#Hazza Naked
Note
harry and louis have a kid but aren't together anymore but everytime Louis get the kid back to harry he stays and they fuck
"Tired him out at the park?" Harry asks, holding the door open so Louis can come in, their four year old slumped into his shoulder. His dark curls are sticking up a little all over the place, cherub face slacked in sleep.
"He's going to be a footie legend. I'll telling you, Haz. Fucking magnificent." Louis praises in a hushed whisper, handing over the overnight bag with a grin. "Legendary."
"Did you feed him anything other than chicken nuggets?" Harry rolls his eyes fondly, shuts the door behind them witha solid click, the lock automatic.
"Yeah, 'course. Did the whole routine, bath and cuddles before this." Louis rolls his eyes, leads the way as the pair of them go to put their son down. Kisses to forehead and Harry turns on the white noise machine while Louis pulls the Peter Pan blanket up over the toddler's shoulders, makes sure he's in tight, before the sneak out the door and softly shut it behind them.
"I'll be back on Thursday to get him, alright? Same time?" Louis asked, starts making his way slowly towards the front.
"Louis," Harry murmurs, that low tone drawn out, accent thick. Louis knows what it's all for even before he turns, doesn't stop him from inhaling sharp at the sight of Harry opening his robe. He isn't even wearing lingerie this time, just naked skin and a splatter of familiar tattoos.
"Hazza." Eyes roving, Louis settles back on Harry's flushed cheeks, his bitten bottom lip.
"You could stay," Harry grins a little devilish, an angel with horns.
"I could." Louis agrees, of course he does. What the fuck else is he supposed to say when Harry arches his back a little like that?
"You should." Backing towards his open bedroom door, Harry beckons with his finger.
"Alright." Louis sheds his jacket on the way. He won't be leaving for a while.
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"What are you doing?"
Louis froze and looked up at Harry, hand on the door handle.
"I'm coming in like I normally do?"
"But- I'm getting changed," Harry stated, looking between Louis and his bedroom.
"I know that, Harold. Nothing I haven't seen before."
"But-"
"Harry, you were literally naked in the flat this morning," Louis explained, huffing slightly.
"Yes, but you were just Louis then. Now you're Louis who I'm 'dating' and it's just weird."
"Nothing's changed, Hazza. I'm still the same. We're still the same. But if you want me to stand outside, I will. You've set a boundary- and I respect that. Yell me when you're done, yeah?"
"Will do. Thanks, Lou," Harry mumbled, cheeks flushing red slightly.
#snippet#also#i am definitely asleep#this may end up being for my omegaverse fic#however we shall see
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Anonymous asked: I wish you would write... A Disney princess!AU (like cinderella or sleeping beauty or snow white) where both of them are princes just that they follow the same general plotline (for example H could be prince charming and L could be the one that got put to sleep or hidden somehow/some reason).
>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<
You don’t have to say you love me (Just let me adore you)
Fiery sunlight flashes through the pendant soaring through the air, its broken chain trailing behind like snapped heartstrings.
Wrenched out of a waking dream, confusion and shock overwhelm Harry as he lurches on the shifting deck. Reeling yet frozen, he scans the insanity before him.
In his enchanted absence, chaos has usurped his throne. Niall, Liam, and Zayn are all racing about, attempting to contain the mayhem. And he’s… Why is he in his purple ceremonial robes? Why is he at sea? And the strange man a few metres away, who has just lost the pendant—what’s his name?—Ben. Why the bloody hell is Ben covered in sea creatures? Only his outstretched hand is visible, clawing for one end of the broken chain that’s sailing just out of reach.
The horrifying truth catapults into Harry’s chest. Caught within the magic bound into that necklace, he’d almost married this stranger. But this isn’t the man he loves.
Fear drives like a weighted anchor into his chest. Someone or something slams into him from behind.
Stumbling forward, Harry searches the quarterdeck desperately for the one person missing, the last person he remembers. Relief battles surprise and both cascade over Harry, unlocking his lungs beneath the flood-tide of emotion when Harry finds him.
Louis’s bracing barefoot against the opposite rail near Harry’s quarters, the captain’s cabin. The loose white shirt Harry first gave him, the one he’d flung off his own back when he’d found Louis stranded naked on the rocky shore three days ago, hangs haphazardly from one pale shoulder. The silent, shipwrecked sailor had struggled with the buttons then as though he’d never seen them before. Even now the shirt is unbuttoned halfway down his chest, one side tucked into his trousers as though Louis had thrown it on in a frantic rush to get here.
Ocean blues, wide like the ebbing tide, lock onto Harry’s. Harry launches through the melee of people and ocean life to reach Louis. Harry’s always hated low tide. Always felt like he was helplessly watching the shoreline as the ocean receded ever further away from him.
The circular pendant hits the deck and cracks. A golden flash bursts from the object, halting the tumult as it blinds everyone.
Harry’s heart surges into his windpipe as the beam zings across the deck, slams into Louis’s throat, and disappears.
Shock etches over Louis’s face. He pushes three fingers against his neck then swallows.
He opens his mouth… and speaks.
Harry’s world upends, throwing him back beneath the swirling waters of his own shipwreck eight days earlier. Up and down collide with past and present as the voice he’s dreamed of since that day comes to life and enchants him all over again with a single word.
“Hazza.”
**
Harry grins at the obvious curiousity scrunching Louis’s features. Whether he never could talk or the shipwreck that brought him to Harry’s shores left him too afraid to speak, Harry doesn’t know. But his beautiful features are so wonderfully expressive it’s as though Harry’s fluent in a language he didn’t realize he knew.
“What. Haz?”
Louis nods, glancing at the closed door they’d just come through after Harry’s mum, the queen, had shooed them out of her private chambers with a wave and that childhood name for Harry on her lips.
“It’s short for Hazza.” Why is he telling Louis? His mum never calls him Haz unless they’re alone, and now he’s adding to the slip-up?
Louis’s eyes light up with such pure delight that Harry’s heart skips a beat and promptly rolls over in his chest like it’s prepared to give up the ghost to the ocean depths. He tucks a wayward strand of hair out of Louis’s eyes. Countless brushings and his hair is as wild as it’d been when Harry found him yesterday. Untameable as the ocean that’d brought him here.
Mouth suddenly dry despite emotionally drowning, Harry’s tongue flicks out to wet his lip. He follows his heart over the ocean horizon that’s reflecting in those blue eyes. “You can call me that, if you want. Hazza.”
He’s officially lost his mind. Only his mum has the right to either name. But the soft, private smile Louis bestows upon him is so warm that Harry feels like he’s been crowned the prince all over again. All the adoration of the entire kingdom pales compared to the affection emanating from Louis now.
Louis’s mouth forms silently over the word, like he’s testing the feel of the name on his lips the same way he’s once again rubbing the ruffled silk cuff of the pale blue shirt he’s wearing between his fingertips. A flash of sadness momentarily dims Louis’ smile, but then it returns larger than before, crinkling the corners of his eyes, as though Louis still loves what neither of them can hear.
Harry would give up his claim to the throne for that smile.
**
“It’s you.”
The choked words burble up from his throat like bubbles through swirling seas. Two more steps and Louis’s in his arms. Holding Louis feels like the wild exhilaration of setting sail. Louis smells like saltwater air, a zesty ocean zephyr billowing the sails and guiding Harry ever onwards.
Unable to process, Harry tries to clutch Louis close and look into his face at the same time. His forehead bumps into Louis’s temple; his palm curves over Louis’s jaw.
“How is this-... I don’t-...”
Louis’s fingers fist in the purple velvet of Harry’s coat. “I’ll explain everything, Hazza, I s-”
Even though ragged with desperation, the vibrant sound of his voice shocks through Harry. Fantasy and reality collide and fragment into crystal clarity.
The man of his dreams is standing before him. Wide awake this time with no water filling his lungs, Harry refuses to lose Louis again.
He’d almost kissed Louis in the grotto before their boat upended. Now he ducks in to smash his lips into Louis’s before anything else can break them apart.
The port side of the ship runs aground over a submerged sandbar. A barrel careening across the deck slams into Harry in the massive shockwave surging over L'Esprit as she keels to starboard, wrenching Louis from his grasp.
“Sire!” His first mate Liam catches Harry around the waist, hauling him against the mainmast he’s got hold of. But Louis stumbles, unable to find his balance.
“No!” Harry’s hand catches empty air as Louis hits the deck, sliding with everything not held down until he slams into the starboard rail.
The ship shudders and stills, canted slightly.
Gripping the rail, Louis pushes back to his feet. Harry pushes away from Liam. The sun sinks over the horizon. A blinding green flash shoots up from the spot where she fell into the sea.
“Mary mother,” Niall, Harry’s helmsman, breathes nearby, quickly crossing himself.
Every sailor knows the superstition. The green flash. The impossible will be made possible.
Harry staggers, halting halfway to him when Louis freezes. The blood drains from Louis’s face right before he disappears from view, engulfed in the same golden magic that’d left the necklace and returned his voice.
The golden hurricane vanishes.
Pure disbelief consumes Harry.
Louis’ shirt and tattoos are gone, replaced with pale skin broken only with tiny translucent scales where his tattoos used to be. They flash golden in the last rays of light, trailing down to a magnificent fishtail. Iridescent blue, with each tiny movement the colour shifts, as though the ocean and all her colours are captured within. Speckled throughout are scales of coral red, deep and luscious.
Harry blinks. The illusion remains. Fin smacking against the wood, Louis struggles upright, bracing on his palms.
Harry’s dimly aware of those eyes locking back onto him.
Louis slowly shakes his head, the plea so obvious on his face. “Hazza, I can expl-”
A slow chuckle from the forecastle breaks through the haze of disbelief clouding Harry’s senses.
Ben rises to his feet, casually brushing off guppies and starfish. The smirk on his face transforms his features and a wave of disgust rolls over Harry.
“Even the ocean knows you don’t belong together.”
He’s speaking to Louis.
Louis shakes his head again, tail flopping once more as he tries to straighten his torso best he can. His scales are already wrinkling, drying out in the warm evening air. “You enchanted him with me voice! How was I-”
Ben cuts Louis off by holding up a hand, three fingers raised. “Three days. That was the contract. You had three days to find your true love’s kiss, no matter what.”
Harry can’t keep up. That word, love, shocks him into speaking, but only a noise comes out before Louis’s growling at Ben in an echo of that burst of impetuous fire Harry’s seen glimpses of these past few days.
“I love him.” The melody of Louis’s voice changes. “Please, Simon, just give me one more minute.”
But Ben only laughs again, that same light chuckle. It grows, steadily deepening into a throaty cackle. A cloud of black envelops him until that laughter emanates from the void, punching through Harry and the hearts of every sailor aboard.
The monstrosity left in the wake of that cloud and laughter has several sailors crying out in fear, backing away. The human half is older, greying hair and cutting eyes. Instead of a tail, the creature ends in thick tentacles.
Simon leers at Louis. “Your voice belongs to me now.”
He lunges. Louis throws himself back against the rail. His eyes find Harry. Time frees Harry’s legs. He dives forward.
Simon’s arm catches Louis around the chest. His tentacles lock around that beautiful tail. Louis’s fingers claw into the wood, but the suckers latching into his scales immobilize him.
They vanish overboard.
“No!” Harry slams against the railing in time to catch a final glimpse of iridescent scales choked by black tentacles disappearing beneath the white-capped waves. He tears the buttons of his waistcoat ripping the ornate fabric off. He grabs the railing to dive overboard.
A hand grabs his arm, wrenching him back.
“Majesty, are you mad?!” Niall stares at him in horror. “You’re human, Sire!”
A burst of agony-fueled anger surges through Harry. “I don’t care,” he roars, wrenching his arm free. “I love him.”
It doesn’t matter that he’s in love with a fish.
Niall grabs him again. “I know.” Voice softer, but no less intense, he shakes his head. “But the ocean floor is only a grave for the likes of us. You’ll be dead before you can get close.”
The pity in Niall’s eyes hurts Harry more than his next words.
“He’s lost, Harry.”
Refusing to believe that, Harry shakes his head, jerking away from the words. Something flashes on the deck.
The compass that’d been around Ben’s, no, that monster’s neck. Harry’s heart lurches into his throat when he recognizes it.
It’s his compass. Understanding that his first love would always be the sea, his mother had gifted it to him when he’d turned sixteen two years ago, so he’d always find his way home no matter how far over the horizon he sailed. He’d been clutching it when he’d gone overboard in the storm, and was so certain he’d lost it in the shipwreck.
Harry snatches it from the deck. The broken chain falls away but Harry can only stare as the familiar weight in his palm settles in a pained squeeze around his heart with a single flash of a memory.
**
Floating. Numb. Idle waves weaving over his legs. A comforting pressure over his torso.
Gentle fingers brush a wet lock of hair from his face. The stranded curl slides over his cheek. His fingers curl around his compass.
Distant voices. “Majesty! Prince Harry!”
The weight shifts, startled. Lips brush a soft kiss over his brow.
“Live,” that bright voice that’d just been singing, beckoning Harry towards the surface of his consciousness, whispers, quiet yet commanding.
“Your Majesty! Prince Harry!”
A hand smooths down his arm and slides over his palm. The weight of his compass vanishes with the fingers. Someone splashes away through the shallows.
Blinding sunlight pierces his eyes as he pushes them open. He’s alone on the shore. Niall and Liam are racing across the surf towards him.
**
“Your majesty!” Liam’s shout jars Harry from the memory. The ocean had claimed him, and the ocean had saved him. It’s not Louis’s eyes that were familiar. After all these years, Harry’s now certain the ocean has been familiar because it swirls in captured sunswirls in those eyes he’d finally found three days ago.
And like the ebbing tide slipping through his fingers, that freedom has once again sunk beyond his reach.
“Majesty?” Liam’s fingertips brush his elbow to get his attention. Sorrow washes his voice soft. “Your orders?”
Harry can’t look away from his compass.
The glass is cracked, as broken as the mechanism within. The arrow no longer points north, but west, towards the horizon. Angry tears blur his vision as frustration wells in the pit of his stomach. He’s spent years seeking the heart of the ocean, only to find it, only to lose him. Louis saved him twice and now Harry can’t help him.
Harry can’t follow.
Harry clutches the compass until his knuckles are white, riding the roiling wave of frustration desperately. A warmth bursts from the compass and flushes his palm. Startled, Harry jumps. Like sunlight shifting over the surface, the compass flashes with a remnant of that golden magic of Louis’s voice that’d burst from it earlier.
Hope flutters like twin swallows taking flight in his chest. Harry turns back towards the rail where the arrow is pointing.
The broken arrow moves with him, aiming ever onward in the direction Simon and Louis had vanished. Harry’s facing due west but the arrow now points north before him.
“Sire?” Niall’s eyes are wide. He crosses himself again, staring at the compass in Harry’s hand.
A grim determination sweeps over Harry. “Get us afloat, Liam.”
His first mate nods. As Liam turns, barking out orders to the rest of the crew, Harry pockets his compass and throws off the lavender waistcoat that matches the coat he’d already discarded.
Unbuttoning the top three buttons of his white shirt, he rolls his sleeves up and turns to Niall.
“To the helm, Niall. I’ve got a prince to find.”
>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<
(Of the three Disney-inspired ideas that came to me, I attempted with this one to stick as close to a direct retelling with Louis as the princess as the prompt requested. I’d also always wondered how Prince Eric knew where to find Ariel so he could help her defeat Ursula in the Disney version of Little Mermaid. I tried to answer that here. Hope you enjoy, Anony! I know it took a while. Moving homes can make writing time hard to find! And a huge thank you to you, Lily, for all your help, love!)
Have something else you’d like to see me write? Send me an ask (anon or no) completing the sentence ‘I wish you’d write a fic where…’
OT5 Superpowers
Invisible Louis
Only one bed (H-POV)
Only one bed (L-POV)
ABO new-omega!Louis drabble that became a fic on AO3.
OT4 Spy AU
Disney-Inspired 1: Liam/Harry/Louis as Niall’s three fairy godmother roommates.
#trackinghome#hlcreators#hljournal#1dsource#yourlarrysource#tracksintheam#larry fanfiction#1d fanfiction#drabble
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Here you go @hazza-tommo @liketwotiedships @seabiscuit15 😘😘
‘Did you forget your alphabet?’ Eric asked, biting back a laugh as Dele turned round and gave him the finger. He could just about make out the clothes on the hangers in Deles left hand and he recognised the bright Louis Vuitton (garish is he how recalled teasing Dele when he’d bought it) ensemble. Eric shook his head and giggled as Dele hooked the metal over the back of the bedroom door and stood back. From the bed all Eric could see was Dele’s bare back, the round swell of his arse just creeping above the towel wrapped loosely around his waist; the phone screen framed him nicely and he took a screenshot. ‘Not got enough photos of me half naked on there already?’ Dele asked, reacting to the sound of Eric’s phone clicking. Erics eyes lingered on the preview for a second as he hit save with his thumb and looked back up to see Dele walking towards the bed.
Eric chewed on his bottom lip as Dele leaned down to pick up the phone, watching Dele abs tighten and his bicep flex as he worked a few angles. He’d been working hard all break and it was showing, Eric had been getting update photos regularly and it had been driving him half mad. He’d also received a video or two and it was an understatement to say that he was glad that Dele was now only an hours drive away rather than in a different time zone.
‘Stop posing, the lads will be moaning you’re going to make them late,’ Eric quipped and Dele pouted, holding the phone high, almost above his head so Eric could see every dip on his stomach, the sharp cut of his v-line. He gripped at his phone, squeezing his fingers around the edge of the screen and he felt a tightness in his stomach. ‘Yes, I get it, you are hot, now get ready,’ he said and Dele lowered his phone, sticking his tongue out at Eric as he did so.
‘You are only saying that because you want to see me naked,’ Dele said in a fake mocking tone. Eric rolled his eyes but his stomach swooped again and he shifted on his bed. ‘I know that look Dier, you want to see me in all my glory,’ Dele teased, running his free hand over the top of his towel. Eric couldn’t even retort that Dele was wrong. He hadn’t seen him in person for a good few weeks now and he could feel the physical ache from having not touched Dele in a while as he watched those slender fingers dance across the white cotton.
‘It’s a shame I have to go soon or I’d put on a show,’ Dele said softly, pulling at the towel so it loosened in his hand. Eric suppressed a moan and shifted again, wishing he could literally reach through the phone and touch what was his. There was a soft almost swooshing sound as the towel finally dropped and Dele didn’t say anything as he placed the phone down. Eric squeezed his free hand into a fist as he realised Dele had placed him back down on the bed, leaning against the pillows. It was a low angle, one that framed Dele’s lower half perfectly and fuck if he didn’t need to be in that room right now.
‘You are a fucking menace you know that?’ he said and Dele walked towards the bed, running a hand over his chest, down his stomach and onto his hips. Dele’s skin was paler where his shorts had been and it was like a perfect framed this is what you’re missing right in front of his face. Dele span round and shook his arse at the camera, making Eric both laugh and a bit breathless at the same time. Dele was beautiful, he really was and he couldn’t wait to remind him of that over and over when he saw him in a few days time. ‘You’ll have Harry knocking down the door soon, stop peacocking and get ready,’ Eric commented and Dele gave him a wide smile. He walked back over, those supple thighs causing Eric’s heartbeat to speed up.
‘Do you miss me Dier?’ Dele asked, doing a sweep of his body with the phone before coming to a stop with his face filling the screen. Eric nodded and Dele’s face softened. ‘Me or my body?’ he asked and Eric wiggled his eyebrows making Dele giggle. Just as Dele was about to say something else a shout came from somewhere just outside his room.
‘Told you, hurry up Delboy, wouldn’t want the lads to know you’ve been shaking your arse for me now,’ Eric said and Dele quickly dropped the phone to his groin before lifting it back up again. Eric told him to fuck off and watched as Dele flipped the camera and kept Eric with him as he approached the mirror next to his wardrobe. He took the opportunity to take him in, drink in the sight of his boyfriend naked and glowing and all his. Dele smiled at him through the mirror and they were silent for a few seconds before another shout jolted Dele back into action.
‘Ok I need to get ready now.’
‘Send me a photo when you’re dressed.’
‘Will do, I’ll message you later as well.’
Dele flipped the camera back round and his face once again filled the screen. Eric smiled and hovered his thumb over the end call button before his eye caught on something over Dele’s shoulder.
‘Pick your wet towel up Delboy, how many times do I have to tell you?’ he said and Dele rolled his eyes and blowing a kiss, ending the call before Eric could get another word in.
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Fallout of the Century 🌑💔
Part 1. 🥜
Word-count: 4.5K
Warnings- This is very angsty, Mentions of cheating, falling apart, and overall depression.
Masterlist
Summery: Your wold has practically fallen apart when you walk in on something you weren't supposed to see. Causing you and your soon to be husband Harry Holland to call of your engagement. Months pass and you are just trying to put the pieces back together. Will you ever be able to sort your life out?
My head came up from under the surface, breaking the water around me. I let out a gasp as I rubbed the water from my face. There was a banging at the bathroom door before it swung open with force. He swung the curtain open, exposing my naked body. He had seen me this way before, so the sight didn't even make him bat an eyelash.
“Seriously peanut? I was out there for like three minutes calling you.” His tone was harsh and firm, this was not the first time this had happened. Ever since the break up I just wasn't the same anymore, and the only one who saw the bad was Harrison.
“Sorry,” I muttered , slipping back below the surface of the water. Harrison’s hands reached in and grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up.
“We are not doing this again peanut,” he groaned as he pulled me to my feet, soaking himself in the process.
“Harrison, I'm fine,” I tried to convince him, but he knew otherwise.
“I know tonight will be hard, and I know you'll want to bail, and I know that you will hate it, but I'll be right here, and so will Tuwaine. We have to try and put this behind us,” He pulled the towel around my shoulders and helped me out of the tub. He walked me to my bedroom and stood in the doorway until I had a pair of leggings and a hoodie on. “You sure you want to wear that one?” he asked. I looked down, noticing I had grabbed Harry's pink hoodie, because I was in such a haze. I felt tears rush to my eyes as I pulled it off and grabbed one of my own. We walked down to the living room and sat on the armchairs, waiting. My hair was still wet, and Harrison’s shirt was damp from helping me out of the bath, but I was sure no one would notice. Or care.
First to arrive was Tuwaine, he walked over giving me a hug and kissing my forehead before finding his usual spot on the couch. Next it was Sam, then Tom, and then finally. Harry.
He didn't look good, not like himself, he looked sad and hollow, but i tried to ignore it. Six months ago there would have been one more person with us, but six months ago seemed like a lifetime away.
Harry walked past me, without even so much as a glance, which was no different than I had expected.
Harrison pulled out the board game and arranged it on the table in front of us. I looked up and caught Harry's glance, he instantly looked away. I sighed and went to get up but was stopped by Harrison’s voice.
“OK, this is going to go differently tonight. No name calling. No snide comments. No outbursts. None. and if anyone does, their buy-in is instantly up for grabs and you forfeit.” Everyone shook their heads at the new rules Harrison had put in place. It sucked to think Harry and I were the reason for it, but that's the way life works sometimes.
Our monthly monopoly games had become nothing more than awkward, so when Harrison had brought it up last week at dinner I was instantly ready to find anything else to do, But he insisted I be there.
So here I am, sitting across from the love of my life, broken and damaged and completely regretting agreeing to this.
“You're on my property Y/N, pay up.” Harry said coldly to me. I grabbed the five dollars I owed him and handed it over. I felt bad for our friends, the tension between us was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. No one knew what had happened between us, but they all knew it had to have been bad.
“Where has Olivia been?” Tuwaine asked, not knowing where the girl had disappeared to. Truth be told no one knew, because I had told her if she ever showed her face or talked to any of them again I would do a lot worse to her than she did to me. I took a deep breath trying to keep my cool.
“I'm sorry Harrison, I just can't do this tonight,” I told him as I got up and stormed out of the living room. All I could think about was that night, the memories flashing through my mind.
“Harry baby, I'm home,” I yelled as I walked into our small apartment. I had been out of town on a business trip, but somehow made it home earlier than i expected. I had set my keys on the table and noticed a key chain that I recognized, but was not my fiance’s. I remember the tightening in my stomach as I walked down the hall and saw discarded clothing all the way to our bedroom. And when I opened the door, I was shocked to see the man I was set to marry in less than four months and my best friend laying naked and asleep in my bed.
There was a knock on my door and it opened slowly. I looked up expecting Hazza but instead saw the man I once would do anything for. “Can I come in?” He asked quietly. I nodded my head and scooted over on the bed giving him a spot to sit.
“They make you come up?” I asked him.
“No, they actually told me not to.” He said. “You still haven't told them?” He asked me softly.
“I have no reason to ruin the way everyone sees you, Harry,” I told him coldly. He nodded and I could see him chewing the inside of his cheek, a bad habit he had when he was stressed. “Stop doing that, you're going to put a hole in your cheek,” I told him. He laughed at that although it was a dry laugh.
“You know you're not the only one hurting Y/N,” He said boldly. I wasn't one to freak out, hell i was the calmest person i knew, but he had a way of just getting under my skin.
“No you're right Harry, I'm not. You must be devastated that you cheated on my with my best friend, you must be crushed that you wasted five years of your life just to throw it away over some dumb slut who was always out for your dick, You must be wrecked, not having to explain to all your family and friends that your wedding is canceled, and not having anything to tell them because your too loving of a person to ruin your ex’s reputation,” i took a deep breath trying to keep my cool, seemed to be a trend tonight.
“Well, you didn't exactly make the five years easy Y/N. I'm sorry I slept with Olivia, yes. But I'm pretty sure our relationship ended way before that,” I looked at Harry dumbfounded, our relationship had been perfect, never once was there any problems, until the week leading up to the fall out.
“Because I got a good job and was traveling more?” I demanded. He nodded his head and it took everything inside me not to punch him in the jaw. “Get out Harry,” I told him, annoyed with his presence in my room. “And take that stupid hoodie with you,”
He stood up standing at the edge of the bed and looked down at the pink hoodie, before looking back at me. I thought for a moment I saw the boy I had fallen In love with all those years ago shine through, but his face quickly contorted back to what he had become. "That one always looked better on you, keep it," he said as he walked out the door.
I wanted to scream and shout. I wanted to cry.
I wanted to feel anything.
But I just felt numb.
I walked around the apartment grabbing all the discarded clothes and Olivia's keys before walking back to my bedroom and throwing them on them sleeping in MY bed. “Forgot to clean up after yourselves” I shouted slamming the door closed. I heard rummaging around and Olivia shrieked.
“Oh my god what did we do?”
Harry came rushing out of our bedroom and found me standing in the kitchen. “Baby, i don't know what happened,” He was panicking. Maybe they had gotten drunk, maybe it was a spur of the moment thing, but no excuse would make up for it.
“I'm going to Harrison's, I'll be here to get my stuff in a few days,” Was all I told him that night. I walked out the door, my head held high and kept my composure until Harrison opened his door. I collapsed in his arms, every emotion flooding my body, I couldn't speak, or move.
I rolled out of bed and looked at my alarm clock. 2am. I was sure the boys would probably still be down there playing the game. I needed to go and get a glass of water, so I walked downstairs and to the kitchen. Just as I thought they were all still huddled around the coffee table, empty beer bottles all around them.
“Peanut!” Tom exclaimed as soon as his eyes saw me, “I thought you went to bed,” He was drunk, and I was sure he wasn't the only one.
“Need water,” I told him, giving him a weak smile.
“She sleeps with like five bottles next to the bed,” Harry laughed. I rolled my eyes and walked into the kitchen. I could hear some of the conversation from the kitchen but nothing sparked my interest until I heard Harry say. “Well if i would not have slept with Olivia then nothing would be fucked up, so its my fault anyway,” all the noise subsided.
I stepped out of the kitchen with my water in hand and looked at Harry who was sitting with his face in his hands, and everyone else was staring at him, with their jaws on the floor.
“Is that why you guys broke up?” Tom asked. He wasn't asking me, he needed to hear from his brother. I had kept all of the bad to myself, not wanting anyone to look at Harry like a monster. Cause i knew he wasn't one.
Harry didn't move his hands from his face, “I fucked it all up,” He groaned. I felt a twinge of guilt rush over me and I went to go comfort him despite how much he had hurt me, but Sam stood up as soon as he saw me take a step, shaking his head. I nodded and scurried off to my room, soon after I heard my door open, and Harrison walked in, flipping my light switch on. “You didn't tell me.” He said.
“Didn't want you to see him differently,” I told him quietly.
“With Olivia?” He asked as he walked over to my bed.
“Yeah,” I scoffed. “I'm not innocent in this though, so please don't feel sorry for me,” I told him.
“How are you not innocent?” He asked me.
I thought about whether or not I wanted to tell Harrison, would he think as low of me as Harry now did? “Before me and Harry got together. One night we were all out at a pub, and me and Tom snuck off and, had sex. The next day he told us he blacked out and didn't remember anything, so I never brought that night up. Me and Harry started dating like a month after that, but I kept that secret. Until I threw it in his face to hurt him.” I sighed. I didn't want to look at Harrison, I was scared he would look at me like a monster.
“That was before you together though, it's not the same nut,” He said, surprising me.
“Maybe not, but it was still shitty of me,” I told him. He shrugged his shoulders and then we started to hear yelling downstairs. Harrison got up and left to go see what was going on.
About an hour passed and the yelling had stopped and so had any noise. I assumed everyone had gone to bed or left. My door opened quietly and then shut. There was a shuffling as someone climbed into bed next to me. I rolled over and before my eyes even made out who it was, the smell hit me. So familiar yet so distant.
“Harry,” I whispered, looking at the ginger boy whose eyes were puffy and nose was red, surly from crying.
“I know,” He whispered. “I just, can I please, just tonight?” he asked. I wanted to be strong and tell him to get out of my room. I wanted to push him off my bed. I wanted to hate him. Truth be told, I missed him. Sleeping in his arms, his curly hair tickling my face as he snuggles into my neck, the sweet kisses he would litter my body with.
“Just tonight,” I told him firmly. A smile spread across his lips and he pulled my body into his, holding me close, instantly falling back into a routine we both knew so well.
“Hey miss,” A voice called from behind me. I turned to see Harry running after me.
“Harry?” I asked recognizing him from a few nights we had bumped into each other at clubs and parties.
“Oh you remembered?” He asked surprised.
“I mean a face like that is pretty hard to forget,” I chuckled.
“I was wondering if I could take you out? On a date?” He was nervous to ask me.
“Yeah, id- Id like that a lot,” I told him, a smile spread across his face as we exchanged numbers.
I didn't know then how much I would love him. Also how much I would hate him.
I opened my eyes and looked down to see the familiar arms still around me holding me tight. He was drunk last night so i hadn't been mad about him crashing in my bed, but i wasn't sure i wanted to lay here cuddling him. “Harry,” I said as I wriggled my body trying to get out of his firm grip.
“Five more minutes,” He groaned.
“Harry,” I said a bit more forcefully, making his arms loosen their grip so I could get up. “I have to get ready for work, and you should probably go,” I was practically whispering.
“Peanut,” He started, but then shook his head. “You're right, I should go,” he pushed himself up and then stood up from the bed. He looked at me for a minute standing at the end of my bed with my arms crossed, I was sure I looked pathetic. He stepped forward, coming dangerously close to me. He reached out letting his fingers brush across my cheek. I felt the tears rush to my eyes, but held them back. “Will we ever be able to fix this?” He asked quietly. I bit my bottom lip, hard, trying to figure out how to respond.
“Is there anything worth fixing anymore?” I asked him. Looking up and seeing the hurt in his eyes.
“I think a life with you is worth fixing,” He muttered. “I'm sorry,” He said before he walked out of my room.
I threw myself onto my bed and groaned. My life honestly sucked. I got out of bed and got ready for work. I walked down to the kitchen to see Harrison drinking a cup of tea. “Hazza,” I smiled.
“I don't like it,” he said softly. I turned to him as I poured my coffee.
“Don't like what?” I asked.
“Him trying to weasel his way in. you deserve more than him, and he knows it,” i was caught off guard by his sudden anger towards Harry.
“Harrison, I-” I was quickly cut off as he stepped forward, grabbing my face and pushing his lips into mine. I was going to push him away, but I found myself kissing him back. He broke his lips away from mine and left the kitchen without so much as a word. Leaving me standing there, dumbfounded and confused.
I grabbed my keys and left the house. Maybe work would be less confusing than my morning.
“Try it,” Harry pushed the sushi in my face.
“Harry, it has raw fish,” I complained, pushing it back.
“Babe just take a tiny bite, you might just like it,” He told me. I rolled my eyes and took the smallest bite, chewing for a minute and then spitting it in the napkin.
“Awful, just like I thought,” I told him.he laughed as he pushed the sushi to the side and leaned forward, kissing me.
“I love you,” He whispered for the first time.
“You do?” I asked. He nodded his head and kissed me once more. “I love you, Harry,” I told him.
Work flew by, faster than I would have hoped. My day had come to an end and I was sitting in my car, debating on what to do, when my phone started to ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it's me,” id recognize that voice anywhere.
“What do you want Olivia?” I asked.
“Can we just talk? I miss you.”
“I don't want to talk to you, and i don’t miss you,” i hung up the call without letting her respond. I just wanted to crawl into a whole and die.
I drove home, and parked in my spot. I wasn't sure I wanted to go in. Harrison had kissed me this morning. Which in and of itself was weird, but add on top of that that I had spent the night with Harry. I threw my head back hitting the headrest, I let out a loud groan as I grabbed my phone and dialed a number I had dialed too many times to count.
“Are you OK?” His voice was full of concern and worry, I hadn't called him in months.
“I'm so lost, Harry,” I said quietly.
“Like you need me to come and find you? Or metaphorically?” He asked me, i could sense the smirk through the phone.
“Metaphorically, I guess.” I told him.
“I can come to you if you want,” He sounded hopeful and eager.
“No.” I just wanted to talk to you,” I muttered. Why had I called him anyway? Did I enjoy torturing myself? “Do you remember the first time you told me you loved me?”
“The sushi date? Of course I do nut,” He said quietly.
“I was sure that that was forever. That day, I knew it was you, and it always would be. Looking back, we were so happy. So why did you do it?” I had never given him a chance to explain what had happened that night, every time he would try I would storm off or yell. I think deep down I didn't want to know the truth, but if I was going to figure out what I was doing I needed to know all the facts.
I heard him sigh through the other side of the phone. “I missed you, probably too much. She had come over for some reason, and I had been drinking, I don't even remember it. I just remember waking up, to you throwing clothes and shoes at us, and then seeing your face. I… I didn't know it was possible to physically feel your heart shatter, but that night I did. I felt my whole world slip out from under me,” He sounded sincere.
“I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Tom. That wasn't a fair secret to keep, I should have told you as soon as I knew he was your brother,” I said.
“It was none of my business, It happened before we even knew each other,” he said.
“I love you Harry. I do. But i don’t what to do,” I whispered.
“I love you, I'll keep fighting for you, for us. This can't be how we end, ours was the epic one, the love story for the ages,” he said.
“And it was the fallout of the century,” I whispered as I hung up.
I walked into the house, not sure what to expect. Harrison was standing in the kitchen cooking something and Tuwaine was on the couch watching TV. “Smells good,” I told Harrison as I walked over to beside him.
“It's your favorite,” He said, giving me a big smile.
“What's the occasion?” I asked. He looked at me with a goofy grin and his crystal blue eyes.
“Just thought you could use a little pick me up,” He leaned over kissing my forehead, which was not out of the ordinary.
“I definitely do need it,” I said as I went to the couch, throwing myself down next to Tuwaine.
“Work?” He asked me.
“It was fast, so not bad” I smiled at him.
“And are you OK? I mean last night was kind of a lot for all of us,” He muttered.
“I will be, in time. I just need to figure out what I need and want,” he looked over his shoulder to Harrison who was distracted with his cooking.
“I don't know if you know this or not, but he's in love with you, and I know Harry still is too. Things are probably going to get really complicated,” He warned me.
“I don't even know what to do. Harry crushed me, like soul shattering pain, but I still love him. And Hazza, i mean i love him so much, but I've never considered him as anything other than a friend,” i told Tuwaine.
“Well, you never had to consider Hazza as anything else, cause you had Harry, and now you don't. So you can make the choice for yourself. Maybe Harrison is who you were meant to be with, and Harry was just keeping you close until Harrison was ready,” he whispered, shrugging his shoulders. I laughed at that.
“Damn,” Harrison said from the kitchen. We both looked back to see him staring at us.
“What?” I asked him.
“I missed the sound of your laugh,” He said, making my cheeks go red. Maybe Tuwaine was right.
We ate dinner and talked and laughed about our days, before turning in for the night. Tuwaine’s room was on the opposite side of the house than mine and Harrison’s, so Harrison walked me to my bedroom door.
“I'm sorry about this morning, that may have been out of line,” he ran his hand through his wavy blonde hair.
“You don't need to apologize to me,” I told him, grabbing his hand. “I just don't know if I'm ready to move on, or not,” I whispered.
“Well, when you decide you are, you know where i'll be,” He leaned in, pushing his lips softly against mine before walking across the hall to his room. As if my life wasn't already confusing.
“Harry!” I groaned as we hiked up the tall hill.
“Just a bit farther, baby, I promise the view will be worth it,” He told me. We reached the top of the hill just as the sun was setting over the horizon. It was a breathtaking view. I turned to Harry, or where he should have been, but he wasn't there. I turned around to see him down on one knee in front of me holding a little white box.
“I know this is cheesy, but I'm a little cheesy. I've known for so long that you were my forever, my happily ever after. I can't imagine my life without you in it, and I don't want to. Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” He flipped the box open revealing a white band ring with a black and blue stone, something I had always said I wanted.
“Oh my god Harry, yes i'll marry you. A million times yes!” I exclaimed , pulling him to his feet and jumping into his arms.
How did we go from that to now?
I was sitting on my bed, going through pictures when my phone vibrated. I looked down and it was a text from Harry.
‘You think I could swing by for a minute?’
I knew I should tell him no, but I was curious as to what he wanted at this hour.
‘Sure’ I texted him back. I heard the front door open almost as soon as the text was delivered, and then my door opened and he stepped into my room, shutting the door behind him.
“You came before texting?” I asked him.
“I forgot to, until I pulled in,” He sighed. “What are you doing?” He asked me.
“Going through all these pictures. I want to frame a few, just don't know which ones,” I told him. He walked over grabbing one of the photos that I had in a pile, it was from when he proposed, a stranger had taken it for us. The picture itself was blurry but it was still my favorite.
“That one was always my favorite,” He said, setting it back down. I nodded in agreement.
“So what brings you over?” I asked quietly.
“Um, Olivia called me.” He said. My eyes shot up, my brows were furrowed and I could feel the anger rising inside of me. “She said you won't talk to her, and she just wants to apologize or something,” he sighed. “I didn't answer her, that's just what she said on my voicemail,”
“Well i’m not going to call her, i don’t need her stupid apology,” I said blankly. “It sucks knowing my best friend came over to my house and took advantage of my intoxicated fiance. like I could maybe forgive you, in time. But I want to kill her, with every fiber of my being, I want to hurt her.” I took a deep breath, and looked at the pictures in my hands.
“Yeah,” was all he said.
“Maybe we should try dating,” I told him quietly.
“Each other?” He asked me.
“No, I mean other people. We should probably put ourselves back out there, and who knows maybe we will hate it and come back together. But it's been six months, we have to start moving on,” I sighed.
He stood there looking at me, his eyes full of hurt and confusion, and I felt bad, but I knew that this was something we both needed. “Yeah we probably should do the dating thing, i'm not sure where I'd even look, but yeah,” He said. I rolled my eyes and laughed.
“There is that girl at the coffee shop, she used to eye fuck you,” i told him.
“The barista? Shelby?” I nodded, recalling how irritated I used to get when her eyes were all over him. “Maybe I'll ask for her number, or something,” He laughed. “And you?”
“Hmm?”
“Where will you look?” he asked.
“For dating? Oh I don't know.” I said, which was a blatant lie.
“Okay, well I should go,” he smiled before leaving my room and then the house.
I moved the pictures that were scattered across my bed to my dresser, and laid in my bed. I regretted telling Harry we should date other people, I think seeing him with someone would crush me even worse. I knew it was for the best though, we needed to give ourselves this, the chance to move on, to be happy, without each other. We had spent so long together that I had forgotten how to do the dating thing.
“I found my dress,” I teased as I climbed onto Harry's lap. “It accentuates all the best parts of my body,” I leaned in letting my lips brush his earlobe before whispering “Your favorite parts,”
He grabbed my ass squeezing it hard.
“Can't wait to see you in it baby, I'm sure I'll be blown away,” he smiled sweetly.
I leaned in to let our lips devour each other, until we needed more.
And he never saw the dress, and he probably never would.
Part 2 🥜
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Harry H being jealous because guys keep flirting with the reader, but she's his and only his 😍😍 love your writing on Brad omg
I’m making this a birthday special cuz u know<3
Harry checked his wrist once again. Its only been two minutes by the last time he checked his watch. His leg bouncing up and down continuously. His mind trying to focus on his screen and the images he desperately had to edit, but nothing seem to work right in this morning. Even taking a quick sip into his hot tea, earlier than supposed, got him cursing under his breath. The reason for so much unrest was due to the fact that he woke up in a partially empty and cold bed. No warm soft body comfortably warming him and hugging him. No kisses along his face, naked shoulders and back that he remembered, as he was brought back into the real world and opened his eyes.
If regret killed, Harry would be dead. For sure that, now, he would not refuse your invitation for a run, early in the morning. He wasn't much of an exercise type of person and because of that, his lazy self mumbled a sleepy no as he hide his face into his pillow, but now that meant more time around you. Instead, he spent the first hours of his birthday, alone, cold, sitting at the kitchen counter and working, or trying to.
He didn't know why he was so clingly and mushy. Perhaps due to the possibility of being his (and his twin) own day or Valentine's day. Maybe, it was because he's been away filming with Tom long enough to be craving you in a way that hurted his chest and leaving him almost distressed. But he also felt a little jealous, thinking that his girlfriend would be spending the first minutes of his day next to his older brother while she could be easily glued to him while he worked, sitting on his lap, eating a good breakfast or laughing about some funny joke.
He smiled mentally at the thought of her cuddling him in his hoodie. Hands inside his front pocket searching for gums and stealing one of his airpods and giggling at his playlists.
Of course he felt stupid to think that his brother might even try something with his girlfriend. He was aware that he would never do that. But at this point, Harry knew how charming and flirty Tom was. He tought about the time girls came up to him only to meet his brother and how easily he would score with just the right amount of words and grins. But he knew his brother was unware of his natural cheeky smile and eyes, that made Harry relax a bit and also grow impatient.
There was no need to suffer from antecipation, morning runs don't last forever, right? He thought, long sighing and getting back to his unfinish project.
But that was until he heard the back door open and see Tom and (Y/n), laughing at a private joke, one that Harry couldn't really understand. Tom gesturing and insisting on her to enter the house first, hand on her back and calling her darling.
There it is, the unintentional flirt. Harry thought.
However, his previous thoughts carried away like the wind, when he saw her enter the kitchen. Her face pink and slightly sweaty. A few strands of hair escaping her ponytail and falling into her face, headphones hanging on her neck. Her shorts and tshirt, besides being loose gave her a perfect look, making her real, perfectly real. Her smile growing when she saw him sitting at the computer. Not even on his birthday. She mentally condemned him for working too much. Moving her way in his direction, excited like childrens run to their presents on the christmas morning.
She moved in slow motion from his perspective. The previous nonsense disappearing and his body sinking into the chair, defeated by her beauty.
"Already awake? Hazza!" She giggled, quickly rushing to hug him but stopping on the way, bitting her lip and looking at his eyes considering what to do. He oppened his arms, gaving her the permission and she hugged him tighly. "Happy Birthday, babe." Her voice came out muffled by the fabric of his sweater but still audible and he thank her with two kisses on top of her head. One for the birthday wish and the other for being valentine’s. "Again.." She looked up meeting his eyes and displaiying a low smirk, he winked at her and blushed, remembering the previous events in their bedroom during the night.
"Happy Birthday to my little bro." Tom's soft and emotional voice broke the moment and Harry moved his arm, making more room for Tom to join the hug. Harry was a hugger, everybody knew. “Also, gross guys” His fake gagg made them laugh.
It was stupid to thing those things earlier. Harry thought to himself and squeezing the hug. There was no reason to worry. You were his and only his.
"What are you three divs doing? Its 8am!" Harrison frowned his eyebrows as he stepped into the kitchen and saw three people hugging. Impossible not to laugh. "Can I join?"
#Harry Holland#harryholland#harry holland imagine#hazzaholland#harry holland request#harry holland#Harryholland#holland boys
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That's not fair! There's already strip pong with Tom and now you wrote strip poker with Tom as well. What about haz? :(
worry not, my dear nonnie, i’m gonna give ya some strip pong smut with hazza boy 👀🔥🥵
NSFW / +18 content under the cut so beware!!
The plop of the ping pong ball dropping into the red beer cup made you scream in victory, quickly starting a silly celebration dance in only a loose shirt and panties. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, let a long sigh out at his new defeat.
“Come on, drink it up, boy!” you excitedly declared in a sing-song voice, eyes a bit blurry and cheeks glowing red from all the beer you already drank. “And striiiiip that down for me!”
Harrison sent you a death glare – which meant no harm since the boy couldn’t even see pretty clearly himself, then took the ball out of the red cup before gulping down the beverage in it straight away. With not a single care anymore (or at least until Tom and Harry would return to the flat tomorrow), the boy threw the now empty cup over his shoulder. He was standing on one side of the kitchen counter, almost in his birthday suit since the only remaining piece of clothing he had on was his white boxers.
And let’s be honest, you were definitely enjoying the view of his slight drunk self – the messy dirty blond locks on top of his head, naked and toned torso, big hands grabbing onto the marble counter with his large biceps on display that could carry you around and pin you on whatever surface so easily to fuc–
But your train of thought got suddenly interrupted as something was thrown in your face, not hurting you at all. A bit startled, you quickly grabbed the object to then notice it was…
“A sock?” you exclaimed, frowning at the tiny grey fabric before caughting your boyfriend’s look once again with that huge smirk of his. “Wait– socks don’t count as stripping!”
Harrison shrugged his shoulders. “And why that, babe? That’s still clothes to me” he then added, now laughing at your pouting face because oh does he know you hated losing.
And the gods legitimately switched camps after that game. Because you lost for good. As you were about to take off your shirt, which would leave you utterly naked to the blonde’s eyes, you had just enough time to grab onto the edge of the fabric when Harrison almost teleported beside you, picking you up before laying your back on the kitchen counter.
He didn’t bother about your shirt, only pushing the loose material fully up your breasts to have it on display and then put your legs on his broad shoulders so he could fuck you there. Some empty cups fell on the floor as Harrison started pounding into you, the wait finally over, releasing the frustration he accumulated because of all your teasing. He was weak for you, just like you were for him, his unconditional ‘temptress’ as he liked to call you during those times.
“You tease– ah shit, always tight for me” Harrison growled in your ear, his chest pressing harder against your bare one at each of his thrusts.
You moaned in response, letting your cries of pleasure echo in the empty flat. Your nails scratched his nape, tugging at his short hair back there which made him groan into the skin of your neck. Harrison’s grip tightened under your thighs as his movements kept increasing, the sweaty skin of his hips hitting your slowly reddening backtighs. Your grip on his hair became harder so you could have him as close as possible to you. But the melodious moans coming from you were too enchanting that his lips had to envelop yours, to taste their warm and luscious wetness once again.
You pussy began clenching around him, his cock rubbing and pushing through your walls to their deepest. “Haz, please–” you moaned, biting your bottom lip while keeping your eyes glued on his baby blue ones.
Harrison felt himself twitch inside of you at such a pleading voice then nodded rapidly as a silent but clear understanding, his Adam’s apple bobbing before he swallowed hard. So without further ado your boyfriend sped up his thrusts hard and fast, the friction of your sweaty bodies making you whine even more as your orgasm got even closer.
“I’m close” you whimpered ever so quietly against his lips as Harrison grunted “me too, baby”, now thrusting repeatedly on your sweet spot that made you arch your back from the overstimulating feeling. You screwed your eyes shut as he bit around your collarbones a few times, your orgasm washing over you in a parade of moans and cries of pleasure.
With your still spasming walls around him as you released, your juices started to slowly slide down his shaft, making the smack of your skin against his even lewder. Harrison came a few seconds after you, his fingers now digging into your hips as he groaned, a light moan still getting lost into the harsh yet hot kiss he was now sharing with you.
As you both slowly came down your high, Harrison laying on top of you lazily – and still inside you –, you chuckled against his lips which brought a satisfied smile on your boyfriend’s face. Then his warm hands gently went on your lower back to help you sit properly while still resting between your legs. You cupped his face to initiate another kiss, this time slower and full of love for one another.
“I’m not cleaning all the mess” you said quietly, lips brushing against his with a grin. Harrison couldn’t help laughing at this.
Tagging some mutuals and cuties✨ @allegra-writes @tom-holland-is-spiderman @queencharry @tetralea @hotforharrison @soft-haz @fanficparker
Blurb inspiration
#blurb#harrison osterfield#harrison osterfield smut#harrison osterfield x reader#harrison osterfield blurb#harrison osterfield oneshot#harrison osterfield one shot#harrison osterfield imagine#harrison osterfield fluff#harrison osterfield x you#haz osterfield#haz osterfield x reader#haz osterfield smut#haz osterfield blurb
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mobile masterlist.
ORIGINAL STORYLINE
meeting and dating.
- the coffee shop incident; harry and the missus meet for the first time.
- hot-tub quickie; harry and the missus have sex in jeff’s hot-tub.
- anal; harry and the missus experiment with anal play.
- sunburn; the missus gets badly sunburnt.
- clingy cuddles; harry and the missus lay in bed together on a rainy day.
- anne’s icloud hack; personal photos get leaked online.
- injury; harry comes home from dunkirk with a bad hand.
- big toe tattoo; the missus makes fun of harry’s tattoo.
- pool handjob; the missus gives harry a handjob in a greek pool.
- surprise dinner; harry surprises the missus with a homecooked meal.
- first time oral and ice play; harry eats the missus out for the first time.
- another man photoshoot, 2016; the missus joins harry on his photoshoot.
- red coat; harry wears a red coat during sex.
- timing; harry cums prematurely.
- break up novella, part one.
- break up novella, part two.
- break up novella, part three.
- break up novella, part four.
- break up novella, part five.
- for when you’re missing me; the missus records something special for harry.
engaged and married.
- getting permission; harry asks the missus’ parents for permission.
- choosing the engagement ring; harry goes and picks an engagement ring.
- proposing; harry asks the missus to marry him.
- telling the families; harry and the missus announce their news to their families.
- telling the boys; harry and the missus announce their news to the boys.
- early ideas; harry and the missus discuss their wedding.
- first concert; one direction are back on tour.
- walking around together; harry and the missus stroll around cardiff.
- poolside loving; harry and the missus get intimate in a hotel pool.
- sick; the end of the tour and harry falls sick.
- bridal party and groomsmen; harry and the missus pick their chosen ones.
- venues; harry and the missus talk about potential venues.
- cake shopping; harry and the missus go cake tasting.
- suit shopping; harry goes suit shopping.
- dress shopping; the missus shops for a wedding dress.
- stag-do and hen-party; harry and the missus celebrate before their wedding.
- the wedding; part one.
- the wedding; part two.
- reception party; harry and the missus celebrate their wedding day.
- honeymoon; harry and the missus honeymoon in santorini.
- reminiscent; harry and the missus reminisce over the past.
- simba; harry introduces the missus to what simba means.
pregnancy, labour and delivery.
- talking about having a baby; harry and the missus discuss starting a family.
- baby making; harry and the missus make love to make a baby.
- “we’re pregnant”; harry and the missus find out they’re pregnant.
- news; part one.
- news; part two.
- “did you know?”; harry talks about their baby.
- twelve weeks; the missus hits twelve weeks.
- bump; harry notices her bump for the first time.
- award shows and fan greetings; the missus joins harry at the ama’s.
- flights home and belly flutters; the missus feels the baby kick for the first time.
- gender reveal; harry and the missus find out they’re having a girl.
- names; harry and the missus discuss names.
- cravings; the missus wants to eat weird food.
- nursery; decorating the nursery begins.
- protective; harry gets worried.
- pregnancy frustrations; the missus doesn’t handle the heat well.
- jamaican babymoon; harry and the missus and gemma and michal head to jamaica for a quick getaway.
- “she’s not longer out little secret, is she?”; harry and the missus announce their pregnancy to the world.
baby (0-3).
- happy birthday, missus; harry and persephone surprise the missus.
- chewing daddy’s fingers; harry doesn’t mind alfie teething on his fingers.
- ears; persephone has an ear infection.
- newborn; harry changes persephone’s first nappy.
- birthday boy; harry celebrates his birthday with his family.
- valentine; harry and the missus go out for valentines.
- insecure; harry feels insecure.
toddler to teens (4-19).
- sick daddy; harry’s sick and persephone cheers him up.
- fight; alfie walks in during an argument.
- alfie’s eighteenth; alfie celebrates his eighteenth birthday.
- a-level results day; persephone receives her a-level grades.
- accidental accident; rose has an accident in front of connor.
- kidneys; rose struggles with a urine infection.
- sheets; harry catches rose washing her sheets in the middle of the night.
adults (20+).
- welcome to the family; persephone introduces jack to her family.
- great parents become grandparents; persephone and jack announce their pregnancy.
*
harry tags.
- harry talk.
baby love.
- 2010 | 2011 | 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018.
- gucci campaign, 2018.
- gucci campaign, 2019.
- live on tour, 2017.
my show - eventim apollo, october 30, 2017.
- live on tour, 2018.
my show - london’s o2, april 11, 2018.
- bbc radio one’s live lounge, 2017.
*
au tags.
frat-boy harry.
- broken promise.
- party.
college dad harry.
- “i’m pregnant, harry”.
- ella.
divorce (completed).
- settling for divorce.
- “i miss you”.
soldier harry (completed).
- letter.
- home.
the missus and little mix.
- apple music festival.
- get weird tour.
- the brit awards, 2016.
- the brit awards, 2017.
single dad harry | harry bakes.
- the one with the meeting.
- the one with the first date.
- the one where harry might experience more heartbreak.
- the one with the third date.
- the one where asher is sick.
- the one where yn meets asher.
- the one where yn meets harry’s family.
- best friend harry.
best friend harry, single mum yn and elias.
- x factor harry.
teen-dad/x factor harry.
- university student harry.
- big brother harry.
- teacher harry.
teacher harry, single mum yn and isabella.
- professor harry.
- doctor harry.
- neighbour harry.
- gang harry.
- inexperienced pornstar harry.
- fifty shades.
- alex.
- the walking dead au.
- ceo yn.
- painter yn and photographer harry.
*
blogmas, 2017.
december 1st, 2017.
P first Christmas
december 2nd, 2017.
Omg please do more Persephone and jack for blogmas!! I am in love with them. Maybe something where jack and P are out shopping and they split up in a department store and Jack starts walking around and looking at engagement rings and H and the missus go over and have a little chit chat with him?
december 3rd, 2017.
Maybe at Christmas Eve after being with H and his family for a couple of days the whole Styles family and the missus would be sitting under the Christmas tree and opening presents. There would be a little box with the name of our lady and inside of it there would be a promise ring and Harry would be the cutey he is and go up to the missus and tell her a little monologue then put the ring on her finger.
december 4th, 2017.
Harry and the miss being best friends and he takes her home to celebrate Christmas and he takes her virginity on Christmas Eve.
december 5th, 2017.
Harry and the missus and the kids spending Christmas at a vacation
december 7th, 2017.
Alfies first xmas
december 8th, 2017.
Oh but imagine harry giving his girlfriend a border collie or rough collie or a husky puppy (i love) for Christmas because she had dogs her whole life but now she’s away from home and miss them so he surprises her with one amd she’s crying (I would cry so much) but then she’s like “oh no I can’t have her at my flat :(” so he tells her to look closely and there is a key to his house around the puppy’s neck
december 10th, 2017.
I just love the idea of them having a brand new baby around Christmas time
december 11th, 2017.
btw, you should write one a about Uni Harry and Y/N spending Christmas with Y/N’s family for the first time and him begin all awkward at the begging and everybody asking them how they met and what his goals in life are and yeah I think that’d be reallyyyyyy cute
december 13th, 2017.
Set in 2017. The missus Amelie and Harry spend Christmas with Gemma and Anne and Michal at Anne’s Home x
december 15th, 2017.
for blogmas or regular hazza begs for a date night after one of the baby is born like 1 year old
december 17th, 2017.
How about the missus and Harry spend Christmas at her home and Anne is really sad
december 18th, 2017.
Maybe one where Darcy tells the family she is pregnant on Christmas Day after all the struggles she’s been through?
*
blogmas, 2018.
december 1st, 2018.
someone else mentioned pubes talk, and I thought it would be hilarious if Harry was trying to do something romantic like cooking a Christmas Eve meal but naked and there was singe-ing (not singing!).
december 2nd, 2018.
Are you doing Alex requests for Blogmas? If so, maybe his and Y/N’s first Christmas together since the war and he decides to propose to her?
december 3rd, 2018.
what about pornstar harry making a festive christmas special w y/n?
december 4th, 2018.
What if the missus gives Harry a gift on December 1st and it’s like an advent calendar but each day is a new position/place to have sex up until Christmas.
december 5th, 2018.
Could you do maybe a sadder one after Ellie and Alfie’s miscarriage and for Christmas they all cheer him up
december 6th, 2018.
Maybe they’re in la for Christmas one year because of Harry’s work when Persephone is like 4 and she’s missing the snow and does like being away from the UK for Christmas and harry just feels really bad like he ruined Christmas
december 8th, 2018.
Did doctor harry having to work on Christmas
december 9th, 2018.
First Christmas together and Harry is under the weather trying to act healthy.
december 10th, 2018.
angst should be best friend harry! where they get in a fight about her flirting and being with someone else at a christmas party when she already kinda had an “unsaid” thing with harry where they’re friends with benefits but she didn’t know how he really felt plssss uGh
*
additional tags.
- nsfw
- cockwarming
- instagram prompts.
- yn’s tour instagram prompts.
- text prompts; 1 - 99 | 100 - 199 | 200 - 299 | 300 - 399.
- what are they doing now?
- who is most likely to?
- would you rather?
- gemma styles.
- fionn whitehead | fionn talk.
- louis tomlinson.
- liam payne.
- niall horan.
- videos.
- harry fantasies.
- recommended writers and stories.
#mobile masterlist#masterlist#harry styles#harry#harry styles masterlist#harry styles imagines#harry styles prompts#harry styles blurbs#harry styles concepts#harry styles writing#harry styles links
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let us heal, first. together.
in which they’ve never loved and lost so much.
-
“h-hazza?”
he swore his ears had gone deaf for the past three days.
his eyes went wide as saucers and his phone slid from his fingertips, rings clattering against the screen as he attempted to scramble to catch it. he was, simultaneously, sitting up off the couch and standing, tripping over the blanket that was still wrapped around his legs and feet. he muttered a bloody hell and kicked violently, therefore tripping with now his entire body and nearly falling face first to the ground. he thanked whatever power for the wall that he caught himself on, because the last thing his girl needed was hearing a loud crash and a bloody-nosed fiancé.
her voice surprised him. it echoed through their home over the rain that was pouring outside, reverberating off the walls. it intensified her voice, made him believe something was wrong. he had waited on the couch until she finished and got out of the shower, so he could lead her back to her rest, but he must’ve not heard her quiet footsteps in the hallway.
her silence was terrifying.
harry was an absolute mess—a comical one to any outsider—but not after the circumstances and not after a lack of hearing her sunshine voice for more than seventy-two hours; he was bound, allowed, to go absolutely deranged. he was stumbling down the hallway and peering into every room, finally tripping into their bedroom.
“baby..hey..you okay? what..do you uh...erm..do you need something?...hi, my angel.”
you sound like a desperate idiot. he cursed himself for stammering like that of a shy young boy, his smile soft and timid and his eyes softening the more he stared at her. be gentle, they all told him, it’s a fragile time.
her back was to him, her curls arranged in a way that was messy enough to be called an effortless type of beautiful. she turned her face a bit, showing her teary profile to his view, his heart plummeting from the hopeful standpoint he had attained. harry stumbled into the room on clumsy feet—“oh, sweetheart..”—stopping in front of her as her eyes blinked at him. she was sat on the duvet, body naked as she shivered and she gazed at him with wet irises. they were burning, a flaming hot hue that torched his soul and extinguished the breath escaping his lips.
“can’t— can’t breathe, hazza.” her chin trembled and her fingers scrambled for his, her eyes welling with fresh tears as she swayed in her spot, dizzy. “feelin’ like my lungs collapsed.”
please god, please give her tears to me. harry’s voice rang in his head as he knelt down in front of her, his lips falling to her whitened knuckles, desperately sponging kisses onto her skin. her throat bobbed and she whimpered, looking at his eyes blankly—unfocused—her view trailing to his cheek and down to the floor. he quickly threw off his jumper and pulled it over her head, his smell and warmth enveloping her skin. it only made her more dizzy, the sleeves and midsection pooling around her frame.
her fists clenched, her fingers wrapping around harry’s palm and squeezing.
“oh lovie, j-just— breathe with me, okay? in…and out…” his eyes searched for hers as her face looked down, refusing to meet his eyes. he put a hand under her chin, gently nudging up her face; when she did look at him directly, her tears had begun to race down her cheeks.
“i-i’m so sorry, h.” she whispered.
he paused, his breathing ceasing and his eyebrows creasing inward. she whispered again—“so sorry”—her voice breaking and her hand squeezing tighter. his mind was reeling about what she could possibly be apologizing for. his eyes searched for hers desperately, his free hand reaching for her cheek, his palm pressing to her skin. “for what, lovie?” his voice was gentle and his touch was light, paranoid of startling her.
she actually whimpered then, and she shook, her hand falling to her stomach. her breathing came out more shallow and her eyes squeezed shut as she struggled upon her sobs. “i’m sorry hazza.” she choked, her eyes blinking up at him hastily before looking right back down at her caressing fingertips. tears trailed down her cheeks and off her jawline, crashing onto her hands as she whined loudly.
“hey...can you look at me?” he whispered, his hand falling on top of the one on her stomach, his fingers interlocking with her own. he realized that there was no way she was going to answer his question of what she could possibly apologizing for.
“i miss her.” she sobbed, her hand slipping out of harry’s to go up to her mouth, trying to mask the cries begging to be released. “and it’s all my fault.”
harry’s eyes filled with tears and he shook his head rapidly, both hands moving to cup her cheeks and force her eyes to meet his. “lovie, look at me.” his voice broke off and she shook her head again.
her hand fell from her mouth and into her lap limply: “it’s all my fault, hazza, i-i did something wrong—i didn’t try hard enough and...i failed her.” her tone was quiet yet sharp and harry actually flinched, for he couldn’t believe what she was actually trying to convey to him.
her sobs quieted a bit on their own, but meekly, she whispered to him, eyes avoiding his figure. “i failed you, too, h.”
his breath staggered and he sobbed once, then swallowed, throat bobbing and his fingers moving to gently regrip her face. “love.” his tone was so desperate as he tried to prevent another cry from escaping his throat. “you did not fail me. i don’t want to hear something like that from you, ever.” he was stern, eyes blazing and carving into hers. “losing... losing our girl is not your fault.”
“you wanted her so bad, more than anything you—...” she whispered and shook her head. “you’ve dreamed about a daughter since i met you.” she put her hand on top of his and smiled brokenly. “you loved her more than anything— and that’s why i’ve failed you.”
he swallowed. he couldn’t admit that there was truth to her broken words; but if there was one thing she was so wrong about, was that she let him down, and that their miscarriage was her fault.
“you haven’t failed me because she hasn’t left us.” he smiled so smally and so sadly. “i still love her.” he whispered. “i love her, whether she’s here or not.” he looked at his wife softly. “but i love you, more than anything in this entire world.” harry’s hand brushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear and holding her cheek. “we’ll never forget her.” he shook his head, “our first little baby, and we’ll keep trying for her sister or brother.” he whispered.
she sniffled and looked at her stomach.
as much as he wanted to drill into her that none of this was her fault, it wasn’t the time; she wouldn’t be able to comprehend the idea of that. his poor girl was shattered beyond belief. “you’re gonna be an amazing mum.” he mumbled. “whenever that may be.” harry pet her cheek, trying to memorize her eyes more than he already had. “but let us heal, first. together.” his voice was shaky and soft and she looked up at him.
her eyes blinked at him, teary and sad, and she nodded slowly, swallowing loudly. they sat there in silence for a while, harry’s hands carding through her hair and rubbing at her stomach and knuckles. her whimpers died down into sniffles, and her fiancé was cooing at her when she gazed at him with wet eyes.
“can you hold me?” she whispered.
he didn’t answer. he simply stood and moved towards the top of the bed, pulling back the covers. harry gently scooped her under her knees and across her back, lifting her and placing her into the sheets, his body coming to be parallel to her. his fingertips caressed her hips, pulling her in close, until her face was tucked into his throat and his hands stroked her back.
“rest, my love. let your mind rest.”
#harry#harry styles blurb#harry styles angst#harry styles au#harry styles imagines#harry styles#harry styles imagine#angst
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On A Pretty Neck
Artist!Y/N
Mentions: Fluff
Y/N wants to paint Harry nude.
It was supposed to be a simple schedule. Finish up the ceramic sculpture, turn in that landscape painting project, put on the second coat of clear varnish on her other painting, then pop the question to Harry. Maybe she added tons of things before the Harry thing just because she wanted to put it off, but she wouldn’t ever admit that. Either way, she had planned to ask him the question when his tour ended. He’d already planned to come stay in her apartment once he was finished touring and doing concerts and had plenty of free time to spend with his girl, but he didn’t know what she was going to ask of him. Y/N wasn’t even sure she had the guts to do it.
They’d been dating 3 1/2 years, so she shouldn’t be nervous, not one bit. But as she paced her apartment, bumping into the corner of her couch repeatedly because her mind was just that clouded at the moment, she was ready to throw up from anxiety.
Is it really that weird to want to paint your boyfriend naked?
He was the most beautiful person Y/N had ever laid eyes on, undoubtedly and irrevocably. She was 100% sure she’d never find anyone who made her feel the way Harry does. But what if somehow someone got a picture of the painting, then everyone would know what Harry looked like naked, and that would put a bump in his career. And what if he says no? What if he doesn’t feel comfortable enough to do it and Y/N looks like an idiot? What if he thinks it’s weird?
“Love?” Harry’s voice rings through her front door.
Her eyes blow wide, stopping in her place and head snapping to look over at the door as it slides open. Harry steps inside, shoving the key that she’d given him to her apartment back in his pocket, a glowing smile on his face that almost had Y/N’s prior worries completely melting away. For a second, she’s consumed by the simple happiness that he’s here, in front of her, arms out as he scoops her up into a tight hug. “Hazza,” She breathes, eyes fluttering shut as she’s wrapped by him once more, arms tight around his neck and burying her face into his soft curls.
His arms are firm around her waist, face buried in her neck, pressing soft kisses to any skin his lips can reach, mumbling, “Missed yeh like crazy, Y/N.”
She giggles softly as they pull away, “Y’saw me when you stopped here for your shows at Madison Square. I was there both nights, silly.”
He pouts, “That was a month ago, lovie, much too long without yeh kisses.” His pout slowly turns to a smirk as he leans down some, large hand cupping her face as their lips brush. “Didn’t yeh miss me?”
She hums teasingly, fingers weaving through his hair, nudging her lips a bit onto his, “Maybe I did now that you mention it... ‘M just glad y’didnt forget all about lil’ole me while you were being a big time rockstar. Had to fend for m’self, y’know.”
Harry kisses her softy, biting gently at her bottom lip before asking lowly, “Y’tryna tell me somethin’, lovie?”
She shrugs, “Just that after a month or so...” She leans up, trailing kisses up his jaw until she’s reached his ear, “Y’fingers can only do so much when y’know what your missin’.”
A low growl leaves Harry’s lips, and it’s less than a second for him to scoop her up, wrapping her legs around his hips as he carries to her bedroom, already fumbling for the condom in his pocket.
+
“Y’love New York, you know it,” She mumbles happily, pressing a small kiss to his bare chest before leaning up so their faces are level, “And y’love me hopefully.”
Harry chuckles, hand sliding up her side, feeling her soft skin that he missed so dearly under his fingertips, then tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “Yeah, cuz after three years I wouldn’t be sure. I knew I loved yeh after one month, lovie, don’t be silly.”
Y/N blushes, kissing him softly, feeling herself relax even more than before as she feels his hands on her, his bare body pressed to hers under the white duvets of her queen sized bed. Harry hums at her touch, tongue slipping past her lips, deepening their kiss more. It feels too good, almost, even after the time they’ve been together, neither getting tired of something as simple as a kiss.
“That’s good,” Y/N says softly between their kisses, then pulling away some, “It’d be a bit embarrassing f’me if y’didnt. Don’t think I’d ever be able to love again, honestly.”
Harry rolls his eyes, though unable to contain a grin, “Oh, shut up, y’sap.”
She bites her lip a bit as she watches him, hand running down bicep, thumb caressing his skin. The question had managed to pop into her mind again. Now was the time, she decided. “Haz,” She mumbles, seeing his eyes meet her, a small hum being his response to let her know he’s listening. “C-Could y’do something for me?”
He nods, brows furrowing some as he sees her nervous expression, “Anything, darling.”
Y/N’s cheeks flush, a little huff leaving her lips as she prepares herself to say it. A little whine leaves her lips as she sits up, straddling one of his thighs as she sits back on her heels. She’s still completely naked from their previous actions, but Y/N knows better than to be insecure around Harry. “I-I’m gonna sounds stupid,” She starts, “But just think about it, okay? And you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Harry frowns, “What’s got yeh all worked up, lovie?” He rests a hand on her hip, other hand gripping her thigh and pulling it over his leg so she straddles his hips, “Y’can ask me anything.”
She opens her mouth to do it, to finally ask him about what she’d been wanting to do for a year. Though, she closes her mouth again. “Don’t laugh, yeah?” She quietly asks, hands resting on his tummy as she looks down at him. Their position would seem weird to any other person, both completely naked, Y/N sat atop Harry’s lap and not a bit of themselves not exposed to each other, but a serious conversation going on between them.
“Wouldn’t ever laugh at yeh,” Harry promises.
She sighs, looking at him for a couple seconds before inhaling deeply. “I want to paint you,” She blurts, then adding, “Nude.”
Harry’s taken back a bit, as that was not what he was expecting. “You want to paint me... nude?”
Y/N blushes, though nodding, “I just think y’body’s so pretty, all y’freckles and moles, your muscles but also your little rolls. I’ve just always wanted to, y’know, really get close and be able to paint every inch of you...” She’s getting more embarrassed by the second, “Well, not every inch as in, like, your cock, I just-“ She lets out a little huff, one that Harry finds adorable. “Forget I said anything.” She climbs from his lap, walking over to the door so she can go sit on the couch and wallow in self pity. She sounded so stupid!
“Hey, hey, lovie,” Harry pouts, standing up and quickly catching up to her, wrapping her up in his arms from behind. “Why’d y’leave me? Now, I’m cold,” He whines, peppering small kisses behind her ear.
“I sounded so stupid,” Y/N sighs, arms sliding over his that were wrapped around her, “I know y’probably weirded out, but-“
“‘M not weirded out,” Harry chuckles, “You’re an artist, Y/N, and it’d be an honor to have yeh paint me.”
Her cheeks couldn’t get any hotter then, turning to look at him, “Y’serious?”
Harry smiles, “As serious as serious gets, honey bunch.”
She’s quiet, just looking at him for a second before a little squeal leaves her lips and she’s attacking him in kisses. Harry grins as she kisses his lips multiple times, then some around his cheeks and nose and eyes. “C’mon, what are we waiting for?!” She excitedly says, rushing over to her drawer to pull on new panties and a bra, then throwing on a baggy t-shirt and some pajama pants. Harry chuckles at her excitement, grabbing his boxers from before, pulling them on along with sweats and a t-shirt. Right as he’s got his shirt on, she’s excitedly gripping his hand and dragging him out of her apartment. She can’t stop her giddy smile as she drives them to her studio, just a couple blocks from her apartment.
As they’d reached the building, Harry following Y/N as she led him through the place, the two getting in an elevator and going up to the top floor, Y/N inserting a card before it would move. Harry’d never seen her studio, at least not this one. She’d moved to a new studio a couple months before his tour started. When they walk in, Harry realized this one is much bigger than her last one. It has a large glass wall over looking the city, now a soft pink glow cast from the sky and into the open room. It’s mainly just open space, large shelves holding all of her canvas paintings, looking like almost a hundred of them stacked together, another corner holding a wooden table along with a clay wheel, along with a huge block of clay sat in a tightly sealed plastic bag. Then, there’s large canvas’ with half done paintings strewn on the other side of the room: a portion of a face, a landscape, etc. Harry can even see a big figure covered by a large plastic drape, what he can only assume is a clay sculpture.
“This one’s so different from your last,” Harry comments, looking around. He smiles fondly as he sees her work, and he can even recognize a small stack of canvas’ where he can get glimpses of green eyes and brown curls. He glances to his lovie happily, somehow feeling very proud that she paints him in her free time.
“The rent is more, but,” She shrugs, “It’s worth it. I was running out of space for all my paintings, but most of them are up on the market right now and just waiting to be shipped out, so some more space will clear up in eventually.”
Harry nods, seeing her going over to a huge drawer filled with untouched canvas’, her flicking through different sizes until she decides on one, pulling out a huge one. Her arms have to spread out almost completely to hold it, and she sets it on a heavy duty easel, then scrambling back over, but opening a smaller drawer. “Uh,” She looks over at him, a couple pencils in her hand, “Can you, y’know, get naked?”
Harry chuckles, teasing her a bit as he pulls his t-shirt off, “Hm, so eager, lovie. Didn’t we just have sex?”
Her cheeks flare, a sight Harry will never get tired of, “Shut up.” Harry pulls of his boxers and sweats in one swipe, then walking over to her as she continues to look through her vast array of drawing pencils. “Can’t find an HB, lovie?” He knows her so well, well enough that he’s memorized what kind of pencil she likes to do her outlines in the best.
Y/N nods, then letting out a little cheer as she locates one, plucking the pencil out and turning to him. She stops as she’s she takes in his nude state, a little smirk on her lips as she taps his bum. “Hey, no touching the art,” Harry jokes, following her back to her set up canvas. She rolls her eyes, setting her pencils down and walking behind the canvas to the open spot, white walls and floors already offering a perfect blank slate to decorate her scene however she wants it. It takes her a bit to look at what props she has before she figures out exactly how she wants to do this. Grabbing a large white block, she drags it over to him. “C’mere,” she mumbles, gently tugging him closer to it, then instructing him to rest his knee on it and sit back on his heel, other leg casually strayed in front of him. “Just relax y’back,” She says, nodding some as he does so so he’s slouched a bit, not too much, but looking comfortable. “Now, look up as if y’looking at something on the ceiling... rest your hands on y’thighs... perfect, stay right there, hazza.” She backs up to look at him, then a little giddy smile crawling on her lips as she jogs back up to quickly press a kiss to his cheek.
He breaks out in a smile at that, before Y/N is rushing over to her canvas and grabbing her pencil. He can only hear her pencil moving, quick little strokes, then erasing...then more pencil strokes. Harry sits there for a good half an hour, the first couple minutes spent of him taking little glances over at her just to see her cute little expressions as she’s focused. He always loved watching her work, watching as her tongue poked out a bit at the corner of her mouth, brows a bit creased, and eyes so concentrated. Though, this time, she was constantly looking between him and the paper, and so he was caught staring multiple times.
After an hour, she finally backed up from the canvas, a little smile on her lips, looking between her work and him, making sure there was nothing out of proportion or messed up.
“Are you finished?” He asks, looking over. His neck is a bit cramped from leaning back so long, and he stands, stretching out his muscles.
“It’s just an outline,” Y/N tells him, quickly draping a blanket over it before he can peek. “Y’don’t get t’see it until I’ve painted it, and I haven’t even decided if I wanna do acrylic or oil yet.”
Harry laughs at his girl, kissing her temple, “Well, while I’m waiting, how about we make sure y’painting is accurate?”
“How should we do that?”
He casually shrugs, “I hear a lot of artists study what they’re painting very thoroughly.”
“Oh?” She giggles, hands running down his sides, “You don’t think I did enough studying earlier?”
Harry shrugs once more, “I’d count that as me studying you more so.”
“M’studio doesn’t exactly have a bed,” Y/N points out, though halfheartedly because both know that that is not a problem.
“Oh, but it had a floor and a table and windows,” He cheekily smirks, “We’ve never tried windows, hm?”
“You’re lucky that we’re on the top floor, y’perv.”
“You love it,” Harry scoffs before pressing their lips together.
+
It was another week before Harry got any word of the painting. Anytime he’d ask, Y/N would just smile and tell him to wait patiently. It was killing him. Harry’s never been painted before. Well, he’s Harry Styles, so people and fans have painted him before, based off pictures and such, but he’d never been painted before. Not only was this the love of his life painting him, she was painting him from a live outline she’d done, and she was painting him nude, every bit of muscle and fat open to her, every blemish of his skin. And not to overthink himself into a pit, but she was going to be painting his cock for goodness sake! Harry was really a bit nervous that she’d find something she didn’t like about him, something that would end what they had.
Y/N had him come in once more around a similar time of day as the last time, just so that she could get the colors correct. As much as Harry wouldn’t believe it if she told him, Y/N was slowly falling even more in love with him as she progressed through the painting, little smiles falling on her lips as she would add shading where he had a little extra fat, or drawing one of his freckles or moles. She’d made the canvas big so that she could draw every detail of his body in depth, and it was only solidifying how she felt. Harry was an absolute masterpiece. From the brimming abs on his stomach, to his pudgy love handles, and his large hands rested on his muscular thighs that led to his uncut cock (even a bit big when it wasn’t hard), and his tuft of curly pubic hair leading up to his happy trail. Y/N decided that she could look at him for forever, never grow tired of him.
So, when she told him that he could see it, they were both nervous. Harry wanted to see what she saw, and Y/N wanted him to love it as much as she did. The air was thick as she led him back into her studio for the third time, this time to reveal what the other two visits were leading up to.
Neither knew what to say, instead just opting to stand in each others arms for a bit, Y/N’s head rested on Harry’s chest, swaying a bit. “I love you,” She mumbles, looking up at him.
Harry’s eyes meet hers, “I love you, too, lovie.”
Maybe that was really all they needed to say. Y/N slowly pulled herself from him, walking over to her canvas that was in front of him, gripping the sheet that covered it. She bites her lip gently before pulling it off, watching the fabric billow to the ground and reveal her work.
Harry’s eyes met, well, himself. There he was, kneeled on the white block, except Y/N has painted it into a chunk from a Roman column, and Harry also noticed she’d added massive, intricate wings sprouting from his back, looking celestial and powerful. His body has a soft pink glow to it, the background darker, contrasting with his tan skin yet also blending a bit with his messy curls and tattoos.
“Love,” He mumbles in awe.
“Do you like it?” She asks nervously.
Harry really can’t say anything, so he just cups her face and connects their lips in a passionate kiss. “God, I love you,” He mumbles into their kiss.
Y/N’s blushing once more, kissing him back just as sincerely, then pulling away to ask again, “So you do like it?”
Harry laughs, “I love it, really. Sounds narcissistic to say I love a painting of myself, but y’made it so...” He tries to find the words.
“Just say pretty,” She giggles.
Harry chuckles, “I can’t believe I’m dating a baby Van Gogh.”
Y/N rolls her eyes jokingly, “Van Gogh did more landscapes, silly.”
“Oh, my mistake.”
She scoffs, pushing him away teasingly, “I painted you, mister, I deserve more respect.”
“I know, ‘m sorry,” He pouts, collecting her back in his arms, pressing little kisses all over her face, making her squirm in his arms. “You painted me as an angel,so now we’re matching.”
“And you call me a sap,” She jokes, cupping his face to halt his kisses. Their eyes lock, a little smile on her face as she looked at him, his face all squished up from her hands on his cheeks, a dorky grin on his lips and emerald eyes gleaming into hers. “I love you,” She quietly says, kissing his grin.
“Gonna need more than that,” Harry puckers his lips, closing his eyes as he waits for another kiss.
Y/N can’t help but giggle, “Hm, pucker up, angel boy.”
#harry styles#one direction#writing#romance#love#fluff#smut#angst#solo harry#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles au#harry styles dirty imagine#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#paint#artist#harry x y/n#harry x reader#angel#request#university#painter#art studio#draw#new york
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Things you said when you thought I was asleep || Larry
12. things you said when you thought i was asleep
it wasn’t all a facade, at first. harry was in fact peacefully asleep before louis came in, but louis always feels so guilty for waking him when harry blinks his eyes open and rolls over to ask him about his day, so this time he just fakes it, keeping his eyes closed as louis curls up behind him and hooks one careful arm around his waist. he keeps his breathing even, forces himself not to shiver at the tickle of louis’s breath on the back of his neck, but doesn’t bother to restrain himself from snuggling back against his warm, naked chest. that’s something he’s sure his body would instinctively even if he was already dead.
hazza, louis hums, hot against harry’s skin. that’s when harry smells it, the faintest hint of alcohol, like louis had a beer with the guys before he came home. baby.
are you awake? louis says, whispering. it makes the hair the back of harry’s head stand up.
harry’s already committed to the act, so he doesn’t respond, breathing another quiet breath out from between his parted lips. louis’s hand spreads slowly across harry’s chest, fingers splayed out, a little bit cold, but steady as anything.
i love you so much, louis says, pressing his words firmly into the top of harry’s spine. i miss you.
harry frowns a little bit, can’t help it, cracking one eye open and peering through the darkness to the clock on his bedside table, red LED glaring the numbers 2:46 back at him.
i’m afraid i take you for granted, louis says, nose squished against harry’s skin. louis’s grip tightens slightly, fingertips turning white in the gentle divots he’s pressing into harry’s sternum. i should hold you more, louis continues, i should say i love you more. i’m gonna. i’m gonna do those things. first thing i’m gonna say to you when you wake up tomorrow is i love you. i don’t say it enough.
harry shuts his eye again and turns over sleepily, nudging his way under louis’s chin. he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything to let on that he’s awake, just moulds himself to louis’s body the way he always does, the way he always wants to, especially when he can’t.
sweet boy, louis whispers, running a gentle hand through harry’s hair and leaving his hand tangled up at the back of his head, cradling his neck. my sweet, sweet boy. who couldn’t love you?
that’s where this is coming from, probably, harry thinks. someone probably said something today, something about harry, someone that louis couldn’t tell off. harry knows how that eats away at him, how it gets under his skin and makes him grumpy and frustrated for hours, sometimes longer. harry stopped caring a long time ago, but louis didn’t, still hasn’t, and part of harry hopes, selfishly, that he’ll always care enough for the both of them.
it doesn’t take louis long at all to fall asleep; harry’s still thinking about how much he loves him when louis’s breath levels completely, ruffling the hair at the very top of harry’s head with each tiny huff.
harry presses closer, presses his lips to louis’s pulse point and breathes in through his nose so he can breathe in the scent of louis’s skin, and lets himself drift off, too, curious but undisturbed by the possibility of all the things he’s missed because louis’s only ever found the courage to say them while harry’s fast asleep.
send me a number and a ship!
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A hc for dating haz and netting tom for the first time and another one(if you can) for dating tom and meeting haz for the first time?
Omg yes
Dating haz meeting tom:-haz being like -“wait till you meet tom babe he is so funny and kinda annoying I hate him but love him, you are gonna love him too”-“wow maybe you are secretly in love with him and not me”-“you wish”-but getting super nervous -because this is the guy that hangs out with your boyfriend -the guy he goes to talk to when you guys are in fights -or when you guys are just wanna rant -or talk about each other an how much you love them -‘what if he hates me for taking haz away’-‘nah he isn’t a child’-‘or is he’-all the thoughts rolling in y’all-but to your surprise -Tom welcomed you with open arms -he was so nice and sweet -and he absolutely loved you -and you to him:’)-you guys got along just fine making fun of Harrison -more guys :’)-and you guys sharing embroidery stories over haz -haz wanting to murder you both -“and one time I walked in on him naked and he screamed like a girl y/n”-“I have baby pictures”-“his senior picture looks gross you don’t wanna see it”-“I hate you both”-poor hazza Dating tom meeting haz:-okay but being hella nervous to meet him -you hear tom talk about him all the time -most of the time celeb friends aren’t the best or as nice as everyone seems to be -but wowowo haz was so nice -he’d be so funny and kind towards you -and be so excited to finally meet you -Tom getting jealous that you and haz are getting along so well -Tom is the jealous type -you and haz telling funny jokes about tom -and tom trying to be funny and understand the jokes -“and then I said wtf no (idk something funny)”-“Omaha my god ahah y/n you are so funny wow haha”-“YEAH hahaHaHaHaha SO FuNNy”-“…..”-“…. tom wtf”-but you assuring tom that you and haz are just getting a long fine because you exchanged funny embarrassing stories -Tom hating you both -Tom being a baby about it -:’)
💞💞💞
#2k + 2.1k celebration#tom holland imagines#Harrison osterfield imagines#head canon#tom holland headcanon#Harrison osterfield x reader#Tom holland x reader#m’s writing
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Harry tilted his neck into the kiss, feeling the soft scrape of Louis’ stubble against his pulse.
“Babe...” He whispered, in some half spoken understood plea to be released, because time was ticking down and he had to get dressed.
“Or I could just go out naked,” he mused. That snapped Louis’ lips from his skin.
“Absolutely not. Where are your clothes?” Louis rifled through the rack against the dressing room wall, in his haste de-throning some shirts from their hangers.
“The violet one,” Harry said, sidling up alongside Louis and wrapping one arm around his waist. He pointed at a soft purple-tinged blouse with a black vest jacket.
Louis thumbed over the fabric, a soft hum rumbling in his chest as he took the outfit off the hanger and held it out before him.
“Lovely,” he mused, striping the black jacket off and beginning to unbutton the blouse. “Turn around then, Styles.”
Harry complied, and Louis slipped the garment’s ruffled cuffs over his wrist and tugged the frilled collar over his shoulder blades to rest against the nape of his neck.
“Turn,” Louis ordered again. Harry did, his heart thundering in his exposed chest, his butterfly tattoo fluttering to life with each breath.
“Darling,” Louis said, his playful facade melting into heady desire. He just stood there drinking Harry in, pulling on either side of the opened blouse and watching its silky fabric ripple over Harry’s skin, snag on his nipples, crease with the dip of his muscles.
“You like me in violet, Lou?”
“Lavender,” Louis whispered, a soft smile tugging at the left corner of his mouth.
“Lavender,” Harry repeated, his voice dropping a full octave, chocolate smooth, somehow aurally matching the visual colour.
Louis met his eyes for a moment, and Harry could barely see any blue in them, they were so saturated with pupil.
“Wrists,” Louis said, a hitch in his voice. Harry offered up his left hand, and Louis carefully buttoned the cuffs around his wrist, his breath now coming in little bursts that tickled the exposed fuzz on Harry’s chest.
“Other,” Louis said, buttoning Harry’s right cuff, then gently bending his head to kiss Harry’s knuckles there, to kiss the three rings that made their permanent residence on that hand.
“Lou,” Harry moaned, because he was drunk right now on the sight of Louis, on his touch, on his careful movements, on the way his fingers pushed the buttons into the button holes.
“Yes, love?” Louis replied, as if he didn’t fucking know. Harry squirmed, licked his lips, breathed in the scent that happened whenever they were this close, because it was a distinct oder of lust and tongue and breath.
Louis dropped into a squat then, and began doing up the blouse buttons from the bottom up. He carefully pulled the fabric away from the obvious bulge in Harry’s pants and buttoned the first three, then let the cloth fall back into place. Harry felt it against him like a gentle breeze and he twitched and swallowed the copper taste in his mouth, his eyes fluttering closed.
He could feel Louis working his way up his torso, the roughness of Louis’ guitar calloused fingertips grazing his plush stomach skin as he sealed the blouse around Harry. He buttoned up the butterfly, the last button before the obscene v-neck, and rose to stand, his hands grasping the two ties of the garment’s pussy bow.
“My pretty princess,” Louis said, and Harry opened his eyes.
He preened at the compliment, jutting his jaw out slightly and shimmying taller into a regal pose. “Am I?” he said.
“Fook,” Louis yanked on the two ribbons, and their lips were suddenly smashed together. Like reigns, Louis kept the ties taught, kept Harry pulled to him.
Tongues slipped into lips and breath spilled into breath, and their noses became smooshed and deformed as they panted into each other.
A rap sounded at the door. “Five minutes, H,” a voice said, a voice that knew better than to enter uninvited.
Harry desperately pressed his groin to Louis’ thigh, a show and tell of sorts.
“Lou, baby, we... baby,” he shuddered as Louis slackened the ties, planting one more kiss on the tip of his nose.
“I know, love.” Louis slid his hand down and cupped Harry gently, rocking himself into Harry’s thigh, just to let him know they were the same. “Later, darling.”
Harry’s eyes followed the gentle swish of Louis’ lashes as he looked down at the ribbons in his hands, as he moved those same hands, the dark veins pulsing through them, to tie the ribbons together. Violet strand crossed violet strand, and Louis formed the fabric into loops, tugging it through a perfectly un-twisted knot and creating a flawless bow.
“There you are, Hazza,” Louis whispered, stepping back to admire his handiwork, bushing one hand down Harry’s chest.
“Remind me about this later,” Harry smirked, one dimple popping.
“About what, love?”
“That there’s one type of pussy you do like.”
Louis took a moment to look at him in mock horror before taking Harry’s face in his hands and pushing another kiss to his puffy lips.
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One more ask from me and then I’m done because there is being friendly and being crazy and I’m sitting on that fence. From the fanfic asks: “You wanted me to walk in on you.” For Haz and Bubbles maybe?
God, that’s totally them.
Harry would probably come home after a long day in the studio greeted by the sounds of moaning and groaning; just pure ecstasy reverberating through the house.
So he’d follow the proverbial bread crumbs up the stairs and into the bedroom, bracing himself before opening the door.
And he’s glad he did because when he does open it, there you are spread out and naked on the bed, the filthiest porn blasting on the tv as you writhe under your own touch.
“Hazza,” you moan as your fingers take a nice, long dip into your channel.
“Jesus Christ, Bubs,” he says gruffly, dropping his bag and stripping off his jacket as he comes toward the bed. His clothes are strewn across the bedroom and he’s naked in seconds, crawling up your body.
“Yeh wanted me to walk in on yeh, huh?” Roughly, he tugs yours fingers out of you, inserting his cock in place.
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old T-shirt
MASTERLIST
A/N : For my first ever Harry one shot, I hope this is good and does ‘From The Dining Table’ justice.
Word Count : 1700+
Summary : Harry sees a picture of Y/N on her new boyfriends Instagram, and it breaks his heart.
* * *
Light cascades through the half turned blinds, torching the room inside and revealing tiny dust particles dancing around Harry’s head. Behind his translucent eyelids he stirs as a disgruntled huff escapes his chapped, raw lips and the sour taste and smell of alcohol and cheap, sweaty sex floods Harry’s nostrils before he’s taken his first breath.
As Harry begins to properly wake more of his senses return, although his sight is slightly blurry as a consequence of heavy late night drinking, which explains the branches of blood vessels sketched across the white of his eyes.
Dragging his arms behind for support, Harry pushes himself up off the bed and his eyes immediately land on the bare back of a beautiful young woman. He draws his fingers and go to place them on her back before he pauses. Rays of white light bounce from a ruby ring which adorns Harry’s hand alongside many other fashion accessories, but the reflective glint blinds his eyes and he pulls back his shaky hand in an instant. His fingers fiddle with the ring and Harry thinks back to when Y/N gave him it, as an anniversary present.
“Happy four years, Kiddo!” She had exclaimed, placing a light kiss on Harry’s cheek before handing him a box. “It’s a bit of a simple present but I spent a shit tonne on it so you’d better like it.”
Harry remembers how he couldn’t keep the toothy grin from surfacing after he slipped on the red beauty and how Y/N’s face lit up at his reaction.
He glances over at the girl on his bed and feels the metal burn his skin, a reminder of the dirty, unspeakable surfaces his hands have caressed since Y/N left. Guilt gnaws Harry’s throat, but then again that could just be last night’s vodka and cigarette ash resurfacing.
Harry releases a breathy sigh, grimacing at the toxic aroma that invades his nostrils, and climbs out from under his sheets. Immediately his head swirls but ignoring the pounding in his head, heart and chest he places one foot in front of the other until he reaches the kitchen. Although Harry hadn’t really chosen this hotel for its interior, he must admit while he takes a sip of lukewarm water from a lipstick stained mug that the place is quite luxurious. Pristine white everywhere and although his style was more vibrant, as of recent Harry secretly related to the stoic plain blankness of the colour.
Wiping a hand across the surface of the kitchen island, (careful not to use his ruby hand as he didn’t want to soil the ring anymore) Harry uses his skinny arms for support and leans against the solid oak surface. The thunder at his temples had begun to dim a little since water trickled down his throat and he’s surprised because for the first time in days, Harry’s raised something else other than rancid drugs and drinks to his lips.
A cough depletes his weak lungs at even the thought of tobacco.
“Hazza, you’ll have smokers lungs before you reach 25.” Y/N laughed, before stealing the cigar from his hands. “Now we can’t have precious little Styles dying young, can we?” She giggled and patted his brown curls before taking a sharp drag herself and winking at Harry. Neither of them had been real smokers, just socially taking a puff here and there if the mood was right. Honestly, Y/N never really liked the thought of smoking, but Harry’s persuasive charms and dreamy eyes managed to crack her tough exterior a couple of times, influencing her to join him on the rare occasion.
Harry blinks back to reality, and makes a grab for the packet of cigarettes above the fridge before stumbling to an overflowing bin and binning the cancerous box. Y/N never would have approved.
Squinting outside, he realises the roar of New York is quieter than usual and he predicts the hours are early in the morning. Perhaps it would be smart to kick out the petite naked girl in his bed before the life and paparazzi of New York awakened.
Tipping the remains of water in his glass down his throat, Harry trudges back to the bedroom and collapses on his side of the bed. The sheets smell like sweat and musty, unmistakeably signs of a heated night and he groans to himself quietly knowing last night’s hook up was a mistake no matter how much grief it helped him hide. Whilst still muttering to himself about how much of a lousy, mopey idiot he’s become a sudden ring from his phone notifies him of a new Instagram post.
‘Jacob Roberts posted for the first time in a while.’
Harry’s brows furrow in surprise. He recognises the name from somewhere, however he can’t pin how he knows. More to his amazement, even though Harry’s not sure how he knows the name he gathers this lad must be important if Harry follows him. A finger swipes at the alert and Harry rolls his eyes once he pieces together the mystery of Jacob. Now, glaring at the boys profile picture, Harry realises Jacob Roberts is one of Y/N’s work colleagues. Harry grunts at the guys caption, and represses another eyeroll after reading the corny quote ‘Difficult Roads Lead To Beautiful Destinations’.
Harry never particularly liked Jacob and still doesn’t to this day. Although the bloke was nice enough, it was always obvious he fancied the pants off of Y/N which didn’t settle well with Harry considering Y/N was his girl.
Was his girl.
Harry’s heart clenches at the thought but he smothers the ache with a deep breath. Jacob was a stable guy, earning a stable wage and paid a stable rent where he lived in a stable apartment and had a pretty, well… stable life. Harry would never admit it, but deep down it awe’s him how much of an ordinary guy Jacob was and how perhaps Y/N needed a column of stability in their relationship - maybe she just needed to come home to Harry and a nice hot dinner, not an empty bed and pictures of him at a club.
Shaking the bad feeling off, Harry scrolls all the way back up to Jacobs Insta, prepared to tap off his page when something catches his eye. He brings his phone closer and taps the top left picture on his feed, ready for his suspicions to be proved wrong but for such an unstable kid himself, Harry should’ve predicted the unexpected.
Jacob, tall, lean and tanned stands proudly in the picture, feet digging into mini mounds of sand and a pair of black sunglasses frame his face contrasting his red beach shorts. One hand holds a can a mundane can of beer, and the other is gripping a hand belonging to someone he knows all too well. Y/N’s fingers clench Jacobs and in the picture she’s smiling adoringly at Jake, the beautiful cobalt waves behind them making the post seem like a candid shot.
Harry thinks he’s going to throw up.
Behind Y/N rays of sunlight explode from behind the soft nest of her hair, creating an angelic halo framing her head. Gorgeous locks of her hair billow behind her, and Harry follows the direction of her beach waves; tracing down her body he swallows when he recognises her blue number and black denim shorts which she refused to throw away after years because it only enhanced their 'vintage vibes’. In the pictures, she’s just so breathtakingly breath-taking. Really, truly the most beautiful, delicate, ravishing and breath-taking person Harry’s ever had the pleasure of knowing.
She is breath-taking, really. Harry can’t breathe.
And although Harry would never dream of ever discrediting Y/N’s astonishing pureness, he gathers Jacob’s top is the source of his predicament. The graphic tee, slightly fading but still clear as day reads 'Women Are Smarter’ and Harry can feel bile rise and he’s not sure if he can bottle it this round.
One of Harry’s hands raise automatically, the clammy skin clamping down over his mouth as a wave of sobs lapse his body. Streams of tears tumble rapidly from Harry’s grey eyes, salty and full of uncomprehendible pain. They roll over his cracked, dry skin and the realisation that this is the first time he’s emotionally broken down since the breakup only chokes Harry more. He feels as though hot ash is smothering him, suffocating him and filling his lungs, his throat, his nose. The sticky snot running from Harry’s nose and pooling around his fingers evidently proves Harry hasn’t yet got smokers lungs but the raw burning in his chest makes him think he might as well have. The simile however, nowhere near even approaches the horror Harry feels.
It’s his top! It’s Harry’s fucking top that Y/N took after the breakup. Harry presumed it was because she wanted something to remember him by (like how Harry stole her perfume and pillow to keep her somewhat close) but looking at the picture he can’t fathom how unaffected she looks; as though she didn’t walk out on Harry a month ago, like she didn’t shatter his heart into millions and billions of unrepairable pieces.
Really, his heart breaks as he stares at the love of his life smile lovingly at some stable prick wearing his favourite shirt and now through all the tears, Harry sees red.
How dare she! How could she ever dare leave Harry in pieces how she did? And then to give Harry’s top to some dickhead who Harry knew he was right in hating? The top doesn’t even suit Jacob! It’s predominantly black tone doesn’t match Jacobs tanned muscular skin not how it suited Harry’s lanky pale arms or Y/N’s beautiful body.
Coughs break past his lips and his fingers do a poor job of muffling his cries. In a split second, Harry throws his phone across the room and doesn’t wait to hear the satisfying shatter of his phone as he drags his body over to the fridge and pulls out another bottle of pure, unadulterated vodka. Popping open the cap he falls next to the bin, and seizes the discarded cigarette packet he threw away previously. Taking three solid gulps, Harry doesn’t even flinch at the burn of the vodka running down his oesophagus which muffles the vomit in his chest. Instead, he controls his frantic fingers long enough to light a roll before balancing the glass bottle between his jittery legs and bringing his trembling hand to his puckered lips. Quivering, Harry takes the longest drag he’s ever taken before and slumps against the floor.
Crying, because all he has left is a simple promise ring and a bottle of vodka.
* * *
PS : Sorry for any bad SPAG, it’s late where I am and I’m just anxious to get this out. Send requests and tell me what you thought!
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Can I request something where you and Harry are on vacation but the paparazzi leaks your location and things kinda spiral downwards from there :)
Weekend in Mallorca
word count: 1k+
A/N: This is a product of frustration of the treatment Harry and Co receive from the more aggressive portion of his fanbase. @storiesaboutharry- there I remembered once!
You’d been looking forward to this trip since you’d scheduled it. It would be a long weekend away amid a sea of promo and performances. It would be a couple relaxing days spent with Harry before he was whisked around the world for the start of Dunkirk promo. You’d found the oasis in your schedule almost 5 months ago and had meticulously planned all the details to avoid detection by the paparazzi. You flew out first. Your schedule allowed the extra time and the paparazzi didn’t really care about you if Harry wasn’t around.
You arrived at your hotel in Mallorca, so far undetected. You parked your suitcase by the bed and dug out your shampoo and bodywash. The flight for you was from LAX- a thirteen hour plane ride. A shower and some room service were just what you needed. You glanced through the menu, picking out a turkey burger and sweet potato fries, a choice you made in the guise of being healthy but was really just because it was tasty. Harry gave you endless shit for it. With dinner ordered you hopped beneath the hot spray of the shower and cleaned off the grime of traveling. Once you felt sufficiently scrubbed you turned off the faucet.
You stepped out into the steamy bathroom and toweled off before stepping into your pj’s, nothing too sexy since you didn’t expect Harry for another 7 hours. Perfectly on cue, room service arrived with your burger and fries. You chowed down and put on some Netflix before eventually falling asleep.
You awoke sometime during the night to Harry slipping under the covers. He was buck-ass naked as per usual and immediately pressed himself as close to you as possible. He placed a kiss to your temple and wrapped his arms around you.
“Missed yeh,” he murmurs into your hair.
“Mhmm, missed you too,” you reply groggily. You extended a hand up to card through his, now short, curls. He sighed and closed his eyes. You fell asleep together like this.
The sun woke you early the next morning. Harry’s skin was touching you in every possible place- his long legs wound around yours, his arms tight around your ribcage, torso to torso and his head nuzzled into your neck. You were sweaty and the sheets had been thrown off you in the night. Harry gently snored and puffed air across your cheek. You pushed against Harry’s face, hoping to separate yourself without waking him. No such luck, he only held on tighter. Next you opted for the soft approach. You carded your fingers through his hair.
“Harry… Hazza… Babe… it’s time to wake up,” you spoke into his ear.
He roused, reluctantly pulled himself from you and shook the sleep away. You both ate the granola you packed in groggy silence, brushed your teeth and got dressed.
The plan today was to visit a few of the old castles around the island. You tried your best to get Harry to dress down. His swim trunks and plain white shirt were hopefully uncharacteristic enough to help you avoid detection. A forward facing baseball cap and sneakers topped off the look. You and Harry climbed to the top of one of the Bellver Castle towers and looked out at the view. The city of Palma behind and the beautiful blue of the ocean cove ahead of you. He snaked his arms around your waist and laid his head on your shoulder. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear and you smiled, giggling when his sweet nothings became silly nothings. It was a sweet, intimate moment. Until you heard the snick of an iPhone camera go off. You were so conditioned to the sound your head snapped immediately to face the source of the sound. A young girl was snapping photos of the two of you and trying to be sneaky. She realized she’d been caught and put the phone down. Harry turned to her offering her a wide smile and asked if she’d wait a couple days to post the pictures. She nodded agreeing she would wait. He gave her a sidehug as together you descended the stairs leaving the onlooker stunned.
“Do you think she’ll wait?” you whisper.
“Nope, I bet she’s already posted them,” he sighed. “But I always hope that the plea for privacy will work.”
It is evident on the walk back to the hotel that people are starting to recognize him. The walk home was pleasant, no one interrupted you but now all the followers knew what hotel you were staying at. No matter how out of the way you had walked, the dedicated stalkers would have followed you.
Because of the increased buzz you decided to order room service and eat on the balcony of your room. But even that wasn’t safe from prying eyes. Harry poured out two glasses of red wine and you were about to toast to vacation when you heard rapid fire snapping. Again your sixth sense kicked in and you spotted a paparazzo perched catty corner to you on another balcony. In that moment you wanted nothing more than to flip him the bird. He had ruined an otherwise very sweet moment. Instead of toasting you and Harry quietly picked up your plates, glasses and the bottle of wine and walked back inside to have a picnic on the floor.
“Gah!,” you moaned and flopped back on the floor after finishing your food.
“Ugh, I’m sorry babe,” Harry commiserated. “I know how badly you wanted to keep this quiet.”
“I mean, I knew what I was signing up for,” you sighed. “I just don’t understand why people want to see those pictures?!” You flopped your wrist over your eyes, willing away the tears caused by a no longer quiet, private vacation. It had long been a topic of discussion. Now that fans knew who you were and what you looked like why did they need a photo of you pre-makeup at the shops buying milk? Or Harry for that matter- couldn’t they just let him shop in peace?
“I’m so, so sorry,” he hushes you with kisses down your jaw and throat. He watches your throat bob with swallows as he works you up.
“Unh, Harry,” you moan. He moves with you and for just a little while you forget.
#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#Harry styles blurb#harry styles one shot#harry styles request#requested#writing
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