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Lost wolf - Mate (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1409217757-lost-wolf-mate?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=unicornashes23&wp_originator=zwoBAJHcnqZe5v%2F5MH%2F07uqi%2Fn%2BKT2GKgKLyk3U80AhE1NzIiV86QA2kbtlSZW%2BD4kKC1HDrmWgloYIMSq8uy%2FWLGvXcL15m6kP4DyrARlLDEC2yMzxRsxKqfJQs8k2O
Meet Lydia, a young wolf-less woman who finds herself sold at a slave bazaar to a seemingly cruel Alpha, a mere few months before she could claim her freedom. Meet Adam, a tortured Alpha, plagued by the sudden loss of his parents and the burden of his pack, who finds himself torn between his duties and love. Follow their journey towards self-discovery, where they learn to embrace their feelings, to explore their chemistry and conquer their fears together.
"Oh come off it, Harry. You can't be serious!", Mark exclaimed, looking flabbergasted.
"I'm telling you, no more drinking. I promised.", Harry said, taking a slow sip of his soda, looking towards the bar.
They were hanging out at the pub as usual. It was a pub tucked away in a quiet little street, around a half hour away from London. It was the only place they had left. The only place he had left. To be normal. To feel normal. To pretend everything was the same as it was.
No one ever recognised him there. Or at least they pretended they didn't. And it was good enough for him. It was the same as he was doing. Pretending.
Mark had ordered his usual beer and was almost through with it, wondering aloud if he should order another one or switch to a gin. When Harry said he was sticking to sodas all night and every night from then on, Mark couldn't believe his ears. Bloody Harry Styles, doing everything from booze to weed to coke to everything all at once at his prime, was going stone cold sober.
"You're really good at making promises, aren't you?", his oldest friend remarked. Pretty shit at keeping them though, he thought to himself.
Harry smirked, his eyes never leaving their new-found target.
"So, are we still hanging out at the pub then? How can you be sober at a bloody pub? That's ridiculous, that is.", Mark ranted, visibly annoyed.
"Where do you propose we hang out then?", Harry prompted, knowing full well he didn't have an answer to his question.
"My place?", he asked, hopefully.
"Yeah, no thanks. Your place is full of your bloody screaming children. You know I can't stand that for more than thirty minutes at a time."
"Yeah, right. Sometimes I think you love those kids more than me.", he said, laughing.
Harry didn't reply. He was busy staring towards the bar.
Mark turned around annoyed, to finally see what his friend had been staring at for the whole time they were there. Yeah, remarkably shit at keeping promises, he thought again, realising that his friend was looking at a group of girls sitting at the bar doing shots. Staring at one particular girl.
He sighed. "Just go over there already. I have my bloody screaming children to get home to."
"Don't mind if I do", Harry said, chucking the remainder of his soda in one gulp. He picked up his glass and walked towards the bar, muttering a half-arsed goodbye to his friend.
Mark left without saying goodbye back, but Harry didn't care. Mark was as loyal as they come, and no matter what he got up to he always seemed to be able to forgive and forget.
He had gotten to the pub about ten minutes before his friend that night, which gave him plenty of time to scope out the place. It was almost empty, apart from the table with the three usual pals of the owner, who where there every day of the week, and a group of girls who were probably on a pub crawl, half of them looking already drunk.
Mark used to joke that the only thing keeping their favourite pub from closing were Harry's generous tips. Harry thought he was probably right, judging by how dead this place was on a Friday night.
He had sat at their usual corner table and ordered a soda, trying to convince himself that he was going to keep his promise. He waited patiently for Mark, whilst trying to listen in to the girl's conversation to pass the time. He was keeping his head low subconsciously, trying not to get recognised by them, as he was so used to doing, but they didn't even glance his way once.
"Next round's on me!", a petite blonde girl from the group shouted, her high voice way louder than it needed to have been.
A bunch of excited "woos" came from the rest of the girls, and they all cheers'd together when their beers arrived.
"To Jenn, for finally getting the promotion she was chasing after for fucking two whole years!", one of them said.
The blonde girl screamed excitedly, meaning she must've been Jenn.
Harry shamelessly checked them all out, one by one.
The girl named Jenn was the shortest of them all, but she screamed the loudest, and she seemed pretty drunk out of her mind already.
Vomit city, Harry thought, even though every cell of his being was yearning to be as drunk as her right now.
Next to Jenn, was another blonde, with long curly hair, blue eyes and a prominent nose. She was laughing constantly, her high-pitched laugh instantly putting Harry off, even though he thought she looked pretty hot in that short leather skirt she was wearing, contrasting her doll-like face.
Then, there was a really tall girl, probably about the same height as Harry with the heels she had on, with bright red lipstick and a white dress, light-brown curly hair and the same blue eyes as the weird laugh girl. Looks like sisters, Harry thought, and then his eyes fell to her right ring finger, where he spotted a gold band. He instantly reached for his own ring finger, absentmindedly rubbing the spot where a ring would be.
Moving on to the last girl, he thought, but he couldn't see her clearly from where he was sitting.
He waited for a bit, figuring she was bound to move around and he could catch a glimpse at her, but she was sitting pretty still.
He was staring at her all night long, while Mark was chatting away at him, blabbing about his wife wanting him to wash the dishes every night and how he was sick and tired of driving all around town to pick up his kids from some place just to take them some place else. Harry knew Mark loved doing those things, and he was just messing about, just to have something to say. Mark's life was pretty much the same every day. Harry could sense that he felt embarrassed about that, every time they got together.
When they were growing up, everyone thought Mark was going to be the one to make it. He was on his way to be a brilliant football player, everyone said so. And then he hurt his knee pretty bad one day at practice when he was 15, and he wasn't the same ever since. So he got a job at a bank, rose steadily through the ranks, got married to a plain girl, bought a plain house and had plain children. Pretty embarrassing, compared to his world famous best friend.
Harry wished he could understand how jealous of his plain life he was. And he pretended he wasn't. That's what he was best at.
The last girl was wearing high-heeled black leather boots. Black sheer tights, short black skirt or dress, he couldn't exactly tell. Toned legs underneath.
He caught a glimpse of long dark, almost black curls.
He heard her singing along to the song that was playing. Some song about sweaters. Warm, sweet voice. Decent, he thought.
He heard one of the others call her Rosie.
I like the name Rosie.
Mark had finally caught on. He told him to go over there, so Harry went. As if he was waiting for his permission.
He walked slowly towards the bar, settling across from her, asking the barman to get him another soda.
She turned around at the sound of his voice, and he could finally get a good look at her.
She had long black hair, very long indeed. It was loosely curled, and it gave her a wild look.
High-arched black full brows, verging on unkempt, but suiting her.
Piercing eyes. Almond- shaped, honey coloured, almost yellow in certain lighting. Shooting daggers at him. Feral.
Harry was taken aback by how intimidating she looked, almost unapproachable. He took his soda in hand, ready to get back to his table, disappointed.
And then she smiled. She smiled at him. Big, beautiful, genuine smile. Reaching her eyes, making her squint, tiny lines appearing next to them.
Oh, sweet Rosie.
Harry was hooked. And so was Rosie, it seemed, cause she excused herself from the group and went around the bar to sit next to him.
"Wanna buy me a drink?", she asked, smiling that big smile of hers.
Bold.
"Don't you think you've had enough?", Harry asked, smirking back at her.
"How about I buy you one then?", she remarked.
Very bold.
Harry laughed, and motioned to his soda. "Can't. Going sober."
"Oh, that's okay.", she said, still in high spirits. "I'm Rosie. And you are?"
"I'm Harry. Nice to meet you.", he said shaking her hand. Soft, warm, hand. He held it slightly longer than necessary, but she didn't seem to mind.
"You seem a bit more together than your friends.", he said laughing, as he noticed Jenn across the bar, almost falling out of a stool.
"Oh, yeah, I can hold my drink a lot better than them.", she replied. "It's okay, though, we all deserve to let loose sometimes."
"Couldn't agree more.", he smirked.
"Wanna come back to my place?", she asked, without hesitating. Unashamed, she stared at him intently, her suggestive look emboldening him.
"Hell yes", he exclaimed. Impulsive. He shoudn't have said that.
Too late now.
She took his hand, waved goodbye to her friends, and they were gone.
Harry drove, cause she didn't have a driver's license. He was taken aback by that, asked her how old she was. She said thirty, raising her eyebrows, as if waiting for a bad reaction. Challenging him to say anything about her age.
"Twenty-nine myself.", he said, making her at ease. At least she was older than she looked. Harry didn't think he'd like younger-looking girls, and yet here he was.
They chatted absentmindedly for the whole short drive, his hand brushing against her thigh as he was changing gears. He felt goosebumps coming on his arms, every time that happened.
Electric.
They arrived at her place. She lived in a small one-bedroom apartment, with a tiny bright yellow two-seater sofa, a bookshelf overflowing with worn-looking books, two glasses and a coffee mug half-full on the coffee table next to a laptop.
Feels more like a home than my stupid mansion, Harry thought, and then smirked at his depressive thoughts.
Poor rich man.
She led him to her bed.
"Take off your clothes.", she commanded, as she sat on the bed and looked at him expectantly, taking off her boots at the same time.
"As you wish.", he said, grinning mischievously.
He had missed this part, the new, the exciting, the unknown.
"You have a lot of tattoos, Harry.", she stated, after she watched him painstakingly remove his garments one by one.
Harry chuckled nervously, running his hand through his overgrown locks, that were at that awkward length between short and long.
"Yeah, is that a problem?"
"No problem at all", she laughed and pulled him onto her on the bed. She swiftly took off her top. Harry realised she wasn't wearing a bra. How come I didn't notice that before?, he wondered to himself.
It was those eyes. He couldn't take his off of hers. They seemed to have darkened in colour, making them seem almost black now.
Lust.
He kissed her hungrily, realising instantly that that was what he was waiting for his whole life. To kiss those lips. That was his life's purpose.
Sparks were flying. Their chemistry was undeniable.
She seemed to think the same, cause she reciprocated the kiss with enthusiasm.
He took her skirt in his hands and pulled it down, taking her knickers and tights along with it carelessly, almost ripping everything apart.
He placed two fingers inside her, and she moaned loudly. He would do everything to hear her moan like that again.
He felt how wet she was, and couldn't help but smile as he was kissing her, feeling proud of himself.
She took him in her hand, her soft, warm hand. It took everything in him not to cum right then and there.
What the hell is the matter with you? You're acting like a bloody teenage virgin!, he thought, extremely annoyed at the hold she had over him. You've just bloody met the girl.
He ran his free hand through her long locks, slightly pulling at it. She seemed to like that, so he pulled even harder.
He continued to finger her, slow and fast and then slow again. He knew that drove them crazy. She was moaning even more loudly now, and he placed his hand over her mouth, laughing as he said, "You're gonna wake everybody up, babe. We don't want an audience now, do we?"
Rosie muttered, "No, we don't. This is just between you and me, babe." And then she moaned, longer and lower than before.
"You're driving me crazy.", he managed to spit out.
She reached over to her nightstand and took out a condom, passing it to him.
He removed his hand from her, and she grunted in protest.
He put the condom on as fast as he could, and climbed over her.
"I want you in me. Right. Now.", she said in between moans.
Harry obliged happily.
It was fast and it was slow all at once. He found himself stopping just to look at her for a bit. She looked even more like a wild animal now, her hair all over the place, her eyes looking at him hungrily, her fingers touching him all over, her full lips whispering his name.
Harry didn't want it to end. And yet, it was over in a matter of few minutes. Harry laid by her side whimpering. He could hear her panting, trying to catch her breath, her heart beating fast.
"That was amazing, Harry", she breathed, placing her arm on his chest, giving him a soft kiss.
"It sure as hell was, Rosie.", he agreed and heard her laughing.
Harry stayed there, staring at her bedroom ceiling, as he calmed himself down, trying to think clearly for once that evening. He had to get out of there soon.
He heard her heartbeat steadying, her breath slowing down, until she finally fell asleep.
Harry got up very quietly, trying his best not to wake her.
He put his clothes back on, and found his cellphone.
He typed a text and sent it.
"Coming home now. Not even a sip of booze, just as I promised. See you soon. x", it said.
He searched the pockets of his jeans and found what he was looking for.
The gold band that fit his right ring finger perfectly. He put it on and sighed.
He opened the door and left without a word, without a moment of hesitation, not noticing the pair of wild honey eyes looking back at him, tears threatening to spill over them.
Harry was pretty good at breaking promises.
----
I'M BACK BABY!
Had a sudden surge of inspiration and wrote this in one sitting. Hope you liked it! Sorry it's a bit long. Please let me know your thoughts.
I'm having some trouble with my messages, I can't open any of them, really sorry if you've been waiting for a reply. Can't even read anything, just shows I have some unopened ones :/
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
"Oh come off it, Harry. You can't be serious!", Mark exclaimed, looking flabbergasted.
"I'm telling you, no more drinking. I promised.", Harry said, taking a slow sip of his soda, looking towards the bar.
They were hanging out at the pub as usual. It was a pub tucked away in a quiet little street, around a half hour away from London. It was the only place they had left. The only place he had left. To be normal. To feel normal. To pretend everything was the same as it was.
No one ever recognised him there. Or at least they pretended they didn't. And it was good enough for him. It was the same as he was doing. Pretending.
Mark had ordered his usual beer and was almost through with it, wondering aloud if he should order another one or switch to a gin. When Harry said he was sticking to sodas all night and every night from then on, Mark couldn't believe his ears. Bloody Harry Styles, doing everything from booze to weed to coke to everything all at once at his prime, was going stone cold sober.
"You're really good at making promises, aren't you?", his oldest friend remarked. Pretty shit at keeping them though, he thought to himself.
Harry smirked, his eyes never leaving their new-found target.
"So, are we still hanging out at the pub then? How can you be sober at a bloody pub? That's ridiculous, that is.", Mark ranted, visibly annoyed.
"Where do you propose we hang out then?", Harry prompted, knowing full well he didn't have an answer to his question.
"My place?", he asked, hopefully.
"Yeah, no thanks. Your place is full of your bloody screaming children. You know I can't stand that for more than thirty minutes at a time."
"Yeah, right. Sometimes I think you love those kids more than me.", he said, laughing.
Harry didn't reply. He was busy staring towards the bar.
Mark turned around annoyed, to finally see what his friend had been staring at for the whole time they were there. Yeah, remarkably shit at keeping promises, he thought again, realising that his friend was looking at a group of girls sitting at the bar doing shots. Staring at one particular girl.
He sighed. "Just go over there already. I have my bloody screaming children to get home to."
"Don't mind if I do", Harry said, chucking the remainder of his soda in one gulp. He picked up his glass and walked towards the bar, muttering a half-arsed goodbye to his friend.
Mark left without saying goodbye back, but Harry didn't care. Mark was as loyal as they come, and no matter what he got up to he always seemed to be able to forgive and forget.
He had gotten to the pub about ten minutes before his friend that night, which gave him plenty of time to scope out the place. It was almost empty, apart from the table with the three usual pals of the owner, who where there every day of the week, and a group of girls who were probably on a pub crawl, half of them looking already drunk.
Mark used to joke that the only thing keeping their favourite pub from closing were Harry's generous tips. Harry thought he was probably right, judging by how dead this place was on a Friday night.
He had sat at their usual corner table and ordered a soda, trying to convince himself that he was going to keep his promise. He waited patiently for Mark, whilst trying to listen in to the girl's conversation to pass the time. He was keeping his head low subconsciously, trying not to get recognised by them, as he was so used to doing, but they didn't even glance his way once.
"Next round's on me!", a petite blonde girl from the group shouted, her high voice way louder than it needed to have been.
A bunch of excited "woos" came from the rest of the girls, and they all cheers'd together when their beers arrived.
"To Jenn, for finally getting the promotion she was chasing after for fucking two whole years!", one of them said.
The blonde girl screamed excitedly, meaning she must've been Jenn.
Harry shamelessly checked them all out, one by one.
The girl named Jenn was the shortest of them all, but she screamed the loudest, and she seemed pretty drunk out of her mind already.
Vomit city, Harry thought, even though every cell of his being was yearning to be as drunk as her right now.
Next to Jenn, was another blonde, with long curly hair, blue eyes and a prominent nose. She was laughing constantly, her high-pitched laugh instantly putting Harry off, even though he thought she looked pretty hot in that short leather skirt she was wearing, contrasting her doll-like face.
Then, there was a really tall girl, probably about the same height as Harry with the heels she had on, with bright red lipstick and a white dress, light-brown curly hair and the same blue eyes as the weird laugh girl. Looks like sisters, Harry thought, and then his eyes fell to her right ring finger, where he spotted a gold band. He instantly reached for his own ring finger, absentmindedly rubbing the spot where a ring would be.
Moving on to the last girl, he thought, but he couldn't see her clearly from where he was sitting.
He waited for a bit, figuring she was bound to move around and he could catch a glimpse at her, but she was sitting pretty still.
He was staring at her all night long, while Mark was chatting away at him, blabbing about his wife wanting him to wash the dishes every night and how he was sick and tired of driving all around town to pick up his kids from some place just to take them some place else. Harry knew Mark loved doing those things, and he was just messing about, just to have something to say. Mark's life was pretty much the same every day. Harry could sense that he felt embarrassed about that, every time they got together.
When they were growing up, everyone thought Mark was going to be the one to make it. He was on his way to be a brilliant football player, everyone said so. And then he hurt his knee pretty bad one day at practice when he was 15, and he wasn't the same ever since. So he got a job at a bank, rose steadily through the ranks, got married to a plain girl, bought a plain house and had plain children. Pretty embarrassing, compared to his world famous best friend.
Harry wished he could understand how jealous of his plain life he was. And he pretended he wasn't. That's what he was best at.
The last girl was wearing high-heeled black leather boots. Black sheer tights, short black skirt or dress, he couldn't exactly tell. Toned legs underneath.
He caught a glimpse of long dark, almost black curls.
He heard her singing along to the song that was playing. Some song about sweaters. Warm, sweet voice. Decent, he thought.
He heard one of the others call her Rosie.
I like the name Rosie.
Mark had finally caught on. He told him to go over there, so Harry went. As if he was waiting for his permission.
He walked slowly towards the bar, settling across from her, asking the barman to get him another soda.
She turned around at the sound of his voice, and he could finally get a good look at her.
She had long black hair, very long indeed. It was loosely curled, and it gave her a wild look.
High-arched black full brows, verging on unkempt, but suiting her.
Piercing eyes. Almond- shaped, honey coloured, almost yellow in certain lighting. Shooting daggers at him. Feral.
Harry was taken aback by how intimidating she looked, almost unapproachable. He took his soda in hand, ready to get back to his table, disappointed.
And then she smiled. She smiled at him. Big, beautiful, genuine smile. Reaching her eyes, making her squint, tiny lines appearing next to them.
Oh, sweet Rosie.
Harry was hooked. And so was Rosie, it seemed, cause she excused herself from the group and went around the bar to sit next to him.
"Wanna buy me a drink?", she asked, smiling that big smile of hers.
Bold.
"Don't you think you've had enough?", Harry asked, smirking back at her.
"How about I buy you one then?", she remarked.
Very bold.
Harry laughed, and motioned to his soda. "Can't. Going sober."
"Oh, that's okay.", she said, still in high spirits. "I'm Rosie. And you are?"
"I'm Harry. Nice to meet you.", he said shaking her hand. Soft, warm, hand. He held it slightly longer than necessary, but she didn't seem to mind.
"You seem a bit more together than your friends.", he said laughing, as he noticed Jenn across the bar, almost falling out of a stool.
"Oh, yeah, I can hold my drink a lot better than them.", she replied. "It's okay, though, we all deserve to let loose sometimes."
"Couldn't agree more.", he smirked.
"Wanna come back to my place?", she asked, without hesitating. Unashamed, she stared at him intently, her suggestive look emboldening him.
"Hell yes", he exclaimed. Impulsive. He shoudn't have said that.
Too late now.
She took his hand, waved goodbye to her friends, and they were gone.
Harry drove, cause she didn't have a driver's license. He was taken aback by that, asked her how old she was. She said thirty, raising her eyebrows, as if waiting for a bad reaction. Challenging him to say anything about her age.
"Twenty-nine myself.", he said, making her at ease. At least she was older than she looked. Harry didn't think he'd like younger-looking girls, and yet here he was.
They chatted absentmindedly for the whole short drive, his hand brushing against her thigh as he was changing gears. He felt goosebumps coming on his arms, every time that happened.
Electric.
They arrived at her place. She lived in a small one-bedroom apartment, with a tiny bright yellow two-seater sofa, a bookshelf overflowing with worn-looking books, two glasses and a coffee mug half-full on the coffee table next to a laptop.
Feels more like a home than my stupid mansion, Harry thought, and then smirked at his depressive thoughts.
Poor rich man.
She led him to her bed.
"Take off your clothes.", she commanded, as she sat on the bed and looked at him expectantly, taking off her boots at the same time.
"As you wish.", he said, grinning mischievously.
He had missed this part, the new, the exciting, the unknown.
"You have a lot of tattoos, Harry.", she stated, after she watched him painstakingly remove his garments one by one.
Harry chuckled nervously, running his hand through his overgrown locks, that were at that awkward length between short and long.
"Yeah, is that a problem?"
"No problem at all", she laughed and pulled him onto her on the bed. She swiftly took off her top. Harry realised she wasn't wearing a bra. How come I didn't notice that before?, he wondered to himself.
It was those eyes. He couldn't take his off of hers. They seemed to have darkened in colour, making them seem almost black now.
Lust.
He kissed her hungrily, realising instantly that that was what he was waiting for his whole life. To kiss those lips. That was his life's purpose.
Sparks were flying. Their chemistry was undeniable.
She seemed to think the same, cause she reciprocated the kiss with enthusiasm.
He took her skirt in his hands and pulled it down, taking her knickers and tights along with it carelessly, almost ripping everything apart.
He placed two fingers inside her, and she moaned loudly. He would do everything to hear her moan like that again.
He felt how wet she was, and couldn't help but smile as he was kissing her, feeling proud of himself.
She took him in her hand, her soft, warm hand. It took everything in him not to cum right then and there.
What the hell is the matter with you? You're acting like a bloody teenage virgin!, he thought, extremely annoyed at the hold she had over him. You've just bloody met the girl.
He ran his free hand through her long locks, slightly pulling at it. She seemed to like that, so he pulled even harder.
He continued to finger her, slow and fast and then slow again. He knew that drove them crazy. She was moaning even more loudly now, and he placed his hand over her mouth, laughing as he said, "You're gonna wake everybody up, babe. We don't want an audience now, do we?"
Rosie muttered, "No, we don't. This is just between you and me, babe." And then she moaned, longer and lower than before.
"You're driving me crazy.", he managed to spit out.
She reached over to her nightstand and took out a condom, passing it to him.
He removed his hand from her, and she grunted in protest.
He put the condom on as fast as he could, and climbed over her.
"I want you in me. Right. Now.", she said in between moans.
Harry obliged happily.
It was fast and it was slow all at once. He found himself stopping just to look at her for a bit. She looked even more like a wild animal now, her hair all over the place, her eyes looking at him hungrily, her fingers touching him all over, her full lips whispering his name.
Harry didn't want it to end. And yet, it was over in a matter of few minutes. Harry laid by her side whimpering. He could hear her panting, trying to catch her breath, her heart beating fast.
"That was amazing, Harry", she breathed, placing her arm on his chest, giving him a soft kiss.
"It sure as hell was, Rosie.", he agreed and heard her laughing.
Harry stayed there, staring at her bedroom ceiling, as he calmed himself down, trying to think clearly for once that evening. He had to get out of there soon.
He heard her heartbeat steadying, her breath slowing down, until she finally fell asleep.
Harry got up very quietly, trying his best not to wake her.
He put his clothes back on, and found his cellphone.
He typed a text and sent it.
"Coming home now. Not even a sip of booze, just as I promised. See you soon. x", it said.
He searched the pockets of his jeans and found what he was looking for.
The gold band that fit his right ring finger perfectly. He put it on and sighed.
He opened the door and left without a word, without a moment of hesitation, not noticing the pair of wild honey eyes looking back at him, tears threatening to spill over them.
Harry was pretty good at breaking promises.
----
I'M BACK BABY!
Had a sudden surge of inspiration and wrote this in one sitting. Hope you liked it! Sorry it's a bit long. Please let me know your thoughts.
"Oh come off it, Harry. You can't be serious!", Mark exclaimed, looking flabbergasted.
"I'm telling you, no more drinking. I promised.", Harry said, taking a slow sip of his soda, looking towards the bar.
They were hanging out at the pub as usual. It was a pub tucked away in a quiet little street, around a half hour away from London. It was the only place they had left. The only place he had left. To be normal. To feel normal. To pretend everything was the same as it was.
No one ever recognised him there. Or at least they pretended they didn't. And it was good enough for him. It was the same as he was doing. Pretending.
Mark had ordered his usual beer and was almost through with it, wondering aloud if he should order another one or switch to a gin. When Harry said he was sticking to sodas all night and every night from then on, Mark couldn't believe his ears. Bloody Harry Styles, doing everything from booze to weed to coke to everything all at once at his prime, was going stone cold sober.
"You're really good at making promises, aren't you?", his oldest friend remarked. Pretty shit at keeping them though, he thought to himself.
Harry smirked, his eyes never leaving their new-found target.
"So, are we still hanging out at the pub then? How can you be sober at a bloody pub? That's ridiculous, that is.", Mark ranted, visibly annoyed.
"Where do you propose we hang out then?", Harry prompted, knowing full well he didn't have an answer to his question.
"My place?", he asked, hopefully.
"Yeah, no thanks. Your place is full of your bloody screaming children. You know I can't stand that for more than thirty minutes at a time."
"Yeah, right. Sometimes I think you love those kids more than me.", he said, laughing.
Harry didn't reply. He was busy staring towards the bar.
Mark turned around annoyed, to finally see what his friend had been staring at for the whole time they were there. Yeah, remarkably shit at keeping promises, he thought again, realising that his friend was looking at a group of girls sitting at the bar doing shots. Staring at one particular girl.
He sighed. "Just go over there already. I have my bloody screaming children to get home to."
"Don't mind if I do", Harry said, chucking the remainder of his soda in one gulp. He picked up his glass and walked towards the bar, muttering a half-arsed goodbye to his friend.
Mark left without saying goodbye back, but Harry didn't care. Mark was as loyal as they come, and no matter what he got up to he always seemed to be able to forgive and forget.
He had gotten to the pub about ten minutes before his friend that night, which gave him plenty of time to scope out the place. It was almost empty, apart from the table with the three usual pals of the owner, who where there every day of the week, and a group of girls who were probably on a pub crawl, half of them looking already drunk.
Mark used to joke that the only thing keeping their favourite pub from closing were Harry's generous tips. Harry thought he was probably right, judging by how dead this place was on a Friday night.
He had sat at their usual corner table and ordered a soda, trying to convince himself that he was going to keep his promise. He waited patiently for Mark, whilst trying to listen in to the girl's conversation to pass the time. He was keeping his head low subconsciously, trying not to get recognised by them, as he was so used to doing, but they didn't even glance his way once.
"Next round's on me!", a petite blonde girl from the group shouted, her high voice way louder than it needed to have been.
A bunch of excited "woos" came from the rest of the girls, and they all cheers'd together when their beers arrived.
"To Jenn, for finally getting the promotion she was chasing after for fucking two whole years!", one of them said.
The blonde girl screamed excitedly, meaning she must've been Jenn.
Harry shamelessly checked them all out, one by one.
The girl named Jenn was the shortest of them all, but she screamed the loudest, and she seemed pretty drunk out of her mind already.
Vomit city, Harry thought, even though every cell of his being was yearning to be as drunk as her right now.
Next to Jenn, was another blonde, with long curly hair, blue eyes and a prominent nose. She was laughing constantly, her high-pitched laugh instantly putting Harry off, even though he thought she looked pretty hot in that short leather skirt she was wearing, contrasting her doll-like face.
Then, there was a really tall girl, probably about the same height as Harry with the heels she had on, with bright red lipstick and a white dress, light-brown curly hair and the same blue eyes as the weird laugh girl. Looks like sisters, Harry thought, and then his eyes fell to her right ring finger, where he spotted a gold band. He instantly reached for his own ring finger, absentmindedly rubbing the spot where a ring would be.
Moving on to the last girl, he thought, but he couldn't see her clearly from where he was sitting.
He waited for a bit, figuring she was bound to move around and he could catch a glimpse at her, but she was sitting pretty still.
He was staring at her all night long, while Mark was chatting away at him, blabbing about his wife wanting him to wash the dishes every night and how he was sick and tired of driving all around town to pick up his kids from some place just to take them some place else. Harry knew Mark loved doing those things, and he was just messing about, just to have something to say. Mark's life was pretty much the same every day. Harry could sense that he felt embarrassed about that, every time they got together.
When they were growing up, everyone thought Mark was going to be the one to make it. He was on his way to be a brilliant football player, everyone said so. And then he hurt his knee pretty bad one day at practice when he was 15, and he wasn't the same ever since. So he got a job at a bank, rose steadily through the ranks, got married to a plain girl, bought a plain house and had plain children. Pretty embarrassing, compared to his world famous best friend.
Harry wished he could understand how jealous of his plain life he was. And he pretended he wasn't. That's what he was best at.
The last girl was wearing high-heeled black leather boots. Black sheer tights, short black skirt or dress, he couldn't exactly tell. Toned legs underneath.
He caught a glimpse of long dark, almost black curls.
He heard her singing along to the song that was playing. Some song about sweaters. Warm, sweet voice. Decent, he thought.
He heard one of the others call her Rosie.
I like the name Rosie.
Mark had finally caught on. He told him to go over there, so Harry went. As if he was waiting for his permission.
He walked slowly towards the bar, settling across from her, asking the barman to get him another soda.
She turned around at the sound of his voice, and he could finally get a good look at her.
She had long black hair, very long indeed. It was loosely curled, and it gave her a wild look.
High-arched black full brows, verging on unkempt, but suiting her.
Piercing eyes. Almond- shaped, honey coloured, almost yellow in certain lighting. Shooting daggers at him. Feral.
Harry was taken aback by how intimidating she looked, almost unapproachable. He took his soda in hand, ready to get back to his table, disappointed.
And then she smiled. She smiled at him. Big, beautiful, genuine smile. Reaching her eyes, making her squint, tiny lines appearing next to them.
Oh, sweet Rosie.
Harry was hooked. And so was Rosie, it seemed, cause she excused herself from the group and went around the bar to sit next to him.
"Wanna buy me a drink?", she asked, smiling that big smile of hers.
Bold.
"Don't you think you've had enough?", Harry asked, smirking back at her.
"How about I buy you one then?", she remarked.
Very bold.
Harry laughed, and motioned to his soda. "Can't. Going sober."
"Oh, that's okay.", she said, still in high spirits. "I'm Rosie. And you are?"
"I'm Harry. Nice to meet you.", he said shaking her hand. Soft, warm, hand. He held it slightly longer than necessary, but she didn't seem to mind.
"You seem a bit more together than your friends.", he said laughing, as he noticed Jenn across the bar, almost falling out of a stool.
"Oh, yeah, I can hold my drink a lot better than them.", she replied. "It's okay, though, we all deserve to let loose sometimes."
"Couldn't agree more.", he smirked.
"Wanna come back to my place?", she asked, without hesitating. Unashamed, she stared at him intently, her suggestive look emboldening him.
"Hell yes", he exclaimed. Impulsive. He shoudn't have said that.
Too late now.
She took his hand, waved goodbye to her friends, and they were gone.
Harry drove, cause she didn't have a driver's license. He was taken aback by that, asked her how old she was. She said thirty, raising her eyebrows, as if waiting for a bad reaction. Challenging him to say anything about her age.
"Twenty-nine myself.", he said, making her at ease. At least she was older than she looked. Harry didn't think he'd like younger-looking girls, and yet here he was.
They chatted absentmindedly for the whole short drive, his hand brushing against her thigh as he was changing gears. He felt goosebumps coming on his arms, every time that happened.
Electric.
They arrived at her place. She lived in a small one-bedroom apartment, with a tiny bright yellow two-seater sofa, a bookshelf overflowing with worn-looking books, two glasses and a coffee mug half-full on the coffee table next to a laptop.
Feels more like a home than my stupid mansion, Harry thought, and then smirked at his depressive thoughts.
Poor rich man.
She led him to her bed.
"Take off your clothes.", she commanded, as she sat on the bed and looked at him expectantly, taking off her boots at the same time.
"As you wish.", he said, grinning mischievously.
He had missed this part, the new, the exciting, the unknown.
"You have a lot of tattoos, Harry.", she stated, after she watched him painstakingly remove his garments one by one.
Harry chuckled nervously, running his hand through his overgrown locks, that were at that awkward length between short and long.
"Yeah, is that a problem?"
"No problem at all", she laughed and pulled him onto her on the bed. She swiftly took off her top. Harry realised she wasn't wearing a bra. How come I didn't notice that before?, he wondered to himself.
It was those eyes. He couldn't take his off of hers. They seemed to have darkened in colour, making them seem almost black now.
Lust.
He kissed her hungrily, realising instantly that that was what he was waiting for his whole life. To kiss those lips. That was his life's purpose.
Sparks were flying. Their chemistry was undeniable.
She seemed to think the same, cause she reciprocated the kiss with enthusiasm.
He took her skirt in his hands and pulled it down, taking her knickers and tights along with it carelessly, almost ripping everything apart.
He placed two fingers inside her, and she moaned loudly. He would do everything to hear her moan like that again.
He felt how wet she was, and couldn't help but smile as he was kissing her, feeling proud of himself.
She took him in her hand, her soft, warm hand. It took everything in him not to cum right then and there.
What the hell is the matter with you? You're acting like a bloody teenage virgin!, he thought, extremely annoyed at the hold she had over him. You've just bloody met the girl.
He ran his free hand through her long locks, slightly pulling at it. She seemed to like that, so he pulled even harder.
He continued to finger her, slow and fast and then slow again. He knew that drove them crazy. She was moaning even more loudly now, and he placed his hand over her mouth, laughing as he said, "You're gonna wake everybody up, babe. We don't want an audience now, do we?"
Rosie muttered, "No, we don't. This is just between you and me, babe." And then she moaned, longer and lower than before.
"You're driving me crazy.", he managed to spit out.
She reached over to her nightstand and took out a condom, passing it to him.
He removed his hand from her, and she grunted in protest.
He put the condom on as fast as he could, and climbed over her.
"I want you in me. Right. Now.", she said in between moans.
Harry obliged happily.
It was fast and it was slow all at once. He found himself stopping just to look at her for a bit. She looked even more like a wild animal now, her hair all over the place, her eyes looking at him hungrily, her fingers touching him all over, her full lips whispering his name.
Harry didn't want it to end. And yet, it was over in a matter of few minutes. Harry laid by her side whimpering. He could hear her panting, trying to catch her breath, her heart beating fast.
"That was amazing, Harry", she breathed, placing her arm on his chest, giving him a soft kiss.
"It sure as hell was, Rosie.", he agreed and heard her laughing.
Harry stayed there, staring at her bedroom ceiling, as he calmed himself down, trying to think clearly for once that evening. He had to get out of there soon.
He heard her heartbeat steadying, her breath slowing down, until she finally fell asleep.
Harry got up very quietly, trying his best not to wake her.
He put his clothes back on, and found his cellphone.
He typed a text and sent it.
"Coming home now. Not even a sip of booze, just as I promised. See you soon. x", it said.
He searched the pockets of his jeans and found what he was looking for.
The gold band that fit his right ring finger perfectly. He put it on and sighed.
He opened the door and left without a word, without a moment of hesitation, not noticing the pair of wild honey eyes looking back at him, tears threatening to spill over them.
Harry was pretty good at breaking promises.
----
I'M BACK BABY!
Had a sudden surge of inspiration and wrote this in one sitting. Hope you liked it! Sorry it's a bit long. Please let me know your thoughts.
Inspired by ‘When the party’s over’ by Billie Eilish
Warning: Contains mature content.
Buckle up, guys, it’s gonna be a long one.
Another party. Another meaningless conversation with a stranger. Another night spent waiting for it to end. Another day gone by without seeing him.
To someone looking from the outside everything seemed the same. And yet it was quite an unusual Saturday night for you.
By now, you had found yourself drifting away from everybody, eventually standing in the corner of the room, alone, nursing a vodka cranberry. You were never one to be the miserable wallflower at an uproarious party. You were usually right in the middle of the room, a drink in your hand, dancing wildly with a person you just met, not caring what anyone thought, simply having fun.
You weren’t having any fun right now. You just wanted to go home.
You couldn’t help but think of him. He wasn’t one to shy away from parties, and yet you soon found out that he declined the invite to this one. And you knew it was because of you.
…
You met him at a party very similar to this one.
It was some sort of an awards after party, which you forgot the name of as soon as you had your first drink. You didn’t give a shit for awards, even though you had earned yourself a rather impressive amount, which were now permanent residents of your mother’s mantle piece back in England. Being an actress was enough of an achievement for you, you didn’t care about having lots of money, fame and awards. You just felt lucky for even being able to do what you loved the most, and surround yourself with incredible people doing the same thing. Acting was about the art for you, but you still found a way to balance it out by having the time of your life everywhere you went, secretly afraid that it was a matter of time before it was all over.
You were known for your easy-going attitude, and the way you never took yourself too seriously. It was surprisingly refreshing to your fellow actors, and you were always the first to get an invite to anything. Which is exactly why Harry Styles felt like he simply had to get to know you.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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heyy i was wondering if you were going to make a part 5 to its hard to be sorry? i rlly loved that one
Hey! I actually did make a part 5, but I must’ve forgotten to link it at the end of part 4. fixing it rn. you can find it here: https://peterfriggingpan.tumblr.com/post/182901693177/its-hard-to-be-sorry-part-five-finale
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
hi! idk if it’s just me but the master list link doesn’t work. not sure if i’m doing something wrong lol
HI! Yes, it doesn’t work, I’ve fixed it a hundred times and it still stops working eventually, idk how to fix it anymore! you can find it here though: https://peterfriggingpan.tumblr.com/post/177233548497/masterlist
if anyone knows how i can make it work pls let me know!
hey icon idk if you’re still active but i was wondering if u ever did a part five to ur harry fic about saying sorry? if u did could u drop a link? hope alls well
hey hun! sorry for the delay, haven’t been active in a while. here you go :) https://peterfriggingpan.tumblr.com/post/182901693177/its-hard-to-be-sorry-part-five-finale
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