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elioslover · 6 months

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Little Angel, Only Freak? - Grapejuice.

🎃 Halloween Flashbacks 🎃

This can be read as a stand-alone piece! 👻 I've really been wanting to include some flashback moments from Harry and Klutz's past, so I thought Halloween would be the perfect place to start!

Premise: Harry has been pining over Y/n - his best friends slightly older sister - for as long as he can remember.

GRAPEJUICE MASTERPOST / Other Writing

NB! Y/n's (Klutz) brother's name is Jack. In Grapejuice it's mentioned that Harry may have wrote some songs about Klutz. These events were inspired specifically by two of his masterpieces lmao, so lemme know if you notice any references hehe. - Em. xo

Warnings: Drinking/smoking (this oneshot contains quite a bit due to the fact that they are attending a lot of Halloween parties). Age-gap (2yrs). Self-insert she/her.

Word count: 5.4k

🍷 2011 🍷

Sitting with your legs criss-crossed, on the kitchen counter which is perhaps the highest off of the ground you are most comfortable with. Your firm belief in keeping your feet on the soil, neither under deep waters nor up in the air.

That aside, you are eating a toastie, courtesy of your own cooking- rather surprised that not only did you manage to get ready on time, but actually finished with plenty to spare.

Indulging in your meal, the sound of Travis Scott accompanying your chewing, Harry's sudden appearance in the kitchen is startling, but nothing out of the ordinary. Besides, there have been plenty of worse and compromising interactions in the past.

“Aren’t you too old to be trick-or-treating?” You mumble through your food-filled mouth, eyeing him from top to bottom, shamefully admiring his choice of costume. Perhaps you were a sucker for a sexy pirate- though a large part of you believes the 'sexy' part was unintentional.

Harry only smiles and meanders further into the kitchen, invading the fridge for god knows what before giving up, strolling over to you, invading your space in an instant and with audacity you have never witnessed prior, he snatches the half-devoured triangle of a toastie and takes a hearty bite before speaking through muffled chews,

“Age is but a construct.”

“I guess I agree.” You shrug, thoughts travelling to the dangerously explicit fantasies you experienced at the mere existence of Tom Hard, your brain concocting a dreamland in which a 15-year age gap would be graciously welcomed.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Harry archives the moment. An entirely separate dreamland surrounds him and yourself. But, you still seem so far away, Harry is aching to extend the conversation, “Where are you off to, a Tarantino-themed party?”

“That my dear, is none of your business.”

“Well for what it’s worth,” he informs both sweetly and sultry, “you make a beautiful *Viper.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Styles.” You open the gates and let your guard down, needing him to know you notice him- see him, and if vulnerability is the way to make that clear, god willing, something inside you wishes to share it.

Harry is stunned- your words are one thing, your tone is another. He wants, no, he needs to hear your softness, again and again. Then there is an invasive double honk and it can only belong to the red Mazda parked in the driveway, stark headlights shining through the kitchen curtains.

You hop off the counter without a care in the world, straighten out your costume, and check your makeup in the reflection of the microwave before strolling straight past Harry and into the entrance hall, grabbing your matching purse. You raise your voice to address both your brother and the sexy pouting pirate stunned to silence,

“That’s my ride." Certain they've both heard, you open the front door and as an afterthought, call over your shoulder, "Save me a Mars bar!”

👻

The boys are in line for the entrance to a club that Jack stated would be "popping", but there is a clear age limit and Harry's anxiety is already reaching its limit. He turns to Darth Vader- ignoring how ridiculous his friend is- and Harry cautiously ponders aloud,

“Are you sure we’re even gonna get in?”

“Trust me.” Jack sternly enforces.

“What is this hold you have over me?” Harry concedes.

By what could either be deemed a miracle or exceptional finesse, it's not long before the boys have their left wrists stamped with a small ink jack-o-lantern, and are entering the club.

“See! Am I ever wrong?” Jack projects against the booming bass, but Harry certainly hears him, more focused on the dissipating nerves being replaced with confidence.

“Drinks!” Jack doesn't allow a retort, making his way to the bar with the assurance that Harry is following close behind. Harry was, and after a few other patrons are tended to, the boys order their choices and cheer a duet of tequilas in celebration of their success.

The tequila is still travelling down Harry's throat when a voice, so sweet and so familiar, almost causes him to choke, his eyes opening, neck dropping to look at the person who had exclaimed "Oi!". Unsurprisingly, you are standing there, arms on your hips, a look of disappointment painted across your face,

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“To be fair, I didn’t expect you to be here either.” Jack shrugs.

“I thought you were trick-or-treating, Jack." You chide.

“Oh, please, we’re seventeen. You knew that was a cover.” His eye-rolls with a jovial smirk.

“Still. I thought at least a house party.”

“Which is exactly where you said you would be.”

“Shut up.” Your last line of defence.

“C’mon, Y/n. Go have fun, it’ll be like we’re not even here.”

With a dissatisfied sigh, you grab your drink from the bar counter and gather within the group of girls all dressed with glamorous uniqueness, disappearing into the mass of dancers, praying that Jack’s statement would prove correct.

But, as expected, this promise was broken within the first hour after the desperate need for a Marlboro was lulling in your lungs, and for some useless and godforsaken reason, smoking is banned from the bar and dancefloor- bar vaping- however, due to the lack of an outside area, the designated smoking zone was the hallway.

After a trip to the bathroom- which had vanity counters, ladies waiting near the cashmere wash towels to unnecessarily aid in drying your hands; each bathroom is garnished with gold framing and every stall comes with a little glass table attached to the wall; perfect for cutting lines of coke- you decided it was time to settle down for a good smoke, spotting an empty, luxurious maroon and velvet two-seater sofa.

Your focus is on the ridiculous custom silver bear lighter you bought second-hand, your head bowed, smoke balanced between your lips, so it comes as a great surprise when you glance up and Harry is standing before you. By the time your cigarette sets alight, he is settled next to you on the lounger,

“Fancy seeing you here.” He teases lazily.

“You lost Jack?” You shift your body to better see him, simultaneously handing him your smoke.

“Always do.” He softly chuckles, knuckles brushing your fingertips in exchange, and he takes a good drag, hoping it will miraculously cure the anxiety that seemed to return the moment he found himself alone.

“That guy’s a menace.”

"This is the strangest hallway I've ever seen." He comments, glancing around the room of scattered stoners and straight smokers. Then he remembers the house he visited less than three hours ago, "And that's saying something."

"Our hallway is not that bad." You lamely defend- this conversation has been ongoing since youth.

"Can't believe we're sitting on a chez lounge." Harry marvels, hand stroking at the smooth material.

"This place truly is something." You agree, proceeding to ponder the answer to a premonition she needs confirmation for, “What are you doing over here?”

“Just needed a breather.” He admits. “You?”

“Guess I’m doing the same.” You consider.

“What’s the matter, klutz?” He reads your mood like a medium- some sort of magician.

“Boys are shitty.” You allow him the tip of the ice burg- it has been bugging you, perhaps not as much as the other things bothering and plaguing you.

“We are.” He agrees lightly, knowing it would be detrimental to pry.

“You aren’t. most of the time, anyway.”

“I thought I was the most annoying person you know.”

“You are. Maybe ever.” You dramatise your distaste, “But you are by no means shitty.”

For a reason Harry had always known, yet never questioned, he found your presence as relaxing as falling asleep cradled by a fluffy cloud. He briefly wonders if you feel the same, but knows better than to embrace hope. Nevertheless, he says what he can guarantee will suit your interesting demeanour,

“I’m sorry about… whatever you’re going through.”

“Thanks, Harry.” You smile earnestly as the pair of you proceed to pass the cigarette back and forth, comfortable in the presence of taking a cool-down.

But, with your vulnerability out in the open, it becomes mandatory to verify the reason he is currently sitting beside you,

“Why aren’t you down there?”

Harry knew it was coming, thought about what to say, and came up with a few reasonable excuses but as soon as the question leaves your quirked and lush lips, the truth comes pouring out and he cannot do anything but witness his honesty,

“I feel out of my element.”

“That’s all in your head.” You try to reassure him, knowing it isn’t that simple, yet hoping he might allow you the chance to prove it, even for just a moment.

“Oh, is that right?” He smirks.

You are standing before he can blink twice, singing your cigarette in the ashtray and reaching your arm out for him to join you,

“C’mon, I’ll show you.”

He doesn’t protest- he doesn’t even hesitate as he wraps his hand in your own, raising from the chair and allowing you to drag him wherever you please.

This results in descending stairs, weaving through a crowd before finally reaching the destination; the bar. He shouldn’t be surprised, but the pleasure and subconscious pride he wore as you tugged him about, moving closer, sometimes a few steps apart, but never letting go of his hand- even if only one finger was hooked to his own.

The bartender arrives with such haste that Harry is almost certain it has something to do with your beauty- it does- but mere moments later he finds out that you are in fact a regular visitor- and a loved one, at that.

Harry is so enamoured and floored with such an overload of new information about you that he hardly registers when you tilt over the counter and order four tequilas.

And when the tequila arrives, there are five, offered as, ‘on the house’. Your reaction is mischievous and Harry feels exhilarated at the promise of your mission to make his night memorable.

“Bottoms up.” You command, double-parking and encouraging Harry to wrap both of his shot glasses in each palm. He does as follows, giving you awkward cheers before copying your skill and tossing back the tequila one after the other. You then guide Harry to drop both glasses on the table and immediately grab the lonesome shot glass, still filled to the brim.

You go in for half a sip, savouring the sharp spirits slipping down your throat but leaving half the glass full. Handing it over to Harry he finishes the drink and turns to you in anticipation for further instructions. Your shoulders can’t resist a consequential shudder, and then you clap your hands together and cheekily beam up at him,

“Now, we dance.”

“I can’t dance.” His pitch is one of panic and protest.

“Neither can I.” You answer proudly, wrapping his hand in your own and leading him onto the dancefloor.

🍷 2016 🍷

Your boyfriend has caused yet another scene, taking it personally when some poor guy dressed as a zombie accidentally stepped on his foot.

Before he had the chance to toss more furniture, you plan an escape and make a beeline for the kitchen- somewhere likely to be devoid of party-goers. But when you round the corner, the sight of Harry, dressed in a white and red striped shirt, hair quaffed beneath a goofy matching beanie, and eyes framed by large, black round glasses. He's sitting on the counter, his light jean-clad legs dangling, shoes knocking against the bottom cabinets.

He seems too calm for such a festive evening, especially when he is as notorious as Jack when it comes to turning into a playful nuisance- affectionate, chatty, and likely to end up attempting to dance.

You walk straight over, only coming to a halt when your sternum presses into his knees, and beneath those gaudy glasses, you don't miss the way his deep green eyes swell and his lashes bash beautifully with bafflement.

"Ah, here's Waldo." You beam up at him.

"Y'got me." He lightly shrugged, a sneaky smile painting his cheeks.

"What do I win?"

Eyes widening with an accompanying Chesire cat smile, your tone tainted with taunting cheeriness. But, nonsensically you lean in closer, bare abdomen grazing his denim.

Whether intentional or not, Harry is set alight, his burning knees spreading along his stomach, trailing up his chest, simmering his heart and throat, coals burning at his cheeks and brain. He is so stoned on placebo, that his mouth is unable to project his profession,

"Anything you want."

You are experiencing first-degree burns, bathing yourself in diversion,

"Are these your real glasses?" You lean your face forward, lining up with his own, your hands gently clasping the black frames and examining the determined false lenses. "Guess not."

There are less than zero reasons for your bodies to remain so stuck, relaxed in the sanctuary of physical contact, but neither of you makes an attempt to move, unaddressed and absolutely mad. You deem it time to turn things around,

"Avoiding the party?"

"A little." He shrugs.

"Bad company?"

"The worst." He tilts his chin to the ceiling before returning his gaze to your own, "Though I can't imagine I'm much better."

"Anything is better than the mess going on outside." You meet his pondersome eyes with a competitive roll of your own.

Now Harry understands the crash he had heard through the kitchen window. Your expressions of annoyance and disappointment emit all of the information he needs to know,

"Dickie acting up again?"

"You know that's not his name."

"It should be."

Harry has never shied away from expressing his distaste for your boyfriend- simply because you were dating him. Harry was hardly around, and when he was, you were almost guaranteed to be absent due to plans with Ricky.

With a sudden bough of frustration, your hands press into Harry's upper thighs to properly balance yourself. he does everything- and more- to avoid physically reacting to your unusual closeness. You breathe out and it matches the mournful furrow of your brow,

"He's just... why does he have to be so aggressive?"

"Yeah, that table certainly didn't deserve that." Harry leans in, looking down at you with a worrisome but sensitive demeanour. And then he leaps and lightly wraps his hand around your hip.

His eyes are studying your soft face, his heart focused on your sweet features and the feeling of your skin separated by his clothes, but his head is still stuck on the confusion currently holding you captive. He can't help by prying,

"He's not... aggressive with you, right?"

"Not yet." The words trail off of your tongue. And then you toss everything aside, pressing your fingers into his thigh "I don't wanna talk about it right now."

Harry doesn't know how to react, sudden shocks of arousal emulating at the discomfort of your digging nails, the desperate desire to destroy the distance between your lips, loop his arm around your neck, softly cup your cheek and express how special you should be treated- with such certainty that you never forget,

"I like your costume. Might be your best so far."

It definitely is, you are rather impressed with how well your Other Mother costume turned out. Though, your already tragic bank account has taken a traumatic bashing,

"I spent way too much money on it."

"How much?" His grin is mischievous.

"Too much."

"Now I have to know." He pleads, but know you will never utter the shame you suffer. He won't let you off the hook so easy, though, "Just to rub it in, I'll have you know, I only spent three pounds."

You huff, leaning further into his touch, enjoying the feeling of his fingers on your flesh. He has to tilt to see you fully, and you aid him craning your neck to meet him in the middle, dismissing the deemed unnecessary distance,

"Well, you've done a terrible job at making it hard to find you."

"Maybe I wanted you to find me." He shrugs with suave.

"That was ambitious."

"It worked, yeah?" He is seeping with playful pride, though he cannot prevent his need to compliment you- perhaps the only way to get his attraction across was through words, true words at that, "You really do look beautiful."

"Not just sexy?"

"Sexy as fuck." He groans, fingers pressing into the plush fleshyness of your waist, "But not just sexy."

"Filthy." You scold seductively.

And then you seem to find yourself sinking further into his touch, trying with everything in you to get nearer- his neck so biteable, collarbone begging for loving bruises. Harry is on the same page, body pressing into your own, his palm trailing up and settling on your lower back.

You think he might kiss you. You think you are out of your mind... But, you think you're going to let him. The only thing to pause your seemingly-senseless thoughts is the defensive, stern, and frankly, threatening boom of your boyfriend,

"Hey, what the fuck are you doing with my girl?"

Like velcro being violently ripped apart, you have never moved with such haste in all of your current existence to date. Harry is now at least three feet away from you, and your boyfriend is berzerkly striding towards him. Harry calmly and rationally raises his palms in defence,

"Nothing, mate."

"Ricky-" You edge closer.

But, your boyfriend has already aimed his fist at Harry's face, and instead of reacting with returned aggression, he interjects,

"Mate, chill out." Harry reasons with a casual shrug, "She's like a sister to me."

An invasive feeling of disappointment pangs at your heart at the sound of sister, and to this day you will not analyse why. It was something you were guaranteed to repeat in the future.

"Am I supposed to believe that?" Ricky scoffs but his arm drops to his side nevertheless.

Harry hops off of the counter with ease, stepping past your boyfriend with effortless confidence. He glances over at you for a mere instance- not long enough for you to comprehend the event that just unfolded.

He reaches over to the nearest countertop and grabs his solo-cup and before turning his back completely, he addresses Ricky with finality,

"Believe what you want, Batman."

🍷 2018 🍷

Harry knocks for a third time before Jack finally answers the door- and when he does, dressed Pennywise- a red balloon tied to his wrist- Harry instantly regrets his entire life, attempting to prepare for a chaotic Halloween party. Whenever Jack finds himself in an extravagant, far-too-detailed costume, two things are certain; there will be a magically, monstrous punch bowl, and Jack will be dancing on any piece of furniture that catches his eye.

“So, this was your last-minute decision?” Harry works hard to keep the disturbed feelings from projecting across his features.

“It was this or Heisenburg, okay?” Jack sighs, audatiously comparing his- what can only be described as a slutty Pennywise to simply purchasing a hazmat.

“How much time did you spend on this?” Harry finds his amusement increasing.

“Too long.” Jack admits with distaste. But all in all, This is the best of his costumes to date, and Harry certainly agrees.

“I’m sure the ladies will love it.” He commends, and Jack nods avidly, his face mimicking that of confidence.

Harry ponders halfheartedly as they enter the home Harry knows so well- the home he spent at least a quarter of his 28 years. It's only as he reaches the living room, packed with both familiar and unfamiliar faces. Many of them seem older than he, and Harry can only assume these are friends of Jack’s college, and your work colleagues.

A pang of panic threatens to become a full-blown wave of disappointment and regret. Missing out on the life he could have had.

Before he can be swept away by his newfound unfamiliarity, Jack has led them to the makeshift bar- a dining table decorated with spooky decorations, all surrounding the notorious monster of the eve- the Halloween punch. Harry doesn’t protest- by this point he deems it necessary.

Lightly tapping their cups together in cheers. Jack takes a hearty sip before his brows suddenly raise in realization,

“Huh. That’s funny.” Jack finally takes a moment to acknowledge his best friend, emulating the Devil himself.

“Hm?” Harry asks halfheartedly, eyes scanning the room for something and he doesn’t even know what.

“I just noticed your costume.”

Harry’s gaze snaps back to Jack, giving him a puzzled look, masking a sudden bough of insecurity simmering beneath the surface,

“I look funny?”

“No, Y/n told me she was gonna be an Angel. Coincidence, huh?” Jack shrugs.

“Is she here?” Harry tries to hide the sudden panic.

“Not yet. You know she’s gonna lose her mind over it.” Jack grins, always bemused by the so-called banter between his sister and best friend.

Harry’s panic is substituted by an odd sense of relief- he now knows what- or who- he had been searching for. With a bough of mischievous confidence, he mimics his best friend's grin and informs,

“Just what I wanted to hear.”

👻

Upon the news of his holy crush’s imminent arrival, Harry finishes his first punch cup and then heads towards the ‘bar’ to pour another.

Pleasantly, someone is already attending to the punch- an old teammate from his high school football team has the same intentions, finishing up on filling his cup before recognizing Harry and enthusiastically initiating a catch-up. One that proves helpful, replacing his thoughts of you with good conversation and in turn, allows him to react.

It’s unclear how long this chat persisted as the boys moved from the make-shift bar to a spot on the porch- already scattered with smokers and an extremely tense game of beer-pong.

Eventually, the punch has caught up with him and Harry has to excuse himself in favour of the bathroom. This should be an easy enough task, but this monstrous punch has proved poisonous as it lags his movements and encourages him to take a long, good look at himself in the cobweb-framed mirror.

Impressed with his costume, and impressed with how calm and cheery he felt. Things don’t seem so bad- the intrusive thoughts were offering silence for the sake of letting him have a good time.

His best friend’s home has always had the oddest of hallways. A complicated combination of narrow to wide, with unnecessary corners and nooks. These proved sacred during the times of childhood, the perfect place to out-smart the person trying to yell, ‘Tag, you’re it!’ Now, this hallway is treacherous and Harry longs to find himself back in the living room, especially with the amount of party-goers crowding the corridor.

Looking back, Harry wonders if he would have even seen you wedged between a pair of what seems to be Cersei and Jaime Lannister. It would be hard not to, with the way the shimmering satin dress and the sparkling halo create a ring of glory around you.

But you certainly see him, meandering down the hallway dressed in a costume to match your own. Your first feeling should be annoyance, but unfortunately, your thoughts are redirected to just how good he looks.

The duo you were humouring are a thing of the past as you mutter an “excuse me”- gaze and mind already set on intercepting Satan himself.

He’s leaning against the wall- being extra careful to not knock over any picture frames. His head is bowed, contemplating his next move and it suddenly and forcefully occurs to him that his original plan to find you was diverted by a pointless side-quest.

As if the thin veil of Halloween was thoughtful enough to grant him instant gratification, a set of white heels, laced to the upper calf is walking his way. He lets his eyes trail the length of soft thighs up to the seams of lacy trim, savouring each fleshy, smooth thigh before finally addressing the owner's face.

When his eyes are met with your own, glittering with each blink, Harry’s widen in surprise, jaw threatening to slack as you stop before him. Giving him a good glance before mimicking his stance and balancing yourself against the wall.

“Well, well, well.” Your tone is both amused and annoyed.

A sudden rush of ease and euphoria washes over him at the coolness of your mood- though, that was subject to change rather quickly in the presence of Harry.

On a whim you attribute to both a poisonous punch and the devil standing before you, Harry is taken off guard by the sudden contact of your palm on his chest, even more, surprised as you push and guide him into the nearest alcove.

But that was as far as your thoughts had progressed, what was the plan now? This is a result of impulsivity, and when you concede and don’t go on to say anything further, Harry takes the opportunity to back you into the corner, arms balancing loosely on the wall near your face.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” His smile is cheesy.

“I’m sure you’re enjoying this.” Your eyes roll, arms crossing your chest in distaste.

Harry tilts down ever so slightly, aligning his lips with the shell of your ear,

“Loving it.”

“And I’m supposed to believe this is just a coincidence?”

“Believe what you want, Angel.”

He returns to his previous position, aching to get a better look at your face, hoping that the blush pink scattered across your cheeks is a product of not makeup, but himself. You cannot admit that it’s a combination of both- not even to yourself- instead opting for a classic eye-roll and continuing to do what you do best,

“I see you chose to go costume-less this year.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“You’re the Devil.” You try, “Truly.”

By now, your hands have dropped to your sides, securing distance but still unexplainably allowing Harry the chance to wander closer if he wishes. He does, but only enough for your chests to brush, his head bowed to gaze your way, one of his hands reaching out to fiddle with the accessory adorning your head,

“Why, because I make you want to ditch that pretty little halo?”

“You’re insane.” You chide, palm raising to his abdomen in protest.

“And you want me.” He articulates with certainty.

“Correction, you’re psychotic.”

But you like the feeling of his muscles tensing beneath your hold, the musky and fruity aroma invading your senses. The curve where his shoulder and neck meet is aligned with your chin, and for a split second, you ponder the impulse to get closer, latch your lips to his skin and sink your teeth in.

Harry likes having you so near, he can smell the Chanel and cocoa butter seeping from your skin, the crown of your head smells of something fruity and fresh. And when your hand absentmindedly trails further along his stomach, settling on his shoulder, Harry almost stops breathing when his impulses get the best of him, wrapping his free arm around your waist, and when you don’t protest and your free arm goes to rest along his shoulder, he thinks he might have a chance,

“Are you sure, pretty Angel? Your body seems to think otherwise.”

“Shut up, Harry.”

“You’re more than welcome.” he smirks, loving the way your eyes simmer with conflict, “…To shut me up, that is.”

You decide that fame has done a lot to him, not just the typical singing, stadiums and superstardom, so why the hell is he talking like a… man? Like he knows how to seduce a woman, and why the fuck does that make your stomach churn with curiosity.

But, you remind yourself that age equals experience and that makes you the superior. Besides, from the way he’s currently behaving, you have an inkling that his ego has likely inflated.

This could be fun. Two could play at this game, and no matter the amount of fraternizing Harry may have committed, you were competitively and egotistically prepared to knock him down a peg.

Raising to the tip of your toes, hand tightening on his shoulder, nails softly scratching at his back, your other hand reaching to wrap around his neck, your thumb stroking the crook of his chin. Batting your eyelashes with a lick of the lips, you ensure he hears each and every word,

“Is that what you want, sweet boy?” You coo, and Harry stiffens in an instant, blinking rapidly as you push on, “Want me to take care of you?”

“You can do whatever you want.” He blurts out before the ‘ou’, fist flexing against the wall, his body aching to be tangled up with your own.

It's cute, and unnecessarily arousing, and as much as you know you shouldn’t, there’s an ache in your chest that chants for you to crumb him along for just a little longer,

“Pity. After all, this is just a costume.”

“Prove it.”

His eyes are eager, nose bumping along your forehead, and your hand comes to its finale as it holds his cheek in place, gently pulling his face nearer to your own. You pout, but the sly smirk prints itself at the corners of your lips nevertheless,

“A Devil certainly isn't deserving.”

“Prove it anyways.”

Harry thinks he’s about two sentences away from begging for something he didn’t know he needed so desperately. As much as it pains you to put a pin in this, the confusion of juxtaposition of attraction is threatening to make you light-headed.

“No.”

So, to Harry’s utter dismay, you release him from your hold and tactfully slip out between the space you once occupied. With one more sympathetic pat on his shoulder, you smile at him and make your way back down the hallway, feathered wings taunting him in your wake.

🍷 2019 🍷

Harry was lucky enough to have been in town for Halloween- he can't count how many holidays he missed over the last half-decade. He’s dressed as her favourite thing; a teddy bear- fuzzy ears and makeup to match. Your brother, Jack was hosting his famously chaotic annual Halloween celebration, and Harry was far too giddy at the guarantee of seeing you again. He can't count the missed holidays, but he can certainly count how many years it’s been since you last spoke- mar the quick birthday wishes, and periodic congratulations and praise.

But, after an hour or so, he is starting to doubt his certainty, gaze shamelessly studying the room, hoping he had merely missed your arrival. Two solo cups of warm beer later, Harry is itching to locate you- this is your tradition after all, and he was so sure that this time would end differently, that she would finally see him for the man he was becoming.

He definitely wouldn’t be asking Jack why you weren’t here- partially because he seems preoccupied with a makeshift gravity bong. Instead, Harry seeks out one of your oldest friends, Nova, who is dressed as a Harley Quinn, but before he can even reach the group in which she mingles, his boot trips on a rug and unable to help it, the contents of his cup comes spilling out, splashing and coating Nova’s front with the sticky substance. After apologising profusely- even if just to come off polite- Harry musters up the humility to ponder your lack of presence.

Disheartened and disappointed when she responds with, “She’s in Italy”, Harry is once again confused by Jack’s lack of mentioning the news. Though none of his business, the dichotomy of standing his ground and avoiding the question versus caving in and simply asking Jack has him in quite the frenzy.

The rest of the evening is a bore- Harry switches to ginger ale, and though he attempts to mingle, maintaining interest proves to be impossible, and for the first time, Harry makes the decision to head home early.

But, now, with a make-up-free face and his favourite jammies, he is tucked beneath the fluffiest sheets and your mere existence is pulling the sheets tighter, trapping him in a series of thoughts of yours truly, thinking about you.

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hldailyupdate · 10 months

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Harry getting showered in flowers tonight! 🥹

Love On Tour 2023: London, Night 3. (16 June 2023)

#harry styles #harry update #love on tour #love on tour 2023: london night 3 #grapejuice #video #twitter #june 2023

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anchorandrope · 2 years

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Leaked songs of April 20, 2022

Harry's House

Unreleased

One Direction Demos

Without You | Trouble | Hunger | Lay Down

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madihasheikh · 2 years

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Harry wrote the lyrics "So you tie up your hair and you smile like it's no big deal" to the people who wash up their face after an emotional breakdown where they cry their heart out and just want to let everything go cause they can't do this no more but are not financially in this state where they can support themselves so they wipe the tears and tie up their hair and look themselves in mirror, smile and say the word "you got this" over and over till they make another wall round their heart so no one can get past this, but eventually they do and the cycle repeats over and over again...

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catfindr · 1 year

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#petfinder #catfinder #cat #kitten #kitty #food mention #grapejuice #ne #nebraska

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satelliteddie · 2 years

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grapejuice - e.m.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: a nervous eddie tries his best to buy you flowers and wine for the first time, but can’t seem to get it right

content warnings: implied sex (but no details), neck kisses, first time saying I love you to each other <3

word count: 3.7k

author’s notes: had to write in some eddie and wayne interactions bc we were ROBBED of them; anyways, enjoy xx

Yesterday, it finally came, a sunny afternoon

I was on my way to buy some flowers for you

Thought that we could hide away in a corner of the heath

There's never been someone who's so perfect for me

Eddie is way out of his element. I don’t even know which flowers she would like. His brain is running in circles as he stares at the endless rows of floral arrangements. Half of these flowers look like weeds to him, while the other half seems like they were artificially dyed. Eddie knows you—better than he knows anyone, but when he looks at these flowers, it seems like everything he once knew goes out the window.

“Did you need some help?” A Bradley’s Big Buy employee asks. She wipes her hands on her apron and smiles at Eddie.

“Uh,” Eddie stutters. He focuses his attention on her employee badge, “Stacy, is it? I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Okay,” Stacy sighs, pressing her lips together. “Are these for a girlfriend?” Eddie nods in response, his whole body is itchy. He wants to go home and forget this entire thing. You’ve told him time and time again that you don’t need material things. However, Eddie knows you like flowers; you and Nancy always gush over the ones Jonathan sends her. You would never tell him, but you always hoped Eddie would pick up on how much you wanted to get flowers from him. Eddie had tried to get you a fancy arrangement for your first official date; he even went to a florist for them…but he panicked and told the clerk they were for a funeral and ran out of the store before he could pick any out. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to get you flowers, he did. It killed him that he wasn’t good at this couple-type stuff. So here he was, in a discount supermarket picking out week old flowers. They weren’t a personalized arrangement by any means, but it was better than nothing. “Does she have a favorite color?” Stacy suggests, as she picks up a few bouquets from the buckets on the wall

“She loves all orange and pink tones, whenever there’s a pretty sunset she always says: ‘that’s it, that’s my favorite color’. It’s one of my favorite things—” Eddie coughs and stops his rambling when he notices Stacy watching him closely. “Sorry I don’t know why I told you all of that, I’m out of my element here.”

Stacy grabs two clusters of flowers from the selection; one set of pastel pink and red colored roses and the other a mix of orange and yellow flowers with all different shaped petals. “Listen,” Stacy whispers. “I don’t know you, and I don’t know your girlfriend, but no matter what you get she’ll be happy with them—it’s the thought that counts. However, if you want to guarantee she’s more than happy, I would go with these.” She passes the two bundles to Eddie, “you can even take them out of the plastic, mix the two together and put them in a vase. She’ll never know you got them from Bradley’s.” Eddie thanks her profusely before checking out of the store. His arms ache from carrying all the bags to the van. Pasta, check. Sauce, check. Cheese, check. Random vegetables that Nancy told him would elevate the sauce, check. Wine, check. Flowers, check. Eddie went through his mental checklist a half a dozen times in his mind hoping he remembered everything. Eddie tried his best to contain his nerves as he drove from the store back home. This would be the first time he actually cooked for you; every day for the last four months, Eddie had wanted to cook for you and treat you like royalty. He was so disgustingly in love with you that he would do anything for you…yet every time he tried to wine and dine you something went amiss. He burnt the chicken the last time, undercooked the burgers the time before, and somehow overcooked a salad before that. This time would be different, he knew it would be. The last times he tried, he wasn’t sure that he was in love with you, but this time? Eddie was in love with you. Tonight he would tell you and make it official, but he needed everything to go right first. Eddie shuffles inside the trailer with the groceries and tosses them onto the counter.

“Your girl coming over tonight?” Eddie’s Uncle Wayne asks while looking over the top of his coffee mug. “Has to be the only reason you would willingly go food shopping. Haven’t helped me in years.”

“C’mon, Wayne. Now isn’t the time for this,” Eddie pulls out all of his purchases from the plastic bags. “You told me you wouldn’t be home, by the way.” Eddie points at his uncle from the kitchen. Wayne rocks back and forth in the recliner that sits in the far side of the living room. Eddie continues to take out the penne pasta, pasta sauce, red wine, vegetables, and other ingredients from the bag and lays them out on the counter. He goes through his mental checklist again and smiles down at his purchases. I remembered it all.

“You making penne vodka?” Wayne asks, moving from his seat into the kitchen. He pushes around Eddie’s collection, taking in all the ingredients. Eddie nods, while his mind races thinking about how you always order penne alla vodka when you go to Enzo’s with your family. “You bought the wrong wine, Son.”

“What?” Eddie blinks harshly at his uncle. “It’s wine, how can it be wrong?”

“You bought a cheap red wine, it’s way too acidic. You need a white wine like a Chardonnay or something.”

“First of all how do you, of all people, know that? Second, shit, shit, shit!” Eddie curses, grabbing at the roots of his hair. “What am I gonna do? She’s gonna be here any minute!”

“Look, I have an old bottle of white in the closet. It’s cheap and pretty much grapejuice, but it could work for you kids.” Wayne crouches down as he digs in the pantry looking for a bottle of wine. “I got it as a work gift, so it can’t be that bad.” He turns the label to Eddie and passes the bottle to him. Eddie releases his breath and puts the wine onto the countertop next to the pasta. He nods in appreciation at his uncle and Wayne smirks at him, “glad I was home now, huh?”

“Dick,” Eddie mutters while Wayne ruffles a hand through Eddie’s hair on his way out of the trailer.

But I got over it and I said

"Give me somethin' old and red"

I pay for it more than I did back then

There's just no gettin' through

Without you

A bottle of rouge

Just me and you

You puff out your cheeks as you put your car into park in front of the Munson trailer. I can do this, just a normal date with my boyfriend. You think as you check your makeup one last time in the rearview mirror. No, it’s not just a date. I’m gonna tell him I love him. Your devil's advocate practically screams. After another minute, you stand from your car and walk up the front steps of the trailer. Raising a fist to the door, you knock against the window pane. Muffled steps come from inside and before you know it a disheveled Eddie whips open the door. “My girl,” he smiles. “You look, God you look amazing.”

You glance down at your sundress and Keds (a favorite combination of Eddie’s), your cheeks burn from his words as you look up at him. “Hi, Eds.” Eddie runs his fingers down your arms and clasps his hands with yours. The smile on his face continues to grow as he pulls you inside his home. “Hi, sweetheart.” Eddie moves his hands from yours and plants them on the sides of your neck, bringing his mouth down to yours. He can’t help but smile into the kiss, his teeth gently scraping your lips. His smile is infectious as you break the kiss, “what’s got you all smiley today?” You ask in between giggles, Eddie continues to pepper kisses all across your face.

“I just–” he shakes his head, “I just missed you.” You can tell he’s lying, but you don’t push him. The two of you step into the kitchen and you notice the small dish towels all over the tile floor. “Uh Eddie?” You ask as you step over the mess on the floor, “what happened here?”

“We’re having pasta so I got red wine, which I now realize is wrong, thanks to Wayne,” Eddie rambles on as he picks up the towels and tosses them into the sink. He gently nudges you back from the mess as he picks up the broken shards of glass, “So Wayne gave me another bottle, but then I- I dropped it.” He shakes his head staring at the ground, “I messed it up again.”

“Eds–” you reach for him, but he doesn’t let you pass the threshold of the kitchen. Just in case the broken glass dares to touch you, Eddie steps towards you, his sneakers crunching against the shards near his feet.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry I ruined it,” Eddie’s eyes are closed again as he runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “I can’t ever get it right. I just get so nervous, I don’t know how to do this.”

“Hey,” you bend down, trying to meet his eyes that are now focused on the floor. You run your fingers over his curls and tuck them behind his ear, “I’m so over all those white wines anyways”

“Yeah?” He asks, slowly opening his eyes. The deep brown shade of his eyes seems to be even warmer tonight as he looks right into your eyes.

“Yeah, besides I bought wine today,” you reach into your tote on your shoulder. “Figuring you wouldn’t have a clue how to pair wine.” You tease as you place the bottle on the counter behind the two of you.

“God, I love you,” the words slip from Eddie’s mouth before he can stop them.

“What?”

Sittin' in the garden, I'm a couple glasses in

I was tryna count up all the places we've been

You're always there, so don't overthink

I'm so over whites and pinks

“Nothing,” Eddie states, moving back to the kitchen. He rushes over to sweep up the rest of his mess. He turns his attention to the cooked pasta as he drains it into the strainer placed in the sink.

“Eddie–” you try to get him to look back at you.

“I didn’t say anything, nope. Nothing. I’m drunk. Yep, drunk,” Eddie rambles on. You stand behind him as he tosses the pasta in the sauce warming on the stove top.

“Fine,” you huff. “I’ll let it go, for now.” You smile at him and Eddie returns it. He nods in a silent ‘thank you’. You had a feeling that Eddie did love you, but hearing the words directly from him struck you right in the center of your chest. This night meant a lot to him and you could tell his word-vomit just threw him totally off his game. You swallow your pride, knowing you’ll bring the conversation up later and pretend it didn’t happen. “So what’s on the menu?”

“Penne alla Eddie,” he grins as he moves around the pasta, sauce, and vegetables in the pan.

You chuckle at his corny nature, “Alla Eddie? Never heard of it.”

“Yes, that's because I only make it for very special occasions.” Eddie comments as you slip into a stool behind the breakfast bar. Eddie has the sleeves of a button up shirt (presumably one of Wayne’s), rolled up to his elbows, his dark wash jeans are cleaner than you’ve ever seen them and his white sneakers have definitely been scrubbed. His fingers are tapping against his thigh to a song you can’t place, but you know it’s his nervous tick. This is a special occasion. You smile at your boyfriend and the time and effort he took to make tonight special for you both. Eddie continues to cook while you two make small talk about work, Hellfire, and how ridiculous Robin and Steve look in their new Family Video uniforms. Eventually, Eddie finishes with the pasta and flicks off the stove.

“Alright sweetheart,” he smiles at you. “I’m gonna need you to stay here for five minutes. And promise me you won’t peek outside.” Eddie knows how much you hate surprises, but this time you let it go and promise you won’t look. You keep your eyes fixed on the counter, as you hear Eddie shuffling back and forth from the small kitchen to the front door. After a few minutes, Eddie tips your chin up to meet his eye line. You raise your eyebrows at him, “ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he smiles and places a quick kiss on your lips. “C’mon.” Eddie pulls you from the stool in the kitchen, out the front door. You’re confused for only a moment before you notice the elaborate set up. Just a few steps outside of the trailer, Eddie has a wooden picnic table (that he for sure ‘borrowed’ from the communal portion of the trailer park), covered with a sheet and decorated with small tea light candles and flowers. You contain your gasp as you take in the entire scene. He cooked for me and did all of this? Eddie leads you to the table and holds your hand as you take a seat on the wooden bench. Eddie jogs around the other side and sits directly in front of you. There’s two plates of pasta made up for both of you, but you can’t even focus on it as your eyes stay fixed on the flowers. The flowers. In the center of the table sits a perfect bouquet of orange, yellow, pink and red flowers that bring the entire scene together. He bought those for me?

“Is this okay?” Eddie breaks the silence and you pull your focus back to him. He continues, “I know it’s not Enzo’s, but—are you crying?” He stops dead in his tracks. Did he read this all wrong?

“No,” you sniffle trying to hide your emotions. Eddie smiles at your lie, but you continue: “This all just, it’s too much Eds. You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Yes, I did.” The crease between his eyebrows deepens, “you deserve so much more than this.” He reaches across the table and grabs your hand. His silver rings are cool against your skin, and cause goosebumps as he moves them back and forth over your knuckles. “I know you would never ask for this, or- or even say you like it…so I really hope I’m not getting this all wrong, but I just wanted to show you how much I care about you. About us.” Eddie emphasizes, his hands still fidgeting with yours.

“Eddie, you show me everyday,” you frown at him. You would hate for Eddie to be so worried about the material things in your relationship, when that’s not what you care most about. He releases your hand and pours the wine you brought into the glasses in front of you.

“I wanted to,” Eddie blushes, his head tilted.

“Well,” you smirk at him. “In that case, can we eat? I’m starving.” Eddie’s mushy exterior cracks, bringing forward the ‘normal’ Eddie as he lets go of your hand to grab a fork.

“Thank God you said something first,” he shoves the fork into his plate of pasta. “I didn’t want to be un-gentleman-like.”

I pay for it more than I did back then

There's just no gettin' through

Without you

A bottle of rouge

Just me and you

1982

Just me and you

There's just no gettin' through

The grape juice blues

There’s only a ¼ of the bottle of wine left on the table, two empty bowls where the pasta once was, the candles have been burnt out, and the perfect flowers still sitting in the center. The two of you have moved to the same side of the bench, swapping stories from high school and the time before you knew one another. Eddie throws his head back in a laugh, nearly falling off the picnic bench. “There’s no way,” he choked out in between laughs. “There’s no way you broke Harrington’s nose.”

“It was an accident, but it's true!” You practically yell, swatting his arm. “Do you really think so little of me?” Eddie swings his arm over your shoulders, pulling you tight to his side. He plants a kiss on your temple, “no, I think the world of you. I just also thought more of Harrington.” Your giggles die down when you look at Eddie, who’s already looking at you.

“Hi beautiful,” he smiles, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Hi handsome,” you kiss his jawline causing Eddie to crack into another smile.

“Alright I can do this,” Eddie comments more so to himself than you. You glance up at Eddie through your lashes and give his hand a tight squeeze in yours. “Y'know I went to the store today completely clueless about what flowers I should get you?” Your eyes move from his face to the collection of flowers set in the center of the table. “I was so lost, but then Stacy—”

“Stacy?” You lean up with an eyebrow raised.

“Irrelevant,” he dismisses your teasing. “She asked me what your favorite color was. And instead of giving her a simple answer like orange, yellow, red…I went on this tangent about how much you love sunsets. This poor girl was just trying to do her job and there I was talking about you.” You press another kiss to his jaw, encouraging Eddie to keep talking. “I’m just so overwhelmed by the idea that you’re mine that I have to make sure everyone knows. I love how you always look at the sky and try to find constellations. I love how you always make us stop to watch the sunset. I love how you wear outfits I casually mention I like. I love how you let me ramble on about D&D even though you don’t have a clue what’s going on,” he smirks into your hair. “I love how you bring wine because you knew I’d mess up. I love how you don’t care if our dates are here or out somewhere.” Eddie releases a big sigh into your neck before lifting his head up to look at you. He brings his hands up to the sides of your face, brushing his ring-clad fingers over your cheeks. “I love all of that stuff because I love you.” You both don’t say anything for a moment, Eddie’s confession hanging in the air. The crickets around the trailer park crip to fill the silence, but the longer you don’t say anything the longer Eddie grows restless. “Look you don’t...Fuck. You don’t have to say anything,” Eddie releases your hand and wipes his palms on his jeans. “I just wanted you to know.”

“Eddie,” you grab his wrist and trace his veins with your finger tips. “I was so nervous coming over here tonight because I wanted to tell you that I love you too. I nearly passed out climbing the three steps into the trailer.” A smile creeps onto Eddie’s face as you continue to talk, “I don’t know how long I’ve loved you, but it feels like I always have. Like it’s always been just me and you. I love you, Eddie.” His brown eyes seem clearer than ever when he reaches up and pulls your face to his. His lips catch yours effortlessly in a messy, love-filled kiss.

“Say it again,” Eddie smiles against your mouth.

“I love y—”, you are cut off Eddie’s giddy kisses again. His hands run over your sides prompting you to straddle him on the bench. “Eddie,” you giggle as he continues to kiss all over your skin. He doesn’t leave an inch of your face and neck untouched. “Baby,” you finally get his attention with a pet name.

“Yes, my love.” He answers, his mouth plump from kisses.

“Can we go inside?”

“Fuck yes,” Eddie hops up from the bench, practically dragging you with him. You both make it to the front door before you pull away from him. Quickly you hop down the stairs grabbing your array of flowers in their vase. “My flowers,” you smile back at him. Eddie’s eyes never leave you and they practically sparkle as he watches you carefully bring them inside. You set the flowers on the counter, Eddie close behind you as he plants a kiss on your collar bone. “Thank you,” he mumbles against your skin.

“Why are you thanking me?” You ask him, turning around to face Eddie properly.

“I know you heard me say that I loved you before, but you waited until I did my whole, huh…speech?” He says as if it’s more of a question. You wrap your arms around his torso and kiss his chest. Eddie rests his chin on top of your head as you both stand in the kitchen.

“How many times did you practice it?”

“So many times,” Eddie grins into your hair. “Wayne started giving me pointers. He told me to leave out the fact that ‘I love the noises you make when we—’”

Eddie is cut off by you muffling his mouth with your hand. “You did not tell Wayne that,” your eyes are wide while you release his mouth.

“Nah I didn’t, but I would love to hear those noises now…” Eddie's hands trail down your sides as he lifts you. You wrap your legs around his waist, letting him carry you to his bedroom. “Don’t press your luck, Munson.”

“Eh,” Eddie shrugs under your arms, the smile on his lips never wavering. “I’m feeling pretty lucky today.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

I’m such a sucker for the “say it again”-trope I’ll literally punch a whole thru my wall <3 anyways, I didn’t know how to end this so my apologies, but I love Eddie :””

next in the series: as it was - s.h. (coming saturday!)

✭ masterlist ✭ requests

#eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson writing #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fics #st x harrys house #Grapejuice

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harry-styles-obsessed · 8 months

Note

Were YN is madly in love with harry and propose him. Due to some circumstances he rejected her and Later he accepts it.

YN as Harry's tour assistance

Please x

Thank you for this request!! Sorry for taking forever I’ve been on holiday, but I hope this is okay!

Trigger warnings: swearing- but near to nothing

Harry x tour assistant reader

“So what kind of thing were you thinking? America, England then Europe?” You spoke staring at Harry, moving your hands around to get your point across. You did it without even thinking, it was something that was just natural for you: talking with your hands. “I think it would be cool to add in Australia dates as well,” Harry spoke your eyes lingering on his lips as he spoke. You were utterly and completely in love with Harry. You had been his tour assistant for about five months and over those months you had gotten to know him better but also gotten to fall in love with him more and more… you had been bottling up these feelings for him for three months and gods was it becoming unbearable. His sweet lips, his green eyes, his kindness, his humour… fuck… you were obsessed with him. But who wasn’t? This is Harry fucking styles we’re talking about.

A soft hum left your lips and you nodded your head “yeah sure thing,” you wrote a few notes down to discuss with your managers later on “we could even do a wide world tour,” you spoke staring at him with a soft smile Harry’s lips curving up into to a warm smile his dimples appearing making your stomach flutter “wide world sounds good. There’s fans everywhere and you know, the cost of living isn’t exactly helping people buy concert tickets so to minimise that we can put tours all over- Japan, America, England, China, Asia in general, Australia- Everywhere else.” He spoke, this was one of the many reasons as to why you loved him so much and adored him because he spoke in such a beautiful way…. He was just so well spoken and kind and generous. “Okay yeah definitely… so like when you and one direction went on tour yeah? You guys went everywhere. So like that?” Harry nodded a permanent smile on his lips, it would be quite a big budget but you weren’t scared of it. It was going to be exciting to figure something out. Plus you knew it made Harry happy to make his fans happy so either way he was going to be happy and that made you happy. Beyond happy.

“I’ll figure this out with the managers and hopefully it’s successful, if it is I’ll be in contact with you in the next few days,” you spoke “thank you, Y/n I truly do appreciate it.” He reached his hand out towards you and you smiled expecting him to shake your hand but instead he patted you gently on the shoulder making your stomach flutter all over again. You were totally besotted with him. You stared at him with happy gentle eyes a lot of love in your own eyes Harry soon realising you hadn’t stood up “everything okay?” He asked and you cleared your throat “yes yes everything’s fine, sorry,” you chuckled nervously Harry’s green eyes searching your face but before he could’ve even said anything your feelings that you had kept to yourself for months came spurting out of your lips,

“I’m sorry Harry… this is probably really fucking abrupt but… you make me so happy. You’re such a beautiful person and.. I-… I don’t know I just like you… a lot…” Harry’s smile slowly faded, his lips parting in awe before a laugh left his lips yet he soon realised you weren’t laughing, your face was painstakingly anxious and that’s when his smile faded and he stared at you shocked. He didn’t realise you were being serious. He liked you, he did, he really liked you in fact- you were beautiful, someone he cared for and adored but he didn’t think a relationship was the right thing at that present moment especially because of the recent relationship with Olivia… Harry liked to call it a ‘fling’ between them as horrible as that sounded but it was the truth. Harry was the main role in don’t worry darling and Olivia wanted to promote her movie… what better way to promote it than sleep with her new money maker who was easily going to bring her fame and money. Harry didn’t want Olivia to target you and because his relationship with her was still pretty fresh and raw he didn’t feel like it was right to have a romantic relationship with you at that very moment.. sure things could blossom in the future but right now it just wouldn’t be fair on you and although he didn’t say it he cared about you so very much and just wanted the best for you.

“Look y/n you’re wonderful… and I care about you very much but…” he shook his head struggling to find the words. You were a sweet girl and he didn’t want to break your heart. He’d never forgive himself if he ever broke your heart “I just don’t want a relationship at the moment… you’re lovely though and beautiful you are… I’m very uh… flattered? That you think that but I’m just not ready for a relationship.” He spoke carefully and softly, he was usually straight forward but with you he was more tender because he cared so very much for you. You were more than a friend… so much more… yet he wasn’t able to express that at the very moment. Your heart had instantly dropped into your stomach your grip on your notepad tightening and you gulped harshly tears beginning to sting your eyes but you quickly forced a smile “that’s okay,” you let out a soft chuckle attempting to hide the shakiness in your voice but Harry noticed it and it broke his heart “thank you for understanding…” he smiled softly his eyes genuine and apologetic. You slowly stood up “I’ll be in touch soon Harry, have a good rest of your day,” you spoke before quickly leaving your anxiousness only growing yet you quickly forced yourself to calm down… getting rejected was absolutely one of the worst feelings ever. But you respected Harry’s honesty… you respected and were grateful for the fact that Harry was honest with you and didn’t even think to lead you on.

Harry the next few days was overthinking everything. He was thinking everything over and attempting to understand his own feelings and what he truly wanted and after two weeks of no contact from you Harry finally realised that he wanted you. He needed time to think… time to gather his thoughts and finally he had figured out that he didn’t want money, he didn’t want fame, he didn’t want anything…. All he wanted was you. Nothing else, no one else… just you.

And so Harry later on that day went out shopping where he bought chocolates, flowers and ingredients to cook a meal. After that he headed over to your place, and once arriving he knocked loudly on the door- he waited for a while, before eventually hearing the sound of the door unlocking before it was pulled open you coming into view and a warm charming smile formed on Harry’s face “oh.. harry..” you spoke confused, looking down at yourself almost insecure you wore turquoise blue shorts and a random T-shirt yet that soon was the least of your worries as you noticed was was in his hands… flowers… your heart skipped a beat and you gulped harshly “I uh… I just wanted to see whether the offer was still up.” He spoke and you furrowed your brows “the offer for what?” You asked and he smiled softly “the offer to love you.” Those words shocked you your brows raising “to love-“ “I love you y/n. I have done for ages… I just couldn’t tell you right away bec-“ he fell silent as he felt your lips smush against his, his eyes widening slightly at your burst of confidence but he soon placed the bag down keeping a hold of the flowers as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing you back gently but deeply all at once… the amount of love in the kiss being portrayed massively.

The flowers were pressed against your back, his free hand stroking against the small of your back as you melted further into him gripping onto his T-shirt tightly his lips tasting delicious… softer than anything…. Just how you had imagined. Before he eventually pulled back a small smile on his lips and he gazed down at you before lifting his hand up to caress against your cheek stroking his thumb against your skin as he searched your eyes softly and gently “you’re so beautiful y/n… let me cook us a dinner, yeah? Let me make you happy….” A soft grin tugged at your lips and you smiled nodding your head before kissing his cheek before dragging him inside the apartment Harry’s finger’s immediately finding yours, like the last piece of a puzzle finally connecting… it was beautiful.

“Also it’s been confirmed… you can do a world tour…” you spoke smirking at the man you loved Harry’s eyes widening with excitement and happiness “well then…. I suppose I better get a extra seat booked hm?” He spoke smiling and you stared at him with wide happy eyes “a seat booked for who?” You asked gently “for you obviously…. Just for you… you’re gonna be coming on tour with me…” a soft happy laugh left your lips before you wrapped your arms around him tightly and he smiled gripping onto you tightly yet gently “gods I love you..” you murmured softly, it was moving so quickly already but you couldn’t wait… it was going to be perfect… “I love you more.” He murmured pressing a kiss to your forehead “love you most…” you spoke smirking forcing a small scoff out of Harry “please, Y/n… I don’t think that’s possible..” he chuckled out gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he smiled down at you. For once Harry felt as if this was going to be the start of something wonderful…. Something that was going to blossom into something beautiful… maybe it was too soon to admit it but he knew then and there that he was in love with you. Head over heels. He was going to love you forever… he loved your soul, personality and smile… maybe finally he could spend his life with you: the one he loved more than anything.

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