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#harry styles x woc
harryforvogue · 3 months
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a fic about harry and faye where faye needs to be picked up because it's snowed so bad and also she's feeling very very needy. has smut so be careful. or not. do whatever you like. DO leave feedback though or else i will fucking haunt you
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Faye calls Harry at around 6pm.
He’s asleep, his iPad abandoned by his side with the pen still between his fingertips. He doesn’t know what time he dozed off, but he’s got to thank Faye for the portable heater she bought him for Christmas. It’s magnificent.
Getting himself out of bed to reach for his phone is difficult. When he finally manages, the only thing that makes him pick up is Faye’s photo.
He brings it to his ear. “Hi, baby.”
Immediately, he can hear the frown in her voice. “Oh no. I woke you up.”
“It’s all right,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to sleep anyways. I’ll barely get a few hours at night if I nap now.” He brings his phone back to his bed and sits down. “What’s up?”
“Um, well I just finished rehearsals.”
“Yeah? That’s good. Got out early?”
“Yes, it’s snowing pretty bad now.”
“Mm, is it?” He forces himself to get back up and take a peek out his curtains. She’s right; the snow lays on the roads, flurries all around still. “You wanna stay on the phone with me until you get home?”
“That’s kind of the thing. I’ve been at this bus stop for 15 minutes and my app keeps saying the bus is about to come, but the roads aren’t properly cleared so I don’t think it’s coming.”
Harry frowns. “You’re outside?”
“Yeah. I walked to the stop, but it’s like a ghost town here. Nobody’s out driving. The buses may have all been canceled.”
“Oh shit. Are you wearing warm clothes? Gloves and all?”
“Yup.”
“Good. Which stop are you at today? I’ll come get you.”
There’s instant relief in her voice. “Thank you.” She tells him which stop and then sighs softly. “It’s not that cold which is good. I suppose I should sit down on the bench but there’s ice on it and I already slipped while walking here. My butt still hurts.”
Harry groans as he tugs his jacket on and grabs an extra beanie. He shoves his feet into his shoes and grabs his keys. “Don’t tell me that,” he says. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” Faye laughs. “I’m okay.”
“Think you can hold on for 15 minutes?”
“Yes, but Harry you have to drive safely, okay? The inner roads aren’t cleared at all.”
Harry sticks a piece of gum in his mouth. “Yeah, love, I’ll be fine.”
“Okay.”
“Wanna stay on the phone with me?”
“Um, I would, but I can barely feel my fingers.”
Harry has to groan again. He’s outside now and thankfully his car isn’t looking too bad. He’ll still need to defrost it a bit. “Faye, you just told me you had gloves!”
“Whoops.”
“Okay, I’m going to hang up, but please try to get warm. Go into one of those shops nearby.”
“The only shop open near me is the chicken shop.”
“Go in there.”
“I don’t like the smell of chicken.”
“I must say that you are insanely difficult today.”
Faye giggles. “I’m not.” She must hear him turn his ignition on. “Okay, bye now. Drive safe.”
“I will.”
She hangs up. Harry has to step out of the car with his snow brush, pushing his way over to clean his windshields. He’s blasting the heat on the inside, and within ten minutes, he’s ready to go. When he gets back in his car, he’s muttering swears, trembling with the cold. “Not that cold, my ass.”
And Faye’s right. The inner roads are horrendous. He drives so below the speed limit, he may as well walk to get her. 15 minutes turn into 20 and by the time he’s pulling up to her bus stop, he’s very worried Faye may be a frozen block of ice. 
Faye wobbles her way over to the car, yanking the door open and all but throwing herself inside. She’s shivering so bad, Harry puts the car in park and reaches over the console to hug her tightly.
“For fuck’s sake, Faye,” he mutters, suppressing a shiver at her cold face pressed into his neck. “I told you to go into the shop!”
“If y-you made me wait any longer, I would have!”
“I drove as fast as I could.”
Harry turns the heat up higher and rubs her arms firmly, trying to get her tight muscles to relax. She’s wearing a winter jacket, yes, but her head is uncovered and she doesn’t even have a scarf. He pulls back to look at her, hoping there’s disappointment on his face. But Faye’s eyes just light up and then she’s lifting her head to get a kiss.
He can’t say no.
He cups her face and softly kisses her. Her lips are cold, but he can still taste the cherry chapstick as if she kept reapplying it every few minutes. She kisses him several more times, but when she places her frozen hands on his neck, he pulls away sharply.
“Faye!” He holds his neck as if wounded. “That’s so cold!”
Faye’s knees bounce. “Sorry!"
She doesn’t look sorry.
He grabs the beanie he’s brought her and throws it onto her head. Her bangs get caught on her forehead, momentarily blinding her, and she laughs, fixing the hat. Her black hair frames her cheeks. She reaches in for another kiss, but Harry stops her with a shake of his head.
“Get warm first. Or else you’ll get hypothermia and then I’ll have nobody to kiss.”
Faye says, “Wow you sound a lot like me.” She holds her trembling hands by the vents, shivering so bad, she’s compelled to make audible noises to show how cold she is, her jaw quivering. Harry starts driving the car again, and once he gets off the main street, he reaches for her hand and holds it in his lap.
“How were rehearsals?”
“Okay,” she says, shoulders shaking. “Maybe people couldn’t come in today because of the snow. I had to do, like, three roles.”
“Opening night is next month, right?”
“Yup. I got you your tickets.”
Harry kisses the back of her hand, squeezing her pale fingertips hard. She's painted her nails dark blue, he notices. “Thank you. Are you hungry?”
“Mhm.”
“Let’s get something to eat then. I don’t have anything at home. Didn’t cook today.”
“Oh. Are we going to yours?”
“Yes.”
“Can I stay over?”
Harry smiles. “Yes.”
“Is Timmy home?”
“Nope.”
“Can we play that video game again?”
Harry sends her a look. “I thought you’d want to watch a movie or something.”
“Well, if you want to. But I had a lot of fun playing that game.”
“Yes, you were so good at it.”
She was not. Harry spent the entire night trying to save her, getting himself killed, and then yelling and begging her to stay alive until he could be revived. Faye had a lot of fun it seems, though Harry wouldn’t say it was a very productive night.
But, if she wants to do it, then they will.
“I feel like I’ll be better tonight,” Faye says, leaning forward to put her face against the air vent. Her eyes flutter shut. “We’ll get to the next level.”
“You mean level two.”
She laughs.
Harry’s pulling up to the take out shop they’ve agreed on when his phone goes off. He answers it on the car’s speakerphone.
“Yeah, mate?”
“Hey,” Timothée’s voice rings out. “Where are you right now?”
“I’m with Faye picking up food.”
“Oh cool. Hey, can you pick me up from the shop, man? My car’s fucking buried.”
Harry sighs. “Yeah, that’s fine. When are you off work?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Yeah, I’ll get you.”
“Cool, and hey–”
“Yeah?”
“Can you grab me some food? I’ll pay you back.”
Harry says, “I’ll think about it.”
There’s silence on the other line until Timmy says, “Faye?”
She leans in. “Yeah?”
“Can you make sure he gets me food? I’ll Venmo you right now.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks. Bye!” And then he hangs up.
Harry rubs his eye and then unbuckles his seat belt. Faye goes to do the same, but he stops her, shaking his head. “No, you need to stay warm.”
“I’m fine!”
“Nope.” He locks the car after opening his door and gives her a meaningful look. She watches him disappear into the shop.
When he comes back, he thinks she’s looking a lot better. The red in her cheeks has returned and she’s reapplying her chapstick without shaking fingers. He leans over and kisses her, pleased that her lips aren’t frozen anymore. Unexpectedly, she holds onto his collar and kisses him harder, and she doesn’t let him go until he’s chuckling against her lips and trying to pry away.
“What’s gotten into you?” he murmurs, peppering kisses down to her jaw. She shivers, but not from the cold this time.
“Just missed you.”
“Mm.” He kisses her cheek. “I missed you too.”
It’s a lot harder to drive after that, especially because Harry’s hand rests on Faye’s thigh, and she keeps playing with his fingers, occasionally pulling his hand up to kiss his palm. 
When they get to the shop, Timmy rushes into the car and slaps a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Thank you, man. This is great. Thanks. Hey, Faye.”
“Hi.”
“You’re coming over?”
“Yup.”
“Cool. Did you get me any food?”
“Yes we did.” She hands him the aux cord when he asks for it. They listen to his odd taste in music for the ride home.
Harry takes Faye up to his room when they get home. Timmy’s nearly falling asleep so he eats his food quietly and then heads to his own room with a reminder through the walls that he’d appreciate it if Harry and Faye kept it down.
Faye says, “I don’t know why he always says that,” as she’s climbing into Harry’s lap on his bed in his shirt only. He looks up at her, eyes shining, his hands resting just below her butt. She wraps her arms around his neck. “We’ve never been that loud.”
“I mean I certainly haven’t,” Harry teases, pulling her down onto his thighs.
“Me neither!”
“Sure.”
Faye can’t come up with a response, so she kisses him, and then turns around in his lap, back pressed to his warm, strong chest. He places his hand on her thigh, holding her to him. As he’s setting up the game, she reaches over and grabs his iPad, turning it on to see his latest sketch.
It’s a very daunting looking dragon with detailed wings and scales. She zooms in to see all of it, thoroughly impressed. “This is so cool, Harry!”
“Yeah? Thanks, baby. Had a client say she wanted a big dragon piece so I’ve been brainstorming.”
“Where does she want it?”
“Around her bicep.”
“It must hurt like crazy.”
Harry hooks his chin over her shoulder and hugs her tight to him. “Yeah, but as long as they’re happy with it, right?”
She turns her head to look at him with her devastatingly pretty eyes. “Have you done any cool ones this week?”
He makes a show of thinking really hard. “Did a decent snake two days ago.”
“Ooh. Will you post the pictures?”
“Yeah. Haven’t had the time to.”
Faye cradles his face and kisses his cheek. “I’ll be the first person to like it.”
“You always are,” he murmurs, tilting his head back so she can continue her kisses down his neck.
His eyes flutter shut as Faye’s hands run over his arms, gently pressing herself back against him. He feels her breath hitch.
“Faye,” he softly admonishes. “You said you wanted to play the game.” 
“It’s still loading,” she whispers back, shaking him off to be able to turn in his arms again. The force she kisses him with throws him off. He’s pushed back, hands flying out to steady himself against his mattress. She wraps her legs around him and kisses him breathless, her fingers trailing up the sides of his head and then burying themselves into his curls. She presses herself against him again, and then she gently licks at him. Harry welcomes her tongue when he parts his lips.
She kisses him like she hasn’t been kissed properly in years – which is simply untrue because he kisses her until she forgets her name on a routined basis. Faye presses herself even closer, and when the first whine leaves her throat, Harry’s arms are around her, dragging her hips against his. She sighs as if that small contact between them has caused her such release.
The TV makes a noise to tell them the game has finished loading. Faye’s mouth shows no signs of letting him up. Harry pulls up for a second to breathe, and then kisses her again, leaning into her with his hands spread out against her back. They stay there until he’s sliding his fingers under his shirt that she wears, slowly pushing her until she’s laying on her back and Harry’s hovering over her.
“The game,” he whispers.
“Hm?” she manages, rolling her hips against his again, her eyes both innocent and flirty.
He breathes out a swear and then works on pulling the shirt off of her. Faye shivers immediately, but he kisses down her neck and collarbones to warm her up, letting her adjust when she catches onto what he wants to do. She slides back and lets him move further down her body.
“Harry–”
“Yes, baby?”
She changes her mind when Harry’s fingers hook into her underwear. “Oh. Oh, nothing.”
“Tell me,” he says, dragging them down. 
“Well, it’s only that I thought I’d do this for you. Because you, um, picked me up and I wanted to thank you.”
Harry chuckles. “You can do that after this, but right now I have a feeling you’re going to explode if I don’t touch you. Care to tell me what’s got you so worked up? I fucked you so well just two days ago.”
Faye throws a hand over her eyes and Harry doesn’t know if it’s because she’s forced to answer his question while unclothed or if it’s his words that embarrass her. Possibly both.
“It’s because you came to get me and your voice was so deep and raspy and tired and your hand on my thigh and–”
Harry situates himself between her legs and lets her knees come up besides his head. He kisses her soft inner thighs and wraps his arms around them. Faye lifts her head to glance down at him and then moans softly when he licks into her. Slowly. Teasingly.
Her black hair is fanned out around her, her breath coming hard and fast. Her lips are parted, pink and swollen from their kisses. She looks ruined already. Harry will never get used to the sight. He never wants to.
“Fuck,” she whimpers, throwing her head down. Her eyes flutter shut as Harry leans in and takes over completely, his skilled mouth ruthless against her. His fingers dig into her hips, holding her down though she desperately raises herself to meet his mouth.
“Oh, I love you,” she whispers, threading her fingers into his hair. “So much.”
He sucks and licks and laps diligently until her back is gently arching off his mattress and she has to bite down on her knuckles to keep her noises in. Seeing her like this turns Harry on, his body on alert. He feels like every cell of his body has been electrified, but despite his arousal, all he wants is for Faye to fall apart against him.
It doesn’t take her long. Her thighs tremble. She cries out and yanks his hair. The pain is distant to him. Harry lets her use his tongue to ride out her high, and when she’s done, she’s whimpering from sensitivity. Harry only pulls away when she’s whining, “Ah, okay, okay, that’s it, please. No more.”
He grins at her, gently wiping the corners of his mouth. “Always so good for me.”
Faye covers her face. Harry helps her back into her clothes and then lays beside her until she’s ready to turn to him and kiss him. He kisses her hair. “My darling girl,” he whispers. “My baby. So perfect."
She’s straddling him before five minutes are up, her hands resting on his chest, hair falling like curtains around her flushed face. The strands hit Harry’s cheek. His hands are on her thighs again, and he’s smiling lazily at her.
“I love you too,” he murmurs, running his hand up to her waist. 
Faye swallows and grinds down on his length through his sweatpants. “My turn?”
“We can take a break if you w–”
“No,” she says immediately, fingers already pulling Harry’s shirt up. Her eyes hungrily take in every tattoo she slowly reveals. Harry lifts his head to pull the shirt off.
Faye seems to have something in mind already. So Harry just lets her undress him, enjoying the kisses she trails after her hands. She has plenty of energy, preferring to stay on top of him instead of switching back over. 
She works herself over him until she’s throwing her head back and nearly sobbing with relief. Harry watches the pleasure roll over her, her hands in tight fists against his chest. 
“I love you,” she says again, taking deep breaths when it’s over. Her face is a gentle pink, her chest flushed. “I love you so bad, Harry.”
Once he’s pulled out of her, he’s grabbing her waist and pulling her down to him, wrapping his arms around her tight. “I love you,” he says, kissing all over her face, wiping the corners of her eyes. “My pretty girl, I love you, I love you, I love you.”
Spent, Faye lets him cuddle her, her face pressed against his neck. His body is warm and as comforting as always. He mutters how much he loves her several more times.
Some time later again, Faye raises her head from his chest and says in her scratchy voice, “Should we play now?”
And Harry kisses her and says, “Yes, baby.”
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adoreyouusugar · 2 years
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Idk I just expected WAY more Harry Styles x Black reader and not that insecure bs but like actual good writing 💀not the few and far 2014 posts and tbh I don’t even see many of those ( with the rushed writing and just almost nonsensical talking )
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cleoooelizabeth · 1 year
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Felt like posting myself bc y tf not, let me know if its shit before I post it on insta 🤣
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harrysgoldenbum · 2 years
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Chai for Two
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Harry x Jiya
word count: 1819
warnings: none, just soft and fluff
it had been proofread, but I am sure I might have missed a mistake or two
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translations/pronunciation/extra info
~~
Harry woke up mid-morning wrapped around Jiya. Harry laid on his side and had a thick thigh thrown over Jiya’s legs and his arm was wrapped around her waist, while her face was tucked into his chest.
Harry woke up from the sunshine streaming into the bedroom. Jiya’s sage green sheets covered him from the waist down. He moves his head back far enough to look at his girlfriend. 
A content smile forms on his lips.
Pressing a gentle kiss on Jiya’s forehead, he relaxes into the mattress and just holds her. It was the first night he stayed over at her place and he is already looking forward to the next time.
It was about five minutes later when Jiya woke up and presses closer to his body. She was just in a cute cotton pajama set that consisted of a pink button-down shirt and sleep shorts. “Morning,” she mumbled against his skin. 
He didn’t say anything, but his hand continued to caress her back. They lay in silence for some time just enjoying the warmth that came from the sun and each other.
He liked how he felt when he was around her. It was effortless. He didn’t have to worry about what he was doing or saying, he didn’t feel like he had to put on a show for Jiya. He was able to be himself around her. 
It took a little bit of courage from Harry before he asked her, “Will you teach me how to make chai?” 
Jiya pulled back in surprise and looked at him. “Really?”
“I want to be able to make it for you,” he whispers shyly. “The way you like it.”
A rush runs through Jiya’s body. Just the thought of Harry wanting to make her tea warms her from her fingers to her toes. A bright smile stretches across her face.
And that's what gets them to get out of bed. The two of them freshen up and took turns brushing their teeth. Harry now had a brush in Jiya’s toothbrush holder. He pulls on the soft yellow shirt he was wearing yesterday and his jeans. Jiya added a sports bra under her sleep shirt and slid on a pair of house slippers. 
Pulling out a small copper-colored pot, Jiya showed him how much water to put in. “It depends on how many people are going to drink it. My Bibi Ji taught me how to make chai, but my Nani Ji helped me get it to my taste.”
She explained to him that over the years she had made so many cups of chai, that she has gotten used to just eyeballing how much water she needs to boil. “Even if I have to make a large pot, I’ve just gotten used to it. What you have to keep in mind is that along with the water, you will be adding milk too.” 
Harry was quiet as he watched her move around in her kitchen. She was in her element, bubbly, and light. He took in every word she was saying. 
The stove ticked a few times just before the flame caught.
Much like the rest of her duplex, her kitchen was cozy and welcoming. Her colored cabinets popped against the white backsplash, and wooden floors. Her wooden floating shelves provided more space. The shelves were covered with various cookbooks, spices, and dishes. Jiya’s windowsill, just above her sink, was decorated with a few plants, one looked like spearmint and another looked like basil, and there were a few others that Harry couldn’t recognize. Near her stove, sat a tray that had ceramic jars labeled ‘sugar’ and ‘tea’, next to it was a container that held wooden spoons, spatulas, and what looked like a small steel sieve. 
While the kitchen colors were gray and white, the stillwater blue kitchen island provided a sharp contrast. Which happened to match the living room sofa. Jiya also inserted a shot of color with the different mugs and dishes she used in the house. Along with a couple of flower bouquets, that sit on the kitchen counter and living room table - she also has one in her office. For the last couple of months, Harry had taken it upon himself to make sure that the flowers were exchanged for fresh ones, changing them about every two weeks. 
Jiya placed the pan over the fire, “I hope you know that I am making you a cup too.” She tosses him a smile over her shoulder as she reaches into the cabinet. She pulls out jars that contain cardamom, clove, and cinnamon sticks. “I personally don’t add sugar, but you can always add it after.” She also pulls a mortar off the shelves. Moving, Harry comes to stand beside her. Placing a tea towel under the grinder, Jiya added two cardamom pods and one stick of clove into the bowl. She snaps a cinnamon stick into a fourth and drops it into the water. Taking the pestle, Jiya pounds the green cardamom pods and the clove a few times before she drops them into the water too. “There are so many different spices that you can add to chai, it just depends on the taste you are going for. Like, some days instead of adding cinnamon, clove, and cardamom, I’ll use fennel seeds. The amount of spices you use changes, depending on how many people you're making tea for. Of course, you don’t have to add spices if you don’t want to. You could just make a plain cup too.” Placing the lid onto the pot, she leans back against the counter and tells him to wait until the water boils. 
Standing close to each other, Jiya looks up at him and can see the concentration on his face. She hesitates for a second before she works up the courage to ask him, “Can I ask what prompted you to want to learn how to make chai?” His eyes catch hers. And a small smile forms on his pretty face, just giving her a hint of his dimples. 
“You’re the first person I’ve been with who has taken the time to learn the things that I like. And every time you do, it reminds me how effortless a relationship should be. I wanted to return the gesture, and not because I want to even things out, but because I want to.”
Leaning in, Harry presses a gentle kiss on her lips. “It’s just something I want to be able to do for you.” He murmurs against the apple of her cheek. Cupping her head in his hands, Harry presses delicate kisses on her eyelids. “Is that okay?” 
Pecking his pink lips, Jiya whispers a soft, “Yes.” 
They stand in each other's warmth, enjoying each other’s presence, while they wait for the water to boil. 
It takes about two minutes until the water starts rolling. 
“So usually with loose leaf tea, one spoon is enough for about two cups, if you want stronger tea then you add more and let it simmer for longer.” Scooping the black tea from the designated jar, Jiya adds a spoonful to the pot. They wait about 2 minutes before she moves toward her refrigerator and pulls out a gallon of milk. “Okay so this is going to sound silly, but it was the only way I could remember how much milk to add when I was younger. I was never taught how much to measure, my grandmothers took ‘measure with the heart’ literally.”
Tipping the milk gallon, Jiya poured the milk into the pot. She continued to do so until the liquid turned into a medium tan color. “As a kid, I would always compare the color of the tea to my skin color.” 
It took Harry a second to process what his girlfriend just said, “What?!” 
Jiya felt her face heat up, and a slight blush showed on her tan complexion, “I told you it’s silly,” she cried out. “It doesn’t work for everyone but that was a connection I made when I was a kid!” Shy, she turned her face away from Harry. “Hey, hey,” he turns her head so she’ll look at him. “Just wasn’t expecting you to say that, Jiya. It was the last comparison I was expecting you to make.”
A small chuckle rumbled out of Harry, “If that is the way you remembered it, it's the way you remembered it.” 
“Okay…” Jiya starts, desperately wanting to move away from the subject, she fidgets in his embrace. “When we add milk into the pan, you want to keep a close eye on it because when it starts to rise, which happens very quickly, it can boil over.” 
And sure enough, it was a few minutes later, Harry heard a hiss coming from the pot, and saw the milk starting to rise. Moving quickly, Jiya turned the flame down and set the liquid to a simmer. “I usually let it simmer for fiveish minutes so that way it's not watery.”
She presses herself against his body and wraps her arms around his waist. “While we wait for the water to boil, what do we want for breakfast?”
They agree to avocado toast with a side of fresh fruit. While the toast heats up in the toaster, Harry takes on the task of cutting and seasoning the avocado. “When did you learn how to make chai?” 
“My Bebe Ji taught me when I was around six or seven,” Jiya responded as she washed up some blackberries and blueberries.
“And your Nani Ji, helped you figure out the way you liked it to taste?” 
A wide smile took over her face, she loved it when he would refer to her grandparents in Punjabi. “Yeah. She was the one who taught me what different spices to use, and which ones complimented each other well.”
Harry stretched against the kitchen island and placed the plate of toast and the bowls of berries on the other side. And watched Jiya turn the flame off the stove and cover the pot with its lid. She took out two mugs from the cabinet and reached for the sieve. Harry watched his dream girl uncover the pot and placed the small sieve over one of the cups and poured the liquid through the netted material, leaving the used spices behind.
She clearly had years of practice with the way she did it with such ease and natural fluidity. Once both cups are filled, Harry picks both of them up from their handles and walks around the island to where their breakfast waits. Jiya follows him and settles down on the barstool next to him. 
After waiting for a few minutes, Harry blows in his cup to cool the hot drink before he takes his first sip. He tastes the spice blend. It's not overwhelming but just enough to give the tea flavor. “I hope you know darling, you’re going to have to give me this lesson a few times before I’ll get it down pat.” 
With a gleam of happiness in her eyes, Jiya nods her head as she takes her first sip of the morning. 
~~
what do yall think :)
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bisluthq · 2 years
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she’s campaigned for women (white women lbr but still women) for years and years and that is ignored lol but like Harry Styles makes an offhand remark and is heralded as a champion of womankind. /
Weird you’re equating these two situations when you literally put the problem people have with “championing” lena in any sort of way for abortion rights in parentheses. She’s for white women. To my knowledge she’s not acknowledged the medical issues black women face more than white women in a meaningful way or advocated for more diversity in medical tools, or included non-white women in her campaigning in any sort of meaningful way. Of course no one is going to be “championing” her in a movement where she doesn’t give a fuck about a large proponent of the women who are harmed most in what she seems to care about, especially considering she’s literally racist on main lol. Like yeah Harry shouldn’t be championed either, but to make this a “women hate women” moment is very much protecting white fragility and accepting her lack of intersectionality in her “activism”
Nah bro, you’ve just shifted the issue and I don’t disagree but that’s not what I was commenting on at all so it seems like… irrelevant. Maybe I didn’t explain myself well. Lena shouldn’t be championed for her activism on abortion because she is racist (something I keep saying) or tbh her activism on anything because she’s… racist lol like this is an ongoing problem.
But it’s fucked up that she’s CRUCIFIED for stuff and white men like Harry and John Mulaney pre his divorce and stuff do the bare fucking minimum and are GLORIFIED for it.
Like that’s the issue: white men literally do THE BARE MINIMUM and are praised and white women are rightfully criticized for their mistakes.
A better example re Harry is Olivia W. Olivia has been a feminist on main since before Harry was on X Factor and you have people pointing out her fuckups as like a “see she’s so problematic” and her attempts at making a difference and shit are ignored.
I’m not saying we should praise white women or ignore racism or transphobia or other problematic thought processes but I think it’s fucked up that white men are praised for literally just not actively sucking and people jump to tear down fellow women.
This affects WOC too fwiw and obviously disproportionately - see people gleefully jumping on cancelling Zoë for stuff men get away with left and right.
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wellthatwasaletdown · 2 months
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People ARE talking about Robinne Lee. The majority of what I’ve seen is outrage or at least discomfort because (and I fact-checked this) she got inspired to create the Hayes character in 2013, when Harry was 19 and it was said by the tabloids that he loved an older woman. The faithful Harries claim he was groomed (by older women and management) into this. They’ve got the author down as a dodgy older woman. So they’re not ignoring her. She’s going to get a lot of bad social media attention unfortunately, not be uplifted as a strong woc. I admit I’m a bit uncomfortable myself, she freely admitted she found her muse (and she mentions no name but there’s no question it’s Harry) and mainlined YouTube videos, got obsessed, got inspired- fan behaviour, except he was a kid and she was very much a 40-year-old. There’s no downplaying it because she went on record when the book came out, and her social media had photos of Harry all over it.
She didn't say "an older woman." She said he had often dated older women. For some reason, harries fixated on Caroline Flack--probably because they can't separate fact from fiction. This book isn't a biography. She drew inspiration and created 2 characters. Hayes is a composite of Harry Edward Styles, her ex, and several others.
Also, the only interview that I've found where she mentioned his age, she says he was 20. She wasn't drooling over the 16-year-old kid on X Factor. He was a legal adult--whether you are comfortable with it or not.
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westcoastrry · 3 years
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Can’t Help If This Is Us
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Hello friends. I’ve worked super hard on this fic. I’m not a fast writer so this took my while and I’m super happy with the way it turned out! Special thank to my bestie @harryforvogue​ . I wouldn’t know how to spell or about even write if it wasn’t for her so thanks you ugly fart face.
Also I wrote this entirely for free so all I ask is for feedback. I would really appreciate it and would love to hear your thoughts!
literally mate please let me know your thoughts. PLEASE. I beg.
WARNING: there is smut in this and mentions of the mafia.
I hope you enjoy reading Kiara and Harry’s story as much an I enjoyed writing it. 11.5k words
A fic about Kiara, a normal girl who works at a coffee shop in the upper east side of New York, where she meets Harry. A man who is caught up in a job he doesn’t want but is working hard to craft a better life for himself.
Fuck me like you wanna make love
Call me when you wanna stay in touch
Lie together just to gain trust
Say what you wanna say, can't help if this is us
Moving to New York was a fresh start for Kiara.
It’s only been a couple of months, but she has grown accustomed to the city.
She has an apartment in a not-so-great part of town, but it is close to her University, and the view from her balcony isn’t too bad. She is a coffee connoisseur, so when her pregnant friend and neighbor, Trina, helped her get a job at a cafe on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, how could Kiara truly not make the best of her newfound city life?
“An Americano please?” a deep British voice asserts.
Kiara’s cleaning off the steamer about an hour into her morning shift when the man with long chocolate curls speaks to her. Kiara has been working here for a month, and some very high profile people have come to the shop, but Kiara has never seen this man, but he sure looks important. He is in a suit, all black, and the only accessories are the multitude of rings he has on his fingers. The rose one catches her eye first, then the big gold H.S letter rings. Those are his initials? What is the point of that? Is this man obsessed with himself?
“Americano?” he says more lightly, snapping Kiara out of her thoughts.
“Sorry, I- Americano,” Kiara stutters.
Kiara isn’t one to get easily flustered, but how can she not be when this six-foot sexy man was towering over her in a suit, asking for black coffee.
Only real men drink black coffee.
She works around the machine expertly until the man’s voice interrupts her. “You’re new here?”
“Yeah,” she responds, swiping a curl off her forehead. Managing her naturally curly type four hair in the bipolar New York weather has been a challenge. Most days, she wears her thick hair in a bun, or when she can afford to get it done, box braids. “Started working here a month ago.” Kiara hands him the coffee in a brown to-go cup.
“Hmmm. I’m here all the time. I’m sure I would have noticed a new pretty employee.”
“Guess I’m not all that pretty then,” Kiara fires back, handing him a receipt with a pen to sign.
Harry doesn’t really know what to say to that because he actually does find Kiara pretty. He likes that her face is an even brown color with a few beauty marks. He likes the color of her light brown hair, and he really likes the sound of her voice. It’s sort of angelic, even when she is snapping at him.
Harry smugly hands Kiara his hefty card (the first indicator that this man has money) and signs the receipt. He drops some cash on the bill.
“That’s your tip. By the way, I do think you’re pretty.” His eyes flick down to her name tag. “Kiara.”
Kiara rolls her eyes at the man. He probably walks around life getting everything handed to him because he’s rich, white, and hot.
Screw him and his stupid cute dimple, Kiara thinks to herself. She goes to grab the receipt he signed and see’s two fifty-dollar bills stacked on each other.
Her mouth forms into an “o” shape. A hundred dollars on a three-dollar coffee? What sense does that even make? This had to be a mistake.
“Hey Kiara, are you okay?” Trina, who’s waiting tables today, asks. She has her brown apron tied over her baby bump with a few crumpled receipts and pens tucked in the pockets.
“I just got tipped a hundred dollars,” Kiara says, still shocked.
“You go, girl!” Trina enthusiastically shouts. “Who was it? A regular?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him before. Brown curly hair, dressed in a nice black suit-”
“Oh, that’s Harry,” Trina smiles. “Everyone loves Harry. He is a cutie. Been getting coffee here for a long time. He owns the strip club down the street.”
“I’m sorry. The dude owns a what?”
“A strip club bar type thing,” Trina shrugs. “Very fancy. It’s pretty much only for the elite. He is super nice. Everyone loves him here! He bought me a crib and this fancy high-tech stroller when he found out I was pregnant.”
“Yeah, well, he is kinda a dick if you ask me,” Kiara mutters under her breath.
“He tipped you a hundred dollars, and you’re calling him a dick?” Trina curiously questions.
“He called me pretty! And he had this arrogant ambiance to his voice. And what is with all the rings? It’s tacky.”
Trina places her hands on her hips.“Oh, just say you find the man hot! It’s okay to admit you find Manhattan’s most eligible and rich bachelor hot. I don’t blame you. I would get on it if I wasn’t thirty and pregnant.”
“I’m not admitting anything. Besides, I don’t have time for men. Men just cause problems.”
“Oh, you're telling me?” Trina points to her bulging belly. Kiara snorts at her friend and starts to walk away to grab more coffee beans from the storage, and Trina follows closely behind her. “You need to have some fun! Loosen up. Get your head out of that textbook. You have been living next to me for three months, and I haven’t seen you invite not one boy over! I know that vibrator you use is tired.”
Kiara grabs the box of coffee beans and turns back around to face Trina. “My vibrator is doing me just fine.”
Kiara’s whole life has been centered around academics. She was a really smart kid growing up. She had a good start to life too. However, Kiara’s wholesome childhood took a turn at twelve when her Dad died in a car accident. The accident was horrific for her entire family, but it hit her mom the worst. Her mom went from being a well respected physician's assistant, to being a drug addict, and Kiara had to grow up at the tender age of twelve just to take care of her mother. Around the age of fourteen Kiara’s mom got shipped off to rehab, and she ended up weaving in and out of foster homes until she was eighteen. Kiara realized that she never wants that to happen to her future family. She has been working hard on her academics because she hopes to have a stable income, so she can give her future kid the life that she never had.
It’s not like Kiara didn’t want to go and mingle around. Meet a new guy, have a one-nightstand, maybe even possibly fall in love. However, the dating scene as a brown skin woman in a whitewashed part of the city isn’t as easy as it sounds. Kiara doesn’t teeter the line of looking ethnically ambiguous. She is clearly a Black girl. Caramel skin, tight curls, full lips, and wide hips. Kiara likes these traits that she carries. In fact, she loves them, but men don’t. Specifically, men that aren’t her race. Not to mention that Black men are hard to come by in this particular part of city.
The simple fact is most white men don’t like Black women.
It’s even arguable that Black men don't even like Black women.
And Kiara is okay with that. She doesn’t need to be approved by a bunch of white people, nonetheless ones with penises. She just wishes she had more options to date within her race, or at least find someone who genuinely liked her.
Maybe that’s the reason why Kiara doesn’t want to go out and find a man to have some fun with. She knows he’s going to be white, and she will have to endure hundreds of questions about her race and her hair or meet racist parents, and she has done that all before.
So, for now, instead of explaining this to Trina, her very white friend, she will just blow off her questions about why she isn’t sleeping around or why she doesn’t entertain the idea of going to bars to find cute boys.
+++
The next day Kiara is off work. She spends her day sitting in her bed, in red pajama shorts and her university sweater, studying for her midterm. She got through quite a bit but is still a little worried about not getting an A. About an hour into her studying, she hears bickering from Trina’s apartment.
“I don’t know what you are being so shy about. Just ask her! You are great with girls.”
“No, I’m great at fucking girls. Trying to establish a genuine connection, I haven’t done that in a while.”
“I believe in you! Now go!”
Knock
Knock
It’s another guy that Trina has been trying to set Kiara up with. Trina does this about every other month. Very rarely does Kiara entertain the idea and sleeps with them, because she is bored, but it usually doesn’t go further than that.
Kiara opens the door to her apartment and there stands Harry. He is holding a boutique of red roses in one hand, and his other is behind his back. The suit he is wearing today is slightly different. Same silhouette, but this time the suit is brown. Kiara finally gets a good look at this man, and fuck.
Green eyes, full bright pink lips. Wide shoulders and defined biceps that show he does work out but isn’t a gym rat.
Gucci loafers. Now, this is an interesting man.
“What are you doing here?”
Harry nervously gestures to the flowers in his hand. “I brought you this.”
“You just came here to bring me flowers?”
“I also brought you this,” Harry pulls his hand from behind his back and shows a bottle of wine he got when he went on a business trip in Napa. He was saving the wine for a special occasion, like the next time he would go visit his mom, but this is more than a special occasion in Harry’s eyes. He is trying to swoon this girl.
Kiara smiles at him and grabs the wine bottle. If it’s one thing Kiara has learned in her adult life is that she loves wine. She usually only gets the cheap stuff from the liquor store down the street, but Kiara has never seen this bottle before.
She walked to her kitchen, leaving Harry staring at her dumbfoundedly. She pulled out two wine glasses from her kitchen cabinet.
Normally Kiara wouldn’t entertain this. Especially since she has a test to study for. However, she can’t lie and say she hasn’t been worked up...sexually.
“Alright, you brought me wine. You are welcomed in.”
Harry follows her inside the apartment, feeling a bit awkward. Usually, Harry never found himself at a girl’s place. He always took his one-night stands back to his house and had his assistant, Trevor escort them out in the morning.
Harry was nervous because this wasn’t a one-night stand. This was him bringing wine and flowers to a girls’ apartment, which he barely knows.
Just like Kiara, Harry also hasn’t been in the dating scene in a while. He has been busy with work, and it’s not easy what he does.
“So why did you come all this way to bring me wine?” Kiara asks Harry, pouring some wine into a glass and handing it to him. “I know you don’t live in this part of the city.”
“I don’t.” Harry sits on the barstool by the kitchen countertop. “I told you I thought you were pretty. Nice place, by the way.”
Kiara looks for the sarcasm on Harry’s face when he compliments her one-bedroom apartment but doesn’t find any. Kiara’s apartment isn’t ugly. But it probably is nothing compared to what Harry lives in.
Kiara takes a gulp of her wine. “It’s kinda trash actually. This is the ghetto.”
“You go to Columbia?” Harry asked, noticing her university sweater.
Kiara takes one more gulp of her wine, finishing off what is left in her glass. She was going to answer Harry’s question. She really was. But she got a good look at his bone structure. The way his jaw is a perfectly angled line. The way his Adam apple moves when he takes a sip of his wine. Even the way his fingers glide against the glass.
She begins to wonder how his fingers would feel against her.
“Kiara?”
That was it for Kiara because she doesn’t think she can keep herself composed in front of this beautiful rich man.
Instead of pouring her wine, Kiara grabs the bottle and starts to chug the wine like she is a trucker drinking a Samuel Adams.
Her lips remove from the bottle with a pop sound. Harry is now staring at Kiara completely taken aback by her actions. “What are you really here for, Harry? Sex? Because we can cut the small talk part.”
“Maybe I actually like you, Kiara.”
“You don’t like me.”
“Who told you that,” Harry counters.
Harry watches closely as Kiara struts towards him.
“I thought you were into blonde models?”
“Where are you finding this information from?” he questions.
“Google.”
Harry smirks. “So you’re googling me?”
“You know, if you wanted to know more about me, you could have just asked.”
Kiara cut him off with her lips attached to his. She wanted him to shut up, but she also wanted to kiss him.
Killing two birds with one stone.
Harry’s lips move in sync with hers, and he places his ringed hands on her back, pulling her closer to him.
If Kiara is being honest with herself, Harry’s lips feel like magic. It’s been a while since Kiara has kissed a guy, and she feels butterflies in the pit of her stomach.
“Kiara, what are we doing?” Harry mumbles into her mouth.
“We are gonna go back to my bedroom, and you are going to fuck me. Hard.”
“A-are are you sure about that?” Harry stutters on his words.
“We both know you didn’t come here to take me out on some date. So let’s just do this.”
Harry should have confidently responded and said, “No, Kiara, that is not why I’m here. I’m here because I actually find you attractive, and I know you have been working at the shop for about two weeks now but I have been very nervous to ask you on a date.”
However, his mouth went dry because Kiara threw off her sweater and her perky boobs sat fully on her chest.
“Kiara-”
“You know,” Kiara rests the palm of her hands on his muscular chest. Kiara has the upper hand and she sees it in the way Harry was staring at her, gaping at her actions. She loves being this bold. Upper chest bare for a man who is practically drooling over her boobs. Kiara likes to be in charge, but only for a little bit. After a while she wants to be taken care of. In bed that is. “For a man of such little words, you are talking so much right now.”
Harry grabs both of her wrist, but keeps her hands placed upon his chest. He knows his heart is racing a mile per minute. Kiara feels it and for a second she thinks to herself that there is no way she is causing this man's heart to skip beats.
Kiara stands up on her tippy toes and lets her tongue dart out to touch right below Harry’s ear suckling on the spot until it turns a nice red shade. She detaches her lips with a pop.
“You want this,” Harry whispers.
“I need this,” Kiara responds back.
“Tell me what you need Kiara.”
Harry’s right hand brushes over her bare breast, causing her to buckle a bit and stumble onto Harry’s chest.
“Hold yourself up, love, and tell me what you need.”
“I need you to fuck me,” Kiara whines.
With that, Harry holds Kiara's hips and roughly turns her away from him. Her hands went out and to grab at the granite countertop, holding herself up as much as she possibly could.
“How do you want it, hmm?” Harry whispers, quickly shrugging off his blazer and undoing a few buttons from his shirt. He begins to place wet kisses along the back of her shoulder. “I can fuck you right here, bent over the counter top. Or I can take you to the bed.”
“Here,” Kiara choked out through a moan.
“Can you handle it?” Harry teasingly asked her.
“I can handle it.”
“Can I take off your shorts?” Harry asks in a more serious tone.
“Mhmm, yes please.”
Harry shimmies down Kiara’s shorts. He takes the time to run his hands over her ass. The contact of her hot skin and Harry’s ice cold rings feels good to Kiara. She wants him to spank her, but she isn’t exactly sure what Harry is into and now she wishes she was sober enough to vocalize what she likes in bed so her needs can be met.
“Let's get a good orgasam out of you. Can I eat you?”
“Yes. God Harry, you're teasing me.”
“Not teasing,” he reassures her. “Just wanna know what you like.”
Harry gets down on his knees and opts for pushing her gray panties to the side instead of taking them off. Her core is glistening in her arousal and the smell alone makes Harry’s dick twitch in his boxers.
“Stop staring at it and-” Kiara cuts her sentence off with a yelp because Harry has attached his plump lips to her clit, giving her small kitten licks.
Kiara doesn’t really prefer to be eaten out. Most men's mouths don’t really do it for her. However, Harry is doing a very good job at keeping her legs shaking. She wants to turn around and look at him, but everytime she tries he delves deeper and deeper in her core, until she can barely hold herself up.
“M’mmm. A little higher please?”
Harry smirks against Kiara’s core because the little please she added to the end of her request tells him that she is slowly letting go of the tough exterior she puts up.
“Here? Is this good?”
“Yeah. Fuck right there please.” Kiara grips at the counter harder until her fingertips turned white.
“Been eating your veggies, huh?” Harry talks against Kiara’s core, the vibrations making her shudder. “You taste good love.”
Kiara is unable to respond because Harry is really going at it. His hands tightly grip Kiara's hips. His face is completely buried in her cunt, and he feels a slight ache in his jaw from the motions he makes with his mouth.
He continues to lick over her swollen folds, and then wraps his lips around her clit, which makes Kiara arch her back and push onto him. She is a panting mess, mouth wide open, eyes pinched together. She begins to thrash around but Harry grips even tighter at her hips.
“Stay still love.”
“I can’t,” she whined. “I’m gonna cum.”
“Why don’t you ask to cum?”
Kiara chokes on her spit slightly when Harry pulls his mouth from her pussy, and dips a finger inside of her. “Am I not entitled to an orgasm?”
“You are if you wanna be good for me.”
“Well if you're looking for a good girl I think you have come to the wrong place-”
Harry adds a second finger to her, which shuts Kiara up. “Ask nicely and you can cum.”
“I didn’t know you were gonna be so-”
“So what?” Harry asks her.
“Dominant.”
“You're lucky I’m not spanking you.”
“What's holding you back?” Kiara challenged.
Harry gets up from off his knees, and his free hand reigns down a heavy smack on her ass.
“Ask me nicely,” Harry demands, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her.
“No.”
Smack.
“Ask nicely Kiara. I can do this all night.”
Kiara snaps her head back to look at Harry. “No.”
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
The three spanks that Harry had given to Kiara were much harder than the first. So hard that Harry started to see an outline of his hand print.  
It's when Harry gives her one more smack and pushes his fingers deeper into her, hitting a sensitive spot that Kiara gives in.
“Fuck, Harry please just let me come,” Kiara struggles to say with a couple tears falling from her eyes from being so wrapped up in pleasure.
“Say sorry.”
“I’m sorry. So damn sorry. Please, I'm so close.”
Harry laughed at how her personality has done a complete one eighty. She went from being a complete brat to now begging him for an orgasm. “You are?”
“Yes please.”
Once Harry feels her pussy tighten around his fingers he pulls them from inside of her. “I don’t think you are that sorry.”
Kiara let out a whimper at the loss of connection. Her legs are still shaking and she almost slipped off the counter but Harry was quick to catch her.
Harry's strong arms snaked around to the front of Kiara’s stomach, letting her stumble back into her arms. She felt Harry’s hard cock press up against her raw ass.“Easy now.”
Usually, Kiara would give Harry some witty comments, but right now she is too worked up from being so close to her orgamsm. She feels a bit fuzzy, not sure what to do next. Her core aches and all she can think about is getting off.
Her hands go down to rub at her clit, but Harry quickly smacks it away.
“That's my job tonight alright? You gonna let me fuck you? You're gonna be good so I can get you off properly.”
Kiara nods her head.
“Verbal consent Kiara.”
“Yes please.”
“Good girl.”
Harry’s smug voice echoes in her ear as he places wet open mouth kisses along her neck. Harry is really enjoying himself. She felt him smile against his neck when he started to coax soft moans out of her.
Kiara weakly pushes Harry's head away from her neck.
“Doll, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“No, I'm good. Can we just take this to my bedroom?” Kiara politely asks. “I think I will be more comfortable there.”
When Harry gets a good look at Kiara, he can tell he has pushed past the first layer of her tough exterior. He knows there is probably much more fight and sass in her, but right now she looks vulnerable.
“Yes of course we can,” Harry held his hand out and Kiara willingly took it as he led both of them to the bedroom.
When they arrive, Kiara sits at the edge of her queen sized bed, and Harry lets go of her hand. She whines a little at the feeling of Harry’s hands slipping away from her.
Harry chuckles at the girl. “Let me just take my shirt off darling.”
Kiara watches closely as Harry’s fingers undo the buttons one by one. His silk shirt gilded easily off his toned shoulders. He made his way to sit at the top of Kiara’s bed leaning against the headboard, and Kiara crawled on her hands and knees toward him.
“Christ,” Harry mumbled under his breath.
Harry spreads his legs wider, which allows Kiara to sit comfortably in his lap. She let her hands roam up and down his tattoos starting with the birds on his collar bone. She then notices the butterfly right above his tummy. When she places her left hand on it, tracing the wings, Harry sighs contently at her touch. It’s a comforting touch, one that he has never experienced with his one-night stands.
Harry breaks a sweat on his forehead when Kiara continues to trace his tattoos. His broad chest stops moving up and down because he begins to hold his breath. He isn’t really sure what she is doing, but it feels good. Good enough for Harry to exhale and relax into the bed.
For Harry, sex with girls usually got directly to the point. Of course, there was foreplay, but not to any extent like this.
Having someone else’s hands on your body is a part of sex. However, this feels much more intimate than that. He’s got that feeling of butterflies in his stomach when Kiara begins to run her hands all over his body. It felt like he was in high school again, having sex for the first time and being so nervous because you don’t know what to do. But in this case, the nerves and butterflies don’t come from a lack of knowledge of the female anatomy. It comes from being completely enamored by the beauty this one girl holds.
And for just a second, Harry questions if he deserves this to feel the way he feels right now. Warm and a little drunk on the feeling of love. He doesn’t love Kiara, at least not yet anyway. But he feels like at this moment, Kiara cares for him. And even if she doesn’t care for him, he wouldn’t mind existing in this false reality he has created in his head for a really long time.
Something about having his body touched in such a vulnerable way is making him feel things he has never felt in his life.
“You have a lot of tattoos,” Kiara points out, fingers still tracing his butterfly tattoo.
“Yeah, I have been collecting them over the years.”
“Which one was your first one?” Kiara asks curiously.
Harry brought Kiara’s delicate hands up to the swallows on his chest.
“These ones,” Harry’s voice shakily said. Kiara takes her index finger and begins to trace the birds.
“How old were you?” Kiara asks, keeping her eyes looking at the birds.
“Sixteen,” is all Harry says, trying to keep his past where it belongs. In the past.
“That’s young. You don’t regret any of them?”
“No, actually. I think they all tell a story. Sure, some of them are stupid, but they all got some meaning behind them.
Kiara innocently brings her hand up to his cheek, cradling his face. “You gotta tell me about them one day. You have so many.”
“Mhmm,” Harry hummed in response.
“Let’s kiss some more,” Kiara suggested, wiggling her hips in Harry’s lap to find a comfortable position.
Harry nodded his head in response letting his lips touch Kiara’s, but not yet giving in to her request. His hands find their way to her lower back, and Kiara’s hands now have made their way up to his shoulders.
“You look good. You know that?” Harry says against her lips.
Kiara now has a grin on her face and blushes at Harry as if she has never received a compliment in her life.
Kiara brushes a brown curl off of Harry’s face with her index finger, “You can’t give me compliments while I’m buzzed off of wine because you might make me fall in love with you.”
Harry smiles. “Why don’t I just fuck you like I love you?”
Harry realizes what he said and awkwardly takes his hands off of Kiara’s body, nervously running his hands through his hair.
Kiara see’s the worried look on Harry’s face, but she is just a tad bit too intoxicated to process the weight of Harry’s words.
“Or you could let me fuck you,” Kiara bodly suggests. “I just haven’t done it in a while, so you might need to take over when my legs get sore.”
Harry nods, his forehead pushed upon Kiara’s. He kisses her again, and is taken by surprise when she lightly bites on his lip. She then gives a quick kiss to the corner of the month, and then his throat. She leans over to kiss his collar bones, and Harry takes the opportunity to grab a handful of her ass.
He then slowly peels her underwear off of her. He drags it slowly past her thighs looking down at her soaking wet core.
“You’re wet,” Harry mummers into her ear.
Kiara cups Harry’s dick through his boxers, and slides them off of his hips.
Harry groans in pleasure when he feels her hand touch his hard dick that is leaking pre cum.
“Don’t get too cocky now,” her hand lazily pumps at Harry's length, which she finds to be quite impressive in size.
“Kiara, don’t forget who is in charge here,” Harry grits through his teeth.
Kiara dips her head down to lick at Harry's heavy balls, she then continues her way up to his shaft until she makes her way to his tip and suctions her lips around the pink swollen flesh.
Harry looks down at the Kiara, who is giving him those innocent eyes, as if she doesn’t have his entire dick in her mouth
“Oh fuck me,” Harrys rolls his eyes, and lets his head fall onto the headboard.
“I will. But let me suck you off first.”
Kiara passes her thumb over his dick, and kisses all around the tip. She licks him up and down before taking him into her mouth entirely, making sure to make eye contact with him.
Harry places his hand gently over Kiara’s head, asking permission to touch her. She blinks at him signaling to him that it's okay.
He took a rough grip to Kiara’s brown curls, moving her head up and down in a steady rhythm.
“That's it,” he encourages as Kiara suckles on his tip. “Fucking hell.”
She pulls her mouth from Harry's length and gives him a few sharp tugs.
“Slow down,” Harry pants. “Want to be inside of you when I come. Can you handle it?”
Kiara swings one leg around Harry’s lap, her core just inches away from Harry’s throbbing dick.
“Yeah I can.”
“Well what are you waiting for?”
Kiara slowly slides down on Harry’s dick, and his hands cling to the sides of hips, coaxing her on her way down. Harry groans at how tight and snug she feels around him.
Kiara is about halfway down when the blissful feeling starts to hit her. She tightens her grip on Harry’s shoulders biting her bottom lip.
“What's wrong? Thought you said you could handle it.”
Bravely, in one push Kiara glides right down Harry’s dick.
Harry groans with pleasure as soon as she makes it all the way down. His hands go out to grip her ass, and help her bounce up and down.
“That's it. Good girl. You like it when I call you that?”
“Yes,” Kiara responds, picking up her speed so that her tits move up and down with her.
“What do you want me to call you? I can call you my good girl, a slut, or whore. Which one do you prefer?”
“A whore,” Kiara is slightly embarrassed at what this man is doing to her, but she is so wrapped up in the lust of the moment that she really couldn’t care less.
“You're my dirty little whore, hmmm?”
Harry cranes his neck down to place a kiss on her tongue, lapping his tongue over her soft skin that smells like a floral scented perfume. He moans softly into her neck and squeezes at her fleshy hips.
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I’m your dirty little whore,” Out of nowhere Harry thrust his hips up to meet hers. “Fuck, Harry!”
Harry placed a wet kiss behind her hair before speaking, “How about you get on your hands and knees for me. I can fuck you like that.”
“Okay,” Kiara withdraws herself from him with ease due to how wet she was. She props herself on her hands and knees and arches her back for Harry.
Harry places a hand on her lower back. He rubs the tip of his dick over her wet folds before pushing in.
Harry moves slowly at first, testing out the waters to make sure he isn’t hurting her. Her sweet moans are only egging Harry on, and he is sure he isn’t gonna last another five minutes inside of her.
“Please Harry. Fuck me faster please.”
Harry hands grips on Kiara's fleshy love handles. It is a little tight for her liking however the pain is quickly drowned out by the intense pleasure she begins to feel.
This is a dirty shag. Harry is pounding into her at such an extreme pace that Kiara can’t even get a full moan out. Her little “uhhhh’s” and “nggggs” only encourage Harry on.
Kiara’s orgasm hits her first and it's just as blissful as she thought it would be. Legs trembling, her arms are no longer propping herself up, instead her right cheek is pushed up on the bed, and a bit of salvia is foaming out of her mouth.
“I’m gonna, oh god Kiara. Just give me a sec- fuck!”
Harry’s orgasm shortly follows and it's just as euphoric for him as it was for Kiara. This was one of the most satisfying sexual encounters Harry has had in a while and he wants to enjoy every second of being buried in Kiara’s warmth.
Harry was about to pull out from her but when he looked down at where they were connecting he realized how fucked he was.
Not only did he not wear a condom, but he most definitely came inside of her.
“Fuck,” Harry mumbles under his breath.
How could he be so careless? This has never happened to him. Harry has had quite the extent of sexual partners and he makes sure to always use a condom.
He wants to blame it on the wine but he didn’t even finish his glass.
“I need a second,” Kiara tiredly whispers, panting.
“I didn’t use a condom.”
“I’m sorry?” Kiara says still coming down from her high.
Harry runs his hand through his tangled hair nervously, “I didn’t use a condom. I haven’t had sex in almost a year though. I get tested regularly too. I’m sorry it just slipped my mind. I can run out and get you some plan B.”
“It's okay,” Kiara responds. She turns her head around to look at Harry. “Do you mind pulling out now though?”
Harry looks down at his dick, and then looks up at Kiara. “Oh yeah shit uhh.” He grabs on to Kiara’s hips and slowly pulls out of her.
“I haven’t had sex in like six months by the way,” Kiara slowly turns herself around to face Harry who has now tucked himself back in his boxers. “It could be longer honestly… it's been pretty dry here until now.”
“Yeah, same. Busy with work and what not.”
There is a moment of uncomfortable silence. Kiara has the sheets up to her bare breast, and Harry is not only taking in the raw beauty of the girl in front of him, and still beyond shocked he forgot to put on a damn condom.
“Well, I can get you some plan B. I think there is like a Target down the block from your apartment.”
“No, it's fine!” Kiara responds way too quickly. “I mean like, Trina has a stash in her car. I can steal from her in the morning. You don't have to rush out if you don’t want to. It’s not safe to drive at night, and you probably have such a long way to go.”
“You want me to stay?”
“Is that a bad thing?”
Harry shakes his head. “No...errr it's not. I would really like to stay.”
“Okay well I’m gonna pee. And clean myself up. I can bring you some water?”
“Water would be great.”
Kiara nods at him, standing up so that her white sheet is wrapped tightly around her body. She knows that there is no reason to hide from Harry. He just took her from behind and called her a whore, but Harry isn’t just any man. He is a man who looks like a greek god, and fucks like one too. So Kiara couldn’t help but be a little self conscious.
Kiara quickly comes back with two glasses of water. She has even changed into an old ratty T-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear.
Kiara hands Harry a glass and he takes a sip, “You know,” she starts, crawling into bed next to him. “If you told me you fuck like that maybe I wouldn’t have put up a fight at the cafe.”
Harry blushes, setting the glass on the nightstand next to him. “Didn’t plan this, you know. Not that I mind. Trust me, I like this.”
“I would be lying if I didn’t say I thought you were cute.”
“Oh,” Harry playfulls wiggles his eyebrows, scooting himself closer to Kiara on the bed. “Please do tell me more.”
Kiara pouts at Harry until he places a kiss on her bottom lip, another sloppy wet one on her cheek. He grabs at her sides, tickling her.
“Har- Harry! Stop, please!” Kiara begins to laugh uncontrollably. She even attempts to pull Harry’s enormous hands from her body but has no luck.
“Okay, okay,” she gives up, Harry pulling his hands off of her. “It was the whole curly hair, suit thing. I love a man in a suit, and you know you got an Americano. You have good taste in coffee.”
Harry smiles. “You make good coffee.”
Kiara hums awkwardly, not making eye contact with Harry, instead opting to stare at his mermaid tattoo with abnormally large tits.
“I like your hair too,” Harry speaks up. “It frames your face nicely. It was the first thing I noticed about you.” Harry’s ringed hands make their way to the top of Kiara’s thigh, rubbing her soft skin. “Then it was all the pins you had on your apron. You have a lot.”
“Oh. Yeah I’ve been collecting them over the years.”
“You had one that said, ‘Don’t be a damn.’ What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure,” Kiara shrugs, breathing out a relaxed sigh. “It was like my third year of undergrad. I studied abroad at the University Of Edinburgh, in Scotland and this guy who had a jewelry shop said it to me. The next day I came back he just gave me the pin and told me to always keep it with me.”
Harry smiles at Kiara with adornment, “I have family in Scotland. I’m from London though. Grew up there with my mum most of my life.”
“What brought you to New York then?”
“School then work. I went to Columbia,” Harry says, giving her the shortest answer possible. “I noticed you had it on your sweater earlier…. You know before you tore it off.”
“Shut up!” Kiara groans, striking Harry’s chest. “But yes I do go to Colombia. Just for my teaching credentials. I want to teach history.”
There is a beast of silence. “Are you sure if I stay the night? I don't want to intrude-”
“I want you to stay the night.”
Harry’s heart warms because no girl has ever said that to him. The feeling of butterflies swarming around in his tummy has come back, and he knows his cheeks are heating up in embarrassment.
“Alright.” Harry pulls Kiara’s body closer to him which makes her squeal in surprise. “Only if you keep me warm for the night.
+++
Harry is awake before Kiara.
Harry is used to waking up early for his job, and usually, he would be on his way to get his morning coffee and then head on down to the club.
However, he just can't leave the girl he just fucked last night.
Her breaths are short, and he can feel her heart thumping against his chest. She was properly attached to him, and Harry really liked it. Having her this close to him.
He takes the time while Kiara was asleep to not only watch her sleep peacefully but look at all the artwork she has displayed on her walls. There are no family pictures that Harry can spot, just a picture of her and Trina on her desk. It looks like they are at some club. Trina has a drink in her hand that looks like she is about to spill and Kiara is downing a shot.
Kiara stirs a bit in her sleep and Harry watches as she slowly blinks her eyes open.
“You're warm.” She blinks. “Do you want breakfast?” Kiara offers, nuzzling herself in the crook of Harry’s neck. “I make a really good omelet.”
Harry laughs. “Kiara I really can’t keep up with you.”
Kiara begins to innocently pepper kisses all over Harry’s neck. “What do you mean?” she pouts.
Harry groans once Kiara sucks on a sensitive right beneath his jawline. “For starters, you didn’t like me at all when we first met. Then we fucked because you claimed I was here just for sex. And now you are offering to make me an omelet.”
“What are you here for then?” Kiara presses.
Harry sighs, looking down at the pretty girl all tangled up in his arms. Harry knows exactly what he wants. He is twenty-seven and he is really looking for love. A life-long partner who he can come home to after a hard day at work. A partner who makes getting up in the morning all worth it. Someone who he can take out on dates, maybe even take to meet his brother.
He wants to take a leap of faith with Kiara. He wants to ask her on a date, however, he can’t bring himself to do that. He doesn’t want to put this girl in harm’s way because he likes her.
And it's not even about Kiara getting hurt. He would never let anything physically happen to the people he cares about in his life. It’s honestly about the hurt she would experience if something happened to him.
“I-”
Harry is interrupted by Trina barging into the bedroom.
“We will be late for the train if you don't get your ass up! You always sleep in--” Trina pauses once she realizes her best friend is wrapped up in her other best friend’s arms. “Oh fuck.” Trina points back to the door. “I’ll wait outside for you.”
“Shit,” Kiara grumbles to herself. “I forgot I had work.”
Harry watches as Kiara frantically pulls her underwear up her body. When she realizes Harry is staring at her, she turns around to slide on her black lace bra.
Harry isn’t trying to be that much of a dick, staring at Kiara while she is getting changed. It's just that her ass is littered with marks from his heavy handy, and a light bruise on her loved handles from holding her securely on his lap, while he pounded into her.
The bruises were tainted with the memory of last night, and Harry notices how every little mark told the story of their rough and passionate sex. Looking back on it Harry doesn’t know if he was too rough with the young girl. He doesn’t like that it was possible that he may have hurt her.
“You need to go,” Kiara demands, pulling her jeans on, and then her white shirt.
Harry picked up his white button-up shirt off the floor and threw it over his shoulder. “Kiara, was I too rough? Maybe you should put something on the bruises--”
“I’m going to be late for work Harry,” she snaps.
“Are you mad?”
Tears well up in Kiara’s eyes and this is very unusual for her. She never cries. She is not even sure why she is crying. She pauses for a moment not answering his questions.
“I’m fine,” Kiara answers with her back still facing away from Harry.
“You’re crying, Kiara.”
“I’m not!” Kiara yelled, throwing her hands up in the air turning around. “I- I’m just a little overwhelmed.” Kiara’s breath gets caught in the back of her throat. “I have school, and I work full time, and I’m interning at this elementary school...and that…” Kiara points to the bed. “That was the best sex I have ever had, and now I look like a complete freak.” She wipes a tear with the back of her hand. “I look like a complete freak because all we did was have sex and now I’m crying. It doesn’t have much to do with you I think. I’m just a little stressed.”
That was a complete lie and Kiara knows it. At this moment, she could care less about school or the stress of work. Its that empty feeling you have after sex knowing that this isn’t a forever thing. Harry will go back to being Harry, and she will go back to being Kiara. It is simply just sex...nothing more.
Harry gets off the bed in just his unbuttoned shirt and boxers. He tests the waters by placing a comforting hand on her back. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Just show yourself out please.” Kiara walks away from Harry’s hold, grabbing a scrunchie off her desk, and her purse. “I have to go.”
Harry doesn’t stop her. He knows that if he stops her he is gonna want to kiss her. Then he is gonna convince her to come back to bed with him, and he can’t do that. For her sake.
+++
“Are we not gonna talk about it?” Trina asks while she is driving her SUV.
Trina and Kiara usually take the subway together. It works out much cheaper for the both of them, but they can’t be late for work. Not during the Monday rush. Kiara is in the passenger seat pulling up her hair and frantically covering up a few hickies on her neck from last night. Trina is driving just a little bit above the speed limit, trying to make sure they both get there on time, and also worrying about her best friend who isn’t her usual bubbly self.
“There is nothing to talk about, other than I need some plan B,” Kiara replies dryly.
“You're joking.”
“Nope. Pass me your purse.”
Trina keeps one hand on the wheel and hands Kiara her purple purse from the back seat.
“Kiara you had sex with my best friend. Unprotected sex.”
“Exactly just sex,” Kiara shruged, digging up the pill from the bottom of Trina’s bag. “And I’m your best friend!”
“You are both my best friends!” Trina argued. “You know the poor boy actually likes you right?”
Kiara rolls her eyes. “Did he tell you that?”
“Yes! Actually, he did! More than once!”
“He is lying. I’m just a normal broke student. And him? He is a fucking rich man but he looks like a literal greek god! Trina you know I googled him. His past girlfriends are models! White, skinny blonde models. I’m not white, skinny, or blonde!”
“He was a party boy in the past!” Trina retorts. “He likes you, okay? He just has trouble communicating his feelings. I know you like him too. You just have this strange idea in your head that you are not good enough for him! Which is ridiculous.”
“It's whatever,” Kiara huffs, pooping the pill in her mouth and swallowing it, “It was a hook-up. A simple one night stand.”
“It’s okay to want something more Kiara.”
“He doesn’t want something more! It's so painfully obvious,” Kiara throws her hands up in the air.
Trina knows how stubborn her best friend is. It's why they get along so well. They both have this hot headed temperament. However, Kiara never really likes to give herself time to relax. She likes to be busy but it is clearly taking a toll on her mental health.
“Let me take you out drinking after work.”
Kiara turned her head towards her friend and smiled. “Thank you. Now we are speaking my language.”
+++
While Kiara’s working, a part of her secretly wishes that Harry would show up for his americano. She is trying her hardest to convince herself that he is not worth her energy or time, but the sex is still fresh in her mind and it doesn’t help that her body is showing evidence of what took place last night.
There is still that dull satisfying ache between her legs, the sound of Harry calling her a dirty whore plays on rewind all day. She is practically daydreaming about having sex with Harry again while making coffee.
Harry was the first man to meet her needs in that manner. Sure she has cum during sex a couple times, but it wasn’t anything mindblowing. In fact her orgasms were usually underwhelming, but with Harry he knew what he was doing. His dominance was a complete turn on.
And sure Kiara could be fuck buddies with Harry. But she thinks she deserves a little more than just casual hookups. She wants a relationship because at the end of the day, she wants to build a family. A family that makes up for her broken one.
Kiara has sat down and contemplated this before. Is it inherently selfish to want to fix her childhood trauma with a family of her own, but fuck. Can you really blame her?
+++
When Kiara gets home she quickly changes into a simple black dress. It hugs her curves nicely and it's the dress she usually pulls out when she used to go clubbing with Trina (which has come to a halt because of her pregnancy).
The subway ride to the club is filled with laughter and Trina having to help Kiara actually get on and off the train (because she pregamed at the apartment).
Once they got to the club, Trina walks up to the front of the line with Kiara.
The bouncer's eyes lit up as soon as he saw Trina, “Hi Trina. Umm, should I tell Harry you are here? James is also here too. I can let him know as well.”
“Harry is here?” Kiara questions.
Trina whispers in her ear, “Yes, this is his club.”
“I’m gonna need more drinks if I have to look at his stupid face again.”
Trina playfully rolls her eyes, “Yes, you can let James and Harry know we are both here.”
The bouncer pulls out his walkie talkie and opens the door for Trina and Kiara.
Kiara supports herself on Trina’s arm as they walk into the club, “You didn’t tell me we were going to Harry’s club?”
“I know, I thought you might put up a fight about it.”
She probably would have put up a fight about it, however she wouldn’t actually mind seeing Harry's stupid, beautiful looking face again.
The club itself is beautiful. The ceilings are covered with mirrors, and hanging down from them were stunning crystal chandeliers. The chairs are red, and glass tables are placed strategically in each booth. There is also a bar with some red stools, and a huge red door near it.
“What’s back there?” Kiara asks.
“The strip club. But we don't need to go over there. C’mon you wanted some wine, didn’t you?”
Trina and Kiara made their way to the bar and a heavily tattooed girl with a name tag that says Drew is working on the opposite side of the counter mixing drinks.
“Hey, Trina! What are you doing here? You can’t drink.”
“It’s for my friend, Kiara.” Trina gestures to her Kiara, who drunkenly waves back at Drew “She will take some wine, something sweet. I’ll just have some sprite”
Drew grabs a wine glass and puts it on the table before walking away. “Coming right up”
“James is that new guy you are seeing, right?”
“Yes. He works for Harry.”
Kiara has heard Trina mention James on multiple occasions. She even thinks he has come to the cafe a couple of times for lunch, but Kiara can’t put a name to the face. She is unsure if Trina and James are dating, but she is not sure how far she should pry. She does briefly remember Trina telling her that James does not care about Trina being pregnant. In fact Trina told her one day during their thirty minute break at work that James is just happy to be a part of Trina’s family.
“Mhmm. So Harry owns this club?” Kiara asks, taking a sip from her wine that Drew provided for her.
“Yeah. He owns a few more too. I believe it's a family business or something?”
Kiara sighs before downing the rest of her wine. “Just eat the fucking rich already.”
“Kiara? Trina?”
Kiara spins around on her chair, holding up her second glass of wine that Drew had given her and made eye contact with Harry.
He looks breathtaking. Hair neatly combed out of his face, tailored suit, ring decorated fingers that Kiara thought was repulsive, but now she can't stop thinking about how they feel against her heat.
“Trina, it's Wednesday,” Harry sternly told her, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose, slowly breathing in and out, trying not to lose his temper at his best friend.
“Are you not happy to see me?” Kiara says, standing up. She almost trips on her heels but Harry grabs her arm.
Kiara places her hand on Harry’s cheek. “I know you have to be happy to see me. You don’t fuck someone like that unless you hate them or love them. And who could hate me?”
“Okay!” Trina chippers up, grabbing her friend and bringing her back to the barstool. “Maybe we should get some water in you, okay?”
Harry is flustered because way too much is happening at once. Harry has told Trina multiple times that Wednesdays are not a good time to show up at the club. He has his meetings on Wednesday, and dangerous people are always floating in and out of the club talking business with Harry. He just wants to keep Trina and Kiara safe.
“Drew put all their drinks on my tab,” he tells the dark-haired bartender. “Trina, did you drive here?”
“No, we took the subway,” Trina answered.
Harry sighed frustratingly. “Okay. I'll take you two home. Just don’t leave here until I come get you.”
“Harry,” Trina starts. “I'm sure we will be fine. It’s not that big of a deal. James is here anyways--”
“Trina please.”
It's the crack in Harry's voice that caused Kiara to stop drinking her wine and look up at him.
Trina shoots Harry a look of sympathy. “Okay fine. We will stay here until you're done.”
Harry exhales the air he was holding in, a nervous habit he is still trying to break. “Okay. I will be done soon.”
“What's got his panties in a twist?” Kiara snorts as Harry walks away.
“I’m not sure actually,” Trina responds. “He is always stressed at work. I’ve been trying to get him to take a break for ages, but pulling that man away from his job is an impossible task.”
“He always seems so tense.”
Trina laughs, “Yeah maybe you can help him with that.”
“Well I see you have been helping his fellow associate...James.” Kiara wiggles her eyebrows at Trina.
Trina dramatically sighs. “Don’t even get me started on him.”
“What? I thought things were going great!”
“They are!” Trina assures Kiara. “But I’m still not sure what he wants. I’m pregnant and thirty. I really don’t want to fool around anymore. I want to settle down. The baby is coming soon and I won't have time for hookups and flings. He says he doesn’t mind that I’m pregnant, but he hasn’t said he wants a relationship with me.”
“Why don’t you just be upfront with him and ask?”
“Because I don’t want to scare him off!”
“You deserve someone who is upfront with their feelings, Trina. You are never gonna know until you ask.”
Trina sticks her index finger in Kiara’s face. “I’m not doing shit until you figure out what's going on with you and Harry.”
“Fine I’ll admit. The dick is good.”
Trina squealed. “I knew it, you filthy whore!”
“I'm just a little nervous. What if he is just hooking up with me for some weird black girl fetish? What if he is a racist?”
“I can tell you that's not Harry.”
“Am I ready for this?”
Trina takes a sip of her sprite. “I dunno. You know the answer to that question, not me.”
“Well I don’t know, and you don’t know. So that's my cue to keep drinking.”
Trina rolls her eyes and is about to tell Drew that this will be Kiara’s last glass of red wine until she makes eye contact with a man walking towards them.
“Fuck,” Trina grabs her purse then grabbed Kiara’s wrist. “Don’t talk to him okay? Just don’t look at him and maybe he will go away--”
“Trina... Haven’t seen you in a while.” The man's voice is heavy and dark. When Kiara looked up at him the first thing she noticed is that he is extremely well dressed, with a bling out watch on his wrist. “Who is the lovely lady you brought with you?”
“Leave her alone Dorian.” Trina says.
“What's your name?” The man reaches out to touch Kiara’s lower back but she flinches away.
“Don't touch me! Who do you think you are?”
He raises an eyebrow at her. “Feisty. Pretty too. You are one of Harry’s girls?”
“Excuse me? One of whose girls?”
“Are you not a dancer for the club?” the man asks in a condescending town that sets Kiara off.
“Oh hell no. You know damn well I’m clearly not stripping so what is it that you want from me?”
Trina leans into Kiara’s ear. “Kiara please leave it alone,” She grabs her wrist but Kiara quickly pulls it out of her grasp. “Let's just go.”
“No, let the girl talk Trina. She has quite a mouth on her anyway. Maybe she can put it to a much better use.”
Slap
Kiara’s hand connects with Dorian’s face before Trina could stop her. Trina knows her friend has a temper but so does Dorian. The slap slightly echoes over the music and gains a few people's attention including Drew, who stops mixing her drink and keeps her eyes on Dorian, who clenches his jaw and fixes his suit on his shoulders, trying to regain his composure.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters quietly.
“And what the fuck are you gonna… Ow!” Dorian roughly grabs Kiara wrist and drags her towards him.
He holds her hand above her head. “You don’t know who you are messing with. Do I need to show you?”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Kiara begins to squirm. “Let go of me before I kick you in the crotch--”
“Hmmmm. Maybe I should teach you a lesson. Don’t think Harry would mind if I borrowed one of his girls.”
“Refer to me as one of Harry’s girls one more time and I will do more than just slap you.”
“Dorian. Let her go.” Kiara’s eyes float from the man holding her wrist to Harry who is stalking up to her with a man right next to him. His voice was deep and assertive. Something Kiara never thought Harry to be other than when he was in bed.
Dorian lets Kiara’s wrist go and she stumbles back a bit towards Trina.
“Harry!” Dorian loudly greets. “I was just telling one of your whores she needs to watch that mouth of hers.”
“She is not a dancer, Dorian.”
“Oh, is she not? Such a shame,” Dorians eyes shamelessly rake Kiara up and down. “With a body like that I’m sure she could attract some clients for you.”
Kiara launches at Dornian but Harry is quick to grab her this time pulling her into his chest.
“Behave. Please,” he whispers in her ear.
“Dorian, you need to go.”
“Harry, you know better than that. Came here for my money. Come here every Wednesday to get my payment.”
“Well, you're not getting it today. Come by tomorrow.”
“Funny you say that since you know the history between me and your father--”
“I don't give a fuck about the history between you and my father!” Harry seethes stepping closer to Dorian. “You don’t see him here do you? I made you a deal. You will get your money, just not tonight. You don’t get to threaten my friends and then just demand money.”
“You don’t want to test me boy--”
“No, you don't want to test me. Not tonight. Leave.”
Dorian smirks at Harry before raising his hands up in defeat. “I’ll be here tomorrow. If you don’t have my money there will be problems.”
Harry watches Dorian walk fully out the door before turning to Trina and Kiara. “Both of you. My car now.”
“What just happened?” Kiara questions.
“Trina just take her to the car.”
+++
The car ride back to Kiara’s apartment is silent. Kiara sits in the back confused as to why Trina and Harry kept whispering to each other. A whole conversation is happening and Kiara’s trying to keep up, but she can only get bits and pieces of what the two are saying.
“I might be still drunk but I can hear you know.” That is a lie.
Harry’s eyes glance up to the rear view mirror. “Are you okay Kiara? He didn’t hurt you right?”
“No but I did hurt him. Slapped him. And if you didn’t come and interrupt I was about to kick him in the balls.” Kiara hiccups at the end of her sentence.
“She is right,” Trina agrees. “She is more of a fighter than she leads on to be.”
“Exactly!” Kiara yells. “So if you would have given me the chance I would have fucked him up.”
Harry, who was clenching his hand at the wheel during the whole drive, lets go and smiles. “I believe you Kiara.”
+++
Harry makes sure to walk Trina into her apartment safely, before helping Kiara to hers which was a challenge in itself because she can’t even walk in a straight line.
“Woah,” Harry says, wrapping his strong arms around Kiara’s waist trying to keep her balance. “How about you sit down on the bed?”
Harry helps Kiara walk into her bedroom and he slowly sits her down on her bed. Her hair is completely ruined, her dress slightly bunched up at her hips and her lips gloss slightly smudged. Harry thinks she looks beautiful. He is staring a little too long before he realizes he should help her take off her heels.
He gets down on one knee and his fingers begin to work on the claps of Kiara’s heels until she wraps her leg around Harry’s neck and pulls him closer to her thigh.
“Wine makes me horny.”
“I know,” Harry pushes himself away from her, no matter how tempting she looks, and goes back to undoing her heels. “But I think it would be smart if I get you to bed.”
“Why was that guy asking you for money?”
“Asking me anything but that.”
“Okay. Did you mean it?”
Harry slides one heel off her foot and looks up at her. “Mean what?”
“When we met.” He grabs Kiara’s other foot. “You said I was pretty. You meant it?”
Harry is silent for a couple seconds, his voice low. “Of course. Why would I be lying about that?”
Kiara shrugs as Harry glides her shoe off. “Guys are assholes. Well most guys are.”
“Mhmm. Where can I find some clothes for you?”
“Top drawer.” Kiara points at her dresser right in front of her bed. Harry walks over to get some clothes and places them on the side of her bed. “When I moved here I hooked up with this one guy from my class. I thought there was something going on between us ya know? He was nice at first. So I was gonna ask him if he wanted to go on a date because well, at that point we were hooking up. Turns out he had a girlfriend.”
“Sounds like a dick. Can I unzip your dress?”
Kiara nods her head and stands up hastily, turning around so her back is facing Harry. “I feel like I’m never good enough to be the girlfriend.” Harry listens closely as he zips Kiara’s dress slowly. Her delicate skin has goosebumps on it. When he gets all the way down to the top of her butt he pushes the dress off her shoulders, and allows her to step out of it.
“I’m good enough to hook up with. But never good enough to meet the parents or keep around longer than a couple weeks.” She turns around to face Harry, and grabs the shirt he picked out for her, throwing it over her head, and ignoring the pair of sweats he brought her, opting to stay in her underwear.
“So do you find me pretty in a fuckable way? Or do you find me pretty enough to keep me around longer than a few weeks?”
“Do you want me to answer that? Because you are really drunk, and my goal isn’t to scare you off.”
“Yes please,” she hiccups. “If you want to fuck around lets just be up front about it. Think I’ve gotten my hopes up about too many guys and I just wanna know.”
“Well I always think it's time for me to settle down,” Harry explains to her. “I’m twenty seven and my mum will not stop bugging me about it.” He laughs but Kiara stays silent. “I guess dating is just a bit confusing for me.”
“Confusing?” Kiara questions, tugging at the bottom of her shirt to make sure it is covering her butt.
“I really didn’t expect to be around this long. I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff Kiara, stuff that I really shouldn’t have done because it put my life at jeopardy. I think I never settled down because I didn’t think I was able to.”
“And what about now? Do you think you can settle down.”
Harry inhales and exhales quickly. “I’m not sure.”
“Okay.” Kiara turns her back to Harry and walks to her bed. She is definitely disappointed in his answer, but she knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep seeing you Kiara,” Harry quickly responds, breathlessly. “I want to take you to dinner.”
“You don’t have to pity me Harry-”
“I’m not pitying you,” Harry cuts her off. “I like you Kiara. You're a nice girl, beautiful too, and I mean that. My life can be… menacing to say the least. I like you enough not to drag you into my bullshit.”
Kiara tiredly rubs her eyes with the back of her hands. “What exactly is the bullshit?”
“It's my family business and my family… Well, they are interesting people.” That is all Harry could tell her without explicitly saying, “Instead of going into finance with my business degree from Columbia, I had to join my dad’s mafia and fix all his mistakes while he lives in a mansion, even though all I have ever wanted was to have absolutely nothing to do with the “‘family business.’”
“You seem like you don’t want to talk about it.” Kiara is now sitting with her knees up to her chest on her bed and Harry is towering over her small frame.
“No. I’m not a big fan of my past. But I want to get to know you, and you can get to know me. I’m busy with work, and sometimes it's hard for me to open up, but I’d really appreciate it if we took this slow.”
Kiara pouts. “So that means I can’t convince you to stay the night? Even if I suck you off?”
Harry smiles at her. “No.” He places a kiss on her forehead. “But I will come get you tomorrow at seven for dinner. Does that work?”
“Yes it does. Thanks for bringing me home tonight.”
“Anytime. I mean that.”
Kiara flips over to her side, hands resting underneath her head. “Drive safe.”
Harry is unsure about his life. In fact he is unsure about leaping into this with Kiara. He knows they aren’t dating, and that's good for him. He needs time to figure out his life. He knows if he wants to be in Kiara’s life, he has to pay off his fathers debt’s and get out of the mafia, or else he will never truly have the life he wants.
Right now, he can see a future with Kiara. He can see himself waking up next to her, making breakfast. He can see himself enjoying a domestic life with her.
He knows he can’t have that right now. But he sure is gonna work like hell for it. For her.
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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years
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So I’m a dark skin girl and I always wonder is Harry gets involved with women that are not white skinny tall blonde model like all his exes. Can u write something about that? Maybe they are friends but reader is into him but keeps us to herself cause she is sure he only date the same type of girls.
Feelings
A/N: I really needed and wanted to write this one. I feel like us chocolate girlies can be a bit left out some times, and it sucks. So I want to do/write more things that are specifically tailored to us black girls because we need to see and read more of it. Also, I don’t want this to be a thing where it’s putting anyone down or being melodramatic towards things that are at the end of the day out of our control. But this is just the way that some people (including myself at times) feel, and everyone should be aware of this. I did made sure that there is something in here that everyone can relate to in some way. So I hope you guys enjoy🙃 
4.5k Words
You rarely opened up. Most of your relationships were surface level, and you never fully expressed yourself the way that one would normally. For the longest time, even since you were a child, you never fully opened up to anyone. You would just go about your normal routine as if everything were fine, and bottle up everything you were feeling. Even when you were going through some of the worst times of your life, you still managed to keep face and put on a display of being okay, even though you were on the verge of dying inside. Still, you were able to get through most of your life like this and you were fine with things being the way they were. That is, until a certain someone fell into your life. 
When you first met Harry, it was like a breath of fresh air. Even though you still had your wall up and didn’t feel the urge to fully express yourself, you still felt like you could come to him with everything if you wanted to. He was just like the other people you’d met in the past who were nice and willing to get close to you. But at the same time, he still managed to be different than anyone you’d met in the past. You felt a sense of closeness to him that you couldn’t readily explain and that was unlike anyone you’d met before. He made you want to express yourself and release all of the emotions you had pent up inside of you for what felt like forever. It was like he was the person that you needed in your life who could draw out these things out of you. And after a period of time, he was in fact able to do this. 
At first, you were beyond anxious to be open and honest to someone about your feelings. But over time, the wall you’d built began to come down and you just allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Harry. And he was able to do the same. You both were able to lower your guards around each other and actually be free. The two of you were able to create a strong and solid friendship that would span across almost 3 years. Whenever something happened in each others lives, you both were each others first call. It was a friendship that neither of you wanted to take for granted. And you both, especially you, made sure to appreciate every moment and each other. 
Your appreciation for Harry went a bit deeper though.  
 You guys’ overall dynamic in the past year hadn’t changed at all. You two still did just about everything together and had a great time in each others company. It was your personal flow that had undergone a drastic change. You began to develop feelings that had gone far beyond the boundary of being platonic. They’d grown to be something beyond the scope of a simple camaraderie. You started to develop romantic feelings for your best friend. It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen, it was normal for someone to develop these feelings towards a person they spent a lot of time with and are close to. It was just that the success rate for transitioning out of a loving, close, and healthy friendship to a loving, romantic, and healthy relationship was slim to none. And for you and particular, you felt like your chances were in the negatives. 
It’s already a rough thing to deal with when you find out that the person you have feelings for doesn’t feel the same way towards you. But these pangs of rejection are on a completely different level when you realize that you’re not even their type. Now you didn’t know for a fact what Harry’s “type” was. You’d asked him on separate occasions and his answer was always the same. He’d simply tell you that “if somethings there, then it’s worth a shot”. And you’d always respond with a “that makes sense”, deciding to not go there all together. Even though he said that he didn’t have a type, you knew that in his subconscious, he did in fact have one. There were things about you that didn’t at all align with his exes as a whole. If you had to be blunt, you weren’t skinny, tall, blonde, and white. You were a thick, average in height, dark haired, dark skinned, black woman. The differences between the two were uncanny and that was perfectly fine. You welcomed and celebrated everyones differences. And so did Harry; when it wasn’t his love life.
He just didn’t venture out into other things when it came to his love and personal life. You could honestly say that this was true because you watched it all from the sidelines. You were a bystander and sounding board to Harry during his most recent relationship, and just in general. You recognized the pattern in the women he’d choose to pursue. You’ve even seen in the magazines and on the internet, the people he’d been involved with in the past. And they all were extremely similar. 
Seeing all of this made you think that something was wrong with you. What made them so special? You just wanted him to look at you the same way he looked at them. Developing all of these newfound feelings caused you to begin to slip back into your old ways. You began holding in and internalizing everything when it came to this. You’d put on a brave face and act as if everything was okay. You were putting all of your energy into making Harry believe that you were fine. And you successfully did that. He had no clue as to what and how you were feeling, and you wanted to keep it that way. The last thing you wanted to do was lose the person who not only you cared deeply about, but the person who cared deeply about you. You couldn’t lose your best friend.
This endless cycle went on for months. You kept these feelings to yourself and you just kept things going. You hated doing this, but it was what you thought was the best for you. You hated the thought of losing Harry over this. But at the end of the day, you could only take but so much. You could relate this entire thing to a sponge. It takes in all the water it possibly can and eventually, little drops will begin to spill out when it’s reached its maximum capacity for water. You were the sponge. You had been internalizing or harboring all of these feelings for such a long period of time that eventually you were going to reach your tipping point. It was going to get to a place where you’d have to release all of it and tell Harry how you truly felt. And you really wanted to do that. In the past, talking about your feelings was something that you tried, and eventually swore you’d never do. You even tried therapy, but it just wouldn’t work for you. But with Harry, you wanted to talk to him and tell him how you felt. So keeping this inside for so long after not holding it all in for a little over two years was a definite struggle. 
In all of this though, you had no idea that the struggle you faced in holding everything inside was nowhere near the level of struggle you faced when you finally let it all out. 
The end of the week had finally came which meant that it was you and Harry’s night to hang out and talk about you guys’ week…even though you two talked just about everyday. This just gave you two an excuse to hang out. After you two made and ate dinner, you two decided to head outside and sit by the pool to enjoy Harry’s view and watch the sunset. The conversation between the two of you seamlessly bounced from subject to subject, and it managed to bounce all the way to relationships. 
“Any hot dates comin’ up?” Harry asks beside you, taking another swig from his glass of wine.
  “No. None that I know of at least. You?” You reply, redirecting the question back to him. 
“Me neither, but I have been talking to someone for the past couple of days.” Harry replies. 
“And you haven’t told me this?! As your best friend, I feel offended.” You joke with him, sitting up from the chair to get a better look at him. 
“Don’t be offended, you’ll always be my number one.” Harry coos with a laugh. “It’s nothing major or serious I guess.” He continues. 
“Got a picture?” You ask. Asking him this was a big mistake. 
“I think so.” Harry replies, pulling his phone out of his pocket. After a few seconds, he hands the phone over to you and there it was. A girl who looked exactly like everyone else he’s dated.
“Oh, she looks just like everyone else you’ve dated.” You hum amusedly, handing the phone back to him. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have said that. But you had a pretty good buzz going from the drinks Harry made, and the glass of wine you were currently working with. So your lips were a little bit looser than normal. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asks with a very confused tone.
“No offense, but she looks like most of your exes.” You repeat, thinking back to the picture Harry just showed you.
“No she does not.” Harry says adamantly, brushing off your comment. 
“It’s okay Harry, we all know that you have a type.” You softly laugh. You were only teasing him...right?
“I do not have a type Y/n! Where is this coming from?” You could hear in his voice that he was genuinely confused. 
“This is coming from your best friend who’s seen you in a relationship with someone who not only looks like the girl you just showed me, but also girls before her.” You explain. 
“Well tell me these similarities because I’m still not following.” 
“Tall, skinny, blonde, and-“ You didn’t even think about the last and final one before saying it. “white.” You finish, listing off every last similarity. 
 “No they’re no-“ Harry couldn’t even finish his own sentence. He realized that it was in fact true. He didn’t know why he’d never seen the pattern before. He also couldn’t wrap his head around why you were so up and arms about it. When he looked at you, he could tell that you weren’t feeling the best about this conversation. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or him just being really bad at comprehension. He just wanted to make sense of it all and where it was coming from. 
“Can you honestly say that I, or anyone that looks like me for that matter would have an equal shot at being with you?”
There it was. The crazy thing about it all was that the question you just asked him, wasn’t even the bulk of what you really wanted to tell him. You weren’t even expecting to talk to him about this at all. You thought that you’d have a little bit more time to collect your thoughts, but all of this came completely out of left field. 
Asking Harry that question, along with the entire conversation in general was like stabbing yourself in the heart. It wasn’t even a full conversation and you were already dying inside. Every second of silence from Harry that went by was like a twist to the knife that was already buried inside you. You wanted to blame Harry for the horrible way you were feeling, but you couldn’t. You wanted to blame yourself for even bringing it up, but you couldn’t do that either. All you could do was sit there and try your best to muster up the tiniest bit of strength to pick yourself up and leave. Your body felt extremely heavy and you just wanted to get out of there.
Without uttering a single word to Harry, you finally pick yourself up and you walk away from him and the entire situation. Harry was still trying to wrap his head around the idea that he did in fact have a type, but seeing you walk away from him like that crushed him. He felt like you were not only walking away from him, you were also walking out of his life. He felt absolutely crushed and completely helpless. He was all alone. He had so many thoughts and feelings running around in his head that he couldn’t even chase after you to help him figure them out. And by the time he would finally build up the strength and courage to go after you, you would’ve already been gone. 
When you walked back into the house, you didn’t waste any time gathering your belongings that you’d brought with you before leaving out the front door. Since you were drinking, you decided to just call an Uber and just come back to get your car in the morning. For the next 5 minuets, you just stood outside Harry’s home. Staring blankly at whatever was around, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes, and trying to take your mind off of everything. 
You were so glad that the driver wasn’t trying to engage in a conversation with you because you weren’t in the mood at all. You just wanted complete silence. If you were to talk, you were going to burst into tears. And the last thing you wanted to do was permanently scar your Uber driver, so you decided to just stay silent. 
When you finally got to your building, you rushed out a quick thank you to the driver and you sprinted through the building and up to your apartment. The moment you stepped foot inside was the first time you breathed in the past two hours. As soon as you shut your front door you just collapsed into a heaping pile of tears. You were pretty much sobbing against your front door. This was the worst you’d ever felt in a really long time. You felt a mixture of anger, sadness, and pain. This was one of the sole reasons why you hated letting people in. Bringing those walls down meant that you were exposed and vulnerable. You had no defense what so ever. You tore those walls down just to have someone tear you apart, and leave you to pick up the pieces. You were torn apart by the person you needed the most. 
While you were at home bawling your eyes out, Harry was still wrapping his mind around what you said and what he didn’t say. The buzz he once had going was now gone, and his mind was all over the place. He didn’t even move from where he was sitting. He just sat outside and thought about it all. Harry realized that he not only had a type, but you had feelings for him. He thought that you only considered him to be a close friend and nothing more. But when you said “I, or anyone who looks like me…” he was able to read in between the lines to understand that you were mainly talking about yourself. It crushed Harry even more when he thought about the possibility of you not thinking that you were good enough for him. Simply because of his “preferences”, that were unbeknownst to him from the past. The fact that he made you feel this way was beyond gut wrenching and he just wanted to go back in time and tell you that the only type he has is you. That was one of the reasons that he clung to you the way he did. He looked to you as the model of what he could ever want in a partner. He always looked to you for your opinions and guidance because you were one of the best people that had ever came into his life. But instead of saying all of this, what he truly felt deep down, he didn’t say anything at all. He let you slip out of his grasp, and he didn’t know how to get you back. He didn’t even know if he was going to get you back. In that moment, he realized that his love for you went way beyond the general scope of being best friends. It wasn’t until 2 am that Harry was able to pick himself up from the lounge chair outside and go upstairs to bed. And even then, he still felt horrible. He was numb. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t end up going to bed until 5 am because he couldn’t stop crying and worrying. What made him completely break down was the fact that he couldn’t even call you. He couldn’t talk to the one person that always helped him through his dark times and picked him up. He knew what it was like to hit rock bottom, but this was an all-time low for Harry. 
That night was officially at top of the list for the worst nights of you and Harry’s lives. 
The next day was just as bad, if not worse than the last. You ended up falling asleep on the couch, and Harry couldn’t even get out of bed. The both of you were a mess and you didn’t know what to do. You avoided any type of communication with each other. The only time you and Harry interacted was to tell him that you were using the gate code to get your car from his driveway. After that, there was radio silence. The simple thought of each other could bring you both to tears. This entire ordeal didn’t last for just a day or two. It lasted for almost a week. The both of you were too emotional and broken to even function. You were using the time you saved up on your job to sulk around at home and stay inside your bubble sadness and heartbreak. And Harry was neglecting all of the things that he needed to do so that he could stay in bed and try to take his mind off of you. But after what was going on to be day 5, Harry couldn’t take anymore of this. It wasn’t because he was feeling horrible. It was because Harry knew that he broke your heart. He had the clearest picture of you at home, completely broken up because of him. He could almost feel your pain and he hated it. He needed to tell you his true feelings and beg you to forgive him. He couldn’t sit around anymore and not talk to you. You were not only his best friend, you were also the woman that he loved. In the days of him sitting at home and thinking, he realized that he didn’t give it a shot. He didn’t give you a shot. He was constantly chasing after something that was already his and right in front of him. 
After a long much needed shower, Harry got himself dressed and ready to go over to your place. On the way over, Harry made a stop to the florist that was in your direction and picked up the biggest bouquet of sunflowers he could possibly buy. Not only were they your favorite flower, but you always seemed to gravitate towards the yellows because “they make my skin tone pop.” And they certainly did. Even remembering those little things could make Harry want to just burst into tears. For the rest of the drive to your apartment, Harry practiced all of the points he wanted to make out loud. He made sure that he remembered every last thing he wanted to say…and there was a lot. He was also preparing for the moment where you’d tell him that you didn’t want to talk to him ever again. Even though it may have seemed a bit extreme, he could understand why. He hurt you, and that’s the consequence that he’d have to pay. As he got closer and closer to your building, Harry could feel the butterflies in his stomach intensify and his lunch slowly make it’s way back up. He wasn’t feeling good at all, but he couldn’t turn his back on you and not try at all to redeem himself.
Between the time Harry got out of his car to when he was finally standing at your door was rough. As he got closer, his body got weaker. He was feeling a combination of embarrassment, sadness, anger, and worry. These feelings were so strong that he had to take two minuets before knocking on your door to stop himself from either throwing up or crying. Eventually he was able to get himself somewhat together and finally knock on your door.
When you hear the knock, you were sitting on your couch with your fluffy bathrobe on (that just so happened to be the one Harry brought you during one of his trips to Italy) with a pint of ice cream in hand, watching whatever was on the tv at the moment. You wanted to ignore the knock all together and just focus on your ice cream and the tv but you didn’t want to leave the person at the door hanging. So you reluctantly sit the cup down and you drag yourself to the door. When you look out through the peephole, your anxiety in that moment skyrockets. What in the world was Harry doing at your front door?! Even though you looked like an absolute mess and you didn’t want to talk to him in that moment, you still open the door for him.
When the door swings open and he sees you the waterworks begin all over again. He could see how puffy your face was from crying and how disheveled you looked and he hated it. He could feel the warm tears bubbling up in his eyes, but he was trying to do his best to keep them back. The two of you just stand there before Harry decides to talk. 
“M’so sorry Y/n.” That’s all he could say. He wasn’t just apologizing for what he said or didn’t say. He was also trying to say that he was a sorry person. It took him losing you for what felt like an eternity to really see how amazing you are and how much you contributed to his life.
“Wanna come in?” You ask him, stepping to the side to let him into your apartment. In that moment Harry just wanted to scoop you up into his arms and never let you go. He wanted to feel your warm and happy disposition that was now being clouded because of him. He wanted his Y/n back. When he walks inside, he quickly kicks his shoes off at the door and follows you into the kitchen.
“I got these for you.” He whispers, sitting the large bouquet on the counter and sitting on the other side.
“Thanks.” You whisper back to him, sending a soft smile his way. You wanted to almost to reassure Harry that you weren’t mad at him anymore. You were just sad and heartbroken. You never had feelings like these in such a large magnitude before. And because of this, you weren’t expecting any of what happened.
You silently turn away from him to grab the two vases you had in the cabinet and you sit them down on the counter in front of Harry. 
“I’m sorry if I overreacted on Friday. I just…” you mumble, beginning to unwrap the pretty flowers that were laying on the counter. You were trying to get your thoughts together but it was so hard. 
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. It was all my fault for not saying anything or acknowledging you.” When he says that, your breaths become shakier and a tear slips from your eye. You continue to keep your focus on the flowers as you try to compose your next sentence in your head. You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t even notice Harry coming around to your side of the counter. He softly pulls your hands away from the flowers and he pulls you into his body.
 That was the moment you needed. You thought your release was over the past few days but they were only building up to this. Feeling his arms securely wrapped around you was the only thing you wanted or needed from him. Feeling and hearing your cries only made Harry cry too. The both of you just stood there in your kitchen holding each other as you both poured your hearts out to each other through your tears. This time, not saying anything was saying everything. The both of you could feel what the other was feeling and wanted to say. It was like a large weight was lifted off of you both. After a few more moments of crying and being in your arms, Harry needed to get one thing off of his chest. When he pulls away from you he cups both of your cheeks in his hands and he looks right into your eyes. He wanted to make sure that you knew that he meant every last word that was coming out of his mouth. 
“I can’t even explain how sorry I am Y/n. You mean the world to me and I can’t even fathom the idea of not having you in my life. Seeing you completely broken the other night haunts me everyday and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that. After not having your in my life, even if it was only a few days, I realized that I can’t live without you. I’ve spent so much time and energy looking for my match when I didn’t even bother to look right in front of me. The only type that I have is you. You’re absolutely stunning, inside and out. I feel like a proper dick for making you feel like you weren’t good enough for me. It’s me who’s not good enough. I let you down and I’ll never forget that. You’ve never left my side in the past 3 years and I couldn’t even give you a simple answer. I love you so much and I’ll never stop.” When Harry says this, the knife that was once burrowed in your heart was gone and the wound is patched up as if it never happened. Sure it’ll take time for it all to completely go away, but this was a hell of a good start. 
“I love you so much.” You whimper, feeling another heavy round of hot tears cascade down your face. Harry then pulls your head towards his and presses a long, warm kiss right onto your forehead. That, along with his previous words got rid of the clouds. You were happy again. Your once full sponge was now empty. This meant that you could fill it up again, only this time with feelings of love and happiness. You could finally retire from building walls around yourself and continue experiencing the good that came from being vulnerable. 
Masterlist
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lightskinrry · 3 years
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missing harry’s insta action from last year :’) , a moment tbh !
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SCREamsksks
Nobody:
Harry: black women are beautiful :)
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melaninswift · 3 years
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I’m writing again ! send in requests to my fanfic page @cherryweatherr
it’s mostly harry styles x black!reader unless stated otherwise :)
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harryforvogue · 5 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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adoreyouusugar · 2 years
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I need some Harry Styles x black reader fics stat! I’m seeing ones from 2016 and 2018 I need some right now 😀 please if y’all know any let me know
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bonappetizzle · 4 years
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Feelin’ That The Feeling’s Good
A/N: Back with a second instalment. They’re not in any particular order. Thanks for the notes.
Pairing: Harry Styles x Black!Female Reader
Summary: Harry’s gig. Y/N is a little insecure.
Word count: 1159
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“Hey baby girl,” Harry holds you by your waist, pulling you in for a kiss. “I didn’t think you’d make it.” You give him a coy smile. 
“You didn’t seriously think I’d miss your show. C’mon now H,” he smiles, kissing your forehead.   “You look pretty,” he mumbles, resting his head against yours.“Thank you, don’t look too bad yourself. Although, I do think you should let your hair down.” He moves away, knitting his brows together. “I thought you’d like it?” You stand on your toes, gently releasing his hair from its confinements, gently styling it for him.  
“Better?” He raises his eyebrow at you. You nod, admiring him. 
“Much. You look like a rock star now.” He chuckles, 
“oh yeah” he asks you suggestively. You nod, curling your finger under his collar choker, pulling him foreword. “How much time do you have?” He smirks, a playful look on his face. “15 minutes.” He whispers, ghosting over your lips. Leaning in to kiss you again. You move your finger away, wrapping your arms around his neck. He bites on your bottom lip, moving his hands down to meet your bottom. You moan quietly, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your body growing warmer, as he holds you close.
“Woah! Woah! C’mon now.” Mitch’s voice groans. You reluctantly move away from your boyfriend, who begins to whine. “Sorry,” you apologise, feeling your cheeks burn. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t usually interrupt, but we’re on a 5, and Pete wants to talk to H quick.” Harry huffs, leaning his head against yours, turning to look at his bandmate. “What does he want?” Mitch shrugs, 
“Don’t know. But don’t want to piss him off, he’s had a few already.” He leaves, leaving you two alone again. You feel Harry move off you, a cloud of coldness filling the room. You turn to look at him, while he preps himself to talk to his manager. “You staying back here or going out front?” He asks you, fixing his shirt. “I have my pass. Kate’s with a few of the girls at the bar. I’ll cheer you on from the crowd.” He smiles, leaning down to kiss you. “You’re so cute.”
“And you’re going to be late.” he sprays on aftershave. “15 minutes my ass.” You hit his arm playfully. He chuckles, shrugging. “Worth a shot. I’d be fashionably late and freshly fu-“
“Go!” You shake your head at his ridiculousness. He smiles, taking your hand as you exit the dressing room. Parting as you approach his manager. 
“Catch you later,” he pecks your lips, waving as you make your way past the security.
-
“The band is really good.” Jenna, one of Kate’s work friends says. 
“They are.” You smile, feeling proud for your boyfriend’s band. 
“and that lead singer? He’s yummy.” Another girl comments, ordering a cocktail from the bar. “You think I’d have a shot?” She turns back to ask. She’s beauty personified; Tall, slim, blonde, blue eyed, and devastatingly pretty. You bite your bottom lip, looking back over to your boyfriend flawlessly pleasing the crowd. “He has a girlfriend.” Kate speaks up, as the blonde beauty twirls her hair around her finger, an indifferent look on her face. “So?” You begin to feel uncomfortable. Kate looking over to you. You shake your head. “He’s a star in the making, and I’m sure after 5 minutes with me he’ll change his mind.” Kate scoffs, shaking her head. “Not all men are like that.” She raises an eyebrow,“Oh yeah?” She bites a cherry from its stem. “Is that a challenge.” She giggles. Your eyes widen, your heart beat increasing. “C’mon stop it,” Angela, your other friend says. The girl rolls her eyes, flipping her hair back. “You girls need to relax, maybe I’ll let you know what he’s like after if I see you again,” she downs her drink, slamming it down on the bar, winking at us before leaving to meet her friends in the crowd. 
“Why didn’t you speak up?” Angela frowns. Kate nods, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t know. Guess I was stunned.” You press your lips together. “Well, good thing she’s not Harry’s type.” Kate says sending daggers in the blonde’s direction. “Hate girls who think they can take anyone’s boyfriend.” Angela adds. “You’re prettier anyways.” 
“You think so?” You ask meekly. They both glare at you, as if you’ve grown a second head. “You’re gorgeous babe. There’s a reason Harry snatched you up.” You smile softly at your friend. “Thanks.” 
“No, but seriously y/n, he loves you, just listen to the songs he writes about you. You’re beautiful inside and out, and clearly he thinks so too.” You feel your cheeks heat up, holding your arms out to hug your friends. 
“Love you guys.”
“Love you too,” they both giggle. 
“So? How was I?” Harry asks, wrapping his towel around his neck. 
“Really good. I’m so proud of you,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss you. 
“Thank you, babe,” you scrunch your nose, turning your head. 
“What?” He asks your confused.
“You smell like sweat.”
“Sorry I didn’t shower. I was excited to come see you. I see that was a mistake now.” He pouts dramatically, you shake your head, smiling at him. “You’re so silly,”
“Only for you.” He wraps his arms around you, squeezing you tight. “You still owe me those 15 minutes.” He whispers into your ear. you roll you eyes, smiling back at him “You think you can last 15? You just did an hour and a half on stage. Aren’t you tired?” he shakes his head, a smirk on his lips. 
“Never too tired for a good f-“ you cover his mouth, shutting your eyes together. “Must you be so vulgar?” You open your eyes, moving your hand away from his mouth after he licks at it. “Ew,” you chuckle, “what are you a child?”
“No, but I’m trying to put one in you,” you stare at him before shaking your head. “How long have you been waiting to say that?” He chuckles, shrugging. “Just until you called me childish again.” You wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tip toes to kiss him. “I love you, even with your ridiculousness.” He smiles down at you, holding your waist. 
“I love you too, and thank you.” You both chuckle, separating, as he takes hold of your hand again. A few of Harry’s friends come up to talk to him; while his grip on you stays strong. You turn at the sound of a cough, Angela smiling through the straw in her mouth, tilting her head, as Kate giggles. The blonde from earlier, looking shocked at you with Harry. Good. You laugh airily, catching Harry’s attention. 
“What’s up?” He whispers in your ear, you shake your head. 
“Nothing, I’ll tell you later.” He nods, bringing your hand to his mouth, placing a kiss on it. 
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harrysgoldenbum · 2 years
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Chai for Two - posting May 11 @ 2:30 PM PST
Harry was quiet as he watched her move around in her kitchen. She was in her element, bubbly, and light. He took in every word she was saying. The stove ticked a few times just before the flame caught.
Much like the rest of her duplex, her kitchen was cozy and welcoming. Her white cabinets popped against the gray backsplash, and her wooden shelves provided a feeling of open space. The shelves were covered with various cookbooks, spices, and dishes. Jiya’s windowsill, just above her sink, was decorated with a couple of plants, one looked like spearmint and another looked like basil, and there were a few others Harry couldn’t recognize. Near her stove, sat a tray that had ceramic jars labeled ‘sugar’ ‘tea’ and ‘flour’, next to it was a container that held wooden spoons, spactuals, and what looked like a small steel sieve. 
While the kitchen colors were gray and white, the ocrean blue kitchen island provided a sharp contrast. Which also happened to match her living room sofa color. Jiya also inserted a shot of color into the space with the different mugs and dishes she used in the house. Along with a couple of bouquets of flowers that filled her vases, that sat on the kitchen counter, living room table, and in her office. For the last few weeks, Harry had taken it upon himself to make sure that the flowers were exchanged for fresh ones, changing them about every two weeks. 
Jiya placed the pan over the fire, “I hope you know that I am making you a cup too.” she tosses him a smile over her shoulder as she reaches into the cabinet.
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pm-my-hubbies · 4 years
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WIP Tag
I’ll be tagging a couple other lovely writers on here but here’s the fics I hope to share with you all by the end of this month. If not by the 31st, then maybe the 7th of November.🤗
Wish You Well - JJ Maybank
Chapter Three of Lovers or Rebounds
Lani’s Crown - Henry Cahill
Untitled Chris Evans fic #1
Untitled Chris Evans fic #2
Tagging: @pink-meringues @drewswannabegirl @skiesofthesketchy @kikifromtheblock @ptersparkers @ilovefandoms102 @https-luna @jjmayybank
Others are allowed to join this tag as well.💕
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laketaj24 · 4 years
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Harry Styles x WOC moodboard.... please 🍒😻❤️
Author’s Note: I’m behind on these!!!! But I got to do one!
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