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gucciwins · 9 months

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one last message

word count: 2.2k

a/n: love on tour has come to an end 😭 it seemed only fitting to say goodbye to it with a small blurb from the love on tour series , the story of harry styles and y/n belmonte. thank you for all the love you always give me and i hope this blurb is enough to put a smile on your face. i love you, friends 💜

You adjusted the camera as you had it leaning against the bathroom mirror. You had finished your skincare and knew tomorrow was a big night for Harry and the entire Love on tour crew. There was a lot up in the air for your career and what was next, but in the next twelve hours, all you could think about was your boyfriend. He would be saying goodbye to a tour he poured his heart into, but most importantly, he was stepping away from what he loved to take a well deserved break. Harry couldn’t stay away long; he’d be back. They all knew it was only a matter of when.

Harry was in bed; he had fallen asleep as you played with his hair and told him about your day. The pasta you made from scratch at the cooking lesson you found in a small neighborhood. It wasn’t advertised, but the chef took a liking to you when you asked him more about his favorite dishes. It seemed that was enough to grant you a special spot in Mr. Caruso’s kitchen. He tried to play off his nerves, but you knew him well enough that this final show would be one he wanted to remember forever.

Once you knew your phone wouldn’t fall, you pulled up Instagram and started a live. It’s been a while since you did one. Usually, you do an origami piece with your fans to catch up with them. Tonight would be a little different. You hadn’t been on for a minute, and the number was increasing by the second.

Twenty.

Five hundred.

Three thousand in under two minutes.

“Hi, everyone,” you greeted cheerfully. “Sorry, I haven’t done one of these in a while. Life has been busy.”

The comments began to flood with “hellos” and “I love you,” but also a lot of mentions of Barbie, the film you finished promoting and starred in. You moved past those comments and instead focused on one asking where you were.

“I’m in my bathroom. I finished my skincare for the night and thought we could chat briefly.” You giggled as you saw Lloyd joining in. The number was past 35k, and although you thought it was ridiculous at this hour in Italy, the rest of the world was running at different times. “Lloyd!!! Buddy!!! Go to sleep!” You tease.

You first.

Shaking your head, you try to see if he comments again, but the comments are coming in at lightning speed.

Cariñoooooooo

“Sarai, cómo va tu día?” How is your day? You ask your best friend.

Boring. Send me a flight to Italy.

You frown at the screen. “Be quiet. I asked if you wanted to come. You said you were busy.”

A cousin’s wedding. Remember.

“Right. You’re officiating for them. I’ll see you in a few weeks,” you assure them knowing Naomi and Sarai will be staying with you for a week–two if you manage to convince them.

Where’s Harry?

Are you in Italy?

One last show!!!!

I loveeeee you!!!!!!

Final outfit reveal

Show harry

I love the new movie

A simple night. Though lots of questions if you would be in Italy for the final show as no one has seen you for a few weeks and where Harry was. You decided to do the live to connect with the fans, but you also wanted to go to bed and join Harry because even a room away, you missed him. You wanted to talk with the fans to share you feel the same sadness that tour is ending because Love on Tour gave you Harry, and that’s something you’d never forget. The same feeling they all feel staring at Harry while being in the crowd is one that you feel too. You can’t describe it, but you all know it well.

You think back to that night in St. Paul when you locked eyes with Harry and knew life would never be the same again. You can honestly say you didn’t expect to fall in love with him and go on this crazy journey two years later, but there is nothing you’d change in your life because it led you straight to him.

“It might seem odd, I’m here talking with you late into the night.” You laugh at people calling out your time zone. “Well, it’s late for me. Maybe even weirder to do it without my overalls and stack of origami paper,” you take a deep breath before continuing. “I know a lot of you know about my relationship. How private we keep it because not everything is meant to be shared online. I like things to be mine, but Harry has never been mine alone. A piece of his heart belongs to each of you, and it’s not something I will ever forget. I am fortunate to love him and be loved by him. I don’t ever take it for granted.” You sniffle and turn away from the camera to compose yourself, but you know it won’t work. When you look back, the comments are filled with love, and it keeps you going. “Love on tour allowed Harry and I to reconnect and truthfully fall in love. I won’t say more because it’s something special to us, but Love on Tour ending is bittersweet. It’s a tour full of love where many of you met friends, best friends, and lovers. You know what it means to love someone because of an event and because of the distance. The love will only grow stronger, and that I can promise.”

You grin at Pauli’s comment saying how much they love you. You found the love of your life, but you also met new friends and built a bigger family.

“Whether you’re a fan of mine or only following me to get an update on Harry, I want to thank you for your kindness, not to me but towards him. If there is anyone who deserves all the love in the world, it is him. Most of you wonder why I’m saying this here and not to Harry, but he knows. I can promise you he does. Think he might be fed up with all the love and support I shower him with, but I’m doing it because I want to look back at this, who knows, maybe five, ten, twenty years from now, and be glad I shared this with you all. If anything, it’s something Harry can look back at when we have to be apart for longer than a day. Harry, sé que no estás viendo esto, pero eres el amor de mi vida. Un último baile mañana y estaremos de camino a casa. Que sigas cumpliendo todos tus sueños, mi estrella.”

You thank everyone for watching and signing off, turning off your phone, knowing the buzzing will start immediately. You know it will be shared all over the internet, and articles will be written by the time you wake up in a few hours. Usually, it’s something you’re careful about, but tonight you don’t mind. You’re proud of Harry, and you’re allowed to show it whenever you wish. You turn your phone off, knowing Harry loves his morning ringtone better than yours.

Turning the lights off, you know as soon as you’re wrapped in Harry’s arms, you're headed straight to dreamland. Crawling into bed is easy; moving the covers away from Harry proves to be a struggle every night. You shush him quietly to not wake him, and it seems to work until he shuffles over and drags you to lay flat on your back while he gets comfortable on your chest. He would forever be your little spoon.

“I love you, baby,” he mutters into the quiet of the night.

It makes your heart race even after two years together. You kiss the top of his head and repeat your favorite three words to him.

The final show has been nothing short of magical. Harry would spend the entire night on stage if he could, but you all know the show is close to ending. Harry, from the morning, had been cheerful from waking you up with a morning orgasm that led to making love, and once he let you get clothes on a walk along the water. You know he had seen your little speech but made no move to bring it up. It wasn’t necessary because you constantly told him how proud you were, and it was evident in how you proudly showed Harry off all day to a crew that already knew and loved him. You don’t know if someone texted it to him or if he happened to see it on Instagram, but he walked all day with an extra pep in his step. It could have also been the sex. Not a hint of sadness could be detected, and it eased your worries because it meant he was ready for a well deserved break.

You spent the show with Anne and Gemma, dancing your heart out. You knew Glenne and Jeff would pull you in for a final mosh pit as Harry danced his heart out to “Kiwi.” Harry had thanked the fans endlessly throughout the entire night. His speeches always bring tears to your eyes. He thanked the band and the crew. He thanked his family for the support they offered the past thirteen years. You didn’t expect a speech dedicated to you, so it caught you off guard when he mentioned you. All your shared family and friends cheered so loud, making it easy for Harry to spot you and even easier for the camera’s to find you and show you on the screens.

“I don’t know if some of you saw, but my girlfriend gave a lovely speech last night on a live,” Harry smiles as the crowd cheers for you. “She poured her heart out to you while I was sleeping.” He wags his finger playfully. “Like she doesn’t know I love my ego to be fed. Her love is something I feel even when she’s not around, but I am thankful she’s here tonight. She’s here, and she’s been dancing and singing all night. It's my favorite thing in the world seeing her happy.” Harry can see Glenne nudging her playfully, but your eyes never leave his. “I love being on stage and performing for you all. It’s everything I dreamed of, and I can’t wait to return soon to do it again.” Harry gives you a dimpled smile, and you know the look in his eye; even from a distance, you know he wishes he could kiss you. “No one tells you how much you miss out on. Family celebrations, nieces' first steps, and even graduations. The biggest to the littlest things matter. Bel has reminded me that even when I’m not there, I can send a reminder that I’m thinking of my family and friends. That everyone understands I’m doing what I love. I love being here with you all, but I also love being home.” Harry places a hand over his heart. “Bel has made me a better son, friend, and partner. Now I know this is sappy, and maybe you’re over this, and she’s going to tell me after this wasn’t necessary, but I do want it to be known that I’m happy. I have never been happier. And while I will be going away for some time, I want you to know I’m in good hands until I return and am yours again.”

The cheers are a mix of sobs and relief, knowing he will be back even with no set date. You can’t seem to stop crying. All the comforting Anne is doing is working, but it’s as if Harry broke you open by pouring his heart out for you on stage.

“He’s a bit of a romantic, my little one,” Anne teases as she squeezes you tighter.

“You’re telling me. I’m no match.”

Anne laughs, “you flew out the entire family and act like that’s not the greatest gesture.”

It’s true. You planned with Anne to make sure everyone could make it out by planning accommodations and rides for the final show to go smoothly for them. Harry deserved a large celebration, and it was important to have his family here. Naomi wanted to be here because if it weren’t for your best friend, you wouldn’t have found Harry in 2021 though Harry liked to think your paths would cross either way. Naomi’s parents, Ruby and Phil, made the journey for Harry. They happily welcomed him into the family. Viola flew in for the celebration as had Violet, your goddaughter with her father Alex.. Your family had become his, and they were here to celebrate two incredible years of a tour filled with love and joy. He deserved to have his family here after missing them so much. There was a wonderful celebration to come after the show ended.

“Guess we compliment each other well like that,” you told Anne. Small moments that reminded you how much a perfect fit you are for each other.

Harry clears his throat, “now, I’m sure Bel is flustered and wants me to stop, so I will. Thank you for being here. Thank you for changing my life. I love you.” He points at you, and you blow him a kiss he pretends to catch and puts it over his heart for safekeeping. “I love you, and I’ll miss you.”

You don’t know what the future holds for your relationship. All you know is that your love will guide you through it all. Whether you get married, have kids, or simply exist to love each other, everything will work out the way it needs to because your love was written in the stars.

thank you for reading! love on tour has been so magical and special for us all. i love you all and hope you go back and read this series if you’re ever missing love on tour. te quiero mucho 🤍

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itsajollyjester · 4 months

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The amount of comfort Finnick and Annie must have had to bring each other over the years makes me weepy

#i love them so much #this blog could become about them if im not careful #I'm making a whole fic in my head rn set from her victory tour to the 71st games #the hunger games #digital art #thg series #artists on tumblr #clip studio paint #catching fire #mockingjay #fanart #digital artist #hunger games fanart #odesta #odesta fanart #finnick odair #annie cresta #jolly art

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katsmtmsdoodles · 8 months

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D...Day 3 of drawing Matt's teen facts TvT this got out of hand

S2E3: Link's favorite class was P.E. aka Personal Entertainment which he did whenever Grant had to do taxes, run errands...or whatever else it was that dads did!

#i. this series was supposed to be like. a drawing for each fact 😭😭#I COULDN'T HELP IT #it was good practice tho lol #i love grant teaching link its so cute #look IK HES A MASS MURDERER BUT REMEMBER LINKS NAT 20 FOR HOW MUCH HE LOVES HIS DAD #i will never shut up about it #anyway #Marco gets random calls from Link when he's having PE #marco just stops in the middle of giving a house tour to a client and holds up a dad finger while he's on the phone with him #my art #dndads #dndads art #dndads s2 #dndads fanart #lincoln li wilson #grant wilson #marco li #dungeons and daddies #dungeons and daddies art #dungeons and daddies s2 #nick close #hes sort of there lol #how tf do people tag for nick #nick foster #wtf??#nicholas freeman next??? nicky swift???#idk lmao #li wilson family #ignore the last pose i was losing steam 😭😭😭#and the background pls for the love of dood 😭😭

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eveningepiphany · 7 months

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welcome to the final show | H.S, part 4

my masterlist!

summary: suddenly it��s not just you and harry anymore, and not only do the general media want an explanation, but so do your friends and family. however, the two of you are only just figuring things out yourselves.

warnings: paparazzi, anxiety surrounding leaked images, fluff, comforting, confessions, make out session, sexual content!

a/n: no because i am so thrilled for you all to read this. these two are so much fun to write about. I hope you enjoy <3

(I was on the fence about including smut, but I decided i wanted to! if that’s not something you want to read, a little warning will come up when it’s about to begin. plot wise you won’t miss anything if you choose not to read it!)

———

There’s a certain type of love that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

And it’s an all consuming kind. One that when you think about it you feel it to the bone.

And oh, had you done a lot of thinking. Overthinking was pretty much all you’ve been doing the past two weeks.

You obviously are attracted to Harry. Physically, emotionally… just in every sense of the word. That’s nothing new for you. And even throughout the points of denial since forming a personal relationship with him. It’s the truth.

You’ve probably gaslit yourself out of it more times then you could count. However picture evidence of you holding hands with him in the homely streets of Italy is kind of a slap to the face.

And despite how cute you think the photos may be, you are still inexplicably panicked about them.

It’s the morning after the photos got posted. And you are genuinely still in shock. You struggled to fall asleep last night after the images first came out— your brain in complete overdrive for god knows how long until you fell asleep.

And this morning you’re ignoring the influx of messages and calls you’re getting from family, friends, and people you’ve met through love on tour.

Several texts from your own sister coming through half an hour ago. All of them including the word ‘fuck’. Shes definitely mad you didn’t tell her this had happened.

Either way, you’re left pacing the length of your hotel room. Heart still near racing in your chest as you try to figure out what to do, and how to handle something like this.

You held hands with him, you remind yourself. You didn’t get caught making out with him… the act for you came across as still something bordering platonic— even though you wished it were anything but that. This could eventually blow over.

You sigh out, leaning against the wall of your hotel, this was considerably more simple when the rest of the population had no idea it was happening.

Now they do, and they have a lot of questions. Plus, it makes it significantly harder when it’s about things you don’t even have answers to.

Harry hadn’t messaged you since everything had happened. If he even knows is beyond you.

But it felt wrong talking to anyone about it without talking to him first.

You felt a sense of guilt. Because this easily will stir up drama for him. Stuff like this spreads so fast, and you’ve seen it happen 100 times. But now you’re no longer in the back seat just watching it unfold. There will be articles, posts, even snippets in the newspapers about it. And whether or not it’s something he’s accustomed to, you still feel at fault. Like you could’ve been more careful, more considerate.

You move to sit on the edge of your unmade bed, staring at your phone that you’ve left on the bench top. How do you even approach it? What do you say to him?

You quickly decide you don’t really want to, at the moment. There is too much going through your head, and you’re still a bit freaked out about it all.

So another anxiety shower is. Which for right now, is your best and favourite option.

Standing up, you head to the bathroom, leaving your phone out in the room, allowing it to continue buzzing while you decide it’s time for some hardcore self-care to calm yourself down.

On the other side of things, Harry is also freaking out. He woke up to texts from a couple people, asking about a headline?

And for people he knows personally to be reaching out about trashy posts on the media, it’s almost always a bad sign.

One being from James, who has been off ‘The Late Late Show’ too long for him to withhold himself from making bad jokes when they present themselves.

Are they even allowed to put that many exclamation marks in the title? Overkill if you ask me. 😪😪

But when he reads the link and sees the image of himself with you, his anxiety immediately shifts from being personal.

[ 1 attachment link] : Styles Has Found His Next Musical Muse, But She’s Actually a ‘Hardcore Fangirl!!!’”

He’s almost positive you will have seen the leaked images. There is no way you would have missed this unless you were still sleeping.

Guilt nearly slaps him in the face. You do not deserve this. He already knows that you’re probably being slammed on Twitter and in comments of these pathetic articles.

And that is never nice. He hates it enough when it’s himself, and that’s after a decade of learning how to deal with it.

His concern for you leads to a text, one he doesn’t want to make, but does anyway. Purely for the fact he needs to know you’re alright.

Because the worst thing that could happen is you having some kind of anxiety attack after reading something online, and not having anyone there to be with you to talk you down. Regardless of how confident you can appear to him, he’s not taking the chance.

Hi love, can you please let me know you’re alright?

He sends it through, and then he typed out another one after it’s been about five long minutes without a reply.

I am very possibly overreacting right now, but do you need me to come over?

Another ten minutes go by,

I’ll be over in about 15. x

He is aware this may be over the top. You could be asleep. You could be just processing what’s happened— since he still remembers the first time things like this happened to him. And it’s a really weird experience.

But he is undeniably protective of you. That is one thing he can’t lie about.

And even more-so, he’s terrified this will scare you off. Because if it’s too much for you, he has no clue how he’d deal with it. Since it’s way too far out of his hands now.

Even though he knew well that this was a easily plausible situation. And it’s almost surprising how long they’ve gone without it happening earlier.

In his own time, he’s been overthinking plenty too. Wondering if it’s normal to want to lay your entire life down for someone two weeks after meeting them.

Maybe if he were 16… but pushing 30… it might be a bit harder to justify.

But somehow, despite knowing how stupid he probably seems, he leaves his bedroom after throwing on some shorts and a tshirt. Going out and grabbing the keys for his car from the kitchen.

Gemma is out there cooking toast, and she turns around to see him near running out the door.

“Harry!” She says, and when he stops to give her a quick greeting she interrupts him.

“Don’t worry so much.” She sighs.

Immediately confused, he frowns, frozen in place, “what…?”

“I’m assuming that this Y/N you’ve been on about really likes you too, okay? There’s no way she doesn’t. So just treat it like any other relationship or friendship you have. No matter the circumstances you met under. If you like her, you like her. Don’t let shit from the media get to either of you.”

Her advice comes just when he needs it, as it always does. And even though he acts like she doesn’t, she knows almost everything there is to know.

A small nod, “Thank you Gem…”

She gives him a warm smile, one that’s always encouraged him.

———

You hear the knock on the door while you’re standing in the bathroom, finishing applying a face mask. Stood clad in your shorts and black boob tube.

And after finally calming down a bit, it gives you another wave of panic. Since after waiting a few moments, the rapping on the door continues. You were hoping they would just go away, whoever it was.

You quietly leave your bathroom, going down the short hallway to look through the peephole in the door.

You don’t even get your eye up to it before you hear the all too familiar voice on the other side.

“Y/N, it’s Harry…” He was a bit muffled, but you didn’t even think as you start unlatching the locks on the door.

The look of relief on his face when you finally peek out is almost palpable.

“Hi…” you say quietly, pulling the door open further, letting him come in quickly.

He has two cups in his hands, and once he’s inside your room, he is fast to place them on the nearest free space.

“What are you—“ you don’t get through the sentence before he breaches the distance between you, tugging you into a hug, uncaring of the face mask residue getting on his shirt.

He squeezes you, “‘M so glad y’alright.”

You take a deep breath. So, he knows.

You feel immediately bad for not letting him know earlier, before he felt the need to come over.

“Did you call me? I’m so sorry, i was in the—”

“I texted you couple times— don’t be sorry. I don’t want it to seem weird I came rushing over… i was jus’ worried about you.”

You slowly draw back, “I was going to text you, I just didn’t want to… i didn’t know how to go about it, i guess?”

He pulls away, “I am so fuckin’ sorry this happened.”

“Why are you apologising? I should be…”

“Why should you apologise? You of all people do not deserve to be dissected by people in the media. Ive dragged you into something you didn’t deserve to be dragged into.” He says, sounding exasperated.

“You aren’t at fault for any of this, H. I feel like I’ve stirred up unnecessary drama up for you…” To this he immediately shakes his head.

“You haven’t. I was just worried about how you’d perceive it all… and fuck— i didn’t want it to scare you off.”

You both seem to realise that you were freaking out over each other. Starting to laugh together, realising how stupid you both probably sound.

“Okay… we sound really silly.” You sigh, moving to grab the cup he’d placed down prior to your very quick debrief.

“But seriously, Harry,” you lead him over to sit down on the edge of your bed with you, “I am still sorry. I feel like I’ve caused unnecessary… assumptions.”

He frowns a little, “assumptions?”

“About us. You know…” you shrug, eyes avoiding him, doing a terrible job at acting nonchalant.

“That we’re together? That what you’re so shy about, hm?” He teases, and you physically cannot handle the way he says it.

“I— well— Yes, sure that’s what I was going for.”

You gently scratch at the dried edges of your clay face mask, and he watches quietly, wishing he could see the blush that’s risen on your cheeks underneath it.

“Why were you showering so early— It’s like midday, I thought you said you showered in the evening?” He asks, out of the blue, causing you to frown.

Your answer comes out unsurely, “I have anxiety showers sometimes. It calms me down.”

He cocks his eyebrow, “Is that why you were literally dripping wet when i came over the other day?”

He pins you with his gaze, and you don’t reply for a few seconds. You were hoping he broke the silence himself, but it was clear he was waiting for a response.

You blurt out, “You make me nervous!”

To this he laughs, “I make you nervous?”

“Not… all the time.” You amend, “Just sometimes.”

You remove yourself before he can ask more questions, and you go to wash off the face mask in the bathroom, while he’s still stifling his laughter.

You emerge after washing it off with cold water, and his eyes follow your every step as you go to sit back down.

“Yknow, Y/N, if I didn’t know any better I’d—“

He’s cut off by a bang on the front door.

You were only scared for a second, until you heard a shrill feminine shout from outside it. One you know to be your best friends classic angry voice.

You were relieved for only about another second before you realised, she will probably break that door down if you don’t let her in.

Oh god.

“Y/N Y/L/N. LET. ME. IN!” You can picture her angry little face. And you’re almost a bit terrified of her.

But you have to hide Harry. Like you have to actually hide him.

“Harry— you— fuck, get up—” You whisper, trying to stay as quiet as possible, grabbing his wrist.

“What is happening?” He sounds awfully confused as you manhandle him around the hotel room, trying to find an adequate place to hide a 6 foot tall man from your fired up best friend.

“She may kill you— she loves you— but she’s very mad at me right now, because I didn’t tell her about,” you pause as you try to label again whatever the two of you were, “us… this… whatever you want to deem it.”

You realise the cupboard is about the only reasonable place, unless you make him climb down the balcony.

“Are you—“

“Y/N! i already KNOW you’re in there!” She calls from the door again.

You tug the door of it open, “Get in!”

You half push him inside it, “I’m so sorry, but just, just sh okay??”

He nods hastily, and you quite literally shut him in there.

“I’m coming!” You shove the takeaway cups into a kitchen cupboard and rush to the door.

Letting her in, she practically storms past you. And you pray to god you can get rid of her in a short period of time.

“I’m sorry!” You say to her, grabbing her hands.

“How could you not tell me something like that?!” She barks, shaking your arms like an angry child.

You do feel bad, because you would also be pissed if it were the other way around.

You try to explain, clutching her warm palms tighter, “To respect his privacy! I wanted to, so, so badly but I just… I didn’t want it getting out.”

She groans, pulling you in for a tight, yet still frustrated hug.

“But you know I wouldn’t have told anyone!”

“I do, i know. I’m sorry.” You embrace her, “but every time we were together there were other people… and I just hadn’t figured out how, let alone talked to him about it.”

She calms down a tiny bit, and sometimes the best way to describe her is like a miniature tornado. Her anger is very quick to bubble over and turn her into this fired up, yelling ball of energy. Yet it dissipates shortly after she lets it all out.

“Okay, well I get that, of course. But… wait are you two actually— have you slept with him?” You pull back from the hug and give her a shocked stare. Her ask stuns you for a moment.

You’re hyperaware that he is listening to this conversation.

What is he thinking right now— you can’t help but wonder. And you have to physically force yourself to push the thoughts that come with such a question aside.

“I— why would you ask me that!” You hiss at her, sounding guilty, even though you’re just throughly embarrassed.

“Because he's Harry Styles!” She exclaims, “who happens to be a very gorgeous man, and I would not be surprised if you wanted— I don't know— in his pants?”

“We are just friends!” You drag your hand down your face. Internally pleading that she stops saying embarrassing shit.

“Whatever you little liar. Acting like as if you haven't said on multiple occasions just how bad you wan—“

“OKAY!” You interrupt, trying to keep the frantic tone out of your voice, “I get it. I really do, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But look, I have so many people I have to call and— i think my whole family also want me dead— so can we maybe get a coffee tomorrow? Talk it over, and you can ask all the questions you want.”

At your proposal, she seems to realise you mean it. And despite the confused look on her face at the fact you’re kicking her out to call what is basically her own adopted family, it seems she understands.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna seem pushy. I was… just also in shock. Tomorrow at 10?” She smiles.

You start both walking over to the door, “that’s perfect.”

Tugging her into another hug, she huffs out an ‘I love you.’

You laugh and give her a chaste peck on the side of her head, “I love you too. I promise I wanted to tell you on my end. I just didn’t want to fuck anything up…”

She nods, pulling back, “I know. And if you need anything, or anyone before I see you tomorrow, don’t forget I’m only a few floors up.”

“I won’t.” You open the door for her, and bid a final goodbye. And once it’s shut, you realise how badly you want the ground beneath your feet to literally swallow you whole.

Despite the embarrassment, you quickly rush over to let Harry out of the cupboard you’d shoved him in.

And as he steps out, adorning a smirk and clearly stifling a laugh, you apologise profusely.

“God— I am so incredibly sorry.”

A proper abashed grin spreads across his face, one that flashes his dimples. Reminding you of the sign you took to the last show, telling him how pretty you thought his smile was. You still think the same.

“Kind of exciting hiding in a cupboard. I never even did it as a teenager.” He chuckles, brushing a few stray curls from his eyes.

“Do I look a little more youthful? As gorgeous as ever?” He teases.

“I am so sorry you had to hear all of that, she has a… she lacks a filter.” You excuse, cheeks flaming as you try to dig yourself out of the hole your best friend has unwittingly buried you in.

“That's okay love, but I am a little curious…”

You frown at his careful words.

He takes a step closer as he continues, “what so badly did you want to do to me that you told all your friends about?”

At this, you completely turn your face away from his green-eyed stare. Because you cannot trust yourself.

He doesn’t realise the dangerous game he’s playing with you right now. Especially while he’s standing in-front of you like this. Tattooed arms out, beautiful face and jawline on display.

“Y/N, darling. I asked a question.” His voice has turned to honey. He’s talking you in a way he never has before. With a tone that is almost demanding an answer, laced with a undertone of seduction.

“Stop it.” You hiss, flicking his solid chest with your hand.

He steps forward, and you step back in response. He backs you up all the way to the edge of your bed.

“Stop being a flirt.” You scoff, finally holding eye contact for more than a second.

His pupils have blown out a little, and the stare he’s giving you is something you want burned into the underside of your eyelids.

“Why? Is it working.” He chuckles, demeanour softening a tiny bit as his hand slides down your arm.

You don’t reply.

“Please tell me, Y/N. I want to know. Y’know I’m nosey.”

“Resorted to begging, I see.” You snort, heart still hammering behind your rib cage.

“If it works, I can do plenty of it.” He playfully remarks.

You try to not reply again, but you’re met with a silence. Somehow he knows you’re going to fill it with a fumbled half-confession.

“I don’t even really remember. I was probably tipsy on some wine. Said some stuff to… the girls. After a show.”

“After a show?” He smirks, “Which one?”

“Barcelona. And maybe back at… another. One or two others.”

“But that’s all I’m saying!” You interject, hoping he takes that as enough of an answer.

He laughs at your attempted defiance.

“Anyways, what even— what are you getting at here?” You ask, because truly, his flirting is heavily confusing you. In every way possible.

“Remember when you told me I had a the prettiest smile?” He lightly grazes your hip with his warm hand.

“I— yes. That was like, 2 weeks ago. What’s your point?” You are biting at your bottom lip.

“Don’t get feisty.” He coos, “Everytime I smile around you, I think of that. And then, I wonder what other things you think about me. What other parts you see of me and consider as pretty.”

“And, can you blame a man for wanting to know what dirty things you’ve said about him to y’friends?”

Jesus Christ. A part of you melts at his words. He is watching you like a hawk, gauging your every little reaction. But you’re clinging to any part of you that’s trying to keep this from heading in that direction. Even though you know it’s not because you don’t want to.

“We really shouldn’t… H.” You state, voice almost shaking with an unspoken need. One that you’re trying to keep from bursting through the seams.

“Why not, Y/N?” He asks, making it sound like a challenge. Causing him to be met with a quick jump in your voice.

You are pulling at every part of your strength right now to justify why this is a terrible idea.

“Because, Harry. I am a fucking fangirl for you. Not in a casual way either, like bordering a little bit insane! It’s horrifying, and very embarrassing! And this is a horrible idea, because I don’t think you understand the kind of—“ You don’t get to finish whatever you were about to say, because he kisses you. With his all.

It feels like he pours every once of his being into it. The way his smooth lips press into your own, fuelled by a heat that is felt in the very pit of your stomach. Your knees almost buckle at the sensation.

You grab his shoulder to stabilise yourself. And your lungs are already drawn of all their air.

In actuality, it mustn’t have lasted very long— maybe a couple seconds— before he pushes the back of your knees against the bed, forcing you to sit down.

He draws in a breath after you seperate, “I don’t care if you have photos of me on your fucking bedroom walls, baby.”

“Could not care less, look at you.” He leans down now, kissing over your lips again in separate, doting pecks, “y’so gorgeous, and genuine. I love that you love what I do.”

You’re in a bit of shock, looking up at him with widened eyes. Because obviously you’ve imagined kissing him before. Probably a thousand times. And that dream has somehow sprung to fruition.

How exactly? you’re still unsure.

“I— Harry.” You say, with no real purpose, clutching onto his broad shoulders.

The way you whine out his name drives him almost insane, and he drops down onto his knees between your spread legs. Giving him easier access to kiss your mouth.

His hands snake around your waist, and he lets his lips slot back over yours.

You loose yourself in the act, your own fingers skating up his back and into the hair at the nape of his neck.

It’s so fucking soft. And you use it to press his face closer to yours. He’s surprised when you’re the one to part your lips and dart your tongue out first.

Skating along his pink bottom lip as an invitation.

He accepts it happily, clutching at your waist while he lets his tongue dip into the heat of your mouth. You can’t help but groan at the sensation, and feel the warmth start to gather between your thighs.

He was kissing you like a starved man. And slowly everything you knew started slipping from the forefront of you mind. All you could feel and focus on was him.

How his muscly frame filled up your senses—and the area between your knees— paired with the glide of his tongue over your teeth.

—((sexual content from here and onwards))

His hands tracing over several parts of your body, even going to pull you closer with his hands cupping your bottom. Squeezing at the swell of your ass playfully.

You bite your teeth down onto his lip and drag it backwards, eliciting a moan from the back of his throat.

Your hips push forward, brushing the front of your shorts on his torso, causing his jaw to go lax.

The two of you seperate for air, panting, and his eyes veer south, looking at where you’re pressed against him.

“Fuckin’ Christ. Look at you, needy little thing.”

You bury your head into his neck, kissing along his sharp jawline. Unable to control your slowly circling hips.

“So, y’willing to share what it is you wanted to do to me yet? Given that you’re practically grinding on m’chest.”

You hum a maybe, and he lets out a deep laugh.

“After Barcelona,” You start, and he works to coax the answer out of you with his hands and lips.

“Mmhm…” he acknowledges, mouthing against your clavicle.

“You had looked so good that night… and I got a little tipsy after the show, back at our BNB.”

“You were in those low rise black pants, and that tiny cropped vest. And my god— i said to all the girls that if you were down, I would happily let you take me. Anyway you wanted.”

“Anyway?” His hoarse voice asks.

“Anyway. Fingers, tongue... cock.”

At the first mention of something genuinely sexual, he almost looses it. Envisioning your spread legs with his head pressed between them.

“But I didn’t just say that because I was tipsy. Or because of the outfit you wore.” You allude quietly.

He can’t wait another second before he’s pressing his already swollen lips back against yours. And hard.

“Want everything off you.” He fists at your boob-tube.

Your body is hotter than a thousand suns, and your need for him is literally tearing through you.

It’s clear this was your tipping point. There was no going back to something casual and platonic. The way your whole body ached to have him was unfathomable.

“Strip me.” You beg, arms lifting so he can tug the thin black material over your head, leaving your breasts in a strapless bra.

He runs his tongue over the exposed skin, hands sliding to the clasp at your back to get it off you.

He moans aloud once he sees you, briefly recalling the times his gaze has dipped to your cleavage in those little sundresses you wore while you were out together, and how he would always be wishing for a moment like this.

He laves his tongue over your nipple, before quickly occupying himself with the button of your shorts.

“These off too?” He confirms, voice gravelly with want.

Hastily, you nod, “Yes, all of it.”

Your sheer eagerness is turning him on even more. You always seemed a tiny bit reserved, so hearing you beg for your clothes to get torn off…

“Ass up,” he asks, watching as you lift it from the bed so he can tug the shorts from your waist and down your legs.

Left in nothing but your underwear, he slides his hand over your front to see how wet you were.

You moan as his fingers brush over your clothed-clit. And you notice now that your arousal has wet through your panties.

“Fucking hell. You realise you’re absolutely drenched, right baby?” He near moans, rubbing a gentle circle over the fabric.

“I—shit— I’m sorry, didn’t think I’d gotten so…” You’re almost a little embarrassed at the amount of arousal between your legs.

He hooks his fingers into the crotch of your underwear, peeling them down your thighs.

Your bare cunt had him almost light headed. You were genuinely glistening, and your slick had already spread to the hood of your clit.

“Darling don’t be sorry. Y’got the prettiest little pussy. Cant believe you’re this wet.”

“What did it for you, huh?” He asks finger running through you, eliciting a groan from both your throats.

In a pleasure-filled haze, you slur out a reply, “You. Just all of you.”

You squirm under his featherlight caress, and take a moment to watch him gaze at you. There is nothing but this look of admiration and desire in his eyes.

“Wanna see you, Harry.” You plea, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

He waits not a second to slip it over his head, and your hands immediately run down his torso. Staying quiet as he lets you indulge.

This is something you have thought of in a million different ways. His chest is built like that of a Greek gods, and his tattoos are an added bonus.

You feel the ridges of his abs under your fingertips, and you trace over the butterfly tattoo as well.

His breath flutters in and out of his nose. But using your hands doesn’t satiate you.

You need him on your tongue.

“Stand up.” You ask, and he doesn’t question you, he just obliges.

You keep him stood between your bare legs, but lean your neck inwards, tongue jutting out to run a solid strip up his stomach.

A rumble comes from him, akin to a growl as you move to of his pecs. Gliding your tongue over the hair-dusted flesh, and enveloping his own nipple into your mouth.

You’d never done this before, since sucking on a guys nipple is less of a commodity… but the reaction it works out of him is perfect.

The way he throws his head back, sharp jaw tilted to the celling, and hair falling from his forehead.

“Oh… oh god.”

You draw back, grabbing his shorts and pushing them down. Kissing both the laurels that sit atop his hips before cupping your hand over his bulge, covered by black Calvin Klein briefs.

“Can I take you out, please?”

“Such nice manners, good girl.”

Good girl. The words float around in your head, and something else inside of you comes undone.

Not sure if it was your self respect… or some other part of your morals. But you could go feral simply over those two words.

You bite down on your lip as you tug the briefs down, watching his cock slip up.

Lord.

You almost salivate. It’s perfect in every way you’d want it to be. A flushed red tip, dotted with beads of pre-cum. And of course it’s big.

For an already perfect man, it’s hard to believe you can strip him completely, and still not find a single flaw.

“Staring pretty hard… you a little intimated?”

“It’s big.” You state, hand coming to wrap around its thick base. “Want it in me.”

He leans down, picking you up by your thighs. You laugh in reaction, him manhandling you into the centre of your still unmade bed.

There was a sense of intimacy that was being shared as he pulled you forward, so you were straddling his hips.

Both of you leaned forward to lock lips, kissing feverishly as you touched over every inch of skin you could. Eventually, both of your hands falling between the others legs.

You stroked over him, and he careful slid his middle finger into you.

He worked you until you were near dripping down his hand, and were scraping your nails along his shoulders.

“Harry— need you…” you beg.

“Want me to take you right now?” He asks, cock throbbing in your hand.

“Yes. I can handle it. Promise. I’m clean and on birth control if you wanna go bare.”

“Only if you’re sure. I trust you.”

“I am… just want to feel you.” You plead.

“Need you to tell me how y’want it first, pretty.” He coos, curling his finger inside you.

You moan in response, and he slides it out shortly after so he regains your attention.

“I—“ you stutter, now feeling empty, “anyway you want, I said that earlier.”

“No, baby, how do you like it?” He asks again, smiling against your skin.

“Anything, hard or gentle, I’ll come either way. Look at you— as if I wouldn’t.”

He pulls your core to his, rubbing the tip against your slick hole, “Then tell me as we go how you’re doing, and what you want or need okay. Want you to feel really good, m’kay?”

You nod, and he starts to sink into you, already pulling a moan from your lips at the stretch.

He on the other hand struggles to hold himself together as your warm walls part for him.

“Fuck, fuck… you’re so tight, Y/N.” He groans, pulling you down nearly all the way— stopping before he reaches the base of his cock, taking a moment to adjust so he doesn’t come before he’s all the way in.

“Mm-“ you whine out, nails digging into the warm muscle on his back, “Harry…”

Once he’s composed himself, he lets your hips sink the down to the base of him. You both take a moment to feel it. Panting, because the heat and the connection you’re both sharing is only describable as euphoric.

“Y’okay?” He sighs out, clutching your waist with firm hands.

“Yes… so fuckin’ full.” You moan out, hole fluttering around his length.

He carefully draws his hips back, pulling out a little only to push it back in.

Just that small movement has you reeling. And you’re quick to realise that this is probably going to be the best sex you’ve ever fucking had.

“Look at that, your cunt swallowing me up. So fuckin’ hot.” He whispers, slowly starting to pick up the pace.

His fingers move to play with your clit, and he notices the reaction that courses through your body the second he rolls it between his fingers.

You buck your hips against him, and he brings his lips down to suck on the side of your breast.

“Mark me.” You encourage, wanting him to leave you with bruises from his mouth.

“Dirty thing,” he moans, fucking up into you, “so fucking wet too. All f’me isn’t it?”

The dirty talk causes you to clench around him, and he picks up on it.

“Jesus, you really are? Like when I say dirty stuff too, clearly.” He grunts.

“Yes, fuck! Please touch me.” You ask, needing to feel more of him, to the point it consumes your senses.

He touches you almost everywhere, with his hands, lips, tongue. All over your body until you genuinely can’t think of anything else.

It leaves your body shaking, and he can tell you’re not going to last much longer going by the clenching of your cunt.

“I’m gonna come if you keep squeezing around me like tha’.” He curses, keeping a fast pace with his hips as you feel the beginning of your high approaching.

It starts to bubble up in the pit of your stomach, “God— you’re so deep.”

“Yea, love? Feel me all the way up here?” He splayed his hand on your lower abdomen and you nod.

“Gonna come soon… please.” Your thighs are going weak from trying to hold your body up, and he notices, flipping you around so he’s on top of you.

The new angle has you biting down on your palm to try and stop yourself from crying out.

“Taking it so well. M’not far off either, baby.” He groans, his thrusts faltering as he bottoms out.

He pushes two fingers past your lips, allowing your tongue to swirl over them before he is removing them. Taking them down to rub over your swollen clit.

The added stimulation is what’s going to tip you over the edge.

“H—fuck—Harry! I’m gonna come!” You moan out, nails scraping down his bicep.

“Good fucking girl,” he prompts, fingers flicking over your clit, “let it all go for me, gush all over my cock.”

His words send you spiralling. And they’re the final push you need before your cunt clamps down around him with a loud moan tearing out of you.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” You’re writhing around him, and he curses at how tight you’re clenching him.

“That’s it, keep fucking going— ride it out on me.” He hisses, hips finally faltering as he feels his cock come inside of you.

Twitching between your warm walls as his stomach muscles contract and ripple with the intensity of his release.

He near buckles on top of you, his body weight pressing against you. And The two of you are panting, still shivering out slight aftershocks of your orgasms.

His forehead rests against yours, and you lean forward to brush a kiss against his parted lips.

Gently, he pulls himself out. A tiny hiss coming from his lips at the sensitivity.

He rolls over, bringing you to lay down on top of him. And you feel the partial heaving of his damp chest below you.

“Thank you…” You mumble out, sounding almost shy.

He picks up on it, “Don’t sound so nervous, darling. Y’were amazing.”

This brings a smile across your lips. It’s safe to assume that maybe things around you are complicated. But actually between the two of you, it’s anything but.

You like him, so much. So you just say it.

“I like you, Harry.”

And he affirms your statement with a kiss to your temple, and says quietly, “I like you too, Y/N. A lot.”

And this feels like an unspoken agreement that maybe the media is only going to get more riled up about the two of you as time goes on, but what you have is something genuinely worth fighting for.

Plus… they already know so, what’s the worse that could really happen now?

———

that was a long one!! hope you all loved it, and thank you so much for the support on this series. and don’t worry, you will definitely still be seeing more of them in the future. 🤍

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18 @laurxn-robinson @kkr102 @superlegend216 @jerseygirlinca @cherrysulewski

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

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butdaddyilovehim-hs · 9 months

Text

The Divorce: Part I

Y/N takes on her first high profile case as an assistant at a law firm. Her first client? Harry Styles.

Word Count: ~ 3k

Warnings: none… yet 😋

Y/N wouldn’t say she was particularly brave. Or outspoken. She didn’t like speaking much at all really, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t good at her job. She just happened to be a bit shy. Sometimes she wondered why it was exactly that she wanted to become a lawyer, a job that required more talking than most others. But here she was, assisting at one of the largest law firms in England. Now she didn’t actually do much legal work; she tended to fetch coffee and organise documents but if she ever dared to speak up, people would quickly realise she was much more intelligent than what she was given credit for.

“Y/N! We have a possible case, a big one. I want you as my right hand woman for this ok? Let’s get you out of your shell a bit eh?” Mr Collins strode up to Y/N’s desk, startling her slightly.

Robert Collins was a joy of a boss and Y/N was grateful for every second she worked with him. He knew she was timid and he didn’t push past her limits. But he was encouraging and sometimes Y/N wished he wouldn’t be as nice to her so that she could prepare herself for the real world outside her little bubble where people were ruthless and unforgiving. Robert also had an extremely pregnant wife at home who was ready to pop at any moment which somewhat accounted for his rather happy in office personality.

“Who’s the client? Do I know them?” She asked, standing and rounding her desk to where Robert stood.

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t. It’s Harry Styles.”

Y/N’s jaw nearly dropped to the ground, but she kept quiet as Robert briefly explained the situation. It wasn’t anything they weren’t used to - high profile divorce, with two people unable to come to a decision on what to split between them.

“We’ll need to draft up a plan this afternoon, we’re meeting him tomorrow. He’s doing interviews himself which is unheard of. He’s looking for the best representation he can find which is understandable - the man has assets. Every law firm in the country wants this case. If we get it, it’ll skyrocket our reputation. Do as much research as you can, I’ll send through a file on everything I have. I need this to be airtight Y/N. He’s one of the most important clients we could ever have and he also has reputation for being a bit of an asshole so we… you need to prepare for that. Don’t screw this up.”

“Of course Mr Collins I’ll get right on it.”

Y/N worked for hours, making a solid plan and editing it until she was finally happy with it. She left the office for the night, long after everyone else, arriving home as the sun started to set. After a quick shower and muesli bar (Y/N knew it wasn’t the most filling of meals but she was tired and frankly could not be bothered) she jumped into bed.

Just as she was closing her eyes, her phone buzzed twice.

Robert Collins: Y/N, Linda is in Labour!

Robert Collins : You’re going to need to take the meeting alone tomorrow. You need to do everything you can to secure this deal. Do whatever it takes. We need this case. We need him. If there’s an emergency call me but otherwise I’ll be at the hospital. Will keep you updated.

Y/N’s heart dropped to her stomach. Take a meeting ALONE? With HARRY STYLES. Oh he had to be fucking kidding. With a groan she flopped back into bed and covered her face with a pillow. This was a nightmare.

“I don’t care who it is, I want the best and I want them now. Do you understand? I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what a sensitive matter this is.”

“Yes of course Mr Styles, right away sir.”

Harry slammed the phone back into it’s receiver, before slumping back into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. If you had told him in his 20s that he would be CEO of the largest company in the world before he turned 30, he would have smirked, tossed back his whiskey and said that sounded about right. Harry was sure in himself and in his abilities. He was brilliant at his job, however, he had learned that being brilliant at his job didn’t come with being a pushover. As a result, he was ruthless, harsh and didn’t have a reputation for being the nicest boss. Everyone was terrified of him and he liked it that way. Harry enjoyed control. He relished it.

But, if you had told Harry in his 20s that he would be getting a divorce at 35, he would have laughed in your face, in slight disbelief before protesting that he and his wife were as happy as ever, content and in love. He would have said all of that before he walked in on her fucking her pilates instructor in their bed.

Sofia Styles had dissolved into cries and pleas as Harry calmly ordered the both of them to get out, before resorting to screaming abuse at him when it seemed her begging was falling on deaf ears. She wailed about how he didn’t make time for her, how all they did was argue and how she had needs that Harry wasn’t taking care of. Which was… true. Harry had grown tired of their rather vanilla sex life over a year ago, but Sofia had never been interested in changing up their routine.

Before he had fallen in love with Sofia, Harry was a dominant. He took pleasure in taking control, having women submit themselves to him and writhe beneath him. It was safe, it was consensual, it was fun. God he didn’t remember the last time he had had fun. That side of him had quieted when Sofia had walked into his life. But that wasn’t the point. None of it mattered now.

“Mr Styles? Is everything alright?” His assistant poked her head through the door, shutting it behind her softly as she took in his frazzled state. Harry had hired Nancy a few years ago and despite being in her early 60s, she was the most competent assistant he’d ever had. She was also there for motherly advice whenever he needed it. Nancy knew how difficult it was for Harry to have his mother living so far away, so she made an effort to make sure he was eating well and sleeping enough.

“I’m fine. It’s just hitting me all at once. I’m tired.”

“It will pass Harry. I know you, you’ll be alright. Mr Horan called to ask how you were… you also have a few meetings this afternoon. The legal department also wanted me to let you know that they’ve found candidates. I think they were… frightened to call you back, so they called me.” Nancy said, a wry smile on her lips.

Harry gave her a weak smile in return, resting his head in his hands.

“Tell Niall I’ll call him later and that I’m ok. Cancel the rest of my meetings for today if you don’t mind and tell legal I want to meet them all as soon as possible. Tomorrow if they’re able.” Harry scanned his email for the list of candidates pausing as he read one of the names.

“I’d like to see the representative from Collins law firm tomorrow too. I’ve heard he’s quite good."

“They’ve already set up a meeting but actually it’s a “her”.” Nancy corrected.

“Huh?” Harry looked up, confusion evident in his features.

“Meet her. The interview is with his assistant, Mr Collins is caught in a family emergency. Y/N Williams, I believe. She’s Robert’s right hand woman and they specialise in this kind of thing, so you’re in good hands.”

Harry raised a brow.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Don’t scare her away Harry. I know how you can be.” She chided and Harry scoffed.

“That’ll be all thank you Nancy.”

With a roll of her eyes, the older woman shuffled out of the office, closing the door behind her.

Harry rubbed his eyes in irritation, resting his head in his palms. It was going to be a long day.

“Your client is WHO?!?”

“Harry Styles, you heard me the first time Lauren, and keep your voice down! I’m not supposed to say anything, it’s all very private and quiet because of who they are. And he isn’t my client yet.” Y/N exclaimed to her best friend.

Lauren had a tendency to get overexcited about things but Y/N had to admit she had butterflies in her stomach about this too. Harry Styles was without a doubt one of the most attractive men she had ever seen and the fact that she was meeting him today had her wrecked with nerves. She was curious as to what had made his marriage fall apart, at least she assumed that’s what she was hired for, given her specialty. Maybe he was bad in bed, but she doubted it. Maybe he cheated on her? Did she cheat on him? Maybe-

“Y/N! I’ve been calling your name for like 5 minutes what could you possibly be daydreaming about? Mr Styles?” Lauren laughed at the stunned look at Y/N’s face as she came back to earth.

“I wasn’t daydreaming about him! I was just thinking… I wonder what he’s like.”

“Well you’re not going to find out if we keep talking, you’re going to be late babe, go!”

So, after a few words of encouragement, Y/N made her way to the meeting, breathing heavily as she pulled into the carpark.

Styles Incorporated was one of the largest buildings in the city. It had 68 floors, high ceilings and windows that were always shining. Y/N made her way inside, slightly taken aback by the atmosphere. There were hundreds of workers but it was so quiet, almost as though they didn’t dare make a sound. Y/N grimaced at the sound of her heels clicking on the tiles, walking towards reception.

“Hello, I’m Y/N Williams, I’m here for an interview with Mr Styles.” Y/N said politely, almost in a whisper due to how quiet the building was.

The woman at the desk peered at her from behind her glasses.

“He’s expecting you. 68th floor. Glass office, you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you. Anything I should know before I go in?” Y/N meant it as a joke, simply because she was nervous, but the woman nodded.

“Don’t speak unless spoken to, don’t ask any personal questions, and address him as Mr Styles at all times.”

Y/N blinked in shock, before nodding and walking quickly to the elevator. Her stomach turned as the elevator rose, and she took deep breaths to calm herself down. The woman at the desk in front of the larger office gave her a warm smile as she arrived, telling her to head on through.

Y/N swallowed at the sight of the man behind the desk, plastering a shaky smile on her face and entering through the door. His eyes remained glued to his laptop as she stood timidly in front of him for a few moments before clearing her throat.

“It’s lovely to meet you Mr Styles I’m-“

“Late.” He remarked, eyes still on the screen.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re late, Miss Williams. You’re also not who I was expecting.” He looked up at her for the first time and Y/N was taken aback slightly by his features. He looked as though he had been chiseled from stone, all hard lines and piercing green eyes and cheekbones that could cut glass.

“I don’t mean to be rude but I believe I’m right on time.” Y/N checked her watch, noting that it was 10am exactly.

“Around here, if you aren’t early, you’re late. I’m a busy man Miss Williams, if I’m not punctual everything falls apart. Do you understand?”

Y/N exhaled softly, observing the rather irritated man in front of her, gathering her thoughts.

“Of course Mr Styles, I apologise. I don’t want to take up too much of your time, I’m sure this is an issue that you’re eager to move quickly through.” Y/N mentally high fived herself as her voice only shook slightly, even if she had basically rehearsed what she was going to say like a script about 10 times on the way over.

“Take a seat Miss Williams. You look like you’re about to run at any minute and unfortunately for you, I have time.”

Y/N swallowed before nodding meekly and taking a seat on the other side of his desk.

“So I thought I would start with why you should hire-“

“Do I frighten you Miss Williams? You look rather frightened.” He cut her off, a small smirk on his face.

Y/N froze. She didn’t know how to respond to that.

“I’m sorry Mr Styles but I don’t think that’s very relevant to what we need to be-“

“I think it’s relevant. I want to know whether I frighten you or whether you just find me so attractive that you can’t possibly look me in the eye. Maybe it’s both. I tend to have that effect.” He stood, leaning slightly over his desk, towering over her.

“Mr Styles that isn’t very appropriate. It also seems like a bit of a personal question and I’d like to keep this professional.“

“It might not be appropriate Miss Williams, but I am curious. You intrigue me. And as for professional well… I’m certainly not one to talk about what happens inside my office.” He smirked again and Y/N genuinely thought she was about to combust. The betrayal that she felt from the wetness between her legs was also overwhelming to the point where she couldn’t take it anymore. What he was offering she was unsure but Y/N had a job and Robert trusted her to do well.

“Ok well let’s talk. How about we start with the reason you and Mrs Styles feel the need for divorce, so I can properly convince you why our firm is what you need.” Y/N could hardly believe she was rejecting whatever was going on and she also couldn’t believe her voice still worked after all of that.

It was like a switch. One minute he was flirty and suggestive and wildly inappropriate and the next he was dropping back into his chair, the smirk disappearing from his face and instead replaced by a flicker of annoyance and then… sadness? He recovered from his emotive slip quickly and his original stony features were back. It’s a shame, Y/N thought. He’s rather beautiful when he smiles.

“She cheated on me.” He said bluntly.

It took everything in Y/N not to react. But it was almost as though he could tell she was trying to control herself.

“You can laugh. I would. CEO Harry Styles. Has the world at his fingertips and can’t love anyone enough for them to stay.” He laughed bitterly and Y/N almost wished she could give him a hug.

“That’s… not what I was thinking.”

“No? You feel sorry for me then? It’s usually one of the two. It’s alright Miss Williams, when you get to where I am in the world you soon realise that everyone leaves sooner or later.” Mr Styles raised his eyebrows, seeming slightly taken aback by his own admittance. Y/N couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming need to reassure him that he would be alright. It seemed behind his arrogance and cocky persona, he was just lonely.

He cleared his throat, his emotionless mask returning as he checked his watch before looking up at the ceiling and rolling his eyes.

“You have… about a minute of my time remaining before I have other things to be doing. I’ve seen five other candidates today and they were all spectacularly mediocre. So, convince me.”

Y/N hushed the little voice inside that wanted to scream about how he had done most of the talking. Instead, she took a deep breath and explained their plan, just as she had rehearsed in the mirror that morning. She said most of it with her eyes cast downward and when she was finished she raised her gaze slowly, noting the small smirk on his face.

“Ok. You’re hired.” Mr Styles stood abruptly, ignoring the look of shock that flittered across Y/N’s face. Hired? Just like that?”

“Oh really? Well thank you Mr Styles, I’m sure Mr Collins will be in touch.” Y/N gathered her things, slightly relieved to be escaping from the confines of his office.

“Hired on one condition. We win and you go out to lunch with me.” It wasn’t a request. More of a statement.

Y/N’s cheeks flamed as she struggled to compose herself.

“Mr Styles I really don’t think that’s appr-“

“I don’t really care what-“

“Would you stop cutting me off?! For goodness sake let me speak!” Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes, stopping short at the look on his face.

“Oh my goodness Mr Styles I am so sorry, I didn’t mean it. Sometimes my mouth starts working before my brain.” Y/N was aware she was rambling but she couldn’t help it. She’d blown the deal, she must have.

His signature smirk reappeared and Y/N’s shoulder’s relaxed slightly.

“Don’t apologise Miss Williams. I was riling you up. I like a woman who knows what she wants. Do we have a deal?”

Y/N hesitated before thinking back to Robert’s text. Do whatever it takes.

“Ok. I’ll… go to lunch with you if we win.”

“Wonderful. When we win you mean. Now I hate to cut this short darling but I really do have places to be. I’m sure I’ll see you soon, tell Robert to give me a call ok?”

With that, he ushered her out the door, closing it behind her. Y/N stood, frozen for a moment before making her way slowly to the elevator.

What was that?

Harry chuckled to himself as he watched her through the glass walls of his office, talking to herself quietly as she waited for the elevator, cheeks flaming. He got a kick out of making her so nervous, it did great things for his ego. He wasn’t lying, she did intrigue him and if he could convince her, she seemed like the perfect distraction to get his mind off things and a distraction was exactly what he needed right now.

Read Part II here

A/N: So this is part one!! What do you guys think so far? It’s certainly going to get exciting in the next chapter! Thank you for reading xo Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

@lukesaprince @intimacywithceline @styleslover-1994

#harry styles #hslot #love on tour #harry styles ceo #harry styles series #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles y/n #harry #harry styles writing

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bottlesofrouge · 4 months

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☆ on one condition ☆ masterlist ☆

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

-ˏˋ i'll do it on one condition," harry drinks from his water glass and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "you can't fall in love with me."

"ah, there's the harry i know," lynn flicks her crinkled straw wrapper at his face, and it lands in the middle of his salad. he frowns and tries to fish it out with his fork, but he decides he's not really that hungry anymore. "something tells me that won't be a problem." ˊˎ-

one.

two.

three.

four.

five.

✰ part six soon ✰

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adorerry · 8 months

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A bouquet a day keeps the sadness away. | H.S

Pairing: boyf!harry styles x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: you have been feeling a bit down recently so harry decides to add a special something into his daily routine in hopes to make you feel better

Warnings: tiny mention of depression at the start, PURE FLUFF! (p.s I literally know nothing about flowers, so hashtag don’t hate the flowers I chose pls xx)

a/n: stay til the end for a surprise ;) if you would like to be added to my tag list please pop me a message in dm's or in my requests/talk to me box :*

With seasonal depression just around the corner, your moods have swooped down a load recently. Instead of going for your daily runs and gym sessions with harry, you stayed in bed and binge watched Netflix all day, crying over the smallest things ever and overall having no motivation to do anything. Other people might think it's pathetic, but Harry had immediately noticed your change of moods and knew he had to do something about it straight away. Even on days when u felt at your very best, Harry still managed to slip the odd compliment and reassuring quote in just to make sure you knew how much you meant to him. That’s when harry got the bright idea of doing something small for you each day of the week just to remind you how much he loves you and how proud he is of you.

Monday.

You woke up, mind groggy, rolling over to feel an empty space where harry usually lays. Rubbing your drowsy eyes, you opened them to see Harry's side of the bed neatly tucked in, pillows perfectly fluffed up, no creases in the sheet. Everything was perfectly in place except for him. Where was he?

Groaning to yourself, you stretch your legs out of the bed and trapse along to the kitchen.

Your eyes rapidly tearing up at the scene in front of you. A huge bouquet of sunflowers with a note peeping out from the top.

“My sweet sweet angel. I'm sorry for not being there this morning when you woke up, but I had to rush to the studio. Duty calls... :( I hope you're feeling a bit better this morning, text me as soon as you finish reading this note. Let me know how you are! I got you these flowers as a reminder of all the happy times we have together. I did my research and apparently sunflowers represent happiness, and I'm hoping they make your happiness shine out. I’ll never fathom how you are mine; you are everything I ever hoped and dreamed of. Keep being your beautiful, pleasing self. Shouldn’t be too long... don't miss me too much. H x”

Tuesday.

Every Tuesday morning harry would go out for meetings with his team, so you weren’t really surprised when you woke up to an empty bed once again. When he arrived back home yesterday, he smothered you in kisses and cuddles while insisting you guys ordered a takeout and had a movie night and that’s exactly what you did.

Pouring your milk, you heard the doorbell ring as you pranced over to the door not expecting any deliveries today. “Delivery for Mrs Styles?” The delivery man questioned. Your face immediately beginning to flush a red tone as you accepted the parcel. Mrs styles.. It has a nice ring to it you think to yourself as you open the box to yet again another bouquet of flowers with a note.

“Hello baby, hope you're having an amazing morning. I also hope you didn’t mind the delivery man calling u Mrs styles... I really need to make that official soon huh. I’ll be home a little later today, please take care of yourself throughout the day. Maybe go for a little walk to clear your head? Mum said she will meet you if you pop her a text, maybe go to the small café you like? My treat ;) Hope you like the roses. They symbolise love, and that’s exactly why I got them. I love you so much you never fail to fill the empty gaps in my heart. See you tonight lovie. H x”

Wednesday.

Yesterday afternoon you spent it with anne having a catchup, both of you agreeing to go out shopping today, and last night cuddled up with harry in bed chatting about life and how the team was treating him. Surprisingly on one of your only mornings waking up next to harry, you were the first to be awake and out the house. Due to his busy schedule, it was another late night at the studio for harry but you didn’t mind as you knew he was doing things he loved.

When you arrived back home you saw yet again another box waiting for you to open it and pick it up. Taking everything inside you let out a slight laugh as you opened the box to a huge bouquet of lavenders. Obviously, it wasn’t a bouquet without the famous note...

“I hope you're not sick of my flower sending yet :( Woke up this morning and you weren’t there, felt a little deflated that I couldn’t smother you in kisses to wake you up but mum text me saying she took you shopping which made me feel way better. It’s so lovely seeing the two people I care for the most bonding and spending time together, and that’s why I've sent you these beautiful lavenders. They symbolise peace and you may be wondering why I have sent you flowers for peace? I want your beautiful body and brain to give you a break from all the stressful thoughts wandering them. I hope today brought you so much peace and I can assure you the future will too... I love you my precious girl. H x”

Thursday.

Surprise surprise, another morning without harry. This morning he left for training day with brad. You really wish you were there to witness harry in training mode but instead you found yourself once again opening another bouquet of flowers.

“Hi lovie, this is a short one today. I'm sorry... This short note is worth it as tomorrow is unfortunately the last flower bouquet day. I know, I know I can hear your sobs from here but don’t worry darling it will all be worth it I just need you to trust me.. Which is why I got you freesia flowerers today. They symbolise trust and I'm needing you to trust me with everything you have. I’ll see you tomorrow, love you millions. H x”

Friday aka The last flower day.

You felt the bed dip as you made a lazy attempt to open your eyes as you felt the immediate kisses harry started planting all over your face.

“G’mornin’ lovie. Y’gonna wake up for me?” he questioned swiping the stray hairs away from your face and tucking them behind your ear.

“Mhm” you replied turning over and slowly dozing back to sleep as you felt harry pick you up taking you somewhere in the house.

It took harry 10 minutes to wake you up, once he was successful you looked at your surroundings to see you were in the living room.

“Got you a coffee anndddd your very last bouquet box” he said placing down both the coffee and box Infront of you

“You really didn’t have to do this for me H.. but I really appreciate it so thank you” you leaned over to give him a soft kiss on the cheek as you turned back around eagerly opening the box to see what’s inside the last one.

You opened the box to the most gorgeous flowers you had ever seen but felt a pang in your heart when you didn’t see a note, harry noticed your frantic looks as he reached over and grabbed a handwritten note.

“I felt like a handwritten one is better for today's note, feels more personal?” he said with a slanted smile placed on his face. You began to read the note as you hear harry rustling around behind you.

“Good morning gorgeous... I felt like a handwritten note was the better option for today. A week today will be our 5-year anniversary. I can’t even begin to thank you for all the astonishing things you have done for me these past 5 years, I most definitely wouldn’t be here without you, you are my muse... So, thank you thank you thank you. I really hope you like my choice of today's flower’s, il explain to you what they symbolise in a second. You have showed me how to love and what true love feels like, and I will continue giving you everything I have until my very last day on earth. These flowers are my personal favourites... They are called calla lilies, and they symbolise marriage. I love you I love you I love you. So, what I'm trying to say is...”

“Y/n..” you turn around nearly giving yourself whiplash, seeing the love of your life on one knee your eyes start welling up as your hands automatically cover your mouth in shock. “Will you marry me?”

You desperately nod your head as your head finds the crook of his neck while your tears find a home in his t-shirt. Secretly harry let out a few tears too but he would never let you know that.

A/N again: Woweee if you made it this far hi! Thank you so much for reading this is my very first thing i've ever posted on this account, I'l do a small post soon introducing myself and what/who I write.

I DO NOT give consent to anyone reposting my writing and claiming it as theirs. I AM more than happy for you guys to reblog, add to reccomendation lists etc (this really helps especially as im a small account!). If you would like to translate any of my posts please message me before hand so we can chat about it!

I love you, stay safe, my messages are ALWAYS open dont be affraid to message me.. M x

#harry styles #harry styles love on tour #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles one shot #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #adorerry

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x-exo-l · 2 years

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"But now I have you all here, the fans and the crew as a family too."

#let me present you my ultimate fav moment of this cast #I. love. them.#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche world tour #mileapo #mile phakphum #apo nattawin #vegaspete #build jakapan #bible sumettikul #jeff satur #barcode tinnasit #thai bl #bl series #biblebuild #tong thanayut #perth nakhun

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deckardsdwelling · 10 months

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[1923 - 1x3 - “The War Has Come Home”]

— WDD

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angelbesideme · 1 year

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i’m so happy and proud of tong. he went from never talking about his personal life and even hiding his career in bls from his own family to saying he’s proud to represent the lgbt community and proudly waving his little gay flag and standing before the whole world to see. i love him i love him i love him to the moon and back. always 💖😭

#i could literally cry rn i’m sick and he goes and does this he’s literally made my day i love him i love him soooooo much #(i’ll try to come back here at some point sorry for being so ia)#(but i couldn’t stay silent over this one)#i love himmmmmm <333333333333 #tong thanayut #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche world tour #kinnporsche cast

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sweetcherryharry · 1 year

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Begin Again — 03

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N had a secret relationship for almost two years, until they broke up. A year later, she shows up at one of his Love On Tour shows.

(masterlist)

“Your names, please.” Was the first thing the three girls —and a disguised Jeff— heard as soon as they crossed the ‘Staff Only’ door, where another two guards who were on the outside had opened the entrance towards them, recognizing Jeff and letting him in with his companions.

Jeff turned to look at Y/N, gesturing her to answer the guard requesting their names, “Y/N Y/L/N,” she replied, taking the lead from her group of friends.

She knew the routine, she had seen it before. When she accompanied Harry to his first Love on Tour leg in 2021, she never had the need to complete this process since she had a special badge that Harry gave her, letting all the guards know she was his guest and she could come in and out of backstage with no problem.

Yet, she had seen from time to time how the process was; when one of Harry’s family or close friends would attend the shows and they’d meet him backstage, she had the opportunity to see how the protocol to let someone in was.

The guard nodded, writing down her information on his clipboard and what she assumed was the date and time, “You’re whose guest?”

Before she could reply with Jeff’s name since he had been the one to retrieve her and bring her backstage —along with her friends—, someone beat her to it. “Harry Styles.”

Y/N faintly heard her friends’ quiet gasps leaving their lips right beside her, as they had registered Jeff saying that she was Harry’s guest. From the corner of her eye, she could see that both Maia and Natalie turned to look at each other with wide eyes, not really comprehending what was going on.

The guard simply scribbled down, and turned to look at her again, “Do you have any identification?”

Y/N quickly took her small bag in her hands and pulled out her wallet, where she had her ID. Without a word, she handed him the plastic card, feeling her palms getting sweaty.

He examined it carefully, before nodding and scribbling down a few more pieces of information; probably her ID number and birthday. After a few seconds, Y/N was handed her ID back and was given now a backstage pass along with it.

“Next, please,” The guard motioned for one of the trio to continue on the security process, and it was Maia who took the step forward. As the guard asked the same questions (except for whose guests they were), Y/N simply remained silent, looking at the long hallway ahead of them.

She couldn't help but think of the many memories with Harry; fooling and joking around in these backstage hallways.

Harry and Y/N couldn't help but feel giddy with excitement as they made their way down the dimly lit hallway backstage of the arena; Madison Square Garden.

It was the first of the four concerts he had in the arena for this tour, and they had been waiting for it for months. Harry was extremely nervous, while Y/N was extremely excited and happy for him.

As they walked, Harry suddenly grabbed Y/N by the hand and spun her around, causing her to stumble into him. "Heeyy!" she laughed, pushing him away playfully.

Harry grinned at her, his green eyes sparkling mischievously. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. You just look absolutely amazing in your tee,"

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, yet a warm flush crept up her cheeks as her smile grew. "You know I had to!" she said, trying to suppress a smile. She had seen a very funny tee on Etsy, and honestly, she couldn’t help but buy it for herself.

It was a black tee that said “Harry Styles’ GF (REAL)”, along with an edited picture of her boyfriend with pink hearts surrounding him.

It had been a surprise for him, and when it had finally arrived at their home and she showed it to him, he couldn’t help but find it amusing.

He said that she needed to wear it to one of his concerts, finding it would be quite funny that the fans had no idea that the tee was actually true. She was his secret girlfriend.

“Please tell me you’ll keep it all night.” Harry laughed, thinking about how amusing it will be to see his actual girlfriend in the crowd wearing that shirt.

Y/N decided to tease him, “All night?” She arched an eyebrow, and shrugged, feigning innocence. “Well, I guess I’ll wear it until tomorrow, no removing it all night, then.”

And as she was expecting, Harry was quick to catch on to what she was implying. She felt his warm hand push her against one of the white walls, quickly putting one of his hands behind her head (to protect it from the hard wall), and the other one on her hip bone, keeping her in place.

“Do you truly want to start this game?” His hand that rested on her hip bone started to trail up, bringing her tee up with it. He looked at her with a playful —yet lustful— look in his green eyes, enjoying himself quite much.

And as she was about to make her next move, a loud voice interrupted them, “Harry! Y/N! Before you continue whatever you think you are doing, let me remind you we have 20 minutes until Harry is on stage!”

They both turned to look at Harry Lambert, who had an annoyed —yet amused— expression on his face. Y/N couldn’t help but feel like a deer in headlights, caught in her little mischief, as her cheeks turned pink.

On the other hand, Harry couldn’t help but laugh, letting his girlfriend free from his hold on her against the wall, and now opting to take her hand in his.

Without another word, the fashion stylist chuckled and shook his head, before turning on his heel and walking towards Harry’s backstage room, letting them know that he'll be waiting.

Harry turned to Y/N, a huge smile on his face. "I love you,"

She couldn’t help but smile widely at him, too, “I love you even more”

A hand on her shoulder brought Y/N back to reality, away from her daydream. She turned to look at both of her friends, who were now ready to continue on, their backstage badges hanging from their necks, just like Y/N had hers.

“Let’s go,” Jeff said, now directing the girls toward the hallway. He fell onto the front of the group, leaving the trio a few meters back from him to give them privacy, while also directing them towards Harry’s backstage room or wherever they were supposed to meet up.

It seemed that Maia and Natalie both took this opportunity to question their friend, extremely confused and uncertain of what the hell was going on. One minute they were enjoying Harry Styles’ concert, and the next, they were preparing to meet him backstage. All because apparently, their friend knows him.

“How?!” Maia whispered-yelled at her, her eyebrows shooting up.

Y/N could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest for two reasons. One, because she was extremely nervous to admit the truth to them, and two, because with each step they took, it was a step closer to seeing Harry face-to-face for the first time since their breakup.

“Funny story,” she chuckled, letting out a sigh, “Remember I told you about an ex-boyfriend called Harry?”

Natalie lightly slapped her mouth in surprise, while Maia remained silent, her eyes wide. “So you’re telling me that your ex-boyfriend Harry… the one that you dated for almost two fucking years… is fucking Harry Styles?!”

Without knowing what to say, Y/N simply nodded.

“Oh my god… oh my god…” Natalie continued, shaking her head in disbelief. “So basically… when he stared at you during the concert while he sang ‘Love Of My Life’… it was because he saw his ex-girlfriend in the crowd?!”

And again, Y/N simply nodded.

“I can’t believe this, oh my god…” Natalie continued to ramble, “WAIT! So Harry’s House is about you?”

Y/N shrugged, not really knowing what to say. She was almost sure most of the album (or all of it) was about her, many things in the lyrics resonating with her and their relationship, yet she didn’t have 100% confirmation.

After a few seconds of silence and following Jeff around, Maia spoke up, quietly, “Have you talked to him since you broke up?”

“No, it’s the first time I’ll see him in almost a year.” Y/N shook her head, before letting out a deep breath, and quickly glanced at her two friends, “I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you before… I promise I’ll tell you everything later tonight, okay?”

Noticing the guilt Y/N was feeling, knowing that Y/N felt bad for not telling them the entire truth, both Maia and Natalie hugged her from each side. Natalie was the first to comfort her, “Y/N… you don’t owe us an explanation, it’s okay. We’re just surprised, it’s all. It’s not every day that one of your best friend’s ex turns out to be a huge pop star.”

That made Y/N chuckle, and before she could continue on, Maia spoke up, “We love you, and we’re here for you.”

“I love you guys so much,” Y/N smiled, and wrapped each of her arms around their friends, giving them a squeeze. “And please, enjoy meeting him, don’t be biased. Harry’s a lovely and sweet guy, and I know that you’re both extremely excited to meet him. He’s Harry Styles after all.”

Natalie laughed, “And this is why I love you!”

As the atmosphere between the girls lightened up, making Y/N feel much better knowing that her friends supported her, their steps became slower as they noticed Jeff slowed down, too. He paused at one of the doors and turned to look at the three girls.

“Ready?” Jeff said to the girls, but he only looked at Y/N, wanting her reassurance. The girl nodded, trying to give him a light-hearted smile.

The man turned towards the door and knocked a few times, before opening the door. “Please, come in.”

Maia was the first to walk in, Natalie following her, leaving Y/N at the back. Before she could cross the door’s threshold after her friends, Jeff quickly leaned against her, “Thank you for accepting, you have no idea how much he’s missed you.” he murmured in her ear, before letting her go through.

Y/N simply gave him another smile, appreciating the words, before walking through the entrance, holding her breath.

The familiar music of Fleetwood Mac sounded through her ears as it was playing through the room, along with lots of voices engaged in conversation. She was quick to notice where she was; at the “Love Band’s Living Room” (as Sarah loved to call it). It was the room where the band always was in arenas, enjoying themselves before and after concerts, having a snack and a few laughs.

No matter which part of the world they were in, the band always found a room backstage in every arena to make it their own. And no matter what, the room always consisted of a few couches, music playing loudly through the speakers, and a big table with snacks and drinks.

When Harry and Y/N were together during Love on Tour 2021, they would sometimes join them before or after some concerts, and honestly, she’d have the best time chatting with everyone there.

Some things never change.

“Y/N!” Before Y/N could look around, she was being squeezed into a pair of arms. “I can’t believe you’re here! I missed you!”

She was quick to recognize the feminine voice; Sarah.

Sarah was the drummer of the band, and was also one of Y/N’s closest friends, as they would hang out often in the past. They’d go on double dates, they’d enjoy girls' time together, and even Y/N would babysit Mitch and Sarah’s baby quite often.

They never lost contact, even when Harry and she broke up. They’d text from time to time, keeping up with each other’s lives, and always saying that they should meet up someday when the tour was over.

“Sarah!” Y/N exclaimed happily, hugging the drummer back. With all of her nerves about seeing Harry again backstage, she had never considered that maybe she would see the band, too. “I missed you too!”

The two girls broke apart, a smile decorating both of their faces. “I saw you at the beginning of the show, and I couldn’t believe it was you,” Sarah said, making her chuckle.

“I still insist that you should be the leader of the band,” Y/N said playfully, remembering one of the inside jokes that they always had back then.

But what she wasn’t expecting was for someone else to reply to her.

“I think I’m starting to agree with you,” A very, very familiar voice said to her right, and as Y/N turned her head, she felt her heart skip a beat as she looked into Harry’s green eyes.

Harry stood right in front of her, a smile on his lips as she looked at her. Y/N couldn't help but notice how handsome Harry looked, with his charming smile and brown curls decorating his face. He was no longer wearing his concert outfit, instead, he wore a simple white shirt and jeans, along with his vans.

For a moment, they just stood there, lost in their own thoughts as they admired each other.

Finally, Y/N spoke up, a smile on her lips, too. "Hi, Harry."

sorry it took so long! my schedule is crazy but finally, here is pt3 to 'begin again' :)

*it's not edited, i'm sorry if it has any mistakes lol

taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @one-sweet-gubler @jjsgirlp4l @lovingmesstuff @gem1712 @tinyhrry @kipperthedog2004 @behindmygreyeyes @theekyliepage @winterrays @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @slutforcoffein @a-strange-familiar @grapejuice-rry @tranquility-moon @tpwksummer @awkwardbisexuall @ameerakane20 @harryspirate @that-one-little-soybean @voniikg @lovergirl42442 @daydreamingwithaseaview @harrysdaydream22 @lonelyxhabit @obsessed-with-every-book-ever @silenthappyplace @ameerakane20 @hesdebility

#harrystyles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry #harry imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles series #love on tour #harry x reader

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gucciwins · 1 year

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heartbreak, hospitals, and apologies

Word count: 4996

A/N: hi friends! the wait is over. here is part two of bel and harry's fight. hope you enjoy :D

warnings: angst...with happy ending

first part // love on tour series

You huff, sitting on the hospital bed, assuring the two nurses there was no need to call anyone.

“Miss, it’s protocol,” one of them responded, repeating this for the fifth time.

You relent, “fine, can I give you a number?”

“Is your emergency contact not the same? We can change that right now.”

This is harder than it seems. You can’t explain to the kind nurse who’s only doing their job that you don’t want to call your boyfriend because you’re in a fight and haven’t spoken to each other in a week.

“No,” you sigh, leaning back against the hard pillow on your bed. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you, Miss Belmonte. The doctor will be in shortly.”

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying to remember how exactly you got here.

A car ride is something you would have done if you were in Los Angeles, allowing you to run down PCH with the windows down and music blasting out but here in London, driving isn’t something you preferred; walking seemed to be the thing that helped clear your mind the most.

Hampstead Heath is the place that made you fall in love with London and where on one or more occasions, you would meet with Harry to talk about your days or simply enjoy time together. Today, you were spending it alone. You laced up your running shoes, promising yourself you’d run a mile, knowing it’d make you feel better, and then walk the rest of your time there.

The mile went well if it meant feeling your lungs burning by the end of it due to the cold weather. If you were being honest, you preferred to do your morning yoga routine, but Harry always leads each one, and doing without him fills you with hurt. There weren’t many people meaning no need to say excuse me every few minutes. You smiled at a mother pushing her pram as you slowed to a walk. It’s safe to say the quiet at home was getting to you. Naomi told you that picking up your phone to call him is a good first step but not when you were drowning in anger and pain because you hurt Harry.

That was never your intention.

As much as you enjoyed being outside, you preferred to sulk in the comfort of your own home. Your cool down would be the walk home and stretch inside where no one could see you cry.

A small dog was barking as you and its owner waited at the crossing. Once you got the go-ahead, you moved forward, unaware that the dog had stopped barking or that no one else had stepped forward. As soon as you were about to take a second step, the man next to you pushed you back, causing you to stumble and fall to the side, hitting your head and feeling the breeze of the car zooming down the road that would have taken you with it if not for this stranger helping you.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asks, bending down next to you, but everything feels fuzzy. You hear him talk to someone on the street about an ambulance, and you know this is not good news. “Hey, miss?”

“My head hurts,” you reply after a moment. You raise your hand to touch it, but the stranger stops you.

“Don’t do that. You’ll be okay. Help is on the way.”

You decide to trust him because what else can you do for the moment. It could have been two or fifteen minutes. You’re not sure when the paramedics arrived and lifted you on the gurney as if your body was fighting, keeping you awake because as soon the ambulance door slammed closed, your world went black.

That is not a memory you want to remember. Your head hurts thinking about lying on the ground. You fear the media will get a hold of this and run with it. There were so many strangers by the time the ambulance arrived. Still, for once, it’s not a problem you want to take care of, not when a nurse was currently calling your boyfriend, Harry, who you had not spoken to in a week because you felt embarrassed and ashamed for hurting him the way you did. You know that if you had remained calm, the argument wouldn’t have escalated to a full-blown fight with him asking you to leave.

A knock on your door breaks you out of your thoughts, welcoming in the nurse once more. “Miss Belmonte, we got no response from Mr. Styles but left a voicemail. Is there anyone else we can call?”

“Not that currently live here,” you told her honestly.

Harry never liked answering unknown numbers. It’s something you both had in common. It came with the life rather be safe than sorry. He could have mistaken it for a spam call. He couldn’t know it was a hospital trying to reach him about his injured girlfriend.

“Can I try?” You offer.

“Of course, I’ll give you some privacy.” Nurse Lana walks out of the room, closing the door behind her and leaving you alone once more as you try your best to calm your shaky hands as you go to your favorites list, Harry being right on top.

It rings once, twice, and a third before sending her to voicemail.

You sigh, waiting for the machine to beep to begin your message. “Hi, Harry,” you breathe out, your voice shaky, and hope isn’t able to pick up on it so that he doesn’t get worried. “I don’t want to alarm you, but I’m at Royal Free Hospital, and I know you’re busy, so you don’t need to worry about showing up. I’m not expecting you to because I know why you wouldn’t want to see me either way,” you add on, “but I thought you should know that--uh, I got in a small accident. All I got was a minor scratch, but it was all precaution, as you know. I’m fine,” your voice trailing off.

“Miss the Doctor will be in soon.”

“Thank you. Sorry, H. Don’t even worry, Emerson will be here soon enough,” and you hang up without a goodbye or an I love you.

You feel overwhelmed and sad because you want Harry here holding your hand but know you don’t deserve him. Now that the most important call is done, your breathing still feels heavy and uneven. The heart monitor hasn’t settled down yet, and you’re not at all surprised. It seemed Harry had that effect on you, no matter the situation. Your next phone call was to your manager, Viola. She’s quick to answer; it’s something you have always loved about her.

“Y/N, why in god's name are you calling me at six am!!!”

You wince, forgetting about the time difference, but go straight to the matter. “I’m sorry, but I’m in the hospital.”

“Shit, darling. You okay?” Y/N could laugh at the shift in tone but knew her head would begin to throb. “What happened?”

“A car was coming too fast at a crossing, and a stranger pushed me out of the way, but now I have stitches on my temple.”

“Oh dear, are you alright? Is Harry there?”

You sigh, not at all surprised, she asked for them. Everyone knew that when Harry and you were in the same city, there was no separating the two of you. “Harry and I got into an argument and haven't spoken in a few days. Left him a voicemail but don’t know if he’s busy or even in London still.”

“I’m sure he’ll reach out. Do you think the media got a hold of it yet?”

“Maybe,” you shrug and hope that’s not the case. “That’s why I called but also just to check-in. Not feeling too good. Possible concussion. Do you think you can inform Naomi and her family? That I’m okay, but no calls, for now, it hurts my head.”

“Absolutely, I’m on it. Emerson will be at your house prepping everything, pick you up too if you need it.”

“Thank you,” a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, knowing Viola has everything under control.

“No need, darling. I’ll update Emerson and ensure she’s on her way to you soon enough.”

“It’ll be a few hours, no rushing her.”

“Oh, you’re a doll even when injured,” Viola tells you before hanging up.

You close your eyes, your two phone calls done and shut your phone off. The light had made your head throb, and the nurse said resting was okay, so it’s what you intend to do. The doctor could wake you up when he was in to do his round; for now, you want to rest.

_____

You wake up to chatter inside your room, groaning at the light shining in from the window. Someone was quick to close the blinds, which you were grateful for as you slowly opened your eyes, careful not to move your head. You focused on the person standing before you and were surprised to see Harry standing next to a doctor. He looked tired, a frown set on his face, and you knew he was upset and didn’t want to be here with you. It caused your eyes to well up with tears. You didn't want him to see you cry, so you turned away.

“Hi, Miss Belmonte. I’m Dr. Bloom. How are you feeling?”

“The headache dulled,” you respond in a whisper.

“That’s good. I was telling Mr. Styles here that your scans show a minor concussion which is common for a head injury. As for the stitches, you’ll come back to us in three to five days to have them removed, and we’ll do one final exam to check there is no other injury,” Dr. Bloom explains.

“Meaning another MRI,” you sigh, knowing it’s going to be a tough week.

“Afraid so, but we’re hopeful everything will come back clear then. We’ll begin the discharge paperwork now, and you’ll be free to go home in a few hours.”

Dr. Bloom excuses herself, and you’re left alone with the man who’s been in your dreams every night since you walked out of his house. You remember how awful you felt when you walked out and how you were fighting to turn around and tell Harry you’d say everything, but your hurt heart pushed you away from the one person you loved the most.

Now he’s standing in front of you, not a hint of emotion on his face. It’s like you were staring at a stranger. You hate that you caused this, that you were selfish in keeping something quiet, that you’ve lost your other half.

“Harry,” you whimper.

It seems to break the tension in the hospital room because he steps toward you, sitting on the side of the bed as he scans every part of your body to see where else you’re hurt and what he can do to help.

“How you feeling? Hmm,” he asks, even though he just heard you tell the doctor how you were feeling.

“I’m okay, tired.” You tell him honestly.

“Em dropped your clothes off.”

You frown, “she didn’t stay?”

Harry shakes his head. “No. Viola has her doing some things for you.”

If Viola needed her, that was okay. You settle down, letting Harry’s voice ease down all the emotions you had stored inside of you. You don’t deserve to have him here, but you won’t be asking him to leave. Harry falls silent, and you know he must have a million thoughts running through his head, just like you do.

There’s so much you want to say, mainly sorry. Sorry for hurting him.

“Harry, I’m sorry,” you let out, letting your eyes meet his.

He looks confused for a second, but it clicks, and you see the shield rise to keep you out.

“Y/N–”

“You have to know I never meant to hurt you,” you plead for him to understand. You don’t even notice the rise in your heart monitor, but Harry does.

“Not now.” He tells you sternly. “I don’t want to talk about that right now. I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”

You deflate, feeling your heart sink, and know that this really must be the end. He only showed up because he was obligated by hearing your voicemail and the hospital's. He knows you don’t have anyone here you trust, not without relation to him. You nod, trying and failing to offer him a smile, so instead, you close your eyes hoping the nurse returns soon to let you go home.

“Y/N?”

No more Bel.

It seems you were really losing Harry, and there was nothing you could do. This was the beginning of the end. Harry would take you home, and you’d probably never see him again because he couldn’t forgive you for breaking his heart.

“Why are you crying?” His voice was soft and full of concern.

You feel his thumb wipe away a tear, and you wonder how you managed not to feel them escaping you.

“Sorry,” you apologize.

He frowns, not able to understand what you’re apologizing for.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about Dylan and leaving your house upset. For not calling you all week until I needed you.”

Harry knows you’re not in a secure emotional state for this conversation. It isn’t fair to him, and it isn’t fair to you. He stops you once again.

“Now isn’t the time,” his tone was firm and final.

Your mouth falls close, and you feel your face fall. Usually, you’re better at hiding your emotions, but after the day you had, there’s no facade, and Harry can see every bit of emotion on your face. It seems definite that when you have this conversation, you will lose Harry, and he’s too considerate to break up with you in a hospital.

“Bel,” he sighs, running a hand through his already messed-up hair. “I’m not giving up on you. Now and here is not the place for that conversation.”

A hospital is definitely not how you saw this conversation with Harry growing; if he wanted a different environment, you would allow him that. He deserves better, and you have to start proving to him it could still be you.

_______

After signing endless forms, you were free to go, released in the care of Harry. The nurse promised to personally see you in five days to remove the stitches. Your job–or Harry’s- was to ensure the wound stayed clean and uninfected.

By protocol, you were brought down to Harry’s car in a wheelchair, where Harry stopped to take a photo of where he promised to only show Mitch and Sarah. You rolled your eyes, not caring who he showed because you trusted him. Harry helped you buckle in, making sure you were comfortable before getting in and driving you away from the hospital you hoped to never visit again but knew it would be unavoidable as you’d be back in a few days.

Harry had piano tunes playing in the car, and you know he did that when he was headed to the studio. You wondered if Harry was at the studio when he received the call or was on his way there. You wondered if you ruined his day by hearing the news you were in the hospital.

“Naomi called me,” Harry tells you, breaking the silence.

“Hmmm…”

“Was wondering how you’re doing?”

“And what you tell her, Doc?”

Harry shoots you a funny smile, “told her you’re taking it like a champ.”

You’re unsure about that, and you decide to brush past that. “When’s her flight landing?”

He laughs, shaking his head, “what?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I’d be on the first flight out if it was her.”

“She arrives tomorrow afternoon with Viola. There were things both of them had to reschedule before flying out.”

That does not surprise you. It’s hard to drop everything you’re doing for someone who lives oceans away. You’re thankful for them and will remind them to show them when they arrive. You focus back on the road in time to see Harry take a right turn instead of a left. You frown but don’t say a word until he stops outside your house gates.

Harry presses the remote for your gates and pulls up the driveway. He parks next to your car, looks over at you and takes note of the frown on your face.

“Hey, you’re home. What’s wrong?”

You shrug, hoping he lets it go, and you go to get out of the car when he stops you.

“You can tell me, Bel.”

“It’s selfish,” you mutter.

“What is?”

“I-I just thought you’d take me home with you.”

Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I thought you didn’t want to be there. You gave me my key back.”

You reach for his hand but stop yourself, unsure if he’s comfortable with that small action. “That isn’t why I gave it back, Harry.”

The silence lingers in the air, and you aren’t sure where to go from here.

“Are you sure you’re up for this conversation? You haven’t even made it inside.”

You drop your head, trying your best to keep your tears in, something this headache broke in you was how much you seemed to be crying, but if you were being honest, the reason you keep crying is because you know the possibility of losing Harry is high. “I can’t keep doing this, avoidance,” you croak out.

Harry exhales a long breath, looking at your house and then back at you. “Can we go somewhere else? Not sure I want to taint your house with any bad memories.”

You know he didn’t mean to hurt you with his words, but the wound is so fresh that your heartaches at the memories you have left him within the home he opened you into with open arms. Now, he’ll always relate it back to when you hurt him the most by walking away and not being willing to fight for him.

“Anywhere you want, H. I’d follow you anywhere,” you tell him honestly.

That gets you a hint of a smile, one that you haven’t seen in over a week and miss desperately.

“Alright, buckle up again then.”

You’re not sure if you should prepare for the worst or the best, but for now, you’ll go in with an open mind to show Harry you love him and will not give up on him.

______

Harry drives for some time up an unfamiliar road. It’s full of greenery and the occasional farm animal. You aren’t sure how long he’s been going, but you’ve seen him relax through the ride, no longer gripping the wheel like his life depended on it. Instead, one hand was on the steering wheel and the other on his lap. You know that hand used to rest comfortably on your thigh where he’d give you a squeeze every few minutes to check in on you. You took it to mean I love you. Now, you’ve been tiptoeing around each other, not allowing each of you any kind of touch to each other.

He pulls up a beaten path to display a small lake with only a handful of ducks swimming around. You look at Harry, waiting for him to tell you more about where he’s brought you, but he tells you to wait for him to come around to help you. He watches your every move as he guides you out of the car. Harry begins walking up a dirt trail, he grabs your hand, placing it on his bicep, and you let him guide you. This lake is secluded, with no sign of other people and many birds chirping in the trees. It must be a place many are unfamiliar with because, from the looks of the run-down bench, there is no upkeep happening.

“Sit with me, Bel.”

You feel your heart in your throat but do as he asks. The entire ride, you have been thinking about what you were going to say, but there are so many ways this conversation can go, and the thing you want most is to walk away knowing Harry still has your heart, and you have his.

“How’d you find this place?” You ask, genuinely curious.

Harry smiles, “early days after buying my house in London, I wanted to get away without being recognized, and I kept driving until I took a wrong turn and ended up here. I like meditating here or running. There’s a start of a trail about a quarter mile away,” he points behind you to the trail you had initially started on and sees the entrance straight out of a fairytale book as if stepping behind the tree line will take you to a new world.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I enjoy it. Now don’t go breaking my heart here, Bel,” Harry jokes, trying to break the ice to this challenging conversation.

The fact that Harry has said those words to you more than once makes your chest tighten up. You hurt him, and it’s clear it's not something either of you will easily move past. You might never forgive yourself for hurting him the way you did.

“Harry, I–that’s the last thing I ever want to do. I’d break mine a thousand times before thinking of breaking your heart. I hate that you keep saying it,” you confess and know he’s heard you because he’s fallen silent once more.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “There’s so much we need to say, and I hope we can let it go here,” he offers.

You nod and turn your body to face him. This will not be easy, but you have to confront all the emotions you’ve been holding back. Harry deserves all your honesty. It’s silent for a moment, and you know Harry is waiting for you to begin because, in your eyes, he has nothing to apologize for.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” you start, your voice wavering as you fight back the tears. “I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Dylan. He was–he’s a big part of my past I don’t look back at because there’s so much hurt connected to when I first met him. Even when we met again, our connection was the pain he was going through and nothing more. I know I should have told you, but it didn’t seem important, not when I hadn’t seen him as anything more than a friend for years.” You’re careful to wipe away your tears, not wanting to mess with the bandage on the side of your head. “He’s a friend, one that had the honor of meeting my family, but that doesn’t change a thing for me because you’ve also met my family. You’ve seen the people who care the most about me, and they love you. I love you,” you remind him. “You don’t have to forgive me. I was selfish. You opened up to me in a way that no one ever has, baring their soul to me, and I-I think by keeping a few things close to my chest could be my way out if you ever hurt me.”

“I never planned on hurting you,” he tells you in a low tone. You hear the crack in his voice.

“I-I know,” you cry. “From the moment I met you, you showed me kindness and respect. It's why I fell in love with you. From the first moment, I felt safe with you.”

Harry cracks a smile at your confession. “I believe you. I–I hate the way I found out. That your friends still joke about him or know about his feelings towards you.”

“You have to know I would never hurt you like that. Cheating is something we’ve both shared how we’ve seen it hurt others and ourselves, and I would never forgive myself for betraying someone like that, let alone you, H.”

“Thank you.”

“As for Naomi and Sarai, I’m not sure why they said he is still in love with me. Dylan’s been a good friend throughout my career, and as far as I know, he’s very much in love with his girlfriend, Allie. He hasn’t made anything public, but he’s always going on double dates with Logan and Ana.”

Harry takes in all the information, and you no longer feel a weight on your chest, but you’re still nervous because he can accept your apology, but it doesn’t mean he forgives you.

“Do you have other secrets?” He asks.

You shake your head, “no.”

“Positive?” He teases.

“Naomi listed everything out to me if you want to check with her,” you joke. “You can really put her through the test.”

“She says you haven’t been calling,” Harry changes the subject.

You sigh, raising your hand to rub your temple, feeling the beginning of a headache coming to you. “She’s told me to call you every day. I ignored her because I felt like I couldn’t because you asked for space. Then I got into my own head, thinking I deserved the pain I felt for hurting you.”

“When you gave me that key back, I thought that was it,” he confessed.

“Oh, Harry.” You reach your hand out to him and smile when he accepts it, raising it to his lips to give you a kiss. “I felt like I had broken your trust and didn’t deserve the key and what it signified. Not when you trusted me so much. That was me respecting your space.”

“Bel–”

“Maybe it was too far,” you add, knowing that in the heat of the moment, you weren’t sure how to feel but looking back now, there’s so much you would have done differently.

“A bit,” he teased.

“I am really sorry, Harry. It was never my intention to hurt you,” you feel him squeeze your hand and let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t let go.

“I know, Bel. I know.” Harry looks out to the lake, resting your intertwined hands in his lap. “It just felt like you didn’t trust me when from the start you said honesty and communication were an important foundation to have in a relationship.”

“I trust you with my life, H. The relationship I had with him was not something I saw lasting, as I didn’t want to be known as his girlfriend. There’s a reason I never went public with him. Our views were too different.”

“Did you feel like I forced you to announce our relationship?” Harry asks, and you know he’s referring to the final night in New York.

“Not at all,” you assure him. “It was different; with you, we were taking steps to get to know each other as I traveled with you. We did things out of order, but it made me love you even more. I told you that day I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure about you. Harry, you’re the biggest constant in my life. When I feel lost, I look to you as my north star. You bring me home wherever you are.”

Harry sniffles, taking in your words. “I love you, Y/N. The love I have for you can’t even be described, and when I got those voicemails from the hospital and I–I didn’t know if you were okay. I was scared that the last memory I would have of you was walking away from me, and there was nothing I did to stop you because I was the one who sent you away.”

“Harry, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think—I’m so sorry.”

“The relief of seeing you on the hospital bed with only a minor injury was enough to know that I’d do anything to work through this with you because I want you through the good and the bad. I want it all with you, baby.”

Harry stands up, pulling you with him, and he wraps you in a big embrace, careful not to squeeze you too tight but enough to assure himself that he’s got you safe in his arms.

“Te amo, te amo con todo mi corazón,” you promise him.

“I love you too.” He kisses the top of your head. “I forgive you.”

“H, you don’t have to say that.”

Harry pulls back, gently cupping your face, “hey, look at me.” You stare at him with tears in your eyes. “I forgive you because I love you. We’ll work through this, baby. It’s you and me.”

“Tu y yo.”

“That’s right, Bel. Now let’s get you home. You’ve been gone long enough.”

“Wait,” you stop him.

“Baby, please. Let me take you home, run you a nice bath and give you cuddles.”

You feel your face flush, thankful to know you’re going to be okay, that he loves you and you love him. That you might have been selfish, but not anymore, not when you were close to losing him. Harry is the love of your life, and you know that will never change.

“I want a kiss,” you whisper. “Can I kiss you, Harry?”

Harry melts at your words, closing the gap between you. “These lips have been lonely, huh,” he teases. “I can fix that.”

“Dork.”

He leans in, pressing his lips against yours as they move together like no time has passed. You missed his kisses and touch; you mostly missed being with him. Harry filled you with love and safety, and not having him made you realize how much you love him. Some people are lucky enough to find their other halves, their soulmates, and you know you found yours.

You know you and Harry would argue in the future, it was inevitable, but there will also be happy times, and no matter what, you would always find your way back to him.

thank you for reading mis amores 💜 come tell me what loved

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iliketotalk · 16 days

Text

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆ NEXT TO YOU - C.S

warnings: angsty, toxic!chris, mention of drugs and alcohol, suggestive, sexual assault, mentions of blood, reader struggles with mental health

chris has always been the type of guy to believe in the ‘no relationship’ thing to feed his ego, but having a no strings attached fling with you makes him realise maybe he isn’t made for that lifestyle. but does he have the guts to admit it to you?

a/n: this story will probably have more than 1 part so idk how many exactly but it definitely won’t be more than 3 anyways i hope u like it 😖

wordcount: 1,675

playlist

PART 2 - TWENTY EIGHT

PART 3 - FALLEN STAR

“oh, i gotta get next to you.”

The skyline glows with the busy city lights brightening it subtly. Along the loud rhythm of music flows the sound of people chatting, the wind blowing and cars driving past underneath the 10 storey building. The rooftop is full of people I most definitely am not the same level as. Influencers, youtubers, and even singers I’ve never even seen in my entire life sit in every corner, smiling, laughing and looking happy as ever. I envy them.

I’m not sure why I thought it was a good idea to come out today. My best friend, Sam literally dragged me out of my house to bring me here. I’ve been in a weird episode for the past few weeks and I’ve had zero motivation to do anything in my life. And this party - nope. Not my vibe today. Maybe a couple of months ago, but not today. Not now.

————————————

My bedroom was like a dump to stay in; clothes were strewn across the floor like a patchwork carpet of dirty outfits, my bed was literally invisible from the amount of crumpled blankets and sheets thrown on top of it carelessly. And don’t even ask about myself.

“Girl, I don’t even recognise you anymore. You need to come to your senses like - at this point I don’t even know what to say to you. I just miss the old Y/N. My heart sank at the last sentence. She wasn’t even angry or shouting, she just seemed sad, if anything. The door slammed shut. I sat and stared at my wall in the deafening silence for a good half hour before shaking myself off and looking at the pit I was sitting in.

It was 2 hours in cleaning my room and I had finally finished. I threw myself on my bed and made invisible angels in the covers. My room smelt clean, my bed sheets had finally been changed after countless days, no clutter was lying on my desk, and there was definitely no clothes in sight. I felt good. Then I felt the door reopen suddenly.

“What the fuck?” Sam shrieked, her mouth wide open. She glanced at me with a spark in her eye. “I am. So. Proud of you.” She said before running and jumping onto me in my bed. “Thanks. I need to have a shower though. It’s been nearly 2 weeks.” I chuckle before pushing her off and pulling my clothes off. “Yeah you don’t need to clarify that babes, I can smell it.” She sat upright and squinted her eyes at me. Oh god. “I’m going to a party tonight-“ No. I know what she’s going to say. “You’re coming with me-“ I stopped her abruptly “Absolutely not. There’s no way.”

I was wrong, not even 10 minutes had gone by and she had me doing full glam makeup and straightening my hair in the bathroom for a party I couldn’t care less about.

————————————

I’ve been standing here by the fence for a while now, the drink Sam poured me from when we first arrived still in my hand full. Boredom gets to me and I start pouring it down to watch it splatter onto the ground dozens of feet beneath me. “Wasteful much?” A voice looms beside me and I drop the cup. A guy voice. “Dude - you could’ve warned me you were there, I mean thanks to you I-“ I annoyedly replied, turning around to see the dick that made me jump in the first place and my voice fades. We lock eyes immediately and I feel my stomach drop.

The way he’s looking at me, as if he’s trying to read me, draw me in, understand me is intimidating. I open my mouth to say something, anything, and all of a sudden, I can’t speak. And instead, my lips curve into a mere pout. My cheeks heat up a rosy pink and I turn back around to look at the glass buildings in front of me to play it off. I am literally the most embarrassing person in the world.

God, avoiding his stare is so difficult. I can feel his eyes trailing onto my back, the black skin-tight dress I’m wearing, my legs. They’re like lasers, leaving scars wherever they go. “So what’s your deal?” He smirks. What an asshole. “I don’t have one. Quit staring at my ass, I know it’s great.” I pounce back. Two can play this game. “Didn’t even give me a chance to say it myself, damn.” He chuckled and turned to face the same direction as me. I stay silent. The scent of his cologne getting stronger and stronger as I feel him etch closer to me. “Staring is rude, you know. Mommy didn’t ever teach you manners?” I mocked, I love crushing a guys ego.

Instead, he laughed. Not patronisingly though - he genuinely laughed. “Nah, not when someone like you is stood right there in front of me” Someone like me? He definitely speaks to every girl he meets like this. I turn around to face him but the way he’s observing me is so intimidating. Damn, this guy knows how to hold eye contact. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I whisper slowly, staring at his full lips that he so teasingly licks. I don’t realise it but I’m desperately squeezing my thighs together, underwhelmed by the space between us and begging for some friction. His arms come over the fence and moves my hand away from my face. “You know.”

Before I can even process his words, his lips come crashing into me and his stubble grazes my cheeks softly. My body freezes but moulds into his shape so quickly. The taste of his alcohol mixed with the sweet lip gloss I’m wearing is deadly. My hands come up to his hair without even realising it and I tug on his strands, begging for more. He notices and in return, his lips trail down to my jaw - to my neck and he starts sucking on the hollow part of my collarbone. How does he know so well where to touch me? I slip out a whimper and push him away for a second. I’m not going to be doing this in public. “Mine?” He clears his throat and breathes out, his index finger hooked under my dress strap, still latching onto me. I nod.

He leads me through the crowded indoors and I frantically search for Sam in the herd of intoxicated people, until I hear her voice behind me. “Y/N! Where are you going, it’s still early!” She shouts, trying to get closer to me. My eyes widen and I point my head towards him by the door, and I realise I don’t even know his name but I’m about to have sex with him. I need to have better standards. “Ohhh okay I see youu, go catch your dick mami” She smirks and I kiss her cheek goodbye “I’ll see you tomorrow, thanks for today” I say.

When we leave the complex, it suddenly feels so quiet and cold. “So your name’s Y/N? You never told me.” I roll my eyes, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

I can’t just go to someone’s place and not know anything about them, it’s weird. “You know what, how about let’s do a real introduction. Start over, no?” I suggest sticking my hand out, in which he pulls a funny face at. “Uh, okay..I’m Chris.” He chuckles while placing his hand in mine to shake. “I’m Y/N. How’s your day been today?” I pull away and start walking backwards to see his face properly. “Eh, it was okay. Until I saw a weird girl standing by herself and pouring drinks down a balcony for no reason like a psychopath.” He giggled while kicking litter on the sidewalk like a teen. “Um, rude much? And you kissed me, so I guess you’re a psycho too, then?” I ask while slowing down and turning back around. “Yeah, I guess I am.” He pulls me in by my arm and we walk the rest of the journey to his place.

————————————

“We’re here.” He finally says, it feels as if we’ve been walking for hours. Number twenty-eight.

He pulls out his keys and opens the door slowly, as if he’s trying to be quiet. “Sorry, my brothers are probably asleep right now” he rolls his eyes and lets me in. “You have brothers?” I say, acting surprised when you can really tell by the look of the house. It looks so lived in, especially by men. The look of the house, even if you ignore the slight mess of it just looks so frat-boyish. “Yeah, I’m a triplet, You got lucky you ran into me tonight though” he flashes a quick wink at me before pulling off his jacket and beanie. I sit myself down in the living room and all of a sudden, it goes silent again.

Crickets chirping. Awkwardness fills every void.

“So-” I try to say before being cut off by his lips crashing into mine once again, damn he needs to warn me when he does that. I tense up but give in almost immediately. I can’t seem to get enough of his taste, his touch or his smell. The scent of his musky cologne filling my senses makes my core heat up like never before. I think I’ve forgotten how it is to be touched since it’s not happened for so long. My palms glide over his groin and tug on his belt, signalling him to take it off and his voice hitches into a slight groan.

His hands come around from my back to my hips, picking me up so effortlessly to his bedroom. The black skirt I’m wearing rides up my thighs as he slides his fingers up to grab my ass. The cold sensation of his rings against my skin makes me clench and goosebumps ride all over my arms and legs.

This is going to be a long night.

RAHHH I FINALLY FINISHED THIS CHAPTER

its taken me about 4 days to actually get to this

anyway idk when the next chapter will be bc im kinda unmotivated and can’t come up with stuff anymore

PLEASE COMMENT IF U WANT TO BE ON A TAGLIST FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER!!! reblogs are also appreciated lololol anyway thanks ilysm for reading this <3

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be-with-me-so-happily · 1 year

Note

hows my babies doing??? i miss themmmm <3

Eeeeek! It makes me so happy when someone misses and asks about EWTNC Harry and Stylist YN! I love them so much! So here's a little update.

~~~~~

Photo credits to the owners.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY

Harry hears the bedroom door creak open, keeping his eyes closed and pretending to still be asleep. He can hear the giggles getting closer, and feels the bed shift as two little bodies try to subtly crawl up on top.

"Quietly, okay?" You whisper. "One... two... th-"

"Happy Birthday, Daddy!"

"Hap Bir-day, Daddy!"

Harry pops up in the bed, and turns over to see Winnie grinning, Milo picking at a booger, and you holding a cup of tea, and placing it on the bedside table next to him.

"My goodness! Thank you, my loves!" He exclaims. He grabs both of his children into his arms and tackles them on the bed, causing a burst of laughter.

"Ah! Daddy! No!" Winnie exclaims, her eyes squeezed shut and her smile stretching across her face.

You can't help but feel your chest fill with warmth as you watch them all interact. Doesn't matter what they're doing, if it's together, you always feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude and joy.

"Alright you three, time to get up."

"No…" Harry whines, quickly matched by the children.

"Okay, I guess I'll just head to the kitchen and eat all of the delicious birthday breakfast by myself then." You state, slowly turning around as you pretend that your intention is to walk away.

"Oh no you don't!" You hear behind you, as you feel Harry grasp your wrist, twisting you around and pulling you onto the bed. Winnie and Milo quickly pounce, using their little fingers and giving their best efforts to tickle your sides. You glance over to Harry, being met with a look of pure admiration, and he gives you a sweet smile.

"You win! I surrender!" You throw up your hands and they maneuver off you, giggling at their victory. "How about we have that breakfast now."

Winnie and Milo hop off the bed, and you watch as they shuffle out of the room. You turn back to Harry, who still has that same beautiful look on his face, and you sit up on top of the sheets.

"Happy Birthday, Rockstar." You reach your hand up to his cheek and lean in for a kiss. "Who would have thought that the boy in bandanas would be a husband and dad at twenty-nine! Feel old yet?"

"No, just lucky."

A blush forms on your cheeks and you still don't understand how he can manage to do that to you, after over eight years of being with him.

"Alright, you sap, let's get out of bed before they make a mess."

You grab his hand to pull him up off the bed, but he lets out a low growl, pulling you back down and shifting his body to hover over you.

His short curls fall into his face, his necklaces hang down in front of you, and his lips meet your neck. That same spot that he knows so well.

"Maybe later we can get back into bed and make a mess of our own."

"You need to-" You take a quick breath, as he seems to have taken it out of you. "You need to focus. You've got a show to put on tonight."

"Oh, I can definitely give you a show."

"Harry!" You exclaim with a chuckle, weakly attempting to push him off of you, though not much of your strength is put behind your effort.

"It's my birthday…" He replies, lowering his entire body onto yours, and you wish you could give him exactly wants. And, frankly, what he deserves. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling his face closer for a deep, passionate, and lustful kiss, causing him to let out that low growl once again.

One of his hands squeezes your hip, pressing his own into you, and you let out a quiet moan. At this point, you don't care how the kitchen looks, you just want to look at him, like this.

However, you both pull apart as soon as you hear a little yelp from Milo and Winnie instantly telling him that she is sorry. You sigh, feeling the heat between your legs and the bulge between Harry's. He gives you one last, quick kiss and then moves off of you.

You scoot off of the bed and swiftly turn around, meeting his gaze, showing that he hadn't taken his eyes off of you.

"To be continued." You quietly tease, and his eyes widen along with a grin.

"Well, Happy Birthday to me!"

~~~~~

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"You don't like it?" He dramatically hits his palm against his chest as his mouth drops open, knowing full well that you love his outfit, considering the way your eyes are traveling up and down his body. "Winnie helped pick it out. I think she's following in her mummy's footsteps."

"Mhm." You hum, still running your gaze all over his body, focusing on his bare, toned, tattooed chest, that you wish you could lick all over.

"Sunshine, I've worn stuff like this before…" Harry chuckles, stepping forward and placing his hands on your hips.

"I know. There's just something about it tonight…" You reply, letting out a breath you didn't even realize you had been holding. Even after all of this time, after the thousands of outfits you've seen him in, and styled him in, he still somehow manages to take your breath away. You look up to him, placing your hands on his chest and running them down his smooth skin. "But… I have to say… I do prefer you in your birthday suit."

"Fucking hell, YN." He whimpers, leaning down to take your bottom lip between his teeth. "Already ripped one pair of pants on stage… I'm not 'bout to go out there with m'dick standing straight out!"

"Right… it's a family show…" You smirk, leaning up to place a kiss on his earlobe. "But it won't be tonight."

"Oh my god." He mumbles under his breath.

"Daddy! Daddy!" You suddenly hear Winnie's little voice coming from the hallway and Harry gives you a quick kiss on the lips before stepping back and swiftly adjusting himself. Then he looks over and gives you a smile with so many meanings. Lust, adoration, maybe a little disappointment, but also happiness in its purest form.

"I love you, Sunshine." He utters.

"I love you too, Rockstar."

Winnie comes through the doorway, rushing over to the two of you, with Milo trying to keep up behind her. "Look what Milo found for you!"

Milo moves in front of his sister, with his hands in front of him, holding the blue balloon that the two of you clearly spotted as soon as he walked in.

"This is for me, Bub?" Harry asks, kneeling down to his son, who hands him the string.

"Ba-woon, Daddy!"

"It's for your birthday!" Winnie squeals, with just as much excitement as Milo, showing off some pride for her younger brother.

"Thank you, darlings! I love it!" Harry expressed, with a smile as wide as theirs, and his heart full of joy. He looks up to you, smiling with all the love he can portray through just an expression, and then wraps Winnie and Milo into a big hug. "And I know exactly what m'gonna do with it."

~~~~~

Series Masterlist

~~~~~

Overall Taglist: @watermelonsugacry @tw1nflamebruis3 @hopefulwastelandcreation @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @queenmadi2 @runway-to-my-aid @theekyliepage @be-yourss @b-reads-things @behindmygreyeyes @michellekstyles @a-strange-familiar @yousunshineyoutempter @buckybarnessimpp @sarcas-latte @msolbesg @sleutherclaw @katiebaxterrrrrr @percysaidnever @thatbitch2828 @mrspeacem1nusone @thurhomish @harrystylesrecs @vickiii17 @itsbebeyyy @divalovesyou @bxbyysstuff @jessitpwk @sunshinemoonsposts @theroosterswife24 @boybands-baseball @austynparksandpizza @missmielyhoran @harryspirate @qualitygiantshoepsychic @tiaamberxx @matildasatellite @fool4him @cherryshouse @yatebe-kohayu @perfectzinenerdperson @babyiamperfectforyou @daphnesutton @around1302 @daydreamingofmatilda @swiftmendeshoran

If your name is blue, I couldn't tag you.

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eveningepiphany · 8 months

Text

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 3

my masterlist!

part one and part two!

summary: harry goes over to y/ns hotel for a good old room service dinner, also getting a little tipsy on wine, while starting to blur some lines. and it’s not long before things are no longer just between the two of them.

warnings: fluff, swearing, alcohol, getting a lil wine drunk, paparazzi, being confused on if you’re falling in love or just really good friends.

a/n: i’m so excited to finally have this written for you all! i’ve had some pretty bad writers block, hence the delay in getting it to you, but thank you so much again for your support and I hope you enjoy <3

———

There’s a certain type of attatchment that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s when things start to flourish. Maybe with a hobby, a passion, or a new found person. One your brain decides to put all its focus and interest on, to the point it’s all consuming.

This one gets stuck to you like glue. Hard to shake in the sense of no matter how hard you try to ignore it, it’s all you can think about.

Losing yourself in daydreams of something or someone without even realising, until you’re reaching for anything that will bring you closer to filling that need.

That’s exactly what’s leading you to be reaching for your phone at any given point of the day.

You imagine many perceive it to be a permanent growth on your person. But you can hardly help it. Texting is a simple way to reach someone. Feel connected.

So, safe to say you’ve messaged Harry more than your own family over the course of this trip.

You’ve become attached. To Harry Styles. Again…?

Of course, being a huge fan it’s easy to say you should probably already be accustomed to this, given your level of obsession.

But this is a whole other ball game. One that is becoming like an internal battle. Your already unhealthy and predisposed infatuation paired with now a real physical connection is enough to render you useless.

You reach for your phone. Text him, your brain begs. You consider. No, stop being clingy you loser, your brain rolls her metaphorical eyes. You place the phone down. Stare at a wall. Think about him. Rinse, repeat.

Not normal, you don’t think.

However, you search for some kind of justification. That you’re just good friends, and all that shit. It’s normal to miss someone you’re friends with.

If he considers you as that.

Which you would hope since you’ve been texting him enough it would be concerning if he saw you as just some mutual of his.

You’re also sitting in a cafe, unfortunately without him right now. Eating a croissant wishing that he were here. Allowing your gaze to linger on the chair across from yourself, imagining his solid frame filling up the empty space. What he would do if you stood up and ran a hand through his hair, maybe lent down a little so you could just—

The ring of the bell atop their entrance chimes and drags you out if your dangerous and spiralling thoughts. And for some reason get excited like you’ve somehow manifested this man to walk through the cafe door by thinking of him.

Feeling silly at the nag of disappointment in your stomach as you see an ordinary bloke saunter over to the till.

Maybe one you would check out, or emit some kind of interest in before you properly met Harry. You would feel disloyal now. Like the parasocial relationship has entered an entirely new level of psychotic.

If it’s still parasocial, that is. Or if now you’re just simply a girl with very cloudy and mixed feelings about a very beautiful man.

You audibly sigh out. Eating the final bite of your admittedly delicious croissant and picking up your phone.

You type out a message, sending it before you can even think it.

I’m in a cafe right now without you and you’ve honestly ruined them for me. I miss you and your free cups of tea.

Without me? Rude.

You laugh at his quip, watching as the little bubble pops back up indicating he’s typing.

I’m out right now, but if you’re not busy later we can do something? Go out or I can come over to yours.

You pluck mindlessly at your bottom lip with your teeth, how could you say no to that?

You stress over it either way.

well, you’re very welcome to come over to my hotel room. we can order room service if you want?

To this he texts back an agreement, seemingly keen. And you realise immediately you have to tidy your room before he comes over.

You swing him the location of where you’re staying, including your room and floor number.

Thank you love, ill be there in like 3 hours say? If that works for you.

At that, you stand, because who are you if not over-prepared. And it was time to go make sure your room didn’t like a war had been waged in it when he came over for the first time.

Cant be having a bad impression, you figured.

———

You did in fact rush back to your hotel complex. Not even stopping a crepe stall you passed by, which had to be a first for you. You clean the place until it appears well-kept at the least.

And once you’re finished, you easily fall back into overthinking the whole thing. So excited, yet getting those anxious jitters like a caffeine addict 12 hours no coffee.

Which is why you decide to busy yourself with an afternoon shower. And at the time you’d still had over an hour to go.

You take of course longer than you intended, and shortly after you come out there’s a knock at your door, easily making you jump as you tug a shirt over your head. Regretting the last minute decision for a shower since now you have wet hair and probably look like a right mess.

But it’s not like you can leave him out there while you go blow dry your hair, so you rush over to the door, and tug it open.

His brows shoot up, and a smile slowly blooms on his face as he takes in your appearance.

Your hair is still near dripping, and you stand in bike shorts and a loose tshirt. The most casual he’s ever seen you. Which he loved the look on you more than he admits to himself.

“Hi darling,” he smirks, a warm feeling settling over him as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Hey, Harry.” You stand for a few moments longer, finally shuflling out of his way to let him through the door. He is adorning a white shirt and has the cutest little bandana around his neck.

“I’m sorry,” You laugh, gesturing him inside, “I was drastically overestimating how long it would take me to shower… hence why im in this state.”

He pulls a hand from behind his back, a cup being presented to you.

“Don’t be silly, y’not in a state at all.”

“You’re joking—“ You gently take the cup from his ringed hands, “Harry!”

“M’sorry, m’sorry. I saw a coffee van on the way and I couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you get one for you?”

“No, but I did have a little sip of yours.” He confesses with a quiet laugh. But he quickly busies himself with your room, padding around and peeking out the balcony window.

You take a sip, watching him examine your space. Grateful you cleaned it.

He asks you a few questions about random things in your room, and you settle yourself on the foot of your bed, cross-legged.

You didn’t really think about the lack of seating in your one man room. But this hardly bothers Harry, since he’s scoped up the room service menu from wherever he found it, and sat next to you.

“Alright… what d’we have.” He talks to himself, opening up the menu and scanning over the foods.

You discuss the options, settling on a pizza and pasta to share, because, well, you’re in Italy.

The night progresses easily as time always seems to do when you’re together, and you fake fight over the best kind of pasta sauce. But he lets you have to last slice of pizza so peace is made shortly after.

“Should we order a wine or something? T’wash the pasta down.” He suggests as the sun begins setting.

“Why not, I won’t say no to some wine.”

That gets ordered to your door, and you go from the foot of the bed to lazing at the head of it. Sipping on wine and recounting old stories, or discussing stupid topics.

“Do you think the chicken or the egg came first?” You swirl your glass around, eyes shifting to look at his side profile as he gazes at your roof.

His cute nose outlined by the warm light off the lamp, which you flicked on in the corner after it got dark.

He bursts out into a laugh, “what kind of question is that?”

“I feel like it indicates the sort of person someone is.” You shrug, smiling.

“What like it gives you an intel on my personality?”

“Something like that.” You nod, “and decides if we have to stop being friends, if you answer the wrong one.”

He grins, “Well, maybe tell me which one to pick so we don’t have to do that.”

“Awh, so you don’t want to stop being friends?” You coo, still staring at him, watching as his eyes flick from the roof over to you.

“Of course not, who else am I meant to go on cafe dates with.” He laughs.

You’re both teetering on the edge of being tipsy, and it’s evident in the way you’re both talking to one another. Borderline flirting, probably a more fitting way to describe it.

“True, because I’d be very hard to replace.” You snort with sarcasm, taking the another sip of wine.

“You would be! I love our little dates.” He smiles, the second time he’s dropped the word date in the last minute.

You’ve scooted closer to one another somehow. Shoulder to shoulder as you steal glances of his beautiful face. Maybe this was subconscious, or on purpose. But you’re drawn to him like a magnet.

“So do I…” You flush.

“I’m a little tipsy.” You clarify, breaking the searing eye contact and looking at the near-empty glass in your hand. A fourth refill would easily tip you over the edge.

He lets out a quiet laugh, “Wine gone to y’head too?”

“Mhm, and I have a track record of poor decision making when I have too much of it.” You recall the plenty of times you did the stupidest shit just because you were wine drunk. Hoping that does not happen tonight.

“Might have to see it one day.”

“One day…” you agree, but you realise that you’re not really in Italy for much longer. You have about a week and a half left now.

“I… Harry,” you turn your body to face him, and he sits up a little, noticing the almost serious tone to your voice.

“I’m leaving soon.” You blurt it out, because it’s the only topic of conversation you’ve both been steering clear of. The thing neither of you want to address because eventually this won’t be easy to do. Who knows how many miles could get out between you.

And it almost hurts you to admit yourself because… where exactly does that leave you both?

Does your contact end when you leave Italy? Do you become people who occasionally text on a bi-monthly basis?

He draws a breath, “So am I.”

You let out your own tortured sigh, turning to pop your glass on the beside table and then lean your head onto his shoulder.

Your heart jumps at the contact, and somewhere in your brain, sober Y/N lets out a gasp, because she would never have the balls to do that.

So the wine maybe was a great idea…?

He wraps an arm around your back, “I go back to London after this.”

“Second week of August as well?” You pray it’s not earlier than the start of the month, since tomorrow is literally the 1st.

“Yea, the 13th.” He nods and it’s the only tiny shred of relief you’re getting from all this. That there’s still time left.

“I fly out on the 12th.” You say quietly.

But there’s a small silence that consumes you both for the first time since you met. Because you’re kind of exasperated for options right now. What do you say to someone who is going to inevitably slip from your grip.

You shake your head at nothing in particular, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, since words really weren’t going to cut it.

Somewhere in his muddled brain he notes this is the second time you’ve ever initiated a hug. And he leans into it, the arm he had around your back tugging you infinitely closer.

Your cheek is pressed to his neck, and you swear you feel his lips ghosting over the top of your head.

Slowly, you pull back. And he watches you with sharp green eyes. You hold that gaze, until he’s the one that breaks it. Stifling a groan with his hand, covering his face.

You look at him quizzically.

“I like this more than I probably should.” He gestures now between the two of you.

You chuckle, a tiny flutter in your stomach announcing it’s presence.

“So we’re making the most of the time left in Italy, then?” You put forward, ready to nearly wipe your schedule clean for the man.

Which, who could blame you?

“What are y’doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing, if you’re the one asking.” You laugh, and he smiles wide at your comment.

“Oh, is that so darling?”

You roll your eyes in attempt to be convincing, “of course, you always buy me tea so…”

“Well, that decides we’re going to another cafe I suppose.” His hand reaches for his phone strewn on the quilt somewhere, pulling up google maps to find some nearby cafes.

You perch your head back onto his shoulder to watch him scroll through the options. He stumbles on a beautiful looking one, less than a 10 minute walk away. He looks to see if you approve.

He peers down to where you rest on his frame, smiling unwillingly at the sight of you. Your own eyes trailing up to meet his.

And he swears they linger on his lips. Just for a fraction of a second.

“Mh, what d’ya think.” He gets out, voice suddenly several octaves lower. Almost gravelly.

You almost audibly gulp at the sound of him. Hyperaware of his existence right now, you could nearly zone out thinking about the strength of his arm muscle that’s right now pressed against you.

“Yea… yea that looks amazing. And tomorrow, what time?” Your hands fiddle with themselves in your lap.

“How about 1, since you’re probably gonna wanna sleep in a bit.” He suggests, free hand pushing his curls from his eyes.

The way he knows you’re probably going to want to sleep in. God.

“I’m down.” (Bad)

A smile erupts over your face, and you almost forget that the clock is still ticking. That you only have so long left here.

Which ‘almost forgetting’ isn’t enough to stifle the urge to use it as some kind of yolo shit. Because that is unbelievably strong. Like why not just invite him to stay the night?

Maybe another glass of wine and you can gaslight yourself into cuddling him and just falling asleep. He wouldnt leave unless he had to, so it’s an almost flawless plan.

———

The plan infact, was flawless.

To say the least, he slept at yours. In your bed.

I mean you don’t really remember it, since you talked into the early hours of the morning and drank some more alcohol to really top it all off.

You woke up under the covers, still clutching onto Harrys side.

He was already awake, scrolling on his phone, seemingly unbothered by the fact your head had taken residency on his chest.

You take the initiative to glance at the time in the upper-right corner of his phone, a little shocked when it reads 11:47am.

You do groan at the morning light streaming in the windows immediately after seeing the time though.

“G’morning. D’ya have a headache?” He asks with what you can only assume is the end of his morning voice. Which although just a taste, is enough to send you spiralling.

It’s also around now you realise he’s stripped down into boxers— still clad in his white shirt. What the fuck!

You struggle to form a coherent response.

“Morning. A little.” Your voice comes out as a hum.

Somehow, considering you’re cuddling him right now and you literally just slept in the same bed all night, both of you outwardly are quite relaxed about it.

Nothing is awkward. It feels lovely.

“I want a croissant so bad.” You huff, sitting up, stomach growling like as if you hadn’t eaten in a whole 24 hours.

“So, you’re the kind of person that’s hungry immediately after they wake up?” He laughs, hand coming to push the locks of your bed hair out of your face.

Outside of the sheer domesticity of that (which makes you literally have heart palpitations), your hair is a proper train wreck.

The humidity in Italy has made it horrific.

“I guess I am right now?” You reply to his previous ask, combing your fingers through the locks.

“Jesus Christ.” You curse at its uncooperativeness.

“Y’know that episode of friends where Monica complains about how the humidity fucks her hair, she was so right.”

“I love friends.” He immediately gasps, nearly jolting upright in excitement.

You laugh at his enthusiastic reaction, noting that you have to somehow find time over the next week to watch an episode or two with him.

“And if it’s any consolation, I think your hair looks great.”

“Yea well, it’s not like you’d really be able to relate to the frizzy hair. Since yours look so perfect all the time.” You joke.

This evokes a genuine flush on his face, “Alright, Y/N, calm it down.”

He’s laughing but you swear he actually looks a little flustered. Without the wine as a confidence booster, he seemed like suddenly he didn’t know how to take a compliment.

Unbelievable to you since he probably gets that many a day from strangers on the street.

“I, am going to get up and get ready then, so we can go out and eat.” You state, excited to be seemingly spending the majority of the day with him.

He holds back the urge to beg you to stay in bed with him, and says something nonchalant as if he doesn’t mind you getting up. But when you pad off to the bathroom he stares at your now empty space. And immediately shivers at the lack of your body warmth, despite the already warm humid weather.

After a few trips in and out of the bathroom you come out looking beautiful. And he has to get himself up and ready to go in attempt to not overthink it.

You craved his closeness the whole time it took you to prepare for the day. Every few minutes you’d get this almost overpowering urge to just go out there and throw yourself back into his arms.

It’s borderline pathetic. But now you’ve had him in your bed, his strong arms coddled around you, it’s very hard to not to be just that. His physical presence is perfect and comforting. You’re attached to that as much as any other aspect of him.

He puts on his pants, which were folded neatly on his own bedside table, plucking out the car keys in his pocket, “Im gonna nick down to my rental car, because I have an extra button up in there, so I’ll wear that out.”

He comes back and changes into said white button up, stripping his worn shirt off and leaving it somewhere.

Just like that, you’re ready to go, and you both decide to walk the short way there. It was too nice a morning to not.

The whole walk you’re chatting away as usual. But it’s paired with this newfound physical aspect. The way you so obviously want to be close it hurts.

Yet somehow you both act like it’s nothing. That the brushes of hands and shoulder as you’re in step beside each other is a simple coincidence.

And that when you get breakfast, the two croissants and shared cookie is just a friendly thing. In your head you’re even playing off the touching all throughout breakfast.

Which sounds dirty— but just the little conversational touches. Like a hand reaching out to touch a forearm in laughter, acting as if it adds something important to the moment being shared.

Or that somehow when you leave the cafe, with two takeaway cups of tea, the hands that end up interlinked softly between the two of you is just…

Well… who even knows anymore?

Because you’re walking through italy beside Harry— who is talking about his favourite kind of playground equipment, regardless of if he’s a near thirty year old man— all while holding your hand.

And to take a moment, because it’s important, his hands are everything they’re talked up to be. Littered with chunky rings and calloused fingertips from the years of guitar playing. Yet contrasted by his soft palms, which cups yours with this delicateness it almost brings a tear to your eye.

You also pray that your own hand isn’t sweating profusely in his grasp, because you wouldn’t put a clammy hand past yourself. The already humid weather paired with your anxiety surrounding this whole situation is quite literally the match made in hell.

Nothing about this can be passed off as casual to your brain anymore. You’re literally about to implode.

But you strive to hide it. So you solider on.

“I’m a seesaw girl okay. Hear me out—“

“No, I can totally see that!” He interjects, and you chuckle at his quick agreement to your statement.

“Right? They are so much fun. And even though I nearly took a tooth out playing on one when I was 7, I can still recognise they are superior.”

To that he laughs and bumps his shoulder into yours, “I mean I love that. I’m probably a swing person, I feel like no matter the age I will always be down for it.”

You can agree that a swing is a solid second favourite for you. And as you talk about that point with him, you don’t realise you’ve walked the whole ‘scenic’ route back to your hotel until you turn the corner and the entrance is around the corner ahead. And the way you went usually takes an extra 20 minutes.

It went so fast.

“Are you gonna head off or… come back up with me?” You ask gingerly, the hand not interlaced with his fiddling with the fabric of your clothing.

“Not sick of m’yet?”

“Never…” You shake your head, smiling as he gleams at your answer.

“M’flattered. The feelings mutual love,” he chuckles, “However I do have to go remind my family I’m alive. But it’ll only take about a day until they’re pleased for me to ditch them.”

Gently runs his thumb over your knuckles, whether it be subconsciously or not, “So tomorrow night ill come back over to yours for dinner if you y’want?”

You smile, a little sappy over the way he’s working a plan out like you’re both teenagers, “Yea, thats perfect, and we can try something else off the menu.”

“Maybe, if you want,” he begins carefully, “after that you can come over to where we’re staying. Meet my mum and sister. They’ll love you.”

Now you’re nearly bursting at the seems, “Oh, I would love that, H!”

“Okay, it’s a plan then.” He agrees, pulling his keys from his pocket.

You bid your farewells for the night, unlinking hands and being left with a tingling sensation in it, one that you wonder if he’s also getting.

You go to your hotel room and feel full with joy.

He is all too sweet for this world. And you’re a little obsessed.

———

Although Italy being in Italy feels like being in a bubble, and like you’re so far away from the real world, it is unfortunately a purely mental one.

And there’s one thing about a headspace like that, and it’s just how quickly it can be popped.

At midnight that night a notification pops up on your phone, one that when you open, you have to physically put your phone down.

harryflorals:

what do i even caption this post because is that who i think it is or am i officially delusional? “HARRY WITH A FAN FROM THE LAST SHOW, HOLDING HANDS IN ITALY!” correct me if I’m wrong YALL idek anymore.

And this time, there’s no grain saving your ass. Because this was taken on what, quality wise, looks like a digital camera.

Which has made it so painstakingly obvious that it’s you. And you don’t even remember it being taken?

It was when you were walking back from the cafe, holding hands probably talking about fucking seesaws.

And everyone has caught on fast, because in the comments it’s an all out frenzy.

So, cats officially out of the bag.

———

y’all can expect a part four considering i lowkey left this on a cliffhanger 😝 so its on its way my loves

update: next part, PART 4!

taglist:

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles oneshot #hslot #love on tour #i just love finalshowrry #love u too #hopefully part four doesn’t take me also two weeks to write HAHA

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