âŚ..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment
likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post
the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like.Â
ong trivia h mocking yn for getting shy on him when sheâs normally blabbering about things. heâd have so much fun bullying her a little when sheâs shy on him i feel like đ¤
âgetting all shy on me? what happened to the girl from before? stopping those sweet lips from moving just cause youâve seen my cock? is that it?â yeaa
Yeahhhhhh. He calls her chatterbox and that does something for me when he's got her plugged with his cock, you know?
very loosely based on this, this and this request!
âMaybe,â he shrugged. A coy smile played on his lips, âbut it worked, did it not? Got you all hot and blushy.â
âIâm not hot and blushy,â Y/N subconcsiously pressed her thighs together, âItâs just exceptionally⌠warm tonight.â
His lip was between his teeth as he shamelessly raked his gaze over her figure, eyes lingering on her plushy hips and tummy. âYeah?â
âMhmm.â
Or,
The one where Harry and his band are local favorites, and Y/N has a crush on the lead singer.
word count: 3.5k+
content warning: filthy filthy filthy. minors please dni. flirty bar singer lhharry x sexy plus size reader ;)
Y/N didnât know what it was about him that made him so incredibly magnetic. Alluring.
Captivating.
It might have been his eyes; piercing, jade that swallowed her whole and made her feel all kinds of giddy with a simple glance. It might have been his smile; cheeky, flirty, and incredibly boyish. Or it might have been his voice; a deep baritone that glided over Y/Nâs ears like butter on a hot day, settling into her bones and making them brittle with the sheer depth of its timbre.
Yeah, Y/N thought, eyes starry and staring up at the tall figure prancing around on stage, pulling the mic stand close to his cherry lipsâ it was definitely his voice.
She thinks it can even lull her to sleep if she tries, not because it was boring (heaven forbid), but because it soothed some innate part of her. Covered her like a weighted blanket and petted her hair till she drifted off into a slumber unlike any she felt before.
She definitely had hearts in place of her regular old pupils. How could she not? When he sang about cocaine and sex (embodied it too, even), grinned toothily towards the group of older ladies sitting at the back of the bar, eyed her group of friends closely⌠maybe a little too closely.
Her gaze met his and the world stopped turning. He smiled around the lyrics, lips curling as he crooned âbabyâ softly into the mic and stared. In her chest, her heart threatened to pop out of her ribcage and make a show of how fast it pumped, especially when he threw her a sneaky wink, unabashedly checked her out, and then turned back to darting his eyes all over the crowd.
Ten seconds felt like ten hours, and Y/N was breathing like she just ran ten laps. Around her, her friends noticed the singerâs flirting and erupted into cheers.
âHe was totally eye-fucking you!â
âYou have to talk to him after the set.â
âHarryâs so hot isnât he?â
Harry. The name sounded awfully familiar because Y/N faintly remembered his introduction at the start of the night, though she only caught bits of it over the constant chatter at her table.Â
ââLo everyone. I hope youâre enjoying your evening. MâHarry and this is my band Canyon Moon. Weâre gonna be performing a couple of songs for you tonight, as we do every Friday. Weâve got a whole lot planned to keep you entertained for the next two hours, so make sure youâve got your drinks in hand. Or smokes, if youâre into that. We donât discriminate.â
Y/N thought he was cute from the moment he opened his pretty mouth; a glimmer in his eyes and a ghost of a smile on his lips that just didnât disappear. He had this look about him that could make a person believe he was sitting inside their heads, peeking into every thought like they were transparentâ a hollow figure made of glass, and he was peering inside to read them like a book.
That was exactly what Y/N felt like as he locked eyes with her for those ten beats. Like he knew of all the filth swimming around her head while she gaped at him with her lip between her teeth and a blush on her full cheeks.
Canyon Moon performed three more songs before politely excusing themselves for a short forty minute break. The crowd clapped and awed, faux pouts on Y/Nâs friendsâ faces when the attractive bandmates slowly slinked off the little staircase by the stage. She cared for only one of them though, the corners of her glossy lips tipping downwards as he ran a hand through his unruly hair and made eye contact with her again.
He must have read the frown on her face, because he giggled and shook his head, before rounding the same corner his bandmates just did and disappearing behind the mahogany backdrop.
Y/N could have cried at the thought of not being able to ogle him freely for another forty minutes, until her friend, Jade, grabbed her arm rather harshly, âcâmon, weâre going to the bar to get some drinks.â
A dejected sigh slipped from her lips as she reluctantly stood, tugging down her miniskirt as much as she could over the thick of her thighs. She quite liked the look of the little, black fabric, even if old grandmas on the streets muttered disgracefully and gave her dirty eyefuls.Â
The truth was that she was long over the illusory ideology that bigger girls had to cover up more because they had bigger thighs, stomachs and tits. She had spent too many of her teen years worrying herself over the shape of her body or the flesh that spilled out from the neck of her tops. Wasting her twenties over the same insecurities she worked so hard to get over was not something she planned to do.
Her breasts poured over her shirt and her thighs filled out her skirt just right. The things that previously made her want to add more layers to her outfits now had her picking out tinier clothing to show off her curves. Although it took her a lot of time and tenacity to overcome her apprehensions, She learnt to finally feel pretty and comfortable enough in her own skin. Sexy, even.Â
And she wasnât the only person who thought so. After ordering herself a cherry mimosa to take back to the table, Y/N leaned her top half on the bar and propped her chin on her palm. Jade had excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Y/N stranded as she rubbed her lips together and dug her teeth into the shiny skinâ a naggy habit of hers that followed her all throughout high school and uni.
She was just about to unlock her phone to distract herself when a honeyed cadence sent shivers down her almost exposed spine.
âTo what do I owe the pleasure of seeing such a pretty little thing at the bar all alone?â
Stood to her right was Harry, the lead singer of Canyon Moon. The man she was daydreaming of fucking mere minutes ago. Somehow, he was even prettier up close than under the intense stage lighting. His jaw was sharp, carved by the finest sculptor and his lips were near sinful as they sang a sweet melody to her keen ears. She rolled her head to face him, drinking in his tight fitted jeans, long, caramel curls and black and white printed button up.
Her nose scrunched in faux torment, âthatâs quite a shitty line, if Iâm being honest. I kinda expected more from a singer.â
Harry chuckled at her retort (a smooth, satisfying hum that made her insides warm), head falling forward and hair covering his smooth forehead, âouch, youâre bruising my ego here. In my defence, itâs hard to come up with a good line when Iâve got a gorgeous girl in front of me.â
She blushed, but tried to hide it, rolling her eyes, âisnât that the whole point of pick-up lines? For them to work on girls you find attractive?â
âMaybe,â he shrugged. A coy smile played on his lips, âbut it worked, did it not? Got you all hot and blushy.â
âIâm not hot and blushy,â Y/N subconcsiously pressed her thighs together, âItâs just exceptionally⌠warm tonight.â
His lip was between his teeth as he shamelessly raked his gaze over her figure, eyes lingering on her plushy hips and tummy. âYeah?â
âMhmm.â
They were broken out of their stupor when the bartender asked for Y/Nâs attention, sliding the scarlet drink in her direction. She thanked him and pulled the glass to her lips, puckering around the rim and drinking, all while she made eye contact with Harry. Y/N could swear she heard him groan hushedly as he closely watched the movements of her mouth. Purposely popping off with a loud smack, Y/N beamed mischievously and held the glass to her chest.Â
âY/N,â she introduced herself, ringed hand outstretched for him to take.
His was much warmer and much bigger, practically swallowing her trembling fingers whole. The thick bands fitted around his knuckles were a cool contrast to her warm skin, âHarry.â He didnât let go for a couple of seconds, watching the slight rise and fall of her chest, the slope of her neck and shoulders, the necklace nestled at the base of her throat and the sultry, longing look on her face.
A startled gasp fell from her mouth as he used his hold on her to suddenly tug her closer, the toes of their shoes touching. Her drink sloshed over her fingers.
Harry tsked. âMessy girl,â he murmured, taking her glass from her hand and setting it on the table.
In the process of doing so, his touch grazed the top of her chest, making her whimper in her throat. She couldnât believe what was happeningâ couldnât believe how incredibly hot the sight before her was as he gently took her sticky hand and brought it up to his face. Y/Nâs mouth and eyes were left agape while he slowly licked the thin droplets of fruity alcohol from the side of her index finger, before engulfing the tip of it in his mouth.
His eyes never faltered from hers, lips suckling softly at the skin and teeth barely clamping down before letting go. There was not a single thought in her head. Her underwear was unbearably soaked as rushes of butterflies flitted about her stomach, and if she had not shut her mouth, surely there would have been drool dripping down the side of it, akin to the current state of her thighs. Her lungs were devoid of any full breaths.
âWhat arââ
âCome to the back with me.â
Six words.
Six words that nearly made her knees buckle as he tugged her even closer, his touch trailing down her forearm and digging his nails into the silky flesh. When his nose skimmed her forehead, she sighed in defeat, âokay.â
Y/N looked up to meet his flushed face and he quickly began pulling her towards the back of the room where a little cleanerâs closet was conveniently situated. She was slightly disappointed when one of his hands dropped hers, already missing the warmth of his palm in her own.Â
People still littered the bar here and there, but Y/N didnât catch sight of any of her friends around. Jade was still in the bathroom (which meant she probably went to have a smoke outside) and the others were at their table by the stage. Y/N was sort of glad none of them knew of her secret little rendezvousâ if they did, she would never hear the end of it.
Once they reached the little closet tucked into a secluded corner, Harry didnât waste a second to rip the door open and shove Y/N inside.
She didnât have time to process anything, because Harryâs hands were on her hips, her thighs, her sides, her neckâ touching and squeezing like he couldnât get enough. Finding her mouth, his fingers tightened around her jaw and he used the hold to push her back against the door, âfuck, youâre gorgeous,â he muttered between kisses. The feeling of his tongue exploring her desperate mouth was euphoric; he was a depraved man as he moaned against her teeth and tasted her cherry soaked lips.
Y/N couldnât help but whimper. Her hands shuddered with excitement when she tried to run them through his long locks. Somehow, she managed a tug, and simaltaneously, Harryâs greedy palms found her thick ass as he sunk his canines into her bottom lip. The same palms travelled up the back of her thighs, his kisses falling to her neck and shoulder. He was having too much fun nibbling and sucking on the supple flesh, almost not noticing the trickle that leaked down her thighs.
A deep groan travelled through his chest and fizzled into her guts when he abruptly swiped his fingers along the sodden fabric of her thong, âChrist, youâre soaked,â he felt her over the fabric, rubbing and rolling before he tucked it to the side. âHarry,â Y/N whined, pushing her hips into his hands. If he didnât give her the release she so fervently needed, she was sure she would combust into flames.
 He kissed the corner of her mouth teasingly, âsâthat feel good, baby? Tell me,â warm fingers prodded at her hole, slowly collecting the sticky wetness and travelling up to her aching clit.
âYes, itâs soââ her words were cut off by a wet gasp as he began rubbing hot, incessant circles right on top of the engorged bud. Harry pushed all of her buttons, switching expertly between circling and flicking his fingers on the nerves. He worked her perfectlyâ like he had months to get accustomed to her body and figure out what she liked.
âHmm?â
Plump thighs trapped his hand between her legs as she threw her head back and moaned, âfuck, itâs so good, Harry, please. Please will you fuck me now?â The second the last words left her mouth, Harryâs other hand came down harshly on her ass, making her skin jiggle and jump. He kneaded the flesh right after, âOf course, baby. Askinâ me so sweetly. Turn âround fâme.â
Doing as he said, she turned over as easily as she could in the cramped space and put her palms on the door. She couldnât believe what was about to happen. The same man she had been drooling over was now about to fuck the life out of her. Y/N was practically buzzing with excitement.
He found the edge of her miniskirt, tugging it up so it rested on the swell of her bum. Her pretty cheeks were revealed to him, and he couldnât help letting his palms come down against the skin a couple of times on each side. She jumped and moaned at every smack.
Gripping the sensitive flesh hard with one hand, Harry giggled at how reactive she was and unzipped his pants, pulling out his aching cock. He was impossibly hard at the sight of her all bent out of shape for him; tits against the door, back arched and butt on display for him to knead, bite and slap.Â
Hastily tugging on a condom, he stretched her thong over one side of her ass so her pussy was bareâ glistening and silky. âReady for me, Y/N?â He asked, squeezing her hips and then her sides. His nails dug into her skin, scratching just enough to have her jolting with pleasure. âMmm. Please, Harry.â The thick head of his cock slid up and down her cunt and he slapped it against her clit for good measure twice before slowly sinking inside.
They both moaned in unison as he entered her; snug and warm, wetness seeping all over his cock and balls. The sight was one for sore eyes, and Harry couldnât stop staring at where they both connected. He bottomed out, stilling for a few seconds as she throbbed all around him. She had never taken anyone so big before, so sheâd be lying if she said she didnât struggle a little with Harry stretching her out. âYâyou can move,â she squeaked, palms curling inwards.
He pulled out slowly, until just the tip was in and took his time rocking back in, making sure she felt every ridge and vein inside of her, âyâsure?â
âYes! Please, Harry, I need it,â she reached her hand back and tiredly squeezed his forearm.
Now, how could he ever possibly say no to that?
All his willpower vanished in less than a minute as he began thrusting a little bit faster, a little bit harder, and a little bit deeper. Y/N couldnât stop moaning and gasping as she glanced over her shoulder, âfuck,â she whimpered, eyes roaming his furrowed brows and parted mouth.
 Harry took the hem of his shirt between his teeth so nothing obstructed his view of her pussy convulsing around him. She was so unbelievably wetâ gushing around him and all over his thighs. âYouâre so fucking wet, Y/N, JesusââÂ
Her pussy pulsed like crazy when he found her g-spot, abusing the poor bump over and over again with each brutal thrust. One of his hands left her ass and slid up her body, wrapping around the front of her neck. He used his grip to pull her back, her spine arching and head falling against his shoulder.
Somehow, he pushed deeper inside of her from this new angle, his pace not faltering once as he groaned right into her ear. His other hand found her clit, rubbing fast, hot circles on it. The pleasure coursing through Y/Nâs veins was near blinding now as she shut her eyes and screamed his name a little too loudly. Not wanting anyone to hear her pretty sounds, Harry slapped the same hand that was on her neck, over her mouth.
âYâhave to be quiet, angel. Canât have anyone else hearing whatâs mine, can I?â
Y/N tried to moan his name but it sounded funny muffled against his palm. He found her little attempts adorable though, and he could tell she was nearing her release when she squeezed rhythmically around him, âcâmon baby, come for me. Need it so bad, I need to feel you come all over me.â
One last high pitched cry stuck to the base of his palm as she came around him. Y/N had never felt anything like this before. Sure, she had had orgasms in the past, but no one ever made her come so fucking hard so soon in her life. She rid out her orgasm for as long as she could, her body slumping just slightly, but she knew Harry still needed to release.
She pushed his hand off her face, âpull out. I want you to come in my mouth.â
âFuck.â
As he swiftly pulled out, Y/Nâs pussy fluttered around the emptiness. Although she missed the feeling of him inside her already, his orgasm was now her number one priority. She turned around and got on her knees, legs still shaking. Her hands wrapped around his wet, pulsing cock after he took the condom off and she tipped it down towards her mouth.
Y/N gave it her allâ sucked over his tip and flicked her tongue against the sensitive underside of his dick. She tried to push it in as deep as she could, and the second she gagged around his length once, he was coming.
Thankfully, Y/N managed to pull him to the front of her mouth just in time. âFuck, youâre such a good girl. Such an angel,â he praised, as thick hot spurts of come poured into her mouth. When his fingers found her hair, she didnât know, but she did know that they felt good tugging and fisting the strands while she swallowed his come. The moment she was done, he grabbed her upper arm and yanked her up to her feet.
No words were exchanged as he leaned in to kiss her softly, tongue invading her mouth and tasting himself on her. All the while, his fingers fixed her panties and pulled her skirt back down. One more hard kiss was pressed against her mouth and he departed from her lips, âyâokay?â
âMhmm. You?â
âNever been better.â
He grinned and patted her ass, âthink your friends might be wondering where yâare. And Iâve got a set inâŚâ he looked at his wrist watch, âfour minutes.â
Y/N nodded, still in a haze. âYep. Yes. Iâll get back to them.â Harry noticed that she was still a little out of it, but he figured sheâd hopefully be fine once she was around her friends again, âyeah?â
âYeah.âÂ
âGood. Blow me a kiss, will you? While Iâm on stage?â Harry smirked, palming her ass over the skirt.
âI will,â Y/N nodded, âgood luck.â
Another smiley, lingering kiss was shared with her swollen mouth. âThank you, angel. Iâll see you out there.â
He zipped himself back up and they slinked out of the little closet, one after the other. Harry went first since he had a set to play in three minutes and Y/N left ten minutes after that to not rouse any suspicions. She took the time to fix her hair and wiped her chin of any stray lipgloss, still processing the whole exchange in her head.Â
When she made it back to her friends, they all had raised brows, noticing her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. âWhat happened to you? We were looking all over,â Jade asked.
Y/N gave them a soft, convincing smile. Her eyes drifted to the stage to find Harry smirking right at her, eye dropping in a sly wink and making her stomach flutter. His cheeks were pink and his shirt was half-tucked because of the way he threw his pants on, but he could easily play himself off as just being affected by the humid air. She turned back to her friends and hoped her face didnât look as hot as it felt.
âNothing. Iâm just feeling exceptionally⌠warm tonight.â
General taglist: @theotherwomannnn @babegoalsreads @harryslounge @angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf
hi!!!! so this is the LHH x fan that i have been talking about for a while now :) i know this is probably not the type of fic you were expecting when the idea was first brought up but i got the inspiration and wrote it down anyway!! I STRUGGLE WRITING FOR REAL HARRY IM SORRY :( I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE COS I REALLY DO đđđđ AND SORRY IF I DISAPPOINTED!! LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF IT, YOU GUYS KNOW FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS SO LOVED!!!
ALSO THANK YOU??? I JUST HIT A FOLLOWERS MILESTONE AND IM FEELING SO INCREDIBLY GRATEFUL FOR EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU!! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU!! GOODNIGHT AND SWEET DREAMS MY LOVES!! đŤśđťđŤśđť
The people who whole heartedly believe Larry is real have never seen two teenage boys who are best friends before. They are touchy and pretend to flirt, especially at that age, JUST like a girl does with her best friend.
Itâs so obvious their friendship was ruined because of people who shipped them cause who wouldnât be weirded out and hesitant to be seen with a friend in public when there is a whole storyline about how you two are dating and manips posted everywhere!!!
Summary: Agent Harry cherishes discipline, but he doesnât like the fact that Y/n has been lacking it.
Trope: Agent Harry
WC: 6.8k
Warnings: MEAN Harry, shouting at Y/n, Angst, mention of blood tests and deficiencies, NO SMUT.
Agent Harry Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Choosing to become an agent would either be the worst decision in your life or the best. In Harryâs case, it was the latter.
He was born a leaderâat least according to his mother. He had the household controlled from a young age, something that was perceived as adorable by adults.
But behind all his antics and âboss ordersâ, was a man eager to assert dominance starting from his early years.
His behavior was a replica of a leader or a man in power. His mother didnât oppose his personality, perhaps a part of her thought it was just a phase, while the other was okay with it.
Little did she know that this stubborn young man would grow up to become one of Londonâs best secret agents.
As some would sayâhe didnât choose the path, the path chose him. A fresh High School graduate eager to take a bite from what the world was offering him with little to no guidance.
Instead, he poured all of his focus on training like a man ready to enroll in the militaryâsomething that his mom disapproved of.
How could she allow her son, her boy to sign himself up like that?
Underneath his rough exterior and judgmental persona, his motherâs beliefs were dear to him. To this day, no one has deemed himself as important as her, and perhaps no one ever will.
So, after her sudden death when he was merely twentyâhe allowed himself to get lost in grief, to go against the orders he created, and betray his strictness. His body dragged him around from one place to another, asking for fights, a punch here and there to transfer his emotional maim to a physical one.
The last time he would do that was also his first chance at a new beginning. Drunk and out of his mind at a local bar, the whiskey still fresh on his tongue with rage bubbling in his core.
Just like every previous time, he ensued a fight for no reason. But this time, it was different because he had an admirer and more of a stalker.
Ezra Nakrosa, the director of the London Intelligence Agency. A man whose reputation preceded him and Harryâs mentor for the upcoming years.
He wasnât actively pursuing him, but he kept his eyes on him after he managed to take down three men with alcohol in his system.
He watched him drink one glass after the other and scoffed to himself when he caused a fight. The last thing he expected was for Harry to outpower them all.
Since then, he watched him from afar, studied his file, and was even more interested upon finding out that he had no family.
The agency always preferred recruiting agents with little to no loved ones, for many obvious reasons and Ezra felt like he hit the jackpot.
That night, he watched Harry intently observing his moves and his body language, before approaching him after the bar owner kicked him out.
Againâhe didnât choose this path, it chose him.
Ezra didnât even have the chance to speak because Harry was quick to confess that âhe wasnât dumb to not notice men stalking himâ.
His agents were the best, so how did a man from a small town detect undercover agents?
He knew in that moment that he would work hard to recruit Harry, and ironically he didnât have to ask twice.
From that day onwards, Harry climbed the ladder to the top with the help of his mentor. He found a purpose to live again, somewhere to cage his rage, and use his strategic thinking skills paired with his physical strength.
While most agents took time to adapt to the new environment, and around two years to be qualified as a field agentâHarry got his first mission in one year.
Not because Ezra secretly favored him compared to others, but because he managed to prove himself worthy, making the board demand his transfer to the field.
He was aware of the progress he made and with every milestone, his ego inflated a bit (and his biceps too).
He turned thirty-one recently, marking eleven years of being a skilled agent. Ezraâs retirement is approaching by the second and everyone is whispering rumors about Harry becoming the next chief director.
Itâs a decision that hasnât been discussed yet, but Ezra is aware that Harry will approve instantly because no one can do it like him. Besides, the agency is his entire life.
He has no loved ones and he dedicated years and hard work to the agency. He knows nothing else.
What could make Harry Styles so busy other than his position as a secret agent?
The agency is preparing for a major attack on a drug cartel, and Harry has been training everyone ruthlessly. The plan he devised was strategic and well-planned from A to Z. It canât go wrong.
But for today, he allowed them some rest after some bargaining with the other trainer. So instead, he directed his focus towards other agents.
According to him, time canât be wasted.
The room was filled with agents in every corner. Most of them were beginners while the others trained for their upcoming missions that werenât as important as the drug cartel attack.
The smell of sweat and tiredness reeked from their exhausted but energetic bodies. Harry focused on strengthening their stamina because a weak one wonât benefit them in the field.
âFaster! A child can do better than you.â His voice echoed in the tight space as he stood in front of the lined agents on the ground.
Even his position whether he was sitting or standing declared his authority and sense of power. His arms were folded against his chest, showcasing his pumped biceps and his facial expression did not harbor any warm smile or softness. No one dared to look him in the eyes anyway.
âWith a stamina like that, youâd be dead already!â His loud shouting wasnât helping the poor beginner agents who cursed their luck that landed Harry as their trainer for the day.
Their current exercise was pushups. A basic one but effective in Harryâs opinion, but their exhaustion makes sense when he wants them to do 200 consecutive pushups without resting, and with sudden planks in between that donât stop until he says so.
Harry may be a bit biased, but he fully believes that the other trainer (whom he doesnât like) is being too soft with the newcomers. Something that shouldnât happen.
He glanced at their worn-out faces and rolled his eyes before dismissing them.
âIâll be discussing your weaknesses with Agent Ian. Go eat and rest but know that you shouldnât be called agents for this shitshow.â He spat his criticism mercilessly uncaring for their feelings.
He watched them stumble out of the room, some of them limping as he remained in his place with the same posture of a leader.
Once everyone was out, his gaze drifted to the punching bag in the corner. He felt like it was calling for him despite the four-hour workout he did in the morning.
His thirst for combat or any type of martial arts could not be tamed. But upon gazing a bit too much at the punching bag, he remembered something he was supposed to do.
His legs immediately take action before his brain as he flees out of the room heading towards a private floor that is restricted for regular agents.
Only Harry, Ezra, high-ranking agents, and members of the board can access this floor. But for an unknown reason, Harry found himself giving Y/n access to his private gym.
There are many layers to things that shouldnât happen but it seemed as if Harry didnât care or was perhaps unaware of his actions.
Agents like Y/n shouldnât be on this floor, but they also canât be trained privately.
The first restriction is more important, but the second is rather for cautionâto maintain a professional relationship between regular agents and higher rank ones.
All agents were trained in groups and if they needed to work on certain issues, their trainer would give them advice but not train them individually.
Harry doesnât always train Y/nâs group but as of late, he noticed her lack of discipline and physical stamina when it comes to combat.
He knew that she wasnât that weak which meant that she had been slacking off with training and that pissed him off.
So he ordered her to wait for him in room 309 at exactly two in the afternoon. His boots left an echo as he walked through the corridor with a confident stride. Yet, something kept poking at his brain allowing anxiety to settle in his stomach. He wasnât entirely comfortable.
He pushed the door to the gym open, reaching his hand for the light switch. It was somewhat dim, obscuring Y/n from his view. She sat on the ground in a corner with her head tilted upwards. In the few seconds between moving her head and meeting his sharp eyes, he got to catch a glimpse of her in a calm state, almost unobserved. Even then, she looked obscenely beautiful.
âYouâre late.â She gestured to the clock on the wall in a sarcastic tone that indicated his five-minute delay.
âNo. Youâre early.â He tried to hide his smirk before failing upon seeing the frown on her face.
âWhatever.â She rolled her eyes and supported her body using her hands to get upâsomething that caught Harryâs eye.
âYouâre an agent. You shouldnât act like a 70-year-old woman at a retirement home.â His tone could cut a vein open, but at this point, she kind of got familiar with it.
She avoided responding or looking him in the eye because one answer would drag the other and he would end up questioning her on her performanceâand frankly, she doesnât have a proper response for that.
Surprisingly, he doesnât take it any further and instructs her to warm up for fifteen minutes in a corner.
She does so with exhaustion traveling through her veins. The only thing that helps her through it is the sight of his athletic body.
His shirt is still on but it perfectly outlines his biceps that he wraps around her body to manhandle her during sexâ
She quickly shakes her head to rid herself of the sinful thoughts sheâs having. But againâwould it be so bad to crave something that happens every other day?
Their steamy encounters keep increasing behind closed doors, and he puts on his bossâs facade once theyâre out. Sheâs not sure if she likes that or not, but either way, she doesnât have a say in it.
Their relationship is strictly physical.
Even if her lips begged her to find his at random moments throughout the day, even if their naked bodies molded after sex, and even if she was awake when he kissed her temple.
âOkay, thatâs it.â The expression on his face held ambiguous cues, but he refrained from saying anything.
She caught her breath as shame creeped up her face planting a rosy color on her cheeks. She walked over to him with her head hung low, and nails digging into her palm.
âI need you to do some boxing because your game is getting weak.â He sighed as disappointment reeked from his words, causing more redness to settle on her face.
He helped her wear the boxing gloves as he intently glanced at her worried expression.
The first ten minutes were okay. Some form of another warm-up in Harryâs opinion. He has seen her train many times before and by now she would have the bag swinging left and right.
It made him think back to her friendly match with another agent and how she got a hit to the stomachâif he hadnât stopped it, other areas would have been affected as well.
Not to mention her stamina in recent trainingâHarry simply could not let her lose her strength out of everyone else.
âFocus harder.â His posture was a warningâan indication of his bubbling anger. His arms were crossed, giving more room for his biceps to rightfully appear.
His legs were parted as he stood motionless, simply burning Y/nâs shame with his piercing gaze. She could feel it. How he had something going on in his mind, aching to roll off his lips.
His jaw ticked while his eyes followed the movement of her hands in sync with the boxing bag. It was a disaster.
âYou know who gives this fucking performance? A beginner.â His tone began to increase gradually.
She swallowed down her throat, trying to ignore his intimidating posture and body that could be warm at times and cold at others.
It wasnât odd for him to be harsh and strict during trainingâexcept that he never spoke to her like this. Not even when she was snarky and replied at things that had nothing to do with her.
Superior agents were not allowed to train any lower-ranking agent privately, and she wasnât an idiot to dismiss that rule. But why was he acting this way?
She punched harder gathering all the strength left in her muscles, for the bag to only move a bit farther. She almost lost her footing but kept going for him. She never wanted to disappoint him.
âA fucking shitshow.â He mumbled quietly under his breathâbut she heard it, and it went straight through her heart like an arrow.
âFor the love of god, youâre a skilled agent so act like one!â His shouting echoed through the room making her stop and glance at him.
He was visibly furious with a vein bulging from his neck. His hand was trembling and his breaths were laboured. She hasnât seen him in such a state before, and she regrets that she just did.
No one wanted to be on the receiving end of his anger but especially not her.
Besides, underneath all the tough facade that she puts on and her bold replies, sheâs very sensitive and completely vulnerable when it comes to him.
Getting shouted at and taking orders from superiors was just another day for agents, but Harry? She was fucking falling for him.
She sighed, gathering her pride before continuing to punch the bag, ignoring the signs her body was giving her to stop.
He observed her for a minute or two, with his eyes darting between her hands and the sway of the bag. He slid down to her legs, and how they were positioned and stationed.
He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and shook his head in frustration. Did everything she learn evaporate in thin air?
âIf you were in the field right now, youâd be fucking dead.â He began walking around her, throwing one sharp comment after the other.
âAre your legs paralyzed? Are you supposed to stand like that when fighting?! His shouting kept getting louder, pushing at her tear duct to open.
He suddenly punched the bag with his bare hand causing it to swing way farther, almost hitting the mirror facing them.
âIs it that hard, Y/n?â He gestured to the swinging bag.
âWhere is your strength!â He was fucking fuming.
What would he do if she went on a mission with such weakness? What would happen to her if he wasnât there?
He was too occupied with his fears to notice her frantically taking the gloves off with tears streaming down her extremely rosy cheeks.
âY/nâŚâ He tried to speak but her sobbing was louder than his words.
It was just another training. He has been way harsher before but this was his first time seeing her cry because of him. It was more painful than a bullet.
âJ-just stop!â Her words were barely coherent with how hard she was crying. He stood in front of her unable to do or say anything.
This wasnât supposed to happen. She was never supposed to cry because of him and he shouldnât have raised his voice this way.
The boxing gloves hit the ground as she hiccuped from sobbing. She picked up her bag from the ground and turned around to face him with red eyes and a broken expression.
âLeave me alone.â The loud thud of the door closing made him flinch. He still hasnât moved an inch trying to grasp what he had done.
Being mean and strict was all he ever knew. He never toned it down for anyone and it didnât reflect how he felt towards them. When it came to Y/n, it was more out of protection and fear of something happening to her. He wanted her to defend herself properly and be a skilled agent. He didnât understand why she was slacking with training like that, missing some sessions, or letting other agents beat her.
She was an amazing agent and managed to reach the top ranks in a short period, just like him.
He lost himself while training her, but he shouldnât have assumed that she could take all of that as a motivation. Thereâs no such thing as being gentle in the agency, and Y/n is one tough woman. Still, he didnât speak to her like that before. If anything, she was the only agent he praised in his ten years of service.
Did that have to do with their secret meet-ups?
Whatever the reason, he fucked up. If someone made her cry, he wouldnât let them see the light of the day again, and no he doesnât know why he feels the need to protect her from everything or why he isnât running after her this instant.
Heâs a pretty shit communicatorâthatâs the only thing he knows.
âHarry.â Ezra snapped him out of his thoughts. He was standing in the doorway with a worried expression.
âIn my office. Now.â
ââââââââââââââââââHarry was all too familiar with this office. He has been here a million times for the good and bad. The leather sofa heâs resting on is somewhat his signature sofa, no one else uses it but him.
His legs are spread and his left knee is bouncing as his fingers tap repeatedly on the edge of the sofa. His expression is serious as always and holds no room for bargaining. If you get close enough, youâd hear his blood boiling in his veins and the echo of Y/nâs cries repeating in his head.
âHarry.â Ezra cleared his throat, letting out an exhale before clasping his hands together.
He didnât need to wait for Harry to turn around and acknowledge him, he had his body language memorized by heart. He instantly caught on and noticed his agitation and stressâsomething that he doesnât exhibit regularly.
âI will not question you as to why an agent like Y/n had access to this restricted floor.â Ezra trusted her but if it were a different agent, he could not let it slide easily.
âWhat I will ask isâwhy did she run from here crying?â He wasnât born yesterday. Harryâs bias toward her and his extra attention was easy to catch, especially when he had known him for a long period.
His question was met with silence and the tightening of Harryâs jaw. He kept observing him shamelessly wondering when was the last time he showed such distress over another human being.
âAt least tell me why you were training her privately. You have never done that nor should you, but whatâs so simpleââ
âSheâs getting weaker!â Harry slammed his hand on the mahogany desk, catching Ezra off guard and spilling some of his coffee.
âLow stamina and endurance, weak punches, wrong posture, and allowing others to win in matches.â His nostrils flared while his hand trembled from the pent-up anger. The tick of his jaw was unsettling and his brows furrowed with great agitation.
Ezra remained calm partly because he was familiar with Harryâs outbursts, but also because he was shocked by his response.
It would be hard to recall a decade of knowing someone, but if heâs not mistaken, Ezra has never witnessed Harry giving two fucks about someone other than his late mother, let alone an agent.
But damn it if it didnât make sense.
âSo what? Many agents slack sometimes.â
âWell, sheâs not any agent. Sheâs smart, strong, and a skilled agent. Have you thought about what would happen to her in the field?!â His body language was less tense, but his defense grew stronger giving Ezra the final piece of the puzzle.
As the chief director of the agency, heâs slightly disappointed by Harryâs lack of professionalism, but as his mentor and nonbiological father figure, heâs happy for him.
Heâs on the road to finding love and caring for someone else is a promising step to de-freeze his cold heart.
Ezra didnât convey any form of emotion and sported a poker face. Harry looked as if he was still gathering evidence in his mind while simultaneously waiting for Ezra to say something.
âA while ago, Y/n asked for my help.â Harryâs expression changed completely.
âWhaââ
âPatience Son.â He warned, gesturing for him to relax a bitâwhich he did reluctantly.
âShe wasnât feeling well and told me that she wanted to get some tests done.â The words rolled off his lips smoothly as if he wasnât casually telling him that something was wrong with her. If it werenât for Ezra, Harry would be halfway through the door right now.
âThe only obstacle was you.â
âMe?â Harryâs voice was rather timid this timeâanother surprise for Ezra.
âYes. If she asked for the agencyâs doctor to perform them, then you would have known one way or another. The reason she avoided telling you remained unknown to meâbut I did help her to get them done.â Harryâs mouth went dry and he felt his vision getting blurry.
Y/n was not feeling fine, and he thought she was slacking.
He was frozen in his place, stuck to the sofa trying to comprehend what his mentor just said. His chest tightened and his heartbeats increased gradually.
âIââ
âThe tests came back and the doctor I contacted said that itâs mild anemia. Nothing too scary, itâs treatable.â Ezra stopped right there after noticing the change of color on Harryâs face. He looked like he was about to faint.
âAre you okay? Whatâs wrong?â He immediately passed him a water bottle and watched him take a few sips with furrowed brows.
What is up with this boy, Ezra thought.
âDo you need foodââ
âShe doesnât have a history of anemia, where the fuck did it come from?â He returned to his normal angry self by posing more questions.
âThe doctor said that mild anemia can develop suddenlyâdue to lifestyle practices of course but Harry itâs manageable.â He could no longer tell his body language. Was he angry? sad? overwhelmed?
Harry stared at the wall, avoiding eye contact but continued his knee bouncing. He unconsciously began cracking his knuckles as Ezraâs presence was erased from his mind.
Only Y/n occupied his thoughts.
His little minx.
She was sick, refused to inform him and all he did was make it worse. His nails dug into the leather sofa, almost tearing off a piece with how hard he pressed.
He was a fucking idiot for not noticing her cues. What kind of sick bastard was he?
âHarry!â Ezra stood in front of him, snapping his fingers to coax him back from his dissociation.
He had a file in his hand that he threw in Harryâs lap. âThese are her tests. Take them and fix what you have done son. I know that you hate apologizingâbut sometimes itâs what you should do with certain people like Y/n.â
Harry was up on his feet in seconds heading towards the door with the file in his hand.
âAnd Harry?â
He waited for him to turn around before continuing.
âI know nothing about this.â A hint of a smile was painted across his face with some mischief.
Y/n was curled up on her couch under her fuzzy blanket with a half-eaten chocolate bar next to her. Her tears barely dried before another wave came through upon remembering what unfolded a few hours ago.
She glanced to the other side of the room where her beloved (and only) companion was staring.
âHeâs a meanie TimTim.â She wiped her tears using her sleeves as her sniffling increased.
Unfortunately, her companion cannot comfort her verbally. TimTim is a penguin plushie that has been with her through everything. The nature of her job prevented her from adopting a petâsomething that she wanted so badly. Her constant absence did not make her qualified to look after a small creature, but TimTim sufficed.
ââŚbut he has a good dick⌠and a good heart sometimes.â She rolled her eyes at her stupidness. No matter how badly someone hurt her, sheâd always find an excuse to justify their actions.
Her recent argument with Harry had many layers to it. To begin with, he wasnât exactly a love-dovie type of person. His attitude toward her was slightly less bitchy compared to other agentsâbut she also drove him nuts by throwing back sassy replies and remarks.
He was the most stubborn and cold-blooded man she had ever met, not because he liked to do it for fun or out of sadist tendenciesâit was just his character.
Discipline, Respect, Loyalty. Those were his most sacred traits. Most agents nowadays were weak according to him, so he found himself resorting to tougher training and a harsher approach.
Her eyes didnât swell with tears because of his sharp words and anger. Frankly, she knew how he could turn into someone else during training, and rightfully so.
But validation from him mattered. If she placed her biased feelings aside, she would find that he was her favorite superior. Heâs a talented agent with the right principles and morals. She looked up to him.
She never wanted to disappoint him, but she managed to.
The more she thought about it, the more tears flowed out of her tear duct. The fury and frustration that he expressed pained her, it was so different from his usual smirks that were followed by praises.
When she could no longer handle his disappointment, she broke down revealing all the ache that she had been carrying.
Letting him down was never on her agenda, but neither was getting sick. She began noticing her decrease in performance a while ago, along with fainting twice. She dismissed it thinking that she just needed more sleep or perhaps more days off.
But when the symptoms persisted, she knew something was off. Telling Harry was not an option, mostly because she didnât know how he would react but it also felt like something that must be kept a secret from him, so she resorted to Ezra.
He hasnât replied but she spotted him from her peripheral vision upon leaving earlier today, and her emotions were all over the place to give two fucks, which explains why she came to her apartment.
Usually field agents like her sleep at the agency and dedicate their time to the secret service. She was one among many who became orphans at a young age, and this made it easier for the agency to make them stay there instead of in apartments.
No loved ones always meant a safer life for people like them.
Still, Y/n liked the idea of having a designated space for her. If she was destined to be lonely, she might as well learn to enjoy it.
So despite not being allowed to leave without prior notice, she immediately found herself in her cozy flat munching on chocolate and ranting to TimTim as she hiccuped and sniffled repeatedly.
What confused her even more was his expression of regret upon seeing her cry. She was too upset to register it, but now that she let everything out and recalled what went down, she was certain that it wasnât something usual of him.
His entire demeanour switched and he was confused whether to step forward or backward as he softly whispered her name.
Did he act the same way with other agents? Fuck no.
But does that mean that he regretted what he had done?
Maybe his eyes that tried to decode her feelings exposed him, or his hand that unconsciously moved forward towards her bodyâ
Y/n covered her face with her hands and groaned loudly as if her thoughts would stop colliding. Everything was puzzling her more and more. Was he disappointed or not?
The loud banging on her door pulled her out of her tangled thoughts and vulnerable character.
She certainly wasnât around enough to become besties with her neighbors or have friends to pop in for girlsâ night.
Perhaps the agency sent someone to get her, but how would they know that she came here? Maybe they just tried their luckâ
The banging got louder as if it was a warning. Whoever was outside, planned to come inside no matter what.
Y/n immediately switched into agent mode and grabbed a gun from the nearest drawer. Better be safe than sorry.
She walked slowly to the door with careful footsteps and high heartbeats. The door didnât have a hole in it, so sheâd either have to ask who was outsideâor open the door.
But her guest beat her to it.
âY/nâŚopen the door.â Harryâs voice made her take a step back. The fresh tear stains on her cheeks burned upon hearing his words. What brought him here?
Hell, a serial killer wouldâve been less surprising.
âNo.â She lowered her gun and relaxed her shoulders a bit. More tears threatened to fall as she slowly turned around toward the couch.
He hasnât been to her apartment before which means that he had some fun with her record. Heâs most likely here to drive her back to the agency where sheâll receive a warning for leavingâwhat else could be here for?
âY/n⌠I can pick the lock, break the door, or you can just let me in.â He huffed in annoyance at her stubbornness. She might as well turn on the TV to ignore him.
They both knew that he wasnât joking. He could break in if he wanted, but Y/n was too busy trying to understand why he came here.
âListen, I know about the lab tests.â Y/nâs eyes widened in shock. Damn it, Ezra.
So this is what heâs here for. A double warning. One for leaving and one for not informing him of her sickness.
She was near the door in two seconds, unlocking it and facing him despite her messy look and tired teary face.
âSince whenââ She meant to stay focused. She really did. But as usual, he found a way to make her forget about her anger.
He was dressed normally. It was odd to see him in something outside of his work attire, even if it was a simple hoodie with matching joggers. He looked cozy.
But what made her jaw drop was the fresh bouquet of yellow tulips in his right hand.
He got her flowers?
He cleared his throat making her realize how shocked she looked, and he didnât blame her. She was the first woman he bought flowers for, ever.
The sight of her swollen eye and dried tears made him tighten his grip on the bouquet. A sight that will never leave his mind.
âIââ She tried to let out something but she failed and moved aside for him to enter.
âWhy the tulips?â She stood with her arms crossed trying to decipher what was going on.
âYou like them.â His answer was short and clear but it held more meaning. She doesnât recall letting him in on her favorite flowersâ
âI overheard you telling Tania.â He shrugged as if it was not a big deal to eavesdrop on other agents and then memorize Y/nâs favorite flower.
He scanned the apartment with his eyes carefullyâa habit of his for safety. It was more out of curiosity as if it would whisper to him secrets about Y/n.
âWhy are you here?â Her voice seemed timid and broken.
He ignored her query and continued scanning his surroundings for a hint of her personality.
âChocolateâŚ?â He furrowed his eyebrows at her but it was hard to focus or look her in the eye without noticing her puffy face.
âHere to lecture me?â She scoffed, walking past him to the safe corner she made on her couch.
She covered herself and returned to her previous position as if her superior at work was not standing before herâwith her favorite flowers still in his hand.
What the fuck is up with the flowers, she thought.
âIf you want to stand there and give your lecture, then be my guest.â She mumbled coldly without blinking once. The coziness from the soft blanket slowly came back, but Harryâs cold stare fought it.
The last thing she expected him to do was sit next to her and rest his hands on her legs. She had a billion questions swimming in her head and she bit her tongue to not ramble and ask what the fuck was going on.
âIâm Sorry.â It rolled off his lips so easily, but her ears couldnât process it. She stayed silent and did not move an inch as she stared ahead, ignoring his warm touch.
If she canât understand anything, sheâll just listen and observe cluelessly.
âI had no idea that you were sickâ I wouldnât have pushed you this much if I did. But still, thatâs not an excuse. I shouldnât push you at all.â His words were direct and his voice was unshakeable. He was fully confident of what he was saying, with no shame.
She swallowed down her throat, fighting the tears threatening to fall down her face.
âI spoke with EzraâŚand he gave me your tests. A doctor reviewed them and said itâs mild anemia.â The tears fell silently on her face disobeying her. Harry stopped speaking as if he felt her sadness.
âCould you get up a bit? Hmm?â He rubbed soothing circles on her skin and waited patiently for her answer.
She slowly lifted herself despite her reluctance, but still refused to look him in the eye. He can see her tears falling from the side and it makes him want to punch a wall.
âAttagirl. Look at me please.â He stroked her cheek softly with his knuckles.
She slowly turned her face in his direction as his hand reached out to wipe her tears.
âYouâre pretty when you cry, but I donât like it.â He whispered with his voice being barely audible. His eyes were fixated on her gorgeous lashes that she batted at him. How did she exist like an angel so casually?
âYeah well, it was you who made me cry.â She mumbled like a child, crossing her arms at her chest.
âIâm a dickhead.â He laughed at the cute face she made with his hand still wiping any new tears that fall.
Heâll be damned if heâll let her cry again.
âI know.â She rolled her eyes and reached out for the file next to him.
âY/nââ
âWhat did the doctor say?â
âLike I said, itâs mild anemia. But nothing too dangerous. I got you the supplement he prescribed.â Harry gestured to the bottle placed near the flowers.
âAnd you missy will have your diet monitored by me. I want you eating iron-filled foodsââ He barely completely his sentence before Y/n was groaning loudly and slumping backward on the couch.
âGet up. Donât make me tickle you.â He warned and she lifted herself within seconds with a pout on her face.
âNow the question is⌠why were you ignoring your needs?â It was the only question that she wished he wouldnât ask. But nothing can stop him from knowing what he wants.
She stared at TimTim despite his piercing gaze on her hoping that the plushie could rescue her somehow.
âI wasnât ignoring them, I guess I simply didnât realize.â She swallowed down her throat, avoiding eye contact.
âYou didnât want to tell me.â He pressed further. His tone was soft but impatientâheâd beg on his knees if he had to.
âIââ She focused her gaze on TimTim again causing Harry to turn his head around for a look.
âA plushie?â He scrunched his face in shock.
âSo?â She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms against her chest. She seemed ready to punch him if he made fun of her.
âNo comment.â He raised his hands in the air letting out a soft smile. It was a rare sight, but a beautiful one. She liked seeing him smile as his dimples popped up on his soft face.
âDonât run away from the question though.â He whispered with his eyes begging her for the truth.
Her tears had dried but her face was still puffy and her eyes were swollen. There werenât any tears to wipe but that didnât stop Harry from reaching out his hand to caress her cheeks.
His warm touch was weird to decipher, it seemed able to burn her at times, just like his words.
âI didnât want to disappoint you.â She blurted out suddenly before inhaling sharply in shock as if her mouth betrayed her without permission.
Harryâs facial expression shifted from softness to something she couldnât decodeâbut the pain was recognizable.
She lowered her gaze as her cheeks became flushed with embarrassment. His hand slowly inched away from her skin, feeling unworthy of touching her.
âYou could never disappoint me.â He whispered it like a promise. A sacred one. He couldnât believe that she would think like that even for a second.
He was so fucking proud of her. He pushed her earlier today but he was lenient with her before. A bullet wound wouldâve been better to take than her confession.
She mattered to him whether he was aware or not but the clutch in his chest mustâve given him a hint.
âLook at me, please.â
She lifted her chin reluctantly and looked him in the eye. This was her first time seeing him this vulnerableâit was so easy to read his eyes.
âThereâs no way you could disappoint me. Ever.â
âI slacked in performanceââ
âFuck that. You need rest.â He shook his head, denying all the false thoughts she had.
âWhat I did earlier was a mistake and it wonât happen again.â It was more of a vow than a promise.
Silence filled the apartment after his last sentence. They shamelessly stared into each otherâs eyes despite the intrusion of TimTim. Harry knew that if he didnât do or say somethingâheâd have his lips on her in mere seconds.
âI should get going.â He cleared his throat and stood up.
Y/n was still going through a rollercoaster of emotions. She ached to ask him something back, it was fair to do so. But instead, she decided to let him go.
âAlsoâŚâ He fetched a paper out of his hand and left it on her couch. âYouâre allowed a week of rest. That means no training, no gym, and you can stay here.â
Surprise was prominent on her face. She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it.
âNo objections. I need you to rest.â Sheâs not sure if this was allowedâif the board knew about the leave he granted her. It seemed to pile up amongst many of the other things she wondered about.
âOkayâŚâ She balanced herself on her feet and walked him to the door.
âThis doesnât mean Iâm done being mad at you.â She mumbled sarcastically.
âGood. I like it when youâre bratty.â He winked at her as he opened the door.
She watched him walk away before turning around and looking at her.
âOh and Y/n? Iâll have a customized meal plan delivered to your house. For fuckâs sake donât live off chocolate.â
âButââ
âNo buts and take your supplement.â His voice echoed in the building as he descended the stairs.
She stood motionless at the door with her arms folded against her chest as she scrunched her face and rolled her eyes at his bossy orders.
âDonât roll your eyes missy.â His voice was distant signaling that he reached the ground floor. She slammed the door shut in response, unable to contain the smile that crept up on her face.
She didnât lie to TimTimâhe does have a good heart sometimes, but discipline remains cherished.
Something I love about being a teenage girl is when Iâm worried about my future, no matter what I choose thereâs a fanfic out there that will fit a niche scenario where I meet a version of Harry styles.
germansingergirl
theartofmadeline
turnnoffyourmind
titsay
stormborns
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
