eatsleepbreathefutbol

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Am I not that important?

You and Dele had been in an on and off relationship for at least three years. Every time you were off you noticed Dele always had one specific girl he would "rebound" with.

You found out about her a couple months ago, and you didn't let it bother you since you guys are technically not together when he "rebounds" with her. But the weird thing is he still texts with her while you guys are together.

Dele, you and your group of mutual friends went out because it had been a while since you guys went out. You and the girls were talking about how you guys wanted to get drunk like the good ole days. You were several tequila and Red Bulls in, so you were vibing with the music. You and the girls were on the dance floor because they had started playing Kiss Me Thru The Phone by Soulja Boy, but you were wanting to be with Dele but the guys were still in the vip area sitting on the sofa just vibing. You looked over to the group and Dele is looking down at his phone.

This immediately made you mad because he's probably texting that bitch again. So you went to the bar to get another drink to ignore the fact that it might be a possibility.

Dele looked up from the phone to see you ordering another drink, so he made a beeline to you...he stood behind you with his arms around your waist. You wanted to enjoy the moment but you being drunk and mad you pushed his hands off of you, walked away when the bartender gave you your drink. Dele followed you to where your friends were, and was trying to dance with you but you got frustrated and went back to the VIP area to sit.

Of course Dele followed you back, and you just frustratingly tell him to leave you alone. Dele is annoyed, and whispers into your ear "Babe what the hell? What did I do to you? I'm here trying to have fun with you but you keep brushing me off and I am starting to get annoyed". You got up to walk away but Dele grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the bathroom.

Dele locked the door to the bathroom, "tell me what the fuck the problem is, because all I have done has been trying to be with you". You basically inhaled the rest of your drink before you start speaking, "well Dele I know you keep texting that bitch Lucy while we're in a relationship but I thought she was only a bitch you rebound with. Like I was dancing with the girls and when I try to look for you, I see you looking at your phone instead of having fun! If you're going to fucking go out to be on your phone the majority of the time what the hell is the point of going out if you're not going to have fun with your freaking friends!" Dele rolled his eyes, you grabbed his face, "I swear if you roll your eyes at me and tell me I'm crazy, I swear I will walk out of here" Dele slapped your hand away from his face.

Dele was frustrated at this point "you're too drunk let's go home, we better not cause a scene cause I don't want the paps to have something to write about". You started fuming at this point, "oh so you care more about what the public thinks than what I think, you're so fucking selfish because last time I checked you were in a relationship with me and having issues with me and not the stupid paps or fans. Like I am confused about how me being drunk has anything to do with this, I came out to have fun and not see my boyfriend text his side piece while dating me and telling me that he loves me." Dele tries to walk out the door, but you stopped him "y/n literally let me out of the bathroom because I don't want to argue" "really Dele you don't want to argue, well admit that you're not fully committed to this relationship and that you keep texting that bitch Lucy" If looks could kill you would be dead with the stare Dele was giving you, "I don't know why I have to admit to something I am not even fucking doing y/n!" Your eyes start tearing up, and you start walking out the bathroom.

You did a beeline to the bartender for another drink, this time halfway there Dele stood in front of you "babe it's time to go home, you don't need more to drink. Let's get you home" you push past him and go to the bar flagging the bartender down and ordering a double tequila. Dele rolled his eyes and went to sit down with the boys, after you take your shot you go back to the vip area.

You grab your purse, phone and keys to go back home as you're walking out of the area you feel Dele put his arm around your waist to try and help you to the car. You push his hand off "I'm going to take a cab home, and I'll be sleeping in the guest room", Dele at this point is annoyed "no I came here with you so I am leaving with you and you do whatever you want when we get home but in the morning we are talking" you're drunk self starts pouting and start speed walking to the entrance, while forgetting that Dele was sober so he easily caught up to you.

Dele told the valet to bring the car before you could flag a cab down, he's holding your hand with a firm grip and in the other one he's texting the guys a goodbye since he didn't get to properly do so since he was chasing you down. The car came around and Dele went to the passenger door to open it, but you got into the backseat and you laid down trying to take a nap.

On the drive home Dele is asking if you want to hear a specific song, you request Sobrio by Maluma. It's your favorite song about a breakup, as you're feeling this song you say without hesitating "Am I not that important to you? Like if you love me why do you still talk to her. Because I feel disrespected with the fact that you still talk to her, like if I were to have a rebound that I still talked to, you would flip out and be acting worse than me." Dele sighs frustratingly, "y/n can we drop this, I texted her asking her about something that she went through just to check up on her and I haven't spoken to her since...that was like a month ago" you're looking at Dele's figure, and you feel a tear slip down "but still why do you care about what she's doing or what she's going through if she's not your girlfriend or the 'love of your life' like if she's a side piece it shouldn't matter to you because she shouldn't be that important". You guys get to a red light, and Dele looks at you and looks worried because of the tears in your eyes.

He reaches out to grab your hand to caress it and you reluctantly let him grab it, and you close your eyes to try to soak in the moment before your drunk ass ruins the mood again. The minute the car pulls into the driveway you get out of the car immediately a beeline to the bathroom to throw up from all the liquor, Dele follows behind you to hold your hair and rub your back. As you finish you sit next to him and put your head on his shoulder "God I need to not drink that much ever again, so next time to piss me off Dels" Dele starts to chuckle a little awkwardly "can we move past this like babe I blocked her number and won't talk to her again because I now understand how much it bothers you". You get up to brush your teeth and wash the make up off, when you're done you go to the closet to change into Dele's shirt and then you get into bed.

Dele tries to cuddle and you look up at him then grab his face and kiss him while caressing his neck. You then put your head on his chest, and you close your eyes "I'm sorry for accusing you of not loving me or caring about me babe" you whispered. Dele kissed your forehead and turned the lights off "it's fine we all have a drunk moment, and Im sorry for not understanding you...also for thinking it was ok to talk to her without telling you or thinking about how you'd feel". You both went to sleep at peace knowing that you guys weren't mad at each other anymore.

I hope you guys like it :)

#dele alli imagines #dele alli imagine #football imagines #football imagine #futbol imagines #futbol imagine #soccer imagines #soccer imagine #dele alli

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

I need someone different.

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

booben dias x

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

It’s my baby daddy’s birthday today! Happy 25th birthday to this guy! I hope you have a great day (even though I know he’s not going to read it)

#christian pulisic #happy birthday #ac milan #baby daddy’s birthday #baby daddy

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

CHRISTIAN PULISIC - AC Milan vs Torino FC - Stadio Giuseppe Meazz, Milan - August 26, 2023

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

Hey Guys! So my inbox is opened...I was planning on writing for the next day or two! I recently got into a car accident so I have written some pieces since yesterday that I will finish writing and posting them! If you want to request any pieces send them to my inbox! And don't forget that if you want to request a specific player you can do so on my google form!

I am excited for you guys to read the pieces I'll be posting later :)

#i am back #writing new pieces #football imagines #futbol imagines #soccer imagines #football imagine #futbol imagine #soccer imagine

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

Can you do a Christian imagine where his BEREAL goes off during sex his teammates and friends react?

Recently you were being a little annoyed with Christian because he would constantly be on his phone and would post a BeReal every time he would get a notification from the app.

So on this particular night you guys had just came back from going out with the guys and their partners. You in particular get horny when drinking comes into play, and Christian was hornier than you were.

Christian had gotten a notification from BeReal saying it was time for his daily post. Chris had forgotten he had left his BeReal App opened and the phone positioned at an angle without noticing.

All you were trying to do was to get it on with your man. At least five minutes in the deed you see like a flash go off and you didn't mind at all because you both were having the time of your life.

The next thing you know is that Christian is getting a call from Mason, and of course he ignores it. It wasn't until several of his other teammates were calling him that you guys started getting suspicious that something had to be wrong.

Chris answers one of the many calls and it was from Fikayo. Chris is trying to keep his cool, "Hey Fikayo, whats up?" You can hear Fikayo on the other side of the line laughing. "Nothing man its just woah you're BeReal seems to be a little explicit today, don't you think?" Chris asking very innocently "What do you mean explicit? I haven't posted a BeReal--" Christ couldn't finish his sentence before you cut him off.

"Christian Mate Pulisic you hang that phone call up right now before you make more of a fool of us". Acting confused he hung up the phone call, "Can you tell me what is going on Y/N?" You start biting your nails, "Well you see I think you did post a BeReal because while we were doing it I saw a flash go off" You bury your head as you're saying the last part of your sentence.

Christian started blushing, went on the app and realized one of the BeReal pictures was of you guys butt naked, and of course without hesitation Christian deleted it.

Then went to practice the next day like nothing happened. Told the teammates to never speak of it again because it was an accident!

Hey Betsy! I'm sorry this took a while for me to post! I have been bad with keeping up! But I hope you enjoy this piece!

#football imagines #football imagine #futbol imagines #futbol imagine #soccer imagines #soccer imagine #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic imagines #ac milan imagines #ac milan imagine

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

Wedding Night (Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader)

WC: 1.3K

Warnings: cursing

A/N: don't be fooled by the title cuz it has no smut 🤭 this is pure fluff! and again this was not proofread lol. hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

-

You and Christian just tied the knot, and now the celebration has come to end. The clock showed 12 AM, which means it was time for the bride and groom to leave the dance floor and move to the bridal suite.

As you two left the venue, everyone kept saying “have fun” as they assumed you were about to do the “wedding night” tradition – but tonight, it was not the case.

You had been awake since 4 AM and occupied since – getting your makeup and hair done, putting your wedding dress on then changing it to another dress for the reception and afterparty, doing photo sessions, you name it – so at the end of the biggest and best day of your life, you couldn’t help but feel exhausted. You were at your happiest, of course, but you still needed rest. Christian understood this, therefore he was more than okay to go straight to bed and sleep.

“Baby, it doesn’t have to be tonight… Because we don’t have to celebrate our first night as a married couple with sex. If you’re tired, then we can just go to sleep.”

You were in awe of how understanding your husband is. That’s one of the billion reasons why you were one hundred percent sure you wanted to marry him. 

“Plus… You know you can do me whenever you want to, right?” He winked and gave you a cheeky smile.

—

When the elevator doors opened, he lifted you up and carried you "bridal style" to your room. You laughed the entire time and he was laughing along with you – too hard he almost dropped you a few times. You opened the door and as you both entered your room – still carried by Christian – your head accidentally hit the door jamb.

“Ouch!” You slightly yelled as you immediately touched your head.

“Oh fuck, baby, I’m sorry!” He apologized and kissed your head.

He then asked in genuine concern. “Does that really hurt?”

“I’m okay love, it was just a reflex.” You assured him.

Relieved, he closed the door with his foot and playfully tossed you into the bed. He then jumped into the bed and laid down next to you, still laughing with each other. Not long after, his lips found their way into yours. Your eyes were closed, feeling his soft lips gently moving against yours and it got you nearly breathless – it was filled with passion and affection. When your lips parted, you saw him looking deeply into your eyes with a smile on his face – admiring how beautiful his forever bride is. Him staring so deep made you blushing and all giddy, you had to ask him to stop.

“Honey… Stop it!” You blurted as you playfully pushed his face away.

“What, am I not allowed to adore my wife now?” He teased you.

When he said that, you had literal chills. At the moment, the fact that you both are married still felt surreal. Oh my God… I’m Christian’s wife!

“Wait, baby, say that again!” You excitedly tried to make him say “my wife” again.

“What, am I not-”

“Not the whole thing, dummy.” You jokingly cut him off. “I meant the last part.”

“Umm… ‘Now’?” He pretended to be clueless just to mess with you.

“Good lord.” You rolled your eyes.

He laughed then gave you a little peck on the lips.

“I love you, my wife.”

—

You were still in your wedding dress and lazily got off the bed to change. Not only that, the makeup on your face felt pretty heavy and you thought there were too many bobby pins on your head – you just couldn’t wait to take them off. 

He helped you take off your wedding dress then get you your comfy pajamas. He also grabbed the makeup remover and a pack of facial cottons from your bag and put them above the counter in the bathroom like you asked him to. You were whining about having to remove your makeup and take off millions of bobby pins of your hair when all you wanted was just to finally rest.

He heard you from the other room and thought it was really cute. He couldn’t stop laughing at your whining while he changed his clothes. He then tried to make fun of you.

“Oh, is my poor baby having a rough moment now? There’s people that are dying, Y/N.” He said sarcastically.

You laughed at his comment, you got the reference he used.

“Hey, how dare you! Don’t be such a Kourtney!” You playfully shouted in response.

—

Now also in his pajamas, Christian went to the bathroom to help you. When he came in, you were just done cleaning your face and about to move onto your hair. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, kissed your cheeks, and rested his chin on one of your shoulders.

“Wow, how lucky am I that I get to spend my life with the most beautiful person on earth?” He softly said into your ears.

“Oh, stop it…” You blushed.

Since the first time you two know each other, he loves to shower you with compliments. You thought it would only last at the beginning, but overtime you learned that it is one of his most prominent ways of showing his love. No one has ever complimented you the way Christian does, therefore at first you came off a little awkward as you didn’t really know how to handle compliments. But now you've gotten used to it and he has never failed to make you blush every time.

He then offered to help you remove the bobby pins off your hair, and since there were a lot of them, you happily accepted his help. He thought you were exaggerating about how many bobby pins on your hair, but when he saw them closely he was genuinely surprised.

“Holy shit! This is a lot! How could you feel comfortable having these on your head all day? Geez, I could never!” He shook his head.

“Who said I was comfortable?” You chuckled.

He carefully removed the pins one by one. A few times you flinched and when he saw that, he stopped for a bit to make sure you were okay.

“Oops, sorry, did I hurt you Y/N?”

“That’s okay baby, it was just a little pull.” You assured him.

After a while, you both finally took all the pins off your hair, and you sighed in relief. But even though you had removed those, your hair still felt kind of stiff because of the hairspray used. Afterwards, you decided to take a long shower.

—

When you came out of the bathroom, you saw Christian just finished making the bed. Your heart completely melted by his gesture. You knew it was a bare minimum but you always appreciate everything he does for you no matter how little or huge it is – and vice versa.

You came up to him and gave him a passionate kiss. After you broke the kiss, he was stunned for a second and bit his lip.

“Hey… what was that for?” He asked.

“To thank you for helping me clean up. And make the bed. And because I'm truly grateful I married the most wonderful man in the world.” You said before you leaned in for another kiss.

“And I you.” He said softly with a big smile on his face.

As you gazed into each other’s eyes, a yawn spontaneously left your mouth. Your eyes started to feel very heavy and you didn’t think you could hold them open for too long. He noticed how sleepy you were, therefore he put you to bed.

“Too bad I can’t even stay up to open the gifts, huh?” You murmured.

“Don’t worry baby, first thing in the morning.” He replied.

You and Christian were spooning under the cover. Before he slept. he gently kissed your shoulder, your cheek, your ear and the top of your head. You couldn’t help but giggled, and he followed. Then he whispered into your ear.

“Goodnight, my wife.”

“Goodnight, my husband.”

That night, both of you went to sleep beaming as the new Mr. and Mrs. Pulisic.

-

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

Goodbye, Summer (Christian Pulisic x Reader)

Song Inspo: Summer Love - One Direction (listening to the song while reading is highly recommended!)

WC: 2.7K

Warnings: cursing, angst

A/N: after a few months i finally finished this fic!!! this is my first christian angst it felt kinda strange to write one for him lol and just so y'all know i haven't been able to write angst with a happy ending so, be aware. and the start of the ‘summer love’ is a lot different than usual hopefully not too weird for your liking tho. also this wasn't proofread, sorry if this turns out to be shit. anw hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any grammatical errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

–

“Cause you were mine for the summer

Now we know it's nearly over

Feels like snow in September

But I always will remember”

—

Summer has come to an end. Well, technically summer hasn’t ended yet – but Christian had to move to Italy and this move wasn’t exactly planned but quite expected – so yeah, to me, summer is about to end. And the moment Christian hops on the plane, there goes my summer of love. It was fun while it lasted – though I wish it would never end.

Christian told me he was leaving just a few days prior. He had been back to the States two days after the end of the Premier League season and ever since we had been spending the summer together. I knew this was coming as we agreed we would only be together for the summer but I didn’t think it would be this hard.

—

I met him through a mutual friend last year when he was briefly in Florida to visit his family and friends for Christmas. I still had a boyfriend at the time – even though my relationship ended the very next day, it was already broken to begin with – so we became strictly friends and I had no intentions on dating him. Jokes on me, because I had caught feelings for him but I was so wounded by the heartbreak I wasn’t even aware of it. He did catch feelings too, though he thought I needed time to process the breakup so confessing his feelings wouldn’t be appropriate.

I didn’t want a serious relationship for a while – or so I thought – therefore I didn’t even think of dating since my last one. Christian and I would sometimes text each other, but it wasn’t a constant thing. We hadn’t really seen each other in person since because of the distance, but I watched every match he played and usually texted him to give my support before the match.

One night within the second week of May, he told me by text that he was going back to Florida for summer break and looking forward to spending the rest of the summer with me. I thought to myself: why would he spend his short break with me? I responded to him by asking why just me and not his friends and family, hoping he would say something funny and odd like he always does and instead he said something I didn’t see coming.

“Because I like you and I want to be with you.”

My heart stopped the second I saw that text. Christian… Likes me? My goodness, what an oblivious idiot I had been. I was deeply wounded by my past I didn’t see what was going on in front of me the whole time. I didn’t know what else to say and I accidentally left his text on read that night.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“I’ve freaked you out haven’t I? Fuck I’m sorry!!!” 

Oh shit. I woke up to those unread messages from Christian – I just remembered I hadn’t texted him back last night. I immediately tried to reply but as my thumbs touched the screen to type, no words came to mind. I honestly didn’t know how to react, if I tell him I’m not looking for a relationship would it hurt him?

“I…”

“Christian…”

“If you want a relationship, I don’t know if I’m the right person for you…”

I locked my phone screen right after I sent those messages. I hoped I wasn’t being too harsh to him, but being put in this position was so overwhelming and I didn’t know what else to say. I just… I wasn’t ready. And I couldn’t tell when I would be. Not to mention he lives thousands of miles away from me and I didn’t think I could handle the distance.

An hour later, I finally heard back from Christian.

“I get it and I respect that.”

“What if we just… Be together for the summer?”

“We don’t have to think about what’s gonna happen after. Just be in the moment… You and me.”

I gave that idea of his a thought – a not-so-long thought because I was assuming I didn’t have enough time. I’d admit, while I found it interesting, I couldn’t help but wonder: would it be worth it? Would someone get hurt at the end?

Before the day ended, I finally made up my mind.

“Okay. I’m in…”

“But just for the summer.”

“And only if nobody is gonna get hurt.”

—

When he arrived, I was the one who picked him up at the airport. We absolutely spent our summer together everyday – there wasn’t a day that went by without him by my side and vice versa. He invited me to spend some time with his family and friends on their boats, and I had him spending time with mine on either the beach or my family’s home.

We were well aware we only had each other for the summer, thus we made sure every moment counts no matter how little or big it might be. We knew once this summer ends it also marks the end of our time together and go back to live our own separate lives. I didn’t want to think about what will happen next – I just want to live in the moment.

The more I spend my time with him, the stronger my feelings grow. It’s been messing up my mind, but I couldn’t let it ruin my summer. This was the best summer I’ve ever had in a long time, and I would not take it for granted. The memories we were creating throughout will forever live on in my head.

—

In the middle of our “summer of love”, Christian came to an agreement with AC Milan, and by that his time in Chelsea had come to an end and he had to relocate to Italy. And the club wanted him to join them for preseason, meaning his summer break had to be cut off sooner than he planned.

When he broke the news, I was stunned – not that I wasn’t happy about his move to Milan, I just needed time to process it. I also wasn’t ready for our summer to be over, but the circumstances forced us to cut our time short. It was pretty saddening for us that we unfortunately had to burst our little bubble.

“So… That’s it for us then?” I carefully asked.

“Let’s just not talk about it.” He refused.

I didn’t want to cause a fight at the time, so I agreed to let it go.

The entire time, I felt like I had to walk on eggshells around him. But eventually I couldn’t do that forever. You can't escape the reality no matter how much you want to.

—

Christian was packing his bags as he had a flight to catch the next morning. Yes, I couldn’t emphasize enough that we know our whatever-you-called-ship is coming to an end. In every hello there is a goodbye, right? But why does this feel so hard?

We have tried really hard not to mention anything about the fact that our summer love will be over soon but it is an inevitable topic. There is no way we can escape the conversation, especially on our very last day together. And I have to be the one to bring this up because Christian clearly didn’t want to – he might be the one who suggested the idea, but he is the one who is more in denial.

“Chris, you know we both have to say something, don’t you?” I tried to start the conversation.

“Can we not? Please.” He whimpered.

“We have to.” I insisted.

He kept packing in silence, not wanting to talk about the painful reality. I was sitting on the corner of his bed while he was standing across from me, avoiding eye contact since I started talking. He was looking down all the time – organizing his belongings – and not once he took even a little glance at me. I looked closely at his face, paying attention to every little detail I could. His face was red, eyes were puffy and watery, lips were tight – it was obvious to me he was trying so hard not to cry.

“So are you just going to freeze me out the entire time or?” Still no answer from him. 

I went and sat a lot closer to him and he tried to look away.

“Stop it, please! At least just look at my fucking eyes if you don’t want to fucking speak!”

And suddenly I saw tears running down on his face. He couldn’t hold them back anymore – his heart was completely shattered and it was obvious he was nowhere near ready to face the harsh reality.

“Chris… Listen…”

“Why can’t you change your mind?”

He asked a question that got me startled.

“What is it about me and the time that we had that made you certain you still don’t want a relationship?” His voice was trembling.

It took me a while to even say one fucking word to him. I felt like the worst person on earth for breaking the sweetest man’s heart. And to be honest, I broke my own heart too – and I was really trying my hardest to conceal it from him.

“Chris, you were the one who said, and I quote, “just be together for the summer”! I was being so clear I didn’t want a relationship yet you still offered me that. There’s nothing wrong with you, it’s just… I’m not ready. And I don’t know when I will be again.” I desperately tried to explain myself to him but I seemed to upset him even more.

“Yeah, right.” He shook his head and smacked his lips. “Whatever you say.”

I sighed.

“Chris… Please, why won’t you believe me?” I asked him quietly.

“I don’t buy your bullshit anymore.” He replied coldly, while wiping his tears.

Now done packing, he grabbed the car keys and put most of his belongings in the trunk.

I still wanted to have more conversation – about us, specifically – but after he was done with his stuff, he refused.

“I’m tired and I have an early flight to catch tomorrow. I think I should just go to sleep right now.” He said as he walked into his room.

“Yeah, of course...” I responded.

I tried to softly grab his hand but he swung his arm further away from me.

“See you tomorrow, Chris. Goo-”

He slammed the door on my face before I got to tell him goodnight. At the moment, I thought to myself: oh no, he really hates me.

—

The next morning I drove Christian to the airport. He was going to Milan with his dad and he was meeting him at the airport. On the way there, we didn’t really talk much. There was so much silence – and somehow it made everything even more painful.

I couldn’t handle the tension any longer, so I tried to break the ice.

“Hey, thank you for spending the summer with me. It was the best I’ve ever had.”

He only nodded.

“Umm, I’m sorry this only lasted for a short while...”

He looked down, he sniffed and rubbed his nose and sighed. 

“Well, have fun in Milan! You needed a fresh start and you’re about to get one… Christian, I am proud of you.”

I tried to be supportive and not say anything that could be perceived as “something wrong” because I knew he was in a fragile state at the moment, though it seemed like he wasn’t going to respond the way I hoped he would. I was genuinely proud of him by the way – always have and always will.

He looked up but still avoiding eye contact, let out a slight smile and chuckled a little bit.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“And uh… Maybe you’d forget about me with all the girls you’re going to meet there...”

I immediately regretted what I just said. Shit. What the fuck did I just say?

He finally looked directly into my eyes – a look full of disbelief and disappointment. There was a moment of silence between us. This time, I was the one who couldn’t see him in the eyes.

“Chris, I’m so, so sorry I didn’t m-”

“How could you say that, Y/N?” He cut me off before I finished talking, by the tone of his voice I could tell he was mad at me.

I froze for a minute. I knew I had fucked up but I never thought it would be so much worse – at the moment I was really, really fucking shit up.

“Do you think my feelings for you aren't real enough so other girls can easily make it go away? Do you really think I can forget you just like that? Are you implying that what we had all summer will not stick in your memories?”

“Wha- no, Chris, that’s not what I mean!”

What a mess I had made... And before I knew it, tears started to fill my eyes.

“Well to me it sounded like that. I’m appalled to know you don’t see whatever we were as something real and meaningful. Maybe it was a mistake to even ask you to give us a chance in the first place.” He sounded like he was truly aching and filled with regrets.

I glanced at him for a bit and I saw him biting his lip and his face was already all red. I never wanted our goodbye to be this heartbreaking but well… In this situation it’s bound to happen, isn’t it? Because I didn’t want to escalate our situation any further, I decided to shut my mouth and stop talking altogether. I was aware that whatever I said might hurt him deeper. Fuck, why can’t things be easier?

—

After what felt like a very long ride, we finally got to the airport. We met Christian’s dad, Mark, at the front gate as I helped Christian with his belongings. Mark greeted me and gave me a hug.

“Hey, Y/N! Thanks for dropping Christian off, if only you could come with us to Italy!” Mark excitedly thanked me, not knowing what happened between Christian and I.

I shook my head and slightly laughed to cover my discomfort. Then I saw Christian looking at his watch, and whispered to his dad: “let’s go.”

I took it as my cue to leave, so I said my farewell to both of them.

“Well, have a safe flight, Mr. Pulisic.” I smiled and nodded at Mark. 

Then I turned to Christian. He was still visibly upset – I didn’t have the heart to say anything, really. I had caused him a lot of pain, and I was afraid to open my mouth. But at the moment I knew I had to, since I didn’t know if we would ever see each other again.

“You too, Chris. Good luck over there.” I softly tapped his arm.

I waved at them and was ready to walk away when I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I turned around and it was Christian. He pulled me in for a hug – a very, very tight hug, like he wouldn’t let me go. He rested his head on my shoulder and I rubbed his back the whole time. It was a long hug – probably the longest ever for both of us – and we could no longer keep our overflowing emotions inside anymore.

“I’m sorry…” I whimpered.

“I know.” He whispered.

He stroked my head and kissed me in the forehead. His lips stayed there for a while.

“Y/N, I have to go...”

It was the hardest thing to do but I pulled away from the hug. Before he went inside, he took my hands and looked me in the eyes.

“Y/N, you will always be my greatest summer love… I will never forget you.” He said under his breath.

And the moment he walked through the gate, that was the last time I saw him in person. What we had might be short, but I will forever be thankful Christian made my summer unforgettable.

—

“You were my summer love

You always will be my summer love”

–

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

#this can’t be the ending #my heart is completely broken #I’m not crying you’re crying

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

Harry & Y/N’s baby calls Harry Harry

____

This was a request but the ask got deleted when I tried to save it to my drafts ): whoever you are here you go ): 💗 hope u like it

____

“Dada, I do it,” Isabella, Harry and Y/N’s 2 year old baby girl reached up for Harry to pick her up.

“You do it? You’re going to write my album?” Harry chuckled as he bent down in his seat to pick her up. She was sitting on his lap as he handed her his pen, “yeah,” she answered before beginning to scribble all over his journal.

“I made my babies a snack,” Y/N announces, entering the dining room with two grilled cheese sandwiches on separate plates. “One for baby Bella and one for Harry.”

“Thank you, mummy,” Harry emphasized, in order to make sure Bella repeated him.

“Tank you, mummy,” she was reaching for her sandwhich that was cut in half immediately.

“Mmm,” Harry hummed as he ate, and Bella then made the same sound, adding a little, “yummy,” at the end of hers, which made her parents laugh.

“Look mommy, I do it,” Isabella pointed at her drawing. “I writing songs.”

It was something she picked up from Harry. He was constantly writing, and whenever she asked him (“wha you doing, dada?”), he always responded with “I’m writing songs.”

So it was a phrase she knew very well.

“You’re writing songs?!” Y/N gasped. “Are you gonna be just like dada when you grow up?”

She wasn’t too good at conversations yet, and rarely ever finished them.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” Y/N laughed as Isabella scribbled without a care in the world.

“What?” Isabella asked, making Harry laugh loudly.

“I said, are you going to be like dada when you grow up?”

“I no know,” Isabella said innocently with a shrug.

“Aww, you no know?” Harry cooed. “You yes know. You will be like dada. I mean just look at how great the lyrics you’ve written are.”

“Eat,” Isabella picked up Harry’s sandwich and pushed it towards his lips.

“In other words she’s telling you to shut up,” Y/N laughed as Isabella fed Harry his sandwhich.

He was chewing and she was trying to put the sandwich in his mouth so that he could take another bite. “Hang on,” he laughed, swallowing and taking another bite.

“It’s good?” Isabella asked.

“Mhm, very good,” Harry nodded.

“Want more?” Isabella asked, raising her eyebrows as she looked up at her daddy from his lap.

“No, thank you,” he was chewing still. “I’ve got my mouth full.”

“Okay,” Isabella put his sandwhich down and began to scribble once again.

“I love you,” Harry hummed.

“I love you, dada,” she hummed.

“Hey, what about me? Do you love mommy?”

“I love mommy,” she nodded.

Harry and Y/N laughed, making eye contact with one another before they both just watched their little angel scribble things very carefully into Harry’s journal.

The next day, when Harry got home from his radio interview in the afternoon, Isabella came running to greet him, as usual. She wore a hot pink sweatshirt with grey sweatpants, and thick beige socks on her feet.

“What, did the heater stop working?” Harry chuckled when he saw her running towards him. She was about to slip before he scooped her up into his arms. He kissed her cheek, “hello, my baby. Are you alright?”

She kissed his cheek, as she knows she is supposed to. “Hi! Me and mommy make cookies, Harry. Come see!”

Harry opened his mouth to speak before his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth closed.

“Did she just,” he heard from the kitchen.

“I don’t want to believe it but I think so!” Harry called. “What did you just call me?”

“Harry,” she gave him a cheeky smile.

“That’s not my name!” He shrieked. “Since when do you call me Harry?”

She only smiled, grinning nervously, her big playful eyes staring into his.

“Mama calls you Harry.”

She hears it all the time, in her defense. Whether mama’s calling him for dinner with a loud, “Harry, dinners ready!” Or if she’s on the phone with him and asks, “hey, Harry, where are you?”

“Mama calls me Harry, not you.”

“Harryy,” she whined, wrapping her arms around his neck as she giggled, pecking his lips. “I wove you, Harry.”

That was when he attacked her cheek with kisses, making her scream and giggle. “My name isn’t Harry! My name is dada. Isabella calls me dada, not Harry.”

“Harry,” she stated.

“Noooo!” Harry screamed. “You know what? That’s it!” He tossed her over his shoulder and held her there as he walked to the kitchen while she screamed and giggled behind his back.

“Y/N!” He called loudly. “Isabella is being a bad girl and calling dada Harry. And guess who she learned it from?”

“Who?” Y/N asked, although she knew it had to have been her.

“Who’d you learn it from, Bella?” Harry called.

“Mama,” she giggled, upside down and behind Harry’s back.

“From now on, everyone in this house is to call me dada at all times! Understood, troublemakers?”

“I said understood!” He screamed, patting Bella’s bum that was on his shoulder a few times.

“Yes!” Bella giggled. “I want up!”

“You want up? What’s up?” Harry asked.

“I want up, dada,” she whined, trying to kick her legs that were in Harry’s hold.

Harry held her upright then, on his hip.

“No more do that,” she shook her head.

“No more do that?” Harry laughed. “No more throwing you over my shoulder?”

“No, dada.”

“And why not?”

“Baby no like it.”

Harry snorted, “baby no like it? Okay, I suppose I’ll stop.”

“Tank you.”

“You are very welcome, love,” Harry chuckled.

“Mama show Harry cookies.”

“Who?!” Harry screamed.

“Dada!” Isabella screamed with a giggle. “Dada. Not Harry.”

“That’s right,” Harry said sternly.

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

young mom or professor !!

It was a busy afternoon at the Styles residence. Hair and makeup teams were running around, style teams were laying out last-minute options in case he or Y/n wished to change their outfit ideas for the night, and obviously, his most important team was hard at work to get him ready.

"Stay still, Daddy!" Collette, his second daughter said, looking up at him with a pout.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll try my best," Harry said, nodding for her to continue painting his nails. He peered down at her, eyeing the careful work she was doing. "You're quite good at this, you know."

Collette didn't look up from his hand, but Harry saw her smile, one that was nearly identical to her mother's if it wasn't for the dimples in her cheeks. "Thank you."

Before he could respond, Harry's chin was being tilted up by Simone. "This should make the bags under your eyes go away," she said, placing gel masks just under his eyes.

Harry tried not to frown at the implication that he had bags under his eyes to begin with. He never thought his daughters would be so brutally honest, but they never minced their words, especially when it came to his appearance.

So instead of opening that can of worms, he asked who was helping their mum get ready.

"The twins, but I think it's more pretend," Simone said, combing his eyebrows in place with a little brush.

"I see," he mumbled. "Well, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to help me look pretty."

In truth, Simone was so excited about Harry going to the Grammys, she wanted to be a part of it in some way, shape, or form. She wouldn't be able to go, as that would stir up a media frenzy. For the first time, though, Harry had considered risking it all just so he could have a Daddy-daughter date tonight. Ultimately, he decided that it was better to keep that secret a secret, though he did have to promise to get Olivia Rodrigo's autograph and bring it home by the end of the night to make up for Simone not going. How he was going to manage that, he had no idea.

Still, it was a big night, for many reasons. Not only was Harry nominated for some of the night's biggest awards, Y/n was also joining him, marking their first public appearance. Ever.

His wife had been nervous, and rightfully so, but Harry wanted her to be there, wanted to spend this night with the people he loved, and there was no one else he loved more than Y/n. Except for his children, obviously.

So Y/n was in a different room getting her hair and makeup done, preparing for a night no one would soon forget while Harry was letting his two oldest children pamper him before he had to get dressed.

"Do you know what your mum is wearing? She refuses to tell me," Harry said. Simone seemed to be done with his face for the time being and was helping Collette paint his nails.

"We're not going to tell you, either!" Collette said.

Harry frowned playfully. "And that is why Julian is my favorite. He would've told me."

The girls giggled before continuing on. When it came time for Harry to start getting dressed in his red carpet outfit—a fun jumpsuit that passed voting from all six of his children (mostly four because Geneva and Natalia couldn't talk yet, but they seemed as excited as they could be)—Simone and Collette watched with wide eyes. The hair and makeup teams, who were all under strict NDAs, were incredibly kind to Harry's daughters and even styled their hair and put a little blush and lip gloss on them. Harry could only be glad that they got to have a small part of this whole experience.

He was ready in no time, and suddenly it was time to go. Harry waited patiently and anxiously downstairs as the time to walk on the red carpet drew nearer. He was nervous about tonight for so many reasons, but all he could think about was what revealing such a well-kept secret would mean for his family.

Had they really thought this through? Did Y/n want to come tonight or was she humoring Harry? Would she be more comfortable watching from a dressing room? Or even here at home? What if something happened to GiGi or Natalia or Maeve—

"Harry?"

All his thoughts came to a halt as his wife appeared in front of him, brows furrowed with concern.

And as he blinked, taking her in for the first time since she disappeared to get ready, the only thought he was capable of thinking was he was pretty sure he'd just fallen in love all over again.

Y/n had secretly gone to a handful of events for years, they'd gone to dates at fancy restaurants, and had attended weddings that required dressing up. But all of those times Y/n had dressed to blend into the background so as not to raise suspicion. Tonight, however...

Tonight Y/n was meant to stand out, was meant to be noticed. She was in a dress of gauzy, white fabric that gathered in ruffles all the way down until the gown hit the floor. The fabric was light enough to see just a hint of skin, but not enough to reveal much, though Harry could identify every curve and dip her body made. She was ethereal, an angel in white, almost like—

"It almost looks like a wedding dress, huh?" Y/n mused, twisting so the gown swished back and forth on the floor. "Don't know if I would've worn this to our wedding, though."

Harry and Y/n never had a big white wedding. They'd snuck out to a courthouse one afternoon while One Direction was touring, with Niall and Louis as their witnesses while Liam distracted everyone at the hotel. It was small and rushed, and the judge definitely thought the couple was much too young to be getting married. They didn't even have rings, as a wedding band on Harry's finger would be completely unacceptable. But none of that mattered as they both recited the vows they prepared and sealed their union with a kiss.

Her jokes did the trick, and Harry's brain began functioning normally once more. He grinned and took her hand so she could spin and show him the whole thing. "The judge definitely would've raised his eyebrows."

Years went by and they never had a vow renewal. Since Harry had bought out his contract with One Direction's management, he'd wanted to have a proper wedding, but there was just never any time. And now that they were six kids in, free time was a pipe dream, though they were the kind of busy he would never be sorry for.

Tonight, though, in this dress, Y/n looked like she could walk down an aisle, and Harry was nearly tempted to run upstairs and grab the velvet box he'd had since he was seventeen years old.

"If you're not ready, I completely understand," he said.

"I'm nervous about tonight," Y/n admitted, and with one look at her face, Harry could see the anxiety written all over it.

They could keep the secret going, he could brave this night with Kid and Jeffrey and it would be great. He would miss Y/n and the rest of his family, but he would manage as he always did.

Y/n shook her head, and Harry's shoulders sagged just the tiniest bit with relief. "I want to be with you tonight. This is a big deal."

"It's nothing—"

"Don't do that," Y/n chided, holding Harry's face in her hands. "Don't minimize what a great achievement just being nominated is."

Y/n knew Harry like no one else. She knew he would try to downplay tonight if it made her worry about him less, but this was his big night. Win or lose, she was immensely proud of him, he had to know that.

"I'm coming, you just have to promise to hold my hand the entire night," she said.

Harry grinned. "What if I win and have to make a big speech?"

She wrapped her hands around his neck, her fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair. "Then and only then can you let go. Oh, and for your performance. But that's it."

"I think I can make that work."

Harry leaned in, his nose brushing against Y/n's teasingly until she pressed her lips against his. They were hardly brushing when the sound of footsteps hurtled down the stairs.

"Mommy! Simone says she gets to stay up all night to watch the show and I don't!"

"You're not old enough, Collette!"

"Neither are you!"

"Daddy, don't go," Julian cried, tugging on Harry's pant leg. He gave Y/n a look as they pulled apart to attend to their children. Sweeping Jules into his arms, he gave his only son a kiss on the cheek, which was already sticky with shed tears.

"Don't cry, Julian," he said softly, pushing the boy's thick hair from his face. "We won't be gone long. I promise."

Julian continued to cry, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Harry's neck, and Harry whispered softly into his ear until his son's little heart stopped beating so wildly in his chest. Jules hiccuped as Harry walked over to see that the argument between Maeve and Collette had been settled, and they were now admiring Y/n in her dress.

"I wish I could take you with me, Jules, but I don't think you'd like it very much," Harry said. He tried to set his son down, but his little legs clung to Harry's waist even tighter. "It'll be loud with lots of bright lights and not a chicken nugget in sight. I think it's best you stay home, don't you think?"

Julian nodded, but he was still clinging to Harry, who shot a look of desperation to his wife. Harry loved all of his children dearly, but they were on a tight schedule.

Y/n understood and took Julian into her arms, not at all worried about the couture dress she was wearing. She took him back upstairs where the babysitter was with Geneva and Natalia and Maeve. When she came back down a couple minutes later, Julian was gone.

"Poor thing tired himself out," she explained. Then, to her two oldest children, she said, "The second the last acceptance speech is done, up to bed. Understood?"

Simone and Collette nodded, then rushed forward to hug Y/n and Harry before ushering them out of the house, telling them to say hi to Auntie Lizzo.

As promised, Harry took Y/n's hand as they walked to the car that would take them to the theater that was hosting the Grammys. She looked at him appreciatively, resting her head on his shoulder as the car pulled away from their house.

"I'm proud of you," she said out of the blue. "If I don't get the chance to say it when you win, when you win," she repeated when Harry tried to object. "I just want you to know how proud I am of you, and not just as an artist, but as a dad and a husband too. You're one in a million, H, and I'm so happy I get to be a small part of that."

Harry was speechless. There was nothing to say that would express how much he appreciated Y/n, so he settled for a kiss. His hand was steady as he cradled the back of her head, his lips immediately finding the familiar place around her bottom lip. He suddenly wished Y/n's dress didn't have so much fabric so he could have better access to her, but he settled for trailing his hands up and down her arms and kissing all along her jaw and neck and chest until she eventually pulled him up again.

"This is one way to settle nerves," she joked, thumb grazing his jaw.

"Let me know if your nerves need any more settling throughout the night. We can sneak away during commercial breaks."

Y/n shook her head at the look Harry gave her, the same one that landed her pregnant six times. "I'll keep that in mind."

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Harry took a bow at the end of his performance, then straightened. His eyes trailed the room back to where his table was, finding Y/n's gaze instantly. Her hands were clasped together tightly, covering the bright smile on her face.

Looking at her, his heart settled. He'd gotten lost in the heat of the performance, but she always managed to bring him back down to earth.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Before he could think about it, he pressed his fingers to his mouth, then gestured out, blowing a kiss to his wife. Not caring who was watching, Y/n reached up and grabbed the kiss out of the air and placed it on her chest, her eyes crinkling even further as she continued to smile from ear to ear.

"So, Harry, talk to us a little about how it feels to win Album of the Year."

Harry gave his answer, talking about how surprised he was to win and what it meant to him that his music meant so much to people. Y/n thought it was cute how he stumbled over his words, trying to piece together how he felt.

"And how do you plan to celebrate? Can we expect to see you at any after parties tonight?"

"Uh, no. It's back home to the little ones for me," he said, the answer rolling off his tongue before it was too late.

"Little ones?"

"My, um, my cats. I have a few cats that are practically my children. I'll be celebrating with them tonight."

"There's no way in hell anyone is gonna believe that," Y/n muttered to Jeff, who was holding his head in his hands, not unlike Harry had when he won earlier.

"Well, Harry, we wish you all the best!"

"Thank you, I appreciate that," he said before shuffling away from the press room.

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

My heart 🥹

latina!y/n for Grammy blurb eso bc benito is nominated!!

it always feels weird to mention other celebrities in fics, but i just know y/n would be the life of the party at the grammys. enjoy!

Harry was nervous about this year's Grammys, of course he was.

But trust his fiance to steal the show from him completely.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

You were buzzing in a way you never had before. This year, you got to sit at a table with Harry and his team at the Grammys, but not only that, you had prime seating next to Adele, Lizzo, and Taylor Swift, and Beyonce. You promised yourself you would be on your best behavior, that you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself or Harry. There were going to be cameras everywhere, you didn't need that kind of media attention.

But the second tequila touched your lips and Bad Bunny appeared onstage, it was over.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

"Get up and dance with me!"

It was only the first minute of the performance, but Y/n was on her feet and pulling Harry up with her. Both of them knew that Harry was on the shy side, and that he would've been more inclined to dance after a couple of drinks, so Y/n wouldn't have minded if he stayed sitting down. But to her surprise, he stood up.

She jumped up and down and squealed, and Harry could only smile at her in return as she began to dance to the opening performance. He swayed a little and clapped along, keeping his eyes on Y/n the whole time.

She was just so happy, like this music lived in her soul. Harry knew Y/n loved his music, but he also understood the pride his love was feeling as she listened to the music she grew up hearing in her native tongue. And honestly, it was quite magical to watch. And infectious too. So much so that she garnered the attention of some of the backup dancers that were moving through the crowd. They took over for Harry, who had been holding Y/n's hands and spinning her around every now and again.

Harry could hardly contain his smile as he admired Y/n. She was stunning in her red gown, even more so as she moved in perfect time with the music. This night was about him, and nerves had gripped him all day, but none of that mattered to him at that moment, not when her smile was so big it lit her from within.

From that moment on, there was hardly a moment when Y/n was sitting down. If someone was performing, she was up and dancing alongside Lizzo or Taylor, who were more than happy to match her energy.

Harry didn't mind that when people stopped by his table, they ended up having a conversation and sharing a drink with Y/n. In fact, he was happy to see his love so outgoing in public when she was usually so shy around such well-known faces.

Just a few months ago she was practically hiding behind his arm as he introduced her to Chris Pine, and now she was dancing with Doja Cat as Queen Latifah and Missy Elliott performed. Y/n had become the life of the party, yet few people knew who she was.

"She's absolutely lovely."

"She's a doll, Harry."

"I just ran into the nicest young woman, and she said she was with you!"

"Promise me you're coming to the after party."

Compliment after compliment after compliment, and Harry fielded each one proudly. So often Y/n got insecure about what the public thought of her, but she had completely enchanted every single person in the room tonight. It was better than any award Harry was up for tonight.

And then, of course, was the moment when Bad Bunny actually came over to their table at the commercial break, which of course was when Y/n went quiet. Harry shot her an amused look when she gripped his hand tightly and let him lead the conversation, especially when she was the one who spoke Spanish.

"And I saw you from the stage. I should've hired you to be one of my dancers," he said.

Y/n blushed and gripped Harry's hand even harder. "I...I'm just a huge fan. Of—Of your music, and what you've done for the Latinx community...I—"

She gushed to her favorite artist in a rush of Spanish that Harry managed to follow, that same beautiful smile on her face. Not an ounce of jealousy coursed through him, even as Bad Bunny smiled at his love in return. She was still holding his hand, and he knew what it was like to be moved by music, to get to express admiration for someone he'd been a fan of for a long time.

When Bad Bunny eventually left, Y/n loosed out a long breath. Harry leaned over and kissed her temple. "You did great, lovie."

"I think I just blacked out," she admitted, eyes wide with disbelief.

Harry grinned and kissed her again, pulling her chair closer to his. "I'll tell you all about it at the next commercial break.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

It was the end of the night, the last award was about to be called. Once again, your hand was in Harry's, only this time he was gripping yours just as hard as you held his. His breaths were shaky as he waited for the winner to be announced. Harry was as humble as they came, and you knew he would be proud of whoever won the award, but you also knew how much pressure he put on himself. He wanted this, badly, and you wanted it for him.

Muttering prayer after prayer under your breath, you watched the stage, hardly blinking the entire time. When Trevor Noah looked down at the card, then walked over to the line of fans behind him, toward one in particular, you knew.

"Bubba, it's you. You—"

"H—Harry—Harry Styles."

The room erupted, but Harry curled in on himself, hiding his face in his hands. You were there in a heartbeat, resting a hand on his back and whispering softly in his ear. "You did it, bubba. I'm so proud of you. I love you. Now get up there. You deserve it."

Harry finally emerged, and you could tell he was close to crying. You hugged and kissed him briefly, then stepped out of the way to let Kid and Tyler embrace him. Lizzo was screaming and jumping beside you, turning her phone toward you to capture your reaction.

As Harry walked up to the stage and headed straight to the older woman who was his "biggest fan," you immediately had a thought. "Anne. Anne should be here."

You grabbed Harry's phone because it was closest to you and unlocked it, pulling up his mother's contact. The first ring barely went through before the FaceTime call connected. Harry's family was all together to celebrate, but you quickly hushed them as you turned the camera toward the stage.

The moment Harry began talking, you teared up. Harry was so sweet and so clearly awestruck that he couldn't find the words to properly express himself. But he deserved this, more than he thought he did. Harry worked so hard, created something so honest and endearing that you had no doubts that he would win (would you have minded if Beyonce or Bad Bunny won? No, but this was well deserved).

"And, uh, to my best friend, the love of my life, I love you. Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world and allowing me to create music that reflects that. This is for you."

"If you don't go meet your man backstage right now," Lizzo muttered to you, to which Anne muttered her approval from Harry's phone.

Laughing, you quickly dabbed your tears away and rushed off to where you saw Harry disappear moments ago.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Harry was shaking hands and receiving claps on the back from people backstage. He was smiling, but in a dumbstruck kind of way. He still couldn't quite believe he'd won the award for Album of the Year.

He'd stopped to talk to someone as he handed the Grammy back to a crew member (the real one with his name on it would come in a few days) when Kid tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. Kid nodded down the hall, and Harry followed his friend's gaze to where a woman in red was standing, her hands clasped together and searching. Searching for him.

Harry went over to her immediately, collapsing in her arms. Y/n held onto him fiercely, one hand cupping the back of his head while the other rubbed up and down his back. The force of everything that just happened crashed into him, and almost as if she knew, his love held him that much tighter, kissing the top of his head over and over again.

"I think I just blacked out up there," he said against her, not quite ready to face the rest of the world just yet.

Y/n tipped his head up and kissed him hard and quick. There was a look in her eye that had Harry blushing; it was the look she gave him whenever she wanted to pull him into the closest room with a lock and be alone for a while. But all she did was rub her thumb against his cheekbone affectionately. "I'll tell you all about it later."

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

Part 3 please? You can’t just leave us hanging like this, i love the two pieces! They were so good!!

Favourite (2)

Summary: harry loves one of his children less

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 1804 words

A/N: y’all know I’ve been feeling sensitive about posting this piece so if you have any comments BE NICE BE NICE BE NICE 🥺

Part 1

___

The events from the previous weeks rattled the Styles’ household. Caleb woke to a tense morning the next morning where his dad was nowhere to be seen and Beatrice was holed up in her room. Dinner was even more awkward when silence draped over their backs like a cold blanket. Y/N tried her best to continue a dwindling conversation but there was only so much she could say until Beatrice’s silence towards Harry’s questions started to suggest that she didn’t want to speak to her dad. The youngest daughter, Ruby, seemed to be the holy grail of each family dinner when she babbled about her day in pre-school.

Beatrice was set to leave home in exactly two days. Y/N could feel a sense of pride seeing her eldest leave the family home, setting off to university and becoming her own person. Y/N knew that Beatrice had a difficult time separating Beatrice, Harry Styles’ daughter, to just Beatrice. Y/N looked back to when Beatrice was younger–an unexpected surprise that she learned to love when she felt the first symptoms of morning sickness–how she was bound to change her and Harry’s life forever. 

___

Y/N wasn’t sure if her brain blocked out the memories of Harry being hostile to their first child until recently; maybe it was a denial that there was no way Harry could blatantly show anything less than love for their child. But the more Y/N thought about Beatrice’s birthdays, recitals and school events; all she could see notice now was Harry’s distanced posture. His distraction when Beatrice performed on stage, the excuses when she had a dance recital, and unenthusiastic greeting of ‘happy birthday’. 

Harry leaned his shoulder against the door frame of the barren room, observing the bed and bedside table as it was stripped bare of the flower-printed sheets, watching his wife flip through the photo album filled with Beatrice’s accomplishments. The parents could not help but let a wave of nostalgia wash over them. The lamp on the bedside table lit the entire room. The fairy lights that were hung on her wall were taken down a few days ago; one of the items that Beatrice packed last. 

“She asked me to help her put the lights up,” Harry whispered, tracing his fingers over the cream walls, walking over to where Y/N sat on the mattress. “I told her I was busy and she did it by herself,”

Y/N sighed, lifting her head to direct Harry to the spot beside her, “I know,” She sunk with Harry’s weight at her side, his slouched shoulders further emphasizing his despondent mood. “We raised a good done, hm?”

Harry shook his head in disappointment, “No..not me,” His chest ached with missed opportunities to bond with his daughter; all because he couldn’t get over the fact that she came as a surprise. He was at the peak of his career and he wasn’t too glad that he was forced to push everything back–his album release, promo, and tour–to the next year all because of a child that he didn’t even plan on having in the first place. 

In retrospect, Harry should have known better. He should have reacted like a mature adult, a father-to-be and became an actual dad to Beatrice instead of holding a grudge to an innocent little baby. He still had a successful career that he always dreamed of but he can never turn back time for all the shortcomings he had with his child. 

Harry felt extremely guilty for missing Beatrice’s childhood, so he tried to compensate for the guilt looming over him by presenting his younger children the type of love that he failed to give her. How daft was he to not notice his actions would only push her away from him? That, to Beatrice, it was Harry’s way of highlighting the fact that he would never accept the way she was conceived? 

“What’s this?” Harry mused, tilting his jaw on where her hand rested to keep the page bookmarked. 

“Jus’ some pictures over the years. Wanna see?”

Here Harry was, flicking the glossy pages of an old photo album, looking at a dopey-smiled Beatrice on her first day of kindergarten. Her hair was in pigtails done by Harry that morning because Y/N had an early day at work. She was saddened that she couldn’t go but Harry reassured her that he will be there every step of the way. It was a half-lie. Harry dropped her off, took a quick picture and left the premises as soon as he could, missing the way his daughter’s eyes glazed over. Lips formed a pout and her tiny chin quivered as she watched her dad drive off in his black Range Rover.

The next photo was 7-year old Beatrice in her pink long sleeve and a wispy tutu wrapped around her waist. Her hair was pulled back in a ballerina bun; this time was done by Y/N if the slickness of her hairstyle was anything to go by. The left page was of Beatrice on the sidelines of the auditorium. The room was partially filled. Harry concluded that it was before the performance because of the dimple printed on her cheek since the right page showcased a sullen girl surrounded by her dance mates and their parents. Harry could remember Y/N’s frantic phone calls that night, asking ‘where are you?’ and ‘what time are you getting here?’ as the faint music blared through the speakers. 

Harry gulped at the memory. He came home to find Beatrice asleep in her costume, a plastic tiara gripped in her hand. Y/N said that she wanted to give it to him. Beatrice could at least give him something from her performance because he didn’t make it.

__

Y/N’s phone buzzed in her pocket, halting Harry’s thoughts as she answered the call. She pointed towards the door, mouthing silently that she had to answer it. “It’s Beatrice,”

Harry’s brows perched on his forehead, nervousness filled his body at the sound of her name. He didn’t even make things right before she left; too afraid of rejection when he deserved it. 

His fingers flicked through the pages. Beatrice’s piano recital. 

She was fourteen at that time. Caleb was sat on the seat next to him while Ruby was being nursed in Y/N’s arms. Beatrice peeked through the curtains, wanting to make sure that her dad was planted in his seat. She was excited to showcase the skills she learned in the past year. She was hoping to impress Harry in musical terms when she won first place. Beatrice was sure of it! She practiced for long hours until her fingers were stiff from overuse. Her other tries to catch her dad’s attention garnered her little-to-no attention and this was her last idea. 

Y/N gave her daughter a thumbs up as Beatrice walked towards the grand piano center stage. 

Beatrice was in the middle of her piece when she heard her Caleb’s curious voice over the silent crowd, “Dad, where are you going?”

She looked up just in time to catch Harry’s emotionless eyes. His expression was painted in annoyance and his phone was clutched in his hand. Beatrice’s fingers jittered with a shaky breath, feeling her fingertips trace over the wrong keys and eventually stopping altogether. The crowd gasped, murmurs flittering in and out of her ears as she stared at her lap. She tried to compose herself, maybe even pick up where she left off and continue playing as if she didn’t stop. The show must go on, right?

When Beatrice gathered enough courage to continue, she took a deep breath and lifted her head towards where her family sat. She was certain that her dad took his seat again but she could not be more wrong. Beatrice was just barely able to see Harry’s blazer flapping as the door closed shut behind him. 

__

“She ran off stage after that,” Caleb spoke from beside him. “Didn’t want mum around. She kept asking for you but you left or something,”

Harry closed his eyes tightly, tears dripping from the corners as he breathed out a sigh. He did. He left the building as soon as he could. The urgent phone call he received was from Jeff relaying that the media claimed to have found where his kids went to school. He couldn’t jeopardize their safety because of people wanting to meet him; because of him. There was no way he would let anything hurt his children. 

“I know I haven’t been the best dad to your sister,” Harry shut the book softly, wrapping his arm around Caleb’s broad shoulders. “But I really do love her,”

Caleb’s curls tickled his ears as he nodded, “She knows,”

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise, “Really?”

“Yeah. Before she left, she was talking about everything she was gonna miss. She said she was going to miss you, even if you, and I quote, ‘might not miss her’,” Caleb formed his fingers into bunny ears.

Harry desperately wished that he was brave enough to fix his mistakes. A simple, wholehearted talk with Beatrice might’ve been all he needed to start mending his relationship with her. But he stood back like a coward; hiding from his own daughter because of an irrational fear of rejection. Instead, he walked by her room, door left wide open as Beatrice gathered clothes from her closet to pack in the next box. Each time he would pass by the hallway to his and Y/N’s room, more of her items would be packed up, taped and ready to go. Packed boxes slowly filled the hallway and her closet emptied as her clothing was folded in an organized manner.

First, it was her desk. Her pens and notebooks leaving the cluttered space empty. Then, it was her hangers stripped off her dresses, jackets and coats. Her shoes were the next to go, leaving more space in the downstairs closet by the door until only one pair remained unpacked; the one she used to walk out of their house. Next, it was her dresser packed with moisturizers and makeup closed tightly to prevent spillage. Beatrice peeled off her duvet and bedsheets to wash the night before she left, opting to sleep next to Ruby on her final night at home. 

One image that he kept reeling in his head like a film projector was Beatrice climbing the metal steps of the ladder from the garage. She placed it sturdy on the floor before she stretched her hands to unhook the fairy lights from the wall. Unlike before where Beatrice knocked on his office door, hesitantly asking for help to put up the fairy lights–she didn’t ask for Harry’s help taking it down. 

___

A/N: I know that a lot of people might’ve wanted a full circle ending where Harry apologizes but I’m pretty happy with this ending because it’s open-ended. 

___

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[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

Favourite

Summary: Harry likes one of his children less

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 4.1k

Based on: where harry plays favourites with his kids and doesn’t like one of his daughters because she was an ‘accident’ baby

Part 2

——

It was a quarter past midnight when Beatrice received a text from her younger, Caleb, to open the door for him. Their door was braced by a few locks that could only be unlocked from the inside. Caleb went to a friend’s party tonight, telling their parents that he would be home before 12 and he was already twenty minutes late. Beatrice knew that he had nothing to worry about– that he could return the next morning and their dad wouldn’t bat an eyelash at him– but Caleb’s worries insisted on looking at his older sister for help. 

Beatrice heard the sound of tiny footsteps padding against the hallway earlier in the night, indicating that the youngest Styles’ child, Ruby, was already cuddled up in bed with her stuffed toys. Her mom also peeked her head through the door to say ‘goodnight’, so Tris assumed that both her parents went up to their bedroom. 

However, she was caught off guard when she heard the front door suddenly open, leaving her freezing at the top of the staircase. She hears the locks unbuckle from their place, the door slightly creaking as it was pushed open and she could hear Caleb faintly gasp at who was on the other side. Beatrice moves slowly as to not make any noise, trying to catch a view of the two men. 

“Do you know what time it is?” Harry asks with a disappointed look, Beatrice assumes.

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[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

I have always loved this man since I was 13, I’m 23 now, I am so proud to call myself a fan of his! I cried finding out he won more than one Grammy this year!!

CONGRATULATIONS, HARRY!

Album of The Year - Harry’s House  Best Pop Vocal Album - Harry’s House Best Engineered Album - Harry’s House

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

The love I have for this man is hard to explain! He deserves those Grammys!!

— Harry’s reaction to winning the Grammy Award for Best Pop Vocal Album with Harry’s House