Harry Styles x Emily Ratajkowski & side Zayn Malik. 3k.
New York is big and bright, that’s how Harry describes it to anyone who asks.
As much as he loves the city and it’s sleepless, ceaseless nights; the bustle and vibration of life, he has no intentions of seeing any of that this time. It’s not that he’s grown tired of the big city; rather, he has other plans. It has been a month and a half of Instagram directs and 4 second snapchats featuring her big tits and waxed pussy. He’s seen so much of it that if he doesn’t actually get it, Harry might die of blue balls and all that would remain, his odes and sonnets to her.
Summary: Felicity’s life in New York is perfect. Perfect job, perfect friends, perfect boyfriend. But the life she’s been living for the last seven years is a lie. And there’s only so long this lie can last…
“Hey Felicity?” Sin asked, making the blonde pause by the door and turn back toward her assistant with a questioning look. “What were you dreaming about anyway?”
Felicity frowned. How could she tell Sin about the dream without giving away that she was a fraud? How could anyone in New York understand her crazy past and the blonde boy that haunted her dreams. ‘What do you want to marry me for anyway?’ she’d asked him at only twelve years old standing in a darkened wine cellar with a bottle of wine they’d stolen off a table at a wedding reception they’d both grown tired of being at. Even now she could remember the way his blue eyes never left hers when he leaned in close and said ‘so I can kiss you anytime I want’. And kiss her he did. Or at least, he would have, if it hadn’t been for the wine glass he’d knocked over, shattering in the process when he’d moved in for the kiss.
“Felicity?” Sin questioned, pulling her from her thoughts.
“Oh, you know, I can’t even remember now,” she answered finally, with a tight smile. She cleared her throat and headed out. As the elevator door closed behind her, she pushed away the memories of the two children that she dreamed of far more than she’d ever admit to.