#and that when asked what he played Harry at first Mitch answers not with a song but with a fucking guitar tuning
Text
private show
summary: you miss harry’s concert but half of it isn’t your fault.
warnings: mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, swearing, kissing, teasing, unprotected shower sex, dirty talk, fingering...
word count: 3,938
a/n: i literally wrote this about four years ago, but it’s all been edited and freshened up a little for you guys! i hope you’re staying safe and if there’s any writings in particular you’d like to see, send me a message! anyway, enjoy this smutty piece:)
//
The car broke down. You weren’t sure how it happened, or why, but the engine wouldn’t start and your dad suspected the battery died.
You’re in London with Harry for a few days, Harry performing and you visiting your family in a small town a few hours out of central London. You’d come by late afternoon yesterday and now you’re stuck.
You’re meant to be going back to London in time for Harry’s show, but with no car and none of your family having one to lend, you’re shit out of luck. You didn’t have the money or time to get the battery recharged or get a new one, and in all honesty, you didn’t know what you needed to do for it anyway.
So, with your little suitcase and your purse, you got yourself a train ticket straight to London. You missed the first train, the bus getting you to the station three minutes late. So you had no choice but to wait in the warmth of the sun for seven minutes until the next one came.
You only stayed on that one for three stops, staring at your phone screen when the rail app told you that you’d need to get off. And you did, sat down for twenty minutes while you waited for the next one that took you straight to Greenwich.
By then it was already 7 pm and you knew you’d most likely miss his entire show at this rate. And then the train showed up and you hopped on it, squeezing between the standing people and you shoved your earphones in, playing an old playlist Harry had made you.
And that’s when you get the text.
iMessage from H💞
Hey. You close, I’m on in an hour x
You sigh and rub your forehead, flicking back to the app on your phone and groaning when you realise you’ll be twenty minutes on that train and then need to get another Bank one for six minutes, then a thirty-minute walk, and then the underground.
iMessage to H💞
Just left for the Greenwich line. Car broke and I don't have time or money on me to get it sorted. Taking the train and it’s insane how many connections you have to make. I don’t know what time I’m gonna be there. Does security know I’m coming in backstage? Xx
You lock your phone with a sigh and turn up the volume of the music, closing your eyes for a moment and trying to calm your nerves and anxieties.
Soon enough, you’re getting off at Greenwich and onto the Bank train. Only when you go past Heron Quay do you realise that you’ve missed your stop and, essentially, gotten yourself lost.
Your panic only grows when Harry stops answering your calls and texts and then you realise it was 8:31 and he’s already on stage, performing, without you supporting him on the side stage.
You try to call Jeffrey, but of course, no answer. Matt, no answer. Mitch, no answer. Jasmine, his opener, no answer. It’ll be useless to call your parents, neither of them know the train lines and can’t come and pick you up anyway because they don’t drive.
You struggle to ask people where to go, most people pushing past you in their own hurry to get to their destinations, and you’re shocked to not see any rail workers anywhere on the platforms to offer assistance.
So, you do what you do best. You panic. You slump down on one of the cold, metal benches with your suitcase by your side and purse in your lap. Tears are quick to prickle at your eyes and the air grows colder, bitter.
If you had just got off at your stop, you would’ve been with the others by now, watching your man perform on stage and become one with the crowd. But, here you are, cold, alone, and lost.
Your little denim jacket is doing nothing to conserve heat and your legs bounce as you try to warm yourself up. Your achingly cold fingers struggle to type up a route you could take and before long, thirty minutes have passed and it’s 9 pm.
And then, the worst possible thing happens. Your phone dies.
You panic even harder now, your chest constricting and you struggle to catch a breath. It isn’t until you see an older man slowly walk the yellow safety lines of the station in a high-vis train rail jacket that you calm just a little.
You shoot up from your seat, hands clammy and shaking as you pull your suitcase with you. “Excuse me!” You call out to the older man, the station much quieter now.
He turns to you with raised brows and a friendly smile, and you’re more than relieved that you’ll be getting some help.
“I’m not from around here and I missed my stop and ended up here.” You explain as calmly as you can, taking deep breaths and swallowing back the lump in your throat.
“Okay. Where are you heading?” The older man asks, sliding his silver-rimmed glasses up the smooth slope of his nose.
“I’m trying to get to the O2 Arena.” Your heart’s stammering in your chest and you explain how your phone had died and you have no way of contacting anyone or getting routes.
The man, Barry, assures you it will be fine. He writes down the trains and stops you need to make and where to go from there, then offers you his battery pack to charge your phone for a few minutes.
You check it when you get on the next train, a message from Jasmine on your screen and the time’s now nearing 9:34 pm.
iMessage from Jasmine X
Hey!! Where are you?? Everything okay? Call me!!
You sigh and quickly begin typing, trying to explain what happened and that you’re on your way, but before you can ever send the text, your phone freezes and cuts off dead.
You take another deep breath, trying to keep calm, and shove your phone into your pocket. Your ears focus on the voice through the speaker, listening closely for your stop and staring at the piece of paper in your hand so you know when to get off.
By the time you reach the O2, it’s 10 pm and you're certain the show’s over. You sprint to the doors, unsure where you’re even meant to go. You don’t have a ticket and Harry has your backstage pass.
“Can I help you, miss?”
The security guards eye you cautiously, somewhat alarmed by your frantic state. To them, you look just like every other fangirl they’ve ever met.
“I’m meant to be meeting Harry’s team backstage. Do you know how I get there?”
You’re breathless, body somewhat numb from the sudden drop in temperature and pure anxiety you’ve suffered over the past two hours.
The man squints at you. “Do you have a pass?” Great.
You sigh. “No, his manager, Jeffrey, has my pass. I’m Harry’s girlfriend. Look, you can go and ask on your walkie talkie. I have ID, but I don’t have my pass.” You try to explain.
He shakes his head, tries to hide the amusement on his face. “Nice try, kid. Go home.” He turns his back, wandering away but you shake your head and follow after him.
“No, I’m being serious! Jeffrey has my backstage pass. My phone is dead so I can’t contact them! Please, just radio it through. I promise you! My name is Y/N Y/L/N, please. He’ll tell you!” You beg, tears pooling in your eyes in panic.
This can’t be happening, how has it even come to this? You’ve been through the works already, and now, you look like nothing more than a desperate fangirl.
“Listen, miss. If you don’t leave right now, we will escort you out ourselves or call the police. It’s your choice.” He all but growls his words, an effort to scare you off.
Your shoulders slump and tears spill from your eyes, anxiety consuming you. “This isn’t happening,” you whisper to yourself, breathing unevenly and your knees buckle slightly.
You can’t even go back to the hotel as you don’t know where you’re all staying, seeing as you stayed with your parents last night. You’re done for.
You’re about to turn away, search for someone with a charger maybe, when a ruckus of cheering and talking catches your ears and the doors to the arena open. Hundreds of people flood out of the doors, eager to get themselves home and you wonder how you’re going to get to Harry.
“Oh my God! It’s Y/N!” Is all it takes for everyone to spot you and scream, hurtling toward you and calling your name.
You grab the security guard's arm and frantically beg for his attention. “Now do you believe me!? Please!” You cry out, but he continues to look at you sceptically as the other security members calm down the fans.
You try to talk to the fans, to have them prove that you were Harry’s girlfriend. And even though they agree and show security pictures and proof, they refuse to let you back because you don’t have a pass.
“Here, use my phone to call someone!” An older woman from behind security offers you her phone, her daughter (you presume) staring up at you with big doe eyes.
You smile and take the mobile, punching in Harry’s number that you’ve had memorised for moments like this. You ignore the security guard that continues to ask you to leave and when the ringing stops and a ruckus on the other end is heard, you let out a sigh of relief.
“Hello?” Harry answers, sceptical from the other end.
“Harry! Oh thank God, it’s Y/N.” You sigh out in relief, the fans screaming when they hear you on the phone with him.
“Babe, what the fuck is going on? I’ve been trying to call you! Where are you?” His words are laced together in panic and you can hear him shushing his team.
You sigh. “I’ll explain later but I’m with your fans outside the doors and security won’t let me through to you because Jeffrey still has my pass.” You explain, pinching the bridge of your nose.
Harry tells you to sit tight and that he’ll fix it, tells you he loves you and ends the call. You sigh in relief and quickly delete the number from the call log, handing the phone back to the woman and thanking her profusely.
You feel awful, really. It’s bad enough that you missed Harry’s show, but now you’re holding up all of his fans from going home because security is keeping them away from you and not letting you through the doors.
You speak to a few of his fans while you wait, asking how they found the show and answering some of their questions about Harry when another scream is heard and Jeffrey wanders out toward you with a security guard.
“Y/N!” He calls out, speaking with the other security for a second before showing them your pass and explaining you are who you said you are.
You say goodbye to the fans, dragging your suitcase over to Jeffrey and he pulls you in for a hug, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. You thank him and wave goodbye, following him through a hallway and you disappear.
“What the hell happened?” Jeffrey asks in concern, brows furrowed and you sigh while explaining about your car, the trains, and your phone. Jeffrey listens closely and throws his arm over your shoulder as you walk, pulling your suitcase along.
Security leads you through another corridor and another, opening doors and scanning his ID on certain parts to gain access. A few minutes of walking and a burst of soft laughter can be heard, your heart skipping a beat.
Jeffrey's hand rests against your back as he leads you through a room and another curtain, and there Harry stands; pacing back and forth and biting at his nails. The sound of the door opening catches his attention and he spins around to you.
“Honey...” he whispers, pacing toward you and scooping you into his arms. You sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, crying softly into his shoulder. Harry cradles the back of your head, gently cooing you and whispering reassuring words into your ear.
“You’re okay, baby.” He whispers, kissing your temple and you pull away sniffling, wiping your eyes and taking a deep breath. Harry cups your clammy cheeks in his hands and leans down a little. You lift onto your tiptoes and kiss his lips softly, not even a little bothered by the taste of sweat on his lips.
You sigh into the kiss, eyes fluttering closed and a cheeky wolf whistle from behind him catches your attention. You pull away and peer over his shoulder, blushing at the sight of his entire team grinning at you both and Lloyd facing his camera at you.
//
You’re curled into Harry’s side as you wander down the hall to find his room. His arm is around your shoulder, yours behind his waist as he pulls your little suitcase along.
His skin is still sticky with sweat and his clothes stained with a salty scent, but somehow, he still smells like vanilla and his stupid cologne. “I can’t believe you had to do all that,” he murmurs out after having listened to your travels of the day.
You hum back and yawn, pulling away from his side when he reaches into his pocket for his key-card. You both stand outside the room before he unlocks the door and he drags you in behind him.
You flop straight onto the bed, the sheets still a mess and Harry’s suitcase sprawled out over it. He sighs and kicks off his boots, wiggling his toes and standing between your legs.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” he says softly, head tilted as he watches you sit back up and take his hand in yours. “You wanna join?” he wiggles his brows playfully and you let out a tired laugh, nodding your head nonetheless.
“You go ahead, I’m gonna put my phone on charge and clear the bed.” You tell him, earning a little nod and a forehead kiss before he’s taking off to the bathroom, turning on the water.
You stand from the bed with a sigh and plug Harry’s charger into your phone while kicking your own shoes off. Your feet were no doubt blistered and you knew it’d be a pain to walk for the next few days.
Looking back at the bed, you sigh. Harry had always been messy when it came to getting ready for events. But you weren’t sure why, considering he had a stylist so Harry never had to find something to wear for his shows.
Nevertheless, you shake your head and begin to refold his clothing, setting it neatly in his suitcase. You brush the creases out of the sheets and fluff up the pillows before making your way to your bag to pull out your toiletries and one of Harry’s shirts you’ll sleep in.
You take them with you to the bathroom, soft melodies slipping past Harry’s lips as he washes the night away. You smile to yourself, the mirror and windows fogged by the heat of the shower that you’re eager to climb into.
You strip from your outfit and open the shower door, Harry turning to look at you with a little mohawk he’d styled with the shampoo. You snort out a laugh and shake your head, standing in front of him so the water falls down on you.
“Well, hello there,” Harry grins cheekily, eyeing your breasts as your nipples pearl. You blush and lean your head back, soothing the water through your hair but Harry can’t keep his eyes off your chest, not when it’s right there.
“Stop staring.” Your eyes are closed as you massage the shampoo into your scalp, but you already know he’s drooling at the sight of you. He always did have a thing for your chest, even if you argued they’re not your best asset.
Harry whines and nibbles on his plump bottom lip. “But, baby, they’re like begging me to love on them.” He argues, paw-like hands holding your waist as his thumbs gently caress the bottom of your breasts.
You snort out another laugh at his reasoning and wash the shampoo away, slathering on some conditioner and turning you both around so he’s now under the water. You guide him to sit on the little seat beneath the shower and adjust the head so the water can reach him.
Harry’s face is now completely level with your chest as you wash the shampoo from his hair. He whines at you with a little pout and you gently massage his scalp with your fingertips.
“I know this usually makes me really sleepy, but with your tits in my face, it's really fucking turning me on.” He rasps out, voice low and suggestive and you have to fight back a little whine of your own.
“You’re such a boy.” You breathe, slathering his luscious locks in your conditioner and leaning down just enough to kiss his swollen lips.
It was only intended to be a peck, but Harry wraps his arms around your middle and pulls you between his legs, lifting your thighs so you straddle his lap.
Your fingers slide through his curls, breathing heavily and you moan softly against his lips. His hands smooth over the curves of your ass, kneading the flesh with little force and you pull away to catch your breath.
“I’m proud of you.” You whisper against his lips, your core bumping the head of his cock and he strains out a laugh.
“You’re proud of me? Babe, you got lost on your own, almost got kicked out of the arena, and you didn’t have a panic attack once. Shit, I’m the proud one here.” Harry argues with a little smile.
You purse your lips to hide your smile and kiss his lips softly again. He kisses you back for a moment before pulling away and squeezing your ass.
“But seriously, I’ve had a raging boner ever since you sent me that naughty pic last night, and I am dying to get lost in that puss-” You cut him off with a heated kiss, sucking his tongue into your mouth as your own massaged it.
Harry groans and lifts you both, your legs around his waist as his heavy cock bumps your ass. Your back presses against the shower wall, Harry’s lips chasing the water that drips down your neck.
You tug on his hair, eager to feel him inside you and you know he’ll be giving you what you both want in a matter of seconds. He holds you up with one arm and uses his free hand to grip his cock, pumping himself before he swirls his tip around your entrance.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” Harry whines out, teasing himself against you and you huff, tugging on his hair and sucking his bottom lip into your mouth.
“I feel better once you’re in me,” you remind him, a taunting smirk on your lips, but it’s quick to fade when Harry thrusts his hips into yours, his thick cock stretching you out and you shriek in pleasure.
“Shit, H.” You moan, head thrown back as he slides in and out of you at a delicious pace. The running water is long forgotten, the sound of skin slapping and your arousal squelching being the only sounds you can focus on.
Harry pants in your ear, small grunts sounding through the bathroom as you whine and moan for him. He grabs your ass and spreads your cheeks, knuckles white as he grips you harder.
“So good, baby.” He moans into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe and your eyes roll back.
You can feel him deep in your stomach, feel him throb between your walls and you’re certain you’re about to explode any second. You grip his shoulders, circling your hips on his dick the best you can.
Harry rests his forehead against yours, his eyes focusing on the way his glistening cock slips in and out of your swollen pussy with such ease. “Such a good girl for me.” Harry praises, your pussy clenching around his cock and he chokes out a moan.
“Only for you. O-only good for y-you,” he grins against your lips and picks up his pace, hitting your G-spot with every soul-shattering thrust.
Harry feels you begin to spasm, can feel your body losing its strength and he cups your face with his hands, forcing you to look at him -- your noses bumping while he does so.
“Look at me, baby. Wanna watch you as you cum all over my cock.” He gently coaxes, pinching your nipple with his other hand and your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets.
“I’m gonna cum,” you cry out, eyes wide and jaw slack. Harry watches you with hooded eyes, jade clouded with lust and with one final thrust, he pushes you over the edge, watching the way your eyes roll to the back of your head and body falls limp.
The choked cry of his name is all it takes for him to paint your walls with his pleasure, a rugged groan slipping past his lips as he cries out your name, collapsing slightly into you and trapping you completely against the wall.
“Holy shit,” you breathe out, head falling back against the tiles on the wall and Harry gently eases out of you, slowly kissing every inch of your face before his lips meet yours in a tender encounter.
“I love you so much,” he breathes against your lips, easing your legs back to the ground and keeping his arms around your waist.
“I love you, too. And hey, I might’ve missed your main show but fuck me, this private show was just as good.” You joke, an angelic laugh sounding through Harry’s throat as he kisses you again.
His arms ease to rest on your ass, soothing over the tender skin he had been gripping. “Let me clean you up,” he mumbles, giving your bum a little tap before he pulls you back under the water.
Harry washes both of you, peppering your skin with gentle kisses before you’re both completely clean and drying off, brushing your teeth side by side. Harry throws on a pair of sweats while you steal a pair of his boxers and his shirt.
Sliding into bed, he curles up behind you, spooning your back and kissing your shoulder. “I’m sorry about missing your show and being so stupid that I got on the wrong trains and stuff.” You huff out.
Harry shakes his head and kisses your shoulder again. “Don’t be. None of it is your fault. Jeffrey should’ve given you that backstage pass yesterday. I’m sorry you had to go through all that on your own, but I’m so fucking proud of you, honey.”
You smile to yourself and hold his hand close to your chest, wiggling back so you’re snug against his chest. “I’m so happy I fell in love with you,” you whisper into the darkness, eyes fluttering closed.
Harry smiles into your hair, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest as he kisses the crook of your neck. “I’m happy I fell in love with you, too.”
//
if you enjoyed it, please give it a reblog! your feedback and comments are appreciated more than you’ll ever know — i’d love to hear what you thought <;3
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#imagine harry styles#harry styles x you#harry styles smut#harry styles x reader#harry styles fic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst
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Can you please write one where harry and reader, who is apart of the love band, being together and they get married without the media and the fans finding out. So when he is introducing the band he introduces her as mrs. Styles and everyone freaks out?
a/n: hiii friends! it's been a while but I am here to share another story. originally this was supposed to be something short and sweet but here is 9k of a new story I hope you enjoy 💜💜💜
+
Harry had fallen in love with her from the moment he saw her though he can’t say the same for Y/N. He knew it was foolish to call it love when all he knew was her name. He fell in love with how she got lost on stage playing each song. It was something he wanted to never forget. When Jeff told Harry he was going to meet Y/N, he froze and almost decided to leave, but he knew he had to see her and hear her voice because if he didn’t, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.
The reason Harry was here tonight at the Roxy was because he was forming his band. He was in the middle of writing an album, and Jeff thought she would be the perfect addition. Harry didn’t know then how meeting Y/N would change his life. Harry loved telling this story to anyone who asked how they first met. It’s one he’s said during the production of his first album endless times and during interviews.
He walked up to Y/N, smiling, but it dropped when she turned around, and his eyes caught the grin she was giving him. Instead, he dropped her gaze to rest on her collarbones, where a delicate pearl necklace rested. Harry knew he was admiring her necklace, but to everyone else, it looked like he was admiring her chest. Harry only realized when Jeff nudged him. Y/N didn’t say a word, only told Harry it was great to meet him and looked forward to hearing his music.
“There is no music yet,” he told her honestly.
“What is there?” She asks, looking at him curiously.
“Heart and soul,” he confesses.
“Well, Harry. I look forward to joining you in the studio if that’s alright.”
Harry quickly nods his head. “Tomorrow if you’d like.”
Y/N shares a look with Jeff, who only shrugs, “if that’s what you’d like.” She’s called away, and Harry knows he will be counting down the minutes until he sees her tomorrow. She leans close to him, and Harry relishes her sweet cherry smell. “Next time you want to stare at my boobs, maybe don’t make it so obvious.”
Harry pulls away, shocked, at a loss for words, unable to defend himself.
“See you, Harry.” She sends him a smile that makes him feel warm, and he tries his best to commit it to memory.
Jeff claps his shoulders, unable to contain his laughter, “man, you’re down bad.”
“I’m in love,” he breathes out.
“You’re insane. That’s what you are. No way Y/N will ever date you,” Jeff laughs, but Harry is determined.
Harry shakes his head, “I’ll be sure to remember that at our wedding, where you will not be invited.”
Safe to say, Harry had to work hard for her love, but he never regretted it. Not one single moment because it led him to be loved by her.
+
After that studio session, Harry had no shame in asking Y/N to join his team as a writer and guitarist. She told him she’d think about it, and with the fear that her answer would be no, Harry got on his knees and begged her to say yes. She couldn’t even hold in her laugh. “Jeff thought you’d do something like this, but I assured him you’d be professional.”
Harry laughs awkwardly on his knees, looking up at her. “Is that a yes?”
Y/N shakes her head at Harry’s antics. “Yes, Styles. I’ll join this team.” Harry gets up and hugs her tightly. “With one request,” she voices.
“Anything. Absolutely anything.” Harry promised. He would give her the moon or a million dollars if she wanted.
“Sarah Jones. She has to be brought on as your drummer.” Y/N sighs then, “I don’t know if she’d say yes, but you’d be a fool not to ask.”
And like that, Harry had three members in his band.
Mitch would be hired a week later.
From there, the four of them became the best of friends. While Harry was enraptured around Y/N, trying his best to spend time with her, he missed seeing the sparks fly around Sarah and Mitch. Harry was busy when they arrived from Jamaica, having no time for the band, which broke his heart. He loved seeing them and getting dinner with them but promoting a new album was no joke.
His new friend Mitch was living in his old flat. Mitch quickly got on with Harry’s friends, but soon enough, even they did not see him. It was then he found out how Mitch was always getting dinner with Sarah, and Y/N would join occasionally. Harry knew he was more than welcome, but with the single releasing soon and tour rehearsal starting, he knew he’d seen her more than enough.
They had been rehearsing for a few days when Y/N walked into the studio in tears. Harry quickly rushed over to her, leaving Jeff to speak to himself. He looked her over and found her unharmed, but he still took her in his arms, assuring her she was okay. Harry knew it was bad because she didn’t even push him away.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he kept repeating. At this point, he wasn’t sure if it was more for him or her.
Y/N pushed him away after a few minutes. Sarah was beside her, slipping her hand around her waist to support her. “My guitar was stolen,” she mutters. “I-I-I went for coffee in the shop down the street, and when I returned, my window was smashed. They only took the guitar, nothing else,” Y/N cries.
Harry feels his heartbreak for Y/N. During a restless night in Jamaica, she shared how it was her grandfather’s guitar. He gave her lessons from a young age, and her mother hated it because she always had a new cut or callous. It was a big part of her childhood, and when Y/N shared she wanted to pursue music as a career, her grandfather was the first to support her. He gifted her the guitar knowing she would produce magic with it, and he wasn’t wrong. Y/N created beautiful melodies for his first album with that guitar, the Fender J Bass American Deluxe. The one her grandfather, played on his wedding day.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he voices, knowing this heartbreak is not something he can heal. Harry immediately sends a message to all the crew and friends in the area to see if they spot her missing guitar or see someone with her guitar case. Harry tells the band they’ll meet tomorrow instead, and she is quick to disagree, stating she can play, but he promises her it’s okay. “Jeff was telling me about this meeting I have to attend.”
Jeff nods, frowning at Y/N. The band gathers around Y/N, and they’re quick to have her laughing, promising to take her to lunch.
“Y/N, your car? Is it okay?” Harry asks, knowing it can’t be safe to drive with broken glass.
“Huh,” she turns to him, confused. “Oh, uh. I drove it here. The backseat is full of glass, and I didn’t even think of anything I needed to fix.”
Harry waves her off, “I know a guy. He can take it to the mechanic. I’ll make sure to have it dropped off at your flat.”
“Harry, I couldn’t–”
He cuts her off. “Please, it’s the least I can do.” Harry knows he shouldn’t feel guilty, but if he hadn’t scheduled a band practice, then her guitar wouldn’t have been in her car and therefore stolen. Sarah assures him she’ll get Y/N home.
Y/N walks out with the band all crowding around her, and Harry knows she’s in safe hands. It doesn’t hurt that he wishes he was the one comforting her, but it’s true he has business to take care of. She just doesn’t know it’s all for her.
After the hell of the day, she had Y/N went home and cried some more. It was well into the evening when she got a text from Harry that her car would be dropped off soon. She was thankful. He was kind enough to help her. She knows other bosses would be rude and awful, but not in this industry with Harry as her boss. She opens her door to find a young man with a key in one hand and a guitar case in the other.
“That mine?” She points at it, confused.
The young fellow shrugs, “you Y/N?”
She nods silently.
“Then it’s yours.”
Y/N takes it from him, bidding the man goodnight after checking her car was out front. She hurries inside, curious as to why they also sent a guitar. She opens it up and gasps. In the case is a yellow semi-hollow Epiphone Jack Casad. She told Harry this was a dream guitar she was saving up for during their first studio session. Her name is engraved on the top of the guitar in beautiful handwriting. Y/N is careful to pick it up and is mesmerized by how nice it is. To no surprise, it’s a perfect fit in her hands, as if it was made for he
Y/N
I know there is no replacing the guitar you lost, but I was having this one made for you as a thank you for creating this album with me. I couldn’t have done it without you. Hope we can continue to create music together, and if not, because you’re too talented to stick around with someone like me, I hope you take this gift as an appreciation for my love for you.
Love, H
Harry was thinking about her because she knows a guitar takes months to make. Y/N appreciated it more than he knew. Y/N would spend the night playing with the guitar until it felt like hers. When she showed up the next day with the guitar, no one dared to say a word, but between the looks Y/N and Harry shared, they all knew.
That note would be the first sign that Y/N picked up on that maybe, just maybe, Harry liked her as more than a friend.
+
The album was well received, and Harry was over the moon. The first shows were nerve-wracking, but having Y/N there calmed him. She gave him pep talks assuring him that the fans would love him, and love him they did. They screamed his songs back to him, and it was easy to get lost in the feeling of being on stage. Before he knew it, they were taking off on a sold-out tour across Europe and North America.
He had started writing his second album with the help of the team and Y/N. She brought a beautiful melody, and it’s how the start of “Sunflower” kicked off the first song on the track though it would undergo various changes. He loved being in the studio with Y/N because she brought these ideas and perspectives he had never thought of. She was the heart of the album. Touring and writing with Y/N was a dream come true.
Harry was having the time of his life, but Y/N still paid him no mind. She acted as if there was nothing between them, like there was no spark, which drove him crazy. Harry watched as Mitch and Sarah fell in love, and he wanted that. He craved it with Y/N, with only her. The fact that he couldn’t have her weighed heavy on him, and it got worse when he heard rumors of Y/N going on dates. It broke him because he loved her, and she only saw him as a friend. They spent every free moment together, so the fact that she didn’t share she was seeing someone hurt because, at the end of the day, he wanted to see her happy.
He wasn’t proud of what he did next.
There was woman after woman he brought to the show. Harry didn’t know what Y/N thought, but he slowly began to pull away, needing to get lost in someone else; even if it was for an hour, Y/N could consume his thoughts for the other 23 hours. Harry wanted her to want him, to miss him, so he began bailing on lunch with her, not including her in conversations. He thought she didn’t care because she had no response. She treated him the same with a friendly smile and easy conversation.
Harry didn’t notice the change in her because he was too focused on the new person he was bringing around. If he got his head out of his ass, he would have seen every sad look Y/N shot his way. Or how Sarah urged her to talk to him, but Y/N would walk away. He didn’t see that she was slowly pushing away from not only him but the band. That she thought her days were numbered.
It wasn’t until she fell sick that Jeff told her that her backup would be able to cover for her for however long she needed. That was all the confirmation she needed to know Harry was replacing her. It broke her, but it was his band, after all.
Harry was ready to perform, huddled in the circle with the band, when he looked across from him to find unfamiliar eyes. He looked around but saw every member of his band except for her. His heart rate increased, and Harry knew he had lost her.
Sarah met his gaze and took pity on him, “she’s sick.”
At that moment, Harry wanted to cancel the show and run to her side, ensuring she was alright, but he couldn’t. He was sure it was the worst show of his life, but he didn’t have time for Jeff or anyone to give him shit for it. When he was off the stage, he drove to their hotel and pounded on her hotel room door. Then suddenly stopped when he realized that wouldn’t help her.
The door creaked open, and there was Y/N with a red nose and sleepy eyes.
“Hi, petal,” he greets softly, knowing he has to tread carefully.
She rubbed her eyes as if trying to see if he was actually there. “Harry?”
“It’s me. Can I come in?”
Y/N doesn’t respond. She steps back, opening the door wider. She locks it behind him and crawls back into bed. She tells him to stay away because he has a show tomorrow, and he knows she’s right, but he doesn’t care. He sits at the foot of her bed.
“How are you feeling?”
Y/N rolls her eyes, “I’ve been better.”
Harry hates this lingering tension. “Sorry, you felt you couldn’t tell me.”
She shrugs, “Jeff didn’t want to get you sick.”
“You’ve never gone through, Jeff before,” he reminds her.
“That was before,” Y/N muttered.
Harry sulks, letting his shoulders drop in frustration. “What you goin’ on about?”
“The fact that I’m getting sacked,” she tells him, never one to beat around the bush.
“Sorry,” he can’t believe what she is saying. “I would never.”
She scoffs, clearly not believing him. “Don’t have to lie to me. Very convenient that your friend is my replacement tonight. We clearly know I’m replaceable.”
“Don’t you dare say that,” his voice firm. He had never seen her as replaceable. His heart breaks thinking about doing a tour without her. “You created this band. I wouldn’t be having the time of my life on stage if you weren’t there next to me. You’re my best friend.”
Y/N has turned away from him, and as much as he hates it, he respects her enough to let her be. “Some way to show it,” she murmurs.
Harry hates that her voice is so weak and timid around him. She’s never once taken his shit, but here he is on the verge of losing her. “I-I,” he sighs. “I’ve fucked up badly.”
“I get that you’re dating and such, but when you start acting like a dick and treating others like they’re beneath you, that’s when you know you’ve lost against the industry.” He lets her words sink in. “I feel like I’ve lost you.”
A direct hit to the heart.
“You did nothing wrong,” Harry assures her. Y/N motions for him to explain. “I was going through shit and felt selfish going to you for help. You’ve seen me through a lot, and I didn’t want to add more,” he lies. Harry is full of lies, but he can’t tell her he loves her. Not like this. “It was easier to get lost around others that don’t care about me.”
Y/N turns to look at him. Her tired eyes are locked with his, and he knows she’s trying to read him. That he’s an open book for her, he always has been. She won’t find anything at this moment because he knows he has to bury his love for her deep inside if he wants to keep her.
“Y/N, I’m sorry for icing you out. I’m sorry for not showing you I care. You’re always my number one since the moment you entered my life. I would never dream of kicking you out of your band. I will understand if you want to leave but know you will always have a spot here with me.
“Well fuck you first,” she tells him outright. “I’m not going anywhere. I just needed you to get your head out of your ass. Though if you ditch me for a groupie, I’ll cut off your dick.”
Harry shakes his head, not surprised at all by her words. This is his girl.
“Don’t worry, you’ll always be my favorite girl.”
Those words settle deep in Y/N’s heart. When Harry pulled away from her, Y/N swore she felt a crack in her heart because it was sinking in that she was losing him, but she didn’t understand why it hurt so much to be replaced.
It wasn’t until later that night after she kicked him out of her room to stay away until she felt better she received a basket of her favorite teas and snacks from home. Even a few books she had been eyeing but had not had the time to buy. It’s when Y/N began to realize that she was in love with him. Though she had no idea how he could feel, she did the only thing she could do. She packed those feelings in a box and moved on.
+
Real World Studio was a dream to work at, and it was even better because he had his friends with him. Harry usually could not keep his eyes off Y/N, but tonight he wished she was anywhere but here. After seeing her on a date last night, he was fuming, and he knew it was dumb to ignore her. It was impossible in the studio. Y/N had her guitar in her lap, and it was this beautiful melody someone could get lost in. Except, he wouldn’t take the time to give it a full listen.
“H, just give it a listen,” she pleads, knowing her song's potential.
Harry exhales, “nothing special, it doesn’t fit.”
Y/N feels her anger rise at his dismissal but decides better than to argue with him. She goes to the corner of the room, dropping her guitar, not wanting the memory of Harry for the moment, and picks up Mitch’s spare. She doesn’t notice when Mitch sits next to her. Too lost in her head, cursing Harry out.
“Y/N,” she looks up at him. “It’s good.” Having heard the song a few times, Mitch now plays it on his guitar, and Y/N can’t help the smile that takes over her face. Mitch’s talent is undeniable.
Harry perks up, calling out Mitch’s name to play that song again. “Come on, Mitch, again.”
Mitch grimaces, “H, it’s—”
“Again,” Harry requests.
Mitch does as he asks but only gets a few notes in when Y/N stomps over to him. She pushes him hard, causing him to stumble. The entire room falls silent. Harry feigns confusion, not knowing what he did wrong.
“You’re an arrogant son of a bitch,” she spits angrily. Y/N walks out of the studio with her head held, and Harry deflates, knowing he went too far.
“Man, what’s up with you? That’s—you have never treated any of us like that,” Sammy tells him, confused.
Harry throws his notebook across the room in frustration, “Y/N has a fucking boyfriend and hasn’t told me. Saw her having dinner last night.”
Mitch scoffs, “so that gives you permission to be a dick.”
Sammy laughs, Harry whips his head to look at him and is about to tell him to shut up when Sammy drops a bomb on him. “I went to dinner with her last night.” Harry feels his anger bubble. “I have this friend that wants to work with her.”
Harry backs down, shoulders slumping, “I’m a dick,” he agrees.
“Think you should go find her,”
“And say what?” He looks at them for answers.
“Sorry, is a good start,” Tyler offers.
Mitch shakes his head, “he can never admit he’s sorry or that he’s the jealous type.”
Harry walks out knowing they aren’t any help but knows he does have to apologize. Y/N doesn’t deserve how he treated her. The good thing Y/N didn’t go far; she’s sitting on the hood of her car staring at the night sky.
“Y/N,” he calls out to not startle her.
“Thought you’d come out sooner,” she sasses.
He exhales, “The boys were chewing me out.”
“Hmm…”
Harry stands before her, and regret is written all over his face. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I was an asshole for my own stupid reasons.”
“Okay,” she mutters.
He takes a step closer, his hands resting on her thighs. “I’m just a jealous son of a bitch and took it out on you. I’m sorry, you’re my favorite person, and that’s no excuse for treating you this way.”
She smirked, hearing him repeat her earlier words she screamed in the heat of her anger. “I put up with a lot of your crap.”
“And I’m grateful,” he promises her.
“Maybe too much,” she teases.
Harry knows she’s right. “Then don’t anymore.”
“Fine.”
“Fine,” he repeats.
“Leave then,” she waves him off, and something inside him snaps. Her words don’t hold malice, and he’s not leaving without her. They both know that.
He steps between her legs, not giving her any room to escape him. Y/N looks at him with wide eyes, uncertain of his next move. Harry pushes a few strands of her hair back. His eyes fall down to her lips and then move back up. Before he can convince himself otherwise, Harry leans in, pressing his lips against Y/N’s. He feels her tense up, but she melts into him within the next few seconds. He leads the kiss in a steady rhythm allowing himself to get to know what she likes. It feels like coming home, and he wonders how he went so long without tasting her. He knows one will never be enough; he wants more. Harry wants all her kisses.
Y/N pulls away breathless, one look at her face, and Harry knows she’s panicking. It’s settling in quick, but Harry has always been able to calm her, a special trick he’s learned for years of knowing her. His take will be slightly different tonight.
“Y/N I l–” Y/N stops him.
“Please,” she pleads. Begging him not to say it. Harry sighs, taking a step back.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he promises.
Harry walks her back to the hotel for the night with the promise of breakfast together. He hopes breakfast happens, but part of him knows it won’t happen. The following day he was informed she had checked out. All that was left was a note saying she was sorry and that she would call him soon. That same night he was on a flight to Japan.
After all, there’s an album to finish.
+
Two weeks in Japan weren’t enough to heal his heartbreak, but it was the perfect place to meet friends, try good food, and write new songs. He had written five new ones, and though he knew some might not make it to the album now, maybe they would for the next one.
His birthday had come along, and he spent it alone reading in a cafe. Harry got endless texts from his family wishing him a happy day, but there was one person he hoped would call. Except that she didn’t. Everyone told him to move on, but he wanted to grieve this love because Y/N wasn’t just anybody to him. She was the one. He’s willing to fight for her because he knows what it’s like to live without her and hates it. Harry misses her, but he’s also hurt.
It was early morning when there was a loud knock on his door. He stumbled out of bed in no rush to open his door. After a surprise party last night, he allowed himself to have one too many shots and now is paying the price for it. Y/N always reminded him to have some water and a Tylenol before bed on nights they went drinking.
Harry swung his door open, expecting to see Tom or Tyler but standing in front of him was Y/N. A timid smile was on her face, a large duffel hanging off her shoulder and a gift bag in her hand.
“Hi, Harry,” she broke the silence after a few seconds (minutes, he couldn’t be sure.) “I-I’m sorry to show up announced. Uh–Gems convinced me it would be a good idea.”
He has no idea why he’s here, and he can’t even ask her why she’s here because it seems he has lost the ability to speak. He never imagined her coming to Japan for him.
“I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry for stopping you from saying something you probably have held in for a long time.” She pauses, looking around her, nervous someone could overhear her. That’s when Harry realizes they’re standing at his doorway.
Wordlessly he moves aside to let her in. Harry locks the door behind her as she drops her bag and presents by the door. Y/N takes her time slipping off her shoes. He can spot her hands shaking but doesn’t dare comment on it.
“Harry,” she says his name with so much love it gives him a glimmer of hope. “I love you,” she shouts.
Harry was not prepared for her confession. He wasn’t prepared for her. “And I think you love me?” She questions.
Harry doesn’t answer.
Y/N looks around the room nervously. This is not how she pictured the moment on the flight here. Sure, she wasn’t expecting the warmest greeting, but she also didn’t expect silence. Y/N was not sure how to go from here. Before she can begin to think about how bad of an idea this is, Harry takes a step forward; she doesn’t dare move away. He stops until there is no space between them.
There are two things he could tell her: one would make her the happiest person alive, and the other has the possibility of breaking her. Except, there’s a third option she wasn’t thinking about because Harry was never good with his words. He always thought actions speak louder than words, so he leaned in and kissed her. This kiss was soft and full of love, nothing like their first kiss. Harry was gentle with her, like if he was rougher, she’d break or disappear. Y/N lets herself fall into Harry as he explores her mouth, their mouths moving in perfect unison until he breaks away, giving her a chance to catch her breath. Even then, he doesn’t move far away; he kisses every inch of her face until Y/N breaks into a fit of laughter due to the brush of his stubble on her skin, something he was letting grow during his time here.
“I love you,” Harry tells her. It’s the first time he’s said it out loud, but it doesn’t feel like the first time, not when he’s loved her for years. “I have loved you from the very first day.”
Y/N slaps his shoulder playfully, “shut up, Harry.” She doesn’t believe him. Why would she? Y/N was a stranger, but the first time he saw her, Harry felt like he had arrived home. He was united with someone who had been missing from him all his life.
“Will never shut up,” Harry promises. “Not when I get to tell you I love you every day, every hour, every minute.”
“I’m sorry for the wait,” she holds his face in her hands, taking in his beautiful green eyes staring at her with so much love that she feels she might explode.
“You will always be worth the wait. Always, Y/N.”
+
December 13th had finally arrived.
“Are you really doing this?” Harry asks nervously on the chair next to her.
Y/N rolled her eyes, “I told you I would.”
“Tattoos are forever,” he reminds her.
Mateo, her tattoo artist, places the stencil on her ribs as Harry checks in for the tenth time to see if she really wants to be tattooed. “The cherries on my ass are a good reminder I know what I’m doing.”
Harry sinks back in his chair, defeated. “It’s just this is permanent. These are my lyrics going into your skin forever.”
“Oi, give me some credit, would you? Worked on these songs with you. This one is special. I want it with me forever,” Y/N vows.
Today, his second album Fine Line was released for the world to hear. Every time he released music, he gave a bit of himself away from Lights up to Cherry; these were his stories on love, identity, and heartbreak. Harry knows he didn’t do it alone, but his fans don’t care for the process; they want the stories and meanings of each song. He won’t give them that, not now, not ever. Y/N, his guitar player and now also his girlfriend, was getting a tattoo in honor of the second album they have written together being released.
“I thought you’d get a sunflower tattooed or even a watermelon,” he smirks at the last suggestion.
Y/N scoffs, “you dirty-minded lover.”
“You love it,” he tells her.
She does. She really does. “Doesn’t matter. I love you. I want to know that no matter what, we’ll be alright. I would go through hell and back for you, so what better way than to get those words that mean so much to me.”
Harry knows there’s no chance she’s leaving without the tattoo, so he relents letting Mateo begin. “I love you.” And that’s enough for now. It seems he will have to get a new tattoo for her seeing as she’d have his handwriting etched in her skin forever.
He was going crazy and set to go on stage in twenty minutes, yet no one could find Y/N. Harry had called her again and again, yet no answer. He knew she hadn’t left the venue, but somehow everyone on staff could not find her. It wasn’t until he found Y/N in a small green room sitting with his special guest of the night, Stevie Nicks. They were lost in conversation and didn’t even hear him come in.
“Y/N,” he breathed out, relieved. He shoots a text to Jeff that he found her.
Y/N grins up at him, and simple as that, all his worry evaporates. “Hi, pretty.”
To no surprise, Harry’s face heats up at the compliment. “Poppet went crazy searching for you.”
Stevie stands up, “oh, that’s my fault. I just had to steal her away. It’s been some time since we’ve been able to catch up. Nice to know you took my advice.”
“Actually, Stevie–” Y/N begins, but Harry interrupts her.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. We’ve got to get Y/N ready to stage soon.” Harry pushes her towards the door.
Y/N makes a show of rolling her eyes and sighing dramatically. “Bye, Stevie, always an honor.”
Harry promises Stevie to see her soon, all while Y/N mutters how she can’t believe he embarrassed her in front of Stevie Nicks. He knows she’s joking but never makes anything easy for him.
“Hey, Y/N?”
“Hmm…”
“I love you,” and like magic, she melts into him, allowing him to take her towards his dressing room as he grabs her in-ears and prepares her to head out on stage.
“Love you, Harry. Proud of you. It’s your big day.” She’s been telling him all week, from listening parties to the Spotify event to last night at 9pm when the album dropped on the West Coast to this very moment.
“Our, our special day,” he reminds her.
Y/N waves him off, “your album. I’m just the guitar player.”
Harry won’t have that. He approaches Y/N, gently lifting her face to look at him. She’s staring at him with those glimmering eyes full of love. “You’re the muse of this album, but you’re also the co-writer. You play a killer solo in She that Mitch is begging for you to let him play. This album is ours, but it is also entirely yours. I am entirely yours.”
Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears. “Ours,” she repeats.
It ends up being a perfect night. A show they’ll go on to share with friends, family, and future generations for years to come.
+
Gearing up for tour after a successful album had everyone buzzing, except everything came to a halt because of a pandemic affecting the entire world. Everyone was taking the needed precautions to keep the safety of others in mind. Harry and Y/N decided to stay with Mitch and Sarah because it was better to be with others during this challenging time.
As awful as everything was in the world, Harry was grateful for the time to flourish his relationship with Y/N.
It gave them a chance to fall more in love with each other. He learned all her childhood stories, and she learned that he was an early riser and liked his coffee dark. They used this time to write an album full of love, longing, and heartbreak. It was their love story in the strangest of ways. He knew the album might not be well received, but he loved it. Most importantly, Y/N loved it, and that’s all that mattered.
They stayed in California with friends for nearly a year until it was safe to fly home. It was then that they knew they would have to split a way to stay with family. Harry was not ready to let her go, not when he had her for all this time. Instead, he followed along to where she called home. Her baby sister was overjoyed to have Y/N home. Lila got to show Y/N all the knitting supplies she had gotten. Even all the plushies she made Y/N because they reminded Lila of her. (The bunny was his favorite, he got to keep it because he asked nicely.) Harry would never forget meeting Lila for the first time, seven years old, and worshiping the ground Y/N walked on. He understood the feeling very well. Y/N had brought her along for a rehearsal and, by the end of the day, had a meltdown because Harry mentioned them leaving for months. Lila begged Y/N not to go, to quit saying that she’d be able to take care of her if she stayed. Harry saw Y/N’s heartbreak and was tempted to step in, but he knew it wasn’t his place.
“I hate you,” the young girl whispered when Y/N rushed off to get tissues. His heart broke knowing he was the reason she was hurting so much. “Fire her, fire my sister,” she pleaded.
Y/N returned with sympathy in her eyes, and Harry knew nothing he could say would make her feel better. “Poppet, you know those are harsh words. We don’t say them unless we mean them.”
“I do. I mean it,” Lila sniffled.
Y/N shook her head, wiping her younger sister’s tears away. “No, you don’t. You know how I know?” Lila shook her head. “Because you’ve got the biggest heart in the entire world. I know there is no way you can hold any darkness in there.”
Lila wraps her arms around Y/N’s neck, and Harry knows he should leave and give them space, but he’s in awe at how well Y/N is validating her sister’s feelings. There’s no telling her to stop crying, only trying to make her understand.
“I’m leaving, poppet. It’s my dream,” Y/N whispered. “I told you stories about being on stage that it’s my second favorite thing to do.”
“First is painting with me?” Lila questions.
Y/N laughs, “you know it.”
“Okay,” Lila hides her face in Y/N’s neck. “I love you.”
Y/N kissed her sister’s cheek. “I love you too.” They squeeze each other tight, relishing in being together. “Now I think you owe someone an apology.”
Lila sighed but did as Y/N requested. She walked towards Harry with Y/N standing behind her. “I’m sorry, Mr. Styles. You have to promise to care for her. She loves tea in the morning with lemon poppy muffins.” Lila shares making Harry and Y/N laugh. He keeps a mental note to make sure it’s always available for her during tours and meetings.
Harry kneels down to be at Lila’s level, knowing it will make them at an even level. “I promise to look after her. If you ever need her home, all you have to do is call, and I’ll have her on the first flight back to you.”
Lila's eyes widen in surprise, “you can do that?”
“I’m the boss,” he whispers.
Y/N rolls her eyes at him, but mouths thank you.
Harry kept true to his word, there was only one time when Lila called, and that’s all Y/N needed to say for him to assure her that it was okay to go. He went as far as buying her a first-class plane ticket. Lila fell, broke her arm, and needed her sister home. She was gone for five days, the longest days of his life, but when she returned, Y/N gave him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. It’s something he will never forget.
Now at twelve years old, Lila “tolerated” Harry. Y/N told him Lila was joking, but a part of him knew it was true he had taken her favorite person away. Harry knew he’d be heartbroken having Y/N leave him and hated that he made Lila experience that time and time again.
“You break her heart, Harry, and I break you,” she threatened with her fist in the air.
“Woah, there, Rambo. No need to defend my honor,” Y/N giggled. “Just because you’re doing kickboxing classes doesn’t mean you need to go punching anyone.”
“I will if he makes you cry,” Lila tells her while keeping her eyes on Harry.
He found this amazing because Harry was the younger sibling. He knew what it was like wanting to defend his older sister, not that she ever let him. He knew Gemma didn’t need protecting. “If anyone will do any crying, it’s Harry,” Y/N tells her sister. Y/N winks at him before turning her attention back to Lila. “He cries at The Lion King.”
“He does?” Lila says in disbelief.
Harry scoffs playfully, “that was a secret.”
Lila steps forward and taps his hand twice in what he assumes is her way of showing sympathy. “There, there. I understand. Scar is the worst villain. Let’s watch it now.”
She pulls him away as Y/N mouths for him to remember to cry. Harry knew Y/N wanted her favorite people to get along, and if he had to cry during Mufasa’s death to get on a young girl’s good side, then so be it. Harry knows he would do anything for Y/N.
After a few months with Y/N’s family, they traveled to his family. When his mum saw him, she burst into tears and did not let him go for over ten minutes. Y/N got reacquainted with the cats then it was her turn for a long cuddle. His mother was in good hands, but returning home always made him realize how much he has missed.
“Gems has gotten into a puzzle,” Anne shares as she serves them.
Harry laughs, “not surprised.”
“H got really good at poker,” Y/N chimes in.”
“And you miss paint by number,” he teases.
Anne smiled fondly, seeing them tease each other as she took in the love clearly displayed on his face. “I can’t believe you’ve filmed movies.”
Y/N rolls her eyes, “oh, Anne, he’s such a drama queen. Oh, that’s not what I ordered. It was a green smoothie, not pink,” Y/N mimics his accent awfully, making Anne burst out laughing.
“Mum, you’re supposed to be on my side.”
Anne shrugs, “she’s always been my favorite.”
Y/N sticks her tongue at him, happy to return to conversing with Anne. Harry knew his mum was right; she had always been his favorite too.
+
With filming complete and the world a bit safer. It was time to get back on the road. Harry had a completed album that he was not ready to share yet. He wanted to enjoy singing songs from Fine Line before adding more to his setlist. Prepping for this tour, there were many new changes. For one, he hired Pauli Lovegood as his musical director, and the band had never sounded better.
Harry was not surprised to see how well Pauli and Y/N got on. They were two people who instantly clicked when first meeting. Harry had many conversations with Pauli about the band and the chemistry and trust he liked to have on stage. Pauli stated that Y/N was the heart of the band and didn’t even realize it. Harry knew every time he got on stage because she kept him calm and safe each night. Sure, everyone raved about Sarah calling it Sarah’s band, and he didn’t doubt it for a second, but there was a special energy Y/N brought that no one was able to replicate.
“Y/N goes out on stage every night like it might be her last,” Pauli shared after a rehearsal. They just didn’t realize Y/N was behind him listening.
“Is that a bad thing?” Y/N asks.
Pauli shakes their head. “Not at all. It makes your performance special.” He points back to the stage. “Because that was sound check. You played as if the crowd was already here.”
Y/N ducks her head, flustered, not realizing that Pauli was complimenting her.
“Does that mean he won't ever fire me?” Y/N laughs, knowing it’s a dumb question.
Harry swings his hand over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “I’d be an idiot to let you go. You know the only reason you’ll leave this job is if you decide that.”
His words are true. Y/N has had many opportunities and offers to join another band or become a songwriter working with different artists, but it’s not what she wants.
During the tour, Y/N and Harry celebrate two years of dating. It’s a significant milestone for both of them because they had always had a slight fear of commitment, but together forever doesn’t seem long enough. It’s a cold day in November for Los Angeles, but Y/N doesn’t seem to mind since she dragged Harry to Malibu beach with her.
They held hands as they walked down the shore, seagulls flying high and the beach vacant. No one is brave enough to visit the ocean during this cold season. Y/N had told him that water calms her; it reminds her there is so much more to life, and though she might never have the chance to learn about it, the world keeps turning.
“We’re almost going home,” Harry comments.
Home is London, in her small flat, while Harry goes to his large mansion. There are small details they have to work through, seeing as during this entire tour, they have never slept apart, even when Harry manages to push her buttons.
“I’m excited to see Lila,” Y/N tells Harry. She talked to her sister as much as possible, but time zones made it difficult. “She’s grown two more inches, mum said.”
Harry kisses her temple, there is so much they sacrifice for the life they live, but he wouldn’t change it for the world because it led him to Y/N.
“Soon, you’ll see her soon,” he promises. Little does she know that in a few days, time in New York, Y/N will be hugging her sister, and Harry will happily share her because nothing makes him happier than seeing her happy. “I love you, Y/N.”
Y/N nudges his shoulder playfully, “alright, you sap. I love you too. Come on, I'm getting hungry.”
Harry stops walking. She doesn't notice until he has let go of her hand. She looks back at him confused but finds him kneeling on one knee, a small velvet box in his hand. Y/N doesn’t give him a chance to open it when she’s jumping on him, knocking him back into the sand. She’s crying against his chest, whispering yes over and over again.
He laughs, “I haven’t even asked, love.”
She sniffles, “what are you waiting for?”
Harry sits up, but Y/N doesn’t move from her place on his lap, sandy ring box back in his hand. He knows her answer, but his nerves are back, making his hands shake. Y/N notices and grabs his hands, pulling them to her chest. “Y/N, meeting you in 2015, I knew you were special. From our first conversation, I knew I could fall in love with you, and fall I did. It seems I’m still falling even now. You’re the reason the sun rises every morning and why the moon shines bright at night. You’re the reason why I wake up with a smile every day. You make the hard times bearable and the good times memorable. Y/N Y/LN, will you do me the biggest honor and marry me?”
Y/N has endless tears running down her face, but her smile is bright. “Yes, Harry. I will marry you. Forever with you is all I want.”
Harry leans in and kisses his fiancé.
His fiancé.
Y/N is his fiancé.
Anthony and a few friends gather somewhere in the distance, taking photos and videos for them. Y/N lets herself get lost in the feeling of his lips against hers. It’s slow and passionate. They are pouring every ounce of love into each other. This is the start of forever.
“We’re getting married,” she laughs against his lips.
“We are. Today, tomorrow, in a month, a year. Whenever you want, I will marry you,” Harry promises her. He hopes it’s sooner rather than later.
“Let’s go home. I want to celebrate.”
Their family could wait on the news. Tonight was all theirs.
+
On April 29th, 2022, Harry married the love of his life in a private villa in Italy with their closest friends and family. It was the perfect day, the sun shining bright, and the Amalfi ocean gave them a wonderful breeze.
“Today’s the day,” he whispered as Y/N sat in his lap out on the balcony of their room. Everyone told them it was bad luck to see each other before the wedding, but Y/N didn’t believe in superstitions, and Harry couldn’t bring himself to say goodnight to her after their rehearsal dinner.
Y/N sighs, leaning back into him. “Feels like I’ve been waiting for you all my life.”
Harry laughs, “I think I did all the waiting.” From the start, he always thought she’d never see him as anything more, but he is hours away from making her his wife.
“Mhm…you’re right. Sorry for the wait.”
Harry kisses her exposed shoulder. “I’d wait forever for you, my heart.”
Y/N turns, taking in his expressions. Glimmering eyes and a shining smile, he was about to become her husband. “Let’s go get married, Mr. Styles.”
“After you, Mrs. Styles.”
Mr. and Mrs. Styles, it was music to his ears.
After getting married with Sarah as their officiant, and Lila as their flower girl, they had a beautiful reception. There were speeches from Jeff quoting that Harry knew he would marry Y/N from the minute he set eyes on her to Y/N’s mum, Roslyn entrusting Harry to make her little girl happy for the rest of their life. Even Lila got up to the microphone making Harry promise to share Y/N with her still because she was her’s first. Harry assured the young girl he'd do anything Lila asked of him if it made Y/N happy. It was the most beautiful day, one he would never forget.
They went on a month-long honeymoon and returned blissfully happy, ready to perform to thousands of people each night.
The tour began in Glasgow. A sold-out stadium all for him. Harry was ready to share the stage with his wife and best friends. He was prepared to go out and have the time of his life with his fans, but he could not stop crying. Y/N tried her best to comfort him and was doing well, but she was buzzing, wanting to take it all in. He had done this many years ago with four other boys, his brothers. Harry was okay never doing anything at that level again, but here he was about to play his first stadium of many in Europe.
“Y/N does not want to leave the stage,” Luis rushes in, exhausted, knowing it’s a bit of a walk from the dressing room to the stage.
Harry laughs, shaking his head. She told him she loved the stage and didn’t want to be elsewhere. He didn’t really believe her, but Y/N kept true to her words.
“Let’s go get her.”
It turns out Harry had to carry her out. He threw her over his shoulder as she screamed to let her stay. They knew it wasn’t possible with fans about to be let in and the opener set to perform in a few hours. Harry was happy to share these moments with her.
They were preparing for their third sold-out night in Wembley, and Harry was happy because he and Y/N had many friends and family coming out to support them. Harry knows that through the years, the audience has come to love his band, also known as the “Love Band,” while Mitch and Sarah were crowd favorites, and Pauli’s dance move always had the fans screaming it was Y/N who managed to steal everyone’s hearts. She didn’t have to try hard. Y/N had that charm about her, from smiling at fans who locked eyes with her to signs made for her to pose for a fan's camera and especially when she handed out guitar picks at the end of the night. Y/N loved walking down the side to reach the middle, and Harry got to see how each interaction she had with a fan only made her shine brighter.
Today was different; Y/N and Harry sang together during soundcheck. Lila was there and begged for Y/N to sing, then two sisters with similar pouts stared at him, begging him to say yes. There was no telling them no, and Harry sang Sweet Creature with his wife to a young girl who could not stop smiling. Harry was thankful to have Anthony here capturing everything because he knew he wanted to remember this for years to come.
“I’m pretty sure fans heard us,” Y/N tells him as she plays with her ears.
Harry shrugs, “they’ve never heard you sing before.”
“Heyy,” she frowns. “Be nice to your wife.”
He smirks. He will never get tired of hearing that. “My dear wife, I apologize for hurting your feelings. Will you forgive me?”
She taps her lips twice, “kiss?”
He leans in, happy to comply with her wishes. She hums against his lips. Harry is tempted to take it farther but knows there is no time for that now.
“Love you, Y/N. Thank you for sharing the stage with me,” he whispers, feeling overwhelmed.
Y/N grins, “thanks for paying me the big bucks to be here,” she teases.
Harry groans, giving her a loving tap on her butt. “You’re a menace.”
“Yeah, but you love me,” she sing-songs.
“I do. I always will.”
He doesn’t know where life will take him and Y/N, but he knows it will all be alright as long as they are together.
+
A year ago, he played at Wembley stadium and was freshly married. Now he has celebrated his first anniversary and was back to play four sold-out nights. Harry’s House is out to the world and has received so much love from fans to the Grammys. He remembers winning album of the year, the most prestigious award of the night, and how tempted, he was to kiss Y/N there because this album is a love letter to each other. The new album gifted him so much, but there will be nothing better to Harry than sharing the stage with Y/N as he sings songs they wrote together.
“Wembley, the last time I was here wasn’t long ago, but things have changed in my life.” A dramatic pause. “For the better,” he assures the audience. “Thank you for having me back. Now let’s dance.”
The night moves on with Harry coming to bother Y/N more than ever, but she doesn’t mind. She gives it right back before sending him off to bother Mitch, who stays stoic, not letting Harry’s antics bother him. “Now, Wembley, you have been the most amazing crowd tonight.” The screams get louder as they listen to him talk. “But I couldn’t have done this alone.”
Harry introduces the band, going through everyone, purposely skipping Y/N. The band looked around, confused, but Y/N did not take her eyes off Harry, who was stepping closer to her. “Now you all know and love her, give it up for Y/N Styles!” Harry kneels down on a knee gesturing to Y/N.
Y/N smirks as the crowd falls silent, taking in the confession Harry dropped on them. The cameras pan over to her, and she gives a wave with her right hand, her left stays resting on her guitar where she’s sure the fans can see the engagement ring and wedding ring resting on her fourth finger, no longer on a chain around her neck but on display for everyone to see. Harry talked to her about the plan earlier in the day and decided to wear it to show it off.
After a moment, the fans seemed to have processed his words and began to scream and cheer. It’s louder and overwhelming, but Y/N takes it in stride as Harry laughs, looking out at the crowd. Harry brings his microphone up to speak, but the screams get even louder. Y/N shakes her head in disbelief, unable to understand if it’s excitement or shock.
“Sorry,” Harry giggles into the microphone. “I know her as Y/N Styles. Give it up for Y/N Y/LN. But please address her as Y/N Styles. The paperwork was endless,” he jokes to the audience of 90,000.
Sarah gives Y/N a crazed look, but Y/N shrugs. It was bound to come out, but she was glad they had the power to choose how and when. No better place than on stage doing what they both love.
“Alright, alright,” Harry begins trying to settle the cheers, but they are not stopping. It’s been going on for minutes, and Y/N’s just taking it all in, loving the support they are receiving. “Thought you came here for me,” he tries.
Y/N laughs into her microphone, making Harry look at her with a fake pout. “Oh, enjoy this, Y/N. You’re fired.”
She rolls her eyes, knowing he’s joking. The entire band knows he wouldn’t dream of doing this every night without her.
“Do you want a song?” Harry asks his crazed fans.
“Together?” Y/N asks into the microphone. The fans have no idea how to react anymore. This show will be going down in history; that’s all Y/N knows.
She steps close to Harry, who welcomes her in a hug, careful with her guitar.
“Which one, love?” Harry inquires, even though he already knows the song she will pick.
Y/N flashes him a pearled smile, “love of my life.”
Harry looks out at the audience and then turns back to Y/N. He takes her ring hand and kisses her wedding band. “Seems only fitting.”
+
liked by mitchrowland, harrystyles, and 233,804 others
pillowpersonpp she’s a rockstar and a wife
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yourinstagram I LOVE YOU! Thank you for marrying us
pillowpersonpp its the least i could do since you're the reason i met my husband
harryfan1 pause…i did not know this
harryfan2 i would marry her too
mitchrowland the best guitarist!
harryfan3 I love her friendship with y/n
liked by yelyahwilliams, harrystyles and 4,534,266 others
yourinstagram officially the better styles
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annetwist a wonderful addition to the family
gemmastyles you know what…you’re absolutely right.
_basselin oh my friend! Lovely photos 💗
fan1 wedding photos dropping! pray for me
fan2 the most beautiful couple congrats
fan3 rockstar marries rockstar
harryfan I really thought he was never going to marry 😭
liked by anthonypham, harrystyles, and 322,456 others
lloyddddddddddddddddd the (not so) newley weds 🤍
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annetwist I have these framed at home
anthonypham had the absolute joy of capturing our friends wedding with you
yourinstagram forever grateful! h and i love you boys
yourinstagram 🫶
harrystyles thank you for capturing our special day
jefezoff they really spent the entire day in their own bubble
fan1 STOPPPPPP he shot the wedding! Oh i'm so jealous
liked by niallhoran, shaniatwain, and 9,672,655 others
harrystyles every moment on stage is special when i get to share it with you, my heart
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glenne_azoff the prettiest girl!
yourinstgram i love you! thanks for falling in love with me back in 2015, baby
harrystyles thank you for joining my band in 2015
paulithepsm y/n the heart of the band
jefezoff I'll take credit for introducing you to y/n by you naming your first born after me
harrystyles fuck off
liked by fan1, fan2, and 42,333 others
lovebandupdates HARRY AND Y/N SINGING LOML AT WEMBLEY AFTER ANNOUNCING THEIR MARRIAGE
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fan1 all i can do is cry
fan2 it really is the love band *cries*
fan3 how long do we think he’s been married
fan4 I was there tonight 😭😭😭 harry is so in love
fan1 spill babes spill
fan4 okay so they sing right and it's the most perfect duet. y/n has a perfect voice that fits harry's perfectly. the song finishes and harry holds her in an embrace for a long time. they come back out and harry has a new ring on his left hand but he basically spends the last of the show kissing her cheek and dancing with her. harry is so in and y/n looks at him with so much love in her eyes. a perfect match
fan3 why you got to say all that. 🥺😭 I am never recovering from this
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles story#harry styes writing#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry writing#harry fluff#harry angst#harry story#harry fic rec#harry styles fic rec#harry one shot#harry styles one shot#harry styles love on tour#harrys house#harry styles x y/n#harry smut
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something about y/n losing her virginity to harry? please
I hope you enjoy almost 3k words of the softest filth I've ever written 😉 Also, I pictured this as LHH (my beloved) so that's why he's described as having long hair!
warnings: smut!! 18+ only!! vaginal fingering, nipple play (briefly), p in v sex, loss of virginity, innocent reader, soft dom! harry
WC: 2.8 k
Your parents always told you to wait until marriage. Said it wasn’t “ladylike” to give yourself to someone before you were truly dedicated to one another for life. And for a long time you believed them. But now, you were about to graduate college, and you still hadn’t had sex. Your friends all had: Sarah, Mitch, Adam, Harry, Niall, and all of the other people you hung out with found someone to suit them (with Mitch and Sarah it was each other, which you all totally called your freshman year). But you still hadn’t. And you had to say, you didn’t really believe your parents anymore. You wanted to see what the fuss was about. And you wanted it with Harry.
You had always had a bit of a crush on him: the long curls, bright green eyes, full lips, and dimple had drawn you in when you first met in your math class, but his sweet smile, gentle laugh, and kindness made you fall head over heels. Every time he got a new partner, your heart broke a little more, and every time he broke up with them, it healed again. You went through this vicious cycle all throughout your schooling, but tonight, you thought maybe you could break out of it. Harry had been single throughout your whole senior year, and your friends were hanging out at his place tonight. Maybe you could get him alone…
“Alright, I think you’ve had a few too many, Mitch. I’ll get him home.”
Sarah held her boyfriend up, still giggling at how he could barely get up from the chair. Adam had already gone home, since he had an 8-page final essay due for his writing class, and Niall hadn’t been able to come since he was studying for his music theory final. As soon as Harry finished helping Sarah get Mitch out to her car, he came back to find you still on his couch, taking a small sip from the bottle of hard cider you had been drinking. You purposefully didn’t drink enough to get you drunk, wanting to remember this. Sure, this could go horribly wrong and Harry could reject you and not want to be your friend again. But maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way as you. And you would get what you wanted.
“Will you need a ride home? Or are you okay to drive?” he asked.
You smiled, “I’ve only drank one bottle of cider. I’ll be fine, H.”
He smiled back, sitting beside you once more, “Can’t believe it’s almost over. I’ll miss you all when we go.”
“Me too,” you replied, “but I think I’ll miss you the most.”
Harry quirked up a brow, his smile becoming more of a smirk, “Oh, really? And why would that be?”
You sighed, pushing down your nerves and steeling yourself for a potential rejection.
“Because I want you, H. As more than just my friend.”
You paused, waiting for his answer. You locked eyes, trying to read his expression, but it was unusually blank. There was silence. A bit too much. Then his response.
“I wish you had told me that earlier. Before we were about to move home.”
You took one of his large hands in yours, interlacing your fingers.
“I’ve liked you for so long, Harry. But it seemed like every time I worked up the nerve to say something, you’d be with someone else. I didn’t want that to happen again, so I just didn’t say anything,” you explained.
His eyes softened, holding a twinge of guilt, “Only dated other people because I didn’t think I could be yours. Didn’t want to ruin the friendship.”
He brought your hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. You couldn’t help but get a little flustered, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.
“I felt the same way. Except I just stayed single because I’m a loser,” you joked.
A frown stretched across his lips, “No, you’re not. Don’t say things like that.”
“Well no one’s ever fucked me, so I think that might be true.”
And there it was. The invitation you wanted to send. You could only hope that he would accept.
Harry looked you in the eyes, his expression unusually serious compared to the bright eyed, joyful man you’d come to know.
“I don’t ever want you to think that about yourself. You’re such a lovely person, could never be a loser,” you smiled bashfully at that, but he continued, “and, well, if you’d like to change that…”
He trailed off, knowing you would know what he meant.
“I do, Harry,” you pulled him closer to you, your knees touching because of your close proximity, “I want that with you. I just wouldn’t really know where to start.”
He let go of your hand in favor of cupping your jaw, brushing his thumb against your soft skin, “Would you like me to teach you?”
You nodded, feeling a bit too shy to speak now. Harry smiled reassuringly, gently resting his other hand on your thigh.
“Let me know what you feel comfortable with, okay?”
“Okay,” you managed to get out.
That was all he needed before his lips were on yours.
They were just as soft as you imagined: plush, pink, and experienced as they moved against your own. You had kissed someone before, so this was at least familiar territory. But soon, he pulled you into his lap, his long curls tickling your skin as he deepened the kiss. You couldn’t help but gasp softly in surprise as his hands moved from cupping your cheek to wrapping around your waist. You felt almost dizzy, and it was just a kiss.
Harry pulled away then, looking deep into your eyes, “Still okay?”
You nodded, but he shook his head, “Need you to tell me. I want to make sure I have your full permission for everything we do.”
Your heart swelled. You doubted you’d find any other man who would treat you like this.
“I’m okay, Harry. Still a little nervous.”
He smiled, “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you. May I take this off?”
You hadn’t even noticed he was tugging on your shirt, but his question brought it to your attention.
Remembering his request, you said, “Yes, H.”
You lifted your arms above your head as he undressed you. You couldn’t help but feel a bit shy at your exposed position, moving your arms to cover yourself.
“Fucking beautiful,” Harry cooed, gently unwrapping your arms from your torso, “don’t need to hide from me, baby, you’re so damned pretty.”
Heat rose to your cheeks again as you mumbled a bashful “thank you.”
“Here, I’ll take mine off too.”
You gawked as Harry stripped his shirt off, revealing his toned and tattooed torso.
“Glad you’re enjoying the show,” he quipped as he stood from the couch, “but I’m not doing any more until we get to the bedroom. Not taking your virginity on my couch.”
You broke eye contact, slightly embarrassed as you stood up as well, “I didn’t mean to stare, H.”
He gently gripped your hips and leaned forward, lips brushing your ear, “I want you to look, darling.”
As quickly as he stepped into your space, he left it, walking the short distance to his bedroom and gesturing for you to follow. You did, still flustered as you walked past him into the familiar space. Harry closed the door behind you, despite the two of you being alone, and sat on the bed, patting his lap.
“Come here, baby.”
You quickly obeyed, sitting on his lap.
He cupped your face in his hands again, “If at any point you feel uncomfortable, please tell me. It’s okay if we don’t go the whole way today, just want you to feel safe.”
“I’ll tell you, I promise. But I don’t think anything you’ll do will make me feel uncomfortable,” you answered honestly, making him smile.
He leaned in and kissed you again, reintroducing the familiar motions. You went along happily, already addicted to his kisses. But soon, he was gently laying you back until your back was against the mattress. Harry’s hands traveled down your body, stopping at your bra.
“May I?”
“Of course, H.”
He unhooked your bra, throwing it onto the ground carelessly as he took in your fully topless torso. His large hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing against your nipples. You jumped from his touch, making him chuckle.
“Sensitive, aren’t you?” he remarked before replacing his thumbs with his lips, licking and sucking at your pert nipples.
You gasped, grabbing at his luscious curls, “Oh, Harry.”
You felt him smile against you as he continued his ministrations. You barely noticed his hands traveling down until they tugged at the zipper of your jeans. He looked up at you, silently asking permission.
You nodded, lifting your hips, “Please, H, take them off.”
Harry obliged, undoing the zipper and button of your jeans and tugging them down your legs until you were left in just your panties. He lifted his head and drank you in, tugging down the cotton fabric until you were bare before him. Just like before, you felt a bit shy from the attention, but Harry wasn’t letting you cover up.
“Shit, baby, you’re even more beautiful than I thought you’d be.”
You had lost count of the amount of times you blushed, “Y-you thought about this?”
“So many times,” he confessed, “wanted to be the first one who made you feel good.”
“I’ve wanted that too. For so long. But you can’t do that if you still have your pants on,” you teased.
He chuckled, “I suppose you’re right. Want to help me?”
You nodded eagerly, tugging the zipper down on his ridiculously tight jeans and helping to shove them down his thick thighs. Now all that was separating you was his boxers. There was a sizeable tent in the fabric, and Harry laughed softly again when he caught you staring.
“Want me to take those off, too?”
You nodded, not bothering with words since he knew how needy you were. He guided your hand to the waistband of his underwear, encouraging you to drag them down. And you did so happily.
Holy shit, he was big.
Of course, this was the first time you had seen a cock, so you supposed you didn’t have much to go off of. But it looked big.
Harry could see the nerves return to your expression, “Don’t worry, lovely. It won’t hurt. I’ll open you up a bit first. Lay back down.”
You listened, laying your head back on the plush pillows as Harry leaned forward, hovering above you. His hands gently ran along your thighs. You knew he was doing it to make sure that you were comfortable, but quite honestly, you were beginning to get a little impatient.
“Want it, H. Need your fingers.”
He raised his eyebrows, “Not so shy anymore, hm? Am I making you wait too long?”
He didn’t give you a chance to answer his question, running his fingers through your folds to collect your wetness on his fingers. The response you would’ve had came out as a choked moan as you watched him slip his fingers into his mouth.
“Taste so fucking good,” Harry groaned, “definitely eating this perfect pussy next time.”
Heat rose to your cheeks once more at the implication that there would be a next time. But you didn’t have much of a chance to think about it as he used those fingers to spread your pussy open.
“So pretty,” he murmured almost to himself, dragging his fingers through your wet folds.
“Please, Harry,” you whined, tired of being teased.
He smiled at you, “Don’t worry, baby. Said I’d take care of you.”
And his first finger entered you, stretching your entrance in a way it hadn’t been before. Sure, you’d used your own fingers and a toy or two. But it was so different in the best way when someone else did it.
“Shit,” you gasped as he stretched you open, smirking at how tight you were against just one of his fingers.
“Relax for me, baby. Gonna need at least one more finger, if not two to make sure you’re nice and ready for me.”
You willed yourself to relax, allowing yourself to sink into the pillows as he pressed inside of you. He pulled out completely before re-entering with two fingers, making you moan out in pleasure.
“Oh fuck! Harry!”
“That’s it, beautiful. Look so good taking my fingers like this,” he praised, curling his fingers inside of you, “bet you’ll look even prettier with my cock.”
“Want it, Harry, please,” you begged.
“Not yet, pretty. Need to make sure you’re nice and stretched open for me.”
He took his sweet time, teasing you with the slow drag of his fingers. The sounds coming from your pussy were obscene, wetness squelching around his fingers as he fucked you. You could feel the coil in your belly and your pussy clenched around him.
“Gonna cum for me, baby? Can feel you squeezing me.”
You nodded, already too far gone to speak. Harry smirked, then leaned in to suck your clit.
You saw stars, vision becoming slightly fuzzy as you experienced the best orgasm of your life. He fucked you through it, fingers not stopping as you soaked them.
“That’s it, pretty. So good for me,” he praised.
When you came down from your high, Harry smirked at you, “Think you're ready for this cock, baby?”
“Please, Harry! Need to feel you in me, please,” you begged, not particularly caring if you sounded desperate.
He rolled a condom over his cock and lined himself up with your entrance.
Harry’s expression turned serious again, “Promise you’ll tell me if it hurts at all.”
You nodded, “I will, H, promise.”
Satisfied with your answer, he leaned in and kissed you softly as his tip breached your entrance. You gasped softly: if you thought his fingers stretched you out, it was nothing compared to the girth of his cock. Harry murmured soft encouragements into your skin as he slowly entered you, filling your pussy for the first time. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to, the only sounds escaping your lips were broken whimpers. Soon, he was fully sheathed inside of you, making you the fullest you had ever been in your life.
“Harry,” you whined.
He smiled at you, lovingly brushing your hair from your face, “Feel okay, baby?”
You nodded, “So full. Move, please?”
Of course, he couldn’t say no if you asked so politely. So slowly, he rolled his hips, testing the waters. The sweet moan that spilled from your mouth was enough confirmation that you were ready. He pulled out almost entirely before slamming back in, setting a slow yet still somehow relentless pace as he fucked you. Choked gasps and whines fell from your lips with abandon as Harry pounded you. It was absolute bliss. He looked like an angel, long hair framing his perfect face as his brow was furrowed in concentration, determined to make you feel good.
“So good, Harry,” you managed to gasp out to assuage his worries.
He smiled then, lips brushing your temple as he continued his slow, yet powerful thrusts, “Yeah? You like it?”
“Love it,” you moaned as he brushed a spot inside of you, “Right there, H.”
“Here?” he asked cheekily as he hit that spot again, turning you into a pile of mush.
Harry sped up a bit, sensing that you could take more. You moaned desperately as he continued to hit that perfect spot inside of you with every thrust. His cock filled you deliciously, and quite honestly, you didn’t know how you went without it until now.
“Fuck, feel like I’m gonna cum soon, your pussy is just too perfect. Are you close, pretty?”
You nodded, feeling the coil in your belly once more, “So close, Harry! Please!”
“Need you to cum so I can. C’mon baby, give it to me,” he commanded.
One of his thumbs moved between your bodies, skillfully rubbing your clit. You writhed around his as your orgasm slammed into you, completely taking your breath away. Somehow, it was even better than the first one, your vision blurring even more as you clenched around him. You vaguely heard yourself whimpering his name brokenly as he spilled into the condom, groaning as he found his release. You were brought back to reality from the feeling of his lips brushing against yours, and you responded to his kiss as best you could.
He smiled, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks, “Was that good for you, baby?”
“Absolutely perfect, Harry. Thank you,” you answered shyly, running your fingers through his curls.
You may not be going to college together anymore in a few weeks, but you knew this wasn’t the last time you’d see him. Not when he treated you better than any other man possibly could.
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfic#harry styles story#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut imagine#harry styles fandom#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles request
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Committed I
I’ve been listening to this TikTok on repeat for weeks. The way he plays sounds so, so pretty.
Notes/Warnings: best friend Harry, band Harry, self-hatred thoughts mentioned There will be a part 2; I was going to make it one long piece but it was getting too long.
The first time Harry thought she was beautiful he hoped she would somehow know, and they would just be together. But instead, he had to continue the story that he was telling—one even he didn’t remember after realizing she was the most beautiful creature to walk the earth—and pretend like he hadn’t fallen for his best friend in a matter of twenty seconds.
“Can y’please stop doing that,” Harry rolled his eyes as he said it. “She’ll keep doing stuff fo’ us.”
“Isn’t that why she’s here?” Mitch said with an impish smile and winked at her. Harry glared at him immediately in response.
“Yes,” she answered monotonously at the same time Harry said, “No, I like having her here.”
She smiled in his direction, and he shook his head at her with an eye roll. “S’not why,” he repeated. She shrugged and continued helping pack stuff up.
Harry had Niall and Mitch doing the heavy things, helping Sarah pack up her drums while Niall broke down his keyboard setup. She was insistent on the light things—which other than Sarah’s drums were most of everything. Niall wouldn’t let anyone touch his guitar except for her—especially after she nearly broke her arm trying to save it from falling off the lifted stage once during sound check when Niall’s strap snapped right off his shoulder.
“Don’t know what we’d do without you, princess,” Niall said sweetly to her. Harry felt a flare of jealousy. He hated when other people—even his own friends called his best friend anything other than her name. He wanted to shower her with affectionate names that made her cheeks turn that light pink that he loved so much. Niall wasn’t even in love with her, he didn’t deserve the warmth of her cheeks or the pleasure of making her feel adored.
But neither did Harry. And Harry called her love, sweet girl, and kitten, any chance he could and every time he did, he saw the way her cheeks darkened one shade. Of course, it had gotten easier over the years since they met. Instead of a cherry red, it was more of a velvety pink.
She was helping Harry put things into the back of his car. There were several girls waiting anxiously for his attention. She was used to it. “What did y’think?” He asked. She didn’t respond at first because her focus was on making sure the speakers and sound equipment made it into his car without breaking. “Kitten?”
“Oh me?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Who else, love?”
Her eyes darted to the girls pretending to look busy, waiting for Harry to notice them but instead he leaned against his closed car waiting for the others to file out so they could leave. Sarah oversaw payment—and Niall always managed to get a drink on the house. “What did I think about your show?” She asked leaning against his car and so close to him the sides of their arms touched. He nodded.
“It was beautiful,” she said gently. “You always play flawlessly. I love every show. I swear each one gets better, and I think it’s impossible every single time for that to happen,” she smirked and looked up at the sky. “But you never cease to surprise me.”
It was dark enough to see a few stars but in town it was impossible to see all the glittering specks of sparkles fluttering across the sky. She looked forward going back to Harry’s place that he shared with Niall. She wanted to lay on his bed and stare out the skylight and wish on stars all night long.
“You’re not lying, right?” He asked quietly.
She tilted her head and turned to him. “What?”
“Mitch...he was joking around...said y’would think m’good. Even if I sucked. Because you’re m’best friend.”
Every time he said best friend it made her muscles tighten. It felt like she was on high alert. She wanted to be so much more than best friends. But...she wasn’t good enough for someone like Harry. Shaking her head of the thought quickly as she thought of it, she smirked at Harry. “As your best friend, I would tell you if you were bad,” she smiled doing her best to relax the tenseness of her muscles. He smirked at her and shook his head.
“What’s been your favorite show y’think?”
“Do you remember playing back in college at City Tavern for the third time?” She said almost instantaneous. Harry felt his eyebrows move up on his forehead in surprise of her quick answer.
He tilted his head at her again. “The third time?”
“Yes.”
“Specifically, the third?” He questioned.
“Yes, it was a Saturday night, the band that you were supposed to be opening for cancelled and they let you take the lead spot? It was like the last week of September, it was so nice outside—starting to cool down. It was beautiful and you played songs that sounded like how fall feels. I felt like I was wrapped in a sweatshirt sitting by a fire. I never felt so whole.”
Harry wondered if she knew she was a walking poetry book. He tried not to think about how close her face was—tried not to think about how easy it would be to reach out and push some hair behind her ear, hold her chin and kiss her until they were both breathless.
“Hi!” a voice chirped. They tore their gazes from each other to look at the pair of girls approaching them. “I’m sorry to bother you,” she said sweetly. “We’re huge fans. Could we take a picture?” She asked. Looking to Harry for confirmation she saw in his eyes he wanted to say no, but it wasn’t a genuine heartfelt no. She had acted as talent manager many times before. She coerced girls away when they were over the top and too needy. But these girls, as pretty as they were, and for as long as they waited, weren’t mean. There was no need to scare them off. Harry was mad when the sweet girl offered to take a picture for them. Forcing Harry to pose with them he wanted to pose with her, take a selfie or get a good picture of the pair of them cozied up to one another. “Could I give you my number?” One giggled cutely after taking the picture.
As she handed the phone back to the girl who waited idly by while she flirted with Harry, the poor lovesick girl felt all the blood pool into her fingers. She was lucky she didn’t drop the delicate technology as they tingled immediately, numbing how she felt so quickly and viciously, she thought she would pass out in the next breath. Fortunately, her friend grabbed the phone, and she was making her way back inside to help with the rest of the equipment. She didn’t want to hear the answer. “M’flattered,” she heard anyway. “But m’not really interested in dating right now,” Harry explained. “You’re very lovely,” he said sweetly.
She dreaded the day that answer changed. It had been years and years of him saying the same tired line to hopeful girls who never received the change either.
She wasn’t blind. Harry was beautiful; there was no other way to describe it. Every angle of his face was defined but still soft. His skin was like velvet to the touch, and even the little stubble he managed to grow (she was always one to remind him it took him significantly longer than most men to final sprout something resembling a beard), drove her wild. His smile and the dimples were unmatched to anyone’s else’s. She often wondered how she would ever be able to have a child and think they were beautiful because surely Harry would always be the most beautiful thing in the world.
But nothing in the world compared to looking at Harry’s eyes. If she went blind in the next moment, she wouldn’t beg for her sight back only the request to see Harry’s eyes for the rest of her life. She heard music when she saw green. The warmth and happiness she felt every time she saw the cute little crinkle at the outer corners was immeasurable.
The idea that someone else would get to enjoy gazing at Harry for as long as they wanted because they were in love seemed cruel.
Especially when she thought no one would ever love him like she did.
*
Most of the time she stood backstage to listen to them play but every once in a while, at the smaller clubs and venues, she meandered into the crowd of people. Harry informed her that if she stood about two thirds of the way from the stage and centered herself as best she could, she would have the best sound quality possible. During sound checks, she ensured this was true and always staked out a spot for herself just in case she wanted a view of her best friend (and his lovely band) from the center of the dance floor.
What Harry failed to tell her was how excited he got seeing her among the crowd. He loved having her backstage. He knew she wasn’t endangered of getting hurt by rowdy drunk people, or having her drink messed with or something worse. He enjoyed knowing she could hear and see him and whenever he played, he felt her eyes on him the whole time. Like a warm blanket.
But Harry very obviously, could not watch her from his position center stage when she was behind the lights and curtains. So, when she was front and center, his eyes couldn’t move from her. There was nowhere else to look. No one else to look at or search for in the crowd of people. It was like a spotlight appeared and instead of shining at him, Mitch, Niall, or Sarah, it highlighted her beautiful being in the mix of all the club patrons.
There weren’t many people who believed in him and his friends at the start of their band and their gigs. He heard from acquaintances and random people that bands rarely work out. But she always, always encouraged him to follow his dreams. They still had a long way to go, but they went from open mic nights to paid and tipped live entertainment, to clubs. It was an amazing start and Harry couldn’t ignore his biggest cheerleader.
Harry doesn’t really know why he never said anything to her about the way he felt towards her. It crossed his mind every moment they were together. It seemed like it would happen eventually. But as the pair of them got further into their twenties with no sign of dating in sight, he worried that she didn’t love him any more than a friend at all.
Harry often thought about the first time his best friend turned beautiful. She was beautiful of course, from the moment he met her in primary school, but it was when they were heading off to college once more before third year when Harry had just convinced Niall, Mitch, and Sarah to play at the local pub before all their school friends left as well.
Harry doesn’t even remember what he said. But at the moment everyone was laughing—good naturedly—at his expense. It was a story Harry was telling, and Harry had a way of making a story last twice as long as most others could. His voice was slow, he added extra detail when he thought of it, and someone had said it would be last call before the story was over (and the night had hardly started). While others were laughing, she was just there. Gazing at him. A gentle, encouraging smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “What were you saying?” She asked over the roar of their dull laughter.
Harry felt his chest warm over. Suddenly, she wasn’t just his best friend. Instead, she had soft, silky hair he wanted to run his fingers through. Her cheeks weren’t just for smiling and laughing at his lame jokes, they were round little apples he wanted to kiss at every moment. Her smile was only for him, a lifeboat in a sea of fake laughter. Then, those eyes weren’t just something he noticed darted rapidly around the room ensuring everyone they knew was safe, but they were an oasis—he was desperate to gaze into them and peer into her soul in hopes of finding more about how she felt.
The first time Harry thought she was beautiful he hoped she would somehow know, and they would just be together. But instead, he had to continue the story that he was telling—one even he didn’t remember after realizing she was the most beautiful creature to walk the earth—and pretend like he hadn’t fallen for his best friend in a matter of twenty seconds.
*
After that, Harry thought things changed on his end. He thought he was much more obvious in his intentions. When they hung out, Harry went about looking for excuses to touch her. He would find stray eyelashes on her cheeks, he would catch a fly away hair, or pluck a piece of lint from off her sweater. Whenever they studied together, planned together, watched movies together, Harry looked for excuses to touch her. “Love?” He hummed bravely.
“Hmm?” She was looking at her notebook studying and writing as she peered from her textbook, the pen cap was in her mouth, making Harry anxious she would swallow it.
“Uhh...” he swallowed, and he suddenly felt nervous about asking her the question on his mind. Naturally she sensed his anxiety before he could even utter the next sentence. Popping the pen cap back into place (and relieving him of his worry of her untimely death), she looked at him expectantly.
“You okay, Harry?” She asked softly.
He felt his cheeks warm. “I know...” he shook his head at himself, feeling like an idiot. “D’you want a hug?” He asked.
She blinked in confusion. “Come again?” She asked.
“Uh...” he cleared his throat. “I just...I can’t remember the last time we hugged. And... you’re m’best friend and I... I love you and I want t’make sure we’re not those friends who never touch each other, or...”
Her face broke into this beautiful smile (of course, it was beautiful. She couldn’t be anything but beautiful) and she nodded quickly. “I’d like that,” she pushed her book and notebook aside to all but throw herself at him. As beautiful as he thought she was, he couldn’t help but think about how perfect she felt in his arms. He squeezed her tightly to him. “Are you okay?” She asked him.
“Hmm?” He hummed almost dreamily. Lost in the perfume of her hair and the warmth of her body close to his.
“Is everything okay?” She questioned again. “You seem out of sorts, and I don’t mind the hugs at all,” she promised. “Just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“M’fine, love,” he nodded against her hair and sighed contentedly as he held her. “Completely fine,” he repeated softly before they enjoyed being snuggled together for a few moments in complete but perfect silence.
*
She remembered the first time she had a boyfriend. He hated Harry. But it was Harry or no dating. “There’s no way he’s not in love with you,” he said with a shake of his head.
She rolled her eyes. “Harry is my best friend, and you’ll have to trust me on this. He’s part of the package deal.”
Usually, her boyfriends ended up loving Harry almost as much as she did. In reality, there wasn’t anyone that could love him as much as she did. Harry was always perfectly kind and lovely to the men in her life. It made her happy that someone could fit into her life even when Harry was right there, looking utterly perfect and making her heart stop.
But in the end, it never really worked out for guys that weren’t Harry.
Harry had spent many nights consoling her, even when she bravely showed she wasn’t upset. The worst was the guy that dumped her after two years, talking of moving in together, and setting the scene for an entire life together. That night she cried more than Harry had ever seen her and it shattered him.
“I wish I was prettier,” she sniffled.
“Kitten, you’re beautiful,” he promised gently rubbing his hand over her back.
She shook her head. “Not...” she swallowed. “Not like I’m supposed to be.”
He frowned. “I don’t know what that means,” he admitted.
Her face was as broken as her heart. Harry wanted to wrap her in his arms and squeeze until she felt whole. “Like the girls that flirt with you,” she whispered. “They’re skinny and perfect and look like they belong on covers of magazines. They’re not this weird in between size of looking like a potato sack,” she said with a hiccupping breath.
Harry smirked because he thought that was the saddest thing he had ever heard. Especially because he believed she was the most beautiful thing to ever exist. “You silly sweet girl,” he cooed. “You’re not a potato sack.”
She sniffled. “You have to say that.”
“Even still,” he said. What he wanted to say was that in a crowded room the only person that caught his eye was her, always and always. Harry was glad she wasn’t on the cover of a magazine, he wanted to keep her beauty all to himself.
“I think I’ll be alone forever,” she mumbled brokenly.
“You’ll always have me,” he shrugged. He wondered if she could feel how much he meant those words. Even under the pretense of a joke and a way to ease the frustration she felt in the moment, he meant each one. She looked at him with her teary and bloodshot eyes and didn’t say anything. Harry always wondered why. But she didn’t want to say until he found someone better than her. She was already heartbroken over a guy she didn’t really love.
*
She was helping with Sarah’s makeup and outfit options at their shared apartment when Harry and Niall arrived. Mitch had made the last-minute errand run to make sure everyone had everything they needed for their long night of playing.
“Hello!” Niall called as they entered the apartment.
“Just a minute!” Sarah called. “She’s performing a miracle on my gray looking skin.”
“Oh hush,” she rolled her eyes and Harry couldn’t believe how easy it was to feel at home listening to her voice.
Making themselves comfortable, Niall headed to the kitchen to get a drink while Harry situated himself on the sofa and admired the homey feel of their place. He could sense the essence of her in every air particle. It was like falling asleep on a rainy afternoon listening to music.
“Princess, what’s this?” Niall said pulling the paper off the refrigerator. Harry turned from flipping through show options on TV to his friend sipping his drink as he scanned over the paper.
“You didn’t,” she whispered.
“You have to tell them,” she heard Sarah whisper back.
“What is it?” Harry asked.
“It’s nothing,” she called.
“Uh...it doesn’t look like nothing!” Niall said, his face bubbling with excitement.
“It’s not!” Sarah cheered and came racing from the bathroom to Niall’s side as they scanned the letter.
She slowly made her way out, setting Harry’s heart to a spastic rhythm while she plopped herself beside him on the couch. “What is it?” He repeated. But his stomach already knew. He was overcome with anxiety and fear that something in their lives was going to change.
She rolled her eyes. “I got a paid internship for this music producer...but I’m not taking it.”
Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What?” He asked. “Where? When? For who?”
She explained the details saying one of her professors reached out and sent the link to the internship. He put in a good word for her, and while the pay wouldn’t be great, the experience would set the tone for her future. It would help write her own ticket, and she would be perfect for the position. “I never planned on taking it if I got it.”
“You were stupid to think you wouldn’t,” Sarah said knowingly.
She sighed. “I didn’t tell you, because I’m not taking it,” she explained to Harry.
Niall passed the letter to Harry so he could look it over himself. How could she not take it? He turned to her more directly. He thought about his best friend moving halfway across the world, nearly six thousand miles between them. Since primary school they hadn’t been more than six miles apart other than family holidays. The thought of not being able to find her in a matter of ten minutes made him nauseous. But he powered through. “Kitten,” he said softly. “You should take it.”
She shook her head firmly. “No.” One word, simple, done. End of story.
“She’s being extremely stubborn,” Sarah said. “That’s why I put it on the fridge. It’s your turn to convince her.”
“Princess, you’d be insane not to do it,” Niall said gently standing beside Sarah while she looked on with a pointed expression.
“Better have me committed then,” she shrugged.
Harry settled the letter aside. “Love.”
“Harry, I’m not going,” she shook her head. “I’m just not.” As much as he didn’t want her to go, this seemed like a horrible idea to let her stay when it was so very obvious that she should. “We have a show to get ready for,” she said getting up and heading to grab her things for them all.
*
“Did you know?” Harry asked Mitch while they were on stage during the soundcheck. Niall was getting drinks for them while Sarah and her went to the bathroom to freshen up before the show.
“Know what?”
“’Bout the internship.”
Mitch nodded. “I was there when she got the letter. Sarah was very insistent she go.”
Harry glanced at the ground away from them. He hated the idea of her leaving. “Wonder why she won’t go,” he mumbled. Mitch snorted in response. “What?”
Mitch looked his friend in exasperation. “You can’t be that dense,” he said.
Harry felt his eyebrows pinch together. “What?” He repeated.
“She won’t leave you,” he said with an eye roll. Harry’s heart skipped a beat and he stared blankly at Mitch as he waited for him to continue. Shaking his head, he sighed. “Sarah thinks I shouldn’t say anything, but m’pretty sure the only ones who don’t know you’re in love with one another are yourselves,” he shrugged and headed to Niall getting the round of drinks.
Harry felt like his tongue weighed three times as much in his mouth. If he wanted to speak, he didn’t think he could. The silence in his head was so loud he could have put a rock concert to shame.
“Whoa, are you okay?” She asked suddenly. Her hand was on his face checking his temperature with the cool feeling of her skin against the hotness that warmed over his forehead and cheeks. “You look pale, are you feeling alright?” The concern dripped in her voice making his heart ache more by the second.
“M’fine,” he mumbled.
The worry was already etched on her face, she didn’t believe him and he knew she was right not to. He wasn’t alright. He did feel sick. He saw Mitch mumbling something to Sarah who looked annoyed as she looked over at Harry and her concerned expression. “He’s fine, love,” Sarah said. “Pre-show nerves.”
“Haven’t had those in a while,” she smiled softly at her best friend. “You’ll be amazing. Always are,” she promised and pressed her lips to his cheek.
*
She stayed backstage that night. Harry was grateful. He was certain he wouldn’t be able to focus if she was front and center. Knowing she was backstage made it difficult as it was. He could hear their regular fans screaming for him and he enjoyed the way they sounded but most importantly, he hoped she liked tonight’s show.
She loved Harry’s stage presence. He had so much fun and looked so at ease. From backstage she couldn’t see much but without telling him she went towards the front part of the house and slid into the crowd to see her best friend two-thirds away from the stage, centered as she knew best.
Harry’s tattoos nearly gleamed under the stage lights. They didn’t play for huge venues, but hundreds of people saw them play each time. They got paid well for what they did, and she could listen to Harry’s crooning voice all day long. If she was forced to be blind or deaf, she would pick being blind without hesitation—she couldn’t give up hearing Harry’s voice for all the riches in the world.
Swaying to the cover playing over the speakers and the words spilling from Harry’s lips made her almost woozy. He still didn’t see her, but his eyes were scanning the crowd. She thought he’d be a star one day and she dreaded it a little. Losing Harry to the popularity of celebrity status seemed like a fate that was unavoidable, but it made her sad to think of it. She shouldn’t think about it. It made her sad for no reason. Harry was up there, looking beautiful, looking like he belonged and singing so wonderfully it made her warm all over. There would be time to mourn Harry being famous in the future. For now, she wanted to enjoy him in front of her.
She had told him about her favorite show. For some reason, this one seemed like it would replace it. He looked too beautiful; his skin was smooth and silky looking. All she could think about was how he must have tasted, and she wished she could run her hands over his biceps as they curled to touch his guitar and microphone.
“Hey!” Someone shouted in her ear. Ruining the perfect daydream of Harry and his amazing voice. Like he was only singing to her. Begrudgingly, she turned toward the voice and met the eyes of the man beside her. He smiled at her so sweetly. He was cute, she wasn’t unaware of it.
But he wasn’t Harry.
She smiled at him politely. “Great music, huh!?” He said to her loudly.
She nodded. “Yeah! My best friend is singing up there,” she gestured proudly. She could see his eyes falter a little. She knew that look. Anytime a guy knew Harry was in her life they seemed to flounder a bit; there was no way they could compete with him.
They were right, of course.
“He’s good!” He called again.
“Thank you!” Her voice was proud again. She couldn’t help it, she beamed with pride at him.
“Can I get you a drink!?” He asked.
She could feel the blush on her cheeks. She was rarely asked to get a drink or even talked to by men—especially because of Harry but more so because she didn’t think she was pretty enough. It was her entire issue with Harry. She wasn’t beautiful enough for Harry. He deserved someone who looked like she belonged on his arm. She didn’t. There was too much extra weight on her hips and legs. Her face always looked asymmetrical in pictures. Her hair never seemed to sit flat, always a bout of frizz. As she ogled Harry up there, he was too beautiful.
She was not.
She perched on her toes to talk to the man’s ear nervous about the impending reaction. It could only go one of two ways and with Harry on stage she hoped it went the polite way. “That’s very sweet, but I don’t take drinks from strangers without my friend around,” she explained. “I’m flattered.”
“I get that, that’s smart,” he nodded. Relief flooded her. “I’ll wait till he’s off stage then,” he smiled devilishly. Her cheeks burned red again and she grinned at him.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Enjoy the show!”
She hadn’t realized she hadn’t looked up at Harry once during the interaction with the stranger. As she turned her gaze away from the retreating figure up to the stage where her gaze locked with her best friend.
He looked pissed.
Frowning, she gave a small wave, and he turned his gaze from her momentarily, the anger in his eyes not matching the gentle voice that sang while she enjoyed his show.
Her eyes darted to Niall who caught her sight and he winked at her with an eye roll as he shook his head almost imperceptibly in response to Harry. Next her gaze moved to Mitch who just smiled at her as if he knew something she didn’t. Sarah was in her own world, living her best life playing with a bunch of boys who were a bit crazy at times.
*
Usually, she didn’t stay in the crowd the whole set. But something about Harry’s reaction twisted her stomach. It felt like she was in trouble, so she didn’t want to go backstage until the end—especially if Harry was going to be all grumpy towards her.
She got her own drink and moved around the crowd as best she could to get a different view, a different sound throughout the set. While his suggestion to stand two thirds away from the center was a good one, Harry sounded beautiful from anywhere in the crowd. She never really got to go up front, but she saw her chance as there were people leaving and she thought nothing of it.
Plus, it wasn’t like Harry ever told her not to go up front for any particular reason.
It took her a moment to realize that Harry was in fact searching for her, but once she did, her heart warmed. As grumpy as he was earlier, it was so sweet he cared for her; so sweet that he worried about her.
As good as he sounded further from the stage, her whole world changed seeing him so close. She got to be near Harry all the time—closer than directly in front of the stage ever could, but somehow this got her heart beating out of control. He was even more beautiful than ever. There was something almost intimate about seeing the way his fingers skimmed over the guitar strings, the way his jaw flexed as he sang, and how she could almost see the way his eyelashes brushed his cheeks every time he blinked.
Fortunately, her ogling prevented her from noticing the girls that violently/drunkenly shoved her out of the way. She thought that if she braced for impact, it would have been much worse. She fell back to the floor so hard she was certain her tailbone was going to bruise. The back of her head had a sharp pain almost instantly as it smacked into the floor. She couldn’t even scream she was so shocked. She gasped as the headache ensued immediately, too. Reaching for her head someone stepped on her arm and she groaned. Clutching the back of her head she tried to move but it felt like there was so much weight pressing on her. She always wanted to hear Harry play, but she wished the sound would just stop in that moment. Her brain was foggy, but she wasn’t unconscious. Everything just ached from that sudden impact against the hard floor.
For the rest of her life, she would be grateful to the girl who saw her on the floor and started pushing people away. “Hey, stop the music,” Harry said hurriedly. She was certain she would hear his voice on her deathbed, and she couldn’t help but think how mad he was going to be once he realized it was her. “Can we get some help up front?” He said quickly.
The music stopped; the voices faded into a cacophony of small talk. The pounding of the music and people screaming and yelling stopped too. She was relieved only slightly. “Oh shit, princess,” Niall said the microphone catching his words.
Of course, she couldn’t see from her view on the floor. But Harry nearly threw his guitar to the floor the moment Niall’s voice indicated it was her that was hurt. Mitch only grabbed it at the last second, catching it by the head of the instrument as Harry jumped from the stage and shoved the group huddled around away from her. Niall knew that Harry was going to spiral at any second—if he wasn’t already. Seeing his best friend’s girl lying on the sticky hard floor made him mad; he couldn’t imagine what Harry was feeling. “Kitten?!” He said alertly. She had one hand on her forehead as she turned her gaze upward. “What are y’doing down here?” He snapped. He was mad. How interesting.
“My head hurts,” she murmured. Harry scooped her up like she weighed nothing and marched toward the back of the stage. Security was there to keep the remaining people away from them and she couldn’t believe Harry was holding her so effortlessly. She knew she didn’t weigh anything close to how Harry so easily picked her up. “Put me down,” she muttered but her head was aching too much.
Harry ignored her. “Is she alright?” Sarah asked.
“M’fine,” she managed. “My head hurts.”
“Get her some water,” Harry snapped settling her onto the couch in the makeshift dressing room the club had set up for bands like Harry’s.
“The lights are really bright,” she told him.
They were off in seconds. It was just the light from the adjoining bathroom and the hallway outside that let any light in. Harry was crouched beside her, his hand resting on her cheek and his thumb ran over her temple which felt so indescribably good she thought she would melt. “What’s today’s date?”
“I just have a headache, Harry,” she promised. She peeled one eye open to look at him. He waited anxiously for her to answer. “It’s March 24th,” she told him.
He sighed with relief. “Say the months backwards.”
“Harry,” she whined. “I just need some medicine.”
“Kitten, please,” he begged. She couldn’t ignore how upset he sounded. Listing them backwards her head continued to pound. “Okay,” he murmured. It was silent. Closing her eyes again she relied on the sound of Harry’s haggard breathing. The sharpness of the pain was subsiding to a substantial ache, but not as intense as it was when it happened.
“M’okay,” she mumbled. “Stop being all worried.” He didn’t say anything. Just continued rubbing his thumb gently against her face. “You sounded amazing,” she reminded him. “Think you replaced my favorite show,” a smiled twitched at her lips.
He snorted. “This is by far m’least favorite,” he grumbled.
“Don’t be silly,” she said blindly reaching out to squeeze what had to have been his arm. He was much closer than she expected. “I can still get hurt and you can have a great show.”
Her eyes were closed so she couldn’t see the way he shook his head. His body was overcome with grief and worry that she was injured. The moment he heard Niall say princess he thought he would combust. Harry could only think about how hours before Mitch said they were in love with one another, and he tried to deny it. People didn’t lose their minds the way Harry did when they weren’t in love.
“I haven’t had anything to drink, so that probably didn’t help,” she told him.
“Probably for the best there’s no alcohol fogging up y’brain,” he murmured. Even banged up she was so beautiful. Harry loved touching her and as much as he hated how she got hurt; he was grateful to touch her. Carrying her down the hall, despite her weak protest, made him think about carrying her to bed after falling asleep on the couch or over the threshold like the stupid marital tradition he didn’t even believe in even though he had no right to think about marrying her. “Does anything else hurt, m’love?” He hummed.
“Someone stepped on my hand,” she said wiggling her fingers for effect. Harry grabbed and inspected her hand carefully. There were no wounds or punctures for which he was grateful. Just a bit of a shoe print. “Think m’fingers are just sore,” she said. Carefully, Harry massaged each digit, gently rolling them between his fingers. “Ooh...” she hummed. “I could get used to this,” she sighed. Finally, he smirked. He couldn’t help it. She was too cute. Plus, he was so grateful she was okay. “This water is taking forever.”
Harry didn’t say a whole lot in times like these. He was worried he would break down crying over the anxiety of not knowing if she was truly okay. She knew he was anxious—of course she did, she knew everything about him. So she chatted more to ease his anxiety. Even when she wasn’t feeling well, she was always thinking about him.
“Y’don’t have t’talk,” he murmured. “M’okay if you’re okay,” he said.
The smile on her lips grew and she reached her free hand out to squeeze his arm again. “You’re the best, Harry,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
“I don’t like when you’re in the crowd.”
“I know.” More silence. “Harry, you’re beautiful,” she whispered. He snorted.
“Y’definitely have a concussion.”
“I’m serious!” Her eyebrows crinkled together as she pouted, and he brought his free hand to smooth out the slight wrinkle. He didn’t want her head to hurt more because of it. “From the crowd...you just look so at ease up there. So happy. You belong up there and I think it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” she whispered.
“Thank you, love,” he answered quietly. She could hear the shyness in his voice, and it made her giggle.
“So shy,” she rolled her eyes. “Girls screaming over you and you still think you don’t deserve it.”
If she wasn’t the one screaming, it didn’t matter at all. “D’you need anything else?” He asked.
“Can you rub my head again? That felt nice.”
“Of course, m’love,” there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her, and he really needed an excuse to not touch her right now to assure himself that she was okay. So, no. He didn’t mind touching her sweet face at all.
#harry#harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles blurbs#harry styles blurb#harry styles angst#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fic#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles concept#hs#hs fic#hs writing#one direction#one direction writing#best friend!harry#harry styles au#committed
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The Kindest Team Guy (TKTG)
IT'S HERE! PART 1 TO THE KINDEST TEAM GUY, my Navy Sealrry AU! ENJOY!
-Ava
TKTG Masterlist
(image not mine, the white suit was giving me Navy dress white vibes tho)
One
Growing up, you were always around the same people, your mom had up and left shortly after you turned two, after that it was you and your dad. At the time, your father's call sign was 7 alpha 3, the demo guy, but that was when he was deployed and you were staying with Raina and her mom.
By the time you were 8, your dad was 7 Alpha 1, Master Chief Brian Fraiser. Your dad's team was your family. Heck to you they were your uncles. There was uncle Mitch-7 alpha 2 and Raina's dad. Uncle Jensen-7 alpha 3 (he was always the fun one, snuck you extra dessert), Uncle Craig-7 alpha 4 (he was gruff, but also a softie), Uncle Andy-7 alpha 5 (he was your favorite, because whenever he was there, so was Cheddar), Cheddar was uncle Andy's dog and the team K-9, Uncle Derrick-7 alpha 6, Uncle Dante-7 alpha 7, and Uncle Shane-7 alpha-8.
During a highly classified mission gone wrong shortly before your 16th birthday, your dad lost his life getting the rest of his team out safely. When the team returned to Coronado his body was in a pine wood box, a flag draped over the top. Now this easily could've been the traumatic life event that sent you spiraling into the world of drugs, alcohol, and all of that other horrible stuff, but it wasn't, at least not immediately. You graduated high school top of your class, you attended MIT and graduated with honors. And then you moved back home to Coronado, California. Uncle Mitch was now 7 Alpha 1 and you begged and pleaded with him to give you answers about what happened to your dad. You got the same hero speech from him and everyone else on Alpha team, including the new demo guy Harry who had just finished green team. Your formal request to the base and up the chain of command went absolutely nowhere. And finally after a year of begging for answers the right way, you turned to what you knew best, hacking.
You started small just to make sure your skills were still as sharp as could be. You chased down lead after lead after lead. Every single last tiny breadcrumb, until finally it clicked for you, all you'd need to really break open the system was access, and what better way to get it than by exploiting your connection to Seal Team 7 Alpha.
Harry was definitely the easiest mark, he knew of you but he didn't know you the way the rest of the team did, plus he was still a single male in his late twenties who enjoyed getting his dick wet. You took your time setting the trap, making it foolproof, all the way down to the strappy red top, denim miniskirt, white converse low tops and the perfect red lipstick. You walked into the cookout looking like straight fire and Harry ate it up, plus the other guys knew that Harry was one of the good ones and thus actually kind of encouraged the two of you, after all a six year age gap was nothing compared to Derrick and his new wife's 16 year age difference.
Harry asked you out on a date the very next day. To your surprise he set the bar quite high, after all he took you to Il Fornaio. He also didn't try to hide where you were going, he knew that wasn't the place you show up to in jeans and an old Coronado Amphibious Base t-shirt. Honestly, had you not been playing him, you could've seen yourself falling for him then and there. Harry was a gentleman at dinner and he insisted on holding your heels for you while the two of you just walked along the beach. He had gorgeous soft green eyes, currently trimmed dark brown curls, tattoos littered across his body like most other SEALs, and a smooth deep British accent that you found out came from his mother, his parents were divorced and he always enjoyed visiting his green beret father in the US, he had held dual citizenship almost his entire life. He told you how his father's line went back to the very first class of green berets and his decision to become a SEAL was hard on their relationship. His father was proud of course, him choosing to serve the US, but always made comments on how being a green beret wasn't good enough for Harry. In all truth, Harry just wanted to forge his own path. He was not his father and though he admired his service and bravery, Harry just wanted to carve his own way, leave the Styles name out of things.
Harry was also a very bright person as you found out, you knew he had to be in order to be a demolitions and explosives expert, but he wasn't just that kind of bright, Harry was quite the colorful person. He wore a black button up with lavender colored shorts, black gazelles, and had pink rimmed aviators folded on his not even half buttoned shirt, having undone another three since the two of you started your walk.
A chaste goodnight kiss outside your apartment building led to a deep, heated one and an invitation upstairs that he gladly accepted. Harry was strong enough to just toss you and your mildly curvy self around with ease, as was evidenced by how he quite literally just lifted your feet up off the elevator floor and threw you over his shoulder nonchalantly asking which way to your door. You kept your eyes on the way all the muscles in his back flexed as he walked and the firm ass hiding behind those shorts. You could honestly just tell that you were about to be ruined for other men, which sucked because you knew you wouldn't be able to see this one again. When he stopped in front of your door you gave his ass a quick smack just to confirm your suspicions.
"Heaven help me, even his ass is all muscle." You whispered to yourself, apparently not quiet enough though because a deep chuckle emerged from Harry.
"I'm a SEAL, and underwater explosives are one of my favorite things to handle, of course my ass is muscle." He continued, setting you upright so you could unlock your door.
"And not even a little bit cocky about it either." You commented back.
"You haven't seen me anywhere close to cocky yet love." He answered, pulling your back flush against his front. You moaned at the feeling of his well endowed package against the fleshy curves of your ass.
“I’m looking forward to it.” you said while opening your door.
Immediately after stepping over the threshold, harry had your door closed, locked, and your front pressed against it. He gave you a quick swat on the rear and moaned at the sight.
“Fuck,” he cursed before kissing you again. Harry’s mouth demanded access and you couldn’t stop him even if you wanted to(which you didn't).
“Har, touch me, please.” You practically begged, having had enough of your teasing banter for one night.
“So desperate you can’t even say both syllables of m'name anymore.” He taunted you before quite literally ripping your dress off your body, the black lace set you wore underneath was stunning on you but it didn’t stand a chance when set between the man and achieving complete mission success. It was like watching a singular piece of paper go through an industrial grade shredding machine, or ripping a flimsy receipt in half, there one second, completely gone the next. The sting from the snap of the thong sent tingles to all the right places. A quick glance up showed Harry still fully clothed as your fingers rushed to even the score.
“Well, go on then, get rid of it, know you wanna touch them, I saw you eyeing my ink.”
“It’s just… they’re just so… i just want to lick them all.” you stuttered at first before just letting it out. Harry’s eyes darkened even more as you shoved the shirt off his broad shoulders and pushed him onto your bed. You immediately climbed over him and lazily traced the ‘17 Black’ tat with your tongue before moving inwards to the swallows and down to the butterfly. Harry rid himself of his shorts while you took your sweet time on the butterfly loving the way his muscles tensed and relaxed as you swept your tongue over the lines of ink. You heard his breath catch as you reached the laurels and wet them before jumping straight to the tiger. You took a bold chance and scraped your teeth along the tiger as you made your return to his brief covered cock that is definitely leaking if the wet patch on said briefs is anything to go by. You take a hot second to feel him up over the cloth restraint before taking his cock out and looking up at him.
You bat your eyes innocently and descend, wrapping your lips around him. Up, down, hold. That’s the pattern you use, after a bit you take him further, brushing your nose against the littered hairs and running your tongue along his sac.
“FUCK.” you hear him curse and you smile before popping off for a breath. Harry pulls you up and smothers your lips with his, one hand wound in your hair and the other kneading your ass. With a quick smack he rolls so you’re pinned under him. “My turn for a taste.”
With that he lowers his face to your tits, licking and suckling until they both stand at attention for him. Leaving his hands to play, he continues south until he is right over your dripping cunt. Harry is not the jump right in and get it done kind of guy. Well, that's not true because he can be if he wants to be, or if his companion for the night begs him enough. But tonight is not one of those nights. He starts slow, completely avoiding the spots he knows you want him most. Instead going for your plush thigh, trailing his tongue down further still he presses quick kisses from the back of your knee all the way down to your ankle before repeating his movements going up the other leg.
By the time he reaches your mound again, you're a panting, whimpering, moaning mess and he loves it. Would bottle up those sounds and replay them over and over again when he needs to get himself off.
Harry continues to tease you, pressing the softest barely there kisses all over your soaked pussy.
"More, Harry, please, I need more, FUCK!" You cry out until at long last he sucks your clit right into his mouth, pops off after just a second and dives head first into your dripping heat.
"Oh, GOD! Harry, I'm about to come."
"Let it go y/n. I want every last drop." Harry replies, his voice sending vibrations through you, and just like that you're flying over the edge into the best, longest, most intense orgasm you've ever experienced.
Harry doesn't let up until he's sure he cleaned it all up.
"Fucking delicious." He says before kissing you again. The lingering bit is passed back and forth as you continue to twirl your tongue with Harry's. After a moment he pulls away and grabs a condom out of a side pocket in his shorts.
"Up to you love." He says, completely genuine, but also with a full smirk.
"Yes please, Petty Officer Styles." You teasingly sass back.
"And for full points?" He teases, slowly ripping the condom packet and rolling it on.
"Petty Officer Second Class Harry Styles." You reply, using his full rank.
"Good girl." He answers and slowly sinks into your cunt until he bottoms out.
"Fuck, you're so fucking deep Harry. Feels so fucking good."
"This fucking pussy was made for me, damnit, taking me so well darling, the perfect squeeze.
"Oh God, go, GO HARRY!" you command and like an obedient soldier he follows orders, pulling out halfway and thrusting back in. Further and further he pulls back until only his tip remains. Fucking you so thoroughly, you're glad you have a corner apartment and no shared walls in your bedroom. There would be no mistaking the moans of pleasure, the thorough banging of a headboard, and the slick sounds of Harry gliding in and out of you at a ruthless pace and consistency only a SEAL could.
You screw your eyes shut as he plunges impossibly deeper, so deep your sure he'll split you in half. He's relentless, not slowing down, not letting up. Harry plunges into you, again and again and again, you can feel the bubble rising ready to pop when he stills inside you, effectively removing you from the edge.
"Not…yet… want…to…see…if…i can…get…a…good…gush…from…you." He says in between deep, quick thrusts.
"Harry, I haven't squirted since college.
"Don't need you to squirt, just a good gush, I want you to drench my fucking cock. Makes me come harder, and I'm barely holding it back now you're so fucking perfect. Can you do that f'me? Be a good girl and gush all over m'cock?"
"FUCK!" You let out as his dirty words wash over you and make you want nothing more than just to please this hot as fuck man. Whatever he wants, you will give. Your vision goes fuzzy as you feel yourself tip over.
"Atta girl!" Harry praises you and flicks your clit just right, you can't help but continue to gush. A pleasured cry of, "Shit, yes baby," leaves his mouth as he spills into the condom.
After just a moment, he carefully pulls out and heads into your ensuite to dispose of the rubber. He returns with a warm rag and ever so gently cleans you up before tossing the rag in your towel bin. After which he climbs back into your bed behind you for a warm cuddle.
"Do you want me to stay, or would you prefer I head out?" He asks you quietly.
"Stay." You whisper just before falling asleep.
The next morning you awake to the sound of your shower running and realize that now is your chance. His wallet is still in his shorts and you quickly nab his military id before cloning it and returning the original.
When Harry exits your ensuite you're back in bed, eyes wide open as he steps out, towel drying his trimmed curls.
"Oh, you're awake. Hope you don't mind that I took a quick shower. If the guys catch me smelling like sex this morning they probably won't be happy."
"Instead you can smell like citrus and lavender?" They'll still know it's mine, I've used that stuff most of my life, helps me stay calm and it's not overbearing. Hell it's been in Mitch's house. From my sleepovers with Raina." You reply.
"Oh well, too late now. But I was thinking I could pick up a few things after my day and cook you dinner?" He asks, not being shy about wanting to see you again.
"Not tonight, I've got a full day of coding ahead of me. Won't be out of my office until late, like early morning late." You say as you walk him out. "Call me tomorrow?" You add with a wink. Harry smiles and then heads towards base.
*Harry's POV*
After a nice ride to base, on top of everything last night, I'm on fucking cloud nine. Y/N was just so fucking perfect, she's beautiful, intelligent, witty, and being in her presence is like rays of sunshine peeking through the clouds. She definitely has the spirit to be a category five hurricane, but she also just doesn't give a damn if she doesn't want to. The perfect switch, that complements mine real well. I'm practically daydreaming as I walk through the halls duffle in hand and badge at the ready. When I hit the cages, I change quickly before slapping on my tracking bracelet and slipping in my earbuds for a nice long run.
After a good hour, I swap my shorts and tank for the dive gear in my backpack. A waterproof earpiece from base command tells me where I'm headed and outlines a few details about my 'mission'. When the timer starts running down I'm quick to dive under and head towards the sonar signal. I diffuse fake bomb after fake bomb, inspect entrance hatches and disarm explosive after explosive meant to kill me and the rest of my team with tripwire traps and riggings. I go until my oxygen tank gets too low to continue at which point I head for dry land and a quick briefing with Mitch.
"The fuck are you doing looking into that op Harry?" Mitch hollers, glaring daggers at me.
"What op? I haven't looked at a digital screen other than my tracker and cell all day. I've been underwater for the last four hours, sir." I reply, having no clue what the fuck he's going on about.
"Prove it, pull up the tracker," he commands and I follow my orders without hesitation.
"Who was your acting command officer?" He asks, now clearly pissed about something else. "And give me your damn badge."
"Lieutenant Commander Danielson was my ACO sir." I reply and hand him my badge.
"With me," is all he says before leaving the room and I don't hesitate to follow.
When we reach Danielson's sector Mitch calls out, "Danny, were you Styles' ACO today?"
"Yes, Master Chief." Is the reply but Mitch is already turning to head somewhere else.
"Rai (pronounced Ray) tell me who hacked it." Mitch says to his Lieutenant daughter. She works mainly in command and is the youngest on her team of 5 highly trained data software mechanical engineers. Rai earned the respect of each and every person under her command with her impressive talent and knack for leadership she shows.
"Whoever hacked it, knows what they're doing, that's for sure, but it also wasn't actually hacked. It was cloned, meaning there's a duplicate of his id running around, but since they aren't the same composite I can't track the clone like I can the original." Rai explained.
"Just shut down his old one and get him a new one Rai, now." Mitch added before going back towards the cages. "Styles, go home and do some soul searching, see if you can figure out which of your little girlfriends or hookups or whatever you call them would've done this."
*3rd Person POV*
That is precisely what he does. He has some random movie on just for the noise, but he sits at his table making a list of all the people he’s hooked up with in the past 6 weeks. There was Britt, Katya, Grace, Brad, Liz, and you. Britt was a friends who sometimes hook up kind of thing. Grace was a really cute waitress at a diner on the pier. Brad is an intelligence officer for Seal Team 3 Delta, and Liz was on a layover to tokyo from New York that got grounded due to mechanical failures. You were obviously well, you. But something in the back of his head remembered Mitch saying ‘that op’ which could only mean your father’s op. However Katya was an American born to Russian parents who fled shortly before Putin took office. Her father was an officer in the Russian military, but not a fan of Putin. Which could make Katya seem unlikely to flip. With that he was down to two options, you and Katya. For your sake he hoped it wasn’t you, Mitch would take that personally, but Katya would be an international spy and Harry trusted his sense of someone’s character and Katya was very nice, Harry felt like she had a good head on her shoulders.
-The next morning-
Harry had an early briefing with Mitch to reveal where his soul searching led him. Walking into that briefing with unease swirling in his gut.
“Well?” Mitch asked him.
“I’m down to two, but I did bring all six names with me for you to look at as well.” Harry said to Mitch.
“Brad’s clean, we both know that, but I’ll have Rai look at the rest of these, wait, seriously?” Mitch trailed off towards the end having finally spotted your name. “No way she’s capable of that Harry.”
“With respect sir, her background is in computer science and analytics, she is extremely proficient in statistics and probability, and an eval was never done on her after that incident, as much as I hate to say it because I really do like her, we’ve no idea how losing her father affected her. She was raised by soldiers, she knows how to brush things off and make it appear like she’s coping well, she knows all of you and could easily manipulate how her emotions come off in front of all of you, which is why I consider her the prime suspect.” He states although his shoulders drop with the last part of his statement.
Mitch steps out for a few minutes and comes back with Raina. “Ask her, Rai knows Y/N better than anyone, and Rai this doesn’t prove anything.”
Harry explains his thoughts one more time and after a few seconds of deliberation and a deep breath Raina turns to Mitch and responds, “You want to know if Y/N has the skills required to pull off cloning a military id, my answer without a doubt is yes, she absolutely has the required skills, and I agree with Harry, she is excellent at masking her emotions, i’ve seen it, it hurts me to say this, but we do need to look into her. My best suggestion would be to send Harry in unannounced.” She finishes speaking, her voice conveying the warring emotions she’s currently feeling.
“Fine. Harry, any objections?” Mitch answers.
“None, Sir.” Harry responds.
“Then its on, I want you recording, it won’t transmit, we don’t want anything going up the chain yet, I still want to shield her from the worst of this if I can, right now I have to believe that she’s just a kid looking for answers. If only i’d tried harder to get them for her.”
*Y/N’s POV*
I wrap up an intense line of code before I start my 30 seconds of this hour in the military’s system. It’ll take approximately 4 days to complete that year’s worth of files doing 30 seconds each hour, but I designed this program myself and I know it will work. My VPN is completely untraceable during those 30 seconds and the same engineer would have to be watching the computer for 48 hours straight in order to see the pattern (the same 30 seconds of each hour, with 24 different combinations so that they only repeat the same 30 seconds on a military clock), because it looks like Harry is just scrolling through old files without opening any of them when they are actually being backed up to an untraceable cloud drive, where I can flip through them.
“Y/N? Are you home? I brought lunch.” Harry's voice sounds from outside my front door. I exit and lock my office quickly knowing the program will shut off and exit the navy’s systems by itself.
“Hey, I thought we said you weren't going to swing by today. Luckily you caught me while I had a few minutes of downtime from my project for work.” I say to him after opening the door.
“Yeah, sorry about that, they didn't need me on base anymore today, so I thought maybe I'd surprise you. I brought tacos.” He smiles sheepishly.
“You're lucky you're cute Styles.” I say with a smile.
After we finish eating, I go to make a move on him, sitting myself on his lap, but he surprises me by flipping us so that I'm in the chair, and being a kinky fucker he slips a pair of handcuffs around my wrists.
“I know you cloned my military ID and used it to hack into the navy's system, care to explain, something about a certain op.”
“I have no idea…”
“Please don't make this difficult Y/N, Mitch already knows. The system records who logs in and the exact time stamp, as soon as I used my badge and access code on base this morning before going for training, which I was dark for, they knew it had been hacked.”
“Harry I never meant to hurt you, that's not how this started, ok fine, hurting the navy is exactly how this started.”
“You are going to have to tell me everything, or Mitch and I can't protect you. Because for some reason, I have this need to protect you even after you hacked my military ID.”
“I haven't been the same person since before my father got killed Harry. His death is the reason I went into tech. After his death I threw myself into my degree, hoping that with time the details would be declassified, after five years they still weren't, so I tried making an official request, I just wanted to know how my father died, and not the bullshit hero excuse they use when trying to cover something up. Plus the team's story was too perfect, it was word for word, even I know that means they're hiding something. So I decided I was going to exploit my connection to 7 Alpha. You were hot, the guys were encouraging you to get with me, and frankly the sex was the best I've ever had. I hesitated that morning while you were in the shower, mainly because part of me wanted to see you again and I knew we couldn't once I actually cloned your ID. I've been chasing answers for so long Harry, and I am finally about to get them. I can't let it go, I won't let it go.”
“I know you won't, nor would I expect you to. Now I have to ask if you were planning on selling any of the information you retrieved to other nations, or putting it online anywhere?”
“No, honestly the thought had crossed my mind at one point, but I wouldn't be my father's daughter if I did. And he taught me to always get justice for those that can't get it for themselves. That was the whole point of being a SEAL. Truth, justice, and protecting those that can't from the people who mean us harm.” I wrap up and Harry pulls a device out of his back pocket and switches it off.
“A recorder, it's private don't worry, Mitch just wants to make sure we don't have to get command involved. He was blaming himself earlier. My hope is that we can forgive each other, because whatever this is between us, that's been going on for months, even though our first official date was three days ago, I don't want it to end either.”
“You… you can really forgive me for hacking the navy? Command isn't going to arrest me?”
“The teams are a family, one you were born into, they aren't going to turn on you. Especially when they all wanted to tell you in the first place. And someday, our kids will be a part of that family too.”
There was an awkward bit of silence for about a minute before the laughter broke out.
“Yeah, I can't believe I just said that.” Harry said, though the smile on his face told me he was seeing it too. This was just the beginning for us.
Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what your thoughts are!
-Ava
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harrystyles#harry styles blurb#hstyles#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#navyseal!harry#militarybrat!y/n#hacker!y/n#navysealrry#tktg#first post#harry styles series#harry edward styles#harry styles smut#harry styles fiction#feedback appreciated
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You Can Start a Family (Chapter 7)
Summary:
Reader joins Mitch and Sarah for Love on Tour! First stop, Slane.
Previous Chapters: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six
TW for this chapter: Smut
AN: My original plan for this chapter was to cover the entire time reader joins them for Love on Tour (aka Slane, Wembley, Cardiff, Belguim) but I once again got carried away. It's the longest chapter yet but only covers Ireland haha
Hope you enjoy!
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Mitch and Sarah love touring, but it doesn’t mean they don’t miss you. They have what they consider the best job in the world, but they’re still counting down the days until they see you again.
They love getting to do video calls, taking you on walks through the countries they’re in. They get excited each time you send an audio message because you want to tell them more information than you have the patience to text.
On more than one occasion, they’ve called or FaceTimed after a show, both too wound up to sleep right away. In the past they would just burn off that extra energy together in bed, but now they want you to be involved as well. Because of the time difference you’re normally just finishing dinner when this happens, and you’ve learned to keep your phone well charged even at the end of the day for situations like this. You love watching them together, listening to them tell you what to do with your hands, what they would do to you if you were all together. You wish you could be with them, pleasing them, but you admit this is better than nothing.
On a more innocent note, Mitch and Sarah absolutely love the adorable videos of you and Ryan that Tammy sends. There are videos of you both running around the yard, swimming in the pool, and tending to the garden. Their favorite is sent to them one evening shortly before a show. It’s of you and Ryan listening to Satellite and dancing. You’re both spinning around and then you begin to do the Satellite Stomps as dramatically as possible, sending Ryan into a fit of belly laughs so contagious that you fall over laughing as well.
Sarah’s the first to see the video and walks over to share it with Mitch. She hands him the phone and they watch together multiple times, huge smiles on both of their faces.
“That’s your new friend Y/N, right?” Harry asks. They both quickly turn, surprised to see they aren’t alone in their corner of the band dressing room.
“Yea, that’s her,” Sarah answers, handing over the phone to Harry who presses play on the video. He also breaks into a huge grin. He always loves to see people of all ages enjoying his music, and it’s easy to tell that you and Ryan are having an absolute blast listening to it.
“She’s cute,” he says. Mitch and Sarah both softly agree, eyes back on the video of you. Harry watches them, curious about their reactions. There’s a certain look on their faces, one that takes him a minute to place but when he does, he’s more confused. It was a look of love and adoration that Mitch and Sarah always reserved for one another.
Before he can ask about that he’s pulled away to finish getting ready for the show.
***********
After nearly 5 weeks apart, it’s finally time for you to take your first international flight to join them on tour.
You’re finishing up at work, ready to stop home, grab your bags, and head to the airport. As you leave, you thank Ryan’s mom again for agreeing to take care of your cats while you’re gone.
Meanwhile Mitch and Sarah are equal parts excited and nervous for the following day. They cannot wait to reunite with you, but it’s also Mitch’s first solo show and that comes with a lot of nerves. Sure, they’ve been touring forever, but this is different. It’s Mitch’s own music, his vibe very different from Harry’s, and he’s not sure what the fans will think. Not to mention it’s one of the largest crowds they’ve ever played for.
Once you get to your gate at the airport you call them, knowing that it’s around the time they’ll be getting into bed. One thing you’re excited about is being in the same time zone, tired of doing mental math every time you want to talk to them.
“Hi love!” Sarah says as she picks up. “Are you at the airport?”
“Yup! Just got to my gate. Wanted to check in before it got too late over there.”
“Well, you caught us at the perfect time then,” she replies. “I was just reading a little in bed, waiting for Mitch to join me.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Oh, he’s a bit nervous about tomorrow, I think he’s excited though. Harry’s been teaching him a lot of tricks to help with the nerves, so I think that has him feeling more confident.”
“That’s good! Do you think I’ll see you guys before he goes on?”
“You should. Mitch and I have to head over to the venue pretty early but everyone else isn't leaving until later in the day. You’ll be given all the details when you get to the hotel tomorrow, but I think the plan is for you to ride over with Elin and Ariza.”
“Oh, cool! I’m so excited! This is going to be amazing, and I cannot wait to see you both.”
“We can’t wait either. Oh, here’s Mitch, I’ll let you two talk a bit.”
There’s a pause on the other line before you hear Mitch’s soft voice. “Hey, babe,” he says.
“Hi, how are you feeling?”
“Good. I mean, nervous, but in a good way I think. It’s like, adrenaline maybe? Honestly, I’m just trying to focus on the fact that we’ll get to see you in a few hours.”
You melt a little at his words, and you can’t help but smile knowing that you’re going to see them so soon. It’s been hard going so long without them, and comments like this let you know you’re not the only one who’s been struggling with the separation.
You talk to Mitch and Sarah for a little longer, sharing stories to relax them so they can fall asleep and be ready for the following day. Once you hear that they’ve switched to their sleepy voices you wish them goodnight and hang up.
You’re too excited to read your book so you take a walk through the terminal while waiting to board. You’re unfortunately no less riled up on the plane, trying to sleep but managing only an hour or two.
Next thing you know, you’re landing in Ireland, finally in a country other than the United States for the first time in your life. You’re tired, and a tad anxious about all the unknown around you, but still thrumming with energy knowing that you’ll see Mitch and Sarah in just a couple hours.
You find the car that will take you to the hotel and the 30-minute drive passes quickly as you watch the scenery out the window. You arrive at the hotel, check in, and a minute later a young woman walks up to you asking, “Are you Y/N?”
“Yes, I am,” you reply.
“Perfect, you’re right on time! I’m Becca, one of the assistants for the tour.” You shake her hand, and she continues, “I have you leaving in 1 hour with Elin, Ariza, and Pauli to head over to the venue. Will you be ready then? If not, I could place you in a van leaving a bit later.”
“I will absolutely be ready in 1 hour,” you say with a smile. Sure, you’re tired and grimy from flying, but you don’t want to delay your reunion another minute.
“Wonderful, we’ll be meeting in the lounge on the 3rd floor.”
“Thank you so much!”
You head up to your room to shower and get ready. You’re glad your outfit hadn’t wrinkled in your bag, so that’s one less thing to worry about. You get dressed, put on your makeup, and style your hair. There are only a few minutes before you need to meet up with everyone, so you grab your bag and head over.
The past day has already been such a whirlwind, and it isn’t until you’re outside the door to the lounge that you remember how many new people you’ll be meeting that day. Not just new people, but musicians you’ve been admiring for months, some for years.
The nerves hit you as soon as you walk into the room and see Elin, Ariza, and Pauli sitting on the couches. They immediately look at you as you walk in, and you feel like the outsider walking into a Saloon in an Old Western movie.
The feeling only lasts for a second before all three of them break out into smiles and get up to introduce themselves. They’re all absolutely lovely and the drive over to Slane Castle is filled with wonderful conversation. You let Pauli know how much you love their new song Saucy, that you’d listened to it at least a dozen times since it was released the previous day.
In no time at all the van is pulling into the venue. You’re amazed at the size of it, at the beauty of the castle. For a moment you think of your grandfather, whose family had come from Ireland, and suddenly feel a moment of connection to him. You know he would’ve absolutely loved to see this place, even been excited just to know you were able to go there.
You’re broken from your reverie by the others getting out of the van, and you follow them to backstage area that’s been set up. Thoughts of your family are chased out by one single thought: Mitch and Sarah are here.
You try to be patient. After all you don’t actually know where they are or where to go, but it’s taking everything in you not to start running through the halls to find them. You continue to follow the other band members, assuming they’re heading to the band dressing room, and you’ll find Mitch and Sarah there, but you get stopped by another member of the crew.
There’s a moment where you’re scared that he’s going to question who you are and if you’re allowed there, but he just says, “You’re Mitch and Sarah’s friend? They have a Y/N on their list set to arrive at this time. Is that you?”
“Yes, I’m Y/N,” you say, amazed by the level of professionalism and coordination that goes into the tour.
“I’ll show you to their dressing room.”
You smile and nod, following him further down the hallway.
“They’re finishing soundcheck, but you can wait in there for them.”
“Great, thank you so much!” As soon as you finish your sentence he’s gone, onto his next task of this incredibly busy day.
It’s chillier than you expected it to be, and you look over to see Mitch’s bag in the corner. There are a couple sweatshirts inside, and you grab one to put on, hoping he won’t mind.
You sit on the couch that’s in the room, resting your eyes while waiting for them. It’s only a bit longer before you hear the door opening. You don’t even have time to get up before you have a lap full of Sarah. Her limbs wrap around you and your arms go around her waist, holding her as close as possible. She tucks her face into your neck, and you feel Mitch sit on the couch next to you both. He leans in, pressing kisses to the side of your head.
You look up at him with a smile before he checks the door is closed and firmly slots his lips against yours. It’s passionate, but quick. As soon as you break apart, Sarah pulls you in for a similar kiss of her own.
You blink at both of them, partially dazed by the intensity of the greeting you received, partially unable to believe that you’re really here with them. It’s been 5 weeks since you’ve seen them, and tears well up in your eyes at the overwhelming relief of being held by them.
“You’re here,” Sarah whispers as though she can’t believe it.
“I’m here,” you reply just as quietly. She moves off of your lap and Mitch pulls you onto his. You’re sitting sideways so your legs lay over Sarah’s, and Mitch’s arms hold you tight. You hold Sarah’s hand in yours, and just sit quietly.
No one knows how long you all sit in silence, simply enjoying being together again, but you’re interrupted by Mitch’s phone ringing. He’s only on the call a moment before hanging up with a polite “thank you”.
“There’s food set out for lunch,” he informs you both.
You and Sarah nod to acknowledge this but make no move to get up until your stomach starts to growl.
“Let’s get you something to eat,” Mitch says, and you finally force yourself off of his lap. They walk over to the door, and you take a deep breath before following.
“Are you alright, love?” Sarah asks.
“Yea, just nervous about meeting everyone else.”
“Well, you’ve got us, and you’ve already met half the band. How were they this morning?”
“Very welcoming. Pauli ended up in our van too, so we talked a lot about their new music.”
“See? Nothing to be nervous about.” She places her hand lightly on your back knowing that the touch along with her words would help ease your anxiety. You’re still slightly overwhelmed walking into the room where lunch was set up but find quickly that there’s no need to be worried.
You meet the rest of the band and enjoy some delicious food. After a little while Mitch gets up saying that he needs to start getting ready. Sarah stands as well, and you look at them, unsure if you’re supposed to follow. Mitch tilts his head slightly and you understand that he wants you to go with them.
It’s while you’re walking back to the dressing room that you meet Harry Styles in person for the first time. You’re grateful for the few times you’ve spoken on the phone or FaceTime because you’re able to keep calm and not fangirl at all. He walks with you all back to the room, wanting to talk with Mitch before his first solo set.
While the boys are talking, you sit with Sarah and watch her do her hair and makeup. She asks about your flight and what you think of the Irish scenery so far; all the small talk you avoided before lunch.
After a couple minutes Harry stands, saying, “Alright well I’ll let you guys finish getting ready. Y/N, would you like me to help you find someone to show you where to watch from?”
Before you can answer Mitch replies, “Actually Pete’s supposed to come back in a little bit to show her.”
“Oh, okay. Sounds good then. Y/N it was lovely officially meeting you. I hope you enjoy the show.”
You smile and wave as he walks away, all of you unaware of how closely he was observing your trio. Harry knew Mitch likes his time away from everyone, and assumed he would want no one other than Sarah before getting on stage, but here he is insisting this new friend stays. Harry also noticed how comfortable you and Sarah were while she was getting ready, small touches shared between you. He figures it could just be friendly, you helping her make sure her hair is exactly in place, but for some reason it seemed more intimate than that. Add on the fact that you’re definitely wearing one of Mitch’s sweatshirts and Harry finds himself once again curious about your relationship with the couple.
After Harry’s gone, they quickly finish with their prep and get dressed. There are a few minutes left before they need to get their in-ears and head to the stage.
You watch as Mitch crosses to the door, locking it. He first walks over to Sarah, pulling her in for a deep, searing kiss. It’s short, but passionate. He turns to you and does the same. It’s a kiss with so much emotion that it fills your whole body with warmth.
As he goes to pull away you quietly tell him how wonderful he’s going to do, how proud you are of him. He tucks his face into your neck, seeing comfort from your words and touch. He starts nodding and you know that he’s listening, absorbing what you’re saying and gaining a burst of confidence.
He steps back and then there are once again lips against yours. This time they’re Sarah’s and they press gently against yours in a series of soft, chaste kisses. You give her a similar pep talk and then she pulls away.
Everyone takes a collective deep breath and Mitch unlocks the door. You make sure your hair is okay and you and Sarah check each other’s lipstick.
A minute later there’s a knock on the door, and the same guy from before, that you’ve now learned is Pete, stands on the other side. You give Mitch and Sarah each a quick friendly hug and follow him out to join the audience.
Once you walk outside, you’re met with an insane sight that takes your breath away. A sea of thousands of people full of excited energy. You’ve already been given a Johnny’s Place wristband and will mix in with the crowd there when Harry goes on, but you’re led to a spot close to the stage for Mitch’s set. You also have a special badge that will allow you backstage again throughout the day.
You’re looking around at the crowd when you start to hear loud cheering. You quickly turn back to the stage to see them walking out. Mitch’s face isn’t giving away much of what he’s feeling, but you know him well enough to see a slight bit of nerves. He grabs the first guitar he needs and scans the crowd. In no time at all his eyes meet yours, and you smile. His lips twitch ever so slightly and while he doesn’t smile back you see him visibly relax.
You love every second of watching him and Sarah. They do an amazing job and Mitch’s voice feels like home to you. The second he walks off stage you start to move. Earlier in the day they had asked you to meet them back in their dressing room after the set, and that is exactly where you are headed.
The door is open, so you walk in to wait for them. It’s a few minutes later when they swiftly enter the room. Sarah closes and locks the door as Mitch runs over to you, picking you up and spinning you around before placing you back in front of him and crushing his lips to yours. You gasp and feel his tongue pressing against yours.
The kiss is over as quickly as it began, knowing you all will only have a minute or two of privacy before people come looking to congratulate Mitch.
You press your forehead against his, whispering, “You did amazing. I am so, so proud of you.” A huge smiles spreads across his face, and Sarah comes over to wrap an arm around each of you for a moment. You both turn to kiss her, then take another minute to bask in this wonderful moment together before breaking apart and opening the door.
It doesn’t take long for others to start filing in and out. You hang in the back, proudly watching as Mitch receives all the well-deserved praise.
After a while it quiets down, people heading back outside to watch the other opening acts. You peek out and watch a little bit of Annie Mac and Inhaler, but mostly want to stay close to Mitch and Sarah as much as you can.
Pete comes back partway through Wet Leg’s set to escort you to your spot for the show. You mix into the Jonny’s Place crowd and find a spot towards the side about halfway back. It may not be front and center, but you can tell you’ll be able to see Mitch and Sarah fairly well, plus you’re right next to the catwalk you know Sarah will walk down for Matilda.
You enjoy the rest of Wet Leg’s performance and spend the break watching the fans around you, feeling every bit as excited as them, until finally you’re all singing the end of Bohemian Rhapsody. The crowd is buzzing with energy and the cheering increases as the band takes the stage and the intro starts.
You’ve already made eye contact with both Mitch and Sarah, and you have a good feeling people are going to share the clip of the slight smile Mitch gives when he sees you.
Harry makes his entrance and you’re screaming with everyone else, before singing along to Daydreaming. After the first few songs Harry takes a moment to shout out the openers and you cheer especially loudly for Mitch.
You continue to enjoy the show, watching Mitch with laser focus during She, continually amazed by his skill and talent. As soon as the song ends you expect to see Sarah walk to join Harry, Madi, and Elin at the B stage but then Harry says, “We haven’t played this one in a little while so bear with me,” and you, along with everyone else, start to freak out about what song they’re going to do.
The first notes to Little Freak start to play and everyone screams before starting to sing too early, and you laugh remembering the same thing happened at the show you attended months ago. While everyone has turned around to watch Harry, you keep your eyes on the main stage, loving the calmness Mitch and Sarah exude as they play this slower, more gentle song.
After it’s over Sarah walks past, glancing at you quickly with a smirk. Mitch starts the into to Matilda and you take in the moment around you. The setting sun makes for a beautiful background, and you can’t help but be enamored by Sarah. Her gentle sway, her hands clasped behind her back, and her voice coming through as a perfect harmony to the others.
You’ve listened to this song plenty of times before, even heard it live, but it’s hitting differently now. The words “you can start a family” bring tears to your eyes as you realize that’s what you’ve done in the past months with Mitch and Sarah. They’ve accepted you fully into their relationship, and you’ve joined their family.
By the end of the song, you’re smiling and crying. Sarah gives you a genuinely warm smile as she walks back to the main stage, and you know that she understands just what you’re feeling at that moment.
It takes a minute for you to compose yourself but once Harry gets to the Satellite Stomps you’ve wiped away your tears and are focused back on Sarah; you can watch the stomps at another show.
You continue to have the time of your life, singing and dancing along to the music. Hearing Fine Line live is as magical as you thought it would be and you feel like you could continue to live in that moment forever. Harry gives a wonderful performance, and the instrumental at the end is perfection.
They take their short break before coming back and doing the last 4 songs of the night. You scream as you hear Sarah hit the drumsticks and Mitch starts the iconic intro to Medicine. Once Kiwi begins you start looking everywhere at once, trying to watch every extremely talented member of this band during the final song of the night.
The next thing you know Harry’s doing his signature whale move and the show comes to an end. You quickly make your way through the crowd, showing your badge to get backstage again. After following voices, you turn a corner and see the band walking in front of you towards the dressing rooms.
“You guys better meet us back here to hang out while we wait!” Pauli shouts as Mitch and Sarah break off to the other room. You slide in the room behind the couple and close the door before pulling them in for a group hug.
“That was amazing! Thank you so much for bringing me here!”
“We’re so happy that you’re here with us, baby,” Mitch says, squeezing tighter as Sarah nods her head that’s resting on your neck.
After a minute you all break apart and they change out of their concert outfits.
“C’mon, we’d better join the others,” Sarah says and the three of you make your way back down the hall to where the rest of the band is hanging out.
“Welcome!” Ariza shouts. “Congrats everyone on another epic show! Sarah, Mitch, Y/N, drinks are over there. We’ve got some time to kill so might as well keep the party going!”
You all grab a drink and the next thing you know, you’re in the middle of a post-concert party with the love band. It’s nothing crazy, and you enjoy the opportunity to sit and chat with Madi, the newest band member. You learn she was also born in Connecticut but had moved to Pennsylvania very early and grew up there. You’re familiar with the area she was raised in, having visited there with your family on multiple occasions as a child and you two talk about places that you’ve both been.
After a little while Pauli and Yaffra join your group, and you find yourself listening to their conversation while not adding much. Suddenly the fatigue starts to hit, and you realize that aside from the short nap you had on the plane, you’d been up for nearly 36 hours straight. Your eyelids start to grow heavy as you lean against the arm of the couch. You’re fighting to keep your eyes open and look over to Sarah. She immediately notices how sleepy you are and comes over to sit next to you on the arm and rests a hand lightly on your shoulder.
She leans down and quietly says, “Shouldn’t be much longer and we’ll be heading out, okay love?” You nod, and she starts to run her fingers through your hair, which does nothing to help you stay awake but is incredibly comforting. You’re grateful that Sarah is known to be a rather affectionate person, and you relax into the touch knowing that no one is going to question how close you two are.
You’ve nearly fallen asleep with your head resting against her side when a crew member comes in to bring everyone to the vans. The crowds of fans have finally cleared the roads and almost all of the buses have left.
Once you get to the van you climb into the backseat followed by Sarah then Mitch. Elin and Ariza sit in the middle row, and you all start your journey.
The drive back to the hotel isn’t very long, but at this point you’re absolutely exhausted and it’s only a minute before you’re asleep with your head on Sarah’s shoulder. She wakes you when you arrive at the hotel and keeps a firm arm around your waist all the way back to your room, seeing that you’re barely awake.
You hand her your key, too tired to get it to work, and she walks into your room with you while Mitch goes next door. Luckily you have adjoining rooms, and he opens the connecting door on their side while Sarah does the same on your side, so they can sneak you into their room with no one seeing.
Sarah helps you get changed, brush your teeth, and remove your make up before leading you to their bed where Mitch is already laying down. You curl up to him and pass out immediately.
You wake up the next morning with a person on either side of you. It’s familiar but also foreign after sleeping alone for over a month. You tuck yourself further into the neck of the person you’re facing, and the feeling of scruff against your cheek informs you that it’s Mitch.
Sarah presses closer to you from behind and you feel her start to kiss your throat as Mitch’s hands travel up and down your body. You may have been too tired for anything the previous night, but now you feel well rested, completely alert, and you don’t want to waste another minute before finally reconnecting.
You lift your head up and without even opening your eyes you start to kiss Mitch’s neck, moving up to blindly search for his lips. Once you hit your target you let out a sigh at the feeling of sharing this intimate kiss with him.
It starts slow and lazy, tongues casually sliding against each other. After a couple of minutes, you break apart and you turn to Sarah. You throw a leg between hers and lay on top of her. She pulls you in and you’re lost in making out with her, grinding down to bring pleasure to both of you.
She starts lifting your shirt off and the three of you remove your pajamas, glad you all slept in the bare minimum of clothes the night before. You climb back on top of her before trailing kisses down her body. Once you reach her center you swipe your tongue across the intimate area, and the sounds you pull from her is music to your ears.
As you add a finger to the mix, you feel Mitch stand at the end of the bed. He pulls up your hips so he can line up himself behind you. His hard length slides through your folds and your eyes roll back in your head at that contact alone.
“Are you sure you want to go bare?” Mitch asks, referring to a conversation you all had had over the phone a few weeks ago. Right after they left for tour you had a doctor’s appointment and went on birth control and were excited to finally feel Mitch without a barrier.
“Yes, yes, please, I want to feel you,” you reply. Mitch doesn’t hesitate another moment and slides into you in one slow thrust. When you feel him bottom out, you’re overwhelmed and pull back from Sarah for a moment. You rest your head against her thigh and take a few deep breaths. She gently pets your hair as Mitch runs his hands along your back. The combination of sensual and sweet at the same time nearly short circuits your brain.
After a moment you regain your composure and bring your mouth back to Sarah’s core and start moving your fingers again. The room is filled with the sounds of everyone’s pleasure, and it feels so right that the three of you are finally able to reconnect in this way and bring everyone to this state of pure bliss.
You know when Sarah is getting close and focus on helping her cross that finish line. You slide your free hand along her torso, hoping to ease her down after her intense high.
You’re so focused on Sarah it takes a moment to realize that Mitch has stopped moving. He pulls out and you whine at the loss.
“I just want to see you,” Mitch says as he gently manhandles you onto your back then slides inside you again. It only takes another minute before you feel the familiar pressure building, and you come, your nails scratching along Mitch’s back at the overwhelming pleasure.
After another few sloppy thrusts, Mitch is finishing inside of you and you think that you could black out at the feeling of him coming without a condom. You pull him in for a sloppy kiss as you both come down. He stays inside of you for a few minutes, having figured out early on that the continued connection after sex is something you crave.
Finally he pulls out and as always, gets up to grab cloths to clean everyone. Before he can get back Sarah is on top of you, sliding one leg in between yours. She leans down to kiss you, and after a minute you feel her start to grind against your leg. You shift until her leg is against your core as well, and the two of you work up a rhythm.
Mitch watches as you both come again at the same time, your open mouth kisses turning into practically panting into each other’s mouth.
After you’ve both caught your breath, Mitch helps you both clean up. You whine as the cloth touches your now hypersensitive core and you hear him murmur apologies.
Once you and Sarah are clean Mitch lays down next to you both, wrapping his arms around you and pressing light kisses to your heads.
You almost fall back asleep when Mitch asks, “What do you think about being a typical tourist in Ireland for the afternoon?” Your eyes light up and you nod vigorously.
“I think that sounds perfect!”
The three of you get up and move into the shower together. You all eat room service while getting ready and shortly before you plan to leave there’s a knock on the door.
Mitch goes over to answer and a minute later walks back in with Harry following behind.
“Good morning girls,” Harry says.
“Hey Harry!” you reply.
“What are you guys up to today?” he asks.
“We’re gonna head into Dublin for a few hours. Y/N’s never been so we want to walk around and explore a bit,” Sarah answers.
“That sounds fun!” he answers, looking between the three of you.
“You’re welcome to join us if you’d like,” Mitch adds. He’s known Harry long enough to tell that he was hoping for an invitation, though he’s not entirely sure why. It’s rare that Harry chooses to head into big cities when he’s touring, knowing the high likelihood of being stopped by fans.
“I mean, if you all don’t mind, I’d love too,” he replies.
You all head out and enjoy a wonderful afternoon sightseeing. Harry does get stopped a handful of times, but the fans are all lovely and polite. The last activity of the day is the Guinness Storehouse for a tour and dinner; after all the plan was to be a typical tourist in Dublin.
Harry sits next to you on the ride home and spends the trip asking you questions about yourself. You enjoy the conversation, but there’s a voice in the back of your mind that cannot believe this is reality, that you're just casually talking to Harry Styles.
At the hotel Harry follows your trio up to your rooms, which you find curious since you know his room is on another floor. You all stand awkwardly in the hallway for a moment before Harry say, “Well, guess I should be heading back. It was lovely getting to know you more today, Y/N.” He leans in to give you a hug, which you don’t expect and you lift your arms somewhat ungracefully in return.
“Good-night everyone, see you all bright and early tomorrow,” he says as he waves and walks away.
You walk into your room while Mitch and Sarah walk into theirs. You immediately get changed into pajamas and do your bedtime routine. You walk back into the other room and sit on the bed, turning on the TV to wait while the others finish getting ready.
Mitch is the first to join you and the first words out of his mouth shock you. “I think Harry has a crush on you.”
While seconds ago you were verging on sleep, you’re suddenly wide awake. “What?” you ask, sitting up to stare at him, eyes practically bugging out of your head at what you view as an absurd statement. “Why in the world would you think that?”
“I’ve known Harry for years, I’ve seen how he is. He was definitely watching you today.”
“Okay, so say you’re right. What do I do if he tries to like, act on that crush? How do I turn him down without telling him about the three of us?”
At this point Sarah has joined the two of you on the bed and says, “What do you guys think about just telling him the truth?”
You turn to Mitch to get his response before sharing your own. “Well,” he starts. “I trust Harry. He’s my best friend. Honestly, I kind of want to tell him the truth soon no matter what. It feels weird keeping something this big from him.”
You nod as you listen to him, and pause for a moment before answering, “You know him best. If you trust him then I have no reason not to. I’m fine with him learning about us.”
Mitch grabs your hand and you both turn to Sarah who says, “I think we should tell him. Hopefully there’ll be a time this week we can all get together again and explain the story.”
Everyone feels a sense of happiness at the thought of finally letting someone in on the secret. The three of you have a wonderful relationship, but there’s something about someone on the outside knowing that makes it feel more real somehow.
You all cuddle under the covers, Mitch and Sarah wrapping their arms around you. It’s your favorite place to be, and you quickly fall asleep.
It’s an early morning the next day in order to get to the airport for the quick flight to London. You sit in the window seat with Sarah and Mitch next to you, and despite how early in the day it is you find yourself filled with excited energy. It’s only been a couple days since your trip away from home started and you’ve already had so much fun with your two favorite people. You cannot wait to see what the rest of the trip brings.
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AN: Thanks you so much for reading this chapter! I hope you're enjoying it and would love to know what everyone's thinking so far!
Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @theekyliepage @numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry @ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess @houseofdilfs @shaquille-0atmeal-1 @kissitnhekitchen
#harry styles x reader#mitch rowland x reader#mitch rowland x sarah jones x reader#sarah jones x reader#mitch rowland x harry styles#sarah jones x mitch rowland x reader
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The Entertainer - Track 07 - Let's Hit the Road
Summary: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones, a young woman from L.A., meets Harry Styles, an up-and-coming musician and frontman for the band Wildfire. Told in first person from Sky’s point of view, she shares her journey and what it’s like to fall for a rockstar.
STORY PAGE
Track 07 Word Count: 3.2k+
It was mid-October when Halo and I packed up my little Volkswagen Beetle (that I’d named Lovely Rita three years ago) to hit the road for Wildfire’s first west coast tour. Their album had been released a couple weeks prior and was already getting decent reviews. Their first single was also getting airplay, and it always made me smile with pride when I’d hear it. As a combination release party and farewell/good luck, they had another show at the Troubadour where I finally got to meet Mr. Irving.
That’s what I called him, Mr. Irving. He’d insisted I not call him Mr. Azoff but simply Irving, but I just couldn’t let the Mister go. Because despite his small stature, he was most definitely a Mister. He seemed to be very fond of Harry though, which made me feel at ease.
“Don’t forget your camera!” Halo called to me from her bedroom.
“I’ve got it,” I called back.
I’d almost forgotten it, actually. When I had begun packing my suitcase, I suddenly remembered that it was still in my duffle bag that I’d taken with me to Chula Vista. I’d also forgotten about the film in it. Harry had used the rest of it taking photos at the Holiday Inn, but I had yet to get them developed. I was itching to know what they were, but it was too late now, so I’d have to wait even longer. Grabbing my new roll of film that Harry’d bought to replace what he’d used, I tossed it along with my camera in my tote.
“Aren’t you bringing your guitar?” asked Halo when I shut the trunk.
“Oh, yeah!”
Running back to the apartment, I grabbed my most prized possession from my bedroom and headed back down the stairs.
“Let’s hit the road!” I cheered when I set my guitar in the back seat.
Halo hooted as she got into the passenger seat and I cranked up Rita. I smiled as the sound of the Eagles played through my speakers.
“Put me on a highway
And show me a sign
And take it to the limit one more time…”
Yes…I took it as a very good sign.
Halo and I arrived in San Francisco just before three when we checked into our motel room. Although Lee and Deacon still weren’t crazy about the idea of us tagging along on the road, we’d made a compromise that we would stay in our own rooms and drive my car to and from the venues. They seemed to be cool with that, although Mitch and Harry made it a point to show their disdain.
I’d just gotten out of the shower, my towel wrapped around me when the phone in the room rang. Sitting on my bed, I answered it.
“Hey, you’re here!” cheered Harry.
“I’m here!” I echoed, glad I’d told him which motel we were staying in.
“We just wrapped up soundcheck, and I’m back in my room.”
“Are you excited?”
“Nervous.”
“No, you’re not!” I corrected. “You’re never nervous.”
“Gotta say, I kind of am right now.”
“Oh. Anything I can do?”
I heard Harry chuckle from deep within his throat. “No, don’t think so.”
“Okay…well, good luck! You’ll be great, I know.”
“Thanks, babe.”
I giggled when I hung up the phone, not at Harry, but at his nervousness. It was cute. If he was ever nervous before, he never showed it. And I doubted he would show it tonight.
After dressing in one of my favorite chiffon tops and bell bottoms, I sat on the bed and strummed my guitar as I waited for Halo.
“Hey, play that song you were working on the other day,” I heard her sing from the bathroom.
“What song?”
“From that album you just bought recently. Heart.”
I smiled as I tried to recall the chords. Then I let the melody take me to my magical place as I sang along to my own accompaniment.
“Ain’t it good to know you’ve got a place to go
Where the melody’s fine
Sometimes I’m not so strong
And even now I could be wrong
But if you love me like music
I’ll be your song…”
Halo applauded when I finished, her beautiful face beaming.
“You’re so good, Sky. Was that for Harry?”
I chuckled. “Was what for him?”
“That song. You want him to love you like music.”
I rolled my eyes as she turned to brush her hair in the mirror. I watched as she stroked it several times, then stopped and turned around again.
“Do you love him like music?” she asked.
I laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I asked. For almost as long as I’ve known you, music has been your one true love. Are your feelings for Harry like your feelings for music?”
I blinked, preparing myself for a response, but none came. I was tongue-tied.
“Uh huh,” Halo nodded, continuing with her hair brushing. “Thought so.”
I shook my head, my tongue finally catching up with my brain. “I don’t think my feelings for Harry are even close to love.”
“Really?” she glared at me in the mirror. “Coulda fooled me.”
“Seriously, Halo,” I argued as I tried to convince myself as much as her. “It’s no different from you and Mitch. He’s a musician. He’s…a rockstar. It’s just sex.”
Dropping her brush on the counter, Halo grabbed her folded wad of cash and tucked it into her bra.
“Sky,” she said, “you’re really talented. You have the voice of an angel. You could be just as famous as Joni Mitchell. But do me a favor…never become an actress.”
“Why?” I gave her a questioning look as I followed her to the door.
“Because, you’re a terrible liar.”
“If there’s a rock show at the Concertgebow
They’ve got long hair at the Madison Square
You’ve got rock and roll at the Hollywood Bowl
We’ll be there, ooh yeah…”
Halo and I blasted the Wings song with the windows down as I pulled into the parking lot of the venue. I felt it was the perfect song to set the tone for the evening.
It wasn’t a massive venue, but I was surprised to see a large crowd near the entrance. It actually took us a while to get inside, and once we did, it felt like it was just wall to wall people. I’d been to many concerts before, but this was the largest crowd I’d ever seen for Wildfire. Their album was barely out, so this kind of turn-out was proof that they were going to be hugely popular. This was only the beginning, I told myself.
When the band stepped out, the audience went wild. Halo and I hadn’t made it to the front near the stage yet, so we stood back and watched for a minute or two. It was actually pretty thrilling to see them from that perspective since we were always up front. The only other time I’d seen them from further back was at that country bar where I’d sat on my stool. This was very different. I got to watch the people cheering and singing along to songs I’d already known for months, but they’d only just recently heard for the first time.
I raised my camera in my hands and began to capture photos of the band, getting some really great ones of Harry.
“Look at ‘em!” Halo yelled in my ear. “They’re meant for this, aren’t they?”
I nodded, though my focus was not on they, but him. Only him. And yes, he was meant for this.
During the second song, I felt a push behind me and turned to see three girls making their way around us to get to the front. One of them, a blonde in a furry vest over a top very similar to mine, stepped on my foot in her horrendous clogs.
“Oww, son of a bitch!” I screamed.
The blonde looked back at me for a millisecond, a glance that told me she wasn’t sorry one bit, before her friends pulled her to the stage.
“You okay?” asked Halo, realizing what had happened.
“I think she broke my toe.”
“Can you wiggle it?”
I made a face when I noticed I could. But I knew it would be throbbing all night.
“C’mon,” Halo grabbed my arm. “Let’s get closer.”
Weaving through the crowd, we made it as close as we could to the band, directly behind the toe stomper and her friends. I found myself sticking my tongue out at the back of her head, but of course she never noticed.
It didn’t matter anyway because when the song was over and Harry did his welcoming speech, he spotted me and waved. I waved back and he grinned, giving a thumbs up before introducing the next song. The blonde’s friend to her right must have noticed because our eyes met quickly before she nudged furry vest. When she turned around, I raised my brows, waiting for her to say something, but she didn’t. She merely shrugged at her friend, then went back to ogling at the band, or whatever she was doing.
Halo and I pranced and cheered just like we always did. We didn’t really need to be the cheerleaders this time though. It was apparent by the end of the night that they’d made it. Anything from here on out would just be icing on the cake.
Harry gave a huge thank you speech before the last song, sending the crowd into another uproar of hoots and whistles. I almost thought he was going to cry from all the pride he must have felt at that moment. And rightly so. My own chest was about to explode, my heart could hardly take it.
He blew a few kisses out into the audience. When his eyes met mine again, he winked, seeming to blow me my own personal kiss. I smiled as I pretended to catch it and held it to my chest. Harry shook his head, his smile so wide and beaming so brightly that I thought surely he was the source of all light.
Toe stomper and her friends all glared at me then, and I felt Halo poke me in the side, no doubt finding humor in it all and enjoying herself.
“You know him?” asked the friend on the right.
I shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah.”
“She’s his girlfriend,” added Halo.
I glared at her with wide eyes, but it didn’t compare to the astonishment on the face of the blonde. Halo chuckled and looped her arm through mine. Then she pulled me to the side of the stage while the band finished their final song.
“I can’t believe you said that!” I exclaimed.
“So what? It’s pretty much true.”
“No, it’s not. Harry and I haven’t-“
“Look at ‘em, those girls are so jealous, they’re faces are turning green. Especially that girl who stepped on your foot.”
“I don’t want them to be jealous,” I disagreed.
“Why not?”
“Because…there’s nothing to be jealous of.”
Halo shook her head, exasperated. “Wake up, Sky, will you? Did you see how he looked at you? Did you see?”
How could I not? His smile was probably permanently tattooed on the inside of my eyelids.
“He wasn’t looking at anybody else like that. You’re the one he’s most excited to see out there.”
Though I wasn’t a hundred percent sure if I believed her, I felt a flutter in my stomach as the band exited the stage and Halo grabbed my hand again.
At first, the guard wouldn’t let us backstage. We begged and pleaded, and even turned on the charm but to no avail. Standing back with our arms crossed, thinking this whole tour thing might’ve been a bad idea, I suddenly saw a man in a suit make his way to the security guard.
“Mr. Azoff!” I squealed.
He frowned when he first turned his head, but when he realized who I was, he smiled.
“Hello, Sky. Please, call me Irv-“
“Mr. Irving, sorry,” I said out of breath. “They won’t let us back there. I don’t think they believe we’re with the band.”
“Everyone’s with the band, Miss,” spat the guard.
“It’s no problem, Monty,” Mr. Azoff explained. I wondered if he already knew his name, or had just read his name tag. “They’re with me.”
“Yes, sir.”
And just like that, Halo and I were admitted backstage with Irving Azoff, manager extraordinaire.
“There you are!” shouted Harry as soon as he saw me. He nearly jogged to me, making me smile from ear to ear. “Thought something happened to you.”
“It did. The guard wouldn’t let us in. But Mr. Irving came to the rescue.”
I could feel the grin still plastered on my face as his mimicked mine. Then he licked his lips, took my face in his hands and kissed me. Not just a peck either, but a full-on tongue kiss, right in front of everybody. Not that they were really paying attention. I had no idea what else to do other than melt.
“So glad you’re here,” he murmured when he broke the kiss.
“You were great.”
“You look great,” he added with a wiggle of his brows. His pointer finger ran down my neck to the V in my top that met my cleavage. “I like this.”
I bit my lip as I watched his gaze travel down my body. I could feel my insides ignite just as he shifted his eyes back to mine.
“Wanna stay with me tonight?” he asked, his voice low, but apparently loud enough that Lee heard.
“No.”
“What?” Harry and I both voiced at the same time.
“We agreed. No girls.” I looked over at Lee who sat on the sofa next to Deacon.
“No we didn’t,” argued Harry.
“Yes. That was the pact. Sky and Halo wanted to come, but we agreed only if they stay in their own room,” said Lee.
“All night?” Harry asked incredulously.
I held my hand over my mouth to keep from giggling, although in truth none of this was funny.
“Actually, Harry,” said Mr. Irving whom I’d almost forgotten was in the room, “I don’t think that’s such a bad idea.”
“You don’t?”
“No. So many bands start out strong and let the girls become too much a part of their lifestyle that they forget what’s important.”
I could see Harry’s shoulders drop in defeat.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Perhaps taking a vow of abstinence…or um…semi-abstinence might be the way to go for a while. I’m sure the girls will understand. They adore your music after all.”
I stared at Mr. Irving who gave me a gentle smile. I had to hand it to him. He was good.
“Bloody hell,” Harry muttered under his breath as he turned from me and walked to the other side of the room. “You guys are gonna make me a virgin again.”
Wildfire had two more consecutive shows after that, one in Oakland and another in Santa Rosa, both with great turnouts. I was so proud of Harry, I wanted to tell him. I wanted to show him. But with all the time on the road and having to sleep in separate quarters, our time together was limited.
Finally, the band had a free day between shows in Sacramento. Harry invited me over to his hotel, which in reality was another motel, just nicer than mine. We were both hungry, so we decided to walk the streets in search of something to eat. Strolling hand in hand, we talked about music mostly, and where else the tour was headed. Apparently, Mr. Azoff had them going further north to a couple cities in Oregon, but I wouldn’t be attending those. I still had a job back home that I had to get back to, at least for a while. Then I was going to be rejoining them when they got closer south again.
“So tell me, Harry,” I grinned, swinging our hands between us, “How do you like the tour so far?”
“Love it. Almost everything about it. But there’s one little thing I don’t like. In fact, I hate it.”
I paused my steps to look at him, a serious expression on his face, his brows knitted together.
“What’s that?”
“I’m going absolutely mad not being able to touch you.”
My own expression relaxed as I tugged on his hand.
“Who says you can’t touch me?”
Harry’s face brightened as his lips curled into a smile. Then he leaned forward and kissed me.
“Maybe…um…after we eat…we can…go back to the hotel.”
“Uh huh.”
“No sex though.”
“Nuh uh.”
Harry nodded, licking his lips. We found a McDonald’s and decided to bring our food back to his room. We sat on the bed and ate while trying to find something to watch on television.
“Ooh! Leave it there!” I instructed when I saw a glimpse of Ali MacGraw.
“This is a sad movie,” he groaned.
“But it’s one of my favorites.”
Grabbing his burger, Harry sat back against the headboard next to me. We watched the rest of Love Story, and knowing full well I would, I cried like the first time I saw it. Harry put his arm around me and allowed me to sob in his chest, getting his t-shirt a little wet.
“Sorry,” I whispered when the movie was over. “I always cry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. It’s sad.”
When I looked up, I thought I caught a little glimmer of wetness in his eyes too, but he quickly blinked it away and I wasn’t about to call him on it.
“Harry?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Remember when you told me songs are memories? And that even if it’s a sad memory, it’s okay? It’s a good thing?”
“Yes.”
“Do…do you have any songs like that? You know, that’s connected to something sad?”
Harry considered my question for a moment, his eyes staring at the wall. Then he blinked and looked at me.
“Joy to the World,” he answered.
“The Christmas song?”
“No. Three Dog Night.”
I burst out laughing. “Seriously? Why?”
“It’s actually connected to a lot of happy memories,” explained Harry. “Simon fucking loved that song. He was trying to be this tough kid, but no matter where we went, if that song came on, he’d stand up, clap and sing a long. Sometimes he’d change the lyrics.”
“Like what?” I grinned.
“He’d sing ‘Harrimiah was a bullfrog’,” chuckled Harry. “He started calling me that, too. He thought he was funny.”
“And you thought he was too.”
“Yeah.”
“You miss him.”
Harry blinked and nodded.
“But you have great memories forever.”
Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I took that as my cue. Something else was itching at me to ask him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
“I should get going.”
Harry walked me to the door where he kissed me again.
“Wish you would stay,” he murmured against my neck.
“Me too,” I agreed. “But…rules.”
“Aaagghhh fuck that! I feel like I’m in a bloody prep school. Stay.”
I sighed as I lifted my fingers to touch his lips. “Next time. I think maybe the longer we show Lee and Deacon - and Mr. Irving - how we can hold out and be big kids, the sooner they might decide to take the chains off.”
“Good point. But just know I hate this.”
“Me too.”
I drove back to my room I shared with Halo to find her on the phone with Mitch. I shook my head as I went to the bathroom. There was no way any of us were gonna make it through this entire tour.
Songs mentioned:
Eagles - Take It To the Limit
Heart - (Love Me Like Music) I'll Be Your Song
Wings - Rock Show
Three Dog Night - Joy to the World
I truly hope you enjoyed this chapter and found the humor in it, because re-reading it myself made me giggle all over again ;)
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles series#harry styles x oc#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry fanfiction#harry fan fiction#harry fanfic#harry fic#harry series#harry x oc#harry smut#harry fluff#harry angst#70s#70s harry#lhh fic#rockstar!harry
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As Long as You Are: Blurb #1
Warnings: none!! (that I know of)
Suggestion by: @tati813
Dividers made by: @firefly-graphics !!
thank you to those who are letting me use their names as users in my smau posts!! If your name hasn’t been used, I’ll be using them throughout my other posts! (real users are underlined/linked!)
ALaYA Series | Main Masterlist | send me things!
“So I was talking to Mitch the other day and—”
“Wait,” Harry cuts y/n off, “when were you talking to Mitch? Was I there?”
“What? No, he gave me his number the other day. I mean, you were there when that happened, but it’s because I had a question about—”
“He gave you his number?”
“Will you stop cutting me off?” y/n pushes Harry’s shoulder, looking at his face a little too long for his liking.
“Will you stop looking at me like that?”
“Like what? Like I know you’re just upset that I got Mitch’s number before yours?”
“Shut up.”
y/n and Mitch have been talking for the past 15 minutes about something music related that Harry doesn’t have enough knowledge about. It’s not that he can’t join the conversation, he knows that y/n would gladly include him in it, but he just doesn’t want to bother them. Do I not want to bother them or am I just being petty? He knows the answer, he’s being petty.
Harry hasn’t spoken in the 15 minutes they’ve been discussing music, only glances at y/n every so often, sighs, and then looks back at his phone. Harry isn’t even doing anything on his phone, he’s actually just swiping back and forth on his home screen pretending that he has important things to do and isn’t interested in their conversation. But he’s actually listening to the whole thing.
Harry sighs again, rotating his chair away from the direction of y/n and Mitch. Which is it for y/n, “Harry, do you want to join the conversation or are you just going to continue to sit there sighing like a little kid?” There’s a hint of irritation in her voice disguised and lightheartedness. There’s no response from Harry. He knows he’s most definitely not acting like a 28 year old.
“My goodness,” Mitch says, “he’s never like this. When he is, it's always when we’re talking shop. I swear sometimes my kid is more emotionally mature than he is.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s giving us the silent treatment. Should we just give him the silent treatment back?” y/n asks Mitch.
“Yeah… he’ll get over it eventually.”
“I just wanted to be in the conversation!” Harry breaks.
“Oh my gosh! He speaks!” y/n announces. “You are such a little kid my goodness. Were you jealous that you weren’t in the conversation? Mitch look!” y/n points towards Harry, “He’s literally pouting.” y/n laughs.
“You always talk to Mitch but I was your friend first.”
“And he finally admits it.” Mitch laughs.
“Well then come on over here and be in the conversation instead of just sitting there pouting the whole time.” y/n pats the open seat next to her which Harry gladly takes, scooting closer to her than necessary. y/n just looks up at him and smiles, leaning into his arm
“How long do we think it’s going to take y/n to realize that Harry has been waiting to talk to her the whole time she’s been talking to Sarah and playing with your kid?” Elin asks Mitch, who just smiles.
“Oh, she knows. She told me that she’s just going to continue ignoring him when he’s sulking. She said that he’s 28 not 4. If he wants to talk to her he can use his words.”
“Oh my gosh,” Elin laughs, trying to cover her mouth so Harry doesn’t hear, “she’s an absolute icon, I love her so much. Can we bring her with us on tour?”
“Harry, will you stop lurking? I think you’re scaring my kid.” Sarah finally says, glancing up at Harry who’s standing 15 paces behind y/n.
“He’s still there? I thought he would have given up by now!”
“Nope, he’s been there the whole time.” Sarah says.
“Wait! You knew I was here the whole time?” Harry asks incredulously. It’s now y/n’s turn to shift and look at Harry who’s leaning against a back wall.
“It’s a little hard to ignore the feeling of someone glaring at you. Harry, use your words. This little guy knows how to use them more than you do.”
Liked by pillowpersonpp, harrystyles, and 34,587 others
areyoulistening happy birthday to this absolute icon. it may look like he was bothered by me taking this photo of him, but i can assure you, he absolutely was.
Tagged: mitchrowland
y/nandharry Is this the brotp we never knew we needed???
tati813 nah this is the brotp we ALWAYS knew we needed
fanaccount30 HE LOOKS SO ANGRY IM SCREAMING 😭
noooovaaaaa I love the honesty in the caption 💀
harrystyles HE gets a birthday post but I don’t get one for my birthday??
↳ areyoulistening i didn’t personally know you in february!!!
↳ harrystyles Well I’m expecting a solid 500 word post about me for my birthday. @areyoulistening
↳ areyoulistening i’ll just post a photo of sarah and mitch for your birthday and thank them for keeping you alive since 2017 @harrystyles
↳ harrystyles I will literally end our friendship @areyoulistening
be-with-me-so-happily is harry upset that y/n didn’t post for his birthday BACK IN FEBRUARY??? 😩
pillowpersonpp He may look mad in this photo, but he smiled when he saw this post
mitchrowland I also really appreciated your musical rendition of happy birthday that you sent me
harrystyles YOU SENT HIM A MUSICAL RENDITION OF HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOO. I’m blocking you @areyoulistening ?????
areyoulistening then why are you still here 🙄 @harrystyles
tag list: @theekyliepage @tati813 @reveriehs @thomaslefteyebrow @mxltifxnd0m @gothmingguk @b-reads-things @noooovaaaaa (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!)
#i was gonna delay posting but I’m saying wtf and doing it anyway#alaya!timeline#alaya blurbs#harry styles blurb#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagines#harry styles writing#harry styles x y/n#harry styles imagine#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x reader#harry styles fake social media#harry styles x you#harry styles headcanon#harry styles
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Harry's voice breaking at around 3:52 while trying to dodge explaining 'If I Could Fly' is so heartbreaking 💔😭
Perfect being a love song and explaining it the way he did doesn't give me the impression that he wanted a forever with Blondie and marry her... If Taylor wanted something solid and to be sure that the person who she is with wasn't gonna bail on her someday out of nowhere then hearing lyrics like these might have been one of the reasons why she chose YB over Harry in late 2016:
I might never be the hands you put your heart in
Or the arms that hold you any time you want them
But that don't mean that we can't live here in the moment
'Cause I can be the one you love from time to time
https://youtu.be/fsv6KmlY9F8?feature=shared
Anon, ouch! That video—he was so exhausted; it felt like a precursor to the “this movie feels like a real movie” interview in Venice last fall—was packed with him trying to dodge answers about vulnerable songs. Awww, buddy.
A couple things about Perfect:
- It’s a co-write. There are sections that are (so very obviously) written by H, while others are written by LT. Some of the phrasing around being a flaky partner is wording that H never really uses when he writes.
- that said, H does have a collab with Jack on Alfie’s Song and it’s parenthetical title is “Not So Typical Love Song”. Kind of like how he describes this.
- this is the era he is writing Two Ghosts (which he holds for HS1), and perhaps also starts work on Hunger. He is really not certain what she wants, or how to move forward. In the past, he had agreed to be one of her many options (as described in JALBOYH). This songs feels like he thinks she wants that again. Like he’s throwing stuff at the wall to see what sticks?
So, maybe Blondie was put off by this? But look at some of his solo write lyrics on this very same album:
Does that seem like someone wanting to bail? Or this:
And the very first song he writes for his solo album (a story he retold this June on Wembley n4)? Is this:
He is convinced that they belong together, in all situations.
And what he is offering at 22 to a more mature almost 27 year-old whose Mom/closest confidante had cancer, is a non-specific future. One filled with love, certainly, but full of potential downside and risk, media scrutiny and proximity to people she wanted to avoid.
As he is launching his solo career, his main supports beyond notoriously silent Mitch Rowland are the Jeff Azoff connections. Many of whom were tied to the K-J family who’d made her life hell. Jeff’s Mom’s bestie is Kris; his sister’s is KKW; his girlfriend’s bestie is Kendall. Way, way, way too close.
And YB - high above the whole scene. Seemingly well-adjusted with a low key vibe, on the cusp of becoming the next big thing as an actor. Much less risk. A breath of fresh air at the time.
Except…we all know how the whole thing plays out: weak, mediocre man ultimately becomes resentful of Blondie and tries to make her small. Man, I hate that guy!
Anyway - thank you for the ask!
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What if Harry’s song lyrics aren’t always literal? Pregnancies and babies could be metaphors for other things, like projects or dreams. For instance, I’ve wondered if Kiwi might be about Harry’s relationship with the recording industry.
I think this anon really captures what I find frustrating about fandom discussion about lyrics (not really through any fault of its own - but just because the way it operates within discourse). The fact that 'what is Harry's song lyrics aren't always literal?' is put forward as an idea that might be pondered upon - as opposed to a baseline assumption that you'd need a lot of evidence before you acted as if it wasn't true - is infuriating to me.
I find fan discourse that treats lyrics as literally true and focuses on decoding them - one of the most tedious things about fandom, because of its lack of curiosity. Anyone who has listened to songwriters talk about their process knows that there's all sorts of different ways that songs relate to people lives, or not - and the starting point should always be allowing for these options.
When thinking about what the songwriter might mean a song to be about - or where the song might have come from for them (which can be interesting to speculate about - although they are slightly different) - I think it's important to start not from the lyrics themselves - but what we know about their process.
I think if you're going to speculate about lyrics - the important question to ask first is 'what do we know about how this songwriter writes and how they relate their writing to their life?' Otherwise it's like trying to guess what waterlilies look like after looking at a Monet, because you've seen both an actual Sunflower and the Van Gough picture of a sunflower.
And with Harry we don't have much to go on. He doesn't tell us much about what his lyrics mean to him or where they came from. To me there are two hints - both of which point the same way - and most of which mostly show how little we know.
The first is an interview with Mitch, where he mentions what he learned from Harry as a songwriter:
"It's a bit all over the place," he says. "The songs are all snapshots [of my life] but nothing's in order." The Grammy winner was keen to share his thoughts and emotions in a way that didn't alienate the listener, a trick he picked up from his good friend and frequent collaborator Styles.
"Maybe this is something I picked up being a fly on the wall with Harry," Rowland says. "He's always asking, 'How can I make this relatable?' And I often don't know the answer to that, but I tried to make the songs open to interpretation."
This doesn't tell us anything much about how Harry relates songs to his life - but it suggests that relateability to the audience is more important than specificity in Harry's songs (which is reasonably obvious from the songs themselves) and one solution is leaving the songs open to interpretation.
With two of the Harry's House songs Harry has presented a meaning that was not obvious from the song itself after the song was released - once directly with LomL and once indirectly with MFASR. I think that's very interesting when taken in context with what Mitch said (even if I think it's important to acknowledge that the meaning of MFASR in the video may not have been Harry's intended meaning when he wrote the song). I think that at least some of Harry's songs has a personal meaning that he's obscured. He's taken a feeling or experience, written a song about it, and then made it open to interpretation in a way that means that nobody would guess the original meaning unless they were told (the same is true of Ever Since New York)
That doesn't mean that's the only way Harry writes lyrics - I think it's reasonably clear that he intentionally plays into the fantasies he knows his audience has - although how he accesses that is a really big question. There are moments that casually match his life, but don't tell us much about any other aspect of the song ('I heard Jenny saying "Go get the kids from school"'). And there are a couple of songs that are linked to specific people - Cherry and Carolina.
All that I'm asking is that discussions about what Harry's album means from Harry starts from here - starts from what we do know. Rather than people just deciding that because they're making connections or want things to mean a particular thing - that's what they mean for Harry.
#The author doesn't have to be alive#but I do think if people are making arguments about the author's intention then it's important to go beyond the text itself
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I feel bad for the credible actors that have had to work alongside Harry. Since Fionn Witehead, it’s been more than apparent that none of these professional actors like him or enjoy having entire press conferences hijacked by his uncontrollable desire to be the centre of attention at all times. Florence obviously hates him, and why wouldn’t she? She’s an acclaimed actress who had to work her way up…sharing top billing with a random pop star who can barely hardly deliver a coherent sentence. David Dawson and Emma Corrin don’t seem to ~adore~ him half as much as his stans are pretending they do. Sure, they seem cordial enough — because they don’t want to be bullied relentlessly by his vicious fanbase. It’s all so laughable, honestly
It's fascinating. Even Angelina Jolie was very dismissive of him and when asked if her kids were excited to meet him she immediately pivoted right to how excited they were to meet Ma Dong-Seok after having watched Train to Busan. She also recently attended a Maneskin concert with Shiloh and looked very passionate about it, knowing all the lyrics... so far neither has shown up to a Harry Styles concert, despite how many he's done in the US.
I think also it's so noticeable he thought he could carry the cutesy little rogueish interviews where he'd sort of play off Niall or Liam and people would find him charming in contrast as they played the straight man and he'd get to do his little brattish thing, but in a way he thought was charming. Also him trying desperately to create these forced bromance/ship moments between them, something he immediately tried doing with Mitch as well but that flopped. Fionn was not interested in any of that and could see right through it.
I remember at the time not buying into the Narry bromance despite how many people in the fandom did. It was so clearly forced and a thing mostly forced by Harry. Niall was like Fionn, looking so tired by him and so exhausted by his need to steal the limelight and trying to be deliberately cutesy when it didn't feel natural or wasn't really how they interacted in private or in real life. Just a forced thing for the cameras. And what happened after 1D, Niall and Harry barely acted like the other was alive. Because none of that faux cutesy bromancey stuff Harry was pushing had been real, it had all been a thing Harry knew fans would eat up, and that was it. That's all Harry thinks about in these interactions. How will it play? Will the fans make a little montage of this? Will people talk about how charming and likable and fun I am?
It's very very noticeable how boring and tedious his supposed charm must get after a while. He acted like a self indulged brat in both interview sessions. First of course just giggling and giving dummy answers and trying to be cutesy to Gemma or whatever in Venice, then in Toronto he has to try and hog Emma's limelight and try and attempt a forced viral "cute" moment and totally tries to steal all the attention. It's so boring. And one of the reasons it's so boring is it's so forced. He doesn't even seem to really feel any of this. There's no real chemistry between him and anyone else as he does these things. It's all very him him him.
It's also clear that in private he does nothing to maintain these friendships or relationships. His social circle for years has just been the Azoffs, Winston, Corden, the Gerbers, Xander and girlfriend and now Olivia. That's literally it. A bunch of people most of us would steer well clear from. His fans want us to believe the most charming interesting endearing empathetic man on the planet has just managed to be completely friendless from everyone else by choice?
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#I am listening to Harry on Stern at work#Love to live in the future but fandom in the past#i am about 2/3rds through#i don't mean this offensively to any of my US friends#but god damn he's so very boomer and capital A american#also one of those moments where I am reminded that due to industry i work in and people i have in my life#i have the luxury of not hearing these stereotypical men/women divide thoughts#ugh#Harry is lovely#and I love how he never lets people put words in his mouth no matter how hard they try#BUT#my main take away so far is#failed!witch Harry Styles#the coven only keeps him for his wine and his houses proximity to lay-lines#and that when asked what he played Harry at first Mitch answers not with a song but with a fucking guitar tuning#no wonder Mitch and Sarah fell in love with him#also how many random 'old flats' does Harry own in the Stoke-Newington area to stow his musical life partners?#harry on stern
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BABY MAMA
A/N: woke up and just knew i needed to write about dad Harry, bc lets be honest, he is my fav. this fic is perfectly fine as a oneshot, but if you'd like, it could be a sequel to Grammy Winner Husband and Baby Grammy, i wrote things to line up with them!
PAIRING: Husband!Harry / Dad!Harry x Reader
WORD COUNT: 2k
masterlist
The arena is blowing up, the fans are screaming from the top of their lungs and Harry is putting out a show just as good as the previous ones have been. He is blowing the stage up, singing, dancing, joking around with the fans, enjoying this time he gets to spend with the people who got him to this point in his life. He’ll never be not grateful for what he has, what he is experiencing, no matter how hard this life can get sometimes.
“Dallas, how are you feeling tonight?” he asks in the mic as he walks back to his water bottle to have a few sips. The crowd erupts, the screams almost burst his eardrums, but he just chuckles, easing his thirst with some water before he returns to the microphone stand.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he teasingly asks, though the reaction is the same. Insane screaming. “Alright, let’s move this show on before you get bored,” he chuckles playfully, the band starts playing the next song and he is back at what he does the best. Performing.
Though not far from the arena, there’s someone who thinks there’s something he is even better at than performing. That person is you, and you’re one hundred percent sure Harry is best at being a father to your five months old son.
Owning the stage, putting out the utter best he can, Harry’s thoughts still wander away from the show he is supposed to be focusing on. He can’t help it, his instincts are just completely drawn to his baby in the hotel suit, dying to know how he is doing. Leaving for the show late afternoon was harder than usually, because baby Theo was having a fever and coughing quite badly. His heart was breaking that he couldn’t help his son, didn’t even know what could be done for such a tiny baby.
“Love, he’ll be alright, okay? The doctor is on the way, it’s gonna be fine,” you told him gently as he was cradling Theo to his naked chest, always so eager to be skin-to-skin with him. Harry kissed his soft little curls on top of his head before nodding, though you knew it was eating him away.
“Call me or Jeff if something happens, okay?” he told you, handing Theo over to you, who was finally asleep after fussing for hours.
“I will,” you nodded, but he cupped your face to make you look at him.
“Y/N, I mean it. I’ll come off the stage if—“
“You won’t come off the stage, Theo is gonna be fine, he just probably got a cold from the aircon at the greenroom in Denver. He’ll be here when you get back, okay?”
He knew this tone, this was your momma bear voice and he would never argue with you when you used it, so he just nodded, kissed you and then Theo’s chubby cheek before heading out.
Now as he is nearing the end of the show he can’t help but think about finally being back at the hotel with his wife and baby, though he won’t let it be seen how eager he is to get off the stage.
The last song passes, the whole arena blows up from the energy and he is throwing kisses everywhere as he heads off the stage, down the aisle that leads him backstage. As he puts on his mask he turns around one last time, throwing some more kisses around to his beloved fans before disappearing behind the curtains.
“Did she call?” he instantly asks Jeff instantly, who hands him his phone over, a text from you already waiting for him.
Doc just left, everything is fine, left some meds for bub. Love you Xx
Even though this is what you told him before too, he feels relieved that the doctor confirmed it, but he still can’t wait to see the two of you.
“Alright, get the car ready, I’m leaving in ten,” he tells Jeff.
“Got it,” he nods, not even daring to argue with him. He knows better than to stand between Harry and his baby.
His legs bounce nervously on his way back to the hotel and he jumps out of the car as if it was on fire, running inside in a rush. He swipes the keycard through the reader on the door and opens it quietly, scanning over the place for you and Theo and there you are, sitting in one of the armchairs with his sleeping son in your arms, your hand gently tapping on his bum. You must have just finished feeding him, because a rag is still thrown over your shoulder and your shirt is all wrinkled around your chest. Theo loves playing with the fabric while you breastfeeding him and Harry loves watching his tiny fingers grab onto it and massaging it aimlessly.
“Hey,” he breathes out, quietly pushing the door closed behind him before he walks over, kneeling in front of you. He kisses Theo’s forehead first, before pressing his lips to yours too. “How is bub feeling?”
“He is doing good. The doc gave him some meds for the fever and we have a syrup for the coughing. He said he’ll be fine in a few days,” you softly explain to him, nodding towards everything the doctor left you on the coffee table.
Harry grabs the bottles, inspecting them as if he knows anything about medicine and you can’t help but smile as he furrows his eyebrows, reading the packaging.
“Want to put him to bed?” you ask him, his head snapping up right away.
“Of course,” he nods eagerly. You both stand up and he carefully takes the little boy from your arms without waking him up. “Hey bubs, I missed you,” he coos at Theo and as you watch him sway with the sleeping baby, your heart could easily burst from just the sight of them.
You didn’t know what life would be like as a family of three. After Harry posted a picture of you with his Grammy award and your belly ready to pop, the whole world went crazy over the fact that Harry Styles is going to be a dad. Despite the buzz, you managed to stay hidden for the rest of your pregnancy and just three weeks after that post, Theodore Styles decided to come to the world. Harry cancelled everything for the first two months, it was just the three of you, showering in the joys of parenthood. You had all the ups and downs, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Then tour got rescheduled and Harry was hesitant whether it was a good idea to go on the road with a five months old.
“Sarah and Mitch are coming too, she gave birth a week after me,” you reasoned when Harry was about to cancel the whole tour. It took you some time to convince him that it’s gonna be fine, though you knew he would be extra cautious with Theo.
Now as you see him gently sway his way to the bassinet next to your bed, knowing that he just performed to thousands of people and now he is here with you and your son, you wouldn’t change it to some peace at home. Besides, you’re convinced tour is gonna do good for Theo, make him get used to people around him, not just the two of you or the grandparents and aunts. During the first night in Vegas, he barely spent an hour in your arms, everyone wanted a piece of him and you gladly let them befriend him, especially because he loves meeting new people, just like his daddy.
As Harry lays him into the bassinet and stands next to it with a lovesick smile on his face, you sneak behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smells so fresh, he surely had a quick shower before heading back to the hotel, but you’re already planning to seduce him to join you for a quick shower as well. He won’t say no.
“Watched a livestream for a bit, you were so good,” you hum, kissing his right shoulder blade and you don’t miss how he leans back against you. “Loved the shimmery outfit.”
“Yeah?” he chuckles softly. Reaching around, he pulls you forwards so he can wrap you in his arms, kissing your forehead gently. “I missed seeing you dance at the side,” he smirks at you and you don’t miss the reference to the old times.
On his first solo tour, when you weren’t even married yet he often caught you dancing like crazy at the side of the stage, it would always make him laugh mid-song and you loved hearing his giggles through the mic, so you often did it on purpose. A few nights ago in Vegas you did the same, but with Theo in your arms, a massive ear protector on his head so the noise didn’t hurt him. When Harry spotted you, he almost started crying, he mouthed I love youand then carried on with the show.
“I’ll be there soon,” you smile at him, cupping his face in your hands to pull him down for a kiss that’s more than just a peck. “Now, I need help with something,” you mumble against his lips.
“Anything, baby.”
“I need you to help me shower,” you tell him cheekily. He pulls back and stares down at you with a playful grin, his hands already wandering under your shirt.
“Oh, is that so?”
“Yeah, I need someone to wash my back and… maybe somewhere else,” you hum seductively and start pulling him towards the bathroom, peeking at Theo one last time, but he is sleeping so deep, the two of you can have some alone time.
“Alright, I could never deny anything from my favorite milf,” he grins, but you smack his chest with a gasp.
“Harry! I told you not to call me that!” you protest, the two of you walking into the bathroom not to bother the sleeping baby in the room. You start running the water right away so it can be nice and hot for you when you walk in.
“Why? You are a milf,” he smirks, so full of himself, already pulling his shirt over his head.
“Then you’re a dilf, just so you know.”
“Baby, my fans have been calling me that for years, even before Theo,” he chuckles softly.
“You were destined to be a dad,” you giggle, getting rid of your own clothes. “Hey, if Theo feels better tomorrow, we could maybe take a walk in that park we saw on the way here,” you suggest, but when no answer comes, you look at Harry and find him just standing there, fully naked, staring at you grinning widely. “What?” you ask, glancing down at your own naked body. Suddenly, you are way too aware of the weight you haven’t been able to lose after giving birth, the stretch marks on your waist and how you’re not at all freshly shaved. Just as you’d move your hands to cover yourself a bit, Harry grabs your wrists and stops you.
“You are so fucking gorgeous, baby,” he hums, dropping his head until his lips could reach yours.
“Stop being such a flirt,” you giggle, feeling your face heating up.
“It’s the truth! I have the prettiest baby mama and that’s a fact.”
He looks at you with so much love and adoration in those beautiful green eyes, it almost makes you cry, knowing that this man is your husband and you get to spend the rest of your life with him.
Wrapping your arms around his neck you kiss him hard, pulling him into the spacious walk in shower.
“Then come and get your baby mama wet,” you giggle against his lips, making him laugh with the ambiguous request as he shuts the glass door behind him, his lips hungrily kissing wherever he can reach and you’re pretty sure the hot water is not the only thing that’s steaming up the glass.
Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#dad!harry
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always you
how much better can the night get after a show? you’re about to find out
Word count: 6432
A/N: hi friends! i'm a bit emotional because as you know this is the second to last part of this series. i can't believe it's been months since i first posted the first part and all of you who supported me allowed me to create the story we have today. i'm so thankful you continued to read this story and i hope you continue to support me.
please remember to reblog! let me know what you thought!
warnings: fluff, smut
love on tour series // previous part
Little Rock, Arkansas
"¿Me vas a extrañar?"
No answer.
“Bueno, te voy a extrañar.”
There's a small giggle that escapes the toddler in your lap. The sweetest baby, always smiling and laughing with anyone. Calm and always up for a cuddle. A beautiful face who has so much to learn. When tour ends, there will be many things you will miss, but Sarah and her bub are very close on top; they'd be first if Harry wasn't already there claiming the top spot.
It's the second to last show, and you're on baby duty skipping soundcheck in favor of having time together.
"Going to make sure he's bilingual."
Mitch's low voice is welcomed with a giggle as his son quickly catches his arrival.
"More like trilingual. There's a difference between English and well US English," you joke.
Mitch laughs, stepping forward but makes no move to take back his son, who rests carefully in your arms. There's a small duck plushie in his hand before he extends it, waiting for his father to take it.
"Thank you, bubs."
"How was the rehearsal?" You ask Mitch seeing as he was the only one to come by. Sarah promised you'd get something to eat, but she hasn't made her appearance yet.
"Good. He is talking with Jeff about something for the shows. And Sarah is playing a bit more, said something sounded different."
"Ah, the two perfectionists," you mumble. "What would that make us?"
Mitch smiles a small one, "that would make us the better halves."
"I quite like that."
You and Mitch have spent a lot of time together over the few weeks since you joined tour. Mostly around Sarah and Harry, he was quiet and liked observing while you enjoyed keeping a conversation going, always trying to get to know more about someone. Mitch taught you to appreciate the quietness and take in what was happening around you. Being part of the moment is essential, even if we aren't adding anything more.
"Thank you." He expresses.
You shrug, "it's nothing," You smile down at the bub in your arms who is playing with the bracelet on your wrist, having a firm grip on it. "He's the sweetest and most calm baby I've ever met."
Mitch chuckles, "I wasn't referring to my son."
You frown, the bub in your arms copying the face you just made, making you laugh. "Then for what?"
"Making Harry happy."
You freeze for a second, meeting his firm stare before shifting away. "He would be happy without me. He's on tour, living his dream every night with his best friends."
"Don't sell yourself short, Bel."
"I know I've made him happy, I do. I just don't think you should thank me."
Mitch sighs, "Everyone sees Harry as a people's person, kind to anyone and always ready to help when needed. With you, you showed him kindness and openness he had never seen because he was always the one giving it. Sure, he knew the famous you, but by getting to know Bel, he could be himself and shelf away from the persona he wears around new people. He's allowed himself to be vulnerable and open. He allowed himself to feel every emotion, something he never does."
That's a lot to take in. You didn't see the ways he changed because you haven't had the chance to know him for years, but it feels like it. You realize there is so much still for you to learn and experience, but knowing that you've brought him happiness in a way that was noticeable to everyone around him is overwhelming.
You know you aren't the key to his happiness. Without each other, you're good people with passions and values, but together you only become an overall better person.
"Thank you, Mitch. That means a lot coming from you. I know what his friendship means to him, but to know you're also looking out for him is nice. Especially if I'm potentially not there one day."
"Potentially, meaning working, right?" He eyes you, weary of your response.
"Yes, Mitch, I mean for when I'm away for work, not anything else," you assure him. "Don't think I'd leave his side if I didn't have to."
He nods, "I'm going to miss having you around when we start up next year."
"Mitch, do you like me? I would have never guessed," you tease.
"Bel," he deadpans. "I'm sure you'll be a godmother to my son one day if you ever marry H."
"If he doesn't ask me to marry him, can I get dibs on your next child?"
"I'm sure he will, but yes, I'll allow it."
The smile on your face is wide, "you hear that pequeño, going to have me in your life for a long time."
Mitch chuckles, shaking his head.
"Oh, Mitch, I'm going to miss you as well."
Mitch nods, biting back a smile at your confession.
You know, if you ever needed someone in a time of need, Mitch is someone you can go to, you trust him, and he trusts you.
If there is anything you got from joining tour besides finding the love of your life is finding friendships in a lot of the people around you.
"Miss me?" Harry shouts, walking in, causing you to wince as Mitch just got his son to fall asleep. Sarah smacks the back of his head for being so careless. "Ow."
"My son is sleeping, be quiet."
"This is my dressing room," he whispers.
You shoot him a look; he gasps in shock. "You're all against me, rude."
You stretch out your hand for him to take, and he happily takes it, sitting on the open spot next to you, squeezing as close as he can to you. His head falls in the crook of his neck as he lets out a deep sigh.
Mitch shoots you a pointed look, seeing Harry snuggled up to you, a large smile on his face as you rub your hand up and down his back. You chuckle because you might not see it, but he does, and that must mean you're doing something right.
Safe to say, you hope to continue to bring him happiness.
"I'm going on a walk." You announce to the room of men discussing something you have no business being in.
"Bel, is that a good idea?" Jeff asks.
Fatherly concern has been more and more common for Jeff to show you.
"She's fine. It's Arkansas," Tom laughs, brushing off Jeff, knowing you'll be fine on your own.
That reminds you of a funny moment on a TV you watched once, "Arkansas? What the hell is in Arkansas?" You joke.
All of them stare at you, looking serious. Harry is the one to speak up. "Is that a reference to something, love?"
"Yes, to a series that made me lose my mind."
"In a good way?" Luis asks curiously.
"The worst. No, I won't share the name. It could one day come back to bite me in the ass."
All of them laugh, knowing in the industry they work that any kind of comment, malicious or not, could be seen that way.
"I just want to see Junction Bridge; it's a ten-minute walk," you plead, going back to the reason you interrupted them.
Before they can reject you, you look at Harry and muster the saddest eyes you could, and thank goodness you're an actress because you have him eating out of the palm of your hand in seconds.
He nods, causing a smile to blossom on your face, "she'll be fine."
"H!" Jeff scolds.
"Jeff, she's her own person. I'm not going to hold her captive." Harry holds his hand out for you to take. You happily accept it, holding it tight, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
Jeff sighs, "take someone with you then."
You frown. "Who? You're all busy?"
"I'll go," Luis offers, already getting up, closing his notebook, and handing it off to Tom, whose jaw drops.
"This is your job," Tom says, offended still holding the notebook.
Luis shrugs, "someone's got to keep the true star company." Harry laughs aloud, causing all heads to turn to look at him. "What? Offended."
"God, no. Rightfully respected. Good to know she's in good hands." Harry expresses.
"Excuse you, Styles. If anything, Luis is in good hands."
"Sorry, love. You're right." Harry presses a kiss to your hand before patting your thigh. "Get going then. Need you to help me get ready in a bit."
"Be back soon, friends!" You cheer, walking out with Luis right behind you.
"Call if you need help or security," Jeff yells before Luis can shut the door.
You laugh, going towards the back entrance, knowing fans must be waiting outside already waiting for will call tickets as well as early entrance.
Luis links his arm with yours as he lets you lead the way, "if we're in any trouble, we'll call for help, right?"
"'Course, 9-1-1 on speed dial."
Luis laughs, "I'm serious."
"We will, but I'm sure we can both handle ourselves." You try your best to assure him, with your level of fame, it's a bit hard going out but honestly with a significant chance of being spotted, but you liked exploring and seeing new places. It was even better-having company to enjoy it with.
You kept a conversation going with Luis about what his plans would be like for the holidays if he was excited for a break. He asks about gifts you want for the holidays, books that you've been reading, having told him you try to read a few chapters before bed if you aren't too tired. Harry and you have a no-phone rule, something he showed you as he focused on his book and less on the light of a screen. It was a big chance for you, seeing as you enjoyed reading on your Kindle, but Harry helped remind you of the importance of enjoying your own and relaxing and taking the time to get out of your head.
The walk was relatively short, and when you arrived, it was a sight to behold. The bridge overlooked the downtown and the river. You bet it looked even better at night or even at sunset. As much as you wanted to see that, you also wouldn't risk missing helping Harry get ready tonight. He had promised you that you would love the outfit for tonight.
"She's a beauty," you breathe out, staring at the bridge as if it would disappear if you looked away.
You stand, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, suddenly causing a pedestrian walking by to crash into you, all entirely your fault.
“Lo lamento mucho, amigo. Perdóname." You quickly apologize, speaking in Spanish as it's your go-to language when you're caught off guard and feeling embarrassed.
"It's cool, no biggie," The lady in front of you tries to brush off as if you didn't just make her drop her coffee. "It was bad coffee," she tells you, trying to ease the guilt written all over your face.
“Estaba distraída por el puente.” You point behind you, where Luis is now laughing to the side, not at all trying to help.
"Uh, I don't speak Spanish. I watched Encanto with my nephew this morning, but in English. That's Columbian. Is there a difference? I apologize." The girl starts to ramble on, getting more and more nervous, easing your nerves.
"Don't worry, I speak English. I was nervous," you try to assure her. You look behind you at Luis, who just shoots you a thumbs up. At least you know he has an eye on you.
"Oh, good." She breathes out, relieved. Then her eyes widened, "not like you speaking Spanish isn't good–just uhh…that I can understand now." She bows her head. "I'm sorry. I'm not normally this much of a mess."
"Me either," you confess.
"Well, of course not. You're Y/N Belmonte." You both wince as you let her words sit in the air for a second. "That just made this worse." You see her visibly deflate as if wanting the ground to open up and swallow her whole.
You shake your head, "surprisingly, the tamest conversation I've ever held with someone who recognized me. Besides, my boyfriend, he was pretty calm, although he did ramble a bit as well." You're surprised at how you let that slip so casually, but know you'll be fine. You've said no names.
"I'll happily be your girlfriend." She offers.
"That's sweet, but I'm good with one partner." You giggle.
"Me too. I have a girlfriend. You're her girl crush." She spills.
"Not yours?" You ask curiously.
"Well, we have this thing where we can't have the same, or we'll fight, so mine's Saorise Ronan."
"Ah, a fierce competition. She's lovely."
Her face drops at your comment, "the fact you say that so casually baffles me."
"Strange life." She laughs with you, and it's in that moment where you realize you still don't know her name. "I'm sorry, I never got your name. I'm Y/N; you're welcome to call me Bel. Feel like we're friends now."
Her eyes widened, "Well, Bel, I'm Gardenia."
"That's a beautiful name." You see her look away, knowing she must be blushing.
"Thank you, my friends call me Garden."
Your smile widens, "that is precious."
"Bel is quite nice as well," Gardenia assures you.
You scrunch your nose before laughing. "It is. My friend started calling me that a month or two ago, and it stuck. Can't believe I went so long without it."
Gardenia laughs with you. "Nicknames can be sweet or weird. No in between," you tell her.
"That is true," Garden agrees.
"Are you going to the show tonight?" You ask since you're so close to the arena and so close to showtime.
"I am. Surprised my girlfriend with tickets. Sitting in section 109, row 2." She says proudly.
"Oh, that is amazing. Those are good seats."
"You're here for the show?" Gardenia asks. Before you can answer, she answers, "well, of course, you are."
You giggle, "yes, New York was a short flight away, so I thought I'd come to enjoy the show."
"You're rumored to be a special guest at the final show in Long Island. Deuxmoi said it, and it's all anyone talks about online. Trust me, I spent too much time there. This was a nice surprise."
"Deux who?"
Gardenia laughs, full belly bending over. "Deuxmoi, this celebrity update page where everyone sends in their celebrity tips in code most of the time."
"Can you tell I'm not online a lot?" You wince. "I have full control of my social media pages, don't get me wrong, I just don't like being on there."
"Oh, I love posting photos of my girlfriend. Nina hates it but always makes sure to like my photos."
"That is adorable." You pout at the thought. You might not be able to share your relationship, but sending photos in your group chat is just as satisfying.
"I'm fortunate," Gardenia nods, lost in thought.
"Bel, come on. We got to head back soon. We still have to get your photo." Luis yells, seeing there is no end to your conversation.
You turn to him, giving him a thumbs-up, "give me a minute, please." He nods.
You look back at Garden and smile at her, "I wanted to see the Junction Bridge. Promised them I wouldn't be spotted."
Gardenia's face goes grim, "guess I ruined that, huh."
"No, you're fine, darling. I do have to get going. Got to sneak my way past the crowd back in."
Garden nods, "I've got to start getting ready."
"It was lovely meeting you." You tell her with a genuine grin.
"You as well, Bel," she emphasizes.
"Would you like a photo?" You offer before you go."
She shakes her head, a sincere smile on her face, "thank you, but no." Garden pauses, looking down at the floor before looking up at you, "this conversation was everything and more. Promise I'll keep your appearance here a secret."
"I appreciate that. Please do take care, Garden. Send Nina my love."
"You take care, too, Bel."
You lean in and give her a short hug before walking away, both going in different directions moving on with your life.
"So much for not being recognized," Luis says as soon as you approach him.
You shove his shoulder lightly, "shut up and take my photo."
Smiling at the phone doing silly poses, you think about the conversation and how nice it is to genuinely meet people who want nothing in return.
"Are you going to tell Harry about your encounter?"
"And not share the joyous news of being someone's girl crush and being asked to be someone's girlfriend in the span of ten minutes, of course, I will."
"He's going to be jealous," Luis sing-songs.
"He'll be fine when he sees I'm so flattered."
"You know if your relationship was public, then he'd definitely call out the fan."
You laugh, knowing fully well that Luis is not wrong.
Harry pouted the entire time you told the story, first for not being there to meet someone so kind, but also because she happened to ask you out.
"Seems I've got competition everywhere we go."
You roll your eyes, "okay, Mr. Dramatic. I doubt that."
He shakes his head, "Bel, you're everyone knows your name famous."
"As are you," you rebuttal.
"Yeah, but I'm not being asked out in person."
"Awe does that make you sad," you tease.
Harry rolls his eyes, "you're such a brat."
"Me?" You widen your eyes dramatically, hands resting on your chest. "Never."
"Yes, you. You told me the story to make me jealous."
You giggle because he's right. You love it when he gets possessive. Love it when he reminds you no one can love you like he can. Except, he can't right now. Meaning when he gives it to you later, the build-up will be high and even more worth the wait.
"Amor, I would never," you continue denying.
"Brat," he mutters affectionately, buttoning up his blue trousers. With that final step, he is done getting dressed. He never fails to take your breath away. His perfectly styled hair, rosy cheeks, and open chest were a sight you would never get tired of.
"You look beautiful, H."
The outfit for tonight is gorgeous. As Harry adjusted the button up the deep blue shimmery disco-themed top, you couldn't help but be mesmerized by the way it catches the light. Harry will look like a shining star more than ever on stage tonight. You told him to forgo the suspenders tonight, but he told you his pants slipped too much without it. It had to do with all the working out he enjoyed doing while touring. The boxing was hot to watch. You can proudly admit that you leave there a wreck each time.
"Think so?"
"I do. You are beautiful, rockstar."
Harry's blush is apparent as he looks at you with a look full of love, his eyes shining bright, and it's not due to the light in the room.
"Thank you."
"Think the fans will like the clean shaved face?"
Harry grins, "I don't care what they think as long as I know that my girlfriend does."
"You know I don't mind," you mutter, thinking about the difference you'll feel with his face between your thighs.
Harry tuts, pointing at you, "filthy."
You gasp in shock, "how dare you."
"You're filthy, Bel," he purrs out.
You hate how he makes you weak in the knees (you don't).
"Lies, I wasn't even thinking of anything."
"I highly doubt that," he steps closer to you. "Your brain always seems to be on the run. My girl doesn't know how to relax."
"Shut up, not true."
"It is."
He may be correct, but you're not admitting defeat. "We were talking about you, not me."
Harry shakes his head, "if I were to put my hand between your thighs and touch those pretty lilac panties you put on today for me, they wouldn't be wet?"
He smirks as he sees your breathing get heavier and your legs closed shut, shuffling away from him.
"Stop it. You don't even have time to help get me off."
"Oh baby, I have all the time in the world when it comes to you," he assures you.
Just as he trapped you against the wall, his lips close to descending on you, Tommy swung the door wide open, "H, let's go."
"For fuck sakes," he steps away from you, and know he's trying to think of anything to make his stiffy go away.
You shake your head, "you were saying?"
"I'm sorry, later." He promises, kissing your forehead before grabbing your hand and taking you with him to get a proper kiss good luck.
Showtime.
You feel sad about tour ending, and you weren't even here for the first show. You joined from St. Paul and never looked back. You honestly aren't sure what you'd be doing if you hadn't joined tour if you hadn't gone to that show in Minnesota. Honestly, you don't even want to think about it because thinking about it means a life without Harry in your life, and you can no longer think of a time without him in it.
You want him with you for everything, for red carpet events, long shooting days, but most importantly, you want someone to go home to. To be able to call or see him and know you're safe for as long as you're with him. Your love was genuine and pure, as was Harry's, and that is why you knew you'd be stronger than ever after New York.
As you kissed Harry, good luck; you took a look around as everyone was chatting and knew there would only be one more night of this beautiful environment you were lucky to be invited into.
"You alright, darling?" Harry asks as he's walked over to his 'soft goods' box; you smile at him as he gets in, settling easily.
"Perfect, excited to see you sing."
"I didn't pay her to say that," he tells everyone around, wanting to get everyone to laugh, and he succeeds as the room bursts into laughter.
His green eyes shine bright. "Love you, sunshine. This is for you."
With that, the box is shut, and he is rolled out, and soon loud screams can be heard as the fans watch a box roll down the long walkway.
"Let's go to our spots before loverboy has a heart attack for not seeing you in your spot." Jeff ushers you out.
"But I wanted to wish the band good luck."
You point to the closed door where they should be walking out of in any second.
"Can congratulate them after," Jeff laughs as he watches you pout.
Jeff drags you out, the lights are out, and the final song begins to play before he makes his way to the stage.
Time to enjoy the second to last show.
Since Harry had gone on stage, each song was brilliant; the crowd was attentive and sang along. Lots more screams and a tight pit. You loved the environment where everyone came together to enjoy their favorite artist and enjoy the music.
Today the show seemed to fly by, and before you knew it, Harry had begun to interact with the crowd. Reading signs and giving answers. You saw him stop in front of one and read it a few times before deciding to read it out loud to the crowd.
"Who's Y/N's favorite band member?" Harry reads.
Before he can answer, the band, in unison, replies, "me," making Harry burst into laughter.
"Do you think we should ask her?" Harry asks his band but also the crowd.
Your eyes widen because he's not seriously going to talk to you directly, right? No one, but Gardenia, the fan you met, knew you were in Arkansas.
Harry looks to be speaking quietly into his in-ear, and a few seconds later, a member from the team runs from the side and towards Harry with something in hand, his phone.
You let out a deep breath before panicking because your phone was about to ring. Jeff and Tommy look at you, waiting to see what you'll do, not saying anything leaving the choice up to you.
Harry is smirking, staring down at his phone, "it's ringing," he says into the microphone. He brings up the phone to his ear, and you watch your phone ring and ring.
You never answer.
Harry doesn't look your way at all; he shrugs, "that hurts, she didn't answer." The crowd laughs, "oh well."
"Try again," someone from the pit yells.
"One more, and that's it. She's a busy person and doesn't have time for little ol' me, "Harry jokes.
Your eyes widen, and you look at Jeff, "get me to a room quiet enough to silence the crowd and make sure it has a screen."
"Think the private showers should be good. They have that large monitor."
A friendly worker for the venue takes you back, with Tallulah coming with telling you she wanted to record your interaction. You allow her knowing it's going to make for good content to show your family.
Just as Tallulah closes the door, your phone begins to ring, and you see Harry staring down at it, probably staring at your photo. It was one from New York where you were smiling widely, showing off the large slice of pizza in your hand. He claimed it was his favorite, but truthfully he had a folder of favorites of photos he's taken.
You answer on the third ring, "hello," you greet calmly as if it was a casual occurrence to speak with him on the phone, and it was.
Harry gasps, putting the phone close to the microphone. "She answered." You giggle as you hear it through the phone.
"Bel, how are you? It's Harry."
"Know it's you, H. Got caller id, dork."
Harry chuckles, the audience does as well, "aish, sorry."
"Why is it so loud?" You ask before you fake a gasp, "H, aren't you on stage right now?" You bite back a laugh; someone should give you an award for this performance.
"Well, I am on stage." On the screen in front of you, he begins to pace, sharing a look with Mitch, who just shakes his head.
"Everyone say hi to Y/N."
Screams are heard on the phone, and you laugh with Tallulah.
"Hello, Little Rock."
"Where are you?" Harry asks.
"Home," you answer softly and watch as Harry's smile deepens.
"Good, that's good." He nods, "what were you doing?"
"Oh, you know…stuff."
Harry scoffs, "good answer, not suspicious at all."
"You really want to know?"
"Yes, that's why I asked."
"Just finished answering emails. Boring."
He winces, "should have made up something cool."
You roll your eyes, "geez, thanks, is there a reason you called during the middle of a show, H?"
"Yes, there is, thank you." He clears his throat before continuing on. "Someone brought a sign asking who is your favorite band member?" He tells you standing in front of the person with the sign who is now standing there frozen sign still above her head.
"Do you count as part of the band?"
"Yes, I do."
"Well, it's not you."
Harry's mouth drops in surprise, "ouch, break my heart, why don't you."
You giggle, "you want my all-time favorite band member or today's?"
"Are you saying you have a favorite of the day?"
"Sometimes."
"Okay, give me your favorite member of the day."
"Well, it has to be Mitch."
The crowd cheers, beginning to chant Mitch. The camera zooms in on Mitch, who just plays with the strings of his guitar, sending a nod your way in acknowledgment.
"Did you see his moves during Sunflower?"
"They were good," he agrees. "Wait, how do you know?"
You laugh, thankful for the save. "Not sure if you're aware, but a fan is streaming your show."
"Ah, lucky you then."
"So you weren't answering emails," he catches your lie.
"I was. I stopped after Sunflower. My best friend is still watching if you are worried about views."
"I was. Thank you for the assurance."
This man lives for theatrics.
"Can the band hear me?" You check-in.
"They can," he confirms, curious about what you want to tell them.
"I love you, Sarah's Band. Honorable mention to Elin, Niji, and Pauli; you're all incredibly talented. Oh and Sarah, I love you. Bye, everyone."
Tallulah finishes recording laughing to herself before telling you she'd be waiting outside. You focus on Harry, who has still not hung up.
Harry takes the phone away from the microphone bringing it up to his ear, "thanks for playing along, baby."
"Should have given us both an oscar for that performance," you tease.
"Pretty good, huh."
"The best."
"Think the show must go on." He frowns, knowing he has to hang up.
"I'll hug you in half an hour, now go sing and dance for me, rockstar."
"I love you.
"I love you, H."
Harry hangs up, handing his phone off before looking at the crowd who are waiting for him to continue, "you want to know what she said?" He pauses, letting the cheers die down, "well, too bad."
"This is Canyon Moon."
You walk out shaking your head at the moment and joining the others once more. Harry had a fun time, but so did you. You wonder what your friend in the audience thought of the moment, knowing very well you were in the audience.
You let that go and instead allow yourself to dance and sing. It would be one of your last times for a long while.
"Sweet Bel," Harry's voice echoes out loud through the quiet dressing room where it is now you too. There seemed to be a problem with the bus, and you were told to stay put. After Harry had come off stage, he tackled you in a hug apologizing for putting you on the spot like that, but also happy you went along with it. You told him it was okay because it was, and you enjoyed that. He made you feel part of the show instead of someone who watches each night.
You know this show will be one of the most talked-about. Luis had informed you that you were both number one and number two trending on all social media in less than ten minutes. The video was circulating all around like rapid fire. Something you'd never get used to was how fast news seemed to travel now, thanks to the internet and social media. You'd have to check if your friend in this state had sent you a message. You honestly wanted to know what she thought during it, if she was just as worried as you, probably less.
Now alone in his dressing you with no one to interrupt, Harry wanted to continue his earlier promise.
You could see the dark look of desire in his eyes and knew he wanted to ravage you. You were not opposed to the idea; he was a passionate lover. You always seemed to crave him, never able to get enough of him.
Except, as much as you wanted to say fuck it and let him have his way you, you knew there was a chance for someone to come looking for you.
"Amor, ahora no."
Harry shrugs, "I don't understand what you said."
"Not now, H," you repeat.
He pouts, "but I need you."
"Eres demasiado."
"That didn't sound nice, but it did sound very sexy. Gave me a proper stiffy now."
"Harry, you need to stop."
"Not until I get what I want."
"¿Y qué es eso?"
"You, mi sol. Always you."
"Dammi un bacio," Harry asks politely for a kiss in Italian, your only weakness.
You turn your head and eye the door seeing it's locked, not even questioning when he did that. You curl your finger in front of you, asking him to come close. You give in to him; you always will. The chase is something that gets you going just as much.
"Te amo," you whisper as he leans over you, his lips hovering over yours.
"Ti amo, mio sole."
His lips are yours are something you always welcome. The way he takes the time to get to taste you, not rushing a single moment with you.
His mouth tastes of sweet liquor from the drink he had with Mitch after the show. It wasn't something you were used to, but you welcomed it.
You felt the bulge of his erection press close to you as he leaned more of his weight on your body. You wanted him. You needed him.
"You're beautiful," he breathes against your lips.
"So are you, amor."
Harry and you explored each other with soft touches, no care in the world knowing there was no rush for now, even with the slight idea at the back of your head at the possibility of being caught. Not even that made you want to stop.
His hands worked their way to your breasts. His knuckle coasted over the stiff tips of your nipples, but nothing further. He was teasing you.
"Had me worked up all day, baby," he's shifting away to remove his pants and, in the process, pulling down your skirt. Your top is wide open, and your bra is pushed down.
"You enjoyed it," you smirk confidently.
"Never said I didn't."
Harry teases your entrance, caressing you slowly, getting you to squirm under him, wanting you to only scream his name and nothing else, conversation over.
"Need you, H. Please."
"How do you want it?" Harry asks, reaching for a condom removing the last two pieces of articles for both of you.
"However you want."
Harry smirks at how you're willing to give him everything he wants.
"Going to take care of my angel." He presses a kiss to your collarbone. "Treat you like you deserve." Kiss to your cheek.
"Always treat me well."
He grins, "well, let me be extra sweet then."
He fit himself on top of you, your legs tangled and gilded over each other in all the right places. You fell into a rhythm, and his erection nudged through, connecting with your wetness. You both tipped your heads back and moaned.
That small touch was electric.
"You feel so good."
He nudged himself into the cradle of your sex, and you needed him more than ever; knowing he was so close, he guided himself to your entrance and settled deep inside of you.
You wrapped your legs around his hips and pressed your body into his. It wasn't long before he began thrusting in and out of you. Both your moans filled the air, each thrust slow and steady as he gave you everything you needed.
You sighed and pressed your mouth into his shoulder, leaving kisses and biting down to muffle your cries from getting too loud. Deep guttural moans built in his chest and vibrated against your breasts. Closer and closer, Harry pulled her closer to your orgasm.
"Bel, baby," he breathed as he kissed your exposed neck.
"Harry, please," you moaned.
"I got you, baby." He assured you, brushing your hair back, wanting to take a look at your face as he helped reach your peak.
Harry thrust a few more times, his thumb playing with your clit moving in a steady rhythm, the pressure building quickly before it consumed you, passing through your entire body. It was magical as you relaxed back in his hold. He continued to grind a few more times before letting out a loud grunt, his arms trembling from holding back and holding himself up.
You reached up to cradle his face and kissed his lips. He responded back eagerly, letting you lead as he let himself go, releasing himself inside of you.
Harry sighed against his lips before letting his weight fall on you. It was a comfort, something that was welcomed, something you hoped he'd always do. It allowed you the chance to take care of him how he takes care of you.
"I love you,' he whispered against your damp skin, leaving small chaste kisses wherever he could.
You ran your hands up and down his back, enjoying the feeling that washed over you from the passionate and sweet lovemaking. Harry always made sure each time was special; this was no different.
You loved him.
You loved him with everything you had, and there was nothing more special than getting to share these intimate moments together in a new city each night.
You'd enjoy it because it was coming to an end, and soon you won't be getting him every day.
"You ready for New York, mi amor?" You ask Harry as he slips his sweater over your head, making sure you're warm before heading outside to the harsh air. Jeff had called ten minutes ago telling you to meet him outside at fifteen. You and Harry stayed cuddled on the couch for as long as you could and now were dressing to go out and ride on the tour bus for the final night.
"I am. Sad tour is ending." He shrugs but offers you a timid smile. "I love singing on stage every night and having all the fans there, but I'm ready to go home."
"I'm sad too. This has been the best few months," you confess, holding on tight to his hand that found its way to rest on your cheek, giving you the comfort you seek.
"Fell in love on love on tour, who would have thought?" He teases.
"Don't fall in love with someone else in the audience on your next tour," you joke, but there's a pinch of fear behind your words that you not being there will be a significant shift in your relationship, although that is unreasonable.
Harry's eyes soften, the smile is gentle as he presses his lips against yours. "I love you," he states simply. "I'm going to love you for as long as you let me and long after. Rest assured, I will fight for you."
"H," you whisper.
He grins, "it seems you're stuck with me. You alright with that?"
You nod, "there's nothing I'd love more."
thank you for reading <3 i adore you
taglist: @alienorknight @harry-is-my-sunflower @myfavfanficsever @springholland @michellekstyles @harryismyfwend @evanjh @onlyamylee @golden-hoax @itsmycorneroftheinternet @harryspirate @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thurhomish @thelovecayon @shawnieeboyy @dontworrysunflower
twenty-seven belmont park
#harry styles#harry#harry styles series#harry styles imagine#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles love on tour#love on tour#lot: little rock#harry styles fic rec#harry fluff#harry smut#harry angst#harry styles angst#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles x reader#harry writing#harry promt#harry series#pleasing#fine line#love on tour series
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Just wanted to say 2 things:
1)Love the fic where he proposed over a cup of tea…so sweet💗
2) we all know how H has asthma sometimes so…could u write something w/the reader helping him with an attack idk or during an interview/concert/family gathering do as u pls
A nice day
XOXO
firstly, thank you so much that’s so sweet of you <33 and secondly, um yes i would love to give this a go at writing for you! hope you enjoy;
Harry couldn’t breathe.
He was in a panic, completely terrified of the uncontrollable situation. He was having an asthma attack concocted with a panic attack and it was brutal.
“Shit,” Jeff whispered as he watched Harry breathe heavily and loudly on the floor. His friend was currently on his hands and knees trying to gasp for air, whilst dressed in his notorious Fine Line outfit.
It was the big night. The one night only at The Forum for the release of his new album Fine Line, hence the costume. He had been nervous all day, with shaking hands and a tendency to forget simple things. You had been with him all day; having a slow brunch together out in the Hollywood Hills and then just chilling around for the afternoon. You didn’t want to anything to strain his voice, so talking hadn’t been an option. That left you either to sleeping and cuddling, whilst watching a movie, or sex. Now you were all for sex, but Harry complained that he liked talking to you during it and so that got shut down pretty quickly. You didn’t forget what he whispered to your ear though just before you cuddled into watching Bambi;
“Keep your moans for later, you’ll be fucking needing them for what I have planned.”
But that was over two hours ago now. Harry had been whisked away to start getting ready, what with hair and makeup first. You’d left him to it, telling him you would just lounge around and wait for him. It was when he was getting into costume had you announced you were just going to go down the street to get some coffee from Dunkin’ - seeing as there were few of them back in England, where you most commonly lived with Harry. The problem was you hadn’t come back yet, and it was an hour later.
“Harry mate, you need to calm down.” Kid Harpoon told him carefully, kneeling down next to his good friend. Nothing was working though and Harry was too breathless to ask anyone for his inhaler.
It had started by thinking about how nervous he actually was for tonight. It was such a huge show and one of a kind too. He was playing his new album and it wasn’t even 24 hours old yet. There was so much pressure weighing him down that he couldn’t breathe - he was suffocating in the anxiety of his own mind and he couldn’t escape at all. Then because he was in so much of a panic his asthma hit him and added another reason to his breathlessness. It was finally made worst when he realised you weren’t by his side to help him. You weren’t there to quickly eliminate the asthma and focus on helping him overcome the panic attack, instead he had his mates surrounding him - crowding him - and they didn’t know the first thing to do.
“Sarah, where’s Y/N?” Mitch shouted, making Harry squint the thought away. He didn’t want to think about how something back might’ve happened or might be happening to you. Where were you? Sarah’s response did no better to help him.
“I don’t know.”
“Harry bud. Talk to us.” Jeff spoke, crouched down in front of him. Harry shook his head, tears running from his eyes as he began crying. The sobs were really harsh and embarrassing. The tears were heavy and mixed with snot running from his nose to pool on the floor below him. He was not doing well at all, coughing when the asthma choked him up. He couldn’t do this. He felt like he was in a small box and it was only getting smaller. He felt as if he were going to die. Genuinely.
“Does he look like he can talk, dickward.” Adam’s voice came from the other side of Harry, messing his head up even more. There was so many voices and he couldn’t focus on just one, but he didn’t want to. He wanted yours. He needed yours. You.
Whenever this has happened before he was always luckily in the comfort of his home, or the tour bus and always with you. So this was unfamiliar and terrifying. He was beginning to think you’d left him or you’d gotten seriously hurt, but he couldn’t do anything to help. He was stuck - paralysed to this position as his lungs collapsed in on themselves and his brain sped the same speed as a train. You were his comfort person and it was only ever you that he wanted in situations like these. Just you.
“Move out of my way. Move!” Harry thought he heard you and your voice, but he hated that his mind could be playing tricks on him in desperation for what, or whom, he truly wanted.
He felt someone crash on the floor in front of him and the almighty smell of lavender and soap hit him all at once. This time, he was glad to have someone sit so close to him, because it was you.
“Harry look at me, hey, hey. You’re okay. Look at me bubs.” You spoke calmly, trying not to sound panicked yourself, even if you were heavily worried. You watched as he looked up at you, eyes ridiculously red and puffy whilst his nose was dripping like a leaking tap. You wanted to rub his tears away and dab away the snot, but your main priority was on his breathing first. “Okay good, okay.”
Your hand went into your bag and picked out his inhaler. You shook it a few times, before putting it into Harry’s mouth. “On three, one, two, three…” Harry tried is best to breathe in and you pushed down on the canister. “Good, bubs, really good. Okay again, one, two, three…” You repeated and then a third time until you could tell that the wheezing of his asthma attack had disappeared.
“T-than…” Harry tried to mumble out, but couldnt because he was still in panic and his throat was so dry.
“Sshh you’re okay.” You turned to one of the crew members and asked for them to fetch you a bottle of water. You asked people to clear out of the room and leave you with Harry for a bit, knowing he wouldn’t settle in front of all these people. You sat on the floor, crossed legged, and brought Harry to lay his head in your lap with his body trailing behind. You offered him one of your hands to squeeze if he wanted to, which he appreciated, cupping both of his around yours. Your other hand laid to stroke through his gelled hair - that would no doubt have to be redone now.
Instead of going straight into talking to him, you sang his favourite lullaby to him in aid of calming him down. It always worked, or at least helped a little. You sang quietly, noticing the beat of his heart soften with every line you sung. You were by no means a professional singer like him, but he liked the way it was so imperfect and mellow. It calmed him to hear something so simple and so you. Whilst you sang the crew never came back with your requested water and you thanked them, before you were the only ones left in the room.
After you finished singing you noticed how calm Harry was, almost still - the complete opposite to how he’d been all of 10 minutes ago. It was amazing what the power of you could do to him.
“What colour are we feeling?” You and Harry had created your own little system by which you would let each other know how you’re feeling by a colour of the rainbow. You’d designated a meaning to all of them that only you two could understand and used them on the days when you weren’t feeling great, to help understand each other’s feelings better.
“The whole bloody rainbow.” Harry mumbled out and you passed the water around so he could take a few sips, to which he thanked you graciously for.
“Oi, you can’t have that as your answer.” It was a rule that you could only use one colour to some your most intense emotion in that moment, otherwise there was kind of no point to the system.
“But it’s true. I feel grey with confusion, blue with sadness, purple with frustration, yellow with fear and even light yellow with cowardice. Yet I feel pink with happiness and light red with love.”
“What about red red?” You teased, not being able to help yourself.
“What? Lust? Always, for you that is.” You leant down to kiss his head as he cracked a joke, showing you that your Harry was still there beneath all this worry.
“Tell me what the colours represent in real life.”
“Purple because I am frustrated that I had to have a panic attack right before the biggest show of my career. Yellow because I am frightened that nobody will like the album and it will be a complete fail of a night. Grey because I can’t choose one colour and focus on it. I.. I—”
You could tell he getting himself worked up again, so cut him short. “Bubs stop, you’re okay. Listen to me.” You tucked his hair behind his ear as if to open it up for him to hear better. “Don’t ever be frustrated with yourself for something like this. You are allowed to have moments of weakness; you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. Did this compromise your show? No. Did this show off how strong and brave you are? Yes. That’s what is important, therefore we can swap purple for dark yellow because you were brave. Which means yellow can also turn to dark yellow because you are so brave for doing something so huge and so wonderful. People already love the album H. Can’t get enough of it. Everyone will sing along to every word, I can promise you that. Or at least I will. You are amazing, so never undersell yourself. That’s important to me and for you. Bubs, you are so amazing for what you’re doing here tonight and I couldn’t be prouder of you. Yes, a panic attack isn’t nice and it isn’t convenient, but it just helps show how much you care about tonight and it going a success. That must count for something.”
He didn’t say anything for a bit and that was okay. He was most likely getting his thoughts together and mentally preparing himself for the greatest night of his life. You bent your body over so you could hug him, since his back was to your front, and just give him a squeeze to reiterate how proud you are of him.
“Y/N.” Harry spoke quietly, as your body encased his. You embraced his warmth and inhaled the beautiful scent that he was wearing. He both smelt and looked phenomenal.
“Yes bubs.”
“You know I love you right?” Of course you did, but it still made your heart flutter as crazy as the first time he said it to when he tells you now.
“I do.”
“And you know you’re it for me right?”
“Well.. I—” You didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself.
“Because you are.” Harry turned himself around, making you sit up so he could move. He was lying with his head facing upwards now, face looking less red and puffy, and staring right into the souls of your eyes. He looked magical. Beautiful. He thought the same of you. “And,” he moved his fingers to take off his S ring from Gucci, that probably cost more than your annual salary, and place it onto your ring finger of your right hand, “I give you this as a promise to share my last name with you someday.”
Seeing the initial of his last name sat on the finger opposite to the one he claimed he would one day put two more rings on, brought you to tears. “Harry…” You didn’t know what to say, you were speechless. You had never expected for him to do something as monumental as this and had never experienced it before to know how to react.
Of course you’d always dreamt of marrying him and being his for eternity, but never thought of it possibly becoming your reality. Now, Harry was completely devoting himself to you and only you and it suddenly all felt like the dream was settling in place.
“I swear to you Y/N, i’ll love you until the next lifetime and i’ll find you again. I love you so much, I can’t even tell you how much because it is so infinite. You’re so kind and patient with me and you see me for me, not for the Harry Styles, just Harry. I’ll never let a day pass without you on my mind and I think it’s because you were always meant to be mine. My heart is yours.” He smiled once he noticed you were crying, moving one of his hands up to wipe the tears away.
“How do I top that?” You whispered to him, but mostly to yourself. Both of you laughed.
“Just tell me you love me.”
“I do. I do love you Harry.” You nodded and then he sealed your confirmation with a kiss to his lips. You rested your hand upon his cheek, placing the coolness of the S ring upon his cheekbone, as he placed his hand under your chin to guide you into the kiss. He tasted divine and you smiled knowing that you got to have him like this, taste him like this, for the rest of your beating hearts’ days.
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ooh I think #7 and #17 from the blurb list would fit very well together! if you want!
THANK YOU LINDS <3<3
prompt list here, send a number!!
#7 If we both want to fit, we’ll have to cuddle
#17 Sleeping in the same bed for the first time
THIS IS 3K IM SORRY I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF SO PLEASE REBLOG LMAOOOOOO!!!!!
"This is my room," comes a gruff voice behind you as you keep looking out the window, taking in the greenery and the beautiful ocean.
See, you knew he would be here.
You knew, because Harry and Mitch were attached at the hip, and you didn't mind. You didn't mind seeing your ex every time you were invited to hang out with MitchandSarah & co, except when said ex decided to be an evil arsehole.
Perhaps, calling him an "ex" was weird, seeing how your time alone only consisted of you both getting high, mostly naked as he whispered the filthiest things in your ear and promised to make you feel good, be the best you've ever had. Other than that, though, he was an insufferable bastard. Since you never hung out with the man without your friends around–getting rat-arsed and high... and the activities that followed aside–, you didn't know if he was always this annoying.
He seemed to be getting along just fine with the others, especially Sarah and the other girls, so you had no problems scratching off the "women hater" off your list. And you can't ever recall him being this insufferable while you both were fucking which was, in his case, miserable. So, it was definitely annoying. You weren't that interested in him to think that he was being mean because he was secretly in love with you. That was a myth, a pathetic myth, wasn't it? No, you wouldn't steep that low. He was just an arse, full stop.
You turn around with an eye-roll, and within seeing his face, you nearly clench your fists like a ten-year-old. "Do you live here?" You ask, hoping the boring expression on your face is also detectable in your tone.
It's certainly not a surprise when Harry scoffs.
"I don't, but I picked this room first. Since, you know," he looks around, and walks further into the room, finally stopping at the feet of the bed. "You were late. As per."
"Oh fuck off. This isn't summer camp. Besides, I don't see any of your shit around. The room was empty when I arrived."
"If you bothered to look inside the wardrobe..."
Seriously, you find yourself thinking, how the fuck did you ever end up with this man. Naked.
There's a commotion downstairs, so you both turn to the door, but much to your dismay, there's no one coming to check up on you and hopefully, save you from Harry Styles' pathetic gob.
You turn towards the window again, eyes squinting briefly at the last bits of sunshine that's glinting from between the branches.
"Well. You shouldn't have left then. You weren't here when I arrived."
Harry shakes his head, and you swear you can see his nostrils flaring if you look carefully. Though, you just watch him with a smug smile on your face as he walks to the wardrobe and pulls open the white doors. True to his word, his clothes are there, perfectly folded, and for a moment you feel a pang of guilt before you look back up at his face and see the furrowed eyebrows.
"See. My clothes. I'm sure Sarah will sort it out for you, find you another room or summat."
"There's only three bedrooms. Can't sleep with a pregnant woman and her boyfriend, can I?"
"What about Rachel and David? Aren't you best friend's with her?"
"Harry, you're ridiculous. Just–" you wipe the sweat off of your forehead, feeling yourself grow hotter and hotter each passing minute. "–just sleep on the sofa. This is my first vacation this year. You go on holidays every week or so. Let us commoners have this."
"Oh, please. Didn't you have a girls weekend getaway or whatever the fuck in Soho Farmhouse two weeks ago?"
You can't help the scoff that leaves your mouth, and a raised eyebrow follows. "How do you know about that?"
"Because," he rolls his eyes, and slams the wardrobe shut. "You post seven hundred stories every day."
"You're a stalker."
"You sleep on the sofa."
You smirk, noticing how he avoided your previous statement.
To be fair, you hated posting on your story. Though, knowing Harry followed you on Instagram made posting on there fun, and seeing his username on the list of who watched your stories pop up at the very top every single time whenever you posted a story almost made you let out a mingy little laugh and rub your hands together, and scream "gotcha!".
"I won't."
"You're getting on my nerves."
"What a coincidence," you ignore the stare he's sending your way and walk towards your carry on, and start taking the contents out one by one, laying everything on the bed.
He watches with a scowl on his face, arms crossed across his chest, and a satisfied smile paints your features as you take out the toiletries bag next.
"Are you seriously unpacking right now?" Harry cranes his neck so he can see better. He looks ridiculous, standing in the middle of the room with arms crossed, but you refrain from saying anything.
In fact, you don't even answer him. Perhaps, you find yourself thinking, it was silly to unpack your underwear first. It wasn't as if you brought super "sexy" shit or lace everything. You can definitely feel his gaze watching your every movement as you take everything out carefully and place them on top of each other. With most of your underwear in hand, you get on one knee in front of the bedside table and open the drawer, placing everything inside and it's surprising how he hasn't claimed the bedside table yet.
"Look," he sighs. "I'll talk to Sarah, maybe you can sleep with her and Mitch–"
"–don't be stupid we're not making them sleep with other people because you can't be a gentleman and sleep on the sofa."
"Oh for fuck's sake," he growls, and you finally look at him, eyebrows raised in hopes of making him feel as stupid as he sounds right now. Unfortunately, though, he continues, "Okay, damn it, I'll sleep on the floor."
Fool.
"Common sense, Harry. Always pick sofa. No matter what."
"Were you born to make my life a living hell?"
"Look," you sit on the bed, and look around. "This is boring me to death. I'm sleeping on the bed. If you shut your gob, you can sleep with me on the bed."
Harry lets out an obnoxious laugh. "Just admit I was here first and you didn't bother checking the–"
"Yes, I didn't and what about it? I'm here now, aren't I? I'm on the bed, babes. Anyway," you get on your feet, and with one last look at him, you start walking towards the door. "I'll see you in a bit. I guess."
You both manage to avoid each other as much as you can throughout the day, and really, it wasn't that hard considering the good company of your friends, good food and good alcohol. You mainly helped Sarah and Rachel in the kitchen as the men lounged on the sun loungers, Mitch handling the grill and David helping you guys with the drinks that came in and out of the house pretty quickly with the way you lot consumed them like water.
You spend the night eating, laughing and drinking, sometimes singing along to whatever song played on David's fancy Bluetooth speaker, and everyone begins ushering inside with full bellies and most of them–except the very pregnant Sarah–with a tipsy smile on their faces.
You leave before Harry though, leaving him smoking his last cigarette by the pool while you run up the stairs and into the room, closing the door behind you. You quickly get rid of the romper and get your favourite pyjamas on, eyes searching for the orange makeup bag so you can take off the remaining makeup before bed. You knew it was silly not to do your night routine, but you still zip the bag closed with a sad expression on your face, not wanting to see your toner and night cream any more than you needed to as you throw it on the floor next to your bags. It's pathetic really, how determined you are to get in the bed before Harry can that you forego your whole routine and stick to some cotton pads. Though, plugging your charger and getting between the cool sheets make you forget all about it as you let out a sigh, and unlock your phone to do your nightly scroll before falling asleep.
As you double tap on a selfie, the door opens, and you hear him scoff, again. You keep scrolling though, and try to sneak a few glances at him as he makes a beeline for the wardrobe, and to your surprise, begins to undress. You try to stay calm, and not to think about how domestic this whole thing seems; being in the same room as him as he gets ready for bed.
Right, getting ready for bed.
You keep your eyes on your phone as his clothes hit the floor one by one, and when you look up briefly, he's got a pair of joggers on, and he's throwing the clothes he had on in the wardrobe.
He turns around, and find your gaze, and he rolls his eyes.
"I knew you'd be in bed, here, as soon as I heard someone running. Forgot you were a literal five-year-old," he mutters under his breath, loud enough so you can still hear him. "I'm not sleeping on the sofa."
"I love how you're basically arguing with yourself."
"Like I said, I'm not sleeping on the sofa. I didn't come all the way to sleep on a bloody sofa."
"Suit yourself. I guess we're sharing. Unless," you lock your phone, and place it on the bedside table. "You want to share," you shrug, adjusting your pillow and sigh at the cool fabric against your hot cheeks.
You can feel him thinking, the wheels turning in his head, and you finally hear the floorboards creek underneath his feet as he walks closer to the bed, and pushes the sheets off of you. The whole thing.
You blink in surprise. "Stop it, dude! What the fuck."
"I'm getting in! Fuck's sake, be quiet."
"You did that just to annoy me."
You're both quiet for a minute, Harry taking his rings off and then comes his socks, and he finally copies you, laying on his back on the bed. He covers the both of you, though you know it's not intentional since he couldn't do it without covering his own body with the duvet, and then he lets out a strangled sigh.
"The bed's too small."
"Are you calling me fat?"
"What?" He turns his face to you, and perhaps it's the first time he's looking at you– really looking.
His brows are furrowed, and lips turned downwards in a pout.
"I'm taking the piss, Harry. I know you're not calling me fat."
"Good," he says, though his voice isn't exactly soft. "I wouldn't."
"Good."
Silence.
It's unbearable.
Despite the hot weather, you feel yourself shiver, and you wish you were the only one in bed so you could do the whole burrito technique with the duvet. Alas... you stay where you are. You both do.
A dog barks in the distance, the high-pitched bark coming through the open window, and you can feel Harry breathing too fast beside you. You want to shout at him, tell him to fuck off and... not breathe too fast, though it sounds a bit too rude even for you, so you stay silent and wait for the dog to pipe the fuck down.
You try to turn on your side, because you could never see yourself fall asleep laying on your back like a vampire, but you almost fall, not anticipating the tiny space you've got going on. It's bad, and you know you're not going to get a good sleep. So, you find yourself contemplating about getting up and sleeping on the sofa because honestly, fuck him.
Harry shuffles next to you, presumably trying to find a good position to sleep in himself, but he lets out a groan and it startles you.
"What's wrong with you!"
"The bed's too fucking small."
"We've established that."
He sniffs, hands clenching the sheets around his body. "I don't sleep on my back. My back hurts."
You don't say anything, hoping for him to just get up and leave, go sleep on the sofa. He doesn't, though. It's another fifteen minutes before you let out another sigh, trying to get comfortable on the bed, and Harry copies you. You both turn on your sides, facing each other and Harry groans when your knee makes contact with his thigh, making you cringe in embarrassment. A quiet sorry leaves your mouth and he shakes his head, then turns the other way, facing the door.
"Fuck," he spits after a minute. "If we both want to fit, we'll have to cuddle."
"Cuddle? Fuck no."
"Just," he turns to you again, but the bed is too small for you both so his knees touch yours. "Just come closer. Either that, or go sleep on the sofa."
"Why don't you–"
"You're so stubborn! Come closer, I won't eat you or fall in love with you. Fuck."
You groan, but oblige for some reason, feeling your heart beginning to beat faster for some ridiculous reason.
It's been a long time, you find yourself trying to convince your heart. It's been a long, long time since you've been this close to a human being. Too long since you've cuddled with someone, so obviously you were going to feel a little excited, and weird. Yes, definitely weird.
You get closer and he lifts up his arm, you both sharing a look before you roll your eyes and place your hand on his wrist, placing it on your hip. He's quiet, eyes searching yours, and the crease between his brows are gone, and you want to laugh, because who knew it only took your skin against his to wipe that stupid grimace off of his face.
"I still think you're annoying," Harry mumbles, clearly sleepy. His hold on your hip becomes tighter as his thumb strokes your skin over the fabric.
"I know. Just shut up and sleep."
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