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isa

harry styles, the infamous fuck boy of doncaster high. while walking out of another random girl's house harry spots an angel, an angel on top of a grassy hill adorned with fluffy chestnut brown hair effortlessly sweeped to one side. lush eyelashes that he would count each strand any day. perfect cheekbones, so perfect that the slight shine of the setting sun sits perfectly on top of the apples of his cheeks. pretty, pretty, pretty pink kissable lips drawn into a smile. and most importantly, his eyes. his eyes that's bluer than the sky, clearer than the sea, and brighter than harry's future. a beautiful ocean harry's willing to drown in any day. stepping closer to the said angel, harry notices his cute little nose has a handful of fading freckles on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose that harry wants to kiss. "louis, we gotta go!" a dyed blonde suddenly shouts to the brunette angel. "coming nialler, hold on!" louis said getting up while dusting off his black skinny jeans and only then harry notices how much he can utterly dominate the small angel and his perfect bum, his perfect face, his perfect body sculpted by the greek gods themselves. harry snaps out of his thoughts when he looks back to the angel, louis who is now running after the blonde -well, now known as niall. walking home harry has only one thing on his mind the louislouislouislouislouis, the pretty brunette angel that harry has been so blessed to have stumbled upon thinking of how perfect those think pink lips would look wrapped around his cock, and suddenly (not surprisingly) harry's gotten hard after only fantasizing about getting a bloody blow job and only then harry realizes i've barely met the pretty angel with a gorgeous face and perfectly perky bum and i'm already so far up the heavenly bum. and if harry wanked off of the image of louis riding his dick then no one had to know.