#harry is the only person who is excited for the baby
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No One Wants To Die In The End.
Harry Styles x fem!reader
Summery: United through grief, Harry and Y/n have to navigate the same fates they witnessed as young children as understanding adults. After all, no one wants to die in the end, we can only hope death comes easy for us.
“Has anyone ever survived beyond the death rattle breathing?”
I hear my mother ask in a hushed tone, the nurse who came to send my grandma away giving her a tight lipped smile.
I sit on the bed pretending not to be able to hear them, pretending the sound of my grandma choking on her own saliva is normal and the staggering of her breathing between heavy wheezes isn’t concerning while I tell her all about what I learned in fourth grade.
She doesn’t remember me, not much anyway. Ever since the illness started taking pieces of her brain, I’ve been stuck in time. She only knows my name now, and my mom warned me on the way here today not to cry if she couldn’t even remember that. It was her illness forgetting, not my beloved grandma.
Mom says she loved me with all my heart, and that once the illness passes through her, she’ll remember me again fondly. I’ll get to tell her all about my life and growing up and she’ll understand what I’m talking about. She won’t give me the blank stare she does now while I hold her hand, and her skin won’t be so frail.
“We usually recommend getting everything in place by the end of the day. Gather her papers and say your goodbyes. We can’t guarantee anything with how much longer she’ll hold out for.” The nurse says, and though my mom doesn’t cry, I can see her skin hugging her throat constricting it and the soft fluttering of her wet eyelashes.
My mom pulled me away soon after, telling me to say goodbye. This time felt different though, even at age nine I knew that. So I told my grandma I’d be back, even if I wasn’t sure just because it always made her smile, and I promised to keep dancing around in my pajamas before breakfast like she loved.
That day at school, the one after I left my grandma with hundreds of promises to live freely and trust with my heart, I found my mother sat out on the front steps by our old white porch with her head in my hands.
“Hi mama. Can I go to Megans?” I had asked her cheerfully, excited about seeing my best friend, my neighbor and my sister.
Mom had this sad look in her eyes, one that told me to come close without her having to say it. And as I stood between her bent knees and felt her hands on my hips, I saw her shake her head.
“Y/n/n, grandma didn’t make it, baby.” She declared softly, and at the time I didn’t know how to process it, the idea of someone being gone forever. As mom told me how she had only left for a minute to go home and shower and came back to my grandma unresponsive in her sleep, I didn’t think about the fact that my grandma’s laugh would fade with the years, but rather how sad it was that she had to go alone. I prayed selfishly under my breath that I would have someone’s hand to hold when I went, that my rotting body would mean more than any shower ever could.
I didn’t tell mom this, my feelings on the death of grandma, the death of her mom, so I did what I knew how to do best, and I ran, begging softer this time to be able to go across the street just until dinner.
When I got there, I was greeted by Megan, and she looked sad. That’s how most people in my life seemed to look these past few hours, ever since the way my grandma breathed changed.
She pulled me into a hug and cried on my shoulder, promising to be there for me always, that it would get better. At the time I didn’t get it, why my best friend as a child would feel so much grief for a woman she barely knew, how she could feel so much more than I did, but grief hits differently in every person, I wished that someday I’d be able to process it openly instead of suppressing it somewhere I’d never find it. I wished that someday I’d learn how to cry.
Grandma didn’t get a funeral, they stuffed her ashes into a pretty vase with golden birds and her favorite flowers and held the wake early in the morning. Most of her friends I’d never met. It was a small service, a slow one. I spent most of my time playing hide and seek with my cousins and stealing the mints the funeral home left out for guests while my mother cried shaking each guests hand.
“How should we send out the letters?” My mom whispered to my father quietly, like it was something she didn’t want her children to know about.
“What’s the difference? Word spreads fast about people like him.”
People like him, that’s how my dad worded it. People like him, veterans who fought in a war they couldn’t even remember by the end of their lives and refused to replace the old wood paneling on their living room walls from the eighties.
My grandpa was the definition of people like him, he had lived enough lives to grow in white hairs by fourteen years old. Fighting alongside Elvis in the war and dancing with his dying wife in the afternoon.
I never met grandma, my dad said cancer took her before I was born, he says that’s why my name is the way it is, she picked it. But, I did meet grandpa.
He had white hair and a soft stomach from all the Swedish meatballs he made in his spare time. War does funny things like that to a man, make someone so against cooking love the simplicity of it, the safety of food consuming him.
I never really liked his Swedish meatballs, I didn’t like how he made them without sauce, when I was ten my world revolved around marinara sauce.
When I was twelve years old, I remember missing the softness of my grandpas stomach when he hugged me and the lingering smell of Swedish meatballs in his kitchen at dinner time. Which was weird because I never liked it before, but maybe my nose had changed while grandpa was changing in his own ways.
Cancer seemed to run in the family, something that was so small nobody ever suspected it was invading their bodies until the doctors became frantic to get it out.
My grandpa has bright white hair before his treatment, and small silver glasses perches on his swollen nose while he sat in his old brown chair and watched his grandkids school plays through the CD’s my parents would send him.
What a lonely life to live as he got older. The death of his wife and the absence of his grandchildren as they became less and less interested in family time and more focused on running outside freely with their friends.
I was so sidetracked I didn’t even know when grandpa died right away. Not until my father sat down on the coffee table in front of the couch where I laid with my mother rubbing his back slowly, a heavy look on his wrinkled face.
“Grandpa passed last night, Harry. He loved you very much.”
I didn’t cry as my father spoke, simply nodding before walking to my room to toy with my baseball cards and gameboy. I didn’t cry thinking about his passing, which confused me because I was twelve. I understood what death meant and how there was no one who had the power to reverse it, but I felt incapable of crying.
I went to school the next morning like my parents hadn’t told me the news, and my history teacher pulled me out into the hall during second period. He looked sad for me, his hands on my shoulders as he told me he would give me all the time I needed, not to try snd jump back into normalcy during such a tough time.
It made me feel embarrassed, which felt weird considering the context. I felt fine, completely indifferent to something I should have been breaking down over. But I guess grief is weird like that, and I wish I had the strength to be weak.
Grandpa had a big funeral, open casket with formal attire. He didn’t look like grandpa with all that makeup on him. I wanted to open his eyelids to see the colors in his eyes one last time. But that’s unacceptable to do, so I simply kneeled by the casket and prayed for him.
A big black limo took us from the boiling hot church to the graveyard where uniformed men loaded their guns and fired at the sky in honor of my grandpa. The smoke smelled like the low tide at the beach, and some people I’d never seen before sobbed a few rows behind me.
A lot of people showed up for grandpa, veterans from around the country and school friends from when he still had all his youth. Looking around at the crowd, I hoped I too would be able to make such a big impact on so many people. I selfishly prayed under my breath that one day I’d too have a large funeral. That people would care enough to come and cry for me because I would matter that much.
“When did you find out?” Harry asked softly, his large hand capturing mine in a paw-like grip over my knuckles.
I swallowed, wondering when I suspected it in comparison to when I finally got the guts to ask someone for help.
“I’ve known for a while, probably since I was nine. It runs in the family, you know? All these health issues that eat away at our brains?” I laughed, but neither of us found it funny, not when I ran my fingers through my hair to calm down and chunks cane out between my knuckles.
“I just thought I’d be gifted more time, thought biology would be kinder to my bones.”
Harry looks at me with a broken stare, one that hits me in the heart. We both tear up, but neither of us cry. We are our parents, we are the spitting image of them sitting us down to break the news. But at least they went peacefully, right? I know no peace, but still I don’t cry for myself, I feel too pathetic to even try.
“Did I do something wrong?” I ask, looking bitterly at the youthful green eyes in front of me, how his curly hair seems even more vibrant than nearly a decade ago. He ages backwards and I am already one foot out of the door.
Harry shakes his head.
“You did everything right.” He tells me, fingers pulling the hair from my hands to hide it behind his back.
“Then why do I feel like I have?”
“Nobody wants to die in the end, Y/n/n. It’s a game of chance, each day we live we gamble on how long we have left. Some people search for that end and others stumble on it accidentally, it’s just the chances.”
When he puts it like that, it makes me feel even worse, knowing how quickly I’ll be gone. How I’ve failed my future children I’ll never get to have, my husband who would have loved me I’m sure, and my poor old dog who waits by the food bowl only to find it empty each day I’m gone.
“I don’t like these chances.” I laugh with tears in my eyes, hands holding onto his as our forehead touch, my best friend holding me like no one ever has, not even Megan, who had long grownup into a woman I barely knew, a friend who drifted from me when we were thirteen and cried to her mother about how she missed me when she was sixteen.
Megan held me when my grandma died that day when I was nine, and I was confused as to why she was so sad, but with Harry holding me now, I understand it all better.
“I’m only twenty nine, Harry. At least my grandmothers dementia took away the intense pain of remembering what she was leaving behind.”
“And she lived not knowing who her daughter was for the rest of her life. She must have been so alone.”
I look down at my lap, my palms still pressed against his.
“I’d never forget you, even if my memory starts to go. I’ll never forget you because you’re too important to forget.” Harry smiles when I say that, pulling his hands away from mine to tap his chest quietly.
“And I’d never forget you, even when I’m old and crazy. I’ll keep photos of us on my walls and talk to them when I get bored.” He promised me, the dull light from the sun making the once lavish room feel less like a clean living room and more like a cold hospital.
As the months pass, my hair has been traded for one of Harry’s favorite hats. My shirts switched out for backless gowns with blue dots on the paper like material. My arms are not decorated with the same ink as Harry, but wires and tubes that come from the table beside my hospital bed.
I am twenty nine, but I must look about sixty now with how tired I am from simply trying to steal back the life that was ripped from me unfairly.
And as I fight to keep up with the beeping of the monitors hooked up beside me, I feel my throat rejecting my saliva and my sick coughs stuck behind my teeth.
I heat the same cracking sounds that my grandmother made when I was nine, and I feel relaxed knowing now that it doesn’t hurt to breathe this way, not right now anyway.
And in the silence I can hear an echo of my mother’s words from outside my door, her feminine voice exchanged for the deep one I’d grown rather fond of.
“Has anyone ever survived beyond the death rattle breathing?”
Harry asks in a hushed tone, the nurse different but her answer just the same.
“We usually recommend getting everything in place by the end of the day. Gather her papers and say your goodbyes. We can’t guarantee anything with how much longer she’ll hold out for.”
It’s happening again, the spirit leaving my bones to join everyone I’ve ever loved before, my father and my grandma. My mother and my old cousins. I only wished I didn’t have to leave Harry behind, I wished I could dance with him in our college dorms just one more time like we used to, and set fire to the box mac and cheese just one last time.
I remember everything about Harry, the nurse warning that my image of him might waver as my blood begins to slow under the skin. She tells him not to worry when my skin gets cold, it’s natural for people to cool down as their heart gives out.
Harry comes in and holds my hand, pretending the sound of my breathing doesn’t bother him and the sound of me choking on my own saliva is normal and the staggering of my breathing between heavy wheezes isn’t concerning while he swears to every single higher power he can think of that I’ll be okay.
And I believe him.
Because while he holds my hand in death, he’s fulfilled the one wish I prayed so hard for a a kid. The one selfish wish I made for myself in a time of need.
When I was nine, standing between my mothers legs with my nails between my teeth I prayed selfishly under my breath that I would have someone’s hand to hold when I went, that my rotting body would mean more than any shower ever could.
And here Harry was nearly two decades later, holding my hand and promising serenity in the afterlife.
What he doesn’t know is that I am one of the lucky ones. Even after my heart has stopped, I am given one last gift as an apology for such a short life. I am given an extra second of my brain living on, the soft cries of “I love you’s” from Harry the last thing I hear as my dying gasp is cut short from my death rattle breathing.
I have a small service, Harry and some college friends standing in line shaking the hands of the few guests who walk by to look at my body. My nephews and nieces place hide and seek with each other until the ceremony was over, mints stuffed deep in their pockets as they filed out of the funeral home like nothing had happened.
Being famous is weird, especially after a loved one has passed.
We send out prayers to the families of those affected, the media says, but how has the death of this person affected Harry? How has Y/n’s slipping away crushed him beyond belief? Will he dedicate his next album to her?
They don’t care about Y/n, they only care about how she makes a good headline for their companies, and it makes me sick to think about. How they profit off of my grief while I try to stop memorizing the sound of her broken sigh as she went.
I wonder if I was enough for her during her final days. If my touch was enough to cure her for just a brief second.
It’s no wonder I turned to move-on pills. Ones that lift me up and break me down further until I am face up on the bathroom floor we once shared, my eyes wide as I choke on my breathing and count how many times the lights multiply as I look up to the sky.
It’s not a shock that the headlines are out by the end of the day, the sirens enough to alert all of Hollywood of my dying dreams and my perfect execution.
My family stands in a line while they put my casket into the hearse, makeup on my face like they put on my grandpa, I dan barely recognize myself as I watch the funeral service from another space.
And as they bury me under the ground, the media announces their grief and well wishes to all that attended and the millions watching from their televisions.
As a kid, I hoped I too would be able to make such a big impact on so many people. I selfishly prayed under my breath that one day I’d too have a large funeral. That people would care enough to come and cry for me because I would matter that much.
But now that it’s happening, I only care for one thing, I only asked for one thing in the letter I left behind. Lay me beside my best friend, so I can keep holding her hand through death, and we can laugh in the afterlife like we did when we were healthy, happy, and together.
#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#yn x harry#harry x reader#harrystyles#harry styles#hslot harry#yn x harrystyles
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Fic where Sirius gets his freedom post-POA and Remus continues teaching at Hogwarts, and then one year Sirius knocks Remus up, and instead of his students being excited about it, everyone gets so mad because now their best/favorite teacher is going to be out of commission! At exam time too! And then he’s going to take leave and they’re going to have to deal with a new DADA professor!
Many angry letters are written to Sirius bemoaning his bad timing. Hermione refuses to speak to him for months.
#look see sometimes i make wolfstar posts!#but only in universes where remus proves that he's a worthy partner for sirius#imp fic prompt#anyway someone write this#wolfstar#harry is the only person who is excited for the baby#he's READY to be a big brother
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cozy mornings w bog and baby bog
button nose, harry lewis.
summary: harry lets you have a lie in (somewhat) whilst he tends to your little one in the morning
warnings: literally just fluff overload.
notes: literally couldn't come up w a baby name to save my life LMFAO so this had to do 😭
"go back to sleep, i'll take care of her," harry mumbled, with a kiss to your cheek as he got out of bed and made his way to the nursery. it had just gone past 8 in the morning, but you had a long night prior so harry took it upon himself to do the mornings that you would usually have with your little one.
too tired to argue, you hummed in response, cosying back into your duvet as harry stretched out of bed, making the short walk to the nursery. the baby monitor was still in his hand, and he seemed to have forgotten that as he raised his hand to rub his eye. "fuck's sake," he mumbled.
slowly creaking the door open, harry smiled hearing the soft coos from his baby girl, seemingly making convo with herself and also wide awake.
"hi, angel," he softly spoke, leaning over into her cot to lift her out. upon seeing her father's face, her cheeks rose as she gave him a gummy smile, kicking her feet with excitement.
once in his arms, she clung to him like he would disappear if she didn't, and harry only cuddled up to her more. "you're such an early bird," he pointed out. "definitely didn't get that from me."
she was only a few months old, and you and harry were gradually getting used to the routine of having a newborn baby. recently, you both took her to your families, both of them gushing over her and making guesses at who's personality she'd take over.
walking back to the bedroom where you lay comfortably, harry snuck back in besides you, baby still in his arms as he held her ever so close to his chest. as he brushed away some fluff from her face, her mouth seemed to latch onto his finger, his unintentional hunger test working.
luckily, harry had grabbed a pre-pumped bottle from the bottle stand before coming back to bed, and he reached over to grab it.
feeding his little one had quickly become a favourite activity of harry's. he'd always be fighting you to do it, and you never understood why. "harry, you can rest it's fine, i'll feed her." you'd say with a laugh.
"and i said it's also fine, i can feed her. or what, you don't think i can? hm?
when harry was passionate about something, it was hard for him to back down. especially when it came down to his baby girl.
her small hand held onto his as he held the bottle up for her to drink from, her eyes blinking slowly as she looked up at harry, looking all over his face.
he couldn't help the wide smile that spread on his face at the sight of her, and she mirrored it, letting go of the bottle to let out a milky babble, eliciting a similar laugh from harry.
at the sound of his voice whispering sweet nothings to her, you turned around, slowly waking up to the sight that you've grown accustomed to — harry in his father state.
it was one that you'd never grow used to, having gone from "kids aren't for me" to "she'll say my name before yours" in the space of a couple of years.
harry's eyes diverted from the tiny human in his arms to your moving body when you shifted closer to them, using an arm to prop yourself up whilst the other travelled to gently tickle her clothed foot.
placing a kiss to your forehead and repositioning your daughter so she was in a more comfortable place, harry smiled down at you lovingly.
"morning, you."
"hi," you yawned, pulling the blanket up a bit. "i could've got her, y'know."
"i know," he answered. "as much as i'd like to disturb your sleep as i always have done, i thought i'd spend some more time with her."
you laughed at him not denying his methods of disrupting your peace, albeit receiving an earful from you.
your heart could burst from the way he looked down at her, eyes full of love and happiness as a copy of his own eyes stared back at him, big and wide and crinkled at the edges from the way she smiled.
you wouldn't trade it for the world.
#wroetoshaw#wroetoshaw x reader#sidemen x reader#sidemen#wroetoshaw imagine#wroetoshaw imagines#harry lewis#harry lewis x reader
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Favorite Holiday
this follows harry and a cutie (you) through some of your favorite holidays as you guys navigate a little fun friends with benefits/situationship stitch. i feel like this took forever so sorry for my near disappearance but i hope you enjoy!! <3
**disclaimer** i'm american so i have the dates (e.g. 11/24/23) month/day/year format. just to avoid any confusion!! <3
WC: 12k.
warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, multiple instances of smut (fingering, phone sex, f receiving oral use of a vibrator, unprotected don't do it p in v), barely proofread cause i was too excited to finally post it, and a bit of angst.
March 20th, First day of Spring.
The holidays were always your favorite time of year. Every single one for that matter. Every holiday has its own special place in your heart. New Years, Easter, Christmas, etc. You loved them all the same. But you looked forward to them even more so this year. Because this year you had Harry.
Harry, who was sitting across from you right now, laughing as he animatedly tells one of his horrible but adorable jokes. You have the stupidest grin on your face, with your eyes set on how his lips form the words coming out of his mouth. You can’t seem to look away. It doesn’t help that he keeps sneaking glances at you, those suggestive eyes that only you know burning into your face.
He plans to take you home tonight, you can tell. You two have been going at this for months, the no-strings-attached sex thing. You think it’s easy enough. There’s never been any real difficulties, just the fact that you’re trying to keep it discreet.
The first kiss was at the New Years party. You were both tipsy, he confessed that he always had a little fixation on you and how you looked in “all those pretty outfits you like to wear” and you confessed that him and his “fancy british accent”, “pretty tattoos”, and “ridiculously charming personality” never failed to have you imagining kissing those incredibly soft looking lips.
He looked at you for a second, his gaze moving from your lips to your eyes as if he was trying to gauge where your head was at. Then, at the perfect timing, the clock turned twelve and your lips were intertwined. The rest is history.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you bite your lip, fighting hard to hide the smile that threatens to overtake your face. You know exactly who it is.
You pull your phone out and smirk when you read it.
H 11:34PM
Need you tonight, baby.
It’s been too long since he’s touched you, you missed it so much and he couldn’t go another day without you. You look around a little, trying to make sure no one is looking at your phone (only making yourself look more suspicious in the process) and then begin typing back.
You 11:36PM
And what do you suppose I do about that?
You look up at him when you know he’s seen the message. You smirk at him and he gives you a look that says ‘you know damn well’ but he texts back anyways.
H 11:37PM
Come to mine tonight. Let me fuck you.
As soon as you read the text your stomach erupts with butterflies, you always have an instant reaction to his words. You press your thighs together and try your best not to squirm.
He doesn’t need to know that though, so you answer with a simple,
You 11:40 PM
Ok.
You push your phone right back into your pocket and try your best to continue with the conversation that’s getting passed around the table. But thoughts of him keep creeping in. Thoughts of his voice in your ear, the feeling of him inside of you, stretching you and filling you, his hands gripping you roughly or gently, depending on how you feel, all you can think about is him.
“It’s getting late, you guys. I’m exhausted. Loved seeing you all.” you finally say, not being able to take much more of wanting something when it’s literally right in front of you and not being able to just take it.
“Me too. Got an early morning. See you.” Harry says after you, looking at you not-so-discreetly as he gets his stuff.
When you’re both outside he instantly pulls you away from the windows and kisses you. It’s hard and passionate and needy and it’s almost like he―
“Missed you.” he says in between kisses, his hands going to grip your waist tightly, like he’s yearning for the skin to skin contact.
“Yeah?” you whisper, tugging on his bottom lip which earns you a pained groan.
“Fuck. Mhm. Missed you so much. You smell good.”
You giggle at his admission about your scent and decide to spur him on even more.
“Show me. Take me home, H.”
Waking up next to Harry is something you simultaneously love and wish you never got to experience. Because when this little arrangement is over, you know you’ll miss it too much.
When he wakes up, he doesn’t treat you like his fuck buddy, he treats you like some sort of girlfriend. And you haven’t let it detrimentally affect you yet, but you know it will. And the day it does is when you’ll know you need to end this. End it before someone, scratch that, you get hurt.
“Mornin’, angel. Want some breakfast?” he says, his voice gravelly but also smooth like toffee and it sounds weird but you want to taste it.
“Mhm. Whad’ya making?” you mumble, eyeing his lips.
“Whatever you want. Kiss?”
You smile and lean up to kiss him, taken by surprise when he deepens it and pulls you over his lap. You giggle into the kiss and he smiles with a short chuckle.
“Want anything before I go make it?” he says, obviously trying to start something.
“Harry…”
“Just asking, sweetheart. You know I always want you.” he says with a kiss to your collarbone, “only you” he says softly as if it wasn’t meant to be heard.
“Stop trying to sweet talk me. Go make breakfast.” You push yourself off him and he whines, but obliges, going to make that lovely french toast he knows you want.
You sit up to look through some emails when you hear it, his phone buzzing incessantly on his counter.
You know it shouldn’t bother you, you’re just friends who happen to enjoy each other's sexual company. The idea of him having someone else that he whispers sweet nothing to in his ear just doesn't feel right to you.
You pick up the phone, keeping it face down, (not wanting to see something you know you don’t want to) and walk to the kitchen where Harry is mixing some yummy smelling batter.
“Think someone is trying to reach you.” you try to come off as cool and collected, and you almost convince yourself that you are, but you know you’re not. You curse your sensitivity and watch as he picks up the phone but puts it back down, face down, just as quickly.
“Makin’ your favorite.” He rasps out, turning around to smirk at you. He frowns when your expression isn’t one of your usual excitement.
“You okay, baby?” he inquires, setting the bowl of batter down on the counter and walking over to you. He takes your hands in his and playfully looks into your eyes with faux intensity, “tell me.”
“I’m okay, yeah. Just tired.” It’s only now that you actually wonder how many times you’ve told that lie.
“Worked you over good last night, hmm?” He smirks and you roll your eyes and smile despite yourself, “you sounded like you were having a good time.” he adds cheekily and before you can stop it a giggle breaks from your lips.
“I was.” His ability to make you feel like everything is okay with just a cheeky smile and a couple of words breaks you and mends you at the same time.
“Good girl.” he whispers against your lips, kissing you slowly and softly.
“Back to the food!” he exclaims, breaking away from you to saunter back over to the counter-top.
“Wanna be my sous chef?”
April 1st, April fools.
You never understood the fixation with men’s hands until you started sleeping with Harry.
“Fuck.” he drags out the vowel sound as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, stroking your g-spot in a way you can only describe as affectionately rough, “look at you princess, taking my fingers so fucking well.”
“H..fuck I—” you’re cut off by your own loud moan, praying that no one can hear you two. Your friend group planned a little get together given the fact that it’s april fools and you guys have nothing better to do. You all decided to host it at Harry’s place and he lasted about ten minutes trying to be a good host before he dragged you into the bathroom with a phony excuse that you’re almost sure nobody believed.
When you reach up to cover your mouth, he tuts softly and reaches up to tap three fingers against your hand, signaling he wants it off, “s’my fucking house we can be as loud as we want. You know how much I love your pretty sounds, why’re you trying to keep ‘em from me, huh? Being bad?” he says in that condescending tone that you simultaneously love and hate.
“N-no, please H. M’not being bad jus-just please.”
“Love it when you beg. Soaking me like this and I’ve only given you two fuckin’ fingers–”
“Gonna cum.” you interrupt him with your frantic moan, he’s always very adamant about you asking for permission. He needs to be in control like that. He needs to have that control over your body and your pleasure. He thrives on it. “Can I please, please cum?”
“Fuck. You’re sqeezin’ me so fucking tight. Gonna make a mess all over my fingers, baby? Give it to me.”
“Yes, yes yes” you feel that white hot pleasure building in what feels like every nerve in your body and your muscles start to jerk as you cope with all the pleasure overriding your system. You ramble out a couple praises mixed in with Harry’s name and your hand tangles in his hair which he groans at. You pray to every god that you can think of that nobody downstairs can hear the way he’s ruining you.
“There you go, baby.” he doesn’t stop with his fingers, keeping a rhythm that only intensifies your release. When you choke on a moan that sounds more like a sob, he kisses your temple gently and soothes you with his voice, “I know, I know. Feels too good, doesn’t it?”
You’re not sure if he expects a response, but even if he did you’re not in any state to give one. His fingers have turned your brain into a mushy mess.
“You’re okay darling. Always making me so proud.” He whispers as you come down, slowly pulsing his fingers inside you still to help you ride it out.
“Jesus christ.” you sigh and he chuckles softly.
“What was our excuse again?” he asks before leaning down to your lips to kiss you, his kiss full of the lust that’s swimming in his forest eyes.
“Dunno, something about getting the movies that we were gonna watch,” you giggle softly against his lips and he smiles.
You get some movies from his bedroom so that you don’t seem too suspicious and go back downstairs to your friends. The heat of embarrassment makes itself known every time someone asks you or Harry what took so long or what distracted you up there.
“What could you guys possibly have been doing for eight whole minutes?” a friend of yours asks incredulously with a joking tone.
“We couldn’t find the movie we wanted. Duh.” Harry shoots back with a quickness, smirking softly when he looks over to you. And he can read your body like a book. He knows you’re a little embarrassed at the idea of people finding out that you guys have been fooling around.
You’re playing with the lobe of your ear as everyone takes in Harry’s response and laughs. Someone tells another joke that just amplifies the laughter but Harry’s only looking at you. Playing with the lobe of your ear is one of your many obvious tells with your anxiety. He makes a mental note to check on you later.
During the movie he plops himself right in between you and one of your friends, making both of you giggle. He swings his arm around your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear. The heat and tickle of his whisper sends a shiver down your spine and you know that the position you guys are in is less than discreet but you can’t really find it in yourself to care when he’s close like this.
“You okay?” he asks in an earnest tone, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder for good measure. You nod softly and he smiles, softly tugging you closer.
April 9th, Easter.
Easter was always a fun holiday, especially for your god children, you always loved to see the little kids run around in search of the little painted eggs. It reminded you of a time when you were in their position, blissful and young. You often refer to those as the ‘good old days’, but you can’t quite complain about how you ended up.
You’re talking to your sister’s baby boy when your phone rings, you pull it out to see a picture of Harry sleeping in bed and you smile, you remember when you took that picture.
“Hello?”
“Hi, pretty. Where are you?” he sounds kind of breathless, like he’s been running a mile.
“At an Easter egg hunt. You?”
He chuckles darkly before speaking. “Dunno. Just missin’ you.” he says. You squint your eyes in suspicion.
“Missing me?” you say with the same suspicion laced in your voice. You’re starting to understand what he’s playing at.
“Missing your sweet cunt. God, the way you taste. Need you on my tongue.” he spews out in what seems like one breath.
“Jesus Christ, Harry. What has gotten into you?” you hiss, quickly getting up out of your seat and away from prying eyes and ears.
“God, I can almost imagine it.” you hear his whisper and the neediness radiating off of his voice makes you press your thighs together. He’s touching himself. He’s fucking his hand to the thought of your taste and it’s driving you mad. “Want you to sit on my face next time, have your thighs shaking around my head, your pussy drenchin’ me―fuck!” he whimpers.
“Harry…” you say, it’s supposed to be some type of warning but the arousal starting to pool in your underwear has your voice coming out shaky and unstable.
“Love it when you say my name like that. Again. Say it again, please baby.” he begs, shamelessly. You can tell he’s close, the strain in his voice, the crackly over-the-phone sound of the wetness of his strokes.
“Harry I―”
“Fuck fuck fuck, I fuckin’ need you. Please, please.” he keeps whispering the word “please” under his breath, gasping out moans and whines, “gonna cum, gonna cum.”
You decide there's no harm in spurring him on a bit, “come for me, Harry.”
You hear a broken “fuck” before a series of his beautiful sounds fill your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught of stimulation, butterflies swarming around in your tummy.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah fuck.” you whisper and you hear his laugh on the other end.
“Sorry―Sorry I um― called you like that. I just, fuck, really needed you. Was so fuckin’ hard. Y’have no idea.” he breathes out.
“I…um. I missed you too.” you don’t know why you cringed at yourself after saying it, but it’s almost like Harry can read your mind because he chuckles and speaks in a reassuring tone, “that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. When will I see you again missy?”
“Dunno. I’ve been a little busy with work and…stuff. I’ll have my people call your people to see when I can fit you into my schedule.” you joke, biting your lip softly and toying with your necklace as you wait for his response.
When you hear a soft laugh a smile is immediately brought to your face. That laugh could melt you. His voice is like velvet when he speaks, “I’ll have you soon. We both know you can’t stay away. You need me for my slutty waist and washboard abs as you usually say.”
You try your best to hold in your laugh so as to not inflate his ego, but it slips out before you have permission and both of you are laughing before you feel a delicate tap on your leg. You’re met with your nephew when you turn around and look down to find the source of the touch.
“Can we pway more bunnies?” your nephew says to you and you nod softly, “just give me one second honey.” He nods and walks back to the place you guys were sitting and you smile as you watch him.
“I’ve gotta go but I’ll text you, alright?”
“See you soon, petal.”
May 31st, Memorial Day.
“That kiss the cook apron is really working for you, Harry I’ve got to say.” you giggle at your friend Jamal’s shout at Harry.
It’s another one of your favorite holidays and you and your friends are all at the beach. The sun is beaming on your skin and warming you in the best way while the breeze balances it out, cooling you in the places needed. “Take it off! Take it off!” you join the chant, having trouble even speaking in between laughs.
“You guys are fucking ridiculous” Harry chuckles. He smirks and reaches behind him to pretend to take the apron off, laughing when everybody’s cheers get louder.
When the food is done and everyone is full, the girls lay on the sand while the guys are across from you guys making sandcastles like children. You look over at Harry and feel your stomach twist in a way that it’s been doing recently that you can’t stand. He just looks so good. You don’t know how else to explain it. Especially in this light, the warm sunset creating a golden glow against him. The soft amber tones kissed his skin and the sunshine he usually radiated with his personality seemed to radiate physically, as if he was being infused with the sun’s very essence.
You couldn’t stop yourself from sitting up to go and talk to him. He looked up at you in the position he was in on his knees and smiled, his eyes squinted from the direct sunlight.
“Hey. Fancy going for a walk?” the way he says it seems like he’s been waiting for the opportunity to do so. The sun shifts and his expression softens as he awaits your response.
You nod and put your hand out for him to take it, and he rolls his eyes playfully but takes your hand anyway. You try not to think about what the rest of the group might think as you walk away with him, hand in hand. It’s not lost on you that you guys look like a couple, but Harry has always been touchy with his friends, some might say too touchy, so you pray that they’ll just attribute it to that.
He swings your hands as you guys walk, and constantly rakes his fingers through his damp hair with his free hand. You kind of wish he wouldn’t because you love the way his curls fall over his face.
“I feel like we’ve both been so busy. I haven’t gotten to see you as much as I want to.” You stop walking, you guys are a bit of a good distance away from everyone else and he’s starting to get more affectionate with you. His hands trail up to your arm to cradle your neck and he rubs your jaw affectionately. He leans down to ghost his lips against your neck and whispers, “I’ve missed you.”
There’s something so poetic about the way his voice carries with the wind and the distant sound of the waves crashing around you guys. You melt into his hands when his lips finally make actual contact with your skin and you have to fight hard to suppress the whimper that threatens to leave your mouth.
“Tell me you’ll come home with me tonight. Please.” He suckles on your neck gently, causing the moan you were suppressing to finally force its way out.
“I will. Anything you want.” you pant out, tangling your hands into his hair. You sigh when he pulls away from you but you can’t complain when you get the view of the sun reflecting in his eyes. It feels like you’re frozen in time as you look at him. The sun has set a bit more and the atmosphere is colored a fiery orange that bleeds more into a red. His eyes mimic the water in the way they glisten and his pink lips almost make you weak just looking at them. Especially considering the way those lips were just all over you.
Harry’s staring at you in awe, the way the deep colored rays dance against your skin made it seem like a thousand stars fell from the sky just to adorn you. You’ve always been beautiful, but in this very moment, you’re transcendent. To him it’s like you constantly exceed any expectation for beauty he could possibly have. Everything about you is like a masterpiece to him. He wonders why it took him so long to grasp just how weak the sight of you makes him. He gives you one soft kiss and then pulls back too quickly. He takes your hand and starts walking with you back to the rest of the group.
Looking at him now, you wonder why it took you so long to grasp just how deep you are in this. Having thoughts of freezing time and staying in this moment so you can look at him forever are dangerous thoughts. Thoughts that almost make it seem like you’re in love.
Dangerous.
October 31st, Halloween.
“Jesus, babe.” Harry brings his finger up and moves it in a circular motion, “do a spin for me.”
You giggle and spin around, making sure to do it slowly so he can really take in the way this dress hugs your figure in all the right ways. He whistles and you can’t stop the laugh from leaving your lips.
Ever since your realization at the beach, things have been so simple between you two. You thought it would complicate things, but everything has been perfect. So incredibly perfect. It’s almost like he knew that you were starting to feel something more, the way he’s been treating you these past couple months is so different. Different in a good way. The amount of attention and care that he’s devoted to you makes your stomach with more butterflies than you can handle.
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you tell him, walking up closer to him, having to look up at him. Your confidence wanes the slightest bit at his intense eye contact when he looks down at you with an amused smirk on his face.
“Yeah? I look good enough for you?” he quips, dangerously close to your lips as he speaks, “I was worried you know? S’hard to measure up to you.”
Ever the flirt, he is.
“You’re overdoing it now.” you deadpan and back away from him, making him throw his head back in a cackle. It was Harry’s idea to go to the Halloween party in matching costumes. You were a little shocked at first but you’d never turn down an opportunity to match with the most fashionable man you know.
“Our ride is gonna be here in about….” he looks down at an imaginary watch on his wrist, “fifteen minutes. Whadya say we sneak a quickie in?” he smirks at you and chuckles when you roll your eyes.
“It’s this fucking outfit,” he practically growls, his hands palm at your ass, “driving me insane, baby.”
“And whose idea was it?” you tilt your head as you speak, making a point to move his hands from your ass to your waist. “I’m not gonna be late because of you again, Harry. Keep your hands at appropriate places at all times.” you scold him.
“Yes it was my idea,” he sighs. “A very good but painful idea that I take full credit fo—” a car beeping outside interrupts his sentence and his brow furrows while you smirk at him.
Right…fifteen minutes.
Getting in the car and seeing all your friends dressed in all their Halloween outfits already has you excited for the rest of the night. Harry was very adamant about your seating arrangement when the car got too cramped, eagerly offering up his lap as a seat replacement for you. You of course took it, and you’ve spent the whole ride fighting your body’s natural reaction to his little teasing touches.
You want to kill him by the time you finally arrive at the party. He knew exactly what he was doing in that car, he knows the effect his touches have on you and you know he’s doing this as “payback” for how you’re torturing him in your outfit.
It’s not hard to make your rounds and do all the socializing that you’ve equipped yourself for before Harry is immediately stealing you away from people.
“Wanna dance with you.” is all he says, dragging you to the dancefloor. You look around as you guys settle, the vibe around is nothing short of raunchy. Looking at all of the other couples around you, you can tell that they all want to take each other home and tear each other’s clothes off. After cooling off with a couple drinks and conversations, you weren’t exactly in that mindset anymore, but you have a feeling that Harry is about to take you right back there.
His hands smooth down your waist, boldly cupping your ass and he slowly grinds against him to the rhythm of the song, you feel his gentle breath before you hear his voice. “You’re killing me, petal. Been picturing tearing this dress off of you all. Fucking. Night.”
Your breath catches in your throat and you let his hands lead you as you push your head further into his neck, “M’not doing anything though. What’s got you this worked up?” You pout at him condescendingly. He knows feigning innocence when he’s needy like this is your favorite thing to do. It makes you feel a sort of power that you usually don’t get with him to hear him say that you make him into a mess.
“You fucking know, baby. You know what you’re doing to me.” he’s whining out his words at this point, and you thank god that the music is as loud as it is so everyone else can’t hear how this man is falling apart in your hands.
“Can’t think of anything else. The only thought in my mind is watching you come on my cock. God it’d be so easy to just fuck you right here. Know you’ve already made a mess of yourself. It’d be so easy to give you what I know you need right now.”
You’re panting at this point, delirious with pleasure. It should be illegal the way he can talk you into almost anything with that voice. You don’t care about anything or anyone else around you, all you can think about is how desperately you need him to quell that ache that’s building inside you.
“Fuck. Take me home. Take me home right now, H.”
As soon as he hears you he’s moving. He doesn’t even bother to let your friends know where you’re going. He just drags you outside and starts tapping on his phone to get you guys an uber.
The ride to his house is tortuous. He sits you in his lap almost immediately and his hands find a home on your hips, making a point to drag you slowly back and forth across his thigh.
Every roll against his thigh drives you further and further into oblivion and you don’t think you can wait any longer to get what you so desperately need. You suppose you’ll let him have his fun though, his little taste of “payback” for how bad he’s been aching this whole night.
The second the driver stops, it’s like Harry couldn’t get you off of his lap fast enough (something you never thought you’d say) and he’s dragging you up to the house. He wanted to kiss you as soon as you got out of the car but he knew you wouldn’t appreciate doing that in front of the driver. No matter how turned on you are.
As soon as you guys step into the house, he closes the door behind him and his lips are already on you. Your mind is instantly turned into mush with the way he claims your lips. It’s like he can’t even wait long enough to get you upstairs. He’s immediately getting down on his knees and kissing and sucking his way up your thighs, “so fucking beautiful and soft. You feel like a fucking dream. Dreamy girl.”
He trails his hands slowly upwards and takes a hold of your thin lace panties. Although he pulls them down gently, you can see the impatience in his eyes and feel it in his grip. He’s beginning to lose his resolve and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
Your skirt is pushed up and resting on your hips before you can blink. The way you’ve been pressing your thighs together since you got in the house has been deemed useless when he forcefully pushes them apart, his hands gripping the flesh so hard you fear it might leave marks.
“Wanna feel you come on my tongue. Missed it so much. Will you let me?” he sucks marks that only the two of you will be able to see in your inner thighs. You can barely find it in you to answer his question. Everything about the way he’s touching you, to his voice, to the smell of his cologne and your arousal mixed together is heightening all of your senses and making your brain short circuit.
You nod hoping that would be enough, but you should’ve known better. “Words. You know better, baby.” he tsks, continuing his kisses along your sensitive skin.
“Yes, yes. Please.” Is all you can manage to get out. The second the first yes leaves your lips, his mouth is exactly where you need it the most. He’s not wasting any time tonight, getting straight to the point of making you lose yourself on his tongue. Usually he drags it out, edges you or teases you with his tongue, but he’s aching so bad. He needs to be inside you before he loses his mind.
His tongue swirls messily against your clit and you’re so sensitive that you tense with almost every stroke. He’s moaning against you in a way that you would find obnoxious if it wasn’t him, but because it is him, it just adds to your pleasure. He’s behaving as if he’s a man starved. As if he’s been a dessert and you’re that stream of water that he’s been yearning for.
You tangle your hand into his hair and let your head tip back against the door. You can’t be bothered to worry about the volume of the moans you’re letting out and how they travel through the empty house. You’re too consumed in how good he’s making you feel. That’s the good thing about having a sexual partner like this. You’ve had so much time together and he’s made the most diligent effort to learn your body. He knows every signal, every tick, every indication. And he uses it all to his advantage.
You sob lowly when he slides his fingers into your heat, immediately curling them up to hit that spot that makes you shake. You pull your head off of the door to look down at him, only to find his eyes already on you. His intense green eyes bore into yours and it’s almost as if they’re communicating with your eyes. He urges you to let go for him with that unspoken language that you’re now fluent in.
He fucks you deep with his fingers while his tongue continues it’s very skillful ministrations. Every time he moans into your cunt the vibrations just push you further and further into bliss and you’re almost embarrassed with how close you are so quickly. The sounds you’re making are bordering on pornagraphic when you start clenching down hard on his fingers you know you’re a goner.
He pulls away to egg you on with his voice, “there you go, baby. Getting so fucking tight for me.” you moan at his words and nod. As much as you love the way his tongue was working magic on you, the one thing that will always get you to fall over the edge is his voice.
He’s evil, you decide. He’s evil for the way he toys with your body like he owns it. And at this point, he does own it.
His tongue is back on your clit to offer you that final push off of the edge, he flicks his tongue and sucks with a pressure that you can only describe as mind numbing. Every movement he makes just makes the release that’s brewing even stronger.
A complete mess of syllables leaves your bitten lips as the white hot pleasure consumes you. It feels like a tidal wave swallows you up in its strength and you see no way of coming up for air. You choke out a series of moans that Harry only groans at while he continues to softly lick at your clit and thrust his fingers inside you, like he intends to keep you under.
The hands that were in his hair tug hard as the soft licks start to become a little too much for you to handle. A slightly higher pitched sound leaves him and he relents reluctantly, “can never get enough of your cunt, petal. Never.” He leaves wet kisses all over your thighs in between more praises that you barely register with all the pleasure swimming in your mind.
One thing you can register though, is how bad you need him inside you, “take me upstairs, Harry.”
He stands up almost immediately at that, and he smirks before leaning down to pick you up bridal style. You giggle at his antics and he only chuckles, kissing your cheek as he leads you two up the stairs.
November 23, Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving is by far your favorite holiday. The way you get to spend time with your family, the (amazing) food, just the atmosphere of being happy and thankful with people you love, you look forward to it every year. You’re chilling next to your sister on the couch at your parents house, laughing at one of your dad’s jokes.
You guys have already eaten and you're completely full and sated as you enjoy the company of your family.
The amount of times you’ve checked your phone should be considered embarrassing, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop. You invited Harry over for dinner. And it’s really no big deal, he’s been your friend for a while, long before the whole arrangement started. And he’s met your family so many times that they wouldn’t even bat an eye. His family lives in London and he’s in the U.S. for work so he’s come over for Thanksgiving plenty of times.
You feel a nudge on your shoulder and you look over at your sister who has a soft knowing smirk on her face.
Uh oh. You know that expression.
You give her a deadpanned look, “what?”
Her smile grows at the way you can read her so well and you urge her with your eyes to tell you what’s on her mind.
“So…what’s going with you and Harry?” her eyes are squinted in that specific way that tells you that she knows exactly what’s going on with you and Harry, she just wants to hear you say it. “It’s just…you guys have been posting each other a lot, tagging each other in posts and all that. And the last time I saw you guys, you seemed super domestic.”
You don’t doubt that. Even though you and Harry still place yourselves under the “friends with benefits” label, you guys have gotten way closer emotionally. You’re always together now. You sleep over at his house almost every night, sometimes without even sleeping together. You guys have been glued at the hip ever since Halloween. And it’s great, honestly. It feels great.
“It’s nothing, it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders and a sheepish look graces your face, “I think I sort of…like him”
Your sister can barely register what you said before your head is snapping to the sound of the doorbell ringing. You look back at your sister and she smirks at you softly with a soft raise of her eyebrow.
Your mom gets up to open it and immediately shrieks in surprise, “Harry! I had no idea you were coming!” you smile at the genuine joy in her voice and then at Harry’s voice when he speaks, “she didn’t tell you I was coming?” You can hear the smile in his voice and it immediately brings the one you were trying to hide back on your face.
“And you brought a date!” your mom exclaims.
Your smile drops.
Your heart follows your smile and you immediately feel a pit deep in your stomach that twists and twists until you can’t take it anymore.
A hot wave of embarrassment comes next when your sister tenses next to you. You had just told her that you actually might like someone, that you actually might like Harry. And here he is with a date.
Your mom steps aside to let them in and your stomach twists even tighter. She’s beautiful. And you’re sure she’s kind and charismatic and perfect and everything Harry would want and deserve in a woman.
You don’t even wanna see the look on your sister’s face, you don’t want to see the pity in her eyes when she realizes that you’re completely hopeless.
You feel tears gathering in your waterline and you blink them away. You almost want to feel angry. He brought her here? At your parents house? You know that technically you two don’t owe each other anything but there’s a level of respect that you figure one is supposed to have when sleeping with someone.
You suddenly feel scared to see his face. You wonder if he’ll look guilty, or completely indifferent. You honestly don’t know which one is worse.
You’re even more nervous that he’ll see your face and realize how much this is hurting you. How much it’s hurting you to realize that, although you two are friends, he never felt for you what you felt for him. That you were just a warm body he used when he needed it, and you happily offered it to him. Over and over.
A plethora of emotions hit you at once, and after you cycle through confusion, sadness, and anger, you just feel stupid.
Your mom says your name and you’re very harshly snapped out of your thoughts, “figured you’d surprise us for the holiday, huh?” your mom has the most gentle smile on your face and it almost makes you crumble more. You look over to your mom and you immediately feel his intense gaze on you. That same intense gaze that used to make you melt only makes all of your muscles seize in the worst way at this very moment. You refuse to meet his eyes cause you know that if you do, you’ll break.
You force a smile and pray that it’s not too obvious how you’re not even acknowledging him, “guess so, mom.”
You and your sister share a look and you communicate without words that she’ll cover for you if you have to leave. She nods at you with a knowing look and you return the look, mentally preparing yourself to lie to everyone here and say you have to go.
You pick your stuff up and get up to walk towards the door. “Harry,” you address him for the first time since he came, “thank you so much for coming. I didn’t think you’d actually make it.”
He furrows his brows and leans towards you, extending his arm out to pull you into an awkward side hug, “of course I’d make it.” you feel yourself tense as you feel his touch and you hope he doesn’t notice. You nod against his shoulder and sigh. His cologne envelopes your senses and you bask in the comfort of his warm hug. You’re utterly torn between the two feelings it offers you, a feeling of discomfort conflicting with a feeling of home.
“How are you? You look lovely.” he kisses your cheek and the all too familiar feeling of his stubble rubbing against your skin threatens to bring a new wave of tears to your eyes.
“I’m fine–” you barely get the words out before he’s interrupting you. A huge smile graces his face and he looks down at the girl he’s got his arm around, squeezing her shoulder gently before he speaks and you already know what he’s going to say.
“I want you to meet—”
You can’t do it.
“I’d love to talk but I’ve got a work emergency and I really need to go.” you watch his face drop. His eyebrows furrow tightly together and a frown graces his face. You can tell he’s confused, he knows that you would never leave Thanksgiving early for any work emergency and you would never leave as soon as he shows up.
You go to walk but his hand leaves his date like he’s been burned by her skin and he reaches out for you, grabbing your arm tight. His eyes are swimming with an expression you can’t quite place and he squeezes your arm with a quick pulse, “where’re you going? I just got here.” his voice dips and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s hurt by you leaving. Right now you can’t even begin to worry about him being hurt with the pain radiating in your chest right now.
“S’work, H. I’m really sorry,” you turn to address the girl next to him, “it’s really nice to meet you. I’m sorry we couldn’t talk more.” and with that you’re out of there before anyone can say anything else. As soon as the door shuts behind you, you take a deep, shaky breath and bring your hand up to your neck to soothe the ache that’s developing in your jaw from holding in your tears.
You decide then and there that you need to get it together. Harry doesn’t owe you anything, you guys are strictly friends with benefits. You weren’t supposed to get attached and caught up in the strings. You’ll try your absolute best to be a mature adult about this and not take your pain out on him cause as much as this hurts you, he doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you treat people when you’re hurt.
And with that decision, you come to another. You need some time apart from Harry.
December 24, Christmas Eve.
Christmas Eve. Another one of your favorites. The anticipation and festive energy in the air felt palpable and everywhere you looked there was joy. The land outside was covered in white and the air felt crisp and cold. You loved the kind of air where it gave you little goosebumps as soon as you stepped outside.
You’re watching a cheesy romantic Christmas movie, simultaneously loving and hating it. Loving it because it’s adorable and makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, hating it because you definitely wish that the leads were you and Harry and it’s making you want to die.
Just as the male lead tells the female lead how much he’s really been crushing on her the whole time they’ve been trying to save her mom’s restaurant, your phone begins to buzz. Unfortunately for you, it’s been buzzing all day.
Harry.
Over and over again.
He’s been texting and calling and truthfully, he actually sounds really concerned.
Harry 11/28/23
Hey petal. Been trying to reach you for a bit. Is everything okay? We good?
Harry 12/1/23
Miss you. Text me.
Harry 12/3/23
Answer meeee please?
Harry 12/7/23
Feel like you’re avoiding me.
Harry 12/7/23
Did I do something? I’m sorry if I did.
Harry 12/14/23
Just please let me know you’re alright. I’m getting worried.
Harry 12/17/23
Starting to think that you’re dead.
Harry 12/22/23
I’m gonna stop bothering you now. But I miss you. Please text me back.
Harry 12/24/23
Okay I lied about the bothering thing. I need to see you and I’m really worried and if you’re dead I’m gonna ask the police to do a wellness check. So answer me.
The sheer desperation in his texts almost broke you, but for all you know he just misses the sex, and the thought of that breaks you even more.
You grab the pillow on your couch and thrust it up to your face to scream into it. The second you get done screaming you hear your doorbell and you jump. You wonder who in their right mind would be out in this weather but you pause your movie and go to open it nonetheless.
What you didn’t expect was a Harry Styles covered in snow at your door.
“Hey...can I come in? S’snowing like really hard.” It breaks your heart a little the way he added that last bit in, like you would refuse him otherwise.
“Of course. Do you want any tea?” you ask, trying to avoid the elephant in the room in case that’s not why he came here.
“No I’m― I came here to um…talk.”
Fuck.
“Okay.” You giggle, trying to lighten the mood but his sullen expression stays put.
“I’m still gonna start the kettle in case you want any―”
“Why’re you pulling away from me?” he blurts out.
“Wha―”
“I literally haven’t spoken to you in weeks. Have I done something wrong? I―I” he pauses to compose himself and your frown deepens, “I miss you. Miss you so much and I just wanted to make sure we were okay.”
You push yourself away from the couch and walk up to him, making sure to keep eye contact knowing how important it is to him,”of course we are, H.”
“You haven’t spoken to me in like a mo―”
“Shh, shh. Was just swamped with work. You know how I get all in my head.” You know you shouldn’t be lying to him, you really shouldn’t. But the way he’s talking like the idea of you purposely ignoring him breaks him, you don’t have it in you to let him suffer any longer.
He nods and you smile at him, bringing your hands up to tangle in his hair, “we’re okay. I promise.”
“Promise?” he whispers and your heart flutters.
“Yeah.” You hate lying to his face.
You start your steps to go to the kitchen but his grip on your wrist pulls you back, nearly crashing into his chest.
“Want a kiss, please.” his voice never leaves that soft whisper. You lean in to give him a soft kiss, suddenly feeling a pit in your stomach that only deepens the closer you get to him. You’ve always had a bad habit of putting someone’s comfort over yours.
“Do you want tea?” you whisper against his lips.
“Always want some fuckin’ tea.” he says with a smirk and a quiet chuckle, that joyful inflection back in his voice and that familiar sparkle back in his eyes.
When you step out of the kitchen with the tea he’s sitting on the couch in a relaxed manner, picking at the loose strings in your pillows and watching the movie you have on. His lips stretch in a gentle smile when he sees you and you force yourself to return it.
You sit down next to him and he places his hand softly on your thigh, leaning over to you to place a soft kiss on your jaw. He trails more and more down to your neck and you feel your stomach twist. Your hand shoots to his chest to halt any further movement and you rush out words in a short breath, “We can’t.” There’s a beat of silence. He backs away quickly to not make you uncomfortable and you sigh and whisper, “...I can’t”
Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze and you can tell that without an explanation your rejection stings him a little.
“Don’t you have like…a thing? With that girl you brought to Thanksgiving?” you watch his face twist tightly in confusion and you can’t bear to hear him make excuses or lie to you so you just continue to ramble, “does she even know that you’re sleeping with other people? With me? Like if I was your girlfriend I’d be pretty fucking pissed that you’re over here and touching me after bringing her to Thanksgiving of all places—”
“Shut up.” He cuts off your ramble sharply. You suck in a breath at his tone (and after speaking all those words without a break) and your chest tightens at his stern expression.
“W-what?” you fumble through the word. Never in your life have you seen him this angry. He’s looking at you with a gaze that can only be described as absolutely vexed.
“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” If there’s one thing Harry is, it’s smart. He’s absolutely not an idiot. But you absolutely are for not realizing just how well he knows you, “you’ve barely spoken to me for a month. Didn’t answer my calls, texts, not going out when you know I’d be there because you thought I’d betray your trust like that and just pop up one day with a fucking girlfriend!?” You can tell that he’s trying to control his volume and anger. The way his fist and jaw is clenched is an obvious indication.
“Well what was I supposed to think, Harry? You brought her and she was beautiful and you had your hand on her wai–”
“And you weren’t gonna let me explain myself!? I’d never do that to you. It was—We–we had a deal!” he exclaims incredulously, ducking down to meet your eyes when you try and look away.
“I know we had a deal, H. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions—” He interrupts you again and you sigh deeply.
“And I can’t believe that you would think…I thought it was different…I thought you…” he trails off, his voice getting softer as his speaking slows.
“You thought I what?” you ask urgently. He looks down at his hands and picks at the nail on his thumb. You frown softly, “you thought I what, H?”
His expression almost looks tortured as he trains his gaze on his fingers. You suddenly feel terrible. You ignored him for so long all over a simple misunderstanding. You think back to the moment that it all happened and figure you might have avoided all of this if you just let him properly introduce her like he was trying to. Your lip trembles softly at the idea of hurting him and he sighs.
“I thought you felt the same way as I did. I thought it wasn’t just a deal to you.” he admisses so very quietly. So quiet that if the TV was any louder you wouldn’t have heard it. His brows are tightly knit together and his lips are turned down into a deep pout.
Harry almost regretted it when he said it. He knows that if you truly don’t feel the same, it’ll never go back to the way it was, and he’ll lose the person he cares about the most. He’ll lose the person he loves the most. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest and he avoids looking up at your expression in fear that your expression will be less than kind.
He speaks before you can even process what he just said, “Ellie’s my cousin.” he breathes out a humorless laugh, “the girl I brought to Thanksgiving. I thought you’d love her.” the soft tone and volume of his voice remains constant.
You feel like your brain just short circuited. Harry just told you that he actually has feelings for you. That all this time he’s been thinking about you in the same way that you’ve been thinking about him. All this time.
And you’re sitting here like an idiot letting him stew in confusion and not saying a word.
“Oh my god.” you gasp like you’ve suddenly been slapped back into reality. Your hands rush over to him like they have a mind of their own with thoughts that tell them that they need to be close to him. You grasp his face in your hands and pull his head up so you can look into his eyes.
“H.” you sigh. He watches your mouth form around the word and he decides right then and there that no matter what you’re going to say next, no matter if you reject him and tell him you could never see him that way, you will always make him weak. Looking into your eyes will always break and mend him at the same time, the sound of you saying his name will always make him crumble.
“Of course I feel the same way. Are you kidding? I thought that you didn’t.” you finally, finally admit. It immediately feels like a giant weight has been lifted off of your chest and you almost wanna cry at how freeing it feels.
“Are you serious?” he laughs, although you can see that his eyes are a bit glossy. You pout softly, nodding and leaning down to envelop his lips in yours.
“I’ve always needed you, petal. Even before the sex. I need you to know that.” he speaks with conviction. He needs you to know that it’s not just the sex muddling his brain and making him attached. He really truly loves you. Everything about you.
“I know, I know H.” you nod again.
“You’ve got no fuckin’ idea how much I missed you, petal. No clue.” His voice is thick with emotion, but also filled with that familiar lust that you missed so much.
You scoot closer to him on the couch and throw your legs around his lap to straddle him, “feel like showing me?”
He chuckles darkly, his hands quickly landing on your waist. His mouth closes to form into a smirk when you blatantly offer your body up for him like this. A soft noise leaves you in reaction to the tight grip he has on your waist.
Your hips take on a mind of their own when they start to shift against him. A soft hiss followed by a groan leaves his lips. It’s like your lips are magnets the way you can’t keep them away from each other. He leans up to kiss you and the movement of your hips intensifies.
You can see it in his eyes that he’s thinking of some sort of punishment to sort out your behavior of the past month. The intensity in his expression makes you feel a sort of anxiousness that throws you for a loop. You feel a little scared, but all the excitement and anticipation just overrides that tiny bit of fear.
He leans closer to you to leave open mouthed kisses all over the exposed skin of your chest, he kisses until he reaches the fabric of your shirt and his hand falls to your ass, gripping it tightly while urging you to continue the movement of your hips against him.
“Gonna have to teach you a lesson it seems.” His voice is husky and deep when he speaks, you know that he has the capacity to absolutely ruin you tonight, and you know that he will.
He taps your hip with his fingers, his usual signal that he needs you to stand up. Your brows furrow in confusion briefly, but the confusion is gone as soon as it came when he speaks.
“Do me a favor, honey?”
You nod eagerly.
“Get out that vibrator you’ve got in your dresser, clothes off and wait for me in your room.” His voice held a velvety, sensual tone, and combined with what he said, you’re nearly weak in the knees. When you stand there for a moment, having a bit of trouble getting your body to move as fast as your brain, he urges you with a raise of his eyebrow and you immediately spring into action.
You hear his quiet murmur of “good girl” as you start to walk to your room. Every nerve in your body is buzzing with anticipation. Harry is already amazing in the bedroom with just him, imagining the pleasure you’ll feel with him and the toy is making you squeeze your thighs together and your eyes shut as you dwell in your thoughts.
You sat down on your bed (very submissively, you hope it’ll get you some brownie points) with your vibrator laying next to you. Just when you’re starting to get impatient, the door opens with Harry on the other side of it. There’s a very distinct hunger in his eyes as he looks at you, as his gaze travels the length of your body. You can tell he appreciates the way you’re sitting.
He doesn’t waste any time walking towards you and kneeling until his knees touch the floor and he’s level with where you need him the most. His hands find purchase on your thighs, immediately squeezing and prodding at them like he’s playing with his favorite toy (which he technically is), “you’re so good for me, petal. Doing as I asked.”
His eyes flick up to yours after he speaks, and the eye contact, especially when he’s got that look going, makes you melt. You’re hyper aware of the tortuous way his hands are trailing upwards. He knows the way his touch works you up no matter where it is, and he’s using it to his advantage.
A sharp gasp rips from your throat when he spreads your thighs apart. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten from just the anticipation and thought of what he’s going to do to you. The groan that he let out once he saw what a mess you’ve made is an indication that he was pleased.
“Jesus, petal. Look what you’ve done…” he stares at your center with an expression of deep desire as he reaches out a hand to trail two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on his fingertips, “messing up your sheets, baby. This all for me?”
You can’t help but obediently nod, meeting his eyes with a pleading look, “only for you, promise. Please?”
His face is painted with an expression of faux confusion, that condescending look that makes you clench around nothing and tip your head up to the ceiling in frustration. You know from that look this is going to be harder than you thought. He’s in the mood to tease. He’s going to break you.
“Please? Please what, baby. What do you need from me?” You’re impressed by the way he’s looking at you like he’s actually concerned and wondering what you want, and although you know it’s an act and he’s not asking because he truly plans on giving it to you, you still give in.
“Touch me, Harry. Need it.” You should be embarrassed at the whiny inflection in your voice as you beg him, but you can’t find it in yourself to feel shame when you’re aching as bad as you are.
“You need it?” He teases and you know even he’s getting tired of this waiting game because his expression has melted down into a lazy grin, enjoying the way he’s torturing you.
You can tell that he isn’t exactly mad any more, which you’re grateful for. He’s just enjoying toying with the body that he knows so well.
You scoff and roll your eyes, pushing your hips towards him needily. It earns you a dark chuckle and a sigh, “alright, alright.”
Without leaving his position on his knees, he reaches for the vibrator. Before you can beg any more, he’s switching it on and bringing it down to where you need it the most. He doesn’t even offer up a warning before he’s placing it directly on your clit, ripping a shocked moan from your throat.
“Yeah?” His voice is taunting and low, and if the vibrator was any louder you wouldn’t be able to hear him, but it still hits you right in the gut like his voice usually does when he talks to you like this, “is that good? Right here?”
“Fuck, yes. Stay right there.” you stutter through your words in a way that you know he’ll tease you for later, but you don’t have the brain capacity to care right now. All you can think about and feel is him, that vibrator on your clit, the way he’s talking.
When he presses it harder against you, you breathe in deeply, exhaling in a whiney moan. He’s making you unravel at a quick and embarrassing pace and the sensations are overwhelming you. Your hips start to shift in tandem with the way he’s slowly rubbing the head of the vibrator back and forth against your clit, the sounds that leave your throat travel straight to his cock that’s still confined in his pants. He growls lowly when he notices your thighs start to shake and leans closer to suck kisses into them, “close already? Fuck look at that, honey…” he’s referring to the way your arousal is coating the toy. He almost feels tempted to bring it to his lips and clean it off, “this dreamy cunt needed it so bad, hm?”
You couldn’t respond even if you tried, your brain a mess of syllables and sounds that you’re meant to put together. All you can manage is a string of whimpers as you get closer and closer to your peak.
Harry watches your every move, so in tune with every twitch of your body and every sound you make. He moans along with you as you come undone, making sure to keep the toy right where it’s been to help you ride it out, anything to keep making his girl feel good.
You reach for his hand to ground you and he quickly gives you what you need, interlocking your fingers and groaning when you squeeze tightly, “there you go…fuck.”
You push yourself away from the toy when it becomes too much as best as you can, desperate to escape the onslaught of overstimulation and he chuckles, pulling the toy off of you. You can barely grip your bearings as he brings the toy to his lips to clean off with his tongue, he moans needily when he tastes you and squeezes your hand as if to say he’s proud of you.
He puts the toy down next to you and starts to kiss his way up your body. Mumbling little words of encouragement and praise on his journey to your lips.
“Did such a good job.”
“M’so proud of you.”
“You come so pretty.”
“So beautiful.”
When you guys are face to face he pinches your lips with his fingers before he leans down to kiss you, moaning into the kiss since he was deprived of them in the short time that he was making you come.
“Hi.” You breathe out in a chuckle, your mind still muddled from the post climactic haze. He returns your greeting, his voice soft and tender with an adoration filled expression on his face.
“Aren’t you like–” you motion your head downwards to refer to the way he’s straining in his pants and a chuckle leaves his lips. He nods gently, still staring at you with that fond look in his eye.
“Mhm.” he mumbles. He repositions himself so he can take off his clothes and after he teases you for nearly drooling over his abs, comes back down to rest against you so that your chests are touching, “you wanna keep going?”
You know he’s asking to be respectful, but you can also tell that if you say no he’d probably cry. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh and see the strain in his expression. He subtly shifts his hips every so often against your skin and you have to fight back a smirk at how needy he is.
You nod before you remember his thing about verbal consent and you mumble out a soft yes. As soon as he has your permission, he’s connecting your lips and lining up his tip with your entrance. He drags his tip back and forth against you, your body twitching in sensitivity every time he passes over your clit.
A guttural groan leaves him as he finally fills you, a groan that melts into a whine as you clench down around him tightly, forcing yourself to adjust to the burning stretch that you’ve missed so much.
“Fuck, I missed you.” The sound of his voice and the sounds he’s making just make you clench down tighter around him, “how do you always feel this fucking good? Squeezing me like a vice, pretty.”
He sets a rhythm that has him hitting that spot inside you that makes you melt every time, somehow even though he’s been aching in his pants for so long his focus still remains solely on bringing you pleasure, making you feel good, “s’that okay, sweet girl. S’it good for you? Am I giving this needy cunt what it needs?”
You know he doesn’t expect you to respond but he speaks anyway. He’s well aware of the effect his voice has on you.His deliberate thrusts gain more momentum with every reaction you give him. He truly feeds on your pleasure. It’s as if he suddenly remembers the emotional turmoil you forced the both of you to go through the past month, because his thrusts begin to get more purposeful. Rougher, more pointed motions of his hips rip noises from you that you’re sure is gonna give you a sore throat later.
His hand wraps around your throat in a firm grip, leaning down to grit words out into your ear, “you’re mine, understand that? You’re mine. And I’m yours. No one else’s. I belong to you, petal. Just you.”
He fights the strong pull in his chest that tells him to tell you how he really feels, how in love he is with you. How you consume his every thought and how your touch is unlike any other touch he’s ever felt. From the first time he was already addicted. You’re unlike anyone else that he’s ever met, you feel like home.
The force of his thrusts knock all of the air out of your lungs, and all you can do is nod and mumble out an agreement. You need to be his. There might not be anything that you want more right now. Hearing him confess his feelings for you right now as he’s fucking you into oblivion do all the right things for you, and like clockwork, he immediately recognizes what you need and switches back on the vibrator, bringing it right back down to your clit.
“Fuck that’s it, baby. Am I fucking you right, petal? Yeah? Fucking show me then. Come for me.” He presses the toy harder against you and rolls his hips in just the perfect way that makes him rub against that perfect spot inside you and you realize now that he made good on his word of teaching you a lesson. You are sufficiently taught.
He whines loudly at the feeling of you coming around him, mumbling out praises and thank you’s as you milk him for everything he’s worth, “shit, m’gonna fucking come. Fuck keep cumming, baby. Keep fucking squeezing me like that–” his words are cut off with a series of noises that you know is going replay in your head on loop.
He rides out his pleasure with slow, lazy thrusts, hiding his face in your neck as he tries to cope with all the pleasure that’s wracking through his body. You tangle your hands in his hair to offer him some comfort, both of you breathing heavily. He continues to mumble praises into your damp skin, filling you with a warm fuzzy feeling that transcends anything you’ve ever felt before.
When he catches his breath he turns his head to rest it on your shoulder and speaks, “you know I meant it right?”
“Meant what?”
“I’m yours. And you’re mine.”
December 31st, New Years Eve.
Your friend’s makeshift bar is bustling and you chuckle as the poor untrained bartender is trying to grapple with it all. You’re sipping slowly at a glass of champagne when you feel a strong arm link around your waist.
“Mm hi baby.” his deep voice reverberates through your entire body as he speaks directly into your ear. You melt into his grasp and your lips break into a smile that you couldn’t stop even if you tried.
“Harry.” you say cheekily as your hands fall to hold onto his arm. He had just come back from an absolute killer karaoke performance next to your friend’s TV. The whole entire house was cheering for him as he belted out an incredible rendition of “Hopelessly Devoted to You”. Ever the performer, your boyfriend is, “you were amazing. As always.” you giggle and he presses a messy, wet kiss to your cheeks.
He is absolutely glowing tonight. Surrounded by his family, friends, and you. He’s beyond ready to spend the next year being annoyingly in love with you and attached to your hip. In fact, that’s the thing he’s looking forward to the most about the new year, going through every milestone, change, and holiday with the love of his life.
“Always strokin’ m’ego, petal. Looove you.” you laugh loudly at how inebriated he is and lean your head back against his shoulder to get closer to him.
“I love you too, H. I think you’re cut off though.” you chuckle and you can hear the pout in his voice when he speaks.
“Wha’? Wha’s wrong with you? M’not even that drunk m’love.” The irony of his words slurring while he’s trying to convince you that he isn’t drunk isn’t lost on you. You turn around to face him and it’s like his expression melts into a smile when he looks at you.
You don’t know how you never noticed it before, the way he looks at you. He stares at you with so much awe, so much reverence. Ever since you’ve noticed it the first time, it’s the first thing that catches your attention when you guys are together. That damn look.
“Y’so pretty.” He brings his hand up to stroke your face with his thumb.
You turn your face to kiss his palm and he giggles childishly, mumbling something about it tickling.
It’s not long before the countdown starts. Harry and you look at each other in anticipation, wanting to commemorate the first time you guys expressed the affection for each other that’s only increased ten fold.
9
8
“I think New Years is m’favorite holiday.” he mumbles out, looking down at you with that familiar fond look.
6
“Yeah?” you giggle at his admission, “why’s that, H?”
4
“S’cause it’s the day that I finally got you.” You can barely register the cheers of happy new year before his lips are on yours, claiming them and making you his. You pull away reluctantly to breathe and smile at him when you speak.
“I think it’s my new favorite too, baby.”
#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry styles writing#harry styles smut#harry styles blurb#harry styles angst#harry styles x reader#harry smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic rec#harry styles#harry styles fics#harry styles concept#harry styles au#harry styles fwb
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Friday Nights - Harry Styles x reader. (Dadrry Oneshot).
[The polls revealed that you sweetpeas wanted more dadrry and my ovaries agreed. Hope you guys find it as cute as I do! 💞]
Premise: Harry can't wait to get home to see his favourite girls.
More dadrry / Other writing
Word count: 1.9k / Warnings
🧸
Harry has the entire weekend off- not just a lucky Saturday afternoon- the entire weekend. And he has spent the first 18 hours without empty hands, but the fullest of hearts.
His baby girl- who has long surpassed gaining the skill of walking- has been carried and coddled from the second Harry’s boots hit the hardwood of the entrance hall early Friday evening. The sun has yet to fully set and his whole body is whisked away with excitement at what awaits on the other side of the front door.
At the familiar sound of keys dangling from their slotting in the keyhole, his little petal has dismissed her activity of creating a colourful artwork, crayon still squished between her chubby fingers as her wobbly feet bound over to the front door in pursuit of the mysterious person attempting access.
With the patience she has surely learned from yourself- not Harry- his little 3-year-old is standing in wait, eyes wide with curiosity, her posture still shy and weary of who might enter in a moment.
And when the door becomes ajar, a familiar worn-down leather Gucci boot comes into vision, and then she can see the other boot too- her features prettily framing a painting of the unconditional love she has for her daddy. Those silly boots older than herself are the surest sign of one of her favourite humans stepping into the house.
Giddily, she beams up at him, her chubby ankles balancing her soft feet as she bounces up and down, her body swaying with enthusiasm, her eyes shining with pure excitement.
Harry isn't even halfway through the door when he is confronted by his cute, cheery, tiny toddler, and he feels his shoulders soothingly shrug at the mere sight- unaware of just how happy he is at the blessing of ending his stressful days in the comfort of a home life he never considered a possibility.
Taking a full step into the hallway, Harry is reminded of your existence whenever his babygirl wistfully looks at him. She is the combination of he and your love, and so much more.
Her hair is a little damp, presumably from just having had a bath and some supper. Harry thinks he must have caught her amid playtime, and he hopes tomorrow might offer the opportunity for him to partake in these activities.
And he will, sternly telling you that he hopes you'll take the opportunity to make the weekend your own; tending to tasks, catching up with both friends and binging series, even just using the time to extend your naps, meals, and self-care.
But right now, the bag slung across his shoulder is dropped to the floor, he brushes the edge of the door in an attempt to shut it but cares not if it shuts completely, because a three-year-old- dressed in a pale blue set of jammies decorated in her favourite dinosaurs- is exclaiming, "Daddy" through a burst of enthusiastic giggles.
He takes a step forward, but she is more than willing to meet him in the middle, her tiny toes coming into contact with his boots before he can blink and she tightly wraps her arms around his leg- she only measures up to below his knee- adorably squeezing as tight as she can.
Harry's heart swells so big, he fears he is a balloon filled with so much helium it's begging to burst- but if it bursts, he knows his entire body will become a firework exhibition centred around the theme of how much he unconditionally loves his baby girl.
He does his best to bow closer, wrapping his arms around her, and in true tradition, Harry then lifts her little-ness, helping her balance her feet on the tops of his boots- Harry would have thrown these scuffed, barely stylish boots away if it weren't for the undeniably heart-warming reaction he receives when arriving home.
She now stands atop his shoes, her arms extending up so her hands can be clasped by his, and they are swallowed like a small petal in his palm- so small, he has never seen something-someone- so dainty. Harry slowly takes dance-like steps around the hallway, enthused and cheered on by the cheeky giggles of his daughter enjoying their little 'dance' along the hardwood.
Still humouring and guiding her around, Harry calls out, "'M home, Lovie," seeking out the location of his gift-giver, yourself.
"Hi, Bubs!" You call, and by the distance in your voice, Harry knows you're probably in the kitchen- which is confirmed mere seconds later, "'m in the kitchen", you coo, "felt like making spring rolls…", you pause, "It's still undecided if I'm succeeding or not."
Harry chuckles softly, eager to enter the kitchen and see exactly what you're on about, and by now, the easily distracted toddler has released him, bumbling on about wanting to show her daddy the latest masterpiece she will soon add to her collection.
He certainly will, "How 'bout you show me, and then we can draw another one together?"
She sillily but seriously considers it, her hand stroking her chin as if the fate of the world is balancing atop her ten fingers. Harry thinks he sees himself in her, he thinks he sees himself in you, and loving you has surely rubbed off on him.
Eventually, his sassy three-year-old tells him- with humorously, adorable certainty- "Yes."
Harry's chest lulls with love as he tells her, "Need to say hi to mummy first, okay?"
She nods avidly, "I'll start without you." To which Harry laughs aloud and begins the task of removing his boots.
Harry trails down the hallway, his sock sliding along the hardwood, his eyes glancing over the array of framed photographs- ones of himself and you, of the baby, pets, family and friends.
As he rounds the corner, the aroma of freshly chopped cabbage and carrots invades his senses, and said senses go into overdrive as his eyes land on the loveliest of things; his partner, partially hidden as you stand behind the kitchen island, slicing an avocado, humming along to soft sound of 'Hand Me Downs'.
He finds himself behind you so fast, like a fugue of neediness had taken over and he had to tend to it. You hum in contentment, body sinking back into his chest, still chopping with nonchalance as his arms carefully, but desperately, wrap around your waist, his hands mindlessly shifting the material of your clothes to ensure skin-on-skin contact.
He wants to be near- just for a moment- softly peppering kisses along the nape of your neck, and when you shudder, he huffs out with an overload of admiration. His little pecks seem successful as you finally discard your dinner prep, placing the knife on the counter before twirling your body around to face Harry.
His smile is bright and matches his eyes, unintentionally encouraging your features to mirror his as you tilt up onto your toes in favour of giving him a good smooch,
"Hello, my Darling." You address, pressing your lips to the corner of his own.
"Missed you, Lovie." He says before going in for a proper kiss; pecking you one, two, three times before he is smiling so much that it becomes hard to call this kissing.
You giggle against his lips, giving him one last kiss before tilting back less than an inch to let him know, "Missed you more."
"Liar." He chuckles, tilting his neck to the ceiling, giving you the opportunity for a cheeky nip of his chin. Harry's body jolts with pleasant surprise, hand sliding down your lower back to give your denim-clad bum a good squeeze.
And then perhaps the sassiest and cutest demand comes echoing down from the room over, "Excuse me!" which only has the pair of you a soft chuckling mess.
You gently stroke the nape of Harry's neck, nails scraping the nearest tufts of his hair, "Y' better get going." a final kiss to both cheeks and his lips before you remind him, "Your Highness awaits."
Harry nods along with a swift tap to your bum cheek and a kiss to your forehead as he leaves the kitchen in pursuit of the art gallery that is guaranteed to be covering the walls of the games room.
She is already seated at her little yellow table, her collection of colourful markers, pencils, and glitter pens are all neatly lined up on the right, and she has a pile of complete artworks stacked on the left. In the centre is an A4 pink piece of cardboard already covered in streaks of black marker.
Continuing to scribble, she makes a small gesture for Harry to pull up a seat next to her. He does so, untucking the chair he knows will do a useless job at holding his height, nevertheless, he settles in easily- a product of this being a recurring event- turning his body to signal his attention is entirely hers.
For the next twenty minutes or so, Harry enthusiastically reacts and admires his little one's creations, and then he follows her to the puppy's bed, letting her show off the new toy she chose for their golden retriever to sleep with this evening, then Harry helps her up the stairs, gently hoisting her up, her legs wrapping around his hips, her head curling into his chest.
She instructs him to go to her bedroom, only loosening her grip as he slowly dips to place both her and himself upon her bed. Out of his hold, her little legs crossed, feet wiggling with excitement, patting the spot next to her for her daddy to occupy.
Harry could never say no to that- for starters, it was challenging enough saying it to you- his body shuffling closer, shifting to suit her wishes until she is happily cradled across his chest, his hip awkwardly pressed into the mattress, shoulder twisted unpleasantly, but he has no cares to give.
She wants him to tell her a story. Sometimes she wants to hear about him having fun with his friends, or how he and mommy met and fell in love, other days she wants him to make one up tonight, she wants to hear about his singing.
She asks simple, scattered questions, mostly unrelated to the one before and after. Slowly they delay and his answers add an extra drone, she is getting rather comfy, cuddling up into the crook of Harry, sharing this contentedness with such sleepiness that he knows he is sure to follow.
Downstairs, admiring your dinner, you are quite proud of the final results of your spring rolls. Patience and persistence certainly has its perks. If your phone were nearby, you would be tempted to take a picture, but you have something better; a handsome husband who will soon praise you in wonderment as he scarfs down your proud work.
After a brief stroll through the living room and the games room, you patter your way up the staircase and make a beeline for her bedroom. As expected, you find your favourite duo, but what wasn't expected was the sigh of Harry cradling a sleeping toddler.
She is sleeping soundly, her little wrists and ankles scrunched, her face with a naturally concentrated brow furrow- just like her father. Harry has one arm wrapped around her, his head tucked behind her own, laying obscurely but looking cosier than ever.
#im so stoned#need to edit#lmao#elioslover#harry styles x reader#harry styles fic#harry styles one shot#harry x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles#dadrry#dad!harry#harry styles fluff
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DATE NIGHT
A/N: some sweet soon-to-be-dad!harry content, bc is probably one of my absolute favs!!
WORD COUNT: 1.5k
SUMMARY: You're supposed to go on a date night, but when Harry comes home he finds you, his pregnant wife asleep, so he changes your plans for the evening.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
Date nights are always Harry’s favorite. It doesn’t matter what you do, he just simply craves the alone time with you, whether you go out for dinner, catch a movie or go to a concert, it’s all about quality time spent with the person he loves the most.
He hasn’t had the chance to take you out anywhere these past months, his schedule has been hectic, he has to squeeze a lot into a short period of time since he is about to go on a massive break, taking on a role he’s been dreaming of his whole life.
He is going to become a dad in just about two months.
It’s also the reason why he is so excited about having a date night, he knows how little time you’ll have for romance once the baby arrives, so he wants to make the best out of the remaining of the time you have alone.
His last meeting of the day runs late so he heads home in a hurry, texting you from the car on his way, but he gets no response. The drive is about thirty minutes, he checks his phone every chance he has, double texting you, asking if everything is alright every time he stops at a red light. He can’t help but think of ways you could have fallen and hurt yourself or the baby, or maybe you’re stuck in the bathtub because you can’t push yourself up. The latter wouldn’t be the first time it happens. Your belly has been growing rapidly and moving around has become a challenge sometimes, though you’re handling the ups and downs of pregnancy like a true hero.
When Harry pulls up at your home you’ve been sharing for the last three years, his heart is hammering in his chest, afraid that something happened. Your car is parked in the garage and the lights are on in the house so he knows you’re home, but you still haven’t answered any of his texts.
“Babe?” he calls out, walking in, waiting for an answer, but nothing comes. He can hear the TV on in the living room, so he rounds the corner, following the voices, he picks up that it’s a rerun of that awful reality you’ve been obsessed with. He is just about to call out for you again, but then he sees you.
Curled up on the couch, a chunky blanket messily thrown over you, the TV illuminating your makeupless, sleeping face that’s squished into the pillow. The anxiousness quickly turns into warmth in his chest as he stops and admires the sight of you peacefully napping. An empty plate is set on the coffee table, you probably ate the leftovers from yesterday for lunch, there’s a half empty water bottle on the ground and an empty pack of your favorite snack next to the couch on the round. He can clearly see you snacking all afternoon, lounging on the couch, watching Netflix and having a chilling day while he works. He only has one more week of hustling before he can spend all his time with you and he can’t wait to be lazy with you.
Checking the time he sees that the two of you should be leaving to the restaurant in about twenty to make it there in time for the reservation. He knows you would want to do your hair and makeup nicely and that takes way more time. He also knows you won’t have the energy to leave the house judging from how you haven’t even moved since he arrived.
Kneeling down next to the couch he gently brushes your hair out of your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Baby,” he softly says, gently rubbing your shoulder. You stir in your sleep, burying your face deeper into the pillow that makes him smile. “Wake up, let me see those pretty eyes, I missed them so much all day.”
You hum and scrunch your nose before slowly blinking your eyes open. It takes a few moments to process what and who you see.
“Harry? You’re home already?”
“It’s past seven, babe,” he chuckles softly.
“Shit, I fell asleep,” you groan closing your eyes. “I was so tired, I couldn’t keep my eyes open!”
Harry’s not surprised, you’ve been extremely sleepy since the beginning of the pregnancy and he doesn’t blame you, growing a human must be quite tiring.
“It’s alright.”
“What time is it? Let me just get ready…” you start pushing yourself up and he helps you into a sitting position, but doesn’t let you stand. Instead, he sits beside you, placing a hand over your belly.
“Let’s ditch the restaurant,” he suggests, making it look like it’s his idea so you don’t have to tell him you don’t actually want to leave the house.
“But it’s our date night! I promise I will shake myself up.”
“Date night is to spend time together. Why don’t we do it at home this time? I can run us a nice bath, give you a massage and then cuddle.”
You blink at him for a few moments and he already knows he won you over with his change of plans.
“Can we eat something in the tub too?”
“Of course,” he chuckles. “We still have some of that vegan lasagna, right? I’ll heat that up.”
“That sounds awesome,” you smile and leaning over you steal a quick kiss.
Harry takes care of everything while you go up and change out of your clothes, putting on your favorite fluffy robe. Sitting on the bed you reply to some texts you missed along with Harry’s.
“Bath is ready,” Harry appears in the room and he helps you up from the bed, the two of you walking into the bathroom hand in hand.
“H, this looks so good!” you gasp when you see that he has lit candles, the food is by the tub on a tray and he used your favorite bath salt, the water smells amazing.
“Then let’s get into it,” he kisses the side of your head.
You’re done with undressing pretty fast since you only have your robe on, so you sit on the edge of the tub, watching him strip out of his clothes.
“What?” he chuckles as he kicks his pants off, leaving him in nothing as he throws his clothes into the hamper.
“You look so hot, no wonder you knocked me up so easily,” you bite into your bottom lip seductively and you love how his cheeks turn slightly pink.
“Don’t think those two things are linked, but okay,” he mumbles with a shy smirk as he walks over to you and helps you into the water, making sure you don’t slip.
When you’re settled in the warm water, he climbs in behind you so you can lean back against his chest, his arms circling around you, settling on your belly. You eat and talk about your day, he tells you about his meetings while he gently massages your back, paying extra attention to the spots he knows hurt the most.
“I’m sorry we didn’t go out tonight,” you hum, your head lying on his shoulder, his hands wandering over your body, his fingers caressing the skin on your arms, chest and stomach as if he is mapping your body.
“Don’t be. I just wanted to spend time with you and that’s what I’m doing.”
“Isn’t it weird that soon it won’t be just the two of us?”
“Terrifying and exciting at the same time,” he admits with a small chuckle.
“I think we’re gonna be cool parents.”
“Yeah?”
“I mean, we are pretty cool now,” you point out. “When I’m not like a tired sloth,” you add chuckling.
“A sloth?” he laughs behind you, his chest rumbling underneath your back.
“That’s what I feel like,” you shrug smiling.
“Then you’re a cute, sexy, pregnant sloth.”
“I think that’s the first time anyone called a sloth sexy.” You poke his thigh next to you playfully.
You soak for a little longer until the water runs cold, then you get out and Harry insists helping you lotion your body, taking his sweet time with your belly. He dresses you in your softest pajama set and cleans up in the bathroom, not letting you move a finger. When you’re both in bed finally, you make yourself comfortable with your pregnancy pillow that’s been essential to your nights for the past few months. You felt bad when you couldn’t get comfortable snuggling to Harry anymore and you even cried when you first tried the pillow and knew you’d need it to have a good night sleep. Being the sweetest person alive, Harry was the one who tried to make you feel better about it, telling you it’s alright, he completely understands and he just wants you to feel good.
Harry makes himself comfortable next to you, one arm tucked under his pillow, the other one reaching over, his hand plastered to your belly, this is his usual pose and you love it too, because even though you can’t cuddle him, you still feel connected to him.
“Date night next weekend? I promise I won’t turn into a sloth,” you smile at him sleepily.
“Okay. But tonight was great too, I love being with you, no matter what we do,” he smiles back.
Humming you reach out and cup his face in your hand, smiling at how he snuggles into your touch before you drop your head and slowly fall asleep.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb
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The Grapejuice Blues | H.S
pairing: Harry Styles x fem!reader
warnings: none
summary: Harry surprises you with your favorite song off his latest album 🍇💜🍷
author’s note: first time posting since last year, so please be gentle <3
📍Horsens, Denmark
Open air arenas always had a different vibe to them. While they stretched far back and were a bit less intimate, something about performing outside was special.
You personally couldn’t say what it was like to perform on stage in front of thousands of people, but after seeing your boyfriend do it countless times, you could tell it was an addicting feeling. The music blaring, the fans singing, it was an adrenaline rush that had a sense of love and pride streaming into your other half’s bloodstream. Being outside with the clouds, the setting sun, and the occasional airplane or bird passing by only amplified that high. Don’t even get Harry started on the rain. He considered the shows that were rained upon to be the most memorable ones.
However, it seemed as though there wouldn’t be any rain at Horsens. The weather was impeccable. There was a slight breeze, wasn’t too cold or too hot, and the sun was out. Perfect weather for the start of the final leg of Love on Tour.
Tour coming to an end was bittersweet. You knew Harry would miss traveling and connecting with his fans. However, you were glad he was finally getting a well deserved break. While he did have a break between the three years he’s been touring, you were excited and a little relieved that he’d be spending time at home resting. No matter how many times he assured you he was doing just fine, you always worried that he was overworking himself. In all honesty, you couldn’t wait to have him home all to yourself—you wanted to sleep in and love up on each other till all the fatigue from tour rubbed off the both of you. Though for now, you were simply living in the moment since you knew you would eventually miss the craziness of touring.
Which brings you to today. You were currently in pit, along with Jeffrey, and Lloyd watching Harry go through his final rehearsal. You were sat on one of the equipment boxes, while the other two leaned against another. Jeff was watching to make sure everything was going smoothly, while Lloyd was there snapping some pictures. You lot have been there for about 30 minutes or so, and from what you have heard, Horsens was in for a treat. Not only were they getting She but they were also getting Stockholm Syndrome. To say you were jealous was an understatement.
“He’s really spoiling them, isn’t he?” You turn to Jeffrey who’s already smiling at you.
“He wanted to surprise everyone—keeping them on their toes as always.” He shrugged, glancing down at the new set list before him. Of course Harry wanted to keep them on their toes, “edging”, he liked to call it.
You rolled your eyes fondly at your boyfriend’s antics, “Such a tease.”
“Oh, you’d know, wouldn’t you?” Lloyd smirked, not missing the chance to snap a picture of your face after his comment.
“Piss off.” You muttered, reaching over Jeff and shoving Lloyd’s shoulder, only causing him to chuckle. Meanwhile on stage, Harry had just finished performing WMYB. The heat had started to get to him as he pulled off his neon green Pleasing sweater, and walked towards the end of the stage where you were.
Ironically you were all wearing some kind of merch from Pleasing. Lloyd had the beach bag over his shoulder carrying some of his camera equipment, while Jeff wore the black crewneck. You were in a more comfy getup, wearing the new brown sleepover shorts and the green crewneck. It was like your unofficial uniform as a crew, Harry found it wholesome in all honesty.
From the stage a smile can be seen on Harry’s face as he approaches you all. He crouches down before jumping off the stage and walking over to stand in between your legs.
“Hi baby.” You hum as he wraps his arms around your waist. His face had a slight tan and was shiny, mostly due to the sweat he’s accumulated from the sun. One of your arms wrap around his shoulders, not bothered by the slight sweat beneath his shirt, as your other reached to grab your hydro flask with water.
“Hiya lovey, what d’you think about the set list so far?” He asked you, silently thanking you for the water by pressing a kiss to your jaw. As he drank you responded, “It’s perfect, I think it’s one of the best line ups you’ve had during the tour.”
His one arm remained around you while the other held the hydro flask. He takes one more sip of water before asking, “You think?”
You tilt your head at him and send him a reassuring smile, “Yup, they’re gonna love it H, I promise.” Unable to resist the urge, you ran a hand through his dark brown locks, slightly damp strands of hair tangling with your fingers.
Harry hummed happily at the action, a boyish grin on his pink lips. He was ecstatic that you were able to come along for tour, your job often made it difficult for you to join him for long periods of time, but fortunately with the power of the internet, your boss allowed you to work remotely. Knowing that you were there watching him and would eventually greet him as soon as he finished on stage soothed his nerves. He knew that whatever happens on tour, everything would be alright since you were there. You made him happy and everybody else can agree.
Unbeknownst to either you or Harry, Lloyd managed to snap a quick picture of you both. Not that Harry was always all over the place, but he’s the most relaxed whenever you were around and to see him so calm prior to a show was a pleasant sight for the photographer.
A toothy grin replaced the smile on Harry’s face as he began to pull you off your makeshift seat.
“C’mon, you’re gonna wanna be on stage with me for this.” He pushed you closer towards the stage, walking behind you and gently grasped your hips. You look around confused, “What do you mean?”
“Jus’ get on stage w’me, I have a surprise I think you’ll like.” He slightly teased, motioning for you to jump. You side eyed him for a moment before Harry helped you climb onto the stage. He followed after, effortlessly lifting himself up from pit.
“What are you up to?” You squint up at him as he grasps onto your hand. He leads you towards the center of the stage with that sly smirk on his face.
Harry stops in front of his mic then turns to you, “Will y’stop worrying, you’ll like it babe, I swear.”
He looks over his shoulder and shows a thumbs up towards the band. Suddenly, you heard the infamous opening beats of one of your favorite songs from Harry’s latest album.
You jaw dropped and your eyes widened as you stared at Harry. He couldn’t help but let out a giggle at your reaction.
“You’re playing Grapejuice?” You screamed over the horns and the rest of the band playing behind you. Goosebumps formed on your skin at hearing Grapejuice live in all its glory.
Harry stepped closer towards you, one of his hands gripping his mic and the other on your hip to pull you in closer.
He leaned down towards your ear, “Yep, but I wanted to enjoy it with you before I sing it in front of everyone else again.” His lips then pressed a kiss onto your temple.
Your heart swelled at how precious he truly was. Sure, it was rehearsal and he had to practice the song regardless. But it was the fact that he wanted to rehearse it beside you because he knew it was your favorite song. You weren’t allowed to dwell in your thoughts any longer since Harry began to sing the song to you.
The entire time he held your hand as he directed the song’s lyrics to you. Meanwhile, you sang with him, your body moving alongside his dancing to the swinging melodies of his song.
Down at pit, Jeffrey and Lloyd watched the both of you dancing like a pair of idiots—a pair of cute in love idiots. Lloyd had a blast taking pictures, reminding himself to send them to Harry at the end of the day.
“Save those for the wedding.” Jeffrey told Lloyd. The blonde rolled his eyes and tilted his head at Jeffrey.
“I’ve already got an entire hard drive, should I start making the slideshow now?” Lloyd joked, causing them to chuckle amongst themselves.
As the song came to a close, Harry pulled you close again.
“Y’know why I decided to include it in the set list?” He questioned you.
You shook your head, “Nope, why?”
“S’because you’re finally able to come on tour with me, so as a thank you I wanted to play your song every night to make you happy.” He explained. Your lips pouted at how thoughtful he was, he truly kept exceeding your expectations.
“You really didn’t have to bubs, but I really appreciate it.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him. Your lips placing soft kisses along his neck.
“I know but I wanted to.” He muttered into your hair, arms locking you in against him.
“I’m the happiest when I’m with you.” You sighed contently into the crook of his neck as Harry hummed in response. By now, you were both swaying in each other’s arms, enjoying one another’s presence.
“The fans are gonna go mad.” You chuckle against him.
“Well they have you to thank, don’t they?”
“I guess they do.”
#Harry Styles#Harry Styles x reader#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles drabble#harry edward styles
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how you get the girl | regulus black
pairing: CFO!regulus black x best friend!reader
genre: fluff, song fic, love confession under the rain, more fluffffff, muggle CFO!au where the marauders all work together, regulus being babied (as he should) golden retriever reg, not beta read
wc: 1.7k?
this is request ! thank u for sending it in, i know this is a month late but here it is anyways!!
Working for the Black brothers had its perks, you’re well paid, you get to travel quite often for work, you’ve met tons of celebrities due to your line of work, and most importantly, you get to put them in their place —though you call this the best friend privilege.
Talk about a work life balance.
Black was at its highest peak when Regulus’ father passed away, leaving his two sons to step in and do the job as the CEO and CFO of their family’s luxury brand.
Their positions were set in stone, Sirius will be leading the company as a CEO and Regulus will be by his side as the CFO. And Sirius, with the amount of power he has, was quick to think of you when it came to choosing an assistant for his brother.
Because —and this was his logic— if you’ve tolerated being friends with him for as long as you’ve had, you’d be able to handle his princess attitude when it came to work.
And seeing as you were quite literally jobless at the time, the prospect of working for/with (the lines between those two were thin) your best friend did not seem bad at all.
“Where are you going?”
You turn back to the owner of the voice, Regulus lingering by his office’s door. “To grab a snack.”
“It’s dinner time,” he says, as if he’s only remembering it now.
“Yeah smart ass,” you fix him a look. “That’s why I’m going to grab a snack.”
Regulus doesn’t look all too pleased, “wait here.”
You contemplate doing as you’re told or just heading towards one of the vending machines so you could get back to work.
Regulus comes back out, his coat, and yours, in hand as he picks up your purse. He makes his way towards you, helping you into your coat despite your confused stare before slipping his own on. “We’re going to dinner.”
“Are you paying?” You were a simple person. A free meal is a free meal. So when Regulus nods, you smile at him. “Let’s go.”
The two of you begin walking towards the elevator, a few employees bidding goodbyes and good nights here and there. “Have you thought about it?”
“About?” Regulus murmurs, unsure of what you’re trying to say.
“That girl?” You say in a questioning tone, a bit muddled by his cluelessness. “The one Sirius said you liked?”
Sirius and his constantly running mouth. Why did Regulus ever tell his brother that he had his eyes set on someone he’d never understand. He made a stupid decision and now he has to face its consequences.
“Oh.” He says as if he’s only remembering it now, as if that ‘girl’ wasn’t standing besides him as he attempts to take her out to dinner. “What about her?”
You turn to look at him and Regulus can’t help but turn to meet your eyes in return. “Have you thought about how you’d get the girl?”
“Not really.” The elevator dings, the door opens and you were quickly greeted by James who was not only a friend of Sirius but a model who was married to one of Black’s most well known designers. “Should I have?”
“Should you have what?” James asks.
You turn to James. “Think about how he’d get the girl.”
“Oh really?” He says in a knowing tone. “Well isn’t this exciting?”
“Don’t start Potter,” Regulus clearly annoyed, the amused smiles on the other two occupying the elevator not missed by him. “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be home with Harry?”
“Don’t try to change the topic,” James says with a slight frown. “You know I could always give your advice, right?”
Begrudgingly, Regulus nods. “Yes.”
You grin, finding the situation more than entertaining. Ever since Regulus stepped up as the CFO in a company where most of his brother’s friends worked at, he was more often than not, babied. And you can’t help but find it a bit adorable.
“Good,” James says. The elevator door dings again, signalling that they’ve finally made it to their destination. “Now give the lady her purse back.”
It was only then you’d realised that you never took your stuff off of Regulus’ hands, him having held onto it without a single complaint.
“Are you going to dinner?” A nod from the both of you had James stepping out of the elevator. “Have fun on your date!”
There’s no point in correcting him, it has happened a hundred times by now. Whenever you and Regulus had plans, the Marauders — a team consisting of the CEO, two models (James and Remus), and one designer, never failed to call it a date.
You meet Reg’s eyes with a small smile. “Shall we get started on our date?”
Regulus fiddles with your bag still in his hand. A bag he’d asked Lily to design specifically for you. He returns your smile. “Lead the way.”
Half a year of —what Sirius had called mindless pining later, Regulus finally caved in and went to his brother’s only married friend for advice.
Once he heard James’ ‘advice’ he wishes more than anything to forget everything he’d said, and to not even attempt it had it not been Lily and Dorcas saying that it worked on them.
Marlene had used the same methods as James to get the girl. So if it had worked twice then surely it would work again, right?
Step one should in theory be easy. Rain was romantic, or at least it ideally is (as seen in chick flick), so ultimately, a confession under the pouring rain should do the trick.
“You’re going to stand there and you’re going to tell her how you feel,” James says sternly. “You’re going to tell her what you want. That’s how you get the girl.”
For some reason he doesn’t really believe him. But Sirius is patting him encouragingly on the back so he lets the fantasy of being swept away during a rainstorm mid confession fade away.
He was going to make this work.
The weather forecast was right. Today would be a rainy night, not too harsh but not a sprinkling either, it was perfect for him to try to win you over. Or at least try to.
You were quick to open your door, not wasting a single second after him having rang your bell. “Regulus?” You ask, and when he doesn’t make the move to come in during the pouring rain, you follow up. “What are you doing? Get in.”
The rain is now drenching his very expensive shoes. The droplets are cold, the wind is harsh, he was going pale, practically shivering but he was not going to give up so soon. “I need to talk to you,” he says, not moving an inch.
“Yeah we can do that in here,” you say, clearly concerned for your friend. “Are you insane?”
Regulus shakes his head, and you decide you’ve had enough, stepping into your home to grab an umbrella before running towards him, you quickly pull him into your house —not without reprimanding him.
“What were you thinking?” You scold. “What’s so important you have to talk to me right now? In the pouring rain too.”
Regulus finds that he likes it better when you’re like this. When you’ve yelling at him as you wrap a towel around him. This was why he loved you, you cared for him in every way that is nowhere near artificial. And he’s known that for a while now. So it was about time he did something about it.
“I love you.”
You pause in your step. Regulus assumes that you were on your way to find him something to change into based on your direction. You resume your way into your bedroom where a set of spare pyjamas were reserved for Regulus. Muttering about how much of an idiot he was on the way.
You return soon after, pyjamas in hand. “Go shower, change. Then we’ll talk.”
Again, Regulus finds himself being babied, this time though, instead of being babied by his brother and his friends, he was being babied by you. And he doesn’t think he minds it all too much.
You sit him down at your vanity when he was done, a hand reaching for your hair dryer. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that,” you tell him after a while, your hand roaming around his curls as you attempt to dry it. “It’s not funny.”
Bewilderedly, Regulus says. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”
“Really?” You laugh dryly. You then tsked, going over your words. “Then what about that girl? From a few months back?”
“That was you,” he says after a beat. “It’s always been you.”
You pull your hands away from him, setting the hairdryer down as you look at him, settling yourself on your vanity. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
He doesn’t fully understand what was going on but based on your words, and what he considers context clues, you might just reciprocate his feelings. “Because, I didn’t know how to.”
You purse your lips. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“And it won’t,” Regulus says, cautiously reaching for your hand. You let him take it. “I want you for better or for worse and if you’re scared what might happen between us ruining our friendship then we can take it slow, I’d wait forever and ever for this.”
Black family and their flair for dramatics, huh?
“Okay, let’s do this.” You take a deep breath. “Only if you promise me one thing though.”
Regulus brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss on it. “Anything.”
“Don’t do that again,” you tell him. “I’m not going to work for you if you have a massive cold, let alone kiss you.”
“I promise,” Regulus says, smiling. “Now can I kiss you?”
You nod, pushing yourself off of the vanity and closer to him, Regulus places a careful hand on your waist and pulls you in, just a second before your lips touch you hear a sniffle, and then, inevitably, Regulus shifts to his side, sneezing loudly.
When he looks back at you, his nose is red, his lips are prominent pout as he processes the fact that you won’t be kissing anytime soon.
You pat his cheeks (or cheekbones really). “Next time,” you tell him. “If you’ve waited half a year to tell me you love me then you can wait a week to kiss me.”
—from bee: i wrote this at 2am im tired help
#regulus black scenarios#regulus black x yn#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#regulus black fluff#regulus black humor#regulus black imagines#regulus black fanfiction#regulus black x female reader#regulus black angst#Spotify#🧳: my writing
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bandmate!yn and harry getting ice cream?? i can’t wait to see the blurb lol
this was supposed to be a small concept but i got carried away bc i missed them, i hope you like this !
bandmate!yn masterlist | send me a tip <3
“I can’t believe you don’t have an ice cream machine as part of the tour catering.” YN said as she walked around the dining area of Chicago’s United Center, they were there to perform five sold out shows as part of Harry’s Love On Tour residencies, and it was safe to say that the couple was having a blast being on the road together again.
“Well love, we’re trying to keep a healthy menu, you know, life on the road could take a toll on you if you don’t take care of yourself.” he told his girlfriend as he sipped on a kale and kiwi smoothie, his favorite post work out snack.
“Ugh, health freak, that you are,” she moved to stand close to him, putting her hands on his biceps and making him wrap his hands around her waist, throwing her head back so she could give him her best doe eyes that she knew would make him fold “Let’s go get some ice cream, please?” she asked, putting on her soft voice and the way he rolled his eyes with affection and curved his lips into a small smile told her that she got what she wanted.
“You know body doesn’t like when I eat a lot of sugar, specially after a workout,” his statement earned him a grunt from his girlfriend “Then you can get a yogurt one with no toppings, let’s go.” she demanded this time and grabbed his hand guiding him to exit the room, he could only let out a small laugh and do as his girlfriend said.
//
With his blue adidas jacket and red sneakers he stood behind his girlfriend in line to get her desired ice cream, gently placing his arm around her shoulders, it’s well known that Harry is a private person and normally not a fan of PDA, but with his girl everything just felt different; he wouldn’t miss a chance of holding her hand or kissing her temple, even if they were in public.
“I’m really craving a vanilla one with sprinkles and chocolate syrup, or maybe caramel syrup and chocolate chips, yeah that sounds better,” she rambled as her eyes scanned the menu, he only let out a breathy laugh and pecked her cheek, at this point he was sure some prying eyes and cameras were focused on them, but he decided to pay no mind to them and just get his girlfriend her oh so wanted ice cream.
“Don’t you think that’s too much sugar, baby? There’s healthier options on the menu,” he said with the mere purpose of annoying her, he knows she’s not fond of the healthy food he often forces her to get “If you try to go all health freak on me one more time, we’re breaking up,” her tone was serious she looked up at him and pursed her lips, demanding for a kiss which he was happy to give her, “H look, that dog is so adorable, he’s looking at you,” she said pointing out a dog and its owner who were standing in front of them, the puppy was in fact looking at them curiously “He’s so cute H, go pet him,” she spoke again, excitement in her voice over the small dog and Harry couldn’t help but melt as his girlfriend.
They found out that the dog’s name was slim and his owner was super nice, Harry scratched the back of his ear and pet him for a while and YN was almost drooling at the sight of her boyfriend being so domestic, after a small chat with the owner and with their desserts in hand, they headed out of the small ice cream show and walked hand in hand towards the venue again.
“You know, we should adopt a puppy once we’re done with the tour,” Harry casually said after having some of his yogurt ice cream with no toppings, just as YN said he would get, “That’s probably the best idea that you’ve come up with but we can’t adopt a puppy together if we live in different houses,” his girlfriend told him as they reached the back entrance of the arena, Harry opening the door for her and following behind, “Well then, you should just move in with me and we can be a happy little family, with a pet and all,” the smile on his face was evident, sharing his house with his girl was something he had been wanting from the moment they made it official during his last tour, and right now, after a year of being together and his love for her only growing strong every day, he knew it was time to take that step.
“Are you sure that you want me to live in your house? I’ll be in your hair all the time, you’ll get annoyed and break up with me,” she tried to joke but it was evident that her insecurities were creeping in, and Harry could only grab her face and place a tender kiss on her lips, “I’m sure, there’s nothing i’d love more than to see your hoodies, guitar picks, those posters you’ve kept since you were 18 in your room, in my house. So yeah, I’m sure” his words instantly made her melt, she still couldn’t believe that she was lucky enough to call this man her boyfriend.
“I love you, H,” she told him sincerely, taking in the intimate moment, “And I love you, bandmate.” he obnoxiously pecked her face multiple times making her laugh, a new chapter was waiting for them when the tour was over.
//
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yourinstagram offended because the bossman doesn’t allow us to have an ice cream machine on tour
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harryfan1 HOTTTT
paulithepsm I second this
harrystyles We’re going to be Healthy On Tour x
↳ harryfan2 NOT THIS
↳ yourinstagram oh shut up
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harryupdates Harry with a dog in Chicago today !
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harryfan1 SO DAMN DOMESTIC
harryfan2 I saw him!! he was with YN and they were so adorable truly the softest couple ever
harryfan3 he knows how to pet a dog i’m coming up
harryfan4 yn is one lucky bitch
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#harry styles fake instagram#harry styles imagine#harry styles writing#harry styles blurb#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#bandmate!yn#harrysfolklore#harry styles headcanon#harry styles story#harry styles au#harry styles fake social media#harry styles fic rec#harry styles instagram concept#harry styles fan fiction#1k
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Hello 🤗 can I pls request dating + jealousy headcanons for Harry from windbreaker? Hope you have a great day 😊 thank you ❤️
Harry Shepherd Windbreaker : dating + jealousy headcanon
Genre: headcanon, fluff
CW: MDNI, slight mention of smut, fluff, jealousy
A/N: I've got a weird crush for Harry so I'm really happy when I get requests with him. I hope I can get even more! Thank you for the request!!💕
If we could start with something, the first thing to say is that Harry is not the nicest kind of boyfriend. He has quite a foul mouth and doesn’t differentiate where or with whom he uses that.
There is no doubt though, that he tries to correct that habit of his when he is talking with you. And you can sense that and are extremely happy that for you he is trying to change that.
He is the kind of boyfriend that notices. Even if he is throwing a fit about a race, even if he is blinded by rage due to something, the slightest flinch or scared expression coming from you will make him immediately stop what he is doing and try to calm down. He doesn’t want to scare you in any way possible.
Although he might have a thing or two to say about your cooking he never leaves the plate unfinished, he actually asks for a refill just to get it over with so he won’t have to eat the same thing again next time. Yet, he tries not to hurt your feelings by giving just some subtle constructive criticism about adding a bit more salt or stuff like that.
He is the kind who loves showering with you, there is something about the feeling of the water dripping down your frame that makes him go crazy. As you both wash each other's body, so close skins, brushing against one another excite him and at the same time, relax him to such an extent he will do one of the two things after. Intense sex or sleep hugging you tightly like a little baby.
No matter which of the two he chooses to do he will end up falling asleep holding you because your presence calms him immensely.
He is rough during sex and he does try hard not to be. No matter how much he does, your body will never end up unbruised. How could it anyway with such a big and strong guy, you are lucky to end up with just that. His stamina too is one of a kind, especially when he sees you dressed sexily. So don’t do that if you don’t want to end up staying in bed for a whole week or worse end up at the doctor. Embarrassing! Do not recommend it.
Jealous? He is extremely to the point you fear the idea of someone else coming up to flirt with you because you know well enough Harry won’t be calm about it, he will be furious. You are his and only his and no one should even dare to approach you.
Well, not many have the guts to as you both stay attached to the hip most of the time. Who would dare approach you while the bulky , huge blonde guy stands next to you anyway?
He also won’t let it pass if anyone catcalls you or stares at you for more than a normal person should. Yet, he never stops you from dressing in any kind of way you won’t.
“It’s fine I can beat them all up, so if you like it wear it.” He says if you ever worry about wearing way too revealing outfits.
#windbreaker webtoon#windbreaker x reader#windbreaker characters#windbreaker manhwa#windbreaker headcanon#windbreaker harry#windbreaker harry shepherd x reader
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hey can you write one where Harry is traveling on a regular flight instead of a private one to go to a show, and he sits next to y/n and they start talking, and then he takes her to the bathroom and fucks with her there.
That’s Harry fucking Styles.
You think.
You’re almost positive. You can’t exactly see his face. Obscured by dark (although incredibly expensive looking) sunglasses.
His sweatshirt is large. Large enough to fall to his wrists, effectively hiding any skin, and making it nearly impossible to distinguish him by his tattoos.
He doesn’t…look famous. Although you guess that’s a pretty rude assumption to make. Anybody can look famous.
But…this is main class. Harry Styles would never be caught dead in main class…right?
And maybe it’s not about his ego. Maybe he simply wanted to switch things up. Or help the environment? You’re not entirely sure his reasoning (after all, you’re not the rich popstar slash model slash actor) but you are almost ninety-nine percent sure that this is him sitting beside you.
Well, one seat away.
Thankfully, he was the only other person in your row, and when booking your ticket, you both apparently chose to keep an empty seat between you.
Which is almost a necessity, just in case you accidentally get stuck next to a sneezer, or a baby, or one of those old guys who watches porn when he thinks nobody is looking.
You hadn’t noticed him when he sat down. Were already pulling out your book and continuing to the next chapter.
You had barely offered a glance when the stewardess offered bottles of water and some chips. You had declined. He had accepted the water.
Which hadn’t been all that exciting before, but now you can’t help but wonder if it’s for his throat.
Is he on tour right now? Or maybe visiting family? A girlfriend? Is he dating anyone?
You’re a bit embarrassed by your lack of knowledge, but in your defense, he hadn’t really been all that exciting to you growing up. You’d heard a song or two. Knew he sang about fucking fruits or something. But beyond that, not much else.
Now, you regret not having his poster taped to your wall, because maybe if you had, you’d have a better chance of confirming your suspicion.
But, after a few minutes, you realize you’re probably startling the potentially famous or potentially average man beside you and return your focus to your book.
A minute or two goes by. You’ve already forgotten about the mysterious stranger. So engrossed in the plot on the page that you don’t notice his figure lean a bit closer.
“S’good, right?”
You jump, the paperback flying from your grasp before it falls into your lap, your chest heaving and cheeks burning bright red. “Shit—”
“Fuck, sorry—” He leans back, palms midair in surrender. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“No, it’s fine.” Your eyes briefly shut as your hand moves to your chest. “It’s fine, I…I didn’t like that chapter anyway.”
A smile trickles across his lips. “It’s a good book, though, yeah?”
You nod, doing your best not to stare when you realize the lilt in his voice is an accent. And Harry is English, right? Fuck, you can’t remember. Maybe he’s the Irish one. Or the one with a baby. Wait, which one had the baby? Don’t they all have babies now? “Yeah, I like…the pace. The pace is good. And Jeremy. He’s fun.”
“Oh, I fucking love Jeremy.” The stranger’s grin widens and next thing you know, he’s reaching for the rim of his sunglasses.
Oh shit.
It really is him.
You think.
Oh, fuck, don’t stare.
“Yeah, he’s…I think I like him better than Luther,” you force yourself to reply, nodding in agreement. “Not as annoying.”
“Right.” Harry places his elbows on the armrest and leans forward, now at least two inches closer. “No, Luther is such a fucking ass, I don’t know how she puts up with it.”
“Well, she shouldn’t, right?” You turn to him, a bit surprised he shares your opinion. “Like…Jeremy is the clear choice. But she won’t give him a chance cause he’s not as tortured as Luthor and his precious daddy issues.”
He laughs at the mock in your tone, reaching up to run a hand through his curls as the hoodie is pushed off his head to reveal his hair.
Oh, that’s totally fucking him. You’d know Harry Styles’s hairstyle anywhere.
And the rings. You feel yourself physically swallow at the sight of the large medallions adorning his knuckles.
Oh, he’s got great fucking hands. Has he always had such long fucking fingers? Okay, maybe you get it now, maybe you get why everyone is so fucking obsessed with this oddly attractive—
“Exactly, which is the point, I guess,” he’s replying, and your eyes flicker back to his. “S’all the fucking angst.”
“I mean, sure…but they could also just fuck and get it over with.”
He laughs. Loudly. Loud enough that at least three people look over and your ego swells with pride. “Okay, that’s…that’s fair.”
“Exactly. I’m sure it would be great,” you continue, before biting at your lip coyly. “You know…I bet it even tastes like strawberries.”
His expression drops, and for a moment, you’re mortified because you had meant to make a joke and lighten the mood, but maybe he thought you didn’t know who he was. Maybe he was relieved to sit next to someone so oblivious.
And now you’ve blown it and he’s gonna change seats and you really fucked up your one chance because of course you did and—
“Oh, very fucking funny.” A smirk. A rather amused one. “Mhm. Yes, I bet it does.”
Thank fucking God. “Yeah. Maybe some cherries, too.”
“Uh huh.” His head shakes, fingers reaching up to pull at this lip to disguise the smile. “Probably kiwis.”
“Ooo, or peaches! Oh, no wait, that’s not you. That’s the other guy.”
The smile breaks free. “Wow. No, I was flattered, and then you ruined it.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault he snagged it before you did,” you argue, hands raising in submission.
“He did not snag it—”
“No, he snagged it. Might have even done it better than you.”
His brow raises and you fight the giddy grin. “Oh, is that right?”
“Yeah.”
He leans in a bit closer. “I’ll give you one chance to apologize and take it back.”
“Okay, or…hear me out…no.”
A soft chuckle. “Funny.”
“Thanks, I thought so,” you reply, shrugging casually before the conversation comes to a lull and you decide you better quit while you’re ahead. You reach for the book on your lap, thumbing through the pages softly before glancing at him and shaking it in the air excitedly. “Well…they’re about to fuck, so…fingers crossed.”
“Amazing.”
“Yeah!” Nope, too excited. Reel it in. “Uh…I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Yeah,” he agrees before his voice softens. “Or…hear me out…we could share?”
Your heart leaps to your throat as your focus leaves the page to land on him. “Oh?”
“Yeah, I just…fucking forgot my copy,” he stammers, motioning towards the bag at his feet. “And my phone doesn’t have any books…and, the movies here are shit, so I figured…but it’s fine, I can just—”
“No, I’m happy to share.” You open the book a bit wider as a gesture of invitation.
He seems pleased as he unclicks his belt and slides into the seat beside you, now incredibly closer, and oh fuck he smells so good.
You figured he might, but you hadn’t been prepared for the way your mouth nearly drools as the cologne and hair products waft toward you.
Oh, this was not a good idea.
Who the fuck smells good on a plane, anyway? That’s the whole point of flying middle class is that you're gross and smelly and sweaty and hot and—
His fingers reach for the page, pinching them carefully as his eyes move to yours. “Done?”
Oh, you’re far from done.
You force a mute nod, leaning back as if offering room to turn the page.
His arm brushes your shoulder as he flips to the next chapter and despite your best efforts, you suck in a sharp gasp.
And the fucker has the nerve to smirk. “Sorry.”
You shake your head fervently. “S’fine.”
Pull it together, dipshit. Just because he smells like sex on a fucking stick doesn’t mean you can—
“You all right?” He’s still watching, waiting for you to either admit you’re in heat or that you’re just really into the story.
Truthfully, it’s a bit of both.
“Yeah, it’s just…the chapter,” you murmur, nodding towards the book. “Kind of awkward to read with someone else.”
He hums, looking toward the word cock prominently displayed on the page. “Yeah, maybe. Probably be worse if it wasn’t so fucking vanilla.”
You blink. “Oh…is it?”
Truthfully, you’d thought the same thing, but you’re surprised he feels the same.
A nonchalant shrug. “Yeah, like…if he would just slow down, y’know? Take his time with her. Really appreciate her.”
Oh fuck.
“Yeah.” A dry swallow. Your tongue suddenly numb. “Uh, yeah. That’d be…yeah. He should…yeah.”
His lips pull together coyly. “Could slide his hand up the inside of her thigh. Until she’s begging him to touch her. Maybe lean in to kiss her then pull away just before.”
Oh, he’s such a fucking sadist—
“Watch her clench her pretty, little thighs together.” His voice has dropped to a low purr, so deep, you just about fall into it. “Until she’s crying for him. Bet she’s a good crier.”
You force your eyes back down to the page before clearing your throat. “Yeah, well…knowing Luther, that won’t happen.”
You’re attempting to soothe the ache between your legs, the burn of your cheeks as you use humor to force him off the topic.
“No, probably not,” he agrees before his hand slips over the armrest. Just dangles there. Close enough that the tips of his fingers graze your thigh.
And you jolt. Looking down at the fleeting touch with near astonishment. So utterly confused and aroused that you’re afraid you’ll pull a muscle from clenching so hard.
“Sorry, just…getting comfy,” he apologizes, the swing in his tone provocative.
“Oh, are you?” Your response is more flippant, ready to end his game before it can even begin. “Easy, Stranger.”
His head cocks to the side as his eyes sparkle with what looks to be admiration. “Stranger, hm?”
“Well…technically, we’ve never been introduced,” you argue, leaning toward the wall of the plane in an attempt to lessen the hex he has you in. “So, until then…Stranger it is.”
His tongue slips out to wet his lips. “Maybe I’ve got a better idea.”
“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”
His pointer finger raises into the air between you as he motions you closer.
And despite the precarious ask, you oblige, returning to your spot and turning your head so he has access to your ear.
Then, “Maybe I’ll take you to that bathroom and teach you my name. Till you’re crying as you say it. Till you’re screaming it as I come inside you. Till this whole fucking plane knows what my name is.”
You wish you had more control over the way your legs immediately pulled together, but you don’t, and he clocks it like a hawk.
The heat is crawling up your neck as you close the book and set it onto the floor beside you.
You’re not sure if he’s simply playing with you until you cave, if this is some sort of sick game he likes to play to pass the time instead of watching a movie like a normal person, or if he truly means it.
But regardless of his true intentions, you stand. You stand and brush past him as you head for the aisle, watching as his expression drops into one of confusion and concern.
“Where are you going?” he calls right as you make it to the edge of the seat.
You turn, bracing your hands on the armrest as you lean closer, now right in his face. “You’ve got five minutes, Stranger. Don’t be late.”
You watch the smile fall from his lips as his pupils practically double in size and if you were worried that he wasn’t as aroused as you are, that doubt is now wiped from your mind.
Poor thing looks ready to keel over and as you walk back toward the small restroom, you can’t resist the proud look forming on your face.
And about three and a half minutes later, there’s a knock on the lavatory door.
“Hi, Stranger.”
(I edged you, sorry, don't be mad!!)
Next Part:
~ Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun pt. 2*
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
#harry#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#harry styles request#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles one shot#harry styles fan#harry edward styles#blurb#request
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Markle's Folly by u/C-La-Canth
Markle's Folly
Today, I watched a movie based on the show Downton Abbey. For those who don't know, it's a British series set at a beautiful English manor in the early 20th century which depicts the lives of the aristocrats who live there and their domestic staff. The movie I saw takes place in 1927, and the plot revolves around a visit to the estate by King George V and his wife, Queen Mary. King George was Queen Elizabeth's grandfather, and the movie (although fictitious) takes place when Elizabeth would have been a baby. As I watched this sumptuous show (which won more Emmys than any other international program ever), all I could think about was how profoundly stupid and shallow MM is. Of course, the show's story happened a century ago, and some of the customs and formality have fallen out of fashion. Just the same, the excitement and respect that the citizens had for their King and Queen, and the dedication and loyalty they exhibited is similar to what people still feel. I remember seeing the Queen years ago at the Highland Games at Braemar. Her carriage made a loop around the field, and to see her sweet smile and royal wave was absolutely thrilling. Anyway, every time I think about how Meghan, that loathsome, festering pustule of a human being, had a one-in-eight-billion chance to meet HLMTQ, chat with her, live amongst the priceless treasures of those amazing properties, participate in one of the world's most historically rich environments, to listen and learn from a gracious and wise woman who'd met the most prominent leaders of the 20th and 21st century......I literally feel nauseated. I don't think there is anyone else in history who has squandered more privilege and opportunity. Harry forfeited it, but at least he knew what he was losing. But I don't think for even one nanosecond could Meghan stop feeding that insatiable ego of hers. She was so intoxicated with her own sense of importance and value (I am talking lunatic level here) that she was incapable of appreciating the potential treasure she was gifted. I don't know of any human who has fallen as far as Meghan Markle has for such petty reasons. I am also convinced that she is the worst kind of coward: when faced with the relatively minor task of adjusting to a new lifestyle, she fled (with her insipid dolt of a husband), and she tried her best to punish everyone else for her own weakness and failures. I don't know how a normal person can operate knowing how much damage they've done like she has, but then again---I don't think she is normal.
post link: https://ift.tt/40lfBU2
author: C-La-Canth
submitted: May 01, 2024 at 05:04AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit
disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.
#SaintMeghanMarkle#harry and meghan#meghan markle#prince harry#fucking grifters#Worldwide Privacy Tour#Instagram loving bitch wife#Backgrid#voetsek meghan#walmart wallis#markled#archewell#archewell foundation#megxit#duke and duchess of sussex#duke of sussex#duchess of sussex#doria ragland#rent a royal#sentebale#clevr blends#lemonada media#archetypes with meghan#invictus#invictus games#Sussex#WAAAGH#american riviera orchard#C-La-Canth
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OMG PLZ WRITE PT 2 TO DONUTS PLEASE!!!!🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
Venice Film Festival
A/N: the people have spoken!
SUMMARY: YN is Harry's date to the premiere of Don't Worry Darling. (3k)
GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn
(Part 1 Here!) Donuts // SINCE 2010 masterlist
Harry is good under pressure, he’s been trained for almost every situation for every problem his line of work throws his way since he was 16 years old. He can flash a dimpled smile in front of a camera and gracefully swerve his way out of an inappropriate question.
Movie premieres were supposed to be an exciting event. It’s the time when directors get to display their newest project, actors get to see mingle and have a good time, and where everyone can see their hard work come to fruition. It’s supposed to be a lively, joyful experience.
Key words: supposed to be.
With all of the drama that’s surrounding the director, the actors and some of the content in the film, this was going to be an interesting event for not only the people involved but for everyone watching.
So yeah, Harry’s good under pressure but the only person who can see through the cracks in his mask is YN. When she’s around, the world and its troubles seem to fade into the background, her light breaking through even in the darkest places. She grounds him in the toughest storms. She encourages and humbles him in ways like no one else can. YN was truly made for him and it’s a fact that Harry still has trouble wrapping his head around.
Add in the fact that their relationship has been a public piece of information shared almost two years ago, there was no questioning the fact that she’s was going to be Harry’s official date to the Venice Film Festival.
“Ready, baby?” YN gives her love an encouraging smile. The couple just pulled up into the queue line up of cars, slowly inching their way for their drop off at the red carpet.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Harry sighs out, giving her a small smile in return. His hand leaves its resting place on her exposed thigh and intertwines it with hers. “Thank you for being here with me. S’so much better with you by my side.”
“Eh, had nothing better to do on a Monday night anyways.” YN teases, hoping to ease some of his nerves. She’s relieved when he lets out a chuckle. “But seriously. M’always here for yeh, always.”
Harry can’t find the words to express his gratitude for the woman next to him. Going against her make-up artist's playful warning of no smooching in fear of messing up his work, Harry gently cups her jaw and leans over to place his lips on hers. She giggles against his lips but turns her head to deepen the kiss, placing her hands on his chest.
“Sorry,” He smiles once he reluctantly pulled away, now only one car away from having to exit the vehicle. “Just wasn’t gonna be able to do that for a while.”
“Well, I certainly wasn’t complaining. Plus m’looking fabulous right now so, how can blame yeh?” YN pinches at his lips, trying to wipe off some of the gloss that transferred over from their kiss. He just furrows his eyes at her in disbelief, like it’s hitting him yet again that she’s his. That she agreed to marry him.
“How did I manage to snag you, huh?”
“Beats me. I’m just in it for your money. Just letting you know that now.”
Harry lovingly presses his lips to her hand by his mouth, “I love you so much, baby.”
“I love you more.”
“Not possible.”
The knock on Harry’s car window startles them both, he almost forgot he had to go to this event altogether by YN’s distractions. It hits him know that she succeeded because his nerves have been shot down to a zero. With one final kiss to her knuckles, he slides his Gucci sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose gives the escort outside the ‘go’ signal.
Harry ducks out from the sleek car and YN can already hear the fans and paparazzi outside begin to yell and scream at the sight of him. But the noise only grows further when Harry extends his hand out to his fiancé. She grips his hand before gracefully sliding out of the vehicle next to him.
There's a tiny part of him that breaks inside at the fact that she's not wearing her enagagement ring, but they both knew that all eyes were going to be hyper-focused on them today and their fans surely would have discovered that one of her everyday rings looks more wedding like than others.
But it's certainly made up for when she gives him that golden smile that never fails to make him weak in the knees. As they pose outside the car for their initial pictures for the night, Olivia is posing for her own pictures on the red carpet only a couple of feet away. When she looks over at them, the cameramen capture her smile faltering at the happy couple, clearly not expecting Harry to have brought his significant other to ‘her’ premiere.
No one can deny the fact that they truly are the power couple of the century. They both look absolutely fabulous as Harry leads them onto the red carpet, her hand securely tucked into the crook of his arm while the holds the length of her custom Gucci dress. They naturally move with one another as they begin to stand and pose for photos, Harry snaking his arm around her waist for his hand to rest on her hip.
When he feels her hand on the bottom of his back, he's reminded of when he was 19 years old, posing with the rest of the band on some red carpet in front of flashing camera. He wished and longed for the day that she could be his. That one day he didn't have to feel guilty for the butterflies swirling around his tummy. That he didn't have to feel bad for blushing at her smiling at him, for being in love with his band mate.
Now with a smirk on his face, he gladly pulls her in closer and relishes in the way she looks up at him and gives him a knowing smile. They barely notice the way the camera flashes intensify when he brings his lips to her temple for a quick kiss, capturing the physical affection the couple like to keep private.
Since things have drastically changed since being in the band and now being solo artists, posing for pictures has partially become a separate activity for the two. He reluctantly has to let go of her hand as they both have to take some pictures by themselves.
But he can't help himself from glancing over at his love who’s only an arm’s length away from him. She's gracefully shifting her head at the various photographers. She holds onto the top part of the slit of her dress by her hips, working with the fabric of her outfit to best present herself. How can he not look at her while she has her thigh is deliciously out on display for everyone to see?
He doesn’t care if he gets told off later by his or her managers because, after barely one around of photos, Harry can’t take it much longer. He walks the short distance between them and snakes his arm back around her waist once again. It surprises her and it makes her scrunch up her nose as she laughs at her clingy fiancé. Not to mention that the couple pays no mind to the director a bit away from them. Too caught up in each other to realize that she makes her picture rounds short and walks further down the red carpet quicker than originally intended.
YN puts a hand to his chest, leaning up to say in his ear, “Just couldn’t keep away, huh?”
“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Harry says in her ear with a smirk. He is gifted with one of her infamous eye rolls and turns her attention back to the photographers. She poses up close to her fiancé, her back angled to the cameras as she looks at them over her shoulders. She’s a natural.
“Now I know you’re not hogging this beautiful woman from the rest of us.” The couple chuckles when they turn their heads when they hear Gemma Chan’s teasing tone.
“Smile for the camera!” Chris Pine says excitedly, holding up a disposable camera to his face. The couple humors him, turning to pose for him and giving their best smiles. He captures one where Harry holds up his infamous peace sign while YN flips the camera off with a scrunch of her nose.
The small group laughs and goes about greeting one another in rounds of hugs and compliments.
“Any word to the boss lady?” Gemma discreetly nods over to Olivia and she smiles when YN scoffs.
“Don’t plan on it. This is supposed to be a fun night. Just going to enjoy ourselves the best we can for right now.”
“Yeah don’t worry about it.” The beautiful actress reassures YN. “I’ll make sure to stand with H for the group pictures later.”
Some of the stress is instantly lifted for Harry’s sake. She’s so grateful to have know Gemma for as long as she has. They first when the band first formed as she’s always been a loyal and caring friend to both her and Harry.
“Harry and I appreciate that.” YN lets out a relieved chuckle and gives the actress a careful hug to not mess up their wardrobe. “Thank you.”
“Hey, what about me?” YN giggles at Chris’s playful frown.
“How can I forget?” She’s quick to give him a hug as well. “Well don’t you look dashing?”
“This old thing?” He comically wiggles the end of his bow tie. He’s always been a fun character, always in the mood for a laugh and lifting up the mood with a joke or two. “Just plucked it out from the back of my closet. And you, beautiful as always madame.”
“You’re too sweet. And a smart thing you are for bringing that.” YN taps at the disposable camera in his hand. “How fun.”
“Do you want one? I have another one here.” Chris says while reaching into his pocket to relieve another camera and it brings out a laugh from YN.
“Are yeh sure?”
“Go ahead. Got plenty to spare.” And it only makes her laugh harder when she thinks about him bringing a whole bag filled with disposable cameras on the way to Venice. “Oh! Being called over but I’ll see you around, YN.” He gives her a final hug before hurrying over to who she assumes is his manager.
When she sees Gemma also ending her conversation with Harry, YN slides her thumb across the small wheel on the side of her camera and brings it to her eye. When he turns to her, she’s able to capture his smile with one click of a button.
“Is that Chris’s?” He chuckles, gently taking the camera from her hands.
“He gave me one.” She giggles back and puts her hands to her cheeks with her eyes closed when he lifts the camera to take a picture of her. “Now we can capture some of our time here in Venice.”
“And they’re hard copies, too.” Harry teasingly raises his eyebrows at her and she quickly catches his thinking. “Need to update a few pictures, hum?”
“Down boy.” She snatches the camera right back to tuck it into one of the inner pockets of his coat. “We can discuss that back at the hotel.” She winks before being escorted to their next designated section.
The time consists of taking more photos with some of the cast members. YN even sneaks her way over to some of the fans waiting excitingly by the barricade, talking to them in Italian and taking some pictures.
As the couple talks amongst themselves, they turn their heads when there is an eruptive roar from the crowds. And rightfully so as they see the one and only Florence Pugh make her way onto the red carpet. Flo texted her earlier in the day telling her all about her feelings for the festival. It came as to surprise for everyone but YN that she finally made her way to the premiere, making her fashionably late appearance for the movie she was staring in.
YN wastes no time reaching into the inner pockets of Harry’s blazer, pulling out her disposable camera. Harry chuckles as he sees his fiancé hurriedly shove her way to the side of the group of photographers, leaning sideways in front of Flo to get a good angle for a picture.
“Over here, Flo!” YN waves her hand above her head. “Yes, work it! You’re gorgeous, babe!”
Florence laughs at her friend’s antics and poses as if YN were an actual photographer. After that, she wastes no time quickly walking into the actress’s open arms.
“You look so hot!” YN yells above all the commotion.
“So do you! I’m so happy you’re here.”
“I’m so happy you’re here. I was waiting for my date to show up.” YN teases before giving into another tight hug. Florence makes her way around to hug her other cast members, Harry giving his co-star a quick kiss on the cheek before they wrap their arms around one another. After the stars of the movie and YN and Flo took some pictures together on the red carpet, it was time for the event everyone was dreading.
“Harry, we need you for the group photos.” One of the red carpet escorts comes up to the couple with a smile.
“Do I have to?” Harry mutters quietly to her, keeping the smile on his face to not let anyone see his dread for the pictures.
“It’ll only be for a bit.” YN straightens out his dramatic collar but leans up to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. He smiles at her touch as her thumb gently wipes off any of the gloss she left behind on his dimple. “Smile real big for me, yeah?”
“Only for you, my love.” Olivia has been eyeing the couple all night and it sting only intensifies in her chest when Harry brings YN’s hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles before having to plaster on a smile for the photos with her.
YN truly felt for the cast and crew in those group photos. The tension was so awkward and heavy that you can cut it with a knife. Her first movie premiere was so different from this one. The Little Women cast was lively and cracking jokes. They all held hands, spoke with one another the whole night, and happily worked with the director.
There wasn’t any drama or butting heads among the people working together—it was an enjoyable experience.
All she can do is watch the cast and director of Don't Worry Darling shift uncomfortably with one another and have the reminder that this mess is almost over.
...
When the screen turns black and the end credits slowly start to appear, the whole theater politely stands on their feet to give the movie a standing ovation.
YN had loads of opinions about the movie, some good but the majority of it not so good with both the knowledge of what happened during the making of the film and by just watching what was presented. She knows that she can for certain that Florence and Harry are magnificent actors and did their jobs to the best of their abilities. She can’t blame the cast, they were just doing what they were told and got sucked into the mess that is Olivia Wilde.
And she certainly can’t blame Florence for leaving the theater during the standing ovation. If she were in her position, she might have walked out during the film so she commends the actress for her strength in lasting as long as she did.
YN squeezes her fiancé’s shoulders from her seat directly behind him. She gives him a smile in congratulations and Harry can practically feel the annoyance radiating off of her when Olivia taps his arm. When he leans behind Chris to hear her tell him that he did a good job, he just gives her a polite nod. However, when he faces forward again, YN can see the tension back in his shoulders.
That’s the last straw for her. She’s ready to tell Olivia off, having so much information to tell her since she’s been holding it off for so long. Right as she’s about to open her mouth to say something, YN’s caught off guard when Harry spins himself around, tightly grips the sides of her face, and smashes his lips to hers.
They’re both well aware of the fact that aside from the video that exposed their relationship almost two years ago, there has only been a few times where pictures or videos of them have captured them kissing. They’re also aware of the amount of flashing cameras directed toward them, the sound of whistles ringing through the large theater. And they’re both well aware that either one of them can give a flying fuck at any of that when YN kisses him back with her hands on his cheeks.
The kiss doesn’t last very long but it was surely enough to diminish whatever hatred she had inside her. She’s reminded once again that nobody else matters; it’s them against the world. That he is hers and no one else.
So when Harry turns back around to face forward, he can practically feel Olivia burning holes in the side of his head.
But does he truly care when the smirk on his lips is covered in his fiancé’s lip gloss?
Taglist:
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Amore, how do you think Y/N would react to those pics of harry and olivia's yacht? Even though I agreed to the stunt at first, I think I would go crazy and want to kill harry after seeing those pictures all over the place
Oh see would be pissed...
Warning- Angst, argument, accusation of cheating, crying, swearing, mention of pandemic, Olivia Wilde, Grammatical errors, fluff.
Not proof read sorry.
*****
Normally Y/N was a very chill person considering she was a teacher dealing with kids everyday she had a lot of patience.
But everyone has their limits and hers has been running thin for a while. You see it started when Harry got the role of Jack Chambers in movie Don't worry darling. He was happy, excited and so were you, it was a challenging role and that's why he loved it.
The filming started but due to the pandemic it shut down. It was the time when y/n and Flo became good friends. Both of them would cook, bake and try all type of different recipes together and sometimes even Harry would join.
Then the film resumed in few weeks, everyone tested and safe. She always had to keep an eye on the director though, it wasn't first soemone tried to flirt with him. Her boyfriend was the most beautiful man ever and that came with it's disadvantages.
Movie already had enough publicity by having Harry. His fans were going crazy about the role and set pictures.
She knew what the role was and how the plot went, well the originial one ofcourse cause as the filming went you started to see changes. The oh so lovely director decided to add herself in the movie which wasn't in the plot first but what's for you? It was her movie and it wasn't hurting Harry so you let it be.
But then one day the meeting and boy oh boy she wished she never went to that meeting.
You thought it was typical pr meeting called by Olivia and Jeff and to some extent it was but then.
"I think we should make a pr relationship" Mark, Olivia's manager said. Both you and Harry were confused cause Flo was engaged and Harry was in relationship with Y/N so who was it going to be?
"We have discussed it and came up with Harry and Olivia to get into a relationship" Jeff said looking at Harry. It felt like Y/N wasn't even there by the way he was talking.
"She's married Jeff what the fuck?" Harry said angrily.
"We are getting divorced and separated for a month" Olivia shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.
"Doesn't matter. I already have a girlfriend" Harry said as a matter of fact trying to end that conversation right there.
First time since she went there Jeff looked at her, with annoyed expression. Rolling his eyes he sat up straight.
"Harry it will be good for the movie. Your fans love to talk and this will give them reason to talk, beautiful and older. It wilk eat it up" Jeff tried to convince Harry, "Also it wasn't like they know about Y/N anyway" He sat back.
And that was enough for her to run out of the room.
She thought maybe Harry would disagree but no, he agreed. Telling her it was just for show and when the movie is done he will tell everyone about them.
Now here she was months later sitting on their couch going through her private instagram when she saw the pics. Pics of them holding each other a lot closer than she would have liked but that was nothing compared to seeing him kissing her on yacht, the same one they went on the date.
When Harry told Y/N he was going to Italy to record she didn't think she would be there too.
Y/N felt like went through all the stages of and got stuck at Anger. She rarely got angry and mostly calmed herself down but that was unacceptable. She was seething as angry fat tears rolled down her face.
The door to the house opened Harry entering with big smile, hands filled with bags his put down near the door and took off his jacket. "Baby I'm home" He said walking inside only for his smile to disappear and get replaced with concerned frown.
You were sitting on couch, legs to your chest supporting your head as you cried. You lips were bitting red almost on brink of bleeding.
"Baby what happened" He quickly rushed to you sitting down in front of you. He brought his hand up to look at you and check if you have hurted yourself but you fliched and sat back.
Millions of thoughts went through Y/N's in between of Harry getting home and her finding the pictures and seeing him in front of her with concered sad eyes felt like a sick joke.
"Get off" she sat up putting her feet on floor. Harry stood up and sat in the loveseat. His brain realizing what had happened.
"You saw it" he mumbled quietly as if confessing crime.
"Ofcourse I saw it asshole. Was it not what you wanted?" Y/N screamed angrily. She stood up pacing around the room back and forth while Harry sat there like a child getting yelled.
He was feeling guilty a lot guilty. She trusted him with her everything and he broke it and now the love of his life was crying in front of him because of him.
"Baby Jeff said-" "I can't give a flying fuck about what Jeff said. Jeff is not my boyfriend you are" Y/N cut him off. Harry was stunned seeing her curse like that. He never saw you get mad so this was certainly new.
"If you wanted her you should have told me sooner Harry. I would have left, it would have broken my heart but you didn't have to cheat on me and break my trust" She stood there sobbing, her whole body felt weak, she felt like she would faint.
Harry's eyes widened when he realized you weren't mad about pics but you thought he cheated. Oh he was fucked.
"Oh no no. Baby I swear I didn't cheat" Harry quickly ran up to you and sat you down on the couch as you looked weak. He held you close as you sobbed on his tshirt.
"I wod never omg please don't think that" Harry held her tighter as if it woumd convince her.
Y/N felt relief of sort knowing he didn't cheat but still the whole in her heart wasn't filled. She was aching, her whole body, her heart. She was tired of giving, giving and giving there wasn't anything left to give now.
"Harry" She called.
"Yeah babe" He kissed her forehead making her shudder.
"I love you" she looked up at him with wet eyelashes. He smiled softly holding her face watching her melt into him.
"I love you too baby" He said pressing his forehead against his.
"But I can't do this" she said pulling away. Harry looked at her confused but also knowing where this was going.
"I can't see another photos of her with you or anyone as matter of fact. I can't be okay with sharing who I love with someone else" she stood up. Y/N wiped the tears off her face knowing her makeup was probably ruined.
"No no Y/N baby please" Harry begged, "It's just few months the contract will end and then there will be no one else but you and me" He held onto her legs, his face digging into her stomach.
She looked up to control her tears but to no avail. She ran her fingers through his hair and then pushed him back. His eyes were matching hers, red, puffy and filled with tears.
"Please" Harry whispered.
"I'm sorry"
And with that she left.
7 hours later
Harry spent most time crying on the couch where she left him. Holding onto himself, he cried his beart out knowing he was the reason she left.
Then he spent half hour breaking most things and punching hole in wall.
And when the sun went down along with his mood and adrenaline he sat on the kitchen island and drank away his misery.
6 hours later
Harry woke up feeling his body stiff and his head pounding. Be was sleeping on a hard surface that sure wasn't his comfortable bed. Opening his eyes was hard as the lights from windows were hurting his eyes.
"Y/N" He groaned, "Baby please close the drapes" He tried to roll over on his stomach only to fall down on floor. He groaned in pain and sat up slowly. That's when he realized he fell asleep in the kitchen last night with bottle scattered everywhere and the reason he was there was cause of you have left him.
He heard his phone ringing and he groaned not wanting to talk to anyone.
He picked his phone which was on tiled floor beside him. There were multiple miss calls and messages.
15 missed calls from Mum.
5 missed calls from Jeff.
1 missed call from Olivia Wilde.
But none from you. He opened his message thinking you might have texted him but no nothing. Only a single text from Olivia.
Olivia Wilde
Want to go to coffee? I saw a nice cafe near your house :)
He felt like he was going to be sick and he did. He stood up quickly and threw up in kitchen sink. He cleaned his mouth and decied to call his mum.
"Harry Edward Styles" Anne yelled from the other side, "I was worried about you!"
"Mum" He croaked out, "I fucked up"
3 hours later
Y/N was miserable to say the least. Harry was love of her life and now she had lost him just cause she was selfish.
But that wasn't true wanting partner all to herself wasn't selfish so she threw that thought away.
She was at a hotel drowning herself in wine and pity. She was just ending second season of AHS when there was a knock on her door. She did order pizza so she stood up on her wobbly feet and covered herself as much as could in a gown as she didn't have anything to sleep in and opened the door.
"Thanks for this I was dying starving" She chuckled. She looked up and saw the green eyes and that died down.
"What are you doing here?" She asked crossing her arms on her chest.
"Want to talk" He said softly, "Please" He insisted.
Y/N sighed too weak for him and his puppy eyes. She stood aside and let him in locking the door behind.
"These are for you" Harry said giving her favorite blue hydrangeas flower to her. She smiled taking the flowers from him and putting them down on table.
"How did you know I was here?" She finally asked.
"You used our joint account card while paying for this" He shrugged shifting awkwardly. She palmed herself in head for her stupidity.
"That's beside the point baby I just want to say sorry" He said moving closer to her. Y/N looked up seeing sincerity in his eyes.
"I called to Jeff and told him the contract was off, I don't care if they kick me out of movie I just want you with me. Please, I can live without that stupid movie but you, a few hours without you felt like hell" He said. Y/N was bitting her lips so she wouldn't cry cause she didn't want Harry to lose this film he worked hard.
"Harry I-" Sh goes to talk but Harry juat holds her and shakes his head.
"I know but I just want to know that I want you and if you will have my stupid ass back, I assure you I will try not to do something idiotic and hurt you" He pleaded, he was desperate if that point she asked him to get on his knees and beg he would.
"But if you don't want to that's fine. I will not bother you again" He goes to pull from her but she doesn't let him.
"First of all don't even speak over me when I'm trying to speak" she said cocking her hesd to the side, "And second, you're an idiot. A stupid dumbass." Harry forwns at her words.
"But you're my dumbass and I love you a lot so you're lucky" Y/N completes her sentence with smile.
He picks her up pushing his lips on hers, kissing her like a thirsty man finding water in desert. Their lips moved in sync, he ushered her to wrap her legs around him. After a while they pulled apart, heaving for air. Their lips glossy, swollen, stretched in widest smile.
"Might have to make up a bit more though" Y/n said pecking his lips. She squealed as he threw her on the bed.
"Oh I will do the making up just fine"
*****
Let me know what you think. If you want to request more or talk to me do it here♡
#harry styles x reader#harry styles#harry styles fluff#harry styles writing#harry styles smut#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles angst#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#angst harry#argument#boyfriend harry
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italian surprise (harry’s angel au)
pairing: harry styles x female reader
summary: not wanting to miss the end of tour and knowing harry’s missing his baby girl, you knew getting on a plane to surprise him was a no brainer..
warnings: maybe slight angst (not really?) v fluffy 🫶🏻
a/n: just a little something, i feel like it’s bad but oh well, lol i’m so overwhelmed, burnt out and tired y’all i cannot; i’m so sad love on tour is ending, i genuinely do not know what to do😭
You knew Harry had been really not feeling like himself whilst being on tour without you or Violet, of course he’d been keeping it to himself mostly, but Madi, Sarah and even Jeff had been keeping you updated as the days since he left went on. Italy would be where his final show was taking place and already his family and friends had all flown into Bologna to attend, leaving you and miss bee to yourselves in London at the time. Truthfully it really was a no brainer once your paediatrician gave you the okay, to use Harry’s team’s jet to get to Bologna to surprise him.
Jeff had managed to arrange it so Harry wouldn’t know, it might have been a bit mean to not tell him but you really wanted to surprise him and see his genuine reaction to his girls showing up in Italy. You sat comfortable on the leather couch towards the back of the jet, Violet sound asleep in her carrier beside you, a little black out curtain attachement over her so she could sleep, hopefully for the entirety of the flight. Even if you wanted to sleep you were filled with butterflies and anxiety, eager to get there and to be reunited with your love.
The plan was you’d land and a car would be waiting for you both, then it would take you to the hotel where Jeff would be waiting for you to then go ahead and meet Harry where his team and family were having dinner.
Only a few hours left until you’d be back in his arms, and Violet would be back with her daddy.
-
Violet had woken up once to eat on the drive to the hotel, and remained awake when Jeff held her so you could quickly change and go to the washroom, when you returned he was smiling watching as Violet looked around
“She likes you, she’s quite picky with people these days”
Jeff smiled shrugging his shoulders
“What can I say, I’ve got the baby touch”
“Baby touch?”
Laughing you took her back from him before you grabbed the little baby wrap you brought so you could carry her on your chest instead of bringing the car seat with you. Violet loved to be carried with it, so it was no surprise she fell back asleep as you and Jeff began walking towards the small cafe they’d rented out for one more team dinner and celebration.
The lights surrounding the back patio were gorgeous, making the scene look like something from a fairytale, you could hear the laughter and chatting from the entrance to the restaurant where Jeff smiled leaving you to get ready and walk in alone. Taking a few deep breaths you stepped through the entrance, walking towards the outdoor space where everyone sat, of course being the soft natured person you were, could feel the tears lining your eyes just knowing how happy Harry would be.
Harry still hadn’t noticed you’d arrived, so you made your way down the stairs, stopping at the bottom before smiling
“Any chance you have room for two more?”
In an instance eyes snapped to your direction, noises of surprise and excitement coming from his family and friends, his band mates cheering while Harry just stood there, almost as if he was trying to figure out if you were really there. When he snapped out of it he walked towards you, his eyes glassy, shoulders deflating as if he’d just been relieved of a massive weight
“Surprise H”
At first he said nothing, gently wrapping his arms around you, careful to leave space for Violet who was still against your chest, now waking up slowly. Harry held you both for a few minutes, before he pulled back to hold your face and press a kiss to your lips
“You’re actually here”
“We are baby”
You wiped a few of his tears away before looking down to Violet
“Let’s get you out of here so daddy can have his cuddles hmm?”
Harry stood with you as you got Violet out of the wrap, making sure she was comfortable before Harry took her gently, holding her softly in his arms
“look at you baby, have you gotten a bit bigger? i think you have”
Smiling you rested your head on his shoulder for a moment, just enjoying being back together as a family again
“well she has been eating like crazy, she’s gonna be a chunky girl soon”
Harry smiled looking at you
“mummy’s been feeding you good then, nothing wrong with being a little chunky”
You let out a little laugh, running a finger across her cheek, there was never a day that went by since she came into your lives that you could believe she was real and right in front of you.
“good thing she’s our chunky girl then”
Harry smiled, looking at you
“Thank you…for bringing her, for loving me…for everything angel, m’heart is forever yours”
You could already feel the tears line your eyes again, so you opted to press a kiss to his lips, before the three of you said your hello’s and got settled at the table, laughter being shared amongst friends and family. This final show was going to be one to remember, and though you were sad to see tour go, you were looking forward to getting some quiet time with your family.
Just you, Harry and little Violet.
#harry’s angel au🦋❤️🔥#harry’s angel🦋❤️🔥#harry’s angel headcannons🦋❤️🔥#harry styles x angel 🦋#asks with harry and angel🦋#harry styles & angel 🦋#angel x violet styles#harry styles x violet styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles x female reader#harry styles angst#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x girlfriend reader#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#dadrry#dad!harry#dad!harry styles#rueswrites#ruesanswers#ruesanons<3#ruesasks
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hello, can you tell me the most popular/ must read Larry fics please?
Hello, anon! So I wouldn't necessarily categorize "most popular" and "must read" as the same thing for me, if that makes sense. That being said, I'll give you the ten most popular HL fics and then give you five more that I think are also "must reads" in addition to the top ten most popular ones. These other "must read" fics are ones that are indeed quite popular as well and that are particularly loved by me. If you'd like a longer rec of "must read" fics, you can fill out the suggestion box on the pinned post!
Here are the top ten most popular HL fics (by kudos) on ao3:
Young & Beautiful by Velvetoscar
Escapade by dolce_piccante
Unbelievers by isthatyoularry
Fading by tothemoonmydear
Baby Heaven's in your Eyes by theboyfriendstagram
Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can't Lose by dolce_piccante
Bloodsport by isthatyoularry
Relief Next To Me by dolce_piccante
Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore
And Then a Bit by infinitelymint
Five more "must read" fics:
Love Is A Rebellious Bird by 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews
AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.
Don't hum Bolero.
Nothing But You On My Mind by nonsensedarling
Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.
Into The Blue by zarah5
AU. In which Louis is Harry's scuba instructor and quite happy to provide the requested special treatment, pun fully intended. It can't be all that difficult to convince Harry that they're on the same page, right? Also, Niall and Liam may or may not be dating, and Zayn is surrounded by emotionally stunted idiots. He bears it with dignity.
Where You Lay by HamPalpert
When Louis's upcoming heat threatens his success at his new dream job, he asks the best (and only) person he can think of to help him through it: his best mates' best mate, Harry Styles. Harry reluctantly accepts, and together the two navigate a strange friends with benefits relationship that quickly turns complicated.
Emperor's New Clothes by sunsetmog
The fact that Louis’s most precious belonging was a cat with a face like thunder and an uncanny ability to cover every single inch of Louis’s clothing with cat hair was something that Louis chose not to think about too much.
or: Harry’s a pop star and Louis isn’t, and there’s a non-disclosure agreement where there used to be a relationship.
#ask#anon#ficrec#mustread#classic#sunsetmog#hampalpert#100percentsassy#gloriaandrews#nonsensedarling#zarah5#velvetoscar#dolcepiccante#isthatyoularry#infinitelymint#mediawhore#theboyfriendstagram#tothemoonmydear
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