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violetsandfluff · 2 years

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I Am Right Here (h.s.)

Summary: the reader has pregnancy complications and Harry has anxiety

TW: plenty of sensitive topics: talk of pregnancy, anxiety, depression, miscarriage, pregnancy complications, suicide, death. Please don’t read if these are sensitive subjects for you. Always get help. My inbox is a place where you should feel welcome. Also, it gets really dramatic and fake towards the end, so yeahhh and it’s not proofread :p that’s all

A/N: I promise I have more coming. I’ve had this idea for months now and I finally wrote it. Word count: 1.6k

• - • - •

“Mmh, baby,” you signed as you rested your head against Harry’s broad shoulder. “‘M so tired.”

“Yeah?” Harry let out a soft chuckle as he pulled the thin blanket up toward your chin, and you couldn’t help poking your fingers into his dimples. “Are you comfortable?”

You nodded at the sensation of his soft hand caressing your growing belly gently as he breathed steadily beside your ear.

“Bet your baby’s gonna be as pretty as you, mama,” he whispered after an extended amount of sweet silence.

“Or as pretty as you, Har.”

“Nah. ‘M not that pretty,” he said as another lazy smile crossed his beautiful face. “Especially compared to you. Wanna watch something, love?”

You nodded into his side and hummed your approval, pulling the blanket higher up your chest.

Harry placed his laptop on his lap and adjusted it so you could see.

“Is this good?” he inquired thoughtfully as he ran his short fingernails up and down your back.

“Mmhm,” you responded as your eyes fell shut. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” you commented as you felt sleep inevitably setting in. “Just wanna stay here forever.”

“You can, princess,” Harry’s low voice assured you as you drifted off. “‘M right here.”

• - • - •

You inhaled and exhaled steadily as you felt bright light burning through your eyelids. You were laying down, but the bed was a lot different from yours and Harry’s at home. There were sharp, prickly pains in your arms and chest, and you became slowly aware of faint beeping.

“Harry?”

Was the first word that slipped out of your mouth, through your dry, burning throat. It echoed through the uncomfortably bare and unfamiliar room.

You heard stirring from the corner of the room as a shadow of Harry’s tall figure rose to his feet and rushed to your side, kneeling down as he brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“I’m right here,” he repeated, voice quivering. His eyes were red and swollen and there were trails of dried tears running down his red cheeks.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you asked despite the searing pain in your throat. “Why are you crying?”

“Baby, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He reached out to touch you, but pulled his hand away before it reached you. His fingers hovered in midair just inches from your cheeks before he lowered them again.

“Do you need anything?”

By then, doctors and nurses were filing into the room and pushing Harry away from you.

While you concluded that you were in a hospital, and had probably been unconscious for some time, the question of how long still hung in the air.

“What happened?” you asked bravely, your voice sounding unusually high and light.

“You had a complication with your blood pressure,” a nurse explained to you. “Your baby is okay, but we still have some tests to do.”

Harry paced around in the room in silence as you watched him. He wasn’t crying anymore, but this was far worse.

“Harry, I’m okay. The baby’s okay. What’s the matter?”

“The love of my life passed the fuck out on my shoulder and practically stopped breathing, that’s what! I thought you were dead, Y/N, and that’s didn’t exactly make me happy!”

His face was beet red as he spoke, his eyes filled with tears of anger, disappointment, and fear.

“I thought you were gonna die, Y/N,” he said in a quieter tone. “And I thought it was gonna be my fault.”

You began crying as well, trying to imagine your life without Harry.

“I can’t live without you, Y/N. Not only would I have lost you, but my baby as well.”

He looked down at the waxed floor, a dark look on his face. “I would have killed myself. Prayed to die every day and every night, just hoping to be with you. Or not be without you.”

Tears streamed down your face as you gasped for breath and Harry snapped out of his trance, rushed to your side, and knelt down.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said as he grabbed your arms and rested his forehead against your shoulder. “I didn’t mean to say any of that. I just love you. I know it wasn’t your fault.”

You struggled against the IVs to pet Harry’s hair in a comforting, motherly manner.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you vowed, your voice cracking slightly.

“Do you promise?” Harry choked as he looked up at you, green eyes pleading in desperation.

“I can’t promise,” you admitted. “But I love you. I’ll always be right… here.”

Harry pouted unintentionally as another wave of emotion washed over him.

Your hands were placed on his chest, positioned so they could feel his heartbeat.

He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath before reaching up and wiping the tears from your face. “You’re so pretty,” he commented unexpectedly. “I mean, honestly. You’re in the hospital after being unconscious for four hours. You’re not supposed to be that gorgeous.”

A soft chuckle escaped your pink lips and sore throat. “I’m not.”

“Sure you are,” Harry said as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Your eyes are breathtaking. Have they always been that pretty?”

You dropped eye contact as his eyes penetrated your soul and his lips made contact with yours.

• - • - •

“I love you so bad,” you sighed as Harry tucked you into the covers.

“I can’t believe they let you come home,” he said hesitantly. “I don’t want it to happen again.”

“They gave me medicine, Haz,” you tried to convince him. “And compression socks! I’m gonna be okay, I promise.”

Harry scoffed at the word socks.

“You can’t promise that, you said so yourself,” he contradicted as he tucked your hair behind your ears.

“Don’t you trust me?”

Harry bit his lip.

“Come lay down with me, love,” you pleaded. “I need you.”

Harry pulled himself into the covers beside you reluctantly and put his arms around your middle.

“Is this comfortable?” he asked shyly.

“Yeah,” you responded as you nuzzled your head against his chest. “I can hear your heartbeat.”

“Is it too loud?”

You let out an uncontrollable laugh. “Since when do you ask someone if your heartbeat is too loud, Haz?”

“Are you too hot? Too cold?” He dodged the question.

You shook your head as you grasped a handful of his night shirt. “Good night, baby,” you whispered firmly. “Sleep tight.”

“G’night, love.”

You hoped like crazy that he would take the hint and go to sleep.

You slept through the night, subconsciously aware of Harry feeling your forehead for a temperature and your wrist for a pulse.

His eyes never left your chest, making sure the blanket was rising and falling regularly.

You woke up to sunlight streaming in through a crack in the curtains. “Good morning, Harry,” you beamed, squinting against the light.

“Good morning, Lovie,” he replied, voice low and rough. “How’d you sleep?”

“I slept well,” you replied truthfully. “You?”

“I slept well, too,” he lied blatantly.

He had dark circles under his red, teary, half-shut eyes, and his hair looked the same as it did when you fell asleep.

“Did you really?”

A skeptical look crossed your face as you studied his blotchy, tearstained face.

“Yes,” he retorted defensively, raking his fingers through your sleep-tangled hair. “Why?”

“You look exhausted,” you stated bluntly. “That’s all. Are you hungry?”

He nodded. “I think I’m gonna go make something. What do you want?”

“I can make something, Harry,” you argued.

“‘M up, I can do it. What do you want?”

“Whatever you make will be good,” you sighed.

Harry returned a while later with two plates of scrambled eggs and toast. He set one down on your lap and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“We’re gonna eat in bed?”

“I don’t think you want to see the kitchen.” He lowered his eyes as he smirked apologetically. “Sorry, babe.”

“What happened?”

He shook his head as he began to eat. “You don’t wanna know.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” you scolded playfully. “It’s rude.”

“Sorry, puppy.”

After breakfast, Harry turned on another show on his laptop, tensing noticeably when you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Are you gonna fall asleep?” you asked after he stifled his third yawn within thirty seconds.

“No.” he replied coldly, shifting beneath you.

“Why? You’re so tired.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and bit his lower lip. “Please tell me it’s over,” he blurted out. “Please tell me it won’t happen again.”

“Harry,” you said unsteadily, shifting so you were laying on your side, facing him. “You’re not sleeping because of me?”

“I can’t leave you, Baby,” he said with a hint of a catch in his throat.

“You’re right there. You don’t have to leave.”

“If I’m asleep, I’m as good as gone, Y/N.”

“I can stay awake if it would make you feel better.”

“No,” he replied dismissively, putting a large hand on your shoulder. “You need sleep, too.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do, sweetheart,” Harry said, emotion creeping ever so slowly into his voice. “I don’t trust me.”

“But you’ve never done anything to hurt me.”

You reached up to wipe a tear from his cheek, but he turned his head away just long enough to shake you off.

“You could have died.”

You drew in a sharp breath.

“And it would have been my fault.”

“Right here, remember?” You placed your hand delicately over the left side of his chest before kissing it and resting your head on it.

Harry nodded in satisfied surrender, his eyelids already falling shut. “If you say so, darling,” he mumbled thickly.

• - • - •

The sun rose the next morning to find Harry still comfortably emerged in his well-deserved slumber with you on his chest.

You were tracing small patterns on his neck and jaw where small bits of unshaven stubble grew.

He eventually awoke to the sensation and tightened his grip around you.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you greeted him lightheartedly. “Do you feel better now? Happier?”

He licked his lips and nodded, lowering his face to your cheeks. “‘M glad you’re okay,” he murmured against your warm skin. “And ‘m sorry if I was being a pill yesterday.”

You put your hands on either side of his face and squished his cheeks lovingly. “You’re okay. I’m okay. It’s all okay.”

Taglist: @madybeth21 @groovychaosavenue @fishingirl12 @mrspeacem1nusone @tenaciousperfectionunknown @sortingharryshairclip

#Harry styles #Harry styles fanfic #Harry styles imagine #Harry styles fic #Harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles angst #Harry styles sickfic #Harry styles x you #flutterfly alley #yellow 💛 heart #dadrry #pregnant!reader

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violetsandfluff · 1 year

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Cough Drops and Extra Love

this took a hot minute whole ass month but I think it was worth it? prepare yourself for 4.2k of sick, clingy harry fluff <3 tw: sickness, mentions of throwing up, nudity, *brief* mention of sex, and loads of fluffffff so if that’s not your cup of tea, don’t read any further. I proofread this a billion times and it’s still not quite right, but it’s as good as I’ll get it.

“Hey, rockstar,” you beamed as Harry strode off the stage and into your arms. He flipped his water bottle and raised it to his lips to finish whatever was left in it before re-wrapping his arms around you. He lowered his head so it was resting on top of yours.

“I love you, baby, I’m so proud of you,” you went on. “How was it?”

Harry just shook his head. “Exhausting,” he muttered at last. “I love you, too, pumpkin.” Casting you a half-hearted smile, he straightened and picked up another water bottle, immediately opening it and downing half of it.

“Someone’s thirsty,” you joked.

Harry let out a dry laugh.

“You’re not very talkative tonight,” you mentioned bluntly. “Usually you’re talking a mile a minute after a show.”

“Tired. And my throat hurt,” was his raspy response before quickly adding, “but it’s better now.”

“Are you sure?” you asked skeptically. “A few sips of water fixed it just like that?”

Harry nodded before throwing his arms around your neck from behind and letting his cheek rest atop your head. “I’m tired, ‘s all,” he said finally. “And thirsty.”

~~~

Once you were home, the first thing Harry did was sink onto the couch and emit a prolonged sigh.

“Oh, baby. What’s wrong?” you asked, plopping onto the cushion next to him.

“Tired,” he sniffed. “Will you take a shower with me?”

“Why?” you asked cautiously.

“Not f’that reason,” he assured you with a soft but priceless smile.

“You want me to help you wash your hair?” you guessed and he nodded, letting out a soft chuckle.

“Only f’you want to, lovie.” His words were followed closely by a poorly stifled sneeze that you chose to ignore. Instead, you made your way to the bathroom and turned on the shower to ensure that it would be nice and warm once Harry stepped in.

When at last he entered the shower in all his naked glory, he stepped towards you and enfolded your waist in his strong arms. He kissed your forehead a few times before resting his head on it once more.

“‘S so warm,” he mused, planting a few more kisses on your head. “Feels nice.”

“I’m glad,” you cooed, reaching up to ruffle his hair, which was now damp and matted down thanks to the water. You wriggled out of his grasp and reached for your shampoo, squeezing a generous amount onto your hands.

“Bend down,” you instructed, and he obeyed, lowering his head so you could reach all of his hair.

You worked the suds into his hair, using your fingertips to massage his scalp as you went.

His eyes fell shut in pleasure as he enjoyed the sensation.

“Don’t fall asleep standing up,” you warned jokingly.

He shook his head and let out a gentle laugh. “It feels so good when you wash my hair.”

“Does your head hurt?”

“A little,” he admitted reluctantly. “Not too bad, though.”

A soft smile spread across your face as you continued working the excessive amount of bubbles into his hair. The shampoo allowed it to stick up in all directions, making it resemble a clown.

“You’re so cute, Harry,” you giggled. “You can rinse your hair now.”

“Already?” he whined, leaning his head back into the warm stream of water, running his hands through his sudsy hair to get every last bit of shampoo out. A few coughs and sneezes escaped him as he emerged from the waterfall, shaking any remaining water droplets from his hair.

You repeated the washing process with a more reasonable amount of conditioner, working it into his hair while she massaged his scalp.

When you finished helping him rinse it out, he wrapped you in another warm embrace, holding you tightly against his chest.

“You’re so clingy tonight,” you noticed.

“S’cuz I love you,” he replied, his voice muffled in your wet hair.

“Are you feeling okay?”

He nodded once before ultimately deciding to shake his head, pulling you closer to his chest.

“Does Jeff know you don’t feel well?”

Harry tensed slightly. “He knew I had a headache before going on, and that my throat was sore afterward,” he said slowly.

“Do you want to tell him or should I?” you asked as you turned off the water.

Harry immediately began to shiver, deprived of the warmth the water had been providing. He wrapped his arms around himself before sidling up next to you again. “Tell who what?”

“Tell Jeff that you’re sick. Do you want to tell him or should I?”

“No.” Harry shook his head, clearing his throat to ward off the persistent tickle that tormented it.

“No what?”

“I just need sleep, Y/N. ‘S all it is. Jeff doesn’t need to know.”

You just shook your head. “I’ll worry about Jeff later. For now,” you trailed off, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead. “You’re pretty warm.”

His eyes fell to the ground. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” you assured him quickly. “Come here.”

Harry stepped reluctantly out of the shower, stumbling backward upon moving his head too quickly.

“Careful!” you exclaimed instinctively, reaching out to steady him. “You okay?”

He nodded bashfully as his face reddened in embarrassment. “Sorry, lovie.” He spoke in a lighter tone than usual so as not to strain his fatigued voice further.

“Don’t be sorry,” you insisted. “Dry yourself off and I’ll help blow dry your hair.”

Satisfied, he grabbed his towel and began drying off. Any reason for you to play with his hair comforted him.

You rung your hair out in the sink and slipped into a pair of comfortable, loose-fitting sweats before removing your hair dryer from its place in the drawer.

Harry, still wrapped in his towel, sat down on the closed toilet seat to give you better a better view of the top of his head. You dried his hair as quickly as you could, not worrying about what it looked like. After all, it would inevitably get worse as he slept.

Once his hair was thoroughly dried, you led him into the bedroom, instructing him to lie down on top of the duvet.

He did as he was told, and you worked briskly to cover his body in lotion. The lotion was uncomfortably cold on his abnormally warm skin, causing goosebumps to form up and down his limbs. Despite your haste, you made an effort to massage his sore muscles, causing soft groans to escape his rosy lips.

“I’m cold,” he whined desperately, his voice weak and broken. “I just want to go to bed.”

Your heart flooded with compassion at his words. You passed him his pajamas, which he donned immediately. As he did so, you busied yourself pulling back the duvet and comforter.

Harry wasted no time lying down, curling up into a shivering ball against the cool, white sheets.

Presently, you joined him, positioning your body beside his in an attempt to warm him. Instead, he turned away, curling up in the opposite direction.

“I’d feel awful if I got y’sick,” he explained hoarsely. “I don’t feel sexy anymore.”

“Oh, Harry,” you sighed, enveloping him in a warm embrace against his protests. “How do you expect to get better without snuggles?”

He all but melted into you, embracing you and leaning his forehead into your shoulder as his eyelids fell shut.

“Are you comfortable?” you inquired sweetly, to which he responded with a nod as vigorous as his dizzy body would allow.

Once he was comfortable, it didn’t take long for him to start drifting off. You took the opportunity to text Jeff, who agreed that if Harry was sick enough to admit it, there was definitely something wrong. He agreed to drop off some medicine, as well as other items that would benefit Harry, but until then, you were instructed to give him Tylenol to help ward off some of his discomforts.

You shook his already-sleeping body reluctantly, sighing sympathetically when he let out a disgruntled whimper. His exhausted eyes found yours as he stuffed his hands with handfuls of your sweatshirt.

You apologized profusely for rousing him so suddenly before handing him the pills and a bottle of water, which he downed obediently before returning his head to its place on your chest.

“Jeff’s coming with actual medicine,” you informed him, “but hopefully this will take the edge off your headache.”

Harry gave you a weak smile and a grateful hug, mumbling one last apology before shutting his heavy eyes once more. “‘M sorry I’m sick.”

He had been asleep for less than five minutes when Jeff let himself in with supplies in tow. After one mere glance at Harry’s sleep-distraught figure, it was evident that he wasn’t well at all. Jeff set the bag down gingerly on the bed, whispering some generic instructions before leaving as quietly as possible.

You opened the bag painfully carefully, but the rustling of the plastic didn’t fail to stir Harry from his light sleep.

He looked up at you with glossy, dilated eyes, letting out a few sniffles and coughs.

“Jeff brought this for you,” you said, beckoning to the bag. “Sorry I woke you up again.”

“‘S fine,” he sighed softly.

“He brought some medicine as well as a thermometer, cough drops, and extra tissues. And he left some soup in the fridge for us to heat up when we want some.”

Harry attempted to smile as he tightened his grip around you, burying his face in your shoulder to escape the light of the lamp you switched on.

“I was told not to give you medicine until tomorrow to keep better track of doses, but you were also prescribed plenty of cough drops and extra love.”

Harry brightened immediately, eager for love and an extra something to soothe his irritated throat.

You ripped the package of cough drops open, inhaling their inherently intoxicating fragrance before popping one into his waiting mouth.

He thanked you by managing a weak smile before clacking it against his teeth a few times and lying back down.

“Don’t fall asleep with that,” you warned jokingly.

“I won’t,” he replied, his voice low and raspy. “My head hurts, Y/N.”

“Give the Tylenol some time to work,” you suggested gently, running your fingers through his freshly washed hair.

His eyes fell shut at the sensation as he leaned instinctively into your touch.

“Now I smell like you,” he sniffled, enjoying the attention despite himself.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, but it also didn’t take him long to wake up. He found himself unable to sleep for more than two hours at a time. He was hot and cold simultaneously and every muscle in his body seared with a dull ache. Every time he began to drift off, he awoke immediately, needing to cough or sneeze.

After waking up for the third time, he ultimately decided to move to your other side in hopes of finding a more comfortable position to lie in without straying too far from your comforting body heat.

You adjusted the blankets around him as he adjusted his grip around your waist. HJose tired, glassy eyes looked up at you, blinking profusely as a singular tear slid down his cheek.

You used your thumb to brush it from his cheek and his eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“You didn’t think I’d notice?” you asked in disbelief, feeling your heart sink.

He shrugged, trying to blink back the tears that welled up in his eyes, but his efforts were in vain.

“Oh, Harry,” you sighed, massaging his head gently as he leaned into you. “Why don’t you to go back to sleep?”

“I’m too tired,” he complained.

“Too tired to sleep?”

“I can’t get comfortable,” he explained miserably.

“We can watch a movie together if you want,” you suggested.

“That might wake me up enough to sleep,” he said softly, letting out a few coughs as he scrubbed at his eyes.

You couldn’t help but smile, though you knew he was only clingy because he didn’t feel well. You leaned past him to grab your laptop off of the ground, as well as the tissue box, knowing all too well that he would need it. The moment you opened your laptop, a wave of blue light illuminated the room.

Harry whimpered softly, burying his face in your neck as you rushed to turn the brightness down, blinking the dark spots out of your vision after the shock.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you cooed. “That didn’t help your headache any, did it?”

He shook his head, muffling a short set of sniffles into your shoulder.

“What do you want to watch?”

He shrugged. “Your choice,” he rasped sleepily, moving closer to your chest. “I’ll watch anything.”

Your eyes moved from the glowing computer screen to Harry’s sick body, clinging onto you desperately.

You let out a low hum as you shut your computer and carded your fingers through his messy, blow-dried hair “You just want to be held, huh?”

He nodded solemnly, forgetting his signature cheekiness amid his fevered state as unpreventable tears sprang to his eyes for a second time that night.

Wordlessly, your arms enveloped his middle as you held him to your chest.

A shiver wracked his body as he allowed himself to be held, growing warm and tired in your arms. “I love when you hold me,” he muttered sleepily. Had his face not been buried in your chest, you would have noticed a rosy tint creeping into his cheeks.

In the comfort of your arms, he drifted off immediately, finally succumbing to the sound sleep his body craved.

You fell asleep shortly thereafter, waking up what seemed like minutes later to the sun streaming in through the closed curtains. You were sore from lying in the same position for so long, and your right arm was asleep from being under Harry’s weight. On top of that, you were almost sweating from the heat he had generated onto you throughout the night

A brief glance at him, however, told you he hadn’t moved all night. I’m

Based on the light coming in from outside, it was morning, meaning you could administer his first dose of medicine. Moving slowly so as not to wake him, you tiptoed from the room to use the bathroom and freshen up. You took the time to wash your face, brush your teeth, and get your hair out of your face, feeling miraculously put together as you exited the bathroom and headed for the kitchen to fetch him a bottle of water.

In the short time you were gone, Harry had woken up and repositioned himself to be curled up around a pillow, sniffling and coughing into it.

Climbing back into bed, you ruffled his hair affectionately as he let out a disgruntled sigh, rubbing the sleep from his puffy eyes.

“How do you feel, bubs?”

Harry wrinkled his nose in distaste at the pet name. “‘M okay,” he began before clearing his throat and trying again. “I feel like shit.” The throat-clearing irritated his already-sore throat, causing him to cough.

You rubbed his back sympathetically as he sniffled before continuing to rub his eyes.

“I can give you medicine now,” you said brightly. “Hopefully, it will help perk you up and bring your fever down. You’re like a little heating pad right now.”

“A little heating pad,” he repeated, smiling slightly despite himself.

“A little bed-headed, cough drop-scented heating pad.”

He sighed contentedly as your hands found their way to his hair once again. “My head hurts,” he commented.

“I’ll get you your medicine and water. Does oatmeal sound good or would you rather eat something else?”

“Do I have to?” he grimaced before muffling a stuffy sneeze into his pillow.

“You can’t take the medicine on an empty stomach.” you reasoned. “Plus, when was the last time you ate?”

He sneezed one more time before agreeing begrudgingly. “Anything to make me feel better,” he sighed before coughing again into the crook of his arm.

“I’ll be right back. In the meantime, rest your voice.”

Harry nodded, zipping his lips obediently. He leaned back against the cool pillows, pulling the comforter up to his chin. His whole body was tired and achy, and his head was foggy and throbbing. His nose was alternating between stuffed up and runny, and his chest felt tight and heavy. He could barely sit up without his head spinning and almost everything made his feverish, irritable body threaten to burst into tears. He knew he was being clingy, but he could scarcely keep his hands off of you. He needed your warm, comforting body near his more than anything else in the world. Because of that, a sigh of relief escaped his chapped lips when you finally returned to the bedroom.

After setting down the oatmeal and water on the nightstand nearest your side of the bed, which he had inhabited as of late, you couldn’t resist his outstretched arms.

He buried his fever-warmed face in your neck as you ran your fingers up and down his back.

“‘M sorry I’m being such a baby,” he mumbled. “‘S just, I haven’t felt this sick in forever.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, squishing his dimpled cheeks. “You baby me all the time. Now it’s your turn to be babied.” You looked over his sick body with sad eyes before passing him the bowl of oatmeal from your nightstand.

He stared blankly at it for a moment before raising a spoonful to his lips. He swallowed a few bites wordlessly before lowering the bowl back down to his lap. “Is that enough?”

You shook your head sadly. “A few more bites, baby. Then we can give you your medicine.”

Harry choked down four more bites of the gormless oatmeal before pushing his bowl back in defiance.

You handed him his pills and a glass of water, both of which he downed readily.

Leaning back against the pillows once more, he cast you a forlorn, heart-melting gaze. His eyes were puffy and watery from fatigue, and his lips were chapped from excess licking. His nose was on fire from the number of times it had been wiped and coddled, but somehow, he was still unfairly cute.

“‘F I can’t sing, can we at least have sex or something?” He looked at you with inquisitive green eyes as he awaited your response.

“Oh, baby,” you sighed. “You’re too tired to sit up fully. How do you expect to have sex?”

He shrugged as a look of defeat crossed his face. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “I’m sorry. Just bored.”

“I know,” you pouted. “Is there anything you want to do?”

“We could watch a movie,” he suggested, beckoning toward the brand-new bedroom tv that had yet to be turned on. Harry never failed to cheer you up when you were under the weather, but you weren’t used to being the caretaker. He fell ill so seldom, and when he did, it was almost always mild and gone in a day or two, tops. Now, glancing over his long body, bundled up in blankets, you hoped you could give him a similar assurance.

“Find a movie while I make us some tea.” You passed him the remote from atop the stout dresser beneath the tv before exiting the room. You made the tea hastily, not wanting to leave Harry alone for too long. Because being sick made him especially clingy, leaving for more than a few minutes at a time would cause inevitable whining from him. When you re-entered the room, mugs of tea in hand, Harry wasn’t there.

Your brow knitted in confusion. Poking your head into the ensuite bathroom, you saw him curled up in a heap on the cold tile before the toilet.

A sound of concern similar to a cat’s meow brewed at the back of your throat. You padded over to where he lay and crouched beside him.

He rolled to his side, brushing the hair from his face to make better eye contact with you.

“What’s the matter, baby?” you inquired, concern evident in your voice. “Did you throw up?”

“Not yet,” he stammered nervously. You noticed how his body trembled when he forced himself to sit up. “I thought I ate enough.”

“It could be completely unrelated,” you suggested, rubbing consoling circles on his broad back. You could see the embarrassment and discomfort on his face as he glanced warily from the toilet to you and down to his hands.

“Maybe,” he sniffled in agreement, barely daring to move for fear of getting sick.

“It’ll make you feel better,” you promised. “It might seem gross, but it’s all in your head. I guarantee you’ll feel a thousand times better when it’s over.”

Harry leaned back on his elbows, staring expressionlessly at the wall as his face grew pale. His breathing became rapid and shallow. In one swift burst of strength, he repositioned himself so he was hunched over the toilet, his forearms resting on the rim.

You rubbed his back comfortingly for a painfully long couple of seconds until he finished, shrinking back against the blank, white wall. When you joined him, he wasted no time placing his head in your lap and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You played with his hair in silence, twisting the frizzy strands around your finger and unraveling them again.

“Do you feel better?” you asked lovingly as you continued to twist his hair and stroke his cheeks.

He nodded, his eyes fluttering closed as they welled up with tears.

“Are you ready to brush your teeth or do you want to stay here for a moment longer?”

“Stay here,” he mumbled. “You stay here, too.” He looked at you with tearful puppy eyes before muffling his sniffles into your shirt.

“Oh, Harry,” you cooed gently. “What’s wrong? Don’t be embarrassed.”

“‘S just disgusting,” he spat. “I’m disgusting.”

“Why don’t you brush your teeth?”

“What if I get sick again?”

“Do you still feel nauseous?” you tried to respond calmly to his panic.

He shook his head slowly. “I just don’t want it to happen again.”

“It’s okay if it does. You’ll get better.”

Harry peeled his weak body off the floor, steadying himself on the counter as he reached for his toothbrush and toothpaste.

After a thorough cleaning of his teeth, he retreated to his bed, where he burrowed into the covers in an attempt to soothe his shivering body. He poked his head out from the covers just long enough to unpause The Notebook, his comfort movie, before returning to his cocoon.

A few minutes later, after disinfecting the bathroom, you joined him beneath the mountains of covers.

Instinctively, he cuddled up beside you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and embracing you profusely. He gradually began tracing imaginary patterns on your chest with his fingers, tired eyes half-lidded with sleep.

“You still don’t have any energy, do you?” You frowned slightly as he managed to shake his head.

He muffled a series of three consecutive sneezes into your shirt before sniffling a few times and returning to the patterns he was creating.

“I have your tea if you’re ready for it.”

He shook his head and let one final sneeze shiver out of his clammy body.

“Why don’t you go to sleep while you wait for the medicine to kick in?”

He nodded gratefully, seizing the opportunity to let his heavy eyelids fall shut.

“Baby.” You let out a prolonged sigh. “You don’t need my permission to sleep. You know that, right?”

“I know,” he sniffled hoarsely. “Can you spoon me?”

“Of course, lovie,” you mused sadly. “If only you were smaller, I could hold you on my lap and rock you to sleep like a baby.”

Harry whimpered softly as you removed one of your hands from his grasp to ruffle his hair.

“It’s not my fault I’m bigger than you,” he whined.

You had to laugh at his comment. You placed a cool hand on each of his cheeks, causing his eyes to flutter shut in contentment.

A delicate kiss was pressed to his forehead before he rolled over, finding his way into your eager arms.

He mumbled a word of appreciation as his eyelids fluttered closed for long-awaited sleep.

The next few days were a rollercoaster. You had to deal with Harry being extra clingy and emotional due to having to cancel shows for the first time ever. You spent countless hours curled up beside him as he slept, and you spent many evenings with him either relaxing in the tub or shampooing his hair in the shower. You dealt him tissues and cough drops as needed, as well as heated up the soup Jeff had delivered (which proved to be more than plentiful).

You watched in relief as Harry’s energy and cheekiness returned day by day. Soon, he grew more talkative, and not long after that, he returned to the state of despair he had been in earlier that week due to cancelling shows.

Even while sick, though, he never stopped asking for kisses.

Taglist: @madybeth21 @groovychaosavenue @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mrspeacem1nusone @cayleyhannha-blog @whitemancumslut @sunshinemoonsposts

#anon concepts #harry styles concept #🦢💌#Harry styles #Harry styles blurb #Harry styles fic #Harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles sickfic #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles one shot #Harry styles imagine #sick!harry #flutterfly alley #yellow 💛 heart #harry’s nose highlight

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violetsandfluff · 1 year

Text

Pimple Patch

“It looks disgusting,” Harry huffed distastefully as he peered critically at his reflection in the mirror.

“It’s just a pimple, Harry. Everyone gets them,” you reasoned. “But yours is tiny! I can barely see it.”

“You can obviously see it or you wouldn’t know it’s by my nose,” he whined.

“Harry, no one will notice,” you consoled him, voice thin with exasperation. “I have pimples on my face, too. And you still find me pretty, right?” Your question was accompanied by a playful jab to Harry’s ribs, coaxing a faint chuckle out of him as you placed a transparent pimple patch on his soft skin.

“One microscopic blemish can’t take your beauty away, Haz. That’s what you tell me, at least.”

After thoroughly examining the patch and making sure it wasn’t too obvious, Harry smiled sheepishly, nuzzling into your neck as his cheeks flushed contentedly.

Taglist: @madybeth21 @groovychaosavenue @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @mrspeacem1nusone @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cayleyhannha-blog @whitemancumslut @xxrosebunny @hsdaydreaminghaze

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x plus size reader #flutterfly alley #yellow 💛 heart

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violetsandfluff · 11 months

Text

Harry Styles Blog Recommendations [list 1]

HS List 1 | HS List 2

i had and old chain of reblogs with my blog recs on it, but it got hard to navigate. furthermore, others deactivated their accounts or changed their urls. hence the new and improved version. so here you go (; 💐

@a-strange-familiar

@adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy

@angelrryslut

@astranva

@atlafan

@avatar-anna

@babyiamperfectforyou

@be-with-me-so-happily

@bugrry

@cherievol6

@cinnamongirlrry

@daaydreamy

@enchantedsoulofmine

@erodasfishtacos

@figinpleather

@finelinestars

@finelinevogue

@fkinavocado

@fluffrry

@foolforharry

@fruitmans

@goldencherryhazz

@gracierry

@hampsteadharry

@harry-writings

@harryfeatgaga

@harrygivenchy

@harryinsweats

@harryisalrightig

@harryisart

@harryistheonlyoneforme

@harrysdimples

@harrysfinelinevol1

@harrysfolklore

@harrysgloves

@harryshouse

@harrysmimi

@harrysonlylover

@harryssweatcreaturee

@harrystylesslutt

@harrytheehottie

@helladirections

@hotforharrysheart

@hrryscherry

@hslab

@iconicharry

@idkthisisjustforfanfic

@jarofstyles

@junetuesday

@kingstylesdaily

(I’m also aware most of you have been tagged by me before so sorry about that hehe)

#Harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles blog #Harry styles writings #harry styles writers #Harry styles gifs #harry styles blogs #Harry styles blog recs #blog recommendations #flutterfly alley #yellow 💛 heart

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violetsandfluff · 1 year

Text

She Can See We’re Lonely Down Here 🛰️

summary: maybe curiosity knows where y/n is

tw: loss and sadness??

a/n: i did sob while writing this…

wc: 938 🪐

•••

“Look up, Stomper,” Harry breathed wistfully. Even after months of coming out to the field, the sight of the stars illuminating the night sky took his breath away. He didn’t need to tell Stomper to look up. “She’s up there somewhere,” he continued. “She knows we’re lonely down here, but she’s watching over us from above.”

A soft breeze rustled the tall grasses the duo lay in, bringing Harry back to reality for a split second. “It’s pretty late,” he admitted reluctantly, “and I’m sure your battery is getting low. Let’s go home.”

Stomper revved his wheels defiantly, but Harry picked him up anyway, bringing him to his car and setting him down in the front seat. “You really like the stars, don’t you, buddy?”

The small robot nodded, unable to divert his gaze from the glistening pieces of art floating above the ground.

Harry’s night progressed as usual. He poured himself a glass of milk and downed it before plugging Stomper in, allowing him to take a few laps around the house to get out his last bits of energy. Then Harry brushed his teeth and turned on the living room television, to produce a little bit of noise in an otherwise silent house. He ducked into his bedroom just before midnight every night, only for another restless sleep to begin.

Since Y/N had vanished, Stomper had watched Harry fall into a pit. He found it hard to eat for weeks after the fact, and he still barely slept. The few grey hairs which Y/N so loved had multiplied exponentially. Every night as Stomper charged in the kitchen, he could hear Harry’s pleading, mournful, heaving breaths as he wished back the one thing he couldn’t have.

It broke Stomper’s heart to see Harry, his person, incessently distressed. He remembered a time when Harry spoke to him with a glimmer in his eye and a smirk on his dimpled cheeks. When Y/N vanished, she took the dimples from his cheeks and the glimmer from his eyes.

Stomper lowered his head in defeat, feeling helpless towards fixing Harry. Just as he was about to fall asleep, something on the television caught his attention. His head snapped up to see a video of the Curiosity Rover navigating an alien terrain. Stomper was instantly captivated as his mind began to whir with ideas. Could he escape to Harry’s meadow and ask the rover to bring Y/N home before dawn?

As soon as the charger beeped, signifying he was fully charged, Stomper set out. The first obstacle in his way was the charging cord, but that was easily conquered. After he broke free, he pushed his way out of the front door and began his journey. Feeling the pavement beneath his wheels wasn’t something he experienced often.

Even though it was night, the streets were riddled with cars. The small, naive robot navigated the danger-ridden streets tensely, only relaxing when he turned down the final side street. It was no problem for him to get to the meadow. The final part of his mission was to communicate with Curiosity and beg him to find Y/N.

The sky began to glow a dusky pink in the east as Stomper tried fruitlessly to communicate with Curiosity. The sun rose over the horizon before Curiosity responded.

Stomper spent the day rolling around in the grass as if pacing back and forth. His wheels left matted down tracks behind him. While he rolled, he brainstormed ways to communicate with Curiosity. He could make audible sounds such as beeps and whirs, or he could try telepathy. Either way, he had to get his signal to the rover.

That night, he was ready. As soon as the evening star rose and the sun sank back beneath the horizon, the robot’s about face was on. He stared up at the sky, spattered with stars galore and located Mars. Feeling a rush of adrenaline, he attempted to communicate with the rover with every ounce of his being. His concentration never broke for a second.

Harry never came to the meadow that night. When he woke up, there was no Stomper to greet him. Upon further examination, Stomper’s charging cord was wedged in the door that he had exited through.

By the end of the night, Stomper knew his battery was running dangerously low. He spent the day, cowering in the shade, using as little energy as possible. By the time the stars came out, he rolled slowly back into the open field and gazed up at the star he assumed to be Mars and attempted to connect with it one final time.

He didn’t notice Harry’s car pulling up in the distance. His battery was running too low for him to focus. He lowered his head to the ground in defeat until he sensed footsteps approaching through the long, wispy grass. Harry laid down on his back in the grass, feeling the familiar texture on the back of his neck. Stomper could hear the heartbroken sobs he wasn’t bothering to muffle anymore. He felt guilty because he had failed for three continuous nights to bring Y/N back where she belonged; with Harry.

Without lifting his head from the ground, Stomper spun his wheels once, hoping that the sound would startle Harry into recognizing his presence, but the sound was drowned out by a heaved breath. Using every last ounce of his being, Stomper whirred to life.

Harry looked over at the robot speechlessly.

Stomper tried to roll over to him, but he lowered his head one final time, sapped of all of his strength.

taglist: @madybeth21 @groovychaosavenue @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @mrspeacem1nusone @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cayleyhannha-blog @whitemancumslut @xxrosebunny @hsdaydreaminghaze @daisyharry @madeintheniamh

#Harry styles #Harry styles blurb #Harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles fic #Harry styles fanfic #satellite #satellite mv #stomper #Harry and stomper #Harry styles satellite #Harry styles fluff #Harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #Harry styles sad #harry styles fake instagram #satellite au #flutterfly alley #yellow 💛 heart

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violetsandfluff · 2 years

Text

Cupcakes For Breakfast

Pregnant!reader and dad!lhh

“How are you feeling, mama?” A comforting hand cupped your cheek, bringing you to your senses. You swallowed and took a deep breath, still feeling the churning in your stomach.

“Okay,” you lied, turning your pillow over to make it cooler. It felt good against your skin, and it seemed to sooth whatever was going on inside of you.

Harry hummed skeptically as he examined your sleepy pregnant body.

This pregnancy was much harder than the last one in terms of sickness. Not a day went by where you weren’t sick at least once, and you could hardly remember a time when you weren’t nauseous. Even worse than that, feeling ill all the time meant that you didn’t always have enough energy to play with or care for your four-year-old daughter, Lucinda.

You sighed as you drew yourself from the pocket of warmth and placed your bare feet on the hardwood floor. You stood up shakily, only to be overcome by a sudden wave of dizziness.

“Ooh, honey,” Harry winced, grabbing your arms to steady you. “Lie back down, will you? I can make Lucy some breakfast, it’s no big deal. I promise.”

You had no choice but to climb back into bed and pull the comforter up to your chin. “I feel terrible,” you groaned. “You have to do everything now. You have to take care of Lucy, cook, clean, and everything in between. I promise I’ll help out more once I can stand upright.”

“Hey,” Harry furrowed his eyebrows sternly, pulling your hands into his larger ones. “It’s no problem, “Y/N, really. You’re so strong. I would never be able to handle this,” he motioned to your growing belly, “thank you.”

The tears in his eyes pulled a string in your heart. They told you that he meant what he said wholeheartedly.

A shrill sound from Lucy’s bedroom alerted you of her awakening.

Harry shook his head and smirked as he scrubbed the remnants of tears from his eyes. “We’ll be in soon,” he vowed as he left, ducking back into the room just long enough to say, “call me if you need anything.”

“Okay,” you smiled tiredly as you leaned back against the pillows, resting a hand on your stomach and rolling over. Constant tossing and turning was a side effect of your symptoms.

Harry gave a helpless sigh as he took one last look at your sleeping body before exiting the room.

“Daddy!” your daughter cried in excitement as Harry walked into her room. “Where is Mommy?”

“Mommy’s still asleep,” he explained as he helped her make her bed. “She’s not feeling good. It’s hard to be pregnant sometimes.”

“Oh,” Lucinda furrowed her eyebrows. “We can make her cupcakes.”

“Cupcakes?”

“Cupcakes make everything better,” she giggled.

“That’s a good idea,” Harry admitted. “Let’s get breakfast first. Then we can make Mommy some cupcakes. Sound good?”

Lucy nodded, wrapping her fingers around the doorknob and opening it slowly.

“Where’re you going in your pajamas, Luce?” Harry inquired, but she brought a finger to her lips to shush him.

“Mommy’s asleep, remember?”

The two walked quietly down the stairs, making sure not to let them creak. Harry poured two bowls of cereal, one for both of them, and they sat in silence at the table as they ate.

“What kind of cupcakes should we make?” Harry asked in a hushed tone, to which Lucy responded with an immediate, “Chocolate!”

“I don’t think we have any chocolate cake mix,” Harry frowned, rifling through the cupboards. ��But we have chocolate chips, so we can make chocolate chip cupcakes.”

Lucinda began clapping. “Daddy to the rescue!” she cried before clamping a hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she whispered.

Harry chuckled as he collected the ingredients, lining them up in rainbow order on the counter. “Cake mix, milk, vegetable oil, eggs, chocolate chips, and frosting. Is that everything, sous chef?”

“Sprinkles!” Lucy exclaimed, unable to believe that her father had forgotten the best part.

“My bad,” Harry grinned, taking the rainbow tube from the cupboard. “How could I possibly forget?”

“You’re just weird, that’s all,” the curly-haired girl responded.

“Do you know what a cupcake pan looks like?” Harry asked as he pulled his hair back into a messy bun. “I think it’s in that drawer,” he pointed his foot at a drawer.

She opened it and retrieved the silver muffin tin. “We can make… eighteen cupcakes,” she decided after counting all of the divots.

“Sounds good,” Harry agreed. “Do you want to put the cupcake liners in?”

His daughter busied herself laying out rainbows in the mold.

The pair worked in near silence until it was time to put the cupcakes in the oven.

~~~

“Mommy?” Lucinda whispered out into the dark room. “Are you awake?”

“I’m awake, sweetheart,” you rolled over, giving her a soft smile. You had to pretend that you hadn’t heard the oven timer or smelled the sweet scent of cupcakes.

“We made you cupcakes!” she sprang onto your bed, jumping a few times as Harry brought a tray of cupcakes into the room, leaving them on your nightstand.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” you cooed. “They smell so good.”

“They’re chocolate chip cupcakes,” she whispered, “because we didn’t have chocolate cake mix. And they have sprinkles!”

“Of course they do,” you chuckled. “Should I expect anything else from my Lulu?”

Lucy beamed proudly as Harry handed her a cupcake in a pink liner.

A glance at your husband showed you that his shirt was covered in frosting, and he even had batter on the back of his neck. You let out a subconscious giggle as you looked at him, and he turned around defensively.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you lied. “You’re just cute.”

“Aww. Thanks,” he beamed, handing you a cupcake in a blue liner.

“These are good!” you grinned at your husband and his mini-me upon taking your first bite. “I never would have thought to put chocolate chips in a cupcake!”

Harry pulled his hair out of its bun as he laughed. “Are they okay at least?”

“They’re amazing,” you assured him. “Why don’t you try one for yourself?”

“I’m okay.”

Your eyes wandered back to the tray where fourteen cupcakes sat.

Taglist: @madybeth21 @groovychaosavenue @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @mrspeacem1nusone @tenaciousperfectionunknown

#Harry styles #Harry styles fanfic #lhh fanfic #dadrry #Harry styles fluff #flutterfly alley #yellow 💛 heart #Harry styles x pregnant!reader #pregnant!reader #girl dadrry

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violetsandfluff · 1 year

Text

Tell Me A Secret

liked by arianagrande, gemmastyles, and 500,067 others

yourinstagram waiting…

view all 59,812 comments

oliviarodrigo beautiful! so excited I could scream!!!

⤷ ynfan1 what a dynamic duo

harrystyles magic was made ✨

⤷ ynfan2 that means one of two things…

ynrrystan the subtle like by gemma… we see you

edsheeran can’t wait to see two of my fav artists collab 💞

⤷ ynfan3 harry and yn are dating probably

liked by baileyspinn, dojacat, and 99,288 others

yourinstagram the wait is over for me

view all 23,412 comments

harrystyles you suckers will have to wait indefinitely 😝

⤷ harryfan1 *unfollows and forgets about both of them even tho it’s impossible*

jadethirwall stop your teasing this instant!

yourbff does my role as your bestie get me into the listening party for free?

⤷ yourotherbff dream on 😆

taylorswift you sing like an angel

liked by harryfan2, jefezoff, and 2,147,865 others

yourinstagram this is how said magic was made. enjoyyyyy

view all 796,512 comments

gemmastyles EXPOSEDDDDD

⤷ harrystyles this is a trust the process moment for sure

harryfan3 I need your leg day routine stat 😭

⤷ harryfan4 that cheeky smirk tells you he’s not sharing his ways

niallhoran glad to see your methods getting the attention they deserve, haz

ynfan4 yn tell me a secret

⤷ yourinstagram im in love… with all his little things

face claim hailee steinfeld 💖

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #instagram au #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles instagram #instagram blurb #Harry styles insta blurb #Harry styles fluff #harry styles x famous!reader #harry styles x fem!reader #flutterfly alley #yellow 💛 heart #hailee steinfeld #Harry styles moodboard #hs1 bta

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violetsandfluff · 11 months

Text

Harry Styles Blog Recommendations [list 2]

HS List 1 | HS List 2

@kwritingbooks

@lollypopsx

@londonharry

@lovecanyon

@lukesaprince

@matildashoney

@meetmymouth

@moonchildstyles

@mulledcherrywine

@mummymilkersontour

@narryfdreaming

@pancakerry

@pancakes4two

@pleasingsatellite

@purplekiwis

@reveriehs

@satanhalsey

@shroombloomm

@smilesstyless

@strawberriescherrieskiwi

@styleslookbook

@stylesmygucci

@stylesnews

@stylessupremacy

@swiftmendeshoran

@thestylesindependent

@tinyhrry

@tokyoharry

@tpwkwriter

@trulymadlysydney

@tuliprry

@twicellite

@walkingintheheartbreaksatellite

@watchmegetobsessed

@watchyourbluesturngolden

@watermelonlovershigh

@whitemancumslut

(I’m also aware most of you have been tagged by me before so sorry about that hehe)

#Harry styles #harry edward styles #Harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles fic rec #Harry styles writing #harry styles writer #harry styles blog #Harry styles gifs #Harry styles blog recs #blog recommendations #flutterfly alley #yellow 💛 heart

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violetsandfluff · 1 year

Text

The Yogurt Shop

anon request: harry x invisible string by taylor swift

a/n: this is not proofread, but it is a little awkward— im still trying to write blurbs.

summary: fetus harry got a job at a yogurt shop and remembered his second customers thirteen years later

wc: about 900

June, 2010

You could see, smell, and practically hear sugar screaming out loud from the moment you walked in the door. The small building housed dozens of flavors of frozen yogurt in all flavors, and every kind of topping imaginable. The walls were covered in an energetic turquoise wallpaper, and the chairs and tables were each painted an array of jarringly bright colors, each of them empty. Not a single customer milled through the shop.

“Hello,” a cheery young voice greeted you as doorchimes alerted him to your presence. “Welcome to The Yogurt Shop.”

“He’s adorable,” your friend Samantha chirped quietly, catching your attention. You averted your eyes from the colorful atmosphere of the shop to the boy dressed in a shirt as bright teal as the walls standing at the register. A curly mop of dark brown hair rested atop his head, and you immediately noticed the dimples adorning each of his cheeks as he smiled.

“The yogurt and bowls are on the yellow table against the wall to your right and the toppings are on the other wall,” he explained, feeling foolish when he realized you could see for yourself. “I have spoons and napkins up here.”

You gave him a grateful nod as your eyes began scanning the vast array of flavors and toppings.

“His accent is so posh,” your friend rambled into your ear.

“We’re in England. Everyone here talks like that,” you reasoned, feeling jealous that she had spotted him first.

“It’s so sophisticated and lovely,” she gushed. “I wish the boys back home were like him.”

“Jared is,” you teased, hinting at the boy she had been crushing on since eighth grade. “Is he not?”

“Not like that,” Samantha cooed. “Forget Minneapolis. I’m moving to London so I can meet attractive boys with accents every day.”

You shook your head at her antics as you hesitantly added some frozen yogurt to your dish.

“Have either of you been here before?” the cute boy piped. “My favorite flavor is cotton candy,” he added when you shook your heads, prompting you to add some to your dish. “I didn’t think you were local based on your accents.”

“What are you doing?” Samantha hissed at your yogurt, choking back laughter. “I thought you hated cotton candy.”

You looked distastefully down at your dish, which had both orange and cotton candy flavored frozen yogurt, as well as a few M&M’s that had ended up in your dish when she tried to put them in hers. “I can’t put it back now,” you groaned, realizing most of the yogurt would go to waste, despite how expensive it was.

You and Samantha carried your yogurts up to the counter where Harry surveyed them with an untrained eye.

“Do you mind if I take a picture of us and your yogurts?” he asked hesitantly, beckoning to the wall beside him where a singular polaroid hung. Had you been closer, you could have made out a picture of himself and the owner, so new that the color was still seeping into every area of the picture. “I’m trying to expand our photo wall.”

You and Samantha leaned in for a picture and he gave you a grateful smile, holding eye contact slightly longer than necessary.

“How much is it?” Samantha asked awkwardly, fidgeting with the tassels on her purse.

Brought out of his trance, the dimpled boy shrugged, feeling his cheeks redden. “You’ll have to excuse me,” he apologized. “It’s my first day.” He disappeared into the door behind him, presumably looking for somebody else to assess the total cost of their yogurts.

~~~

August, 2023

You hadn’t been to England since you went with Samantha’s family the summer before your junior year, but you had recently gotten into traveling again. Traveling overseas solo was a bit of an adjustment, but you had grown accustomed to taking precautions.

Fresh in your mind was the encounter with the cute boy in the ice cream shop you and Samantha had swooned over for months. You promised her you’d visit the shop during your trip and report back about the cute boy behind the counter.

When you arrived at the all-too familiar storefront, you barely recognized it due to the swarms of people thronging outside of it. A line wound out the door and to the end of the block, filled with people from far and near. The line moved slowly through the color-saturated shop. Hanging on the door was a sign that boldly announced The Yogurt Shop’s final day in business.

As you neared the door, you heard a low yet charming voice calling out to the people in the line. “Hello! Welcome to The Yogurt Shop.”

He was tall like you remembered him, but older and more muscular. By the time you filled your yogurt cup (with more desirable flavors, you might add), you noticed the wall of polaroids behind the register. At the top of the second row of pictures were you and Samantha, goo-goo eyed over the cute boy between them, repulsive frozen yogurts in hand.

You pulled out your phone with a trembling hand while he rang you up and turned it around to face him. He squinted his eyes too examine the photo. Samantha with her tongue out, you holding your yogurt in front of your face, and himself, grinning winningly behind you.

He furrowed his eyebrows, blinking a few times as he stared at it. He turned around slowly to face the polaroid wall before turning back to you, smiling slightly so his dimple showed. “Just vanilla?” he joked. “Your palette’s changed.”

“How much?” you motioned to the cash register and he looked down at it as a cheeky smile blossomed on his face. Shaking his head slowly, he waved a hand at your yogurt. “I forgot to apply a discount.”

“How come?” you frowned in confusion as he passed your cup back to you.

He cocked his head to one side, giving you an insufferably broad smile before pushing your cup further into your hands and beckoning for the next person in line.

Taglist: @madybeth21 @groovychaosavenue @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mrspeacem1nusone @cayleyhannha-blog @whitemancumslut @xxrosebunny @hsdaydreaminghaze @daisyharry

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violetsandfluff · 1 year

Text

You Bring Me Home

Liked by harrystyles, yourbestie, mileycyrus, and 43,469 others

yourinstagram sometimes it just feels good to get up and do it 💪🏋️‍♀️🤸‍♀️

View all 1,034 comments

ynfan this is the kind of motivation I need

arianagrande looking amazing, per usual 😘

jefezoff day 1 of telling y/n harry is in love with her

⤷ yourinstagram my dms are always open 🤭

⤷ harrystan IS NO ONE GONNA TALK ABOUT THIS???

arielwinter queennnnnn 👑

Liked by harrystyles, yourbff, ynfan, and 51,280 others

yourinstagram happy brits eve! 🥳

view all 17,981 comments

harrystyles ✨

⤷ ynfan woah woah woah what’s going on here?

⤷ ynrrystan something’s happening.

⤷ ynfan your username is manifesting 😂

jefezoff day 365 of telling y/n harry’s in love with her

⤷ harrystan this is only your third comment all year 😭

oliviarodrigo i need a sweater just like that asap

arianagrande gorgeous!!! can’t wait!

⤷ grandefan01 HI ARI </3

ynfan the cheeky smile… you know she’s up to something ;)

Liked by jefezoff, niallhoran, harryfan, and 99,764 others

harrystyles what an amazing night…

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harryfan YN WAS THERE! THATS WHY IT WAS AWESOME?

⤷ ynfan “shit…shit” just knowing he’s getting railed later

lewiscapaldi thanks for the kiss

yourinstagram clean sweep 💪

⤷harrystyles you know it babe

gemmastyles way to go baby brother

Liked by harrystyles, annetwist, jefezoff, and 102,089 others

yourinstagram sometimes it just feels good to get up and do it. 💒💍💐

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ynrrystan recognize the caption anyone?😫

⤷ ynfan this is so huge!!

selenagomez today was so beautiful I could cry!! wishing you both the best of the best

harrystyles this is quite possibly the best week ever darling. pinch me so I’ll feel it for days

⤷ yourinstagram harry👀

⤷ harryfan don’t forget the brits and grammys! 🤏🤏🤏

annetwist it’s such a privilege to be able to call you my daughter-in-law. my heart is overflowing.

⤷ harryfan a mama’s heart

⤷ swiftie glad your DIL isn’t like taylor’s 😆

jefezoff day 372 of telling y/n harry’s in love with her

face claim Dua Lipa

#harry styles #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake social media #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #social media au #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x fem!reader #dua lipa #dua lipa instagram #flutterfly alley #yellow 💛 heart

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violetsandfluff · 1 year

Text

Lucid Dreaming

a/n: I’m soooo sorry this has taken forever! I hope you’re still around

wc: 1.4k

The line between friends and acquaintances was always foggy. At what point did someone go from being a casual encounter to a bosom friend? Some people seem to radiate a type of energy immediately recognizable as “friend energy,” and Shawn was one of those people for you. His gorgeous smile and contagious laugh made him enjoyable to be around, you couldn’t help it. Even if you had only met him briefly here and there, you couldn’t help but refer to him as your friend behind closed doors.

Everyone around him loved him, understandably, and it wasn’t as if they could prevent it. He was unconditionally outgoing, always ready to listen or laugh. When he talked to you, he made eye contact like you were the only thing in the world. He never failed to make you feel special, but then again, he treated everyone like that. Occasionally, (more often than not), it made you jealous to see him with anyone else but he hardly knew you. What could you expect?

“Someone’s jealous,” your best friend would tease whenever she caught you staring at him forlornly, eyes green with envy.

“I’m not jealous,” you would protest. “I don’t even know him.”

It was true that you had only been on the receiving end of his undying attention a handful of times, but you felt like the entire world rested on those moments. He haunted your dreams with his gorgeous honey-brown eyes and adorable curls, his rosy cheeks, and his uplifting, luminous smile. His lush pink lips always accompanied these dreams, along with his pearly teeth, perfectly defined abs, and smooth, able hands, which had a habit of snaking up your thighs when you least expected them.

Occasionally, he managed to lose his illustrious demeanor in your dreams, appearing as either a frat boy or an affectionate boyfriend, but he was the same Shawn both ways, the one you barely knew, yet couldn’t live without.

Almost as a survival instinct, your dreams began coming true.

One day, you ran into him at a grocery store. Miraculously, you ended up behind him in line, close enough to smell the faint, masculine scent etched into the air. He was dressed in skinny black jeans and a simple white t-shirt, accentuating his broad back and muscular shoulders. His hair was arranged in a perfect mass of curls atop his head, and you couldn’t help but admire it… until he turned around to meet you.

His dark eyebrows raised in surprise as he recognized you, and you couldn’t pull your skittish eyes from his warm, welcoming ones. Just as he opened his mouth to speak to you, the woman in front of him in line finished checking out. He turned away without a word and, once you had finished checking out, he was gone.

He was such a curse. The mere thought of him plagued your mind, making it all but impossible to concentrate on anything. Any encounter with him had you fucked for weeks; dreaming about him at night, during the day, and every moment in between.

One night, you dreamed about seeing him at the beach.

The ocean spanned endlessly before you, wafting its warm, salty breeze toward you tantalizingly. You were alone, dressed in an emerald green swimsuit that accentuated your body perfectly. A layer of sunscreen on top of your newly-tanned skin made you glow in the sunlight. Your hair was tossed carelessly into a messy bun atop your head, along with a pair of sunglasses you didn’t plan on wearing.

You laid your towel down on the sand a few yards away from the beach access and assessed your surroundings. A large group of people was congregated about waist-deep in the water, but one man, in particular, caught your attention. He was tall and muscular, his back tanned by the sun, and his helmet of curls dripping wet with saltwater.

Part of you wanted to believe this someone was Shawn. As nonchalantly as you could, you began creeping slowly closer, pretending to snap pictures of the horizon as you waded into the crystal-clear waters.

A water fight broke out among the group, and the man ducked towards you, laughing, to escape a blow from a beer can now filled with water. Your breath caught in your throat as you caught a glimpse of his face, but you couldn’t tell whether or not it was him.

He visibly noticed you, his hazel eyes fixed on you, and your heart caught in your throat. As soon as it started, however, his attention returned to the water fight.

Another night, you dreamed that you met him, suddenly an attractive bartender, at a club. And yet another night, he brought you home with him from the same club. He laid you in his bed beside him for the night, lying down himself as far away from you as he could to give you respectful space.

Before he knew it, however, you were in his arms with your face buried in his bare chest as you breathed in his scent and traced the contour of his arms, which laid in stark tan contrast against the immaculate white sheets. Your fingers roamed his unclothed upper body, tracing his intricate tattoos meticulously while he fussed over your hair.

“You can’t go to sleep with it down,” he reasoned as you fought his arms in order to trace his guitar skyline tattoo. “It’ll get all tangled and knotty. If you’ll let me braid it, it’ll be smooth and wavy when you wake up. It won’t take forever, I promise.”

“Can you do it later?” you bargained as your hands ventured to his pecs once more to feel the hard muscles move beneath your palms as he rolled over to face you.

“It’s past midnight already, darling. Don’t you think sleep should be a priority?”

“No,” you stated blankly, mulling the situation over in your head before adding, “but I will let you braid my hair.”

Shawn’s fingers made quick work of weaving your hair into two broad French braids. He admired his work once he was done.

“It’s about bedtime now, don’t you think?” he asked sheepishly, to your dismay.

“Please, let me finish tracing your tattoos,” you pleaded, reaching for his hand and clutching it to your chest.

“Finish the swallow and we can go to sleep,” he compromised. “You can finish in the morning. You’re much drunker than I am, but we could both use the rest.”

It was true that you were exhausted at that moment, longing to curl up against your hookup’s chest and melt into him as your world dissolved into that of a dream. The temptation overcame you. You lost yourself in his comforting warmth as his hands caressed your back steadily. His chest rose and fell beside you, creating a rhythm that lulled you to sleep.

Your subconscious made you feel safe and secure encompassed in Shawn’s strong arms, and beside his broad, muscular chest. When you awoke in the morning, feeling rejuvenated and chipper, you reached for him as you had done every morning you’d woken up beside him. Something was different, though.

Shawn was nowhere to be found.

You opened your eyes to see your own familiar bed, in your own familiar bedroom, and the same familiar sunlight streaming through your sheer curtains.

A dissatisfied puff of air escaped your lips as you tried to recall the dream, now hazy in your mind. All you could think about was Shawn, and how the truth was that he could be anywhere with anyone right then, and you had no say in it. Your dream world could be some lucky person’s reality, and you would never know.

A tear of frustration slipped from your tear line down your cheek, but before you could wipe it away, a smooth, low voice cut through your silence.

“I didn’t know you were still here.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I just thought you’d gone home.” You felt the side of the bed dip as he sat down on it, rolling onto his side and perching his chin on your shoulder. He moved his large hands to your hips, holding them tightly as he kissed your cheek. His pink lips were smooth and consoling against your skin.

You allowed them to roam freely across your face and travel down your neck and shoulders, left exposed by a skimpy spaghetti-strap tank top. His fingers ran down your arms delicately, conditioned and calloused by his guitar strings. Goosebumps rose in the wake of his touch.

“Oh, look at you,” he hummed, pleasantly surprised by the slick, moist coating in your panties upon further inspection. “All it takes is for me to leave, hm? Tell me, dear. What were you up to while I was gone?”

taglist: @chocochipcookie305 @butlerbliss @fishingirl12 @monikamendes @sonder444

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes smut #boyfriend!shawn #shawn peter raul mendes #mendes army #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes concept #🫧 anon #flutterfly alley #yellow 💛 heart

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