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#harry imagines
bad1dimagines · 1 month
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gotta make sure u have the dslr to document
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justlemmeadoreyou · 14 days
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in sickness and in health
Summary: Harry takes care of y/n while she's sick.
Words: 1,000+
Warnings: Mostly fluff!
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Y/N groaned as she slowly blinked her eyes open, her head pounding and her throat feeling raw and scratchy. She reached for the box of tissues on her nightstand, wincing at the movement. As she blew her nose, the bedroom door creaked open.
"Morning, love," came Harry's soft voice. He padded in, a tray laden with toast, orange juice, and a steaming mug of tea balanced carefully in his hands. "Brought you some breakfast."
"Harry..." Y/N croaked out, her voice little more than a whisper. "You didn't have to do that."
He shook his head, setting the tray down on the nightstand. "Of course I did. You're sick as a dog, babe." Harry perched on the edge of the bed, his hand coming up to brush her sweat-damp hair back from her forehead. "Looks like that nasty flu is really doing a number on you."
Y/N managed a weak smile, nuzzling into his touch. "I feel horrible."
"I know, sweetheart." Harry's thumb stroked her flushed cheek tenderly. "But I'm going to take care of you, okay? We'll get you feeling better in no time."
Leaning down, he pressed a lingering kiss to her clammy forehead before reaching for the mug of tea. "Here, drink some of this. The honey should help soothe your throat."
Y/N took a careful sip, the warm liquid coating her raw throat. She sighed in relief. "That's nice. Thank you, Haz."
"Of course, my love." Harry picked up a piece of dry toast from the tray. "Think you can manage a few bites? You need to keep your strength up."
Obediently, Y/N nibbled on the toast as Harry fussed over plumping up her pillows and layering an extra blanket over her shivering form. He clucked his tongue sympathetically at her pale, clammy appearance.
"I've got some cold medicine for you to take too. That should help with the aches and chills."
True to his word, Harry retrieved a dose of flu medication, holding it out along with a glass of cool water. Y/N swallowed it down gratefully.
"Such a good girl," Harry praised, stroking her hair again. "Now, I want you to try and get some more rest, okay? I'll be just down the hall if you need anything at all."
Y/N caught his hand as he made to stand. "Wait... Could you stay with me for a bit?"
Harry's eyes softened. "Of course, darling. Budge over." 
He slid under the covers, gathering Y/N's shivering form into his arms. She burrowed against his chest, breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne and letting it soothe her frazzled senses.
Harry pressed a kiss to her hair, rubbing her back soothingly. "Just relax and rest up, okay? I'm right here."
Y/N nodded, allowing her eyes to drift shut. She felt so safe and cared for wrapped in Harry's embrace. Despite feeling utterly miserable from her illness, having him there to look after her made it so much better.
Several hours later, she awoke feeling marginally less feverish - though her head was still pounding. Harry stirred beside her, ever attentive.
"Hey there, sleeping beauty," he murmured. "How are you feeling?"
Y/N sniffled pitifully. "A little better, I think. But my head is killing me."
"Hang on, let me get you a cool cloth for your forehead." In a flash, Harry was out of bed and heading for the en-suite bathroom.
He returned with a damp washcloth, gently draping it over Y/N's feverish brow. She sighed in relief at the delicious coolness against her pounding head.
"Thank you, baby. That feels heavenly."
Harry smiled, tenderly brushing her hair back. "I love taking care of my best girl. Are you hungry at all? I could whip up some chicken soup."
At the thought of food, Y/N's stomach roiled queasily. "Maybe just some more tea and dry toast for now?"
"You got it." Harry leaned in, dropping a featherlight kiss on her chapped lips. "I'll be right back with your tea, sweet thing."
True to his word, Harry returned a few minutes later with a fresh mug of piping hot tea and a couple pieces of dry buttered toast. He helped Y/N sit up against the mountain of pillows before passing her the mug.
"Careful, it's hot," he cautioned unnecessarily.
Y/N rolled her eyes fondly. "Yes, Dad."
Harry chuckled, taking a seat next to her on the bed and offering her a piece of toast. As she picked at the bread, he pulled her feet into his lap, gently massaging the soles.
"Mmm," Y/N hummed in appreciation. "You're too good to me."
"Nonsense. I'm just being a good boyfriend and taking care of my girl when she needs me." Harry winked playfully. "Afterall, I'll need you to return the favor when I inevitably catch this flu from you."
Y/N laughed weakly. "Deal."
For the rest of the day, Harry fussed over Y/N - keeping her hydrated, fetching her books and magazines to read, and just sitting by her side with his arms wrapped securely around her. She couldn't have asked for a better nurse.
As evening fell, Harry brought Y/N a fresh mug of hot tea, laced with honey and lemon. "Here, drink up. Should help that scratchy throat of yours."
"You're too good to me," Y/N said again, cradling the mug gratefully.
Harry shook his head seriously. "Never. You deserve the world, my love." He leaned in, kissing her forehead tenderly. "I'm just trying to give it to you."
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
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unabashegirl · 3 months
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Meeting her || Part II
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Author's note: as promised here is the second part of this three part series. I am sorry it took longer to post, but I wanted por my Patreon subscriber have exclusive access to it. I hope you like it!
Golden boy
Meeting her || Part 1
word count: 3.4K
DISCLAIMER: The following chapter contains mentions of sex. Read at your own discration
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Harry's kiss carried an intensity that threatened to sweep her off her feet. His hands firmly anchored on her hips to prevent any faltering. Initially resistant, Y/N found herself yielding to the wave of desire that surged between them, her conscience overruled and momentarily silenced.
Her hands, once resolute in maintaining distance, betrayed her surrender as they instinctively rose to explore the terrain beneath his shirt. The sculpted contours of his body, a testament to his disciplined routine at the club, hinted at strength and lean athleticism.
With an achingly deliberate pace, Harry's hands ventured beneath her coveralls, the contrast of her soft skin against his fingertips intensifying his desire. As he drew closer, the contours of their bodies collided, and she felt the undeniable evidence of his arousal against her abdomen. Normally reserved about such matters, the unveiling of his physique encouraged her, prompting her to guide them toward the couch.
Harry positioned himself between her legs, a commanding presence as he pinned her beneath him. His skilled hands deftly undid the front of her overalls, revealing the gentle curvature of her breasts. A brief moment of admiration passed as Harry absorbed the sight before him, his intense gaze leaving Y/N feeling both exposed and nervous.
Aware of her blush, Harry, without warning, leaned down and took her right breast into his mouth. Y/N watched, her fingers entwining with the strands of his hair, as the soft, whispered moans escaped her lips, filling the room with an intimate symphony of desire.
"Let me see those eyes," he murmured to her, his words accompanied by the rustle of his shirt sliding off his body. The urgency in Harry's actions betrayed a sense of haste, as if he needed to fast-track through the moment. It wasn't just for his own gratification; it was as if he feared awakening, as if this reality were too surreal and fragile to withstand the scrutiny of a waking dream. “There they are”.
Y/N helped him take off her overalls off her body and shyly watched him take off his joggers and boxers. She had lovers before, but never like Harry. They had been painters or artist just like her. She had never been with an athlete. His body seemed to be sculpted. He barely had fat on him. Y/N felt self-conscious as she sat on her couch only wearing a white thong and mid length socks.
Consumed by desire, he sought her by the waist, swiftly repositioning them until he lay on his back. On the opposite side of the couch, Y/N perched, an air of nervousness clinging to her. His intense gaze seemed to sear through her skin, leaving an indelible mark on the charged atmosphere between them.
“Don’t be shy, lovie” He took her hand and helped her to take off the rest of her clothes. Y/N straddled him, placing one of each of her legs on either side of him. She felt the heat that his skin emanated without even having to touch him.
"I-I've never been on top," Y/N confessed, her hips intentionally held aloft, avoiding the union with his. Submissive by nature, she had always yielded to the desires of others, a perpetual people pleaser. Her own wishes consistently took a back seat.
Harry found himself momentarily speechless. He had assumed artists, particularly of her caliber, were unafraid of embracing their sexuality. He had encountered many who were forthright in sharing their intimate experiences. Y/N, however, stood as an exception. Her admission of inexperience fueled his desire for her, creating a magnetic pull that seemed to intensify in the wake of her vulnerability.
They became one. She watched how he disappeared into her as their hips slammed against one another. Harry dig his fingers into her hips as he helped her find a rhythm that they both enjoyed.
“Teach me how to make you feel good.” Harry grunted. His words had enough power to send her shockwaves through her lower abdomen. She felt intoxicated and dazed as he continued to have his way with her.
“Kiss me” She demanded, so Harry reached up to the back of her neck as his hips followed her rhythm and lowered her head enough for their lips to touch and for her to moan into his mouth.
“Christ” He cried out from the sensation, pulling down her hips harder. Harry knew that he would leave bruises on her hips, but her moaning, the soft sounds she made or the way that her round breast bounced by his face, teasing and enticing him was all too much for him.
They were covered on each other’s sweat by the time that Harry finally released himself inside of her. His sight faded to black, and he could only see specks of white until his sight returned seconds later. Harry reaching his orgasm didn’t stop Y/N from continue working her thighs muscles.
Harry watched her as she continued to use him. Her chest and cheeks were flushed, and her hair was sticking to her forehead, but to Harry she looked like a Goddess. It didn’t take long for her to had arch her hips, her legs to go wobbly and for her to join Harry in bliss.
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As the night deepened, Y/N stirred from her slumber, finding herself awake before Harry. The lateness of the hour was evident in the silence that enveloped them, a stark contrast to the usual symphony of city sounds. Her body rested atop his, a connection forged in the shared intimacy of the night.
With utmost care, Y/N gingerly lifted her body from his, each movement calculated to avoid disrupting his peaceful sleep. The room held the remnants of their shared moments — a delicate interplay of shadows and moonlight accentuating the contours of their entwined figures. Y/N allowed her gaze to linger on the tranquil sight of Harry, his features softened by the hushed glow of the room. In this quiet moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the echoes of their shared vulnerability in the intimate hours they had spent together.
Navigating her apartment with careful steps, Y/N made her way towards the bedroom in search of a robe or some clothing. The silence within her living space mirrored the weight of the guilt settling on her shoulders. As she locked herself in the bathroom, the walls seemed to close in around her, amplifying the echoes of her inner turmoil.
Inside the confined space, anxiety surged through her, transforming the room into a cavern of self-reflection. The magnitude of disbelief struck her; she couldn't fathom how they had ended up entangled in the depths of intimacy. Each breath felt heavy, carrying the weight of unexpected choices made in the heat of the moment. Guilt overshadowed the shared passion, leaving her to grapple with the consequences of a night that had taken an unexpected turn.
While Y/N and Emma weren't particularly close, Y/N couldn't shake the conviction that, regardless of their differences, Emma didn't deserve to be cheated on. Wrapping her body in a robe, Y/N gathered her thoughts before rejoining the living room. There, Harry sat on the couch, shirtless, occupied with tying his sneakers. The air held a palpable tension, a silent acknowledgment of choices made and the complexities that now enveloped their connection.
A surge of anxiety morphed into a fiery anger within her. The disbelief was overwhelming; he had been preparing to depart without uttering a single word to her. The weight of naivety and a tinge of foolishness settled in. He, it seemed, wasn't any different from the other men she had encountered—a bitter revelation that stung with a sense of betrayal. The emotions collided within her, creating a storm of frustration, disappointment, and a profound sense of disillusionment.
"So, this is all I am to you? Just a quick fuck, huh?" Her laughter dripped with sarcasm, cutting through the air to announce her presence in the room.
"You locked yourself in the bathroom. I thought you didn't want me here anymore," he responded, confusion clouding his features. The weight of guilt bore down on Harry, not only for betraying Emma but also for involving Y/N in the tangled web of their choices. The room crackled with tension.
"I'm not a bad person, Harry," she spoke with remorse, her voice choked with emotion. "But what we just did makes me one." Y/N fought back tears, the weight of guilt pressing down on her. "This can't happen again," she asserted, tears streaming down her face as she sought to externalize the overwhelming remorse within her. "It's not fair to any of us.”
"This isn't on you, Y/N," he explained, his words laced with a mix of regret and self-reflection. "I'm her boyfriend. I was the one who was supposed to be loyal to her." His admission hung in the air, emphasizing the role he played in the choices that led them to this point. “I understand if you never want to see me again.”
As Harry made his way toward the front door of her apartment, Y/N felt compelled to step closer, as if she could somehow halt the inevitable. However, her feet remained rooted, and her voice seemed to elude her. As he slightly opened the door, he turned to look at her.
"I just want you to know that I don't regret anything," he uttered, his words hanging in the air as he shut the door behind him. The finality of the action left Y/N standing alone in the room, grappling with the weight of those parting words and the aftermath of a night that had irreversibly altered the dynamics between them.
Night after night, Y/N found herself tossing and turning in the clutches of restlessness. The thought of reaching out to him tugged at the edges of her consciousness, yet every attempt to formulate the right words felt elusive. In those fleeting moments when she mustered the courage, a wave of self-doubt would wash over her, causing her to retreat once more. The cycle persisted for almost two weeks and her insomnia only made her crankier.
Finally, Y/N redirected her energy toward a new project. Engaging in sculpting for her latest project, she found herself immersed in the creative process, fueled by a restless determination. With minimal sleep, the clock striking three in the morning, she embarked on this new venture.
It was only a few hours later, after her coffee had cooled, and she went to the kitchen to warm it up, that she noticed she was sculpting a human. She began with the feet and had just started on the ankles.
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As Y/N continued her sculpting journey, she found herself captivated by the evolving form taking shape beneath her skilled hands. The subtle contours of the feet transitioned seamlessly into the delicate curves of the ankles. The tactile connection with the clay became a meditative dance, each knead and mold bringing the human figure to life.
Lost in the creative process, she explored the distinctions of expression and emotion, her fingers working with an intuitive grace. The cold coffee on the table went unnoticed as she delved into the intricacies of her art.
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A few days later, Y/N joined her father and brother for brunch. They had intentionally passed through Manchester to check up on her and insisted on a get-together.
"I love you, but you look terrible," her brother remarked as she took a seat in front of them. Y/N shrugged at her older brother and nonchalantly put her sunglasses back on, masking the evidence of turmoil beneath her eyes.
"Are you getting enough sleep?" Phillip, her father, inquired with concern for his youngest and only daughter. "You could always move back in with your mother and me if this becomes too much for you, honey." He reached for her hand, already settled on the table, and gently caressed the top.
Y/N and her brother, Archie, burst into laughter, leaving their father bewildered as he tried to grasp what was so amusing.
"Dad, she'd rather die than move in with you and mum," Archie revealed, a mischievous grin playing on his face. "I would too. You guys still love each other way too much. It's too much PDA for my taste."
"I thought you both would appreciate that we haven't ended up in divorce like most couples on earth," Phillip debated, a playful tone in his voice. "Ungrateful little fucks," he added, eliciting laughter from all three of them.
"How's Mum? Why didn't she come up with you?"
"You know how she is. She hates leaving the house and worries too much when we're away," Phillip explained. "How was the art show?"
"It went very smoothly. Most of the pieces were sold," she replied. "I think by the end of the year, I might be able to open the first permanent gallery."
"I still don't understand why you wouldn't let me fund it. So, you can dedicate yourself to just painting and not worry about down payments." Her family was very comfortable; Phillip held a high position in a large investment company. Y/N shook her head and put down her menu.
"You still don't get it, Dad. I need to do it on my own. I want to achieve it for my own selfish reasons."
"Fine, fine," he raised his hands, "just trying to help."
"I understand, and thank you," she smiled. "How about you, Archie? How's working for Dad? Is he everything you wished for?"
"He's the worst," Archie huffed just as the waitress approached them to take their orders. "But honestly, I've enjoyed it."
"I'm so happy that both of you are here. I really needed it," Y/N revealed. She had been going crazy in the apartment, and since she didn't have many friends, she hadn't gone out much.
"What are you working on currently?" Phillip asked her, genuinely curious about her new piece.
"A sculpture," she nervously shared.
"I would love to go see it," Phillip added.
"It's not going as I hoped for—" But before she could continue, making up excuses to keep her dad and brother out of her house, she was interrupted by none other than Emma. Surprisingly, it was the first time she was genuinely happy to see her.
"Y/N! I didn't know you came to places like this." Y/N nodded and awkwardly waved but remained quiet, anticipating Emma's usual backhanded compliments. "I haven't seen you in quite a long time. You've been distant."
"This is my dad, Phillip, and my brother, Archie. This is Emma," Y/N introduced them without forgetting her manners. "She's an old friend from college," she added.
Archie and Phillip greeted her with polite smiles.
"What are you doing later?" Emma asked. "I was just going to pick up some food before heading to the stadium to see Harry play. Are you guys fans of Manchester?" Y/N's body instantly went rigid at the mention of his name.
"Fuck yeah!" Archie enthusiastically jumped at the opportunity. "I mean—we would love to," he corrected himself after clearing his throat. Phillip turned to Y/N and shrugged with a smile. She wanted to scream and stop them from going. She didn't want to be dragged along. Y/N needed an excuse to miss the game.
"We don't have further plans. I think it could be fun," Emma smiled, feeling accomplished to have convinced them. She knew who Phillip was and how much he was worth. He was a big fish, and she loved the attention. Emma just had to win over Y/N's father. She wanted to be close to her family, just for the perks. "Honey?"
"Y-yeah," Y/N agreed, even though she felt like crying and sensed her heart was about to explode. What was she going to say to Harry? Would she even talk to him? Would Emma notice?
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They were in box seats, which surprised Y/N. Emma had never invited her to sit in the box; they usually sat with the rest of the crowd. After all, not many people knew who Emma was or could easily recognize her.
The weather was great when the match started. As usual, Harry was in the initial team. Y/N noticed that he had allowed his hair to grow longer than usual, and he had a slight mustache. Despite the rougher appearance, she still considered him the most gorgeous man she had come across. The top of his hair was tied with a hair tie, causing a slight pang of jealousy, wondering if it was Emma's.
After half-time, the game took a turn for the worse, and the weather didn't help. It started pouring rain and became windy, but the game wasn't postponed. Something had set off the players from the other team, and yellow cards started getting pulled out.
Manchester was losing, and it felt like the team couldn't advance without getting pushed or kicked to the floor. It wasn't until the last twenty minutes of the match that a penalty shot was called after a player committed a foul on Harry.
"Oh god," Y/N whispered as she watched the players stand back and the referee place the football on the floor for Harry to kick.
"Since when do you like football?" Archie asked, noticing his sister's nervousness.
"I don't know," Y/N shrugged. "It's entertaining," she brushed him off, carefully watching Harry talk to the captain of the team while covering his mouth.
"If he misses, he is going to be hated for quite a few months," Archie said to Emma, who stood on the other side of him.
"That's his problem," Emma brushed off, showing a lack of concern. "He signed up to be a football player, not me." Y/N couldn't believe the bitterness of her statement. Harry was her boyfriend, and the least she could do was stand beside him.
The referee's whistle interrupted her thoughts, and seconds later, Harry kicked the ball with the arch of his left foot.
He missed.
The goalkeeper caught it.
Instantly, the crowd went mad, booing at Harry. Y/N felt helpless, wanting to scream for them to stop. She could see the disappointment on his face as he wiped the rain off his face while his team patted his back in solidarity.
"Oh well! They lost," Emma added. "I'm sorry I brought you to his worst game ever," she said to Phillip. Y/N rolled her eyes as she looked at Harry continue to play for the remaining match. "Would you like to meet him?"
"I have to get back to the studio," Y/N excused herself. "But if you two want to stay, that's fine."
"No, honey. We came to see you and spend time with you," Phillip said for both of them. "I appreciate your generosity, Emma. However, we want to spend time with Y/N. We leave tomorrow morning, and we still have a few things planned with her."
"That's fine," Emma coldly responded and looked back at the match. Y/N could tell that it had bothered her.
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After the game, they ventured out for some shopping. Y/N confessed to her father that she didn't actually have to go to the studio but preferred spending time with him instead of hanging out with wet and sweaty men. Phillip laughed warmly, embracing her. He made sure to stock her fridge and handed her extra money for anything she might want or need.
Following the shopping spree, they enjoyed dinner at a fancy restaurant near their hotel. A driver later took Y/N back to her apartment after heartfelt goodbyes and hugs.
"I love you. Send me a picture of that sculpture. I'm sure it's great," were Phillip's parting words as he let go of her.
Returning alone to her apartment felt strange. Y/N had shared an incredible time with her family, making the solitude of her apartment even more palpable. Nevertheless, that didn't deter her from delving back into sculpting until two in the morning.
After a skincare routine, a bath, and a late-night snack at three in the morning, Y/N found herself tucked into bed. She closed her eyes, allowing the silence around her to usher her into a deep slumber. However, her peaceful state was abruptly disrupted by three knocks on her door. After much hesitation and grabbing the box cutter she used for opening mailed packages, she finally opened the door.
"I had to bribe your doorman to let me in with tickets," was the first thing out of his mouth.
Do you think Emma will find out and how?
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harrieatthemet · 3 months
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Birthday
In which Harry has to have the last word... and a better present.
"There's my girl," he sings, a wide smile expeditiously appearing on his face, "my birthday girl."
Her smile is shy, which is ironic considering her outfit is lathered so dramatically in bright colors it could singlehandedly blind anyone within a 5 mile radius. Nonetheless though she skips over to Harry, wrapping her arms around his leg best she can.
Despite the animosity between the two of you and the not-so-subtle hard feelings, there's no fighting the smirk that creeps up on you when she squeals in amusement. Harry's got her in a cradle now, swinging her back and forth before sitting her on his hip. Their bond is so special and he's so effortlessly good with her. You almost forget how you were fighting the urge to throw a handful of plastic spoons at him under a minute ago.
"Can't believe you're turning fifty seven," he teases, "you're a little old lady!"
"M'turning five," she giggles, "still a baby!"
"What!" his dramatized gasp pulls a belly laugh right out of her, "mumma, is this th'tallest baby you've ever seen?!"
Your nod in agreement is emphatic as you pair it with a pretend shocked gasp, which only makes her laugh harder. She's squealing once Harry starts tickling under her chin; writhing sporadically in her spot on his hip as she's got nowhere to run to seek refuge. But eventually he relinquishes his grip after she begs for mercy, setting her back down on the floor before sending her off to check if any guests had began to trickle in.
On the counter he's placed two bags; both generously filled and near overflowing. His grip was so tight on the handles earlier he may have even lost feeling in his knuckles halfway on the walk to the front of the house.
"Did you get the candles?"
Now he's definitely lost feeling in his knuckles but not from carrying cheap plastic, but more-so because he's barely been 10 minutes in the house and you're already needling him.
"Candles?" his words come out in an annoyed exhale, "Y'never asked me about candles, (Y/N). If y'asked, I would've got them."
If he wasn't so well accustomed to the sound of it, he'd almost miss your exasperated groan as he started unpacking the shopping bags onto the kitchen counter.
It's obvious you're in a mood. He can tell by the tenseness in your stature and how frenetic you're moving around the kitchen island. Had you greeted him with a little more cordiality, he'd have complimented your over-achieving decoration execution. The house, inside and out, really looked beautiful.
"I did," you huff before undoing a package of paper napkins, "I asked you twice. Don't do that, Harry."
"Do what?"
"Berate me," you snap, "or tell me I didn't do something I know I did."
He throws his head back and lets out a long breath, "Y'don't even talk t'me on a good day, and now you're telling me y'asked me for candles? Like I'd forget candles for m'daughters birthday."
"Wouldn't be the first time you forgot something important."
"Oh fuck you f'that, really," you've managed to get him riled up in record time - a whopping 3 and a half minutes, "bloody unbelievable, you are, y'know?"
"Oh I am? Me - unbelievable?"
"I walk in and immediately it's th'bitching and the-"
Honestly he could drag on and on if time permitted. Once he gets going he finds it hard to bring it to a full stop. And usually, these arguments tend to get drawn out for that exact reason. He's promptly interrupted though when he hears a soft clicking of shoes and a familiar little voice roam in from the kitchen archway.
There's no need for him to turn around to see who it is. And she knows better by now than to say anything. Since the fighting initially became a household staple she's gotten pretty skilled in hallway loitering and incognito eavesdropping. How much she's already heard is unclear, but he's gonna table the conversation for now and act like it never happened. So are you.
"My friends are here!"
Sometimes it feels kind of like having an entirely separate identity. You often find yourself wondering if Harry ever feels the same way. When angel baby is around, it's kind of like switching off a light or getting caught doing something you shouldn't be. Because when she spawns in the room mid-argument, the energy shifts and you find yourself smiling a little too hard and over-compensating a bit too much.
And when she leaves, it's right back to the regular scheduled programming. You don't remember exactly when the turning point was that resulted in this; neither of you being able to stomach looking at the other, constantly arguing, going jab for jab, saying the worst thing that comes to mind out of spite or with the goal of tearing each other down.
"Not done talking about this," it's just like Harry to try and have the last word as he follows angel baby out of the room, "can y'table it for her birthday? Can y'manage that?"
It was an intentionally halfway-out-of-the-room delivered line, largely so you'd have no time to quip back at him with a snide comment or off-color remark. Because as soon as you follow him out to say something in rebuttal, you're stepping into an influx of people holding different-sized gifts in the middle of the front entrance.
It's almost like he's challenging you. Of course you can table it.
At least, you thought you could table it.
It's so irritating how easy it is for him to compartmentalize. It doesn't phase him at all that you were at each other's throats earlier. At least that's how it comes across in the way he seamlessly works the room; all cool and convivial with the inviting hugs and enthusiastic small talk. More likely than not, he's carved out 5 minutes for each guest tenfold. Whether it's an act or not, it really gets under your skin.
"Here petal," Harry encourages eagerly, handing an oversized professionally wrapped gift, "s'from me."
She's sat in an awkwardly shaped circle alongside a couple friends from school, giggling as Harry places the box in front of her. Her eyes light up merely at the size of it. The box itself is almost as tall as she is, and what 5 year old wouldn't gawk at a lavish gift that towers over them when sitting down. It was arguably the most predictable move right out of the 'separated parents' playbook.
"Had to get the biggest one, right?"
Beside you he stands, phone up to record as he watches angel baby rip the once perfect wrapping paper completely to pieces. For a second you think he doesn't hear you. In fact, he doesn't even bat an eye at the remark you just made beneath your breath.
"S'a birthday gift... fo' her birthday," and he says it through gritted teeth and a pompous smile, "but g'on and make it about you, if you'd like."
"Think you've got that bit covered," you nod slowly in rhetoric in attempt to depict this conversation as passive, "you know, trying to outdo me with a splashy gift and all."
Unbeknownst to you, angel baby's eyes are training your lips with every word that falls from them. Stood in a box in front of her is the set outdoor doll house she'd been pining for as of late. And she doesn't seem to care. She pays no attention to it at all, even when the chorus of ooing and ahhing erupts from her intimate circle of friends and their parents. The facade of casual conversation between you and Harry has completely vacated, it's obvious in how the bickering has become more hushed and the vein on Harry's forehead begun peeking out.
You're fighting on her birthday and she's noticed. The topic that's gotten you both so hot is a mystery to her, but that doesn't keep her from trying to conjure up an answer. Even right now she's thinking about it, as Anne places a beautifully decorated sheet cake down in front of her at the patio table. The number 5 stands firmly in the middle, romantically adorned by sporadically placed individual flames dancing all around it as everyone sings happy birthday off key.
"Ok lovie," Harry cheers, "g'head 'n make a big wish!"
Both of her hands press flatly on the table, propping her up a good amount as she teeters on her chair so that she's appropriately hovering over the cake. Leaning in to grab a photo, she smiles sweetly before closing her eyes. If she's gonna make a birthday wish, she wants it to be good. She wants it to actually come true.
"I wish," and she pauses to adjust the flower crown that's lopsided on her head, "that mommy and daddy didn't hate each other."
When the words spill from her lips before she leans in to blow out her candles, your complexion goes ghost-white. And Harry thinks he might be sick.
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mulledcherrywine · 9 months
Text
Summer in Italy - IG Concept
summary: y/n is a florist from London, with a very small following and spends a summer in Italy with harry 🤭
this is my first ig concept so any feedback/kind words is vv appreciated 🫶🫶
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23,967 likes
harryflorals Harry and y/n in Italy earlier today!
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harrystan100 OH ?
harrysleftshoe the way i called this two weeks ago when they were first spotted-
watermelonsugarpaper she’s too cool for him
adoreyouuuharry do y’all just hate this man or what?
harryedwards00 why r u acting like yk her
harrystan88 fr !!
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yourinstagram brb i’m cancelling my flight home
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yourbestfriend Y/NNNN. COME HOME. I MISS U.
yourinstagram i miss u too ma cherie :,)
mitchrowland glad to see my diagram struck a chord with you.
yourinstagram ur just so wise, mitchell
harrystyles you make it so much sunnier here
harrystyles i love youuuuuu
yourinstagram i love you moreeeee
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harrystyles Venice. 2023.
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paulithepsm 💜
harrysscherries FUCK
harrystan1001 ☠️☠️
medicineharry so real
harry_lambert my favourite barbie and ken dolls to dress up ✨💗🌈
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10,439 likes
harryflorals More of Harry and Y/n in Italy last night!
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harrystannn i can’t do this today harryflorals
dontyoucallhimbaby i love them idc
watermelonhighhh right ? ppl are so negative
harrysshousee oh he’s marrying her 100%
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Text
🎄Gucciforasushirestaurant's Kinkmas🎄
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Smut 🔥| Fluff 💕| Angst🥺 | Dark Themes 🖤|🤓 author favorite | 🌟fan favorite
Cockwarming 🔥💕
Voyeurism  🔥🤓  
❄️Kinkmas Blurbs❄️
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twostepstyless · 3 months
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This is Harry on holiday with his Mrs. It’s the first big trip you guys have went on together that’s just dedicated to spending days wandering round being tourists with no time constraints. Exploring areas off the beaten track with your hands always loosely intertwined. This one photo is from after dinner one night, you exit the restaurant with Harry in front of you as you stop to take a quick photo of Harry’s back wandering round the almost deserted street given the late hour and almost every other place has pulled their shutters down for the night. Harry doesn’t take too many steps away from you though, when he realises the hand he’s been so used to have holding yours is left empty when he’s reaching back towards you. Quickly turning round he sees you with your phone up and quickly poses for you before his hand is back out reaching for yours. Handing him your phone to quickly put away in his bag you’re latching back onto his hand with a giggle before lazily strolling back to where you’re staying on this portion of your trip, excited for another day of holiday bliss tomorrow.
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thereceptioniststyles · 2 months
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Wandering Hands
We walked into Sonny's diner together, our hands intertwined. My heart was racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness, as I couldn't believe that this moment was finally happening. It was like a dream come true, yet at the same time, it felt almost too good to be true.
As we entered the cozy diner, everything suddenly became real and hit me like a jolt. The smell of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee filled the air, tempting my senses. Our tired waitress greeted us with a weak smile before leading us to a small, secluded booth in the corner.
As we settled into our seats, the comforting warmth of the diner enveloped me like a hug. Harry's deep green eyes bore into mine, his concern noticeable. He could sense my nerves and reached across the table to take my hand in his, providing me with a sense of comfort and support.
I took a deep breath and tried to play it cool, but deep down I couldn't shake off the guilt of breaking up with Beck just to be sitting here at this table with Harry. Was I making the right decision?
"I actually dumped my boyfriend," I finally confessed, unable to keep it inside any longer. Harry's eyebrows furrowed in surprise as he listened intently.
"That's tough," he sympathized, shaking his head slightly as his curly hair fell out of place. "But listen, come over to my place. I have a collection of records and we can just chill if you're into that sort of thing."
Part of me just wanted to crawl into bed and forget about everything, but I had broken up with Beck for Harry so I should at least try to enjoy it, right? And who knows, maybe spending time with him would help me forget about my worries.
"Yeah," I reluctantly agreed. "I think that would be nice. Just to get my mind off things for a bit." Harry nodded in understanding, his hand still holding mine.
Our conversation was interrupted by the waitress taking our order. As Harry quickly scanned through the menu, his emerald eyes flickering back and forth between options, I couldn't help but watch him intently. He settled on pancakes with bacon and without even looking, I ordered the same. Nothing sounded more comforting than a stack of warm, fluffy pancakes.
When our food arrived, it was even better than I could have imagined. The pancakes were perfectly golden brown and the bacon was crispy - a perfect combination of sweet and savory. Despite my protests, Harry insisted on paying for both of us before we left the diner in his SUV.
As we drove the short distance to his apartment, we made small talk but my mind couldn't help but wander to what his place would look like. I had always been curious about where he lived and now I was finally going to see it. My heart skipped a beat as we pulled up to a charming brick building with a "Welcome Home" sign hanging above the door.
We walked into the building and took the stairs up to Harry's apartment on the second floor. As he unlocked the door and let me in, I couldn't help but take in every detail of the space. It was filled with an eclectic mix of records and vintage decor, giving it a cozy yet cool vibe.
I couldn't stifle a smile as Harry showed me around, proud of the space he had created for himself. We settled in on his couch to listen to some music, surrounded by shelves stacked with old records from various artists.
As the evening went on, we talked and laughed while listening to some of our favorite songs. The initial nervousness had faded away and being with Harry felt so natural and effortless. I couldn't believe how much fun I was having just chilling at his apartment.
Harry turned to me, his green eyes curious and inquisitive. "You never told me why you broke up with your boyfriend," he said, his voice laced with concern as he walked in from the kitchen with a glass of water. I stood up to meet his eyes.
I hesitated, unsure if I should reveal the truth. But something about Harry's sincerity and genuine interest pushed me to open up. "The truth is, I felt guilty for dating someone else if I was falling for you," I admitted, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
His brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean, falling for me?"
I took a deep breath. "I don't know. I-it didn't feel right to continue dating someone else. But it's not serious."
He leaned in closer, his cologne filling my senses and making me feel dizzy. "Do you want it to be serious between us?" he asked, his gaze intense.
I nodded eagerly, unable to find the words to express how much I wanted him.
Silence filled the room as we both stood there, our hearts racing with unspoken desire. The soft crackling of the vinyl record added to the tension in the air.
Harry's hand reached out, gently tracing the curve of my cheek with his fingertips. My eyes fluttered shut at his touch. My body responded with a thrill of excitement. I pressed a kiss to his collarbone, savoring the feeling of his warm skin against my lips.
I looked up and our gazes locked, the tension between us thick and heavy. Harry's body pressed against mine, his lips hovering just millimeters away from mine as he traced a line of fire down my neck with his tongue. My breath hitched as desire pulsed through me, our chemistry igniting into a passionate embrace.
My body ignited with desire, my hands gripping his neck as I passionately devoured his lips, completely consumed by the intoxicating sensation of our mouths locked together.
Our bodies entwined in a frenzy of desire, our heavy breaths mixing with the sound of our lips smacking and tongues tangling. Harry's hands gripped me firmly, exploring every inch of my body with insatiable hunger. His touch ignited a fire within me, making me crave more and more of him.
I responded with a thirst, my fingers digging into his flesh as I pressed myself against his body. Our kisses were a fierce battle of desire, igniting a fiery inferno within us both.
Without pause, Harry sat and hoisted me onto his lap, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as we devoured each other's mouths. Our bodies moved in perfect unison, our hearts pounding wildly in sync with our primal desires.
Harry's hands, rough and calloused, gently grasp the strands of my hair as he leans in closer. The dim light catches the edges of his fingers, casting a glimmer on his skin.
The minutes dragged on like an eternity as Harry's breaths grew ragged and deep. As he finally pulled away, our eyes locked in a heated gaze that sent shivers down my spine. I knew then, without a doubt, that this was only the start of something wild and uncontrollable. My mind raced with conflicting emotions, unsure if it was sheer bliss or impending chaos. But for now, I chose to embrace the unknown and savor every moment of this intense journey.
The night came to a sudden end after our shared kisses, and as we exchanged bittersweet goodbyes, my heart swelled with conflicting emotions. Grateful for the unexpected turn of events, but also filled with a deep sadness at the thought of leaving Harry's side. With every fiber of my being, I wanted to stay in his protective embrace forever. But practicality dictated otherwise - he had work in the morning and I didn't want to be a burden. As I called for an uber, we stood in his kitchen, our bodies tense with unspoken feelings. In a moment of pure vulnerability, Harry pulled me into his arms and planted a tender kiss on my forehead. Little did I know, this one act would mark the beginning of a tumultuous and intoxicating journey ahead.
All Parts
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dracowars · 1 year
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Hi can I request a Harry Potter x Gryffindor reader where they’re actually the best of friends and she has liked him for years but she lost hope because it’s like he never sees her y’know? so when Harry starts to pursue Cho ( or someone else it’s up to you) , she decided that it’s time for her to move on but when Harry saw her getting close to someone else he just got really jealous and confess that he actually like her too, he just doesn’t want to ruin their friendship if it doesn’t work out? thanks!
i would | harry potter
pairing: harry x gryffindor!reader, harry x cho, neville x reader (platonic)
word count: 1,8k
summary: where harry is in love with y/n but doesn't want to destroy their friendship
a/n: all of my exams are finally over and i already know some of the results (i passed!!) i can't wait to get back into writing, hope you enjoy what i came up with here <3
warnings: angst, cursing
universe: harry potter
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A sharp pain shoots through your heart at the words you just heard, but you immediately cover it up by forcing a smile onto your lips. But the way Harry looks at her in that moment, the way he admires her while she has the happiest expression on her face, makes it really difficult for you to pull yourself together.
Harry and you have been best friends ever since your first year in Hogwarts. You were always by each other's side, never leaving the other alone, supporting each other whenever you could. But being this close over several years turned your feelings into something that you should definitely not feel towards your supposedly best friend. You never wanted to admit it but you had to accept the truth. That is, that you are terribly in love with Harry Potter.
And Harry Potter is terribly in love with Cho Chang, the girl he just asked out on a date right in front of you.
This is his moment and you should not be the one to destroy it, especially not because you have some unaddressed and hidden feelings for your best friend. But it takes all of your strength to not intervene in their conversation, trying to support your friend by staying back.
You knew that this moment would come someday. That he would move on. That you would not have confessed your feelings and he would fall in love with another girl, leaving you behind with feelings you should not feel. Cho Chang seems to be this very lucky girl and by what you can observe, she is definitely head over heels for Harry.
And since you have lost all hope - he never saw you in that light anyway - you decide to be happy for him. If someone in this goddamn world deserves to be happy, it is Harry.
But you also know that you need to take care of yourself and need to sort out your feelings in order to finally let him go. So that you are finally able to move on. Without him by your side.
════════════
The door of the greenhouse falls close behind you while you are greeted with the fresh but cold air of another wintery day. The landscape is burried beneath a white blanket, small snowflakes falling from the clouds above you. You take a moment to look up into the sky, the sun peeking through the clouds, warming your skin.
Closing your eyes, you sigh deeply at the pictures that appear in front of you. How Harry and Cho sit in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop in Hogsmeade, laughing and joking with each other while you stand across the street, watching them through the window.
Pulling your scarf tighter around your neck, you shake off the painful memories and take a few steps towards the castle when you feel a presence nearby, stopping you in your tracks. The next second, Harry stands in front of you, coming from within the building as it appears.
"I was searching for you everywhere!", Harry exclaims, giving you a small and awkward hug as a greeting. The smile he gives you melts your heart but it only takes a few moments until it suddenly vanishes from his lips, his dull eyes meeting yours after realizing where you were coming from. "So, you were with Neville again?"
His question throws you off. You were expecting him to tell you all about Cho and how wonderful and beautiful and just over all amazing she is. But here he is, asking you about Neville Longbottom.
"Yes, we had to finish some work for Professor Sprout and we work faster together", you answer his question truthfully, looking at him to observe any kind of reaction, even though you are not even sure what you wish to see.
"You are.. spending a lot of time with him recently", Harry says, almost whispering, as he puts on a smile that is clearly not real and would maybe fool some people, but most definitely not his best friend.
"I am. We get along really well, I like Neville", you reply, shrugging as you are not entirely sure where this conversation is going. Harry is behaving really really weird but you can't put your finger on it. At the end of your sentence, you notice how his eyes widen for a moment before he apparently regains his posture, clearing his throat.
"Where is Cho anyway?", you beat him to saying the next words, looking at him expectantly. What you did not expect, however, is for his whole body to suddenly slump together, his eyes dripping with sadness.
"It's over. Me and her, it didn't work", Harry utters under his breath, avoiding eye contact with you as he pinches the skin on his fingers.
"W-What? But you.. you looked so happy around her. God, I'm so sorry to hear that Harry", you say quietly, genuinely feeling bad for him. You are actually shocked. After seeing them together, always all over each other, you thought they would get married one day. They seemed so into each other and whenever you saw them, it felt like they were inseparable, adored the other the most. Harry did, that you know, but right now you are not so sure if Cho actually ever felt the same way he did.
"It's fine. It's not your fault, we are just not meant for each other apparently", Harry mentions and it makes you think that he is not really believing his own words. He seems genuinely heartbroken and overall sad. And you hate yourself for feeling that small inkling of hope inside of you, realizing that what you feel for him is not yet completely doomed. However, you want to slap yourself for thinking about this when Harry is obviously feeling miserable and needs his best friend to cheer him up, not his best friend who has hidden feelings for him that he does not know about.
"I- I don't even know what to say, Harry. Are you alright?", you ask, immediately regretting your question. Of course he is not alright after the love of his life rejected him.
"I'm just a bit.. confused. I thought everything was going well between us and then she says these things about me not being genuine about my feelings and then she goes on, saying I'm only ever talking about you and I don't even know what she means by that. Of course I talk about you a lot, you are my best friend, right? Why would I not talk about you?", Harry bursts out, all the emotions flowing out of him and into his words. However, you are not sure if you heard him correctly. "And-"
"Wait, wait. She said you are talking about me too much?", you ask, a bit irritated as well while you cannot ignore the butterflies fluttering inside your stomach at these words. He is constantly talking about you. Harry, the boy you love unconditionally, talks about you. And according to Cho Chang, he does that a lot. It takes a moment for you to realize that he is obviously only talking about you on a platonic basis, as his best friend and not his lover.
"Yeah. Is that.. wrong?", Harry asks you back, a questioning look on his face as his eyes switch between yours in search of an answer.
"N-No. I mean, Neville and I talked about you as well just now. But is Cho really that jealous of me?", you let out a small laugh, not really meaning it. But when Harry does not laugh with you, you immediately stop. "She is not, right?"
"Well, I don't really know what to think anymore. She said I'm not genuine about my true feelings because she feels like I'm in love with you, according to how often I talk about you or the way I apparently look at you", he answers, a clear uncertainty in his voice that he tries to hide nevertheless.
It is in that moment that you know that Cho is right. Harry does talk to you and about you a lot, probably not like other best friends do. He certainly does not talk about Hermione this often. And the way he looks at you is different from how he looks at Cho, but you always thought it was because she is the one. Not because you may be the one who is receiving all his affection.
"Y/N? Did I say something wrong?", Harry pulls you out of your thoughts after you zoomed out, trying to collect and order your thoughts. No, it can't be. Cho can't be right about his feelings. Or can she?
"Is it true?", is all you can ask. "What she said, is it true?"
"What? Y/N, are you-"
"I need to know, Harry. I haven't realized it before but now that you say it.. Isn't there the small possibility of her being correct?" You do not even know where all of this is coming from all of a sudden, but this feeling of hope inside of you takes full control over you and you cannot even stop the words from coming out.
"I- I don't know what you want me to say", Harry exclaims, desperation lacing his words. "I didn't think about her words too much. I thought she only searched for a reason to end things.. You are my best friend, Y/N. I can't-"
"Would that be so bad? Would it be so bad if we actually could?", you ask, directly looking at him. You said it and now you cannot take back your words. You just kind of displayed your feelings for your best friend out in the open and now he has all the power over you.
"Y/N.. I don't.. What about our friendship?", Harry says and this is all it takes for you to take the last and final step.
"So you would?"
"I- Of course I would! But we are best friends since first year, Y/N. I don't want to destroy everything we built up, everything we accomplished so far. You know, I think I always felt more for you than friends should but I- I can't let this come between us. I don't want it to come between-"
When your lips touch his in a soft kiss, he finally shuts up after confessing his feelings for you and the kiss is all it takes for all the worries and bad thoughts to disappear. There is only him and you, finally together. Harry slowly deepens the kiss and if you would not know better, you would think his life depends on it. The way he looks at you after breaking the kiss makes your knees weak.
"I would, too", you say, connecting your lips once more.
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sweet-creature101 · 1 year
Text
Kiwi
Summary: Harry and y/n meet after a long time. Harry sees that y/n’s the same yet also very different from the girl he first set eyes on.
famous!harry ; part one
warnings: mention of alcohol, substances, abuse, sex
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Harry felt his heart rip to shreds and break apart as he saw he you leave. Albeit he wasted no time in reminding himself that he shouldn’t feel this way. He kept on chanting things like I don’t like her, I don’t like being around her, she’s obnoxious, her head’s too far up her ass.
The real tragedy was that Harry had dated the most affluent of all women, beautiful models and actresses yet he found himself peering at Sarah’s phone everytime it rang, hoping it would be you.
He would dream of you, consciously and subconsciously. It were as if every fibre in Harry’s body told him that he missed you and how your skin felt next to his, and Harry being as arrogant as possible only brushed off the feeling.
Harry wondered about you, where you were and what your were doing at times. He knew you were touring with 5 Seconds Of Summer. He knew you had helped them write their album, Youngblood. Harry had played that album out of curiosity and immediately recognised your work which consisted of youngblood, want you back and empty wallets.
He had fallen into a new and mudane routine, one of checking everyone’s stories and posts on Instagram. Harry happened to check Luke Hemming’s private account, and he saw Polaroid’s of you.
In one, you were naked lying on your stomach as a white blanket only covered you up to the curve your spine, little modesty but enough to cover your ass. In another, Luke had an arm snaked around your waist with a smile etched on his face as you laughed with a hand covering your face. And in the last polariod, your back was against Luke’s chest, his hands around your waist as you lean towards him. It seemed as if your were about to kiss him.
Harry couldn’t sleep that night.
And that’s how the intial steps of engineering Fine Line took place, with sleepless nights and daydreams of you.
—————————————
Fine Line in a single word was an absolute and utter success. Harry felt as if he had been catapulted straight into intense limelight and scrutiny. Everything he did was placed under a microscope, although he was used to it by now.
Harry hummed the melody of She, one of his favourite songs in the album. The muse, undoubtedly being you. The pencil in his hand bounced up and down. He was going through some last minute tour arrangements. He was excited to say the least, Love On Tour was coming together and that exhilarated him.
“Be quiet I’m calling y/n.” Sarah told him. Harry hadn’t heard from you in a long time. You had phoned him a few months ago, to congratulate him.
“Hello?” Harry spoke into the speaker of his phone.
“Hi Harry.” You spoke. Harry felt his heartbeat go haywire at the sound of your voice.
“Aah, to what do I owe this pleasure y/n?” He tried his best to sound calm and collected, afraid his voice might betray him.
“Just wanted to congratulate you. You’ve done some great work on the album Harry.” You said, your voice soft and sweet.
“Thank you Love. How’s everything going with you?” He needed an excuse to hear your voice.
“Same old stuff. Play this show, play that show, write this song and write that song y’know. Really need a break.” You muttered, huffing out a breath in annoyance.
“How’s everything with you?” You added.
“Good. Even better now actually that I don’t have someone like you up my ass the whole time. Songwriting without you is less stressful.” Harry said chuckling.
You feigned shock, a very dramatic gasp leaving your lips. “And here I was thinking we’ve begun to tolerate each other.”
“I know; I know. You could be a bit more subtle when it comes to telling me how much you like me y/n.”
“Like you?! Seriously Harry?! I can barely even look at you without hurling my guts out.”
“Why are you calling y/n?” Harry asked Sarah.
“Because Mitch and I want her at the party Haz.” Sarah said rolling her eyes.
Every year, Sarah and Mitch host a Halloween party. The kind of party that never goes the way it’s supposed to go. It ends up with at least one person missing for a few days. The last time it happened to be Harry, who found himself in a motel, five hours away from their place after he sobered up. Funky times, he called it.
“Quiet as a mouse.” He said, pretending to zip his lips.
“Y/n! Lovie how are you?” Sarah spoke, her voice warm and a lovely smile on her face as she heard you speak. “That’s great! Are you free this Saturday?” Sarah spoke. Harry wish the phone were on speaker, he wanted to hear your voice again. “Yes…. No! Yes, it’s a Halloween party; well the Halloween party.” Sarah was quiet for a moment, her eyebrows sinched in understanding. Sarah went quiet for a moment, whispering a “I know it’s hard.” Harry wondered what bothered you. “You can’t wear jeans! Well not unless they’re a part of your costume.” Sarah said rolling her eyes. “Listen listen, slow down! You can stay at my place yeah?”
“Oh my god I love you I love you I love you. See you. Mwah.” Sarah squealed after the phone call ended.
“So?” Harry asked her, a smile of anticipation on his face as he looked at Sarah.
“Oh wipe off that smile off your face. You’re insufferable.” Sarah said rolling her eyes.
“M’not!”
“We all know you like her. So you can stop with this charade.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about that look.” Sarah said raising her eyebrows at Harry who looked at her with wide eyes at her statement. “There is no look.” He huffed.
“No there is. It’s a ‘i miss y/n but I don’t like her’ look”
“No there’s not.”
“There is.”
“She’s rude, obnoxious and an unpleasant person.” Harry said crossing his arms.
“Sure sure, that’s why you wrote a whole album about her.”
“It was only a few songs!”
——————————————
The music was blaring and loud. You stood outside Mitch and Sarah’s house, contemplating if you should leave or stay. Truth be told, you were exhausted. You didn’t want to party today, not even in the slightest. You wanted to cocoon yourself and stay away from everyone tonight but Sarah convinced you to come. Even dressing up seemed like a hefty chore.
You got out of the car, muttering a thank you to the driver as you handed him his money. You ran your hands over your dress, a sigh leaving your lips. You had dressed up as a pirate, although it was Vanessa, a good friend of yours who had forced you. You intially planned on dressing up in jeans and a tee shirt.
You push through the crowd, searching for Sarah. You find her near the kitchen island with Mitch and Harry behind her. You feel your heart burn when you set your eyes on Harry. Harry was dressed up as a cowboy clad in hot pink. His arms were bare and he was wearing an open waistcoat, showing off his muscled chest. Sarah spots you and waves you.
“You dressed up!” Sarah says, encasing you in a hug. You hug her back. “Sure did.” You said smiling. Mitch huged you tight and you smile a bit at the gesture.
“That’s the finest pirate booty I’ve laid me eyes on.” Harry said, mimicking a pirate accent. You roll your eyes with a small smile as you hug him. “How’ve you been?” You ask Harry. “Tour is kicking my ass. Excited yet scared y’know.”
“Don’t worry about it you’ll do well.” You said, squeezing his hand lightly as you left the trio to themselves.
Harry noticed something was off. You would’ve retorted back to him. Hell, you would’ve done anything but roll your eyes lazily. He noticed your smile didn’t reach your eyes. You seemed sad and exhausted.
After an hour of talking and drinking Harry decided to look for you. He searched the whole house, up and down and couldn’t find you. He was worried to say the least.
He entered sarahs room, scanned it thoroughly and was about to leave but when he saw you, he felt a tug at his heart. You were in balcony, leaning against the railing with your face in your hands as your body racked with sobs. Harry didn’t know what to do.
“Y/n?” Harry whispered as he entered the balcony. He noticed that you had washed your face bare. There was nothing lining your eyes, only your bare heavy red eyes.
You look at Harry with panic ridden eyes, and immdiately begin to rub away the tears. Harry walks upto you and gently holds your hands in his.
“Hey hey it’s okay.” He shushed you.
“I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m not weak I swear.” You said, your voice heavy and hoarse.
“Never said you were.” Harry replied, holding you in his arms. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I feel like, I don’t deserve this life. I shouldn’t be here, in the place I am today.” You said. You began to cry once more, feeling your chest become heavy.
Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. You bent forward where you stood on the floor, leaning against the balcony and pressing your palms to your face, as you began to cry with the force of a person vomiting on all fours.
Harry felt his heart break even more at your condition. He wanted to soothe you and would even kiss your tears away if that were the price to see you smile again.
“Why do you feel this way Love?” He asked you, tightening his arms around you.
“Because I’ve left behind people.” You said. You couldn’t control your tears.
“I’ve had to do the same y/n. It’s a part of life.” Harry said, your neck buried in chest. You could heart his heart beat through his care chest.
“No no not like that. I gave up on my mom and dad.” You said, squeezing your eyes shut hard. “I left them Harry. I saw them ruin themselves because of drugs and I left them.”
Harry was unsure of what to say. He never expected to hear such a confession from you and in all honesty, you had no clue as to why you were discussing this with Harry. But it felt right to talk to someone about it, especially if that someone was him
“We can go to my place. It’s much more quiet.”
“Okay.”
You sat down in the passenger seat of Harry’s car, looking outside. You were oddly silent. Harry started humming a song to get your attention. You still said nothing. Harry started to sing now. You still said nothing. Harry began to change songs on the radio quickly, one after the other. You still said nothing.
“You look pretty tonight.” Harry said. You only looked at him and nodded. “But the boots y/n, hideous.” He dramatically sighed. “You’ll cause a hole in the windscreen if you keep staring this hard.”
It were as if Harry was desperatly trying to say play with me. You were silent and that’s when Harry decided to pull out the big guns.
“How’s everything with that guy.. Luke Hemmings right?” Harry tried to act clueless. You only rolled your eyes at him.
“What? Broke up with him because he fucked you missionary style?” Harry said, snickering as he remebered your drunken confession.
“Your ass must be jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth.” You grumbled. Harry heard the smile in your voice.
“There’s the y/n I adore.” He said, a smile cracking his face.
“Shut up. You’re making too much noise. I can’t even hear myself losing the will to live.” You said as you closed your eyes and laid your head against the back of the seat.
“Great because we’re home.” Harry said as he got out and opened the car door for you. “M’lady.” He said, extending a hand towards you which you took as he led you up the elevator.
You entered the flat and realised it’s still the same. It still smelt of candles and honey. The yellow bean bags lay mushed in the same way and the coffee tables were still dusty. You look around and remembered all the fights, laughter, song writing and mini concerts that took place here. Nostalgia wasn’t very nice to you tonight.
“It’s still the same.” You said, looking around as you stood in the middle. Harry smiled at you. “Never had the time to change it up.” He walked into his room, bringing with him a tee shirt and a pair of boxers. “Thought you might want to change in something more comfortable.”
“Thank you.” You said as you walked into the washroom. You looked at your reflection and reminded yourself to get your act together. You washed your face and tied your hair up in a ponytail and slipped on the tee shirt not bothering to wear the boxers because the tee shirt was good enough at protecting your modesty.
You step outside to see Harry brewing a cup of coffee. He was dressed in a loose tee shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He smiled at you and handed you the cup.
“I’d much rather have whiskey.” You said. Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement.
“Your wish is my command.” Harry said and went to fetch you a glass. “So…” he trailed off as he brought you the glass and drank some from his.
“It was a moment of weakness. Nothing more nothinh less.” You said as you drank.
One glass multiplied to two, two multiplied to four and four came kept on multiplying until Harry had to literally pry out the glass from your hand.
“You’ll have a headache tomorrow y/n.” He said, keeping the glasses away.
“Good thing I know how to handle handle my liquor then.” You said smiling, your cheeks flush and hinted with pink. You lay down on the sofa with a thud and sigh as you stretch your legs.
“You know, I never told you this but Ive always liked coming here.”
“Really?” Harry asked you, his smile gentle and surprised. “Yeah. It’s a good reminder.”
“A reminder of what?” Harry asked you out of curiosity. “That a place away from home can feel like it.”
“This place feels like home?” He asked you, his eyes gentle and warm. “Yeah. I mean, might be the whiskey talking at this point.” You chuckled as you set the glass down.
“I think you’ve had enough.” Harry said.
“Is that a tattoo gun?” You ask, getting up and fetching the tattoo gun. A mischievous smile on your face. “Yes.” Harry said, his eyes wide in uncertainty. “Give me your hand.” You said, as you plugged in the gun into a power outlet. “I don’t think this is a good idea,”
“Shh Harry I know what I’m doing.”
You didn’t know what you were doing.
“Okay.”
You grab the gun and sit across him, thighs touching. You hold his right hand in yours and begin to tattoo half a heart on the outer part of his little finger. Harry watched you intently, brows sinched, your lower lip encased in your teeth as you carefully drew the heart.
“There.” You said once it was completed. Harry looked at you with an incredulous look, “half a heart?”
“Wait a second fuckface.” You said snorting as you the other half of the heart on your left little finger. “Give me your hand.” You said to him. Harry brought his hand next to yours and there it was, a full heart.
“We have matching tattoos.” You said, “wait, we have matching tattoos.” You repeated with a grievous tone. “HARRY WE HAVE MATCHING TATTOOS!” You exclaimed for the third time, bringing your hands to your face.
“You shouldn’t have let me use the gun.”
“You would’ve done it anyways idiot.” Harry mumbled rolling his eyes. “Besides, they’re not that bad if you look at it from a distance.” He said.
“I am pretty good at this though.” You said smugly, a smirk on your face.
“Yeah yeah wipe the smile off your face.” Harry said makinh a face at you that only made you smile wider.
You raise your hand to flick his nose but he catches your wrist in his hand. The smirk on your face faded and Harry looked at you with raised eyebrows as his hand slowly travelled to your elbow, tugging you close to him until you were almost but not fully in his lap.
“Want to try that again sweetheart?”
Everything happened far too quickly. You had lost the ability to comprehend the fact that you had reached such a juncture. You lean in, brushing your lips against his but not kissing. The fingers of your free hand trail the curve of his jaw and settle down at the base of his neck.
Harry chuckled and said “are you holding back Love?”
You look at him with glassy eyes as you remove his tee shirt. Your hands shaking and fumbling with every move. Harry removes your tee shirt hastily as if he were a hungry man begging on all fours for food. He wraps your legs around his torso and dips your backwards until the springs in the sofa begin to squeak. He cups your face in his hand, his thumbs encasing your face carefully. He kisses you. He kisses you until time topples over and you are sweeped by heavy oblivion.
“If you plan on fucking me, do it right now or else get out so I can make myself come.” You said. Harry smirked.
And then, he fucked you. He fucked you hard against the sofa, claiming you as his his. He buried himself in you again and again. Glorifying in the feel of you, your smell, your taste. He fisted his hand in your hand in your hair, holding you in place. Your legs were wrapped around his waist as sinful noises escaped your lips.
Your hands were wrapped around his hair, tugging harshly as you both felt your core muscles tighten. “Oh shit.” You whisper in his ear as you felt yourself uncoil slowly. Harry lolled his head back in his ecstasy as he reached his climax.
“Fuck, you make missionary feel good.” You said completely breathless. “That’s how you deserve to be fucked.” He said kissing you.
———————————————
“Oh my God you were fucking amazing!” Sarah said squealing as she hugged Harry.
Harry started touring again and this time, the whole world was familiar with him and his work. He was proud, he was proud of himself and his whole team but he couldn’t help missing you.
Harry and you had a certain arrangement for a while but both of you broke it off perhaps three months ago.
“Harry?” you called his name. Harry looked up at you, his eyes laden with a sheen of lust as he looked at you. “Yeah?” He asked you.
“I think we should stop.”
“Stop?”
“Hooking up i mean.” You muttered as you fiddled with the hem of Harry’s tee shirt you wore. Harry raised his eyebrows at your eyebrows at your words and rubbed his eyes.
“Why do you want to stop? I thought things were good.” Harry said, evidently confused with your behaviour. You had always been bold when it came to telling how you felt and what you wanted so seeing you like this, timid and quiet was a surprise to say the least.
“Look at us. Im wearing your tee shirt to bed, we talk all day, we’re always around each other and what not.”
“Are you afraid you’re going to catch feelings?”
“Yes.”
“That’s ridiculous. You know that i’d never do anything to hurt you.”
“Harry. We’re different people. I don’t want to tie myself down to someone. You have your career ahead of you and I have mine.” You reasoned. Truth be told, you had predicted this conversation months ago.
“I think theres something more to this y/n. Talk to me.”
“There’s nothing beyond what I said.”
“There is.”
“No there’s not.”
“Is it Luke?”
“No.”
“Stop with the curt answers and spit it out.”
“Oh fuck you Harry. I can’t deal with this right now.” You spat at him, visibly frustrated.
“It’s Luke isn’t it?”
“No it’s not. We hooked up a few times and that’s it and you shouldn’t even care. Why don’t you go and kiss Kendall’s ass like you always do.”
“What are you even trying to say? It’s impossible to have a conversation with you, Jesus.”
“You want a girlfriend. I can’t be one. You want someone who’ll kiss you out of the blue and cuddle you. I can’t be that person for you Harry so stop wasting your time with me.”
“Y/n listen to me-”
“Goodbye Harry.”
That was the last conversation he shared with you. He felt his heart clench at remembering the conversation that had taken between you two.
Harry saw Sarah rush to the door with a bright smile on her face. She was about to open the door but turned towards Harry after mumbling “oh shit.” under her breath.
“Harry.” She called out his name, drawing it out. “Yeah?”
“Y/n wants to talk to you.”
“Okay.” Harry felt his heart burn and his palms turn clammy.
“She’s outside.”
“What?” He exclaimed.
“Okay bye.” Sarah said rushing out the door.
Harry saw you stand outside the door, you hair loose and falling into straight waves with your eyes lined with your signature liner. You wore a short black dress that was sinched at your waist and fell losely at your hips with a pair or red cowboy boots.
“Hi Harry.” You said, your voice unwavering as you stood in the doorway.
“Y/n, i didn’t expect to hear from you.”
“Before you say anything, I’m sorry. I was afraid and this is all so new to me. I fucked up i know. I was too caught up on being tough and not letting you in and what not…”
“Y/n it’s fine listen,”
“No shut up and listen to me first. I’m sorry and I like you, fuck I think it’s more than that and it’s important I get this off my chest. Okay you can speak now.”
“Fuck, get over here so I can kiss you.”
———————————
a/n: I’m yet to re read this so please excuse any typos. Interact with my work, leave me comments, let me know if you liked it! small interaction goes a long way guys! Love you <3
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bad1dimagines · 8 months
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I don't think he likes it ;/
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alittletaste · 1 year
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YOU’VE GOT MY DEVOTION; THE SERIES MASTERLIST
Welcome to the YGMD masterlist! Here you’ll be able to access a compilation of all of the sweetness that goes down within the Styles Clan household [Send me your thoughts] <3
* indicates smut so only proceed to click if you are eighteen plus!
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DATING, ENGAGED AND MARRIED:
His muse ➠ The one where Harry’s struggling with his lyrics so you become his muse 2017 [1.8k words]*
A personal show ➠ The one where Y/n models some of her lingerie for Harry and he can’t keep his hands to himself 2018 [2k words]*
PREGNANCY, LABOUR AND DELIVERY:
Remember when ➠ The one where Harry and a very pregnant y/n have a “remember when” conversation before bed 2020 [2.3k words]*
KIDS/PARENTHOOD:
Dozing off ➠ The one where Harry and Y/n are exhausted parents in desperate need of an orgasm, but luck isn’t on their side 2030 [1.4k words]
Third time’s a charm ➠ The one where Harry and Y/n have a whole day just to themselves and they couldn’t think of a better way to spend it than having sex. However, not everything works out how they want it to 2032 [4.1k words]
BLURBS:
- The one where Harry and Jude go to get y/n her cravings 2023 [682 words]
- The one where Jude wakes Harry and y/n up for Christmas 2023 [400 words]
- The one where Harry goes on a hike with his kids 2030 [572 words]
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unabashegirl · 14 days
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Enticing 42 — Harry Styles
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Summary: Harry is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?
masterlist
word ocunt: 1.5K
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The soft glow of dawn crept through the window, casting a gentle light on the room. Y/N stirred in her sleep, feeling the warmth of the bed and the soft sheets around her. As she slowly began to wake, she became aware of a gentle hand shaking her shoulder.
“Y/N,” a familiar voice whispered. She blinked her eyes open to see Harry sitting on the bed, looking impeccable in a tailored suit and with the scent of freshly bathed skin lingering in the air.
“Mmm?” Y/N mumbled, still half-asleep, trying to comprehend what Harry was saying.
“I have to head to London. I have an important meeting today,” Harry explained, his tone gentle but urgent. “I need to leave early. I'll try my best to get back tonight.”
Y/N rubbed her eyes and sat up, trying to shake off the drowsiness. “London? Today?” she asked, the information slowly sinking in. It was rare for Harry to have meetings that required him to travel to London on such short notice.
Harry nodded, concern and determination in his eyes. “Yes, love. It's rather unexpected, but it's crucial. I'll make it back as soon as I can.”
She glanced at the clock and realized how early it was. “Alright,” Y/N murmured, her mind still in a sleepy haze. “I need to get ready for work anyway. Just be safe, okay?”
He smiled warmly, leaning down to press a soft kiss on her forehead. “I'll be careful, I promise. I'll call you as soon as I have a chance.”
Y/N nodded, feeling a mix of pride and worry for Harry's responsibilities. She knew how important his work was and admired his dedication.
Harry quickly finished getting ready, grabbing his briefcase and jacket. He bent down to give her a lingering kiss. “I love you,” he whispered, his eyes expressing his genuine affection. “
“I love you too,” she replied softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “Take care, and good luck with your meeting.”
With a final smile, Harry left their shared apartment, leaving Y/N alone sleep for a few more hours and to prepare for the day. As she went about her morning routine, thoughts of Harry lingered in her mind. She knew that no matter how busy their lives got, they always found a way to make it work.
A few hours later as Y/N finished her morning routine and prepared to leave for work, she noticed a folded piece of paper on the nightstand beside her bed. Curiosity piqued, she picked it up and unfolded the note to find Harry's familiar handwriting.
“My Love,
I hope this note finds you well. I wanted to let you know that my entire staff is at your disposal today. If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask. Andrew will be your dedicated point of contact, and he'll take care of anything you need.
If you require a driver to take you to work or back to the apartment later, it's all arranged. Just let them know, and they'll be there for you. Andrew's number is included below in case of any emergencies.
Remember, you are never alone, even when I'm away. I'm always just a call away, and I'll be home as soon as I can. Take care, and have a wonderful day at work. I love you.
Always, H”
A warm smile spread across Y/N's face as she read Harry's thoughtful words. His consideration and love for her were evident in this simple but caring gesture. It made her heart swell with affection and gratitude for having him in her life.
She saved Andrew's number in her phone, appreciating the support system Harry had put in place for her. The knowledge that Harry had made arrangements to ensure her comfort and safety made her feel loved and cherished.
As Y/N finished getting ready for work, she contacted the driver as Harry had arranged. The driver was waiting outside the building, ready to take her to work. Just as she walked out of the building, she heard her name being called. She turned around and saw James, her ex-boyfriend, standing there. He quickly approached her, stopping her from getting into the car. “Y/N!” James called out, his voice filled with urgency. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she locked eyes with him. It had been so long since they last saw each other, and the unexpected encounter caught her off guard.
“James?” Y/N managed to say, her voice tinged with surprise and confusion. Memories of their past relationship flooded her mind, bringing a mix of emotions to the surface.
“I've been trying to reach you,” James said, his tone filled with concern. “I need to talk to you”.
Y/N's heart raced as she locked eyes with James, her ex-boyfriend. Memories of their past relationship flooded her mind, bringing a mix of fear and unease. She knew what James was capable of and the reasons she had cut off all communication with him after they returned from Italy.
“James?” Y/N managed to say, her voice trembling with a mix of surprise and apprehension. She took a step back, creating some distance between them. “There's nothing to talk about. I don't know how you found me, but I need you to leave.”
James' expression turned desperate as he reached out, trying to grab Y/N's arm. “Please, just hear me out,” he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation. “I've changed, Y/N. I want a chance to explain.”
Y/N's fear intensified as she pulled away from James, her voice firm and resolute. "No, James. I can't take that risk. I've moved on from our past, and I need you to respect that. Leave me alone."
Y/N's heart raced as James cornered her, his eyes filled with anger and determination. Fear gripped her as she realized she was trapped, unable to escape his grasp.
"You can't get away from me," James sneered, his voice laced with menace. "I won't let you go so easily."
Y/N's mind raced, searching for a way out of this dangerous situation. She mustered up all her courage and spoke firmly, her voice tinged with defiance. "You need to leave, James. I won't let you threaten me anymore. I'm not the person I was before, and I won't be controlled by you."
James' expression turned even more menacing as he tightened his grip on her arm. "You think you can just move on and forget about me? You're mine,"
Y/N felt her heart race as James’s anger boiled over, his grip on her arm tightening. Fear coursed through her veins, memories of their tumultuous past flashing before her eyes. She knew she had to be strong, for herself, for the baby growing inside of her and for the love that she has found for Harry again.
“James, let go” Y.N said firmly, her voice quivering but resolute. “This is not okay, and it’s not going to change anything”.
He sneered, his grip relenting slightly. “You think you can just move on and forget everything we had?”
“It’s not about forgetting,” she replied, her voice gaining strength. “It’s about moving forward and finding happiness.”
James’s face contorted with rage, fueled by Y/N’s rejection. Without restraint, he shoved her forcefully, causing her to collide with the unforgiving side of the building. Pain erupted through her head, an immediate, searing throb that made her stagger, her vision blurring.
Gasping, Y/N clutched the back of her head, warm stickiness coating her trembling feels. Fear surged within her, mixing with the agony pulsing in her skull. She could feel the world spinning around her, threatening to pull her into unconsciousness.
Harry’s driver was out of the car as soon as he noticed James's hands on her. Unfortunately, he hadn’t noticed James or Y/N coming down. He had been on his phone, entertained watching some videos online.
“Y/N!” Max’s voice broke through the haze of pain and dizziness, his alarmed face coming into view. James was kick on his feet as soon as he heard Max calling out to her.
Every fiber of her being screamed with torment, but she summoned the strength to focus on Max’s concerned eyes. He swiftly came to her aid, his steady presence grounding her in the chaotic moment.
“We need to get you help, now” Max urged, his voice urgent and soothing. He bent down and swift her off her feet. He could tell that she was able to make the steps to the car. Every step sent shockwaves of pain through her head, but she gritted her teeth, desperate to stay conscious, to stay strong.
The hospital walls became a blur as she was whisked into the emergency room. Medical professionals swarmed around her, attending to the injury that now pulsed with an instant beat. She fought to stay present, to endure the stitches and the probing questions. But it got the best of her, and she succumb to the darkness.
If you would like to read ahead then I encourage you to join my Patreon and give it a chance!
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TAGLIST: @0oolookitsme, @happycupcakeenthusiast, @kennedywxlsh, @hsfics, @stylesbrock, @cuddlingwithharry, @sucker4angstt, @bluemoonedwings, @cherriesrae, @vornilla, @mellamolayla, @harryscurls21, @stilesissaved, @be-with-me-so-happily, @harryssatellitestompers, @jerseygirlinca, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @lomlolivia, @stylesfever, @daphnesutton, @n0vaj3an, @breezykpop, @kathb59, @sassamanda77, @sherbitdibdab
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harrieatthemet · 2 months
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Needle
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Summary: in which Harry brings you flowers to minimize the pain of a needle, and you've decided to throw out your baby books.
Word Count: 2.6k
Author's note: taking it to the very beginning and gifting all of us (myself included) the series of events that brought us to our reigning queen: Angel Baby.
It's her world, we're just living in it: she lives here
It’s resting menacingly between his fingers, staring you down as though it’s got a mind of it’s own. There’s a very familiar sensation that’s starting to conjure itself up in the pit of your stomach; fear and the anticipation of unavoidable pain. Honestly, the longer you fixate on the bulk of the needle the more the feeling that started in your gut starts to expand towards your chest. 
“Just do it,” you blurt out, “get it over with.”
You’re not intentionally trying to squirm. Fight or flight is just loitering deep within your instinctual reflexes, which is making it kind of hard not to writhe around a bit. You don’t know if it’s the gush of cool air that falls in through the cracked window or the way Harry moves closer to your exposed abdomen but you can’t help but jolt a bit. 
“Just hold still poppet, promise m’gonna make it quick.” 
He’s eye level with your lower back now, crouched down with his knees hovering brazenly above his feet. Before he advances any closer he peeks up at you. It’s almost as if he’s silently asking for permission to get on with it. You just nod before sealing your eyes shut, like you typically do. 
There’s an entire routine for this that’s he nailed down to a T. In an attempt to soothe a bit of your nerves, he always lays his hand flat to the base of your stomach. That’s where he lets his thumb rub a few circles as a way to ease the nerves a bit; not just yours, but his too. His newest addition is delivering a small kiss to the spot he pokes you with the needle. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, but he feels like an extra step for good luck couldn’t hurt at this point. He doesn’t mind that this particular shot goes into your butt. He’s big on good luck rituals, so he’s not about to fuck with the juju on this one.
One bit he refuses to change is to dig up something distracting to draw your attention elsewhere. It doesn’t always work. In fact, you don’t think it’s ever worked at all. You’d never outwardly admit that it’s a useless ploy; you know he’s just trying to take some of the edge off. Each time it’s something different and he always tries to pick something ridiculous or outlandishly stupid. 
“Y’know,” he grins as he takes the fleshy part of your belly in between his thumb and index finger “I literally just kissed your ass.”
A proud smirk plants itself on his mouth when he hears an exhale-like laugh slip out of you. It fades into a frown though as he jabs at you with the needle, because you suck it back in with a sharp breath. One of your hands is gripping onto the basin of the sink, and the other is digging it’s fingers into the flimsy material of his shoulder in an attempt to offset the impending burning sensation. He can almost feel your fingernails creating small crescents into the surface of his skin. 
It’s a relief once he can finally pull the needle out. He hates seeing you in pain. Even though this was an endeavor you both willingly agreed to embark on, he hates being the one to put you in pain. That’s why he breathes out in comforting release when he can put the empty needle onto the kitchen counter. 
“S’all finished now,” his tone is so calm because he knows the stifling burning sensation is well underway, “no more shots.”
His eyes are trained on you as you wiggle your jeans back up your legs, wincing a bit when the denim veers over the injection spot. And you fiddle with the zipper before looping the button back in, smoothing out your shirt over the waistband as a way to push the last 6 minutes completely from your mind. 
Finally you bring your gaze to meet his, moping a bit in the process, “You said that last time.”
“I mean it,” he tuts, the coolness of his rings meeting your cheeks as he lays both hands flat on your face, “can feel somethin’ different this time.”
He doesn’t care that he goes in for a peck on your mouth and still feels the frown on your lips. For good measure, he delivers a few more at rapid speed until he finally feels your frown lines subside. That’s how he can start to feel a little more content. He’s completely at ease when he pulls his face back a bit, analyzing the more lax expression on your face while he strokes his thumbs near your temples. 
“Maybe” you answer flatly, “I’m not getting my hopes up, though.”
Though he’s limited in what he can do to mitigate all that comes with the IVF process, he’s made it his priority to over-compensate in what he actually can do to try and make up for the things he can’t. If he could physically take the shots himself he would in a heartbeat. But he can’t, so he teeters on the border of helplessness when you get down in the mouth like this. He’d compensate with long vacations, drowning you in little gifts sporadically or planning quirky dates to keep your energy up. There was a shift after the most recent miscarriage that even doubling the size of your wedding ring diamond couldn’t reverse. So now he just tries to stick solely to offering his optimistic support whatever chance he gets. 
“Thank you for these,” you hum in gratitude as you bring the bouquet of flowers beneath your nose, “I feel like I should be getting you flowers, though.”
“Flowers fo’ me?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, “Why’s that?”
“Didn’t you just open mouth kiss my ass cheek?” 
His laugh starts in the back of his eyes as they crinkle in amusement, tickling the back of his throat as it spills from his mouth and echos through the kitchen. With a shake of the head he mocks you for a minute by puckering his lips, handing you the ice pack he fished out of the freezer so you could minimize the burn from the injection site. 
He gleefully accepts your invitation to handle the flowers; unwrapping them with nimble fingers as he peels back the paper to expose the stems. There’s amusement twinkling in his eye as he catches you slipping the bunny shaped ice pack inside the butt of your jeans, fidgeting with it so it’ll stay in one place. The amusement quickly deteriorates though when he opens the garbage to throw out the paper and greeted with something of a much more somber tone. 
“Y/N,” his shoulders drop a bit, “y’wanna tell me why these are in here?” 
Though your back is turned to him so you can’t physically see what it is he’s referring to, you already know exactly what he’s talking about. If he’s got the garbage open you know he’s looking at the pile of baby books mounted at the very top. You know how he is, how he wants to take care of everyone all the time. And because of that, you willfully decided to omit your brief breakdown earlier when you went through your nightstand and stumbled upon those books hidden beneath a couple pairs of tights. 
“Not particularly” you admit, back still turned to him, “just had a kinda weird morning.”
There’s a lingering silence that takes up a chunk of space in the room. You’re not willing to divulge anymore than you already have, and Harry waits a minute before throwing out the paper before closing the garage. He wants to make sure he strings together the proper things to say to you before saying anything at all. 
It’s once he gathers what he needs to that you don’t hear him, but feel him; the front his body pressing into the back of yours. He smirks a bit when he feels the chill of the ice pack through your pants, hands slithering around your waist before he interlocks his fingers and rests both hands on your stomach. A hum of approval gurgles in his throat when he feels you lean into the embrace so he can rest his head atop your shoulder. 
“S’gonna happen” his whisper is like a lull in your ear, his lips right up against them, “We’ll go t’the doctor in a few days and do th’extraction and just take it day by day. Good news this time, I promise.” 
He delivers it with kisses to your head in between words, as though it’ll somehow permanently ingrain into your mind and become a staple in your thought process. 
In a way, it almost does. 
On a loop in your mind his words play; over and over throughout the next few days without pause in sight. He tries to reiterate them as much as he can whenever he feels like you need a little extra support; the egg retrieval, the implantation process, all of it and everything in between. If this has been a difficult road for him to go down, he truthfully can’t imagine the cross you’ve been bearing through it all. All he can do for the next couple of days, though it pains him there isn’t anything more he’s capable of, is offer as much moral support and words of encouragement that he’s capable of producing. 
“How y’feeling?” He’s asking with a wide, forced smile as he peeks over at you from the driver’s seat, “Feelin’ good?” 
His hand unoccupied by the steering wheel is making itself useful on your upper thigh. It’s where his fingers are tapping in tune to the key of the music humming from the car stereo. And every so often they’ll stop to give your leg a squeeze; his way of comforting you on the trek to the long-await, very dreaded doctors appointment. The tone of the afternoon is overkill perkiness, and Harry is setting the mood by sparing no gesture big or small. 
“Har relax,” you laugh, “I’m all good.” 
There’s no point in rebutting with anything or doubling down on the enthusiasm like he’s been doing all morning. You’re answer was definitive enough to tell him that you weren’t interested in dragging that conversation any further than where you left it. That’s fine; he’s playing by your rule book today anyways. 
It’s why he doesn’t make that cheesy cat joke to the girl behind the desk at the doctor’s office. He’s said it about a million times and knows you’re sick of it. He doesn’t stand up when the attending nurse hangs in the doorway of the waiting room, calling out for a ‘Ms. Styles’ and being corrected by Harry with the usual (and polite) ‘it’s Mrs. Actually’. He’s so sure to keep you in a calm and collected state that he doesn’t make a vampire joke or pretend to pass out when the nurse puts the line into your vein to take a blood sample. 
“No fake faint this time,” you muse teasingly, “they grow up so fast.” 
From his seat in the corner you watch him playfully roll his eyes, mimicking you under his breath before he stands up and straightens himself up. He wants to take a firm stance by you, who’s perched meekly on the examination table swinging your legs back and forth to pass the time. 
You won’t tell Harry in fear of him leaning into the overcompensating role of ‘caretaker’ and ‘fixer of all problems’, but you’re stomach is in a million tight little knots and your eyes are starting to glaze over. At first you wanted to fault it to exhaustion; you barely got an hours worth of sleep last night because the onset of anxiety was too overbearing to keep your eyes shut for more than a few minutes. 
“I don’t think I’m meant to be a mom,” you sigh forlornly, and his eyes go wide at the bluntness, “I don’t think- I don’t wanna do this again if it doesn’t work, okay? Is that okay?”
It’s almost an a-ha moment for Harry. He’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop because he couldn’t really wrap his head around how mild you were being. But there it was, the revelation from you’d he’d been holding his breath for. It’s not what he wanted to here but nonetheless, he knew it was bound to come at some point. 
"Whatever y'want, poppet. Just want y'to be happy."
He nods in agreement as he says it, hoping it's enough. If this was the end, than it was the end. All he can do is offer a kiss before a long-lingering hug, which you take as confirmation that he understands you’re just not equipped to keep at this further than the point you’re at. 
“How’re we doing today?”
Both you and Harry stiffen out a bit once the doctor immerses himself into the room, answering with a chipper ‘good’ in unison. It tells Harry to prep for the impending bad news. It feels like he regressed and sunken back into the last time he was here. The memory is almost too vivid; the perpetual ball of dread in his stomach, the look of disappointment that swept across your face before a few tears dribbled down your cheek, the sob or two you choked out in the otherwise silent car ride home. The memory is subconsciously prepping him for what’s to come, and he’ll be here to pull himself up by the boot straps to make sure you have plenty of space to crumble once the doctor reads off the plastic board in his hands. 
“Tell me how you’re feeling,” the doctor asks, plopping himself down in one of those backless spinning chairs to scoot himself closer, “anything worth making a note of? Nothing is too big or small.” 
“Not really” Harry answer is simply a mindless, knee-jerk response, “just like-oh, y’asking, no ok-ok sorry.” 
The doctor chuckles a bit, saying something to Harry about how nerves are normal. Honestly, you’re only half listening and both of them are as audible as white noise. You’ve mentally checked out as you anticipate the news to come. You wish you were out of your body or anywhere else.
“Just tired,” you admit, slowly nodding as you purse your lips, “really tired. A little bit of cramping, too. Mostly tired, though.” 
That’s about all you’re willing to disclose for your quaint audience of two. Though you are literally and physically exhausted, perhaps there was a bit of a metaphoric meaning to it too. This process is tiring. Consistent bad news is tiring. Being physically incapable of giving Harry the child he so desperately wants is so fucking tiring. 
All the doctor does is nod his head in a way to in-audibly tell you he’s making a mental note of your vague list of symptoms. There’s a terse pause where the room falls into a quiet pause. The only noise to be heard is when your doctor flips one of the pages on his clipboard before swiftly folding it in half. 
“Well,” his breath out is in a more positive tune, “all normal symptoms for the first trimester.” 
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion before your body begins to go completely numb, though Harry’s hand gives your a comforting squeeze. He looks at you first, lips spread in a little O as his eyes nearly double in size. Frantically he tries to rack his brain for something to say, and while nothing seems to be coming out, the doctor swoops in to do enough talking for him.
The doctor extends his hand out to you, the folded paper in his palm and a grin etched on the lower half of his face, “Congratulations.”
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eternalsunshinehs · 2 months
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this is professor!harry
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Why Me?
summary: you like harry, a lot, while harry....we'll find out
pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
a/n: new here, would love the feedback and rb, be kind<3
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“Look out!”
But it was too late you lost your balance and jerked forward towards the cold ground or what you thought to be, instead you landed on top of somebody else, somebody who smelled nice, really nice. You opened your eyes and for fraction of a second, the world around you seemed frozen. It was him. Your face was buried in Harry Style’s chest, the first few buttons of his shirt undone exposing his heavenly front. You couldn’t help but inhale against him taking all that you could. You weren’t doing it voluntarily but your body was somehow making you do so.
“It’s a bit early for this, don’t you think?” he said voice rasping with a playful smile.
It made you come back to your senses. Focus! But wait a minute what did he say?-
“What do you mean?” you said without thinking and instantly regretted it.
“Well I wouldn’t mind if you wouldn’t but I still think-”
“Oh My God!” you cut him off because clearly, the conversation was going in another direction. You got ahold of yourself and tried to get your way back up. You led out your hand to him and he instantly grabbed it pulling himself up. 
“Ow!” he said getting up. Falling on the ground must have hurt. He stood up and now you were standing in close proximity face to face, well not face to face cause he was taller than you but nevertheless you were close. You started to think about all the times you had wished for it to be true, the cute little scenarios that you’d imagine in your head every time you’d let yourself think about him. Harry Styles a year senior to you and the rockstar of your school. He was loved and adored by everyone in the entire University. He was charming, a great singer, polite, and for most parts cocky but for a good reason. The moment you first saw him you knew he’s gonna mean something to you and immediately after you also knew that you would never mean anything to him. It was sad but true. Part of the reason you never even approached any kind of conversation with him ever except for maybe congratulating him or that one time which you’re pretty sure you don’t remember. Also, he’s always with someone, always. Didn’t stop you from wishing to kiss him every time he would pass by you. You weren’t one of the shy introvert ones you were outgoing, lively, speak up for yourself, and would hit on guys if you wanted but not with him. You just couldn’t. 
“NO!-” he spoke interrupting your trail of thought. He was hunched on the ground picking something from the ground. He got up and you noticed he had a bunch of roses in his hand but he had a look of despair on his face and then you saw the flowers were crushed. Somebody stepped on them maybe it was him. Yeah, it was him, he accidentally slipped on his own flowers. He must’ve brought them for somebody else, probably a girl he likes, you thought. You felt bad for him now that they were ruined. But you also felt bad for yourself.
“I’m so sorry, it’s partly my fault, I lost my balance and fell on you..” you said apologetically.
“Partly? It’s completely your fault!” he spoke agitatedly. Now that was not fair cause he was wrong.
“Excuse me? Some asshole pushed me and that’s why I lost my balance and fell on you, it’s not like I did it intentionally so, watch it.” you clarified yourself matching his tone. ”Nevertheless I’m sorry that your flowers got ruined, genuinely.” you added calmly.
“Yeah, they are...they’re ruined..” He said in a settling tone but he still looked mad probably at himself. You wish you could help.
“Come with me!” you said excitedly...you just had a brilliant idea.
“What?” he asked looking confused.
We’re getting you new flowers!”
“Where? what are you talking about-?” You grabbed his hand in yours not giving it a moment’s thought and started walking ahead of him and he was following your steps. You passed through the crowd in the hallway. You felt a few glances at you probably because of Harry but you didn’t pay attention. You were in a hurry. Soon you both were in front of the headmistress’s room. You dropped his hand and went inside. You turned back and saw that Harry was still outside the door.
“What are you doing? Get in! Do you wanna be seen sneaking to the Principal’s office?” you said quietly. Quickly he got in and shut the door behind him. It was a moderately large area. 
“Why are we here?” he asked quietly shrugging.
“To get you a fresh bouquet, don’t you want that?” you replied pointing your eyes at the rose vase, smiling coyly. He looked to where you were pointing, his eyes widened with the realization, and his lips curved into a smile the same as yours.
“Are you suggesting...”
“Yes! but we don’t have much time, let’s go!”
You got hold of the vase, emptied the fresh roses carefully while he was arranging the crushed ones in a presentable manner, and then put them in the vase instead. They looked...bad. So you took one of the fresh roses and placed it amongst them. Harry glanced at what you were doing and then he came close to you took another of the fresh rose and put I next to your flower in the vase just like you did.
“They look better now” He smiled looking at you. You smiled back.
“...I’ll email them to you right away.” you both heard a voice from outside coming closer. It was Mrs. Walker, the principal. She surely is gonna come inside any second. You looked at Harry only to find that he was looking at you, panic clearly visible on his face just like yours. You didn’t know what to do, you could pretend to be waiting for the Principal in her office without permission plus you had the flowers. There was no time. You were getting anxious.
“Shit, now wh-” Harry clasped his palm on your lips stopping you from speaking any further. You looked at him, somewhat startled. He moved behind you keeping his hand firmly on your mouth and started walking towards the room further till you reached the desk. It was a huge wooden table and before you could comprehend what was happening he pushed the chair with his free hand and motioned you to get under the table. You did as he said and simultaneously he got under as well. It was a confined space with cabinet drawers on both sides and the only vacant space was of the chair. He pulled the wooden chair back as much as he could without making any noise, his muscles flexing. Soon you both heard the door open and became inert. 
It was in the complete stillness you noticed the kind of position you both were in. Harry’s back against one side of the wood and your own back against Harry’s chest. His legs are wide and you are in between them. Your hips were dangerously close to Harry’s crotch. You could feel his chest rising up and down matching yours, his breath falling right into your neck, the tension was overwhelming you. All of a sudden Harry’s hand came onto yours and you got aware that your hands were fidgeting against the flower stems. He must have noticed it and was trying to calm you down.
“Ow..” a thorn stuck in your index finger and ow it hurts but you immediately placed your hand on your mouth and so did Harry on top of yours. Seems like he wanted to do it for you or for both of you actually ‘cause a single voice and you both were done. He bent forward to see what caused the sudden cry so you moved your hand from your mouth and turning back a little showed your finger with a tiny drop of blood coming from it. He looked concerned and held your hand in his to comfort you. You couldn't help but think how good his hands felt in yours. 
“Now where are those files? I sure asked them to put it on my table...” Mrs. Walker was talking to herself not that you could see but you could tell that she was close to the table. Suddenly you heard her footsteps moving closer and closer. You started getting anxious with every step she took.  Soon she was right next to the chair opening one of the drawers. You let your head fall back into Harry’s shoulder closing the little gap that was left, his cheek touching your temple, you held his hand tightly, eyes closed. In response he wrapped his other arm around your shoulder, assuring you. You heard the drawer getting closed and opened your eyes only to find she was still standing there. But she was no longer searching for the papers. Maybe she found them and would go now. But you didn’t hear the doors being opened for another couple of minutes.
After a while, however, the door opened and then closed. She was out. You both sighed, bodies relaxed. You glanced at Harry still laying on him, he let out a small laugh, it was an anxious laugh and you couldn’t help but join him. The whole situation was so anxiously funny. Soon you were both laughing hysterically. 
“Jesus! I can’t believe what just happened.” Harry said controlling his giggles.
“I swear to God for a moment I thought we were done for” you added, still laughing.
“You look beautiful,” he said all of a sudden. You stopped laughing not abruptly didn’t believing what you heard.
“What?” you asked still smiling cause what you heard sure as hell can’t be true.
“I said you are beautiful,” he repeated himself with a look on his face which was deadly serious but in the sweetest way as if he was just being honest.
Your heart just skipped a beat, you could feel your cheeks flushing, the warmth of your skin touching his, the close proximity of air it was all creating sexual tension. You could feel it, the butterflies. You gulped the air in your throat. What was happening? You realize you should probably do something.
“Um.. thanks, I guess. I...” you were stuttering and you decided to detach yourself from him and moved your head which rested on him but the strong tattooed arm that was around your shoulder didn’t let you get away too far. He moved forward, his mouth touching your ears. 
“You’re beautiful.. so fucking beautiful..” he whispered in your ears, then he lowered his face into your neck, inhaling sharply. You shut your eyes, head leaning back against him almost on its accord. His other hand slowly caresses your cheek and grabs your neck and tilts it towards himself. You slowly opened your eyes. Your faces are inches away from each other. His emerald elookedking deeply into yours, constantly switching to your lips. He looked like a dream. A part of you wished to play along to see where it goes, even though it might just be Harry being playful. You wanted it, wanted him. You moved your hands to cup Harry’s face but then you saw the flowers in the palm of your hands. The flowers he got for someone else. Someone else that wasn’t you.
You dropped your hands abruptly at the realization, detaching and pushing yourself. You wanted to just get away from him. Fast. In the process of which you hit your head under the desk wood but didn’t care. You pushed the chair, and let yourself out of the tiny confined space. Soon Harry followed you out.
“I...I'm sorry if-” he spoke as soon as he got up 
“Yeah...no..um. I...gotta go. I’ve Trigonometry in like...” you looked at the wall clock or at least you pretended to .. “now!” you finished and moved swiftly out of the door, making sure to check the hallway.
“Hey..um..” you heard Harry speaking but you were already gone. You just wanted to run...away and so you did. You walked as fast as you could, afraid that Harry might soon catch up if he wanted to. So you kept walking until your feet dragged you to the only place you could think of- the library.
You went straight inside to the “Memoirs” section cause it’s the least popular genre that people go for and that’s exactly what you needed solitary. You went ahead and sat down on the floor, back against the wall.
“Fuck!” you brought them with you. His flowers. You were in such a hurry you forgot to give it back to him. The entire reason you did what you did- sneaking to the Principal’s office, stealing her roses, hiding under the smallest place possible with the hottest person you’ve known, only to take it with you. What’s happening?
(if all goes well, part 2 is waiting my loves, pls let me know what you think, ily and thank you for making it to the end)
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