused her help once they arrived home, dismissing the need to clean and stitch his hands. That wasn’t what he needed. He craved having her warm walls engulf his cock as he watched her facial expression change for him.
The steam from the hot water covered the glass walls, and Harry had her body supported with his.
“Silly girl, pushed my buttons on purpose and now look what happened.”
The wet sounds caused by his thrusting could not be overpowered by the dripping water. He adored hearing how his cock penetrated her, and he was extra rough this time.
“Whose slut are you? Hmm?” His grip on her jaw would surely cause visible bruises in the morning.
“Yours.” She replied weakly and incoherently because of her smushed cheeks.
“Oh look, the brainless slut can speak. Looks like I’m too easy on you.” He suddenly stopped mid thrust, raking his eyes all over her gorgeous face. A grin slowly made its way before he pulled out and slid in again with a rough force.
He used his hands to bounce her body on his cock quickly. Her screams were music to his ears.
“Bet you liked how I almost killed him for you. You want that, don’t you?” His wet curls covered his forehead while he bit her shoulder.
Her answer was muffled by her moans and whimpers. He lived to hear her beautiful sobs and cries of pleasure. His cock was made to pleasure her always soaked pussy—or should he say his pussy?
“Not gonna answer, eh? No need darling. I felt the clench of your dirty cunt when I asked.” She tugged at his hair knowing how much he adored the pain.
If not for her mushy brain and feelings of euphoria, she would’ve answered him properly. She wasn’t even ashamed of it because he had corrupted her to the core. Fuck yes, she liked it.
She wanted him to protect her and loved the idea of him going crazy for her. Loved the idea of her man, exploiting his physical strength for her.
Her hands held onto his biceps as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. His thrusts were merciless. He hit her G-spot repeatedly and stopped whenever she clenched a lot which was an indication of an orgasm.
He followed it with a wicked laugh and more aggressive kissing. His mouth nipped all over his body, whether it be biting, sucking, or ‘gentle’ kissing. He made sure to leave his marks everywhere. The bruises that will form on her body were the smallest example.
He would soon cum inside her walls, plant his seed deep inside her womb and give her the feeling she begs him for. And over the next few days, soreness will follow.
“Would you look at that?” He chuckled as he glanced down to where his cock pulled out from her warm pussy again. It was coated with their wetness but more specifically her juices.
“Pathetic slut, getting off the fact that I hurt other people for you.” He pulled her hair, causing a stinging sensation in her scalp. He gently tapped on her cheek signaling for her to open her mouth. He spat inside before guiding her lips to his and clashing his tongue with hers.
“Should’ve just spat on you instead from how filthy you are, and you’d like it anyways.” The steam from the hot water caused fog to arise in the small bathroom. She genuinely could not think straight. Everything was too overwhelming and euphoric. She couldn’t resist dropping her gaze to his glorious body where his cock was hanging.
No wonder her pussy felt empty.
She swallowed down her throat at his size, she really wondered how he fit inside her sometimes, but she was immediately reminded of how many tries and lube it took for him to fit in.
After that, he had her stretched properly to his shape and curve because he simply owned her.
“Little bunny, you’re about to drool.” He tsked, raising her chin with his finger. She gave him innocent doe eyes that had him weak in the knees.
“All for a cock?” He laughed, pushing hair strands out of her face.
“Fuck me.” She begged, digging her nails into his tatted skin.
“Should I though? I mean it’s too big for your tight cunt.” He pretended to hesitate, placing his cock from the base near her pussy, allowing it to stand reaching her stomach.
“See? I could probably move your womb if I want to.” He mocked her with every single word he spewed. And of course, she loved it.
She went crazy for how he degraded her and made her feel small. He knew that her exact weakness was their size difference and how he rearranged her insides with how deep he went.
“Please, I need to cum.” She grinded her dripping pussy against his shaft, earning a harsh slap to her her engorged clitoris.
“So fucking needy and whiny for my cock.” He lined up the tip with her entrance and slid in swiftly.
The relief on her face once he entered her was fucking priceless. God, he lived for her pussy and intimacy. She had him hooked.
“Is that how you want me to treat you? Like you’re just a hole?” His hips snapped against hers as her cries filled the small space.
“Well guess what darling? You’re nothing more than that.” He landed a harsh slap to her ass, before bringing his hand to her throat.
“Harder. You own me, Harry.” She managed to speak despite the tight grip.
“I know I fucking do.” He sneered, plowing into her like a madman.
It was on a whole other level of pleasure and craziness. A psychotic lust. He placed all of his godly stamina into claiming her pussy.
Her face scrunched in both pleasure and pain. An expression that he loved.
“Oh good, does that hurt?” He tilted his head to the side, not forgetting to glance at her bouncing breasts.
She nodded weakly at his question, with her nails scratching down his back over previous scars caused by their rough sex.
“As it fucking should. My pretty fuckdoll. What do you say?”
“Tha—Thank you.” She breathed out.
The sound of skin slapping intensified, he was hitting her cervix with every thrust, deeper and deeper. Their fucks were filthier than orgies.
“Now cum on my cock so I could fill this pussy up.” He whispered in her ear and nibbled on her earlobe.
She had been waiting all night for his cue, almost cried even. He teased her continuously for his pleasure and mocked her tightness when he knew how stretched she was.
“Uh—ohh.” Their faces were inches apart and he stared into her eyes right as her orgasm hit her. Her body was lit on fire as she moaned audibly, and clung onto him. He kept fucking her through her high, feeling the wetness drip down his thighs.
He was about to follow her and allow himself a release but instead, he turned the water off.
“Can’t have the water wash my cum away, it should be deep inside of you.” He panted heavily and caressed her flushed cheeks.
The moment he said that she knew she was in for a long night of rounds, orgasms, and humiliation.
And she wouldn’t want it any other way.
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harryforvogue · 4 months
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a blurb where harry is a big schedule guy and yasmine is a big "it happens when it happens" girlie. they fight (sorta).
***
Harry and Yasmine have never lived with other people after moving out of their homes, and they alternated whose place they’d be staying at back in graduate school. It was always an unspoken rule that if Harry was at Yasmine’s house, she was the boss. And vice versa. 
But now that they're living together, how are they supposed to adjust and split responsibilities? More importantly, how the hell are they expected to create a rhythm?
Harry is a very structured person. Gets out of bed at a certain time, has lunch at a fixed time. Dinner as well. He considers himself a pretty laid back guy too. He’ll skip cooking some days to order takeout – or swap his laundry days with his bedsheet changing days just to switch things up. Yasmine calls him a relentless Aquarius. He's not supposed to be offended, right?
He’s always known that Yasmine is… less serious about all that. So, really, he always knew what he was getting himself into. Especially when it’s nearly 11 on a Sunday and Yasmine’s still buried in the sheets, gripping him tight to keep him from slipping out of bed despite his groaning about how he just wants to take a shower and eat something. (Probably the worst habit of Yasmine’s is skipping breakfast nearly every morning and that’s just not something he’s going to stand by.)
After graduation, Yasmine and Harry are employed at different universities, and the first few months are filled with settling into their new jobs. Their work hours are very similar, with the exception of Wednesdays where Harry has a later recitation class to teach. Regardless, Harry went into the new job with the mindset that he’d always get all his work done on time so that he and Yasmine could focus on figuring out the layout of their place still. Not to mention, Harry’s dedication to at least 2 dates a week (and going grocery shopping is NOT a date no matter how much Yasmine insists it is). 
He has a calendar in his office above his desk that tells him what days he needs to get his deadlines done so that he and Yasmine can have some time for themselves. He crosses out all the things he gets finished and circles the days he’s free.
Yasmine is the opposite. She always gets everything done, but it’s never as planned as Harry. She has the ability to sit down and bang everything out in one day … and also the ability to procrastinate until the night before.
It’s baffling to Harry. Harry’s routine is annoying to Yasmine. Really – where’s the fun in all that planning? And what if something suddenly comes up and there’s no wiggle room to fit in a doctor’s visit or something just because you’ve meticulously scheduled all your work to be back to back on weekdays.
This comes up one day when she’s working and he’s bringing her dinner to her study.
Harry pulls up a chair on the other side of her desk with his own plate. “Yasmine.”
“Mhmm.”
“If you’d gotten this done yesterday, we could have gone to the shop you wanted to visit.”
“We can go during the weekend. I can’t just align everything with your schedule to free up some time.”
Harry smiles, but it’s clearly tense. “We get home at the same time, Yas. If we can just finish all our stuff for the next day of class before, say, 5pm, we have the rest of the day to be together. Doesn’t that sound great?”
Yasmine glances up at him over her glasses. “I don’t want to do more work as soon as I get home though. I want to relax.”
From Harry’s face, she knows he’s thinking about the hour-long nap she took on their couch as soon as she came home. 
“Right, but. Now it’s almost 8 and we won’t make it to the store on time.”
“We’ve got weekends for that.”
His mouth twists into something that’s very much not a smile. “We’ve got other stuff to do over the weekend, remember? We agreed on two dates a week–”
“No. You decided that.” 
Harry stops. He tilts his head back to look at the ceiling in an attempt to calm himself down. When he looks back at her, he reaches across, shuts her laptop in a not-so-nice way and says, “What?”
Yasmine crosses her arms over her chest and leans back in her chair. “Well, you said the two dates thing. I think going to the shop counts as a date.”
“Going shopping isn’t a date. Having a romantic time out is a date.”
“Any time I get to spend with you is a date, Harry. It's about being with you, not where we go.”
“Have you maybe considered that I want to take you to restaurants and little getaways simply because I enjoy them too? That I like to see you have fun with me?”
Yasmine sighs and takes her glasses off. She rubs her eyes tiredly. “You clearly have a certain work ethic. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but I don’t. I get my work done when it gets done and I don’t want this structured, super formal scheduling of our time together. We live together, Harry. I see you all the time. Isn’t that enough?”
He doesn’t say anything for some time, but it’s clear he’s taken aback.
“It’s not enough,” he says, anger in his voice. “It’s not nearly enough. We’re dating, Yasmine. We’re not roommates.”
Yasmine blinks. “We technically are roommates.”
He runs a hand through his hair. Yasmine knows she's pushing him more than necessary. "Don't do that."
“All I’m saying is that I don’t want to schedule times with you. Won’t that be boring? Like, oh! It’s 6pm! Gotta go watch a movie with my boyfriend. It’s 7. Gotta have dinner. It’s 8, we should probably have sex before we get too tired. I’ve never had that type of schedule and I don’t want to.”
“It’s efficient.”
“I’m not having sex with you at 8pm every night just because it’s efficient. What -- are you going to break up that time too? 15 minutes for foreplay, 10 minutes for--"
He looks really mad now, his eyes alight. “That’s not what I mean! I’m saying that if we’re on the same wavelength – if we’re getting all our work done on time, then we can spend time together. That’s all! You're being way too difficult just for the sake of disagreeing with me.”
Yasmine frowns deeply. “Why don’t you adapt to my schedule then? I get all my work done too. I’ve got Saturday and Sunday’s open too – just like you.” From Harry’s expression, she exclaims, “See? It’s not about our time together. It’s about us sticking to your routine.”
Harry pinches the bridge of his nose. “We live together now. Don’t you think we should have some sort of rhythm? Be in sync?”
“That’s boring Harry!”
“It’s–”
“Don’t you dare say efficient!”
“It is!” Harry stands, putting distance between them. “This is ridiculous, Yasmine. And you have no right to say that I’m only making you adapt to my way of living.”
“Why can’t we live my way?”
“Because you don’t have a way! You get up and you just make things up! I can’t do that. I want to have breakfast together, lunch together and dinner together. I don’t want to be eating alone while you’re working just because you didn’t want to finish everything before 6. This past week alone, we’ve yet to do anything but ask about each other’s day because when I’m working, you're not, and when you’re working, I’m done with everything. You see the problem?”
Now, Yasmine can handle Harry when he gets like this. She’s put up with him before – and she’d be lying if she said she doesn’t see his point. He wants to spend time together as a couple. And he’s figured out a great way to clear up time for himself. Now he wants her to follow his regimen.
But the thing that makes Yasmine get angry is his volume. He’s got no right to yell at her.
And, okay. He’s not really yelling. He’s just annoyed and getting his point across loudly. But, it’s too late.
“Clearly we’re not going to do anything together tonight so why don’t you just let me finish my work and then we’ll talk about this later.”
Harry grabs his dinner and starts to leave her office. “No, we won’t be talking about this because by the time you’re done, I’m going to be asleep!”
“Well maybe don’t sleep so early?” she snaps back.
“Why should I change my schedule to match yours?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you!”
“You don’t have a schedule!” Harry says, visibly trying to keep his head from exploding. “You do things whenever you feel like doing them. So whenever you realize you’re more than a roommate to me, find me.”
He shuts the door behind him, leaving Yasmine alone in the room.
***
Harry can hold a grudge.
Yasmine, as fiery as she can get, has harsh anger hangovers. Once her anger at Harry is gone, she goes to find him. Sure enough, it’s late and Harry’s already in bed.
So she gets ready for bed too. And when she slides in, she waits for Harry to say something. He must still be angry because he doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t even turn to give her a kiss.
Yasmine sighs to herself. He’s the one who never likes to go to sleep angry, so she inches closer to him and rests her head on his shoulder. “Harry.”
No answer.
“Harry?”
Nothing.
He’s not wrong, but she’s not either. So she sits up and pokes his biceps hard to wake up just in case he’s already out. When he offers her nothing, she huffs and rolls her over him, looking at him sideways with half her body draped over his arm. 
“Hey.” She goes back to poking, this time on his face. “Hellooooooo.”
“What are you doing?” he grumbles, turning his face away. Yasmine finishes rolling over so she’s now on his side, looking up at him. She nearly tumbles off the side of the bed, but Harry’s quick arm on her waist prevents that.
"Yasmine," he hisses.
“Let’s talk about it.”
“I don’t want to. Go back to your side."
“Oh come on. No going to sleep angry, remember?”
“I’m not angry. I’m annoyed. We can definitely go to sleep annoyed. In fact, I can't think of anything else I'd rather be doing."
“Hmm, no we can’t.” She tangles her legs with his. “Harry. Look. I understand what you’re saying. But I’m not going to apologize. I don’t think we’re that type of couple that needs to do everything together.”
“Not what I was saying but thanks for showing me you were listening."
She rolls her eyes. “I get that you want to spend time together, but don’t you think blocking out certain hours of the day is kind of ridiculous? It's so military."
"Military?"
"You get what I mean."
“Yasmine, if you had a 9 to 5 job, what time would we have to be together?”
“That’s not fair considering we don’t have 9 to 5s.”
“Say we did.”
“We’d have time after 5 and weekends.”
“Wouldn’t that be a schedule?”
“Well I don’t imagine we’d do something every day. I love you, but I do need to be away from you sometimes.”
Harry’s jaw tenses. He closes his eyes again. “Goodnight.”
“Hey wait, I didn’t mean it like that!” Yasmine laughs, throwing her arms around his neck. “I only mean that we’d get sick of each other.”
“I’d never get sick of you.”
“You’re saying that now but if we’re attached at the hip, then I’m totally sure–”
Harry’s eyes open and he grabs Yasmine’s face, tugging her close. “Never,” he says, voice deathly quiet. “I’d never get sick of you.”
She stops laughing, eyes wide. Something flutters in her chest. And…elsewhere too.
"Fine," she says, all breathily. "It would be a schedule, but only because we'd have no other option. We have flexibility as professors. We have more time, but more work load we bring home. It's not the same thing."
The hand on her waist tightens and suddenly she’s beneath him, his entire body hovering over hers. He lets go of her face, but leans down to kiss her instead. She holds him tight, her fingers tangled in his long curls that keep falling into their faces and tickling them.
“Harry,” she murmurs against his mouth. “Why are you so worried about us spending time together, hm?”
“I haven’t had a single meal with you all week, and I just remembered that you spent Sunday catching up on work, which is unfair because I forced myself to finish all my work so that I could have time for you. I don’t want to be the only one doing that.”
Yasmine sighs. “Harry, I’m not working just to avoid you.”
“I know that. And I know that us living together is enough for you. That sleeping and waking besides me is good, but it's not nearly enough for me.” Then, quietly, “I’m being petty about how you get your work done. But Yasmine, I didn't ask you to move together with me just so I could see you every day. I want a life with you." He traces her cheek gently, kissing the corner of her mouth. “And you’re right – we don’t have a 9 to 5 but is it so wrong for wanting to cut out a part of my day just for us? No talking about work. Just you and me, with a lot of this, preferably.” He kisses her again.
She's getting all mushy inside again. “It’s not wrong,” she whispers. “It’s not.” She wraps her legs around him, making him lean all her wait onto him. He holds his out against the mattress to stop himself.
“Don’t wanna hurt you.”
“No. Lay on me."
Harry does so, just for a total of five seconds until she’s gasping for air. Satisfied, she rolls out from under him and lets him lay comfortably. She straddles him then, bracing her hands on his chest. “Okay, let’s come to an agreement.”
Harry runs his hands up and down her thighs. “Let’s.”
“How about this: no talk of work after 7.”
“6.”
“Done.”
“And I will try my best to finish all my work by then also, but in the event I cannot due to circumstances overlooked in your calendar, you have to leave me to finish up so that I can come back to you as quickly as possible.”
“Done. And on weekends, nobody works. Don't bring any of it home on Friday. Not even a mere word about it.”
“Unless absolutely necessary.”
He pins her with a stern look. “I’ll be the judge of those conditions.”
“Anything else, professor?” Yasmine grins knowingly down at him, drumming her fingers against his chest.
Harry pinches her side. “And I will be a little less annoying about the whole two date thing.”
“And I’m sorry that I’ve kind of neglected you all week.”
“Thank you.”
Yasmine blinks expectantly at him.
He says, “Oh, are you waiting for an apology from me?”
“That would be nice.”
“Is that right?” 
She feels a thrill rush up her spine. “I’d appreciate it.”
“Yeah? Would you, baby? Good to know.”
“Or you can make it up to me in a different way.”
He shrugs. “Sorry. It’s almost 10. I’m strictly a no-love-making-past-eight-pm kinda guy.”
Yasmine sighs. “What a shame. And to think I went through all this effort coming to bed without a bra or underwear on in hopes I’d get to–”
Harry sits up and wraps his arms around her, roughly pulling her down into bed. “C’mere.”
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LOVE ON TOUR: SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA. NIGHT II. 04.03.2023
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sainz5516 · 7 months
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Whenever an enemies to lovers fic has a line like:
Oh.
Oh.
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hstylestuff · 13 days
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like or reblog if you save
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maddieisnotreal · 1 year
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movie: youth in revolt // sunrise by louise glück // sign of the times - harry styles // little weirds by jenny slate // letter to a young poet by rainer maria rilke // more than this by patrick ness // abundance by amy schmidt // after life by rhian ellis
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