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see you in a new light
When your friends chat up a group of handsome guys at the airport, who are heading to the very same holiday spot, you’re supposed to be in for a great vacation. But when a friend turned foe of your past joins them, heaven can very quickly turn into hell.
enemies to lovers story about biases, fun time in the sun and moving on
written for the @1dffchallenges summer challenge
coming soon (hopefully this month)
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home is a feeling
this is for @1dffchallenges summer challenge - go check out all the other participant’s wonderful stories!
my trope is high school sweethearts & i’ve twisted it a little so that it’s lovers to exes??? already exes but they were once lovers??? it’ll make more sense when you read it - as always, please reblog & give feedback !!!
word count: 5.2k
warnings: language, whole lotta dialogue & a whole lotta angst
- moodboard -
• • •
“Don’t turn around.”
Conjectures trickle through every crevice in your brain at the vague statement. Those three words can never mean anything good. What is it? Who is it?
Whatever or whomever it is, it’s making you anxious based on your friend’s wary expression across from you.
“Just tell me,” you demand flatly, becoming tense in the booth of the diner with a forkful of red velvet cake halfway to your mouth. “Tell me so I don’t have the urge to actually turn around.”
“Your ex,” she mutters. Never one to beat around the bush, to your appreciation. “He just walked in. Don’t kill me for saying this, but he looks really good.”
You kick her foot under the table and sink down in the leather seat. “Why is he here? He’s supposed to be in a completely different country.”
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THE END OF JUNE
A/N: Hello! Here’s my part for the 1DFF Summer Challenge that @1dffchallenges put together. Make sure to check out the other amazing pieces published by other authors. The trope I chose was love triangle and I wanted to do something different (?) kind of my take on it. I hope you enjoy it! Big thanks to @stylishmuser ♡
Trope: love triangle.
The universe is trying to kill me, Harry thinks.
Just when he was trying to be a good fiancé—the word still makes him cringe. Harry finds himself not paying attention to his girl’s football game, his interest in it was lost the moment a small noisy group chose to settle themselves below where he was in the seating area. Their loud cheering was all Harry could and wanted to hear for the rest of the match.
He tried to look away, really forced himself a couple of times to focus on anything else, but his gaze was almost immediately trained back to the back of a familiar and yet unknown mane of blonde hair. Harry could try all he wanted to look away then, he knew there was no use, not when little flashbacks of what happened one summer, many moons ago, kept assaulting him.
It’s a small memory, nothing too serious to warrant a constant rethinking, but that night he falls asleep and dreams of it —dreams of it with so much vividness that when he wakes up, startling back into consciousness in the bedroom he shares with his girlfriend Amara, he can still see the hooded dark eyes looking up at him, can see his own shaky hand pushing back those locks before leaning in.
It takes a while for the dream to fade, and it’s Amara, always Amara, that Harry registers first; Amara’s spooning him, arms around Harry, and Harry can feel her even breathing tickling the back of his neck. It’s calming somehow, and if he really focuses for a moment, he will be able to hear Amara’s heartbeat. And he waits for the rest of the dream to leave like that, except it doesn’t, instead it shows him the same scenario as before but this time Amara hugs him from behind, her eyes closed and she’s begging him to stop pining for the guy before them.
◇
“Did you have a bad dream last night?”
This is Amara’s uniqueness, her ability to notice things even when it should be impossible for her, and then start a conversation that will make Harry almost trip over the mat outside their bath. Lucky for them, Harry’s able to stop the fall with a hand against the wall before instantly turning to Amara, already dressed and styling her hair.
“Well, not really—it was just a dream?”
Their morning routine is one of his favourite things. Amara would jostle Harry awake and next there would be a flurry of sheets and mumbles and toilets flushing, but it feels as if today’s conversation doesn’t fit anywhere and there is a sudden stillness when he perches himself on top of a kitchen island stool, taking in every detail of the kitchen —their kitchen—and marvelling at the fact that something so simple and wonderful like his mornings with Amara could be his.
It’s been enough months, but his eyes still catch on her ring.
It’s been more than enough months, where he hasn’t felt any different than to see it there, and know exactly what promises it bears for their future, suddenly what used to be a nice feeling in Harry’s chest—ballooning in his lungs at seven in the morning, the way it feels when he gets to the high notes in Sign of the times where the music swells and he gets to unleash his vocal chords’ full potential like an eagle spreads its wings ready to fly and just feel, just be. Now feels like he has a boa squeezing all the air out of him along with his life, that’s what being with Amara after dreaming about his old lover last night feels like. Pressure, none of his emotions in control, all of them cold.
The sunlight pouring into the kitchen, the breeze ruffling his curls. It doesn’t seem real, but it feels, more than anything, like acting in a movie.
But it is real, and that is the part where Harry stumbles on—on the fact that all of this is true, within reach, whether the ring is there or not—the fact that he has been sharing his life with Amara is real.
Little things like this—like Amara’s hand brushing Harry’s hair back, like Amara’s hand tracing her fingers on his neck until it tickles—those things take Harry’s breath away when they happen. They’re shocking reminders of how real all of this is, and how deeply and intensely he feels about her, and sometimes when he’s reminded of the things he does have, all he can do is stare.
He’s doing it now, but Amara, always is staring back with equal fondness.
“Just a dream as in a bad one or a good one?” she inquires.
“I did dream, but it wasn’t bad…”
Amara blinks. “Oh? Was it a naughty—”
Harry rolls his eyes. “Not that, either. Just a memory, that’s all.”
“A pleasant one?”
“I guess…”
The coffee maker beeps then, and Harry flounders—I guess what?
The longer he sits there, the faster the dream seems to be growing fainter, only the edges of the memory softening how it had felt to dream something from so long ago. It’s not that Harry doesn’t want to get married next year at the end of June, but it just seems to fade in comparison to the memory of how years ago, he would get a kiss every morning along with a mug of tea instead of coffee.
There must be a story somewhere, Amara knows, about people her fiancé had not let go entirely. Or maybe he had and it was just a memory. She doesn’t want to feel like he’s keeping the truth from her, so without asking more questions, she leaves for work and leaves a quick peck on his cheek.
Reality completely falls on Harry’s shoulders the moment Amara’s out the door and he’s finally able to accept that last night his heart found his way to his throat, at the sight of whom he used to share his mornings with, all those years ago.
Harry sighs completely defeated, when it comes to Manjiro, love has really always been the most fitting word.
◇
Weddings aren’t supposed to be this easy.
It’s never, ever, by any means, a one-man or two-man affair; they’re both lucky to have a supportive circle of people more than happy to butt heads with everyone else about every single detail. But the exhaustive planning and petty arguments about the wedding’s coordination never come.
At first Amara thought that because Harry was someone that has spent his career finding the balance, good compromise, between what could only be called a perfectly choreographed schedule and heart, it was an easy task. There were people to call, suits and dresses to fit, neckties to ask Harry about. There were invitations and RSVPs and confirmation e-mails to be read and responded to.
Amara was honestly longing for it, the planning, the waiting, the itch that none of them couldn’t seem to scratch away, the urgency for it all to be over. It never came.
Mostly, if she’s honest, it’s just frustrating that Harry was able to take all that work and do it; it’s rare in life for her to feel uncertain in certainty, for her to second-guess every little flawless action Harry did for the wedding. Amara feels that no matter which angle she examines all this from, no matter how many times she changes her mind on the flowers and the cake, he will find a way to do it splendidly. It makes her blood boil, because she knows that something is wrong but she can’t know exactly what it is, not when Harry looks so certain about anything.
But she's completely wrong about his certainty.
“Harry?”
Harry blinks, thinks for a second that he’s imagined that voice. But when he turns to look over his shoulder, blinking a few more times just to be sure that his eyes are not deceiving him, to a very grown up Manjiro standing in the doorway of his favourite bakery.
“What brings you to this side of town?”
“I—” Harry hums, putting his wallet back in his pocket. “Just getting some fresh baked goodies for tomorrow’s breakfast. And thinking.”
“I see,” Manjiro says softly, he opens the door and motions his head to the street, an invitation. One that Harry has yet to refuse. "Is it about your wedding?”
“How do you know about that?” Harry retorts, but all he gets is Manjiro’s playful eye roll that takes him back to that summer when he was nineteen and so madly in love, so he lets it go. “Kind of?” He admits.
“Having second thoughts?” The shorter man fails to disguise the teasing from his tone.
“Yes and no.” Harry says, even as Manjiro smiles, chuckles a little as he pulls Harry to cross the street. “But I think she’s having second thoughts as well. About me.”
“Oh I don’t blame her for that.” Manjiro tilts his head up in a way that allows him to look at Harry from under his lashes, like he’s searching for something. It takes Harry back to the first time they kissed, so he looks away a bit flushed.
Sometimes, too, Manjiro felt flushed upon doing things he reserved for Harry and Harry alone. The first time he cooked dinner for someone that was not Harry was a disaster, that person saw him in tears before taking the first bite. After breaking up with Harry, he swore that the spark from his heart was gone, at times it felt like something unlatched from his chest and he couldn’t breathe properly. And no place in this world could ever be Harry-free, he knew after seeing his gorgeous face on a Shanghai banner announcing him as a part of a famous lingerie fashion show. Once Manjiro came to terms with him being the only one to blame for the situation he was in, he was finally able to move on. Little by little, harder than anything he’s ever done before, but able to do it at last.
Which is why upon hearing Harry’s doubts about his upcoming marriage, did not give him any wrong ideas.
“Is it the song for the first dance?” Manjiro says, as they find themselves in Bushy Park. “Is that what’s worrying you?”
Harry shakes his head in denial, marvelling on how easy it is to discuss this with him. “Not the song choice, no.”
“Then?”
“Mikey,” Harry lets the old nickname slip away. He allows himself the hesitation, even if he doesn’t quite feel like he crossed any boundaries as he would have another time. “It just bothers me, how easy it is.”
Manjiro hums, blinking wide and confused and pretty and affectionate.
“We agree on everything, then she decides to change everything about it and I agree. Then she changes it again and I agree and sort it out.” Harry says, slowly. It isn’t something that bothers him, it’s the fact that it doesn’t bother him, what he thinks is off. “And I didn’t even care.”
“Ah.”
It’s Manjiro’s thoughtful ah, his cute giggle that follows it, one of the few things he still reserved for Harry, always just reserved for the things they seem to understand about each other without voicing, the things they seem to understand through touch and eye contact and smiles.
It’s overwhelming to know someone like that. Harry has had all sort of physical intimacy with other people before, but the way Manjiro seems to get what Harry’s thinking, even if not precisely nor completely, but enough to just latch onto that thought process and know that they fit together smoothly in this, to be so knowable and vulnerable and yet not to be engaged to that person. It’s a thing Harry gets mad about, it bothers him, more than the stupid napkin colour matching the table cloth, this is important because it sets his heart on fire and makes him fall in love again.
“Then I suppose you shouldn’t have a complicated wedding,” Manjiro says, twirling like a ballerina around Harry without warning. It startles another disbelieving laugh out of the latter, and the corners of Manjiro’s mouth tug up as well. “Have a small one, or have many, one every year until you’ve forgotten about the ones you didn’t care enough about, because you will have more of those moments to remember.”
“But this one will matter to her,” Harry says quietly. “The date is set to be on the night that we—that we—”
“Fell in love?” Manjiro finishes for him. “You know how I feel about love and all that nonsense. But I’m sure it certainly wasn’t the only time you fell in love with each other, nor the last.”
I did too, you know, Manjiro wants to say. I fell in love with you every morning. I fell in love when you woke up in the middle of the night and left the hallway lights on. I fell in love when you respected my decision to leave. I fell in love over and over and over again.
“Even now, you can still find things about her to fall all over again,” Manjiro continues, as softly as Harry had spoken earlier, clearly not meant to be spoken out loud. “Like this.”
This could mean anything. Could mean the second thoughts, could mean the rays of the moonlight, could mean the quiet of this park that Manjiro seems to be familiar with. Harry doesn’t know how to fall in love again with Amara, not when someone he thought he’d never see again is walking by his side, completely unfazed by their meeting.
Harry would like to call it fate, a happy coincidence written in the stars. But it seems that his Mikey hasn’t changed enough to believe in all that nonsense. Just before he got sad and gloomy, the thought of Amara flashed, she would be the one to call this type of situation a sign of the universe. Amara would even mock him a bit more and say it's a sign of the times, innit? And just like that Harry smiles.
“Thank you,” Harry murmurs after they reach the end of Hampton Court road. “I’ll take a cab from here.”
Manjiro’s quiet for a while.
“Thank you, Harry-kun,” he returns eventually. “Matane.”
It’s a reminder that Manjiro doesn’t like to say goodbye, not to Harry at least. He had thought about this, and it was a decision he made.
Separate lives chosen, love fallen into and out of.
“I love you.” Forever sentimental Harry can’t help but say, because he didn’t have a chance before, because he was waiting for the perfect moment, and because he was old enough now to bare his soul to the one that he loved before anyone else.
Harry blinks. Manjiro blinks.
And then they’re both smiling, and then there’s that sweet smile with his eyes closed that Mikey has saved all these years for this moment, and all Harry can think is that if he had to wish on a star now, if he had to wish for anything, anything at all, it will be this summer night, this pair of dark eyes staring right back at me, this, this.
Manjiro looks at Harry. He thinks; I love you.
◇
It’s a starry night, at the end of June in Holmes Chapel when their dream wedding happens.
A sky that Harry has grown up under, a sky that seems to stretch out above them as Harry repeats vows he’d already said in his head, agreed to fulfill promises he knew he wanted for their future, will want over and over for the rest of his days. A sky that has watched him fall in love with a gentle but cruel beautiful boy in the past, a sky that will watch how he falls in love over and over again with a strong and merciful woman.
A part of him does feel nineteen again, looking up, surrounded by new friends this time, by family, watching him get married.
Watching stars is far more infinite than the time he’ll ever spend thinking about the missing people tonight. Watching stars so ancient that could very well be the same ones he’d wished on when he was a broken hearted twenty-two year old. And stars so ancient that they’re also probably not at all the same. A lot of possibilities, a lot of things lost, but that’s fine with Harry. He has moved on.
Getting married in the hometown he loved this much, to the woman that has made him feel what it’s like to love and be loved so earnestly and so constantly and so real. This is all the certainty he needs.
Being with Manjiro and Amara feels like those evenings of star-gazing, if Harry really thought about it, that stillness, hand outstretched towards the stars. That feeling of being privy to that infinity, to something far larger than him. The only difference is that while Mikey made him feel small, Amara doesn’t, not like that. He feels secure, feels grounded, like he could close his eyes and it wouldn’t matter how far the stars are.
Pure contentment, sitting right at home in his chest every time he looks at her.
Just warmth, like a summer breeze.
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Title: My Wolf
Author: @ihearthes
Pairing: Harry x Unnamed OFC
Rating: Lots of smut and a little fluff
Word Count: 5565
Inspired by: @1dffchallenges for the 1dff Summer Challenge
Sometimes best friends CAN become something more…
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hey there! can I get trope 15 and line 15 for the summer fic challenge? xx
added you!
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Hello! Can I have trope 14 & opening line 3 for the summer fic challenge please?
all yours!
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WHAT IS IT
a fun summer challenge in which authors must write a standalone oneshot or mini fic revolving around “summer” and both a trope and opening line from the list below the cut. it can be set over one summer, multiple summers, one day, one weekend—whatever suits you!
HOW IT WORKS
check out the tropes below the cut and send me your desired trope and opening line. i will then add your url against them to show you’ve claimed them
there is no specific due date! ideally, they should be posted by the end of summer for the full vibe, but feel free to post the challenge whenever you’re done
when posting the challenge, please tag this blog and use the hashtag #1dffsummerchallenge to ensure it will be reblogged. if it isn’t reblogged within two days, please contact me as i may have missed it due to tumblr’s sucky tagging system
if you would like to post a preview for your challenge or start an inspiration tag or whatever else you wanna do to excite your readers, go ahead! it doesn’t have to be anonymous as it has been in previous challenges
IMPORTANT NOTES
as this is a “1dff” challenge, this means it must include at least one member of one direction
if you are unable to complete your challenge, that is okay! just let me know and i can remove your name from the trope and opening line to open them up for someone else
all challenges should be at least a minimum of 1000 words
both ofc and y/n fics are welcome
you can write fluff, smut, angst, or whatever else you would like. just make sure you use appropriate warnings!
if you have completed your challenge and think you can complete another in time, then feel free to request another!
GOOD LUCK!
TROPES
enemies to lovers ( @calm-and-wine )
best friends to lovers ( @ihearthes )
childhood friends ( @adoremp3 )
highschool sweethearts ( @adore-laur )
friends with benefits ( @sunflwrvolume6 )
fake dating ( @hsogolden )
secretly dating ( @yourpolaroid07 )
workplace romance ( @tinyfelthat )
second chance love ( @niallgolden )
runaway bride/groom
best friends brother/sister ( @thefangirlingbarista )
love at first sight
one night stand
love triangle ( @bumbershots )
roommates ( @burberryharold )
OPENING LINES
“I don’t know how it gets better than this.” ( @yourpolaroid07 )
There is nothing more enchanting than watching it snow.
The universe is trying to kill me. ( @bumbershots )
Sometimes, I really wonder how I end up in these situations. ( @calm-and-wine )
“Don’t turn around.”
“I was really hoping it wouldn’t come down to this.” ( @hsogolden )
She was the cause of her own demise.
“Give me a day and I could list all the reasons why that would never work” ( @tinyfelthat )
She opened up the letter with trembling hands. ( @niallgolden )
Sweat coated his forehead as he felt the sand between his toes. ( @thefangirlingbarista )
Dehydration was definitely on the horizon. ( @sunflwrvolume6 )
Some of the best memories are made with a cocktail in your hand. ( @ihearthes )
Nothing will ever beat a classic summer barbecue. ( @adore-laur )
“Sunshine is the best medicine.” ( @adoremp3 )
The beach is my happy place. ( @burberryharold )
note: you are welcome to change your opening line around to fit your style of writing and your challenge itself. this includes changing the person (i.e. first, second or third person), tense (i.e. past tense vs present tense), changing pronouns, changing pronouns to a name, or switching it from dialogue to description or vice versa. as long as the basis of it is the very first line of the challenge, then it’s ok!
for example,
I’ve decided you’re the only one I can trust. —> He decides I am the only one he can trust.
“No matter how much I love you, you are an inadequate substitute for coffee.” —> No matter how much I loved Niall, he was an inadequate substitute for coffee.
#1dff#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x ofc#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles smut#harry styles#niall horan#niall horan fanfiction#niall horan oneshot#niall horan x reader#niall horan x ofc#one direction#one direction fanfiction#1dffsummerchallenge
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keep your eyes open for an announcement tomorrow (assuming i get my shit together tonight) ☀️💛
so. anyone in the mood for a new challenge?
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as preparations are underway for the next challenge, i would love everyone to share their ideas for future challenges or any other suggestions on how to run these challenges! all ideas and suggestions are welcome 💛
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as preparations are underway for the next challenge, i would love everyone to share their ideas for future challenges or any other suggestions on how to run these challenges! all ideas and suggestions are welcome 💛
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hiii! this is a part of @1dffchallenges’s valentine’s day challenge 💘 this is a concept ive been thinking about writing for a very long time and i hope you enjoy reading it just as much as i enjoyed writing! i’d love to hear your thoughts and hope you all have a very happy valentine’s day 💘
word count: 2.2k
warnings: mature sexual content
challenge prompt and dialogue: late for a date and “I think you’ll be happy to know that I’m not wearing any underwear.”
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WHAT IS IT
a quick last minute challenge in which authors must write a standalone oneshot revolving around valentine’s day and both a prompt and line of dialogue from the list below the cut
MORE INFO ON THE CHALLENGE HERE
lovefool by @bumbershots
prompt: blind date set up by friends // dialogue: “I don’t want this to end…”
mean it by @sweetlygolden
prompt: one forgets it’s valentine’s day, one goes over the top // dialogue: “Just shut up and kiss me.”
unexpected by @prismdreams
prompt: first attempt at speed dating // dialogue: “Yes, I got your letter.”
confessions by @prismdreams
prompt: a sexy surprise // dialogue: “I fucked up, alright? I’m sorry.”
a not so lonely valentine’s by @burberryharold
prompt: strangers alone on valentine’s day // dialogue: “I’m allergic to chocolate. And roses.”
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LOVEFOOL
Author’s note: HELLO! This is my part for the Valentine’s Day challenge that @1dffchallenges put together. Make sure to keep an eye out for any other pieces published by other authors. Enjoy! And happy Valentine’s weekend! (:
Summary: Harry agrees to go on a blind date set up by his friends in hopes that it will help him move on from an unrequited love.
Word count: 3K
Challenge prompt and dialogue: blind date set up by friends. “I don’t want this to end…”
There’s a first for everything. Harry’s had his fair share of them at the age of twenty-seven. First time on an aeroplane at the tender age of six for a family holiday in Rome. First kiss on his home town’s park with someone he deeply cared about. First time in a recording studio. First time going on tour. The first night spent alone in his new and barely furnished home. The first morning he laid eyes on the girl next door. The ugly heartbreak after she got married, certainly felt worse than his first one.
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