#fine line album blurb

[avatar-anna]

Champagne Problems

so...this is super long, the longest fic i've written in a hot minute. like 18.k words long. i wasn't going to post it until part two was underway, but i'm kind of excited to share it. here is the aftermath of champagne problems...

Part Two

*.*

"Don Perignon, you bought it, no crowd of friends applauded, your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems."

Your fingers moved across the keys of the grand piano as you mumbled softly to yourself, only loud enough that the voice recorder on your phone would pick up on it. This wasn't your typical method of songwriting, you weren't even sure there was a song to actually write; but the melody had been haunting you for days, pressing against your mind until you finally sat down and played it.

It wasn't often you thought of the events that occurred a year and a half ago. You usually did everything in your power not to think about that night, knowing that nothing ever good came out of dwelling on that particular wrinkle of your past. You only looked forward, sometimes hoping that if you didn't think about what happened, your memories of the worst night of your life would eventually disappear from your mind altogether.

But there was something about this melody that brought that night to the forefront of your memory. You'd played it over and over on the piano for a few minutes, waiting for the words to come. Your mind kept circling back to the past, and after trying to avoid it, you finally let emotion win out. No one was in the studio with you anyway, it would be safe to unlock that particular box. Just for a few minutes.

"She would've made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked up in the head," you said to yourself, the last part coming out as an afterthought. You laughed a little to yourself, remembering the disapproving stares and the whispers behind your back that people always thought went unnoticed by you. "But you'll find the real thing instead. She'll patch up your tapestry that I shed."

Despite knowing that leaving your would-be fiance was the right choice for you, breaking up with him was the hardest thing you'd ever done. It still hurt to remember that night, to recall the look of absolute devastation on his face when you stopped him from reaching into his pocket for the little velvet box you knew was in there. He didn't deserve to be wrecked so thoroughly, especially by someone like you. He had been sweet and kind and gentlemanly. He treated you like a princess and defended you to his family when they didn't approve. He was everything a man should've been to you and more.

And all you could do in return was prove his family right.

You stopped murmuring lyrics for a moment, letting that last thought float through the empty room on somber notes. You thought about your ex now, wondering where he was now and hoping he was well. You hoped he was in love and happy, that he'd forgotten all about you. He deserved all the best things that love could grant a person. You wanted that for him. You wanted someone who had the capacity for the kind of love he wanted to give.

Repeating the last few lines again, the next few thoughts came pouring out of you, the words carrying a bittersweet taste to them.

"Your mom's ring in your pocket, her picture in your wallet, you won't remember all my Champagne problems."

The song tapered off soon after that, and you realized there was nothing left in you to say. You felt lighter afterwards, as if pushing some of those long-forgotten memories out of you and onto the grand piano eased the weight you'd been carrying around on your shoulders for the last eighteen months. Quickly stopping the recording, you set a reminder on your phone to listen to it tomorrow and write down everything you'd said. The recording itself was lengthy, long pauses stretching between lyrics as you worked through your memories and attempted to vocalize them. Hopefully something was there to actually mold into verses and a chorus, if not, it was a rather odd but surprisingly satisfying therapy session.

Gathering your things into the bag at your feet, you stood up from the piano, stretching your arms above your head. It was easy to get lost in a good melody, but your poor body always paid the price if you spent too much time bent over a guitar or piano.

It was as you stretched that you realized someone was at the door. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching as you shouldered your bag and slipped your shoes back on your socked feet. He didn't say anything as you walked over to him, just stepped out of the way so you could walk out of the studio. Harry normally wasn't this quiet, in fact, he could be quite the chatterbox if the mood struck him. But his silence told you he'd probably heard more of your session than you would've liked. Because one thing Harry liked to do in all his chattering was pepper you with questions about yourself, which was annoying since you were constantly trying to have him not get to know you.

"Coffee?" was all he said as you walked toward the elevator at the end of the hall. The sleeve of his patterned sweater brushed against your arm, and you resisted the urge to lean into him. He always wore the coziest clothes when in the studio, and it made you want to walk just a little bit closer to his side, for no other reason than the feel of soft material on your arm and not the person wearing them.

Nodding, you said, "Sure."

Harry qucikly pressed the button when you reached the elevator, and you couldn't help but laugh a little. In the time you'd spent not getting to know him, you discovered that he was the kind of person that just had to press the elevator buttons. It didn't matter how many people he was with, it was like he took joy in something as simple as getting to press a button and watch it light up beneath his finger. He'd actually speed-walked to get ahead of you a couple times just so he could press the down button. It was kind of annoying, and perhaps a little childish, but you'd surprisingly grown to find it endearing. A quirk of Harry's that just made him who he was.

The ride down the elevator was quiet, and it wasn't until you were out on the street that he finally spoke. "I'm thinking about getting a pet."

You'd been bracing yourself for the inevitable questions about the song you'd been recording, and when they didn't come, your shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly, though you were sure Harry noticed. "Really?"

"Yeah. All my friends are disgustingly in love," Harry said with a playful shudder. "I'm feeling like a third wheel most days, so I thought I would seek companionship of the furry variety. Wait, that came out wrong. I didn't mean—"

You chuckled at his stuttering, at the flush creeping up his neck and warming his cheeks. "I know what you mean," you said, sparing him any more embarrassment. "So what are you thinking then? Dog? Cat? Hamster?"

"Well, you see, that's the thing," he said, quickly recovering from his chagrin. "I'm not sure I have the time necessary to devote to training a puppy, but I'm also worried about getting a cat and it absolutely hating me, and..."

You listened as Harry explained in great detail the pros and cons of each kind of domestic animal one could have. He spoke animatedly with his hands, looking at you with those big green eyes of his, as if to make sure you were following his train of thought.

You never planned on befriending Harry, and even now you weren't sure that whatever was going on between you was considered a friendship. You'd always been the type to keep to yourself, especially after what happened with your ex. You'd not only lost him after the break up, but friends too, friends who thought that what you did to your ex was despicable and reprehensible and not worth keeping a friendship over, picking sides when you hadn't realized there were any. It hurt to lose so many people in one fell swoop, and you decided soon after that you were better off alone. Except for your brothers of course, but all of you kept so busy that it was hard to keep track of one another on a good day.

Outside of them, you realized it was hard to hurt someone when there was no one around you to hurt.

But Harry was different. You'd seen him around the building where you worked on your songs—in the hallways, waiting for the elevator (after pushing the button, of course), at the vending machine, on your way out of the studio or while he was entering it to start his session. The first thing you noticed was that he was never alone. Well, that wasn't entirely true. The first thing you really noticed was his smile, how it lit up his entire face and showcased the most adorable dimples you'd ever seen. But since you refused to admit that, the first thing you noticed was that he was never alone.

Harry was always coming and going with one or two or sometimes three people around him. He was always engaged in some kind of conversation, his head always turned as he listened aptly to what his friend was saying. It seemed so odd to you that he was hardly ever by himself. It was like a foreign language to you, and you imagined your constant solitude felt the same to him.

"Anytime you want to weigh in here would be great."

"If you want a pet, get one," you said simply.

Harry rolled his eyes as he held open the door to the coffee shop a couple blocks down the street from the building where you both worked, as if he was expecting anything other than your usual direct way of speaking. "If you don't keep this conversation going, then I'm going to have to ask about that incredibly depressing song you were working on, so please, indulge me in the great pet debate of twenty-eighteen."

For the most part, Harry was a pretty easy going guy. He had no problem carrying a conversation, and knew when not to pry. As the months went by, though, he knew how to get you to talk, how to find trap doors in the fortified walls you kept around yourself before you even knew they were there. It would be frustrating if his questions didn't always come with an endearing smile.

So you shrugged, eager to steer clear of any topics regarding your past. "I don't know, I'm a little biased. I've always been a dog person. Buddy's my best friend."

"First of all, I'm offended by the fact that I am not your best friend, and second, since when do you have a dog?"

The conversation paused while you and Harry went up to the counter to order you coffees. Both of you went there enough that the staff knew what you liked—dirty chai for you and an americano for him. It also meant you didn't have to deal with the barista having a mini-freak out at the realization that Harry Styles was in their coffee house. People tended to interrupt your conversations with Harry regularly—on the street, in line for coffee, at the table—but he never seemed bothered by it. He always smiled and indulged in a couple minutes of conversation and the occasional picture before waving goodbye. He always apologized to you afterward, but after the first couple times it happened, you waved him off. None of it was actually his fault, and seeing him interact with his fans became something you actually enjoyed watching. And it was perhaps a very small reminder as to why you preferred to just write songs for other artists, not perform them. You didn't need that kind of attention. For Harry, he seemed to come alive like a flower in bloom.

You? You would probably just wilt.

When you and Harry sat down with your drinks, he raised his brows for you to continue. Wrapping your hands around your cup, you shrugged again. "I've had Buddy for about a year now."

"What kind of dog?"

"Mostly pitbull, I think. I found him in an alley behind a restaurant once, and I know what shelters do to pitbulls, so I adopted him."

You'd come to think of the whole thing as Buddy finding you.

"And you named him Buddy?"

"Yeah, I don't know, after Buddy Holly I guess." You'd grown up listening to classic rock because your brothers did, and the name just kind of made sense to you. And he was just so cute, he was your little buddy. Big buddy now, you supposed. You thought he deserved the cutest name for the cutest boy in your life.

The rest of your time in the coffee house was filled with chatter, mostly from Harry. He talked a little more about the Great Pet Debate, then about the project he and his team was working on. An album, though they were only just getting started seeing as Harry just came back from tour. He tried peppering you with the occasional question, knowing if he asked too many you'd clam up and shut down. It was almost like Harry knew that you were fighting getting to know him, but that it wasn't just him, it was everyone. He was patient with you for some reason, though, seemingly content to chip away at the brick walls around you. Even if all he had was a spoon.

"So...What were you working on at the studio?" Harry finally asked.

You knew it was coming, so answering didn't seem so daunting. "I'm not really sure. The melody had been in my head for days, and I finally decided to play around with it."

"A perfect non-answer from Y/n L/n, everyone," Harry said, though you knew he was joking. His eyes were crinkled with mirth as he hid behind his cup, his brows raising to give you a knowing look.

Nothing about your past was easy to talk about, so you just didn't. After your breakup, you didn't even tell your brothers the finer details, not wanting to relive it or face all their questions. It all brought you an overwhelming sense of shame and despair. But maybe there had been something cathartic about your session today and it left you feeling lighter and open because you found yourself sharing more with Harry.

"It...reminded of me and my ex, so I kind of just let it all out. I'm not even sure what I was doing constituted as songwriting, but," you looked down at your mug. "The melody dredged up some old memories, I guess."

"It sounded painful," Harry said, his voice taking on a soft, sincere tone.

You knew he meant well, but the sympathy made you skittish. "It's fine. It was a long time ago."

"Right, of course," Harry said, catching on to your mood change. "Well, um, my friends and I are having a little get-together of sorts this Saturday. You should come."

"A party?"

"No. A get-together. Very different," Harry corrected.

It made sense, the last time Harry tried to invite you to a party his friend was throwing, you politely declined, claiming they weren't really your thing. They weren't, but it was more that having friends wasn't really your thing.

You wanted to say no again, but when you met Harry's eyes, something in you hesitated. His expression was open, earnest, like he would genuinely be upset if you said you wouldn't come. You didn't quite understand why he wanted to spend time with you so much. Maybe you felt a little bad for always pushing him away, or maybe you were actually warming up to him.

"I, um...that might be fun," you said, not sure if it was nerves or excitement swimming in your belly.

The way Harry's face lit up made saying you would come worth it.

After a few more minutes at the coffee house, you and Harry went your separate ways, but not before he made you promise to join you on one of your morning walks with Buddy Holly. Something must've been in the air today, because you found yourself nodding before heading down the street away from him.

On your way home, you got a phone call from your oldest brother Evan. "Hey, Evan. How's life treating you in the Big Apple?"

"Just fine. It'd be a lot better if I got to see my kid sister more often. Are you still coming for Thanksgiving?"

Of your three brothers, Evan was the one who checked up on you the most. Perhaps that was the nature of being the oldest of four, but he had always been the most responsible, the one to keep you and your other brothers in line. Well, mostly your other brothers. But Evan had always looked out for you. He was the only one you told at length about your breakup. You'd confided in him all your life, and he was coincidentally the only one of your brothers you could count on not to go and beat up on your ex or his family.

"Flight's booked and everything," you told him. "Not sure if I can swing a trip to the lake house, though."

Despite your less than ideal upbringing, you and your brothers had all done pretty well for yourselves. No thanks to your parents, seeing as you all shared a dad who never liked to be with the same woman twice. But you and your brothers all stuck together through thick and thin, supporting and celebrating and sticking together despite the differing parentage between the four of you. And now you were all scattered, your brothers Andrew and Hayden were professional athletes and Evan was a bigshot lawyer. Once you moved out of your hometown, you really only saw your brothers for holidays. And the occasional surprise visit from Andrew, though that hadn't happened in a while.

"That's okay," Evan said. "Next time."

"Next time," you agreed. Then, "How's the family?"

"Good. Sammy's gotten so big. And Laura's already showing."

You grinned as you imagined Evan's family. He deserved a happy ending with a loving family after raising you and the idiots you called brothers. "Another team member for the family football game."

"Speaking of the family football game," Evan said, and you mentally cursed yourself. "Laura's been dying to know if she should set an extra spot at the table."

Immediately, your mind went to Harry, but you quickly whisked that thought away. "Nope. Unless Hayden's got a new girlfriend."

"Really? No one?"

You narrowed your eyes even though Evan couldn't see your expression. "Why are you fishing? Gossip is Andy's thing."

"What? I'm not fishing!" Evan spluttered, but you just scoffed and waited. Evan might've been a shark in the courtroom, but he'd always been terrible at lying to you. "Fine. Laura was reading one of her gossip magazines, and you know I don't pay attention to those, but you know, I might have seen someone who looks an awful lot like you pictured alongside a former boy band member."

Well, shit. You knew that was a reality of being Harry's acquaintance, but you'd always done your best to not pay any attention to it. So far it had done a good job, but now it was coming to bite you in the ass.

"It's nothing, Evan. He's an artist. I'm a songwriter. We work in the same building," you said.

"Fine! Fine," Evan said, and you could just picture him holding his hands up in surrender the way he'd done since you were a teenager. "I just thought I'd ask now and try to soften the blow. I'll just leave you to the wolves."

"Damn you, Evan," you muttered. Evan was the easy brother. It was Andrew and Hayden you had to look out for. They would interrogate you relentlessly, or worse, squeeze the life out of you until you caved. Sighing deeply through your nose, you said, "I will ask if Harry has plans for that weekend. And that is it."

"See? That wasn't so hard!"

You rolled your eyes. "I'll talk to you later."

"You love me!" Evan called just before hanging up.

The call ended just as you pulled up to your apartment. You sat back with a huff, marveling at the strings your brother managed to pull from thousands of miles away. But deep down, you knew Evan was just looking out for you. After everything that happened eighteen months ago, he'd been keeping a close eye. As close an eye as he could all the way from New York. But that was how things worked between you and your brothers. You all looked out for each other, and your older brothers acted as personal security guards to any and everyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way. It was both endearing and very annoying.

Very annoying. Now you had to invite Harry to Thanksgiving. Evan was so going to get it.

*.*

On Saturday, you found yourself standing in front of your mirror longer than you normally would've. Harry had used the term "get-together" as a means to ease your nerves, but now that the dreaded day had come, you realized you weren't sure what that meant in terms of dress code. Was this thing laid-back? What if casual still meant dressy to Harry and his friends? Harry usually walked around the studio in jeans and faded t-shirts, but he was still a celebrity. He could see this as an opportunity to dress up.

You looked at all the clothes spread out in your room. You'd changed an embarrassing amount of times now, but nothing seemed fitting for the occasion. I could always text him, you thought, biting your nail as you surveyed the tornado of clothes around you. Harry had given you your number earlier this week so he could text you his address. You hadn't wanted to, as it would open the flood gates for conversation outside the studio, but you eventually gave it up when he stared blankly at you after offering your email as an alternative.

Before you could think too long about it, you picked up your phone and sent a quick text. Before you even had a chance to set it down, Harry sent a reply.

Harry S: We're just chilling at my house. Dress as comfortably as you'd like :))

Well, that wasn't helpful at all, you thought, but didn't say to Harry. You went back to rummaging through your pile of clothes, creating a spot for Buddy when he ambled into your bedroom from the kitchen. In the end, you settled on something simple: jeans, platform shoes, and a colorful fleece jacket over a plain shirt. It felt silly to have wasted so much time on your wardrobe when all you were doing was going to see Harry. And his friends. And that was...intimidating.

The anxiety of meeting Harry's friends, of meeting anyone new, crept through you. You didn't want to go and face the inevitability of disappointing them. Your track record with friends was pretty abysmal. But you found yourself kissing Buddy's head and promising you wouldn't be gone long, and then you were getting in your car and plugging in the address Harry had given you.

The music playing in your car calmed you some. Etta James' voice was both familiar and comfortable, welcome feelings as you pulled up to Harry's house. House was a bit of an understatement, though. Maybe a villa, or an estate. The LA version of those sprawling castles that were all over Europe. Your shoulders were tense as you cruised up the long driveway, though your anxiety eased a bit when you saw that had seen about as much life and mileage parked up front as yours did.

Music was playing inside the house, you could hear the trill of soft guitar and the low hum of a male voice from outside, and you worried if anyone would be able to hear you as you knocked on the door. Thankfully, you only stood on Harry's doorstep for a minute or two, then Harry's familiar grin greeted you.

"You made it!" Harry said, pulling you over the threshold and in for a quick side hug. He looked down at you for a moment, his cheeks flushed and green eyes bright, perhaps from drinking. He shook his head a little before pulling you further into the house. "Come in, come in, everyone is just through here."

Harry led you further into his home, giving you a chance to look around. Despite the grandeur of the outside, Harry's house was actually quite cozy and inviting. Everything was in warm tones, and potted plants and bookshelves piled high with a mix of books and records with titles you couldn't read from this distance. His house looked actually lived in, which couldn't be said for some of the other celebrity homes you'd been in. It didn't happen often as you preferred to work alone, but you occasionally dabbled in writing sessions with other artists. Their homes looked much more modern, and much more cold, than Harry's did.

"My home in London is much smaller," Harry said, noticing your craned neck. Then he shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "But I liked the look of this place. It reminded me of a house I go to in Italy most summers."

"It's beautiful," you said. "I've always wanted to go to Italy."

"You've never been?"

You shook your head, admiring the arch leading into an open kitchen. "I was supposed to go for—"

For my birthday, you couldn't bring yourself to say. Gavin had planned a summer trip to Italy for your birthday, but that never happened. You surprised yourself by revealing that much, and by the way Harry's eyes lit up, you'd taken him by surprise too.

But he didn't press you to finish your thought. He just smiled and led you further into the kitchen. "Come on. You need a drink."

Harry talked while he fixed up your drink. He'd tried to persuade you to take a shot of tequila with him, his eyebrows wiggling up and down, a look on his face that you'd seen one too many times on your brothers when they were trying to stir up trouble. You declined with a laugh, opting for a glass of wine instead. Maybe a boring choice, Harry definitely thought so as he teased by saying, "Booooring!" but you needed to be sharp, and tequila tended to have the opposite effect, so red wine it was.

"Everyone's through here. I hope you like games because Kid brought a new one over and everyone has become quite invested."

Games? Is that what Harry Styles did on his evenings off? Play board games with his friends? Before you could ask, Harry led you into his living room, where everyone was in fact sitting around a rather spacious coffee table, a board game and playing cards spread out around it. It was a small group of about five or six. For some reason you expected more people, even though Harry said otherwise. They were all talking amongst themselves, talking strategy, you presumed, as you recognized the game as one of those territory-winning ones.

All the talking stopped, however, when Harry introduced you to the group.

You felt their eyes on you, judging, picking you apart where you stood. You began to curl in on yourself, wilting at the attention. Involuntarily, you took a step back, but Harry's hand was on your lower back, warm and comforting against you. You should've pulled away, but you didn't, thankful for at least some kind of familiarity among all the new.

It had been so long since you'd had to meet new people in a non-professional setting. You'd met with producers and artists and other industry people all the time, but there was always a wall of professionalism between you and them. You knew how to navigate that space with ease, but here, where people were sitting on pillows and holding playing cards, where you stood as the outlier among what was clearly a tight-knit group, you felt very much like a fish out of water. A fish in space.

"H—Hello," you managed to say, giving everyone a small wave.

One person got up. A young woman with short brown hair, winged eyeliner marking the corners of her eyes. Her smile was surprisingly warm, but what had your eyes widening even more was when she pulled you in for a hug, squeezing tight.

"I'm Sylvia," she said. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

"Finally?"

You probably shouldn't have said that, but you weren't expecting such a warm welcome.

"Harry talks about you constantly. I swear sometimes he purposely keeps you from us."

"That is not—That is not true," Harry said, speaking to you for a moment. He sounded serious, but his eyes were filled with amusement as if he was used to Sylvia's teasing.

Everyone else introduced themselves, and you tried to keep a smile on your face as you committed their names to memory. They were all part of Harry's "team" except for Sylvia—writers, producers, musicians. "And you?" you asked her as she pulled you down to sit next to her. Sylvia had insisted you be on her team while you learned how to play. She seemed nice, eager to get to know you, but you didn't trust it. Not yet.

"I'm a full-time mom most days, and a part-time life coach to this one," Sylvia joked. She seemed too young to be a mother, but you supposed they came in all shapes and sizes. "But I'm Harry's nutritionist. And friend when he's not being a pain in the ass."

There was a wry grin on the young woman's face that told you she was fond of Harry, and fond of teasing him, if said grin grew when Harry said, "Hey," was anything to go by. It eased your mind a bit, her kindness and obvious fondness for Harry. She spoke animatedly as she caught you up on the rules of the game and gossip from her yoga class. "They're all in love with that one, of course. Can't take him anywhere," she said with a nod in Harry's direction.

When you agreed to join Harry tonight, you figured you would spend your time with him. But Sylvia kept you occupied most of the evening, and he and his friends were rather invested in the game. You were content to watch, enjoying the playful bickering and shouts of surprise and celebration. It was interesting to see how they all interacted with each other. Harry and his friends sat and drank around his coffee table while you nursed your drink, observing with the sweet feeling of nostalgia swimming through your veins.

"Y/n?"

You jumped in your spot on the floor, your wine sloshing around in your glass a little. Thankfully, nothing poured out. You would've been mortified if you'd spilled red wine all over Harry's most likely exorbitantly expensive carpet.

Eyes flicking to a man with short blond hair, you said, "Sorry?"

Kid, you were pretty sure his name was, asked his question again. "Did you first start writing here in LA?"

"Uh...no. Nashville, actually," you said. "I lived in Nashville for a while before moving out here. But I...grew up in a small town just outside."

"You never told me that," Harry said, sounding both intrigued and a little hurt that you'd never shared that with him before.

Emboldened by your near-empty glass, you said, "You never asked."

That earned a few chuckles and a raised brow from Harry as if he'd just accepted a challenge you hadn't meant to create. But you read that look in his eyes with ease. Any look was quite easy to read from Harry. He was expressive, an open book. He was going to take this as an opportunity to ask you all the questions he'd been witholding.

Throwing back the rest of your wine, you avoided his eye and ignored the excited flip in your belly.

*.*

If it wasn't for your dog, you were pretty sure you wouldn't be able to keep up with Harry Styles and his impossibly long gait.

He'd kept to his word, insisting that he join you on one of your walks with Buddy Holly. It wasn't until a few days after you went to his house for the first time, but one morning before you usually headed into the studio, he texted and asked if he could join you for your morning walk with your dog. It took some convincing, which really only meant a series of uninterrupted texts until you finally relented.

Buddy took to Harry immediately, of course, though that wasn't a surprise, seeing as your dog was friendly with everyone. But it meant a lot to you that he seemed to like Harry so much. Buddy was a rescue, and you couldn't imagine the awful things he'd been through before you'd given him a proper home.

Now he walked on the sidewalk excitedly, pulling you on his leash as his stubby tail waved around wildly. Harry walked beside you, his curly hair pulled back with a little black claw clip, some of it sticking up in a cute tuft. As he walked beside you, you took the opportunity to study him. There was a little scruff on his cheeks and jaw, creeping down the nape of his neck. His jaw was strong and angular, his cheekbones sharp. Harry really was beautiful. You understood why so many people went so crazy for him.

"See anything you like?"

Warmth flushed your cheeks as you quickly looked ahead, even if the damage was already done. Harry rarely, if ever, caught you staring at him, mostly because it didn't happen often. But in the last few weeks, you'd found yourself admiring him more and more. The movements he made with his hand as he told a story, the mischievous glint in his eye when he made you laugh, the way his arms moved beneath his shirt, how his lips curled around a smile. You cataloged each mannerism, each vocal inflection, and after just a few weeks following that night at his house with his friends, you felt like you knew him quite well.

Shrugging, you feigned nonchalance as your eyes darted back to Buddy, who had stopped to sniff a tree.

You could feel Harry's gaze on you, but you tried not to squirm. His gaze pricked your skin, making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't have been feeling. It was uncomfortable and exhilarating, and you didn't like how much you were warming up to him.

Used to your wordless answers, Harry moved on. "You're making me rethink my decision to get a cat."

"You decided, then?"

"I think I'm more of cat person," Harry said. "Well that, and I think I've found the one, but I'm worried about all the traveling."

"It can stay with me," you said, eyes widening when you did. But it was true, you realized. You were close enough to Harry to promise that kind of thing.

"Well, in that case," Harry said, and you finally looked over to him.

His grin was wide as he looked down at you, and though you couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses, you knew they were more than likely squinted with mirth. You liked that smile, you realized. It was uninhibited, full of warmth and good intentions. You wanted to trust it, to give in to the friendship Harry was offering.

But you couldn't. Harry didn't deserve the abysmal companionship you offered in return, and you felt bad for leading him along when you knew you'd eventually fuck things up. You always did.

Your phone buzzing thankfully pulled you away from your thoughts. Looking at it, you saw a text from your brother, Hayden. You think Laura will be cool with a few football players in her house for Thanksgiving? it said, and you shook your head as you typed a quick reply, a small grin spreading across your face.

Hayden was only going to be in town the day of Thanksgiving, as he had a game the day after. You didn't think he would make it at all, seeing how full his schedule usually was, but he managed to squeeze it in. Apparently his game wasn't too far from Evan's house. As long as he, and his teammates now, didn't drink too much, they would be just fine.

You: I don't think so. Laura might put y'all to work around the house though.

Hayden: Seems fair.

Hayden: Are YOU bringing anyone home?

Hayden: Because I can sit you next to one of my teammates.

Hayden: I take that back. Forget I said that. No teammate of mine is going near my sister.

Rolling your eyes, you stuffed your phone in your back pocket. Harry was looking at you with a curious gaze, and you scrambled to explain yourself. "My brother," you said. "Apparently he's inviting some of his football buddies to Thanksgiving this year."

"Does he play at university?" Harry asked. You could almost hear the eagerness in his voice at the opportunity to learn more about you, and while sharing in general made you squirm, your brothers were fairly easy to talk about.

"He did. He's in the NFL now."

"Oh nice You must be—Wait what's his name?"

"Hayden?"

Harry stopped walking for a moment. When you tried to stop too, Buddy protested, tugging the leash, and the wrist you had wrapped around it pulled uncomfortably. Murmuring a quick apology, Harry kept walking, keeping pace with your energetic puppy.

"Your brother is Hayden L/n?"

You nodded. "I'm guessing you've heard of him then?"

A bark of laughter slipped from Harry's lips. You'd never seen him so caught off guard before. It was strange, but also a relief to know that someone as steady as Harry wasn't so unflappable all the time.

Rubbing a hand over his mouth, he said, "I think everyone has heard of him. Any other famous brothers I should know about?"

"I don't know how you quantify fame, but my other brother is in the NHL. He plays for a team on the east coast."

Andrew was the youngest of your family. Despite that, he still considered himself your older brother, which had always been annoying growing up, especially when you were taller than him for a few years. He was rather sweet for someone so aggressive on the ice. He spent a lot of time with his mom, but was still close to you, Evan, and Hayden. It was hard not to be when you all shared the same deadbeat dad.

Outside of Evan, you probably talked to Andrew the most. You were the closest in age and grew up going to school together, and while his main focus was hockey, whenever he was in town, he'd go with you to concerts to see whatever indie band you were into or treat you to tickets to a show at the arena he played for.

"You have a third, right?" Harry asked, and you weren't even surprised that he remembered even though you were sure you'd only mentioned it once or twice.

"Evan. He's a lawyer in New York, but he lives in Connecticut with his wife and daughter," you said.

Now would be the perfect opportunity to invite Harry to Thanksgiving. You were looping back around on the trail, heading back to the park entrance where you'd met Harry this morning. Evan would pester you about it until you did, or worse, get Hayden and Andrew involved. You just had to throw it out there, be as casual as possible. Easy. You were all about being casual.

"So, um, he—Evan—he, um, said if I wanted I could invite a friend to Thanksgiving. If I wanted to."

"Oh yeah?" You weren't looking at him, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

Swallowing thickly as you willed your cheeks not to flush, you continued to look at Buddy as you spoke. "You probably already have plans, but I just thought I would ask if you wanted to come. Laura, Evan's wife, is a great cook, and it's usually pretty low-key until football gets turned on. But no offensive aunts or uncles or anything like that. Just us."

That was definitely too many words, but the amused look in Harry's eyes didn't feel antagonizing. "I would love to, but um, I already promised my mum I would go home that week."

"Oh." You didn't mean to sound disappointed. It was a good thing that Harry was going home to see his mother. And him meeting your brothers for the first time all at once probably would've scared him out of talking to you in the studio, so really it was for the best. It was for the best. "That's okay. You must be excited to go home. How long has it been?"

"London? Not too long, but I'm headed back to Manchester, and my mum has not been shy in letting me know that it's been too long since..."

You listened to Harry the rest of the walk back, trying to fight off the disappointment gnawing inside you that he'd said no. You didn't want that feeling in you. You wanted to be indifferent. It's for the best. You repeated it over and over until you convinced yourself it was true.

*.*

"You had a speech, you're speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches. And I couldn't give a reason, Champagne problems."

You scribbled in your notebook, crossing out words from the original recording and replacing them with better ones. You hadn't planned to go back to this song. After recording it on your phone, you figured it wouldn't see the light of day again. But something kept bringing you back to it. So you worked on it between other projects, playing around with the lyrics and melody in small doses so that the past wouldn't overwhelm you.

Guilt seeped into your bones as you recalled what happened eighteen, almost nineteen, months ago. Sometimes you wished you could forget everything you'd done, but other times you decided being forced to remember was part of your penance for causing so much pain. Gavin was a good man. He was so kind and so smart, he didn't have a cruel bone in his body. And you'd taken his goodness, you'd welcomed all his kindness, and crushed it in your hands.

Wiping away a tear, you shut your notebook definitively. Your session in the studio was far from over, but you were done for the day.

On your way out, you kept your head down, not wanting anyone to see your watery eyes. You could feel the tears building, and you hoped you could at least make it to your car before you turned into a mess. It was so hard sometimes. Some days you felt great. You would write good songs, take Buddy for a walk and teach him a new trick, you would get coffee with Harry and laugh, and everything would be fine. But then there were days where the mere thought of the past sent you careening off course, leaving you with nothing but the intrusive thoughts you thought you'd learned how to keep at bay.

Today happened to be one of those days, and you hoped you could escape and wallow in self-pity unnoticed. But before you could even make it to the elevator, you bumped into something solid and warm. Arms wrapped around you to hold you steady before you could spring back, and against your better judgment, you looked up, an apology poised on your lips.

"Y/n, are you okay? What's wrong?"

You should've known that you would be unlucky enough to run into Harry on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Blinking rapidly, you shook your head and stepped out of his grasp, though that didn't make you feel any better. "I'm fine."

"You can talk to me," Harry insisted. His brows furrowed with concern, but he didn't come any closer. There was a bag slung over his shoulder and a hat covering up his hair, with only a few stray curls sticking out beneath it. He looked like he was just going into the studio for a session.

"I'm fine, I promise," you lied, not wanting to be the reason he was late for studio time. "I'm just leaving for the day."

You tried to step around Harry, but his hands fell down on your shoulders. His gaze burned, but you couldn't make yourself look him in the eye. You knew the moment you saw the sympathy swimming in them you'd burst into tears.

"Please let me go," you said, but it came out as more of a squeak, your voice breaking on the last word.

To your surprise, Harry did, and even though that was what you'd asked for, what you wanted, you somehow felt worse. Shuffling around him, you mumbled a quick goodbye and bypassed the elevator, not wanting to wait awkwardly for it to come up while he was still in the hall. It wasn't until you finally got in your car that you let everything out, all the guilt and loneliness and self-loathing that you kept bottled up regularly.

So often you were able to pretend the past didn't exist. But then there were days where you were almost slapped in the face by the consequences of your actions. Negative thoughts followed you all the way home and into your bed. Not even hiding under the covers kept you from feeling everything all at once. Your mind spun as you thought of Gavin, of his elated grin crumpling into a look of betrayal as you told him you were ending it.

You remembered every detail from that night. The brand of Champagne Gavin bought for the would-be occasion, the woodsy cologne he wore, the looks on his friends' and family's faces as you hurried down the stairs to leave the party, unable to bear their shame and disapproval, or the heart you'd broken on the landing in his family's mansion.

You didn't know he was going to propose until mere moments before it happened. You had only been seeing Gavin for a few months, and things were good. He made you happy, and you liked having someone to go through life with. He liked to shower you with expensive gifts, for no other reason than to show you he cared and because he could. You didn't have the same kind of wealth he or his family did, not even with the substantial amount of money you made as a successful songwriter. But you'd write him poems and leave them places you knew he'd find them and looped your arm through his at company parties. Things were good.

Every year, Gavin's family hosted a Christmas party, and last year was the first time you'd been invited. You hadn't wanted to go, mostly because in the two weeks leading up to the party, you realized you weren't in the same place Gavin was emotionally, and you weren't sure you ever would be. But Gavin insisted, promising it would be fun and he wouldn't abandon you to his family, who had been nothing but cold since the moment he'd introduced them to you. So you went, sipping on Champagne in a glass made of crystal and wondering if the guilty pit at the bottom of your stomach would ever stop growing.

It was a couple hours into the party when you'd stumbled on a conversation between Gavin's mother and sister, one that made your blood run cold with dread.

"Did Gav really ask you for your ring?" his sister asked.

His mother nodded gravely. "He wants to do it tonight."

"What? That's ridiculous! They've barely been together a year!"

"I'm sure she would make a lovely bride, she's beautiful, I'll give her that," his mother conceded, but you could hear the disdain in her voice loud and clear. "It's just a shame that she's—"

"Fucked in the head?"

"Larissa! Language!"

"What? She is! She's a total basket case, and everyone can see it but him. She'll never make him happy. How could she? Putting a ring on it doesn't change a thing. Gavin would have a psych patient, not a wife. He deserves better."

The rest of the night was a blur, but you knew you couldn't wait. You didn't want to break up with Gavin on the night of his family's Christmas party, but if he was going to propose, you couldn't let him. The hurt would be so much worse if you had to slide the ring off your finger a week or two after the proposal.

Gavin called you for weeks afterward, begging you to help him understand. His family did too, and his friends, people you considered friends as well, but it was clear once there was a line drawn in the sand where everyone stood, and they didn't have any trouble letting you know how horrible you were for doing what you did. Sometimes when you let yourself get angry, you wondered why Gavin's mother and sister, or any of them really, were so aggressive about your break up. They'd never wanted you to be with him in the first place, and even though they'd gotten their wish, they still called you a heartless monster.

But above all that, Gavin's messages made the deepest cut. He sounded so devastated in each voicemail. And at first, all he wanted was to talk, to somehow work it all out as if it was one big misunderstanding. I know my family can be a lot, but I love you so much, he'd said in a text. We can go to Italy like we'd planned. Elope. Buy a little cottage and just start a new life somewhere else. Please, Y/n. Talk to me. I love you.

Messages like those were the toughest pills to swallow. You knew Gavin loved you, you never doubted that for a moment. The problem was you didn't feel the same. You didn't know why. You cared for Gavin a lot, and in the beginning, you had all those giddy, initial relationship feelings, but they never developed beyond that. And when you noticed Gavin's feelings growing more and more each day while yours didn't, you started to panic.

But it was when those messages turned angry, hateful even, that hurt the most. It was what you deserved after what you'd done, but to know that you'd turned one of the gentlest souls you knew into a spiteful one killed you almost as much as stopping him from getting down on one knee had.

In the midst of all your crying and hyperventilating, your phone buzzed. Wiping your eyes and nose, you lifted your phone to your face, squinting at the bright light.

Harry S: I know you probably want space, but I'm here for you xx

You shouldn't be, was your first thought, but all you texted back was, Just a bad day that's all.

Harry's response was almost immediate, as if he was waiting around for your reply.

Harry S: Well, if you ever need a friend, you know where to find me :))

You sighed, feeling another wave of tears overwhelm you. The pressure of friendship weighed heavily on your chest. All you could offer was disappointment, and you couldn't stomach the thought of letting someone like Harry down. He was too good a person to be your friend. All you could offer him was disappointment and pain. You were toxic, and better off left alone.

You: We're not friends. I don't want to be your friend so just leave me alone.

*.*

Weeks went by and you were positively miserable. Thanksgiving came and went, and even your brothers could sense not to pry about your sour mood. Evan tried to get you alone, but you didn't want to talk. You didn't want to explain how you'd fucked things up so royally. Again. You didn't want his sympathy, or Hayden's promise to fight anyone who hurt you, or Andrew's cheesy jokes to lift your spirits. What you wanted had been all the way in England and had been giving you the cold shoulder. Just like you'd asked.

Harry stopped saying hi to you at the studio, which hurt more than you thought it would. In the grand scheme of things, you hadn't known him very long, but seeing him in the hallway and watching him purposely avoid you felt awful. You only had yourself to blame, but you thought it was better to let him down early on than further down the line. You couldn't have another Gavin situation on your hands.

But this felt entirely different. Even though you'd only spoken to Harry for a month, his absence from your life was more poignant than you expected it to be. When you ended things with Gavin, you felt guilty for hurting him, but ultimately, there was a sense of relief that you weren't leading him on, that crushing weight of his family's disapproval on your chest lifted. Breaking up with Gavin was hard, but it was the right thing to do for you, there was no doubt in your mind about that.

But this thing with Harry...you'd pushed him away when you were feeling vulnerable. A preemptive measure for the both of you, but there was no relief, no justifiable sense of rightness in your gut in the days following.

Part of you wanted to reach out to him and apologize, but you worried he hated you now and didn't know how to bridge the gap you created between the two of you.

Opportunity struck when you overheard a conversation between Harry and...Mitch. you were pretty sure that was Mitch from that night at Harry's house. It was about a week after you came back from your brother's house, and all three of them were constantly calling or texting despite their busy schedules. You wouldn't have put it past any of them to have set up times to routinely check in on you. It warmed your heart some, but nothing would feel right until you fixed things with Harry. Pushing him away had been a mistake, you saw that now. You'd done it in a moment when you were at your lowest, and that wasn't fair to either of you.

"I'm sorry, mate," Harry said to Mitch. "I didn't even think to ask if you were allergic before adopting a cat. I feel like an idiot now."

So he went ahead with his plan to get a pet, then. The thought made you smile, but you held it in. You were pressed into the corner of the elevator up to the studio. Harry was definitely aware of your presence, but he hadn't acknowledged you. Mitch gave you an awkward wave, but that was somehow worse.

"No worries, man," Mitch said now, stepping out of the elevator with Harry. He was in a white t-shirt and a light brown cardigan today, his curly brown hair looking beautifully windswept. You refused to think about the current state of your hair, which was hiding beneath a blue baseball cap. "I'll just have to—"

You never found out what Mitch would have to do because they rounded a corner of the hallway, leaving you alone outside the elevator. Quickly scurrying into your usual studio, you sat down at the grand piano, letting the smooth keys cool your sweaty palms. You felt breathless, but it wasn't the usual anxiety-ridden breathlessness you were used to. This felt different, your heart speeding up at the thought of Harry's broad shoulders beneath his sweater.

"Pull yourself together, Y/n," you told yourself.

The damage was done—once again, at your hands, but you couldn't help that right this second. Right now you had work to do.

The next day, you did something you didn't normally do—venture outside of your studio. Since working in the building, you'd never thought to explore the other rooms, to introduce yourself or make friends the way Harry had with you. As you walked down the long hallway of closed and half-open doors, you wondered who was behind them, what kind of projects were being worked on right now.

Most importantly, you wanted to know which door Harry sat behind.

After a day of writing, of trying to lean into more positive feelings, the small hope you had for a brighter future. You left the studio feeling lighter after another introspective session. There'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you, both of these things can be true, you'd written, forming your thoughts around a melody that was both somber and hopeful. That moment when you'd pushed Harry away was the lowest you'd felt in a while, but you didn't want to feel that way anymore. All Harry had been asking for was friendship. You could do friendship, in fact, you craved it.

So now you were trying to make things right with Harry, or at least apologize for your rude text. He'd only ever been incredibly kind to you, and you'd treated him like garbage.

You came across a door that was partially open, laughter filtering out and reaching you in the hallway. Harry's voice was mixed among them, and hearing him laugh filled you with butterflies. Going to his studio suddenly felt like a mistake. You didn't want to bring down his mood, especially if it would affect his writing for the day.

But you finally worked up the courage to knock on the open door. You'd already made it this far. The knock immediately sobered up everyone inside the studio, and you waited outside with your gift bag clutched in your hands. One of Harry's friends appeared, eyes widening when he saw you there.

"Y/n," he said. "It's good to see you."

You couldn't tell if he was pleased to see you or not, and nerves slowly began to creep in.

"I—I won't take up too much of your time, I know y'all are probably busy," you said. "I just, um, could you give this to Harry, please?"

You shoved the bag in the man's direction, forcing him to take it. "You can come in. He's just inside—"

"No, it's okay. I should probably get back to it. So, uh, see you."

You turned and fled, heat flooding your cheeks. Honestly, you were surprised you made it that far. You figured your courage would fizzle out before knocking on the studio door.

Settling back in your studio, you pulled out your journal and phone out of your bag, and opened up to a fresh page to work on a new song. On the way into work this morning, your agent pitched you an opportunity to write for an up-and-coming artist. "Something light, Y/n," she'd said, knowing you'd been writing mostly sad, break-up songs recently. "If it doesn't work out, then it doesn't work out, but at least try. You've always liked to challenge yourself."

So you were putting away the Champagne problems for now and channeling your happiest thoughts. You even brought your computer to stream romantic comedies while you worked for some additional inspiration.

You were halfway through When Harry met Sally when that inspiration finally struck. Lighter, happier words finally filled your journal, a rare, but not completely uncommon occurrence. You'd written love songs in the past, both before and while you were with Gavin. But surprisingly, Gavin wasn't who came to mind, nor was it the characters in the movie on your computer.

You thought of Harry's smile, his flushed cheeks after he'd had a couple drinks, his green eyes that seemed to sparkle when he laughed. Did you have a crush on him? You weren't entirely sure, maybe you just admired his goodness. And, okay fine, his unfair amount of good looks too. But you tried not to focus too long on who exactly inspired you, just on making sure the words kept flowing onto the page.

Perhaps you should've expected Harry to stop by, but you hadn't. His voice startled you, your eyes having been glued to the screen of your computer as the final scene of Roman Holiday played out in front of you. It had always been one of your favorites, and you decided that a brain break was needed as the final third of the film rolled around.

"What's this?"

No matter how many times you'd seen it, the ending never failed to bring tears to your eyes. Seeing the glisten of tears in Gregory Peck's eyes as he stared longingly at Audrey Hepburn's, knowing they loved each other but could never be together was heartbreaking. It had been the most tragic thing you'd ever experienced when you first watched it as a girl, and it hadn't even happened to you.

It was those tears now that you wiped away, a warmth creeping up your cheeks because this was the second time Harry had caught you crying. How embarrassing.

Looking up, you saw the gift bag in one hand, the other in his pocket as he stared at you blankly. No warmth or his usual smile, but he wasn't glaring at you, either. He just looked indifferent, and that didn't sit well with you at all.

"I...I overheard you and Mitch talking about your cat and his allergies, and I'd heard of this stuff that you can use on your pets to help people who are allergic to animals."

You'd gone out and bought it after leaving the studio the day you'd overheard the conversation between Mitch and Harry. It was your version of an olive branch, a way to express your guilt after taking Harry's friendship and throwing it in his face. You were his friend, and you wanted him to know it.

It probably seemed silly to hide behind a gift instead of saying something, considering your profession. But confrontation was almost as terrifying as love was, it was part of the reason why you only wrote songs and didn't perform them.

Harry scoffed, and it looked like he couldn't decide between laughing or rolling his eyes. "No, I know what this is, I'm asking why you gave it to me. Or not me, to my friend and then scurried back over here."

"I'm sorry about that, about everything," you said, shutting your laptop and shifting in your chair. "I was...I haven't been in the best place for some time now. It's not an excuse for how I treated you that day. You caught me in a bad moment and I lashed out."

"Thank you for apologizing," he said, his voice cool and even. You desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. What he saw when he looked at you. "Do you want to grab coffee? Maybe we can talk?"

The thought of being open and honest in the way that he was suggesting was daunting, but Harry deserved your honesty. "Sure. Let me just pack up my things."

Harry waited for you by the door as you packed your bag, jotting a couple notes down in your journal before putting it away. Your hands shook a little as you approached him, excitement swelling in your belly despite the anxiety you felt at the prospect of having to talk about things you preferred to leave in the recesses of your mind. But it felt good to see Harry again, to walk beside him and head to your favorite coffee house.

Neither of you said anything on the short walk over, and even after you placed your orders, you remained quiet. When your name was called out alongside Harry's to grab your drinks, you knew it was time to find a table, but you stayed rooted to your spot in front of the counter.

It was Larissa. Gavin's sister. She was standing next to the other end of the counter where baristas called out and dropped off orders. There was a moment when she didn't see you, and you thought you could make a break for it, even if that meant leaving Harry high and dry. But even if you wanted to, you were frozen in place, and when Larissa's gaze finally landed on you, you felt her glare even from a short distance.

"Y/n?" Harry asked, both drinks in his hands. "What's—"

"Y/n! How good to see you!"

Larissa's kind smile was anything but. You'd never trusted Gavin's sister. From the moment you met her, you knew to be wary of her, and after everything that happened, you were sure nothing good was going to come out of this interaction.

"H—Hi, Larissa. How are you?" you said, trying your best not to look at Harry, who had a quizzical look on his face.

"Oh, I'm just fabulous. I've just spent the last year healing my brother's broken heart, which you broke like it was nothing," Larissa said. "He's great, by the way. Finally came to his senses and realized what a God-awful mess you were. He realized all of us were better off without you."

Then, before you could even make sense of what was happening, a rush of cold washed over you. At first, you thought it was merely a visceral reaction to the confrontation, but Harry's, "What the fuck?" made you think twice.

Looking down, you realized Larissa had poured her drink on your sweater. Shock left you blinking at Gavin's sister, tears welling in your eyes. With shaking hands, you held the ruined sweater in your hands, then back to Larissa. "Wh—Why—"

"That's for my brother, slut."

"That's enough," Harry said, voice harder and colder than you'd ever heard him before. Even when he was upset with you at the studio, he never sounded this angry. Gently gripping your elbow, he turned you around. You hardly noticed the flashing of cameras aimed in your direction. All you could really process was Larissa's smirk and the iced coffee dripping off you onto the coffee house's floor.

When you were finally outside and a block down the road, Harry pulled you down an alley where you could have a moment of privacy. He pulled his sweater over his head and offered it to you in a bundle. You quietly murmured your thanks and took it from him, slipping it over your head. The plain black sweater was warm and smelled like him—like laundry detergent and expensive cologne. It would've been the kind of thing to flood your senses if shame hadn't currently encompassed every fiber of your being.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," you said when you felt like you could speak without your voice trembling.

"You don't have to apologize for what happened, Y/n," Harry said. He gently rested his hand on your shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I think so."

You couldn't look him in the eye, not while your iced coffee-ridden sweater was now ruining his, not while he kept looking at you with such pity. You could feel it down to your toes, and it made you want to curl up in a ball and never get out of bed. But Harry deserved an explanation. At the very least, he deserved to know who he associated himself with.

"I should explain—"

"You don't have to," Harry insisted.

"I want to," you said, believing the words as you said them. You weren't sure what you would've done if Harry hadn't been with you a few minutes ago. His brows were still furrowed with concern, his thumb rubbing circles into your shoulder. His sweater layered over yours created a pretty thick barrier, but you could feel his touch as if he was caressing your skin. "We can, um, we can go back to my place."

Thankfully, Harry didn't protest, just nodded quietly. The walk back to the studio was completely silent, leaving you alone with your thoughts until it was time to part ways. He got in his car and followed you home, silently following you up the steps to your apartment, a comfortable little one-bedroom twenty minutes from the studio.

Buddy was at the door when you unlocked it, tail wagging and tongue lolling to the side of his mouth happily. He greeted you first, then Harry, who he tried with all his might to knock over by getting up on his hind legs and resting on your guest. "Buddy! Down!" you hissed, frantically holding onto your dog's collar. Harry laughed and waived you off, surprising you by lifting Buddy up into his arms. Both boys were perfectly content, and the image of your friend holding your dog in your apartment was enough to lift your spirits the tiniest bit. A small smile crept onto your face, and Harry's grin widened when he saw it.

"Nice place," Harry commented, spinning around in a slow circle as he looked around.

"Thanks." Your apartment was small, but it was in a nice neighborhood and close to the beach. You made just enough in royalties to be comfortable in a little one bedroom. "Definitely different from my place in Nashville."

Harry nodded mildly before setting Buddy back down on the floor, admiring the colorful furniture that took up the space in your living room. Shivering a little, you looked down at yourself, reminded of your coffee-soaked clothes.

"There are treats in the pantry," you said, setting your things down on the kitchen counter and nodding to the pantry in question. "I'm just going to get changed so I can wash your sweater."

Harry nodded, but he seemed content to play with Buddy and look around your apartment, and your dog seemed perfectly happy to never walk on four legs ever again.

You tried to make quick work of changing, not wanting to keep Harry waiting too long. But you gave yourself a minute or two to calm down and process everything that had happened in the last hour. Even though it was horribly embarrassing, you were glad Harry had been there. He'd been a calming presence throughout, and you could only hope that would continue as you explained why you'd pushed him away.

*.*

"I...I didn't want to hurt you," you said, looking down at where your hands were knotted in your lap. "I just...I don't have a very good track record with relationships. Of any kind. I didn't want you to be one of the people I ruined."

Harry had been surprisingly quiet while you explained everything. And by everything, you meant everything. From Gavin to the Christmas party and what you'd heard to the would-be proposal. You told him about that song you'd written a couple weeks ago and how it brought all that emotion to the forefront of your memory and that it led you to push Harry away. He hadn't said much, asking you a few questions here and there; but for the most part, he let you speak uninterrupted, and you were surprised at how you continued to fill the silence, not once feeling uncomfortable. Perhaps a little ashamed after explaining how badly you'd hurt Gavin, but you never felt discomfort telling Harry any of it.

"Y/n, I—" Harry began to say before pausing. Looking up at him, you saw his brows furrowed, a look of consternation on his face. You waited for the blow, the one that eventually led him to leave you friendless once and for all. "I don't think you're a bad person for breaking up with him. I can't imagine that kind of hurt, sure, but if you didn't love him, you did the right thing. Do you—Do you seriously believe you're fucked in the head? Or that you ruin people?"

He was referencing the song you'd written, and you flushed bright red at the idea of him hearing more of the song than you would've liked. Shrugging, you gave him the truth. It didn't seem fit to lie when you'd bared your soul to him. "I don't know."

You could tell that answer didn't sit right with Harry. His frown deepened, and you desperately wanted to see him smile again. "Y/n, everyone makes mistakes in relationships, and even then I don't think you did anything wrong in that moment. Was it unfortunate timing? Maybe, but I don't think you should punish yourself for it anymore. In fact, I think what you did was brave."

"What?"

Smiling, Harry took your hand in his. It was warm, and his long fingers curled around your hand with ease. On any other day, you would've pulled back, but after sharing so much with him, this felt good. It felt right.

"I said what you did was brave," he said again. "You didn't love him, but you could've accepted the proposal and stayed with him. And then what? Leave him at the altar? Stay in a loveless marriage? It was hard, but you did the right thing for you and Gavin. I'm sure even he would come to understand that one day. Have you tried talking to him?"

You shook your head. "He hates me now."

"I don't think anyone could really hate you, Y/n," Harry said quietly, a blush crawling up his cheeks as if he hadn't meant to say that out loud. "I know you might disagree, but I think you might feel a lot better about all of this if you talked to him."

"His family—"

"Fuck his family. Gavin is a grown man who can think for himself," Harry said. "If he can't separate their wrong opinions from his own thoughts, then he's an idiot who never deserved you anyway."

You laughed a little at the first half of what he said. It felt nice to know that someone was on your side. Squeezing Harry's hand, you said, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For listening, for being a good friend when I maybe didn't deserve it. Evan's the only person I talked to about this, and even then I didn't explain everything," you said. Evan had been on your side, but it didn't really count to you. He was your brother. He had to be on your side. "I just don't have the best track record when it comes to hurting people, you know?"

Your eyes had fallen to your hand, which was still curled around his, but to your surprise, Harry's other one lifted your chin to meet his gaze. With wide eyes, you looked at him, heart beating a little wilder in your chest when you saw the look on his face. His expression was wide open, earnest and endearing, and filled with...something you weren't ready to see yet. But it filled you with warmth, and for the first time in a long time, you really believed that you didn't have to be alone.

"I don't think you'll hurt me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

His hand pushed a strand of your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. The movement made your breath hitch, lips parting as you tried to decide what Harry was going to do next, what you wanted him to do next. He seemed like he was waiting for something too, and his gaze was finally too much, like he could see your soul and was currently shuffling through every little thing you longed for and were afraid of. It was heavy with emotion, and you weren't ready for it.

"You should probably get going soon," you said, rising, with great difficulty, to your feet and putting some distance between yourself and Harry. A frown on Harry's face appeared, and you quickly explained yourself. "Your cat. You probably should head home and feed her."

Before you and Harry sat down to talk about...everything, he briefly mentioned his new kitten, Sweet Pea. "It was the name she already had when I adopted her, and it didn't feel right to change it, though sometimes she's not so sweet." She was a fluffy Ragdoll cat that was apparently quite the diva, and Harry proudly showed off picture after picture, claiming he was already in love with his new furry companion.

Now though, Harry's eyes widened as if he hadn't even thought about his new kitten since being here. "Right. Good call. I'll see you tomorrow?"

You nodded as you watched him gather his things. "I'll return the sweater tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

You walked Harry to the door to see him out. He crossed the threshold but paused before heading down to his car. You couldn't read the look that crossed his face, but his lingering gave you one last opportunity to take him all in. The muscles in his arms bulged beneath the white t-shirt he wore, and his hair had grown a tad longer since you'd spoken to him last, now curling around the nape of his neck and touching the collar of his shirt. Harry was taller than you, but not by much, though standing this close, it felt like he was a whole foot taller as you craned your neck to look at him.

Then, before you could ask if he'd forgotten something, he leaned forward. It took you a moment to realize what he'd done, but the lingering traces of heat on your forehead helped. He'd kissed you. On the forehead.

"See you tomorrow!"

Harry was gone in a flash, leaving you standing at the front door of your apartment with an open mouth as you tried to decide what his forehead kiss meant. To you, it felt sisterly, and you couldn't help the disappointment that swirled in your gut. You quickly pushed that feeling away, closing the door on whatever happened just then.

*.*

For the next few weeks, everything felt like it was back to normal. Better than normal, even. Despite the awkwardness you felt at having to see Harry after the odd forehead kiss, Harry acted like it never happened, which you were thankful for. You wouldn't have known what to say if he'd brought it up. Or tried to do it again.

But it became clear, despite the teeny tiny budding feelings you might have had for him, that he merely saw you as a friend. After your long talk with him at your apartment, Harry began showing you some of the work he'd been doing in his own studio down the hall from yours. It appeared he was getting over a break up too, though you never would've guessed by how cheerful he was most days. He still was, even as he explained a little about his most recent relationship, and you realized that while you hid your true emotions behind a wall, he might've been hiding behind his happy disposition. It made you want to dig deeper, to see what lay beneath all that "fineness."

As you spent more time with Harry, you also began hanging out with his friends. The first time you returned to his house for another game night, everyone seemed genuinely happy to see you, namely Sylvia. "I'm so glad you're spending more time with H," she'd said that night. "I love him to death but he's a clingy motherfucker when he's lonely."

That thought made you laugh. You recalled a conversation you'd had with Harry a while back when he'd said his friends were "disgustingly in love." He seemed like the kind of guy who loved love, but you also didn't want Sylvia, or any of his friends, to get the wrong idea.

"Oh I don't—I mean we're not—I don't think he sees me that way."

That wasn't how you wanted to explain yourself, seeing as you weren't even sure if you saw him that way. But Sylvia must have seen your flushed cheeks and understood your floundering because she smiled at you warmly.

"I think this calls for a girl's day. What do you think?"

"Oh. Um..." You didn't expect any of Harry's friends to want to hang out with you one on one, but you'd been leaning into trying new things lately. And girl's day? You grew up with three brothers, the last time you had anything resembling that was a tea party Hayden and Evan threw for you when you were six. "Sure. I could meet you for lunch this week if you'd like."

"Lunch sounds perfect."

A couple days passed until you had Buddy on his leash, walking down to the cafe you and Sylvia agreed on. You were a little nervous, but mostly excited. It had been a while since you'd hung out casually with a friend—you weren't counting Harry—and while you'd grown accustomed to the loneliness, you couldn't help but acknowledge that it felt nice to talk to someone other than your dog.

"Okay," Sylvia said once the waiter walked away with your orders. She'd held off asking about Harry, but now the time had come. "Hit me. What did Harold do?"

"Nothing," you said, perhaps a little too quickly. When Sylvia pinned you with a stare, you looked down at your glass of water. "He just...He gave me a kiss? On the forehead? And I don't know, it just read very...brotherly."

Sylvia sighed, which at the very least vindicated your feelings. It wasn't like you wanted anything more, but the whole thing left you feeling confused. A cheek kiss would've been easier to navigate, but the forehead? It left Y/n thinking about Harry more than she should've.

"Okay, I can see where you might be confused by that, but as someone with a brother, I can confidently say they don't do shit like that."

You weren't sure what you expected her to say, or what you even wanted her to say, but it wasn't that. Sylvia knew Harry fairly well, so it was safe to say that she was telling the truth, you just weren't ready to accept what she was implying.

"I do too, and I know the last thing I would expect from any of my brothers is a kiss on the forehead, but I don't know," you said, trying to remain as neutral as possible knowing Sylvia could report back to Harry. This whole thing was starting to feel very grade school-esque.

"Just know that Harry's a pretty open guy, but he's been burned in the past so he might be a little closed off or not be as inclined to make the first move," Sylvia said, though in some ways it sounded like a warning. "He's the greatest guy you'll ever meet, and whatever you decide, just be gentle, okay?"

It was hard to imagine someone as positive and happy as Harry having a dark past, but it sounded like there was a lot more than what met the eye as far as he was concerned. It was honestly a little comforting to know that he wasn't perfect. You were such a mess sometimes it seemed unfair that people wandered through life seemingly unscathed. You knew that was rarely ever the case, but sometimes it was hard to remember when guys like Harry walked around embracing life and had smiles for every occasion.

"I will," you promised, and you meant it. You were pretty sure nothing was going to happen between you and Harry, but you could appreciate Sylvia looking out for her friend. As nice as she had been to you so far, she was Harry's friend first. Her words made you wonder if you would ever have friends so fiercely loyal to you.

After that lunch with Sylvia, the weeks began to pass by in a blur. There were days when you saw Harry frequently, and then you wouldn't see him at all. He would show up at your studio to get coffee—at a new coffee shop, of course—you stopped by his to bring him and his friends baked goods, and sometimes you would end the night at one another's houses, a bottle of wine and takeout split between the two of you. You weren't dating, at least you wouldn't categorize whatever it was that you were doing as dating, but it felt nice to have someone in your life consistently again, and you liked that Harry was that person even more.

That didn't mean you couldn't read the signs. Sometimes Harry's gaze would linger when he thought you didn't notice, or he would sit a lot closer than was maybe necessary when you hung out with his friends. Sometimes his hand would brush yours as you watched a movie as if he wanted to hold it, and yours would brush back encourgingly, and then suddenly you were holding hands. To anyone else, it might have appeared confusing—in fact, Sylvia had vocalized her confusion over the non-relationship you and Harry were engaging in—but for you, not acknowledging what was happening and not putting any labels or definitions on this thing happening between the two of you was somehow easier to swallow. And since Harry seemed to be following your lead, he didn't say anything to object.

It was around Christmastime that things began to change. You'd spent your morning writing a song for an artist's Christmas album, a feat you'd managed to avoid in the past. But since you'd worked with the artist before and liked the vision she had for this album, you decided to at least try to write a holiday song. It wasn't necessarily that you disliked Christmas or the holidays, you were just indifferent to the season in question, and after everything that transpired two years ago now, you just never felt like celebrating much.

Harry Styles, however, was a huge fan of Christmas. his studio was decked out with lights and garlands, he got him and Sweet Pea matching sweaters, which you weren't entirely sure if he knitted or not, and he'd been bugging you since Thanksgiving to come over to decorate cookies. He'd finally worn you down and you were going over later tonight, but not before putting in a couple hours at the studio, which turned into sitting in on one of Harry's sessions.

It didn't happen often, but you did like seeing the team approach to writing songs as opposed to your usual solitary method. For the most part, you watched as Harry bounced ideas off his friends, observing as they focused on one chord progression or verse until something else stole their attention away. It was a bit chaotic, but everyone in the room seemed to be having fun.

It was in the middle of a heated debate between another fun, upbeat song or beginning to work on a ballad when the melody came to you. It was just piano chords, and had you been in your own studio, you would've immediately sat down to play it and see where it went. But this wasn't your studio, and it wasn't your session, and while you knew no one would've minded hearing your input, you felt nervous all of a sudden, self-conscious.

So instead, you pulled some blank sheet music out and began to scribble, writing as quickly as possible before the melody escaped you. The melody had taken up so much space in your head that everything else faded away. You envisioned arrangements, themes, a line or two sprouting as you wrote down the next note. Something sad and somber, the exact opposite of what Harry had been pushing for since he entered the studio.

"What am I now?" you wrote on the back of the sheet music. You didn't know how it would fit, but it would. You could tinker with the words later, so long as all your thoughts were written down somewhere, you would find a way to make it happen.

"What are you working on over there?"

Harry was suddenly at your side, and when he peeked over your shoulder, you didn't try to hide your frenzied notes. You handed them over, unsure if he even read sheet music. "It was just a thought I had. I can play it for you if you'd like?"

"Please," Harry said, gesturing to the piano in the corner of the room. It was then that you realized that everyone else had left the room at some point or another. At your questioning glance, Harry explained. "Ten minute break, but it felt like you were onto something...And I figured you'd be more willing to share if it wasn't in front of a group."

"Thank you," you said, those pesky butterflies swirling around in your stomach. They seemed to appear any time Harry so much as smiled at you. "It's just a melody, really, but maybe you can use it for something.

You sat down at the piano, eyes widening when Harry sat down beside you. Shaking it off, you focused on the piano, the keys cool and smooth to the touch, a familiar feeling that felt nice among such a different work setting. You explained your thought process to Harry a little bit, telling him the direction you hoped the song would go in and possible arrangements for it and whatnot. Harry, who apparently knew you better than you thought he did, nudged you with his elbow and encouraged you to play, knowing that you were stalling.

It wasn't that you were unsure of yourself or your talent. You knew you were good at what you did. You'd collaborated on multiple albums and worked with many well-known artists and bands, or artists who were just breaking out onto the scene and did so with the help of your songwriting. The difference here was that you normally didn't play an idea for anyone until it was fully realized. You typically sent over demos and typed up lyrics, and Harry would be one of the first to hear something that you'd only just come up with. Besides Buddy, but he didn't really count.

Taking a deep breath, you began to play, letting the chords you'd only just come up with pull your focus. After having played through it a couple times, you looked over at Harry, who had a faraway look in his eyes, an idea of his own forming in his head, perhaps.

"It's fairly simple, but I think that's what's rather beautiful about it," you said while still playing. "Sometimes you don't need much to get a response from someone, and I think a melody like this really allows an artist to shine, you know? Whether that's through their lyrics, or their vocal range, or both. And obviously it can be changed to a different key, this is just the one I wrote down, but...yeah, that's what I've got."

You finally stopped playing to hear Harry's opinion, though you wished you hadn't. Now your hands didn't really know what to do, and it took a lot of effort to keep them knotted together in your lap. Harry still looked pensive, as if he hadn't even heard your rambling, though now you were even more curious to know what he thought.

"Harry?"

Blinking, Harry turned toward you, his knee bumping against yours on the piano bench. His eyes cleared up as he remembered he wasn't alone in the studio. "Hm? Sorry, just thinking."

Offering him your pen and a fresh page in your journal, you said, "Did you maybe want to write it down?"

After that, you and Harry wrote hundreds of songs together. At least it felt like a hundred songs. Whether it was in the studio, or at each other's homes—mainly his because he had a home studio and a guest room for when sessions went too long—the two of you were almost always writing together. It wasn't always for his album, either. Sometimes Harry would help you with projects you were working on for other artists, or you would just write songs for the sake of writing them.

And it just worked. It felt like you and Harry just clicked. He was able to vocalize what you were trying to say to his producer, and you knew what he was thinking before he said it or the sound he was going for based off a couple descriptors. You'd never known someone so intimately before, or understood them so completely, Not even Gavin.

Harry was witty and smart and kind and genuine. He felt things deeply, and kept a lot of his darkest secrets and deepest insecurities incredibly close to his chest. You realized at some point that he was even more guarded than you in some ways. As you wrote together more and more, you obviously realized that there was more than met the eye when it came to your friend, but outside of songwriting, he wouldn't divulge much. He'd been through a breakup recently, that much you could tell, and while you wanted to know more, you respected his privacy and the desire to leave the past exactly where it was. Unless it came to the music, of course.

"So...you're what? Friends without all the benefits?" Sylvia asked you.

You met with her pretty regularly now for lunch during the week. Harry wasn't typically the topic of conversation, but on this occasion, Sylvia was giving you the third degree.

"We're co-workers. And friends," you added as an afterthought. Saying you were merely co-workers didn't seem right to you anymore, and you knew Harry would be upset if you thought otherwise. "I don't know what other benefits I would need outside of his companionship."

"Bull. Shit." Sylvia pinned you with a stare that made you blush. "Last weekend he had you practically sitting in his lap, and you're trying to tell me nothing's going on?"

"Not really. I don't think either of us are in a place to be in a relationship right now." It was the same line you fed to Andrew last week when you went to see one of his games. He thankfully bought it, or maybe he was just used to you keeping your love life to yourself, but Sylvia wasn't having it.

"What makes you say that?"

You shrugged. "I mean I'm definitely not, and I can just tell he's not there yet either. I mean, obviously, I've learned about his most recent relationship by working with him, but outside of that, he doesn't tell me anything. I don't even know her name."

You weren't offended that Harry didn't want to share about his ex. You wouldn't have told him about Gavin if you hadn't been put in that particular situation. But you understood better than most about that kind of pain. Maybe he wasn't ready. Maybe his feelings were getting all jumbled up between the past and the present. Or maybe he just didn't like you that way. The last theory hurt more than you cared to admit, but you were more scared of another potential relationship going up in flames than finding out the truth, so you decided ignorance really was bliss.

Sylvia nodded, understanding. You realized she must've known his ex, though you didn't ask for details. That was Harry's story to tell, not hers, and you were pretty sure Sylvia would say the same if you did ask. "I guess that's fair. But so, you're just...friends who kiss occasionally?"

You nearly choked on your sip of water. "What? No! Of course not. We don't—We—"

"Let me save you the struggle of coming up with an unconvincing lie," Sylvia said. "I've seen you."

"When?"

"Christmas party," she said, raising one finger as if she was about to list a few occurences.

"That was mistletoe. It was innocent," you said with a dismissive wave of your hand, even though said hand was suddenly clammy.

"New Year's."

"Everyone kisses at the end of the countdown!"

"At game night when he kissed your neck?"

"Why are you paying that close attention to my neck?"

"And," Slyvia said, pointedly ignoring your last remark. "I have it on good authority that Harry kissed you at the studio last week. Don't try to hide it, Y/n."

Sighing, you said, "So what's your point, exactly?"

"My point is that y'all are just pretending you're not in a relationship when you are!" she said, looking at you as if you had two heads. "Look, it's clear you've been through some shit and Harry has too, I won't deny that. But are you really going to put your happiness on the back burner because of it?"

Your cheeks burned at having been caught. It wasn't like you'd planned to kiss Harry any of those times. Each kiss came as a surprise, leaving you more and more breathless than the last and hopeful for another. What Sylvia didn't know was that you and Harry had kissed a lot more than the handful that she'd rattled off. Sometimes when it was late and you were over at his house working, he'd get this look in his eyes that would turn your whole body molten. He'd lean in close, nudge your nose with his, and then his lips were on yours and time suddenly didn't exist.

You liked kissing Harry. A lot. You liked the way his fingers gingerly held your jaw, you liked that kissing him gave you free rein to touch him wherever you wanted—his hair, his arms, beneath his shirt. Sometimes it felt like you couldn't get enough, but it always ended with one of you pulling away under the guise that it was getting late. Your lips would tingle long after, and you'd text Harry late at night when you should've been asleep, or he would call to talk about whatever he was thinking.

To anyone else, it wouldn't make sense, but it made sense to you and Harry. There was no pressure to be more, no urgency to define what you were doing, and that seemed to work for both of you.

"I'm perfectly happy right now," you said, and you were.

It had been a long time since you'd felt this content. Your breakup with Gavin left you feeling guilty and ashamed. And deep down, you knew you already felt more for Harry than you did for your ex, and that made you feel horrible too. Part of you still felt you were being greedy by trying to be this happy, that you should just take what you were given and try not to press your luck.

Sylvia took you by surprise by taking your hand. Her fingers were warm and reassuring, just as her eyes were when you finally met her gaze. It was safe to say now that she was your friend. She'd come over to your house multiple times for wine and movie nights, you went out to bars together, you'd met her partner, who was the absolute sweetest person on the planet. You valued Sylvia's friendship, and you valued her as a person. You didn't want to lose her if things with Harry progressed and fizzled out.

"It's okay to want more, Y/n," she said gently.

It was like she saw through all the bullshit and realized what you were really scared of. Harry was the only person who knew everything regarding your past relationship, but you told Sylvia bits and pieces. When you'd told her that you broke up with Gavin the night he wanted to propose, she didn't judge you, or ask why you'd throw away a perfectly good relationship. She was empathetic, and said she was sorry you had to go through that. It felt good to confide in someone who was willing to hear your side of the story, to have them realize if you could've loved Gavin the way he loved you, you would've.

"Maybe," you said. "But like I said, I'm not the only one who has shit to work through."

Sylvia nodded, letting the subject drop. But the words she'd said, It's okay to want more, needled at your brain the rest of the day.

*.*

"You should come with me."

You had been watching Sweet Pea doze contentedly on top of Buddy, who was curled in a ball on his dog bed. The two of them were an unlikely pair, but they'd gotten along great the first time they were introduced, and now you found it adorable any time they napped together.

Harry's voice was low and scratchy in your ear, as if he wasn't too far off from sleep himself. You were huddled together under a blanket on your couch, watching the credits roll on the second movie of the night, but you hadn't paid much attention to anything since the moment Harry pulled you to his chest and tucked his chin in the crook of your neck, peppering your skin with kisses as his thumbs rubbed circles beneath your shirt.

"What?" you asked, not having really heard him. It seemed impossible, but every day his touch became more and more dizzying.

"To Japan. You should come with me," he said. "It would be like a writing retreat."

Harry had mentioned his impromptu trip to Japan over dinner. He seemed excited about it, of getting out of town for a little while and just being alone with his thoughts. Those were his words, though now he was inviting you along.

"I don't even have a passport," you said, a non-answer, as Harry would call it.

"We'll get you one," he said. "Don't you think it would be fun to explore a new city together? Just the two of us?"

"W—What about Buddy?"

"Buddy can come to," Harry said, like it was all just so easy.

You thought back to your conversation with Sylvia a week ago. It's okay to want more, she'd said. At the time, you were content with this thing you and Harry were doing. It was simple and easy and pressure-free. A couple weeks later her words still nagged you. You hadn't mentioned wanting more to Harry, but this was different. This was...big. Appearing nonchalant didn't make it so.

"What are we?" you found yourself asking, hating how cliche the question was, even if you did need the answer all of a sudden.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, but you knew he was too smart to not understand.

Still, you sat up and faced him, forcing him to sit on the other side of the couch to have a proper conversation. "I meant exactly what I said, H. What—What are we doing here exactly?"

Harry's face flushed, the muscles in his arm flexing as he rubbed his neck. "I...I don't know. I thought we were okay with not really defining it."

Not defining it, or not talking about it? you thought, even though that wasn't really fair. You were just as content not to ask as he was until now. Or a few weeks ago, you couldn't exactly tell when you began to want more, or when wanting more stopped scaring you.

"I know, but now you're asking me to drop everything and fly to Japan for...for how long exactly?"

Harry shrugged, and your jaw ticked. "A couple months?"

"A couple months," you repeated, trying to align your thoughts. All you could hear though was, It's okay to want more. Taking a deep breath, you said, "I think...I think if I'm going to follow someone across the world for a couple months, I would like a definition about what it is we're doing."

"It's a writing retreat, Y/n. We would be working on songs. Just like we've always done."

You weren't sure when you became the brave one. Perhaps it was your conversation with Sylvia bolstering your confidence, or maybe it was Harry's reluctance to acknowledge the situation at hand, you weren't sure, but his reply wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.

"I'd have to find my own hotel," you said. "Or an apartment to rent I guess."

"You'd stay with me obviously," Harry said, and you had to resist the urge to take him by the shoulders and shake him until he started seeing your perspective.

"Co-workers don't live together, H."

"But we're not just co-workers, Y/n. We're—"

Your brows raised, encouraging him to finish, but he ended up shaking his head. Running a tired hand over his face, he said, "I understand what you mean, but I can't...I can't give that to you right now."

You nodded, then stood up. "And I can't go to Japan without it."

It hurt, but at least he was being upfront about how he felt. It wasn't really fair of you to ask for more when both of you had been content to keep things simple. But somewhere down the line, you realized you liked Harry. A lot. You were okay with leaving your history with Gavin in the past, and you wanted to look to the future now. You'd thought that the future might include a relationship with Harry, but he wasn't ready, and you weren't sure if you wanted to wait. So much of the last two years had been waiting, hiding. Now you needed more. You craved it.

You felt like you were in some kind of alternate universe. One where Harry was scared and unsure of himself and unable to admit to what he wanted. You wanted more, and you weren't going to settle for anything less. You wanted to be more than his friend whom he kissed sometimes, you wanted to hear his scratchy voice as he woke up beside you, and you knew he did too, but something was holding him back. You'd spent too much time hiding from life and love to hide with him some more. Part of you wanted to, just because it was Harry, and you cared about him a lot, but a bigger part of you knew what you deserved, and it was okay to acknowledge that.

"I understand," he said, standing up with you.

Both of you were quiet as he gathered his things. You watched his broad shoulders shrug into his coat, the lean frame of his body bend down to put Sweet Pea in her little carrier. You felt the loss of him already, and he hadn't even gone yet, but you could feel the wall going up between the two of you. Both of you were guarded in your own ways, and both of you had been as vulnerable as you could be, but it wasn't enough.

"When are you planning on leaving?" you asked as you walked him to the door.

"Couple weeks," he said. "Just have to get the logistics figured out."

Nodding, you stepped into his offered embrace, letting yourself inhale the scent of his cologne and feel his arms around you for the last time for a while. His nose bumped yours in a move that was so familiar it made your heart squeeze. You weren't sure how long you stood like that, kissing until you couldn't breathe, it was only until Buddy's wet nose nudged the two of you apart that you finally stepped away from him. Harry bent down to scratch your dog's head and let him lick his cheek a few times before straightening back up. He was about to turn and leave when you called his name.

"I don't know what happened," you said, swallowing around the lump in your throat. "If you did something or if she did something to make you so...closed off, and from one heavily guarded person to another, I'm sorry that it happened and that it made you this way. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for in Japan."

Harry grinned, but it wasn't wide enough to show his dimples. Without saying a word, he left, head bent as he walked down the hall, taking a piece of you with him.

Buddy nudged your leg, pulling away from the hall Harry already disappeared down. Your dog's eyes were big and curious and completely unaware of what was wrong, which brought a watery smile to your face. "Come on, bubba. Let's get ready for bed."

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles album #fine line era #fine line album

[serenestyles]

Pick me up.

Warnings- alcohol consumption, pet names and that's it really. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Summary- You and Harry haven't seen each other in a while, you're both head over heels for each other but neither of you will acknowledge it. You give him a call and he picks you up on his way home.

A/N- This is based on the unreleased song 'Pick me up' because its been stuck in my head for absolutely ages. This took me forever to write, I don't know why. I'm British so we use 'realised' instead of 'realized' etc. This piece is absolutely awful in my opinion but, nevertheless. I hope you enjoy :)

Feel free to send me any asks!🩷

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You sighed as you scrolled through your contacts on your phone, desperately trying to find his name. You and Harry hadn’t seen much of each other in the past few weeks. God, it was nearly a month. You were swamped with work and found yourself working late at the office almost every day. Harry was spending all of his time either in the studio, writing, at the gym or resting. He was exhausted from touring and you knew and respected that. 

You finally found his name in your contacts, Harry with a little pink flower emoji next to it. You smiled as you remembered the day you had changed his contact name to that. He had brought you some pretty pink tulips and taken you to the studio to play you demos of some songs that he had been working on (which had you smiling about it ear to ear for weeks). 

It was a Friday night and you had nothing better to do than lie on your bed and think about the man you so desperately wanted to be with. Your thumb hovered above his name. You contemplated pressing on it for a second until you finally took a deep breath and tapped it. You held the phone to your ear, listening to the first ring. You really weren’t too sure if he was going to pick up or not, you just laid there and hoped for the best. The second ring sounded through your ears, then the third and then the fourth. You were just about to lose hope until halfway through the fifth ring, you heard his voice.

“Hi sweetheart.” A smile graced your lips as a picture of him with his phone to his ear, leaning against the wall with a small smirk on his face popped into your thoughts. 

“Hi Harry. I’m sorry I haven’t called much recently. I’ve been rushed off my feet.” The feeling of guilt washed over your body.

“Don’t apologise. I'm always working, it’s a problem but I stopped as soon as I saw your name pop up on my phone.” Harry let out a breathy chuckle. “I wasn’t expecting a call but, uh, what are you doing right now?” He asked.

“In all honesty, I’m doing absolutely nothing. I was calling to see when you were next free. I’ve missed you.” The last party was said sheepishly compared to the rest of the sentence.

“I’ve missed you too, love. But lucky for you, I’ve just wrapped some things up in the studio so I’ll pick you up on the way home. You can stay at mine tonight.” Harry sounded certain on that and who were you to contradict? The last part of the phone call was a rush, you said something along the lines of ‘Okay, thank you. See you soon H.’ and then you both said your goodbyes. 

As soon as the line went dead, you jumped out of bed. You practically ran over to your wardrobe and pulled the doors open to find something to quickly throw on and grab some things to throw into your overnight bag. You didn’t have to worry about grabbing a toothbrush because you already kept one at Harry’s house. You settled for a pair of leggings and a grey slogan printed sweatshirt to wear since it was quite chilly outside. It was simple but it made you look cute. Harry had always said that you pulled off anything that you wore. 

You waited by the door for a text from Harry to tell you that he was outside. Your nerves had you tapping your foot and running your fingers through your hair. Why were you nervous? It wasn’t as if this was your first time going to Harry’s House. Your phone vibrated in your hand and his name lit up your phone screen. The text read ‘I’m outside. Ready when you are x’. You took one deep breath and walked outside. You saw his car and he turned his head to look at you. He smiled. You swore that you could faint any time you saw that smile. You locked your door and jogged down the steps in front of your house and towards his car. 

After shutting the passenger door and clipping your seat belt in, you felt the air become thicker. You two made small talk and spoke about things that had happened in the time that you hadn’t seen each other. It was then that you realised how seriously busy he had been. 

“You didn’t have to come and get me tonight you know. You could’ve told me how busy you were! I know I said I wanted to see you but I could’ve waited for a few days.” You felt awful. You wished he’d told you to wait until he actually had a free day and had at least taken time to give himself some rest. A smirk tugged at his mouth. “It was my choice to come and get you wasn’t it? It's been a while, that's okay though. Let's be honest, you called me and said you missed me. Of course I wanted to see you as soon as possible so I picked you up. Your house is basically on my way home anyway.” At that point, you questioned why you hadn’t made it official yet. You both so clearly wanted each other. 

You had both silently decided that you were each others after that night that you met. It had been casual for months since then. Neither of you had been with anyone else. You were basically together, you kept a toothbrush at his house, you would spend every night at one of your houses when you were both free and you would buy each other little gifts here and there but neither of you had actually made it official yet. You seriously wondered why but now wasn’t the time to bring it up.

Before long, you found yourself at the familiar door of Harry’s house. Excitement bubbled in your stomach at knowing that in moments you would finally be embraced by the home-y smell and feeling of his home that made you feel at ease instantly once again. 

As you walked in, you took your bag from off of your shoulder and placed it down. Harry walked into his kitchen and leant on the kitchen island, the open plan of his house still allowing him to see you putting your bag down and taking yourself over to him. 

You leant on your elbows at the opposite side of the island to him. You looked into his eyes. “Hi.” He said softly, his eyes creasing with a wide smile on his face. That smile. You were thankful that you were leaning on something that would hold your weight because your legs were honestly about to give out. That man made you so weak and he knew it. He just didn’t know to what extent. 

You two talked. About what? Literally anything and everything. Once Harry had cracked open a bottle of the red wine that he knew you especially liked, you two couldn’t stop chit-chatting. 

You started by reminiscing the times you had been out on little dates and how he had always brought you a bouquet of flowers when he showed up at your door to come and get you. Then the pair of you moved on to talk about all the random things that happened whilst you hadn’t seen each other. And then you let it slip that you’d had multiple fans ask you if you and Harry were a couple when you attended multiple of his shows. He didn’t really ask what you had said in response and had only just given you a smile sweeter than one you had seen all night whilst he let his gaze linger on you for longer than it usually did. From then on, you were too tipsy to recall most of what you had said.

The next thing you remembered was waking up the next morning in Harry’s bed with him. Your limbs were tangled around one another and he had you pulled against him in a tight hug. “Jesus.” you rasped. You saw Harry shift under you and heard him let out a breathy chuckle as you noticed the two nearly empty glasses of wine with the empty bottle of wine stood next to it on the bedside table. “We don’t need any more of that wine any time soon. We need water.” You stated matter-of-factly. When Harry opened his mouth to react, his phone started to vibrate. It wasn’t doing anything to help the great pounding in both of your heads. He frantically scrambled about to find the device whilst groaning at the ache that his entire body felt. “My mother’s calling.” He threw his head back as if he was in realisation of something. “Shit. It's Gemma’s birthday tomorrow and I forgot to pick up the cake that she ordered. I was meant to be there at ten” He swiped to answer Anne’s phone call and let himself fall back against the soft, plush pillows of his bed. You glanced at the clock on his bedside table. It was eleven o’clock already.

You raised yourself up slowly as Harry started speaking and decided to clear away the glasses and bottle of wine that the pair of you have left in the bedroom and tidy up any other mess you two had made throughout the night and into the early morning.

As you had finished cleaning the glasses that you had used and put them away, Harry emerged from his room. He looked unreal. You adored the sleepy smile on his face, the way his locks were all tousled and how his shirtless muscles flexed as he stretched his arms. He made his way over to you and started to speak in a sweet and audible mumble “I need to get ready and go m’love.” All he saw was how you looked over to him, poorly hiding the disappointment behind your eyes. He didn’t even need you to speak. He laced his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your head. “I know sweetheart. I know. I would rather spend most of the day here with you but I’ve got to go get that cake and then I’ve got a meeting at one and after that I’m going to Mum’s house.” You inhaled deeply and took in his scent. It puzzled you how he always smelt good. “When are you free again?” The sadness of your voice was slightly less prominent than you expected. However, you knew that he was a busy man and you were so grateful that he still made time for you. 

He unhooked his arms from you and stepped back so he could see you. “I don’t know, if I’m honest.” He sounded guilty and god, did you hate that. You looked up at him with a smile in an attempt to rid him of his tone. “That's okay. I understand. You’re a busy man H.” He looked down at you and his eyes lit up as if he had had an idea.

“Listen, I’m going to have an insane couple of weeks. I’ve got a load of shit to take care of but after I’ve finished it I’ll take a month off.” You went to protest but he silenced you before words left your mouth by placing both hands on your cheeks. “Don’t try and persuade me otherwise with your little ‘I’d feel awful’ thing. I want to take a month off and I want to spend every single day with you. Hell, I’ll take the rest of my days off if it means being with you” That man would be the death of you, you were sure of it. 

You met his eyes and yours lit up to match his. “Are you sure? You know how awful I’d feel and you’ll be swamped with so much shit to get done once you’ve had your time off.” You were so very clearly happy yet you still couldn’t stop yourself from rambling. Harry laughed. He fucking laughed. You stood there, mouth agape. “I was trying to warn you about how busy you’ll be when you get back to work, you dick.” He laughed again as he watched you shake your head and fight a smirk.

“I couldn’t care less about how busy I’ll be when I get back to work. I just want to spend time with you. I wasn’t laughing about you being concerned either, I just couldn’t help myself when you went on a rant. You are not going to convince me that this isn’t a good idea, okay?” You nodded in response with a massive grin like a Cheshire cat. 

You stood embracing each other for a few more minutes before you went and got a shower and Harry cleaned up the remains of the mess. The shower was refreshing and eased the pain in your head slightly. You changed into the clothes that you’d packed into your bag last night and made your way into the kitchen again. 

Harry had just headed for his shower. You sat yourself on one of the chairs situated around the island and patiently waited for him whilst checking your notifications that you’d missed. You’d had 12 texts from your best friend. Fuck. She definitely thought you were dead and you had some major explaining to do.

Harry emerged from his bedroom in a coral suit with a black button down underneath. Oh, he looked good. “Let me get you home angel.” He smirked before adding “You look good in that outfit y’know.” The blush that spread across your cheeks after was so prominent that you almost felt embarrassed. 

You gathered your things with his help and you both made your way to his car. You were almost disheartened to be going home, you craved more time with Harry but you knew that you didn’t have to wait too long until you had a month with him all to yourself. The drive was spent mostly in comfortable silence filled with the radio with the occasional little words between you .

The car came to a halt and you realised that you were home. You looked over to Harry. “Thank you Har, I’ve really missed you.” He beamed at you.“I’ve missed you too, I seriously have. I promise I’ll give you a call tonight.” He leant in to you and closed the gap between your mouths. It was a short peck yet was filled with emotion. You pulled back coyly. “Bye darling.” He beamed, once again. You said goodbye, grabbing your bag and exiting the car. You turned around and gave him a little wave. He returned it with a wink. You couldn’t comprehend how he kept getting more and more attractive to you as you spent more time with him. You unlocked your door as he drove off. When you entered your house, thoughts of him swam around your head.

You were utterly obsessed with him and you really didn’t know what to do about it.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry concept #harry smut #harry imagine #fluff #harrys house #fine line album #hs1 #harry styles hs1 #harry styles fine line

[shawnxstyles]

heyy ik you might be busy but can we get a harry fluff smut fic this weekend pls 😣

five course meal

warnings: smut; f-receiving (oral)

note: this was a few weeks ago, but why not try to sedate you for a little? here’s morning smut with a hungry harry :)

—

“baby,” harry breathes, lips ghosting over your neck as his breath fans over your skin. “so pretty.”

harry felt the need to praise you as often as possible: in the morning, before work, on the phone, after work, in the car, on date nights especially. he wanted to honor you because you were so special to him, special to the world. even when you didn’t feel your best, harry still wanted you to know how much he cared for you in those tough times. harry admired you more than anyone in the world.

“harry, please. i need you.”

“yeah? my sweet girl needs me?” his wandering hands crept up your large t-shirt and fondled the skin underneath. the rigid texture of his fingers rubbed the underside of your breasts, causing you to wiggle underneath him. “where do you need me, love?

“everywhere, h. please, no teasing.” you tended to plead for harry not to tease often. even though your body adored it and got off on it. you liked pushing your limits because the finale was always beyond blissful.

“no teasing? well that’s no fun,” he ran his fingers over your pebbles nipples before placing delicate kisses on your smooth torso. “are you going to deprive me of watching you fall apart? hm?”

“n-no,” your response came out as a stutter when his raspberry lips attached to your breast, swirling his tongue over the peaked bud. while distracting you, his hand sneaks its way to your panties. it was natural for your legs to widen when his hand approached you, obeying his silent command.

as his mouth pops off of you, the pads of his fingers massage you over your panties, causing you to mewl from his warm touch. you began to crave that sensation to be filled, the feeling tingling in your lower belly.

it’s not long because your panties are absolutely soaked, desperate arousal seeping through. that’s just what harry was waiting for; for you to be whiny and achy until you were gushing needily for him. that’s when he finally decided to drag your underwear down your unsteady legs.

harry’s large hands spread you open, smoothing over your thighs and practically prepping for his meal. his curious thumbs widen your cunt as you gasp, your wetness dripping onto the bed.

“so wet f’me, baby. love seeing you like this.”

you looked like an absolute wreck when his magical hands caressed you, held you, overpowered you—something inside of you was constantly bubbling and foaming, and when he touched you, it exploded into lustful, loving flames.

“gonna have a taste now, alright? i haven’t eaten yet.”

“‘cause you didn’t even let me get out of bed—” his mouth began slurping all of your dripping juices before you had a chance to finish complaining. your whines were converted into paused gasps and moans, fingers gripping the sheets beneath you. “i-i could’ve made you breakfast.”

he lifts his mouth off of you, your wetness around it, “shh, i’m eating now.”

and with that, he resumes his meal like it was his last, sucking on your clit momentarily before thrusting his skillful tongue inside of you. the constant switching has your orgasm approaching you fast. there’s also a slight burn from the small gruff he has built up around his lips, but it only riles you up more. as his short hair scratches your skin, moans spew from you without limitation.

“harry, i’m really close,” you warn, feeling the tightness pressing in your lower belly. your hands crawl up to his brown locks, twirling his hand intensely. it only urges him to press and lick harder into you, his own hands pushing you wider.

your hips convoluted towards his mouth, so much, that his forearms had to press them down vehemently.

overpowered.

fingers plucking your own breast, your orgasm fires up inside of you. that volcano in your belly explodes all over harry, and he doesn’t even flinch. he continues to lick, suck, drink, and devour you like a final goodbye. even when your cunt was sore and aching from overstimulation, he never removed himself from you. he was just too immersed in the taste of you, forever his favorite flavor.

“too much, h. too much,” you whined, but made no move to push him away. you could feel the smirk rising on his mouth against you when you gasped a breath as he inserted his tongue again.

finally, when he pops off of you, your clit is throbbing and your heated again. reading your body language, harry begins to blow cold air over your cunt, his line of fire directly on your clit. your hips jerk, extremely sensitive from the first orgasm.

“love when you’re all sensitive. you’re s’responsive.”

“you’re such a tease,” you roll your eyes before going to shut your legs. but harry stops you, placing his hands on your thighs.

“i never said we were done. i’m still eating, darling,” he kisses the trembling insides of your thighs that are irritated from his slight scruff. “you know i love m’five courses.”

you were in for a long morning.

—

:)

#shawnxstyles #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fiction #anon request #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles the album #harry styles fine line #love on tour #treat people with kindness

[harryssattelitestomper]

Secret relationship (Italy edition)

Faceclaim: Emilia Silberg

AN: hscox94 is Harry's secret account, and bunnyy/n is your secret account.

Y/Ninstagram story:

Liked by ynfan38, gemmatwist and 596,349 others

Y/Ninstagram First night in Italy 🇮🇹🍷

View all 1,936 comments

Ynfan83 that pasta looks si good!

Yourfriend Have fun and take lots of pics!

-Y/Ninstagram I will don’t worry! ☺️

Harryfan01 why did gemma like this?

-harryfab84 its probs just one of her friends

Y/N's private instagram:

Liked by annetwist, gemmastyles and 43 others

bunnyY/N Ready to go to the farmers market

View all 5 comments

annetwist have fun lovelies! Can't wait to see you guys soon❤️ 

-BunnyY/N can't wait to see you anne

gemmastyles Take me with you next time!

-bunnyY/N let's ditch h next time

-hscox94 heeeeey xx

Liked by ynfan93, annetwist and 697.563 others

Y/Ninstagram wanna play mermaids?

View all 1,394 comments

ynfan18 YES I DO

harryfan47 okay now anne liked her post do you think she and harry are daiting?

-harryfan19 i don't think so, i mean he hasn't been papped with her

Liked by annetwist, jeffazoff and 33 others

hscox94 Look at her😍

View all 3 comments

BunnyY/N stooooopp

annetwist my beautiful soon to be daughter-in-law😍

gemmastyles 😍😍😍

Liked by harrystyles, gemmastyles and 204,048 others

annetwist Glad to visit my baby boy on his vacay in Italy!

View all 103 comments

harryfan92 omg @Y/Ninstagram is also in Italy

-harryfan16 yeah! but i dont think theyre there together

Liked by harryfan20, harryfan85 and 2,405 others

harryflorals HARRY SEEN MAKING OUT WITH A GIRL IN ITALY! via harryfan97

View all 105 comments

harryfan95 okay that is def @Y/Ninstagram

-harryfan8 oh for sure!

Liked by hscox94, ynfan84 and 2,404 others

harryupdates YN TAKING A PIC WITH FANS IN ITALY. They said she was with Harry! via ynfan06

View all 263 comments

harryfan6 I KNEW SHE AND HARRY WERE TOGETHER

Y/Ns private instagram

Liked by harryfan66, hscox94 and 23 others

BunnyY/N Dinner with babes

View all 10 comments

annetwist looks lovely!

hscox94 Oh i look good

-BunnyY/N uhuh yeah sure

harryfan66 OMFG

Liked by harryfan99, harryfan12 and 2,485 others

harryflorals HARRY FROM YNs PRIVATE INSTAGRAM! Looks like Harry also has a private instagram account @hscox94

View all 1,384 comments

harryfan28 OMG I KNEW IT

harryfan18 yall have no idea what PRIVATE means

harryfan96 i feel so bad for them and especially YN since she got her private hacked :/

Liked by harryfan2, harryfan6 and 1,394 others

harryupdates MORE OF HARRY AND YN IN ITALY

View all 175 comments

harryfan92 they look so good together😩

harryfan42 THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE

Liked by annetwist, gemmastyles and 2,475,482 others

harrystyles my beautiful fiance😍

View all 2,306 comments

harryfan1 FIANCE

annetwist my beautiful daughter-in-law 🥰

-Y/Ninstagram love u anne

harryfan07 WAIT if she's his fiance then how long have they been together?!!

Y/Ninstagram love you bubs🥰

#harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles fake social media #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #hs1 tour #harry styles hs1 #hs1 supremacy #hs1 album #fine line album #harrys house

[celestialhrry]

The Box (AU)

The one where Harry, CEO of the biggest company in town, is an avid member of The Box club in Soho, and he happens to get a private room with his favorite performer, Y/N.

WARNING: Contains unprotected sex, blowjob, face fucking, choking, spitting, slapping, hair pulling, semi-public sex, dirty talk, fingering, degradation, name calling such as slut, whore, and cumdump, LHH, dom!Harry, sub!Reader

Harry’s POV:

I watched as her perfect body floated across the stage, wearing the skimpiest lingerie I have ever seen, causing an immediate bulge to erupt in my boxers. She is so effortlessly good at what she does, keeping everyone on the edge of their seats, wanting more.

I know I can pull her for a private room, it’s just if she is willing to do it. So, I decide to shoot my shot tonight, and start with a bid of $15K. No one seems to top that. That’s what I figured would happen.

She gives me a look, her eyes full of lust and passion, as I give her that same look back, clicking my tongue on the roof of my mouth. She gets off the stage and steps toward me, going painfully slow, making me wait even longer to finally get my hands on her.

She finally reaches where I’m sat in the back of the club, sitting herself down on my lap with no warning, slowly starting to grind her hips against mine, causing me to buck my hips up and put a hand on her waist to stop her from starting something out here.

She turns herself around, landing her lips on mine in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, trailing down to my neck and leaving a mark right below my earlobe.

“Meet me in the room in 30 minutes. I expect to see you there. On time. Don’t be late, Styles.” She gives me a swift smirk before hoisting herself off of me in one swift motion and heads towards where the rooms are to do whatever it is she has to before our little evening of fun.

Oh it’s over for me.

-

I knock on the door of the private room, waiting a couple seconds for a response from her.

“Come in.”

I practically knock the door off of its hinges with the amount of force I put into opening it as soon as she made one sound.

My eyes widen when I see her, sitting in a throne-like chair, wearing a red laced set, her bra making her tits look even more full than they did on that stage.

I walk towards the chair, circling around it, restraining myself from touching her. “Well, what do we have here? A little slut, waiting to be man handled like the filthy girl she is.” I chuckle lowly, a smirk creeping onto my lips.

“Open your mouth.” I say in a growly tone when I land in front of her. She obeys almost immediately, opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out, looking up at me with puppy eyes. I grab her jaw with my hand, a bit of force to my grip, spitting in her mouth before forcing it closed with my hand. “Keep it there for me, pretty girl, yeah?” She nods her head, obeying all of my commands. “Good girl.” I say before turning around to get myself situated.

I frantically undo my belt, throwing it to the side, not caring where it lands. I unzip my pants and undo the button impatiently, kicking them off my ankles, before turning back around and pulling my boxers off just enough to expose my cock.

She takes her bottom lip into her mouth once she sees my length, starting to smile. “You like what you see, angel?” I stare into her eyes. She nods her head and tries to touch me but I push her hand away.

“Ah, gotta see if you were a good girl for me. Open that pretty mouth if yours, need to see if you kept me there.” She obeys, opening her mouth, allowing me to see both of our saliva pool on her tongue.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for daddy, aren’t you?” I say, placing my lips on hers, forcing my tongue into her mouth, exploring her mouth, but not with too much force. She takes my tongue between her lips and gives it a gentle suck before continuing to kiss me.

Fuck. I’m so down bad.

She separates her lips from mine, trying to catch her breath. “Wanna make you feel good, daddy.” She looks up at me, taking my cock in her small hand and slowly starting to stroke it.

“Wanna give me a blowjob, pretty? Yeah? Want my cock in your pretty mouth?” She frantically nods her head, looking up at me with her puppy dog eyes.

I pick her up, taking her place in the chair before setting her gently down on her knees so that she’s eye level with my cock. She takes it in her hand, slowly stoking it up and down as she looks up at me, making eye contact.

She places a kiss to the pink tip, immediately causing me to throw my head back in pleasure. She places a few more pecks down my shaft before coming back up to take the tip in her mouth, gently sucking on it.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” I gather her hair into a ponytail with my fist and guide her mouth down my cock a bit further with each movement. She suddenly pulls off of me, and looks up at me with teary, red-rimmed eyes, a trail of spit dripping down her chin. I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight.

“Why’d you pull off, babylove? Was my cock too much for you?” I say in an enticing tone, almost sarcastically. “Want you to fuck my throat, daddy. Please. I’ll be good the rest of the night.” I smile deviously at her, so obedient and submissive. “Tap my leg 3 times if you need me to stop. Understood?” She nods her head head at me, letting me know that I can continue.

Without warning, I thrust my cock into her mouth, inching it slowly down her throat. She closes her eyes which causes a light slap to her cheek. “Look at me, baby. Eyes on me.”

She looks up at me as I thrust in and out of her pretty, little mouth, edging me closer and closer to cumming on the spot. But I can’t. She would think I was insane for cumming so fast, but she has no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.

I feel a few little taps on my leg, causing my movements to immediately stop as I pull out of her mouth, my mind immediately racing with thoughts. Did I do something wrong?

“What’s wrong, babylove? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Fuck, I’m so so sorry if I hurt you. I could never forgive myself for hurting you, my baby.” I say, holding her face, one hand on either side.

“Want your fingers, daddy.” She looks up at me with a devilish grin, a sigh of relief and anger coming out at the same time. Relief because I know she’s okay. Anger because she stopped pleasuring me just to tell me she wanted my fingers.

“Angel, you don’t tell me to stop unless I’m hurting you or making you uncomfortable. Stopping me because you want my fingers in your pretty little cunt is unacceptable. Now, since you’ve been such a good little slut for me all night, I’m letting this happen. This is your one and only warning.” I say the last sentence with a bit of sharpness in my voice.

I see a couch against the wall and without question, I pick Y/N up and place her on the couch so her back is against the soft cushion but her legs are lifted off of the couch. I taunt her legs open, placing wet kisses on her inner thighs, dangerously close to her cunt.

I pull her pretty panties to the side, her cunt dripping with her own arousal, all pretty and pink. All for me.

“Such a pretty pussy you’ve got, love. Cant wait to get my cock in there but we’ve gotta open you up a little first, huh? Such a tight little thing.” I say, slowly rubbing at her clit, seeing her face contort with pleasure, small whimpers escaping her lips.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” She says breathily, almost coming out as a whimper instead of clear words.

“Yeah? You like when I play with your pretty pussy, don’t you, baby?” She nods her head frantically at my words as I move up to place a kiss to her lips, our teeth clashing with the force one another is putting into the kiss.

I pull away from her lips and without warning, slide my index finger into her cunt, causing an immediate moan to escape both of our lips. “Shit, you’re so tight.” I say, thrusting my finger in and out, seeing her arousal glisten on my finger before adding another one.

“You want my cock in your pussy, pretty girl? Want daddy’s cock in that pretty little cunt, dripping all because of me? Beg for it.” I say in a tone that causes her eyes to immediately go dark, a smile creeping up her lips.

“Please, daddy. Please fuck me. Need to feel your cock in my pussy. Make me feel so good. Please.” She says, a slight hoarseness to her voice, making it that much hotter.

My tip teases her slit every so often, causing gasps and whimpers of pleasure to escape her perfect mouth. “Already whimpering and I haven’t even put my cock in you angel. Such a desperate little whore.”

She flashes a smile at me, seeming a bit flustered as her cheeks turn pink. “Please? Can I please ride your cock?” She whimpers, causing a low groan to escape from my parted lips.

I immediately help her up and place myself down in the chair before helping her on top of me and making sure she’s comfortable. I glide the tip of my cock along her slit, causing moans and whimpers to escape her lips, making me realize how desperate she is.

“Please fuck me, Harry. Please.”

“Is that what you want, baby? My cock inside your tight, little pussy? Yeah?”

She nods her head profusely. That won’t cut it for me.

“Words, baby. Use your words.”

“Yes, daddy. Please fuck me.”

I guide my cock slowly into her tight pussy, causing loud moans of pleasure to escape her mouth, her nails digging into my chest, surely leaving a mark.

“Fuck, angel. You feel so good around me. So, so good. Just move whenever you’re ready, baby.”

She slowly starts to move up and down, gaining speed with each thrust. I throw my head back in pleasure, raspy groans and moans escaping my lips.

She moves her head out of my neck and places her lips on mine, starting a heated kiss, tongues immediately finding their way to each other. She pulls away and gives me a smug smile, biting her lip, a small chuckle escaping her lips.

“Shit, you’re so good, H. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Let go, angel.”

She immediately goes limp, her legs shaking, having quite the orgasm. What a beautiful fucking sight that is.

Just when she thought we were done, I bend her over on the chair, her knees on the ground, and thrust my cock straight into her pussy.

“Fuck! Holy shit! That feels so good.”

“Yeah? You like that, baby? Does it hit your spot?”

“Fuck, yes it does. Feel you in my tummy, daddy.”

“That’s what I like to hear, babylove.”

I notice her legs start trembling again, me getting close to my high as well.

“Fuck, daddy. Please cum inside me. I want it all.”

“Shit. I’m gonna cum angel. You’re so good. So good.”

I feel my cock start to twitch inside of her, before I let go and cum right inside her pretty, little pussy.

“Daddy’s little cumdump, aren’t you?”

#harry styles #fetus harry #frat boy harry #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #one direction #zayn malik #harry styles smut #long hair harry #fine line album #harrys house #foryou #harry x reader #dom!harry #dom harry styles #sub reader

[lomllover]

in which y/n and harry have a stillbirth…

-

liked by harrystyles and 5,479,012 others

yourinstagram

We are shocked and in so much pain, the kind of pain you only want to hear about and never experience. On November 6th while Harry was sick with the flu, I unexpectedly started spotting which didn’t happen with my pregnancy with Oliver so we went to the hospital. When we got there and my OB/GYN ran some tests and did an ultrasound, she told us that the baby wasn’t going to make it.

With Ollie we didn’t know his name until two hours after he was born but when we found out we were having a little girl, we immediately knew her name would be Luna Anne. Luna for my grandmother and Anne for H’s mom. So she will always be Luna Anne to us. She worked so hard to be apart of this little family and she always will be.

To our Luna, I’m so sorry that the first few moments of your life were filled with pain and so many complications, that we couldn’t give you the home you needed to survive. We will forever and always love you.

Thank you to everyone who has been sending us positive energy, thoughts, and prayers. We truly feel all your love and appreciate you so much.

We are beyond grateful for the life we have, for Ollie, for our friends and family, and for all the amazing things we’ve gotten to experience. But not everyday can be filled with sunshine. On the darkest of days, we will grieve, we will cry our eyes out, but we will love and hug each other harder to get through it.

-

liked by yourinstagram and 7,528,190 others

harrystyles

Thank you to everyone who has been sending us well wishes. We feel and appreciate your love and support more than you’ll ever know. More than anything, we’ve heard so many stories about how so many other families that have experienced this pain, often suffering in silence. It’s something no one wants to be apart of but I’m glad we’re not alone. I’m sure Y/N will have more to say about this in the future when she’s ready. But just know we’re so grateful for you and your families.

Love you all.

Thank you again,

Y/N, Harry, and Ollie.

#dad!harry #angst!harry #reblog #harry styles x you #harry styles #husband!harry #harry styles fake instagram #instagram blurb #harry styles one shot #boyfriend!harry #harry styles stuff #harry's house album #fine line album #hs1 album

[hstyleswiftx]

SOMEONE PLEASE WRITE IMAGINE WHERE YN HANDS THE ALBUM OF THE YEAR TROPHY TO HARRY AT THE GRAMMY CEREMONY AND HE ASKS HER AFTER THE AFTER PARTY AND THEY KISS

OMG I NEED IT

#harry styles #one direction #imagines harry styles #fine line #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harrys house #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles soft #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #grammys #album of the year #harry styles grammys #harry styles cute #harry styles updates #harry styles unreleased #harry styles preferences #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x singer!reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x oc #harry styles x pregnant!reader #harry styles and reader #harry styles and y/n

[cinemastyles-blog]

A short but dirty blurb about Harry having a FaceTime interview talking about his newly dropped Lights Up single and you decide to mess around with him while he does it.

Warnings: kinda smut, some strong language, mainly blowjob/handjob, no fluff

Master

∘₊✧── 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎 ──✧₊∘

"You have that interview today, right?" You ask from the kitchen. Harry looks at you over his shoulder, "I do. Yes."

You nod and a very hot but possibly bad idea pops into your head and your lips form into a smirk.

"Why?" Harry asks.

You shake your head, "Oh, no reason. I just wasn't sure if it was today or not." You bite your lip and turn around. You let out a quick sigh and look up at Harry, who's walking towards you.

"Are you going to get ready?" You ask pulling him in by his purple robe. He shrugs, "No. I'm just going to get on wearing this." He pops his hood up and smiles.

"Love it." You lean up and kiss him. He smiles and wraps his arms around your waist, "I love you."

"Love me enough to let me suck you off while you do your interview?" The words roll off your tongue and cause Harry to freeze, "W-What?"

"You heard me."

He bites his lip and squints, "Mm. I don't know."

You fake pout, "I promise I'll be quiet." You run a finger up and down his chest. He chuckles, "I don't know if I can."

You laugh and shrug, "Only one way to find out."

——

"Good morning, Harry. How are you?" You hear them greet him, "It's early for you, isn't it?"

Harry laughs, "I'm up very early indeed."

You walk over and lean against the door frame, watching as he smiles and continues to speak with the interviewer.

Harry's eyes flick up to you and he fights a smirk as he looks back down, "Yeah it's a very uplifting song."

You slowly get down on your knees and quietly crawl under the table. Harry is already sitting with his knees spread, which makes it easier for you.

“So, we’ve all seen the video and I’m just going to ask for all of us, how did you get so.. oiled up? Was it oil?” The interviewer asks.

Harry chuckles and stops as you slide your hands up his legs, coming to find that he’s completely naked underneath.

You bite your lip and move the robe slowly out of the way.

Harry pauses for a moment, “I think .. it was aloe vera actually.. I had-“

You wrap your hands around his already hard cock and he moves around in his seat slightly before speaking, “I had actually.. got a little sunburnt while I was there… it was a little more healing.”

You lick your lips and lean up, taking the tip of his cock into your mouth as you work your hand up and down him slowly.

You can tell he’s trying to keep it together. His thighs part and come close, his legs bounce, and he is taking a bit more time to answer the questions.

“You turned down the role of Prince Eric, right Harry? Is there any specific reason as to why?”

You push your head down, getting his cock to enter your throat and he slides his hand down and grips your hair, “They, uh.” He clears his throat, “They shoot for so long.. and I want to tour next year… Maybe. Don't know, that's potentially...” he stumbles over his words as you bring him into the start of complete bliss.

“Maybe not… I ha- Haven't announced that yet... But maybe." His grip on your hair gradually grows tighter as he holds you down on his cock.

Harry is playing this game, too. Knowing you have to stay quiet because one wrong sound and the media will run with it.

“Lights Up, I mean… come on.. it’s a total hit, but what’s it about? What’s the inspiration behind it if you don’t mind us asking.”

Harry bucks his hips slightly and leans back, as you lift your head off of him. You quietly pull yourself together as he moves down further in the chair, "For me, the song is about freedom. It’s about self-reflection and self-discovery and just, like freedom.”

You spit into your hand and start jerking him off, slow then fast, slow then fast. Leaning in, you kiss up his thighs and gently take his balls into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them.

He gasps but quickly covers it up with a cough, “It-It feels like very free to me.. A couple things that I’ve .. thought about and I guess .. wrestle with a little bit over the last couple years.” His hand grabs your wrists as he slows your motions down.

You move up and lick from the base of his cock, to the tip and kitten lick it. You slowly swirl your tongue around him and teasingly suck on him. “It’s kind .. of like just accepting all of those things. It’s a very positive song to me." He speaks quickly and you hear his fingers tap the table.

You sink your mouth down onto him and quickly bob your head, getting into a steady rhythm as your hand gently fondles his balls.

You can tell he’s getting close, that he’s ready for this interview to be over with.

“Y-Yeah.” Harry says as he goes back to gripping your hair. His hand slides down to your neck and he squeezes, “I’m just.. very excited about this.”

You feel his cock twitch and his cum shoot into your throat.

You continue to suck, knowing that that really gets him riled up. He slides his hand down under your chin and pushes you off as he pulls his hips back.

You lick your lips and sit there, rubbing his thighs with your hands, eagerly waiting for him to be done so he can punish you on the kitchen table.

——

Requests are accepted! Just send them my way!  

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@daddybuckethat

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If you would like a part 2 to this, let me know!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut oneshots #harry styles dirty fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles smutty fanfic #dirty oneshots #cinemastyles-blog #smut #smut blurb #blurb #fine line era harry #fine line album #fine line harry styles #hs fine line #lights up #harry styles blurb #dirty imagine #dirty blurb #smutty #smutty oneshot #smutty blurb #smut blurbs #dirty blurbs #dirty fine line Harry #wattpad smut #smut fanfiction #smut oneshots #smutty fanfics

[avalentina]

Short Stories Inspired By Harry Styles (and One Direction) Songs

By: Ava Lentina

Author's Note: This is an ongoing series, all of which can and will be able to be read independently from each other.

Another Note: I would love to feature you lovelies in this series, just post your favorite Harry Styles or One Direction song and what name you want me to use for your character using the tag #avaSSIBHSS

Sign of The Times (483 Words)

(Starring Harry and Ava)

Ava just stood there in her finest black dress, watching her brother's casket get lowered into the ground. A hand squeezed hers and she turned to find Harry. Her childhood best friend and long time crush.

"I never did like seeing you cry." He said to her and wiped away a tear.

"Now is not the time, Harry." Ava replied.

"Then when, I miss you, I miss us." He added.

"I miss you too, I miss us too, but right now I need to grieve, my 18 year old brother is getting buried after being fatally shot in a gang fight he had nothing to do with."

"Just remember, I'm here for you."

********

Harry was there for her, and she needed him more than anyone could ever imagine. She needed him as she began her investigation into who exactly killed her brother. She needed him the day she found out, and she needed him as she testified against the guy.

The day of sentencing, they were supposed to meet at the courthouse. But Harry never showed. Ava tapped into the inner strength Harry always swore she had an endless well of, and made it through. But when she left the courthouse, there were people waiting for her.

"Miss Winston, can you confirm the rumors of Harry Style's death?" A journalist asked her.

"I'm sorry, what? I just spoke with Harry this morning," Ava told the journalist and excused herself.

Once safe in the black town car that would return her to her flat, Ava called Harry's number. There was no answer. She immediately gave the driver Harry's address and told him to drop her there.

She got out of the car and let herself in, calling out for Harry as she went. After searching the entire inside, she went out to the garden and found a bleeding, unconscious Harry just lying there, completely still, like deathly still in the grass.

"HARRY!" She screamed and ran to him, using her scarf to try and stop the bleeding, while also calling an ambulance. Ava rode with Harry in the ambulance, he was still alive, but just barely.

Harry was placed into a medically induced coma, where the doctors were able to stabilize him, he was out for a week, but when he did finally open his eyes, there was Ava, sitting by his bedside, her eyes all red, puffy, and bloodshot from all the tears she had shed. But to him she was still the most beautiful woman.

"Harry?" Ava asked after she thought she saw him blink.

"Run away with me, my love." Harry responded and Ava just nodded before kissing him desperately.

"It's time to get away, my love." Ava whispered as they parted before pressing their foreheads together.

And run away they did. To a small island somewhere in the Caribbean, where they lived peacefully and quietly, enjoying their happily ever after.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

Thank you so much for reading Sign Of The Times the first in my SSIBHSS series of blurbs. And don't forget to use the tag #avaSSIBHSS with your favorite song and what name you would like me to use for your character.

Love Ya's

-Ava

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harrystyles #harry 1d #hstyles #avaSSIBHSS #harry edward styles #harry's house album #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #fine line album #harry styles album #harry styles au

[harrysfolklore]

hi bestie,, idk if u take requests buttt have u seen kieran culkin speech after he won his emmy & then him asking his wife for another baby on stage 😁🤭🤭 idk i thought that would a cute h blurb

that kieran speech was SO CUTE i just had to take this request !!! happy one year of grammy winner Harry for those who celebrate! i hope you like this as much as I do

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The night had been one for the books.

Harry became a Grammy winner for the second time within the first 30 minutes of the ceremony, getting the award for Best Pop Vocal Album, and your heart bursted with joy and pride and you watched him collect it.

He also delivered an amazing performance even though he had a stage malfunction that was out of his control, and after a few minutes of pep talk backstage, you convinced him that he should be proud of what he did no matter what.

Nights like tonight made you look back at your journey with Harry, from getting frustrated each year when the Grammys refused to give One Direction a nomination, to consoling him when his debut single Sign of the Times got overlooked and celebrating when they finally ave him his long overdue nomination for Fine Line. And now, being one of the most nominated artists of the night and a winner already.

Harry was not an artist that let awards or numbers define his career at all, but you knew that deep down he appreciated getting a nod and recognition for the hard work he puts into his music.

"What's on your mind, honey?" Harry asked and he noticed that you had been quiet for a few minutes, the show was on a commercial break so you could talk freely.

"Just thinking about how am I getting a picture with Beyoncé before the night ends," you joked, making him laugh along, "I'm also thinking about the bub, do you think she's okay?"

Harry couldn't help but smile at the mention of your daughter. Little baby Styles had been welcomed into the world a year and a half ago, looking like an exact carbon copy of Harry with curls, dimples and charming green eyes.

It's safe to say that she became Harry's entire world from the moment he saw her for the first time.

"I bet she's fast asleep by now after snuggling with mum for hours," you smiled at the thought, "You know she's obsessed with mum."

"She just loves her nana," you almost cooed, "And her Grammy winner daddy, even tho she doesn't have any idea what that means."

"You know," Harry began, and by the look on his face you knew he was up to no good, "She could become obsessed with her bay brother or sister too, if we decided to give her one."

The smirk on Harry's face after his statement was almost devilish, making you look him with wide eyes and a grin on your own.

"Are you asking me for another baby in the middle of the Grammys?" Harry shrugged, the smirk not leaving his face, "You're a menace. But, maybe if you win, I'll think about it."

Before Harry could reply, the lights dimmed signaling that commercial break was over and it was time for more awards, more specifically, the most important award of the night: Album of the Year.

Trevor Noah, the host, talked about the importance and meaning of the award, the fans the production had invited to support the nominees stood beside him in a line.

You could barely focus on what was being said because your eyes were fixed on Harry's hand gripping yours tightly, and you felt like throwing up from nerves if you looked at the stage.

And the Grammy goes to…” Trevor spoke into the mic, making a dramatic pause that felt way too long and made you finally look up no the stage, noticing that he was standing in front of Reina, Harry's fan.

And that was the moment you knew, the Album of the Year was Harry's House.

“It’s you!” both you ans Jeff whisper-yelled in unison, looking at each other with shocked faces and making Harry give you a confused look.

“What do you-” and before he could even finish his sentence his name was being called out and the trumpets from Music for a Sushi Restaurant filled the place.

Harry immediately covered his face in disbelief, shaking his head and taking in in the moment. You couldn't help but stand up and jump in your place, adrenaline and excitement, but mostly pride, running through your veins.

"My love, you won! Harry's House won!" you said into his ear when he finally wrapped his arms around you, pecking the side of yiur head repeatedly before kissing your lips quickly.

"I love you," was all he said before getting rushed into the stage along with his collaborators and friends.

"Shit!" was the first thing that came out of his mouth once he had his Grammy in hand, making everyone laugh, “I mean,shit! I’ve been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. At a lot of different times in my life I listen to everyone in this category when I’m alone,” he took a breath,"I think on nights like tonight, it’s obviously so important for us to remember that there is no such thing as best in music. I don’t think any of us sit in the studio thinking, making decisions based on what is gonna get us one of these.”

You stood with your hands clutched to your chest, your eyes filled with happy tears and nothing but love and admiration for him.

"I'd like to thank my mom and my sister for being my biggest supporters and giving me a great childhood, I would be nowhere without you," he paused to look directly at you from the stage, his eyes immediately watering again, "And of course my beautiful wife, YN. Thank you for sharing your beautiful life with me and giving me an amazing daughter who is the reason I do what I do everyday,"

You were unaware of the camera focusing on your and catching the moment you mouthed an 'I love you' to him from your place.

"I love you both so much, you mean the world to me. And YN," he paused, the devilish look from earlier making his way to his face again, along with a teasing raised eyebrow that told you that he was about to do something major, "I want another one."

The entire arena erupted into laughs and cheers, Jeff clapped and whistled from beside you and you couldn't help but cover your face in shock and embarrassment, astonished by Harry's anctics.

"You said, maybe if I won, and I did!" the crowd laughed even more, "I love you, so much. Thank you for this, I'll never forget it."

Harry got off the stage and you met him backstage to congratulate him properly, after a final performance the night came to an end and everyone headed outside the arena to celebrate.

"Do you feel like partying tonight? The label is throwing a celebration but if you feel tired we can skip it," Harry said as you both sat on the back of his Range Rover.

"Honestly, I just want to go home, kiss our baby goodnight and celebrate with my Grammy winner husband in private," you smiled at him teasingly, "Maybe get started on that second baby making."

The smile that appeared on Harry's face after hearing your words was bigger than the one from winning a Grammy.

"Home it is, then."

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles fake social media #harry styles story #harrysfolklore #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles grammy #1k

[seeingivy]

Omg can u do a one shot where reader goes to the eras tour with Gojo??

miss americana and the heartbreak prince

satoru gojo x f!reader

an: this didn't mesh well as a one shot when I wrote it, so i hope this mix of blurbs and headcanons is ok <3 also, this is for a very specific audience, feel free to ignore on your dash!!!

--

satoru gojo, in his infinite knowledge and wisdom, is first exposed to the eras tour when you ask him to sign up for a presale code

“wait, so. you just want me to sign up for all the dates?” satoru asks, voice echoing through your phone speaker.  “yes, make sure that you verify your ticketmaster account and everything now. and then when you do that, send me a picture so i can make sure you did it right.” you respond.  “it’s not rocket science, babe. i’m sure i can figure out how to do it.” satoru grumbles, as you hear typing on the other end of the line.  “just take the picture when you’re done.”  “was this that important that you had to call me while I was at work?”  “babe. this is taylor swift. of course it was.”  “right.” 

the fated day of buying tickets come and you and satoru are literally hiding from your bosses in the corner of your office - laptops pulled up and anxiously watching the queue

you're both nervously watching the numbers get smaller and smaller, nervous hands open on a twitter tab that's talking about people getting kicked out of the line, locked out, or being told that the tickets are already all gone

but by the grace of god, satoru's laptop goes through first and he manages to bag the two of you floor tickets and you're in

you climb into bed, pushing the hair off of satoru’s head to give him a kiss on the forehead, before you tuck yourself into the sheets and nestle into his arms.  “sweetheart.”  “hm?”  “can i ask you a question? you don’t have to say yes.” he asks, voice all uncharacteristically shy.  you prop yourself up on his bare chest, trying to discern the look on his face in the dark, as you nod.  “can i go to the concert with you?”  and when you see the little frowny face he has on, you can’t help but laugh at the entire ordeal, at the satoru gojo begging you to take him to a taylor swift concert. and when you start laughing, he starts grumbling, turning his surely pink face away from you.  “shut up.”  “oh my god, toru. you’re so cute, you know that?”  “i’m glad my misery is adorable to you.”  “I’d love if you would come to the concert with me. on one condition.”  “what’s that?”  “you have to learn all the lore and listen to the songs before we go. i’m not about to be that girl standing next to the guy who doesn’t know the surprise songs on the floor.”  “okay. what’s a surprise song?”  you press your fingers against his lips and place a kiss on his cheek.  “all in good time.”

you make a game plan for satoru, color coded and planned out, for him to learn everything you want him to know

you break it down for him era by era, asking him to first listen to the album and send you his reviews - and then explaining important key details that he would need to know

and it evolves so fast, because he gets more and more excited as he goes on, texting you his thoughts at work

he just needs a reason to not do work, but he gets REALLY REALLY INTO IT

satoru: YOU’RE GAY.  you: no? i don’t think so satoru: i’m singing picture to burn babe, be quiet satoru: if the way i loved you is country music, slap a flannel and a cowboy hat on me because i am FLOORED. ABSOLUTE BANGER.  you: PLEASE ARE YOU LISTENING AT WORK???  satoru: mind your own business.  satoru: also, who is mr. perfectly fine about?  you: joe jonas.  satoru: she dated joe jonas?  you: no satoru, she dated barack obama. yes, she dated joe jonas.  satoru: well now i hate him. he’s so rude.  satoru: THIS IS ME SWALLOWING MY PRIDE STANDING IN FRONT OF YOU SAYING IM SORRY FOR THATTTT NIGHT  you: last night when you ate my leftovers?  satoru: that wasn’t me you: sure.  satoru: is dear john about john mayer?  you: yes. we don’t like him.  satoru: fuck yeah we don’t. SHINING LIKE FIREWORKS OVER YOUR SAD EMPTY TOWN??? JOHN, JOHN WHEN I CATCH YOU  satoru: babe if you ever break up with me ill go sleep on the highway  you: ok?? I wasn’t planning on it satoru: do not EVER give me a reason to relate to last kiss i will actually do something dangerous  you: why did shoko just send me a picture of you with your head down on your desk at work?  satoru: babe please don’t talk to me rn. i just listened to all too well and i am inconsolable.  you: wait till you watch the short film.  satoru: PLEASE I CAN’T HANDLE THIS. JAKE GYLLENHAL ALEX THE LION FROM MADAGASCAR WHEN I GET YOU.  you: ok satoru. pipe down.  satoru: ARE WE OUT OF THE WOODS YET ARE WE OUT OF THE WOODS YET ARE WE OUT OF THE WOODS YET  you: i feel like im creating a monster.  satoru: I WANT YOU FOR WORSE OR FOR BETTER BROKE YOUR HEART ILL PUT IT BACK TOGETHER satoru: just finished reputation. many thoughts  you: oh???  satoru: one. can we get frisky to dress? two. I am buying you a necklace with my initial on it. three. king of my heart is my favorite song so far. four. CAN WE GET FRISKY TO DRESS. five. kanye west, when I get you. you: satoru. you are at work. please focus.  satoru: i know that’s a yes.  satoru: just listened to lover. I am inconsolable and i love this white woman. DAYLIGHT??? THAT’S SO ME AND YOU. LOVER??? THAT’S SO ME AND YOU. PAPER RINGS??? ME AND YOU.  you: do not take paper rings as an excuse to not buy me a real ring. I am expecting a nice six pronged gold band circular cut diamond.  satoru: also can we get frisky to false god.  you: satoru gojo.  satoru: babe. urgent. 911.  you: what.  satoru: am i augustine or am i betty??  you: you’re inez. nosy gossiping ass bitch.  satoru: EXCUSE ME. also invisible string is so us. joe alwyn, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS.  you: well. satoru: is she ok. like seriously, is taylor ok??? if she has happily been in a relationship for six years why did she write tolerate it? doesn’t she know my mental health is fragile?  you: why tf are YOU crying about tolerate it? we’ve been in a stable relationship for four years satoru: i was imaging you being mean to me. it really hurt my feelings  you: ok.  satoru: long story short, the masterpiece that you are. JOE AND TAYLOR YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS.  satoru: what is their name combined  you: toe.  satoru: ok… satoru: MEET ME AT MIDNIGHT you: oh god. you’re at the end. let’s hear it.  satoru: one. can we get frisky to maroon? two. you’re on your own kid changed my life. three. sweet nothing is us. four. can we get frisky to maroon. five. john mayer i will KILL YOU. six. also is like scooter braun a crack head or something like what is vigilante shit even about  satoru: babe. satoru: no.  satoru: YOU’RE LOSING ME???? JOE???? JOE ALWYN MY BROTHER JOE ALWYN???? NO.  you: yes.  satoru: Y/N. HE WON’T MARRY HER?????? IM GOING TO KILL HIM. THE GUY WHO LOVER IS ABOUT??? WHO MASTERMIND SWEET NOTHING INVISIBLE STRING IS ABOUT???  satoru: do not talk to me. I hate you.  you: WHAT DID I DO

satoru gets more and more excited about the entire thing as it goes on, telling YOU that you need to start planning outfits and making bracelets like you weren't the one who got him into this

satoru cannot make friendship bracelets. but he likes watching you make them and asking you all the little things you like about the music

“ok. what do i make the next one?”  “hm. did you do style yet?”  “no.”  you start collecting all the beads as satoru props his phone up against the table, to the live stream of the concert. every night, the two of you watch the surprise songs together and make a note of which ones you lose from your drafted list of picks - a mix of yours and satoru’s favorite songs that aren’t on the setlist.  “open.”  satoru holds the spoon of noodles right over your lips as you focus on finishing the bracelet, his eyes focused on the live stream.  “satoru.”  “hm?”  “can i ask a weird question?”  “sure.”  “you seem like you’re like really into this. like actually.”  “well, i am. this is serious - i cannot lose clean for a second time or i will break something.”  “not that. I just mean, the entire thing. like the songs and the music and all that. you…are really into it.”  “well, why wouldn’t i be? it’s something you like. and it clearly means a lot to you, so it does to me too.”  you can feel your cheeks burning at how blunt he is about the entire thing, like it’s something so obvious, like him putting in all this effort to like something you do is a given. you lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, which he smiles at before focusing back on the live stream.  “BABE. NO.”  “OH MY GOD." “ITS CLEAN.” “TORU HOW DID WE LOSE A SONG TWICE.”

satoru decides that the two of you are going to go as miss americana and the heartbreak prince - and watches you meticulously collect fabrics and threads to make the pink dress you had in mind

you made it a point to also sew on the little broken heart for satoru's light pink shirt and white slacks that he was going to wear to the concert and buy the two of you matching gold crowns to wear together

“something is missing from my outfit, y/n.”   you frown, looking over at him as he fixes the little gold crown you got him on his white hair.  “what are you talking about? you look fine.”  satoru digs through your makeup box, rummaging around till he pulls out a tube of your red lipstick.  “you want to wear it, toru?”  “what? no. you put it on and then plant a bunch of kisses on my cheeks. so it leaves a mark.”  “oh?”  “IT’LL LOOK BETTER THAT WAY. I SAW SOMEONE ON TIK TOK DO IT.”  you roll your eyes as you lean forward in the mirror, blotting the buttery product on your lips and ignoring the devilish smile that satoru’s giving you in the mirror. and then you turn around and cup his face in your hands, making it a point to pepper long kisses on his cheeks and the side of his neck, making sure the full mark of your lips is left on his skin.  and when you’re done, he turns in the mirror and gives you a satisfied smile.  “perfect.”  “you’re so lame, satoru. if you wanted me to kiss you, you should have just asked.”  “can i have a kiss?”  “no.”  he leans forward and wraps his arms around your waist, it being his turn to smother you in kisses, eliciting a laugh from you when his breath tickles your neck.  “shut up.”

type of mf to take BILLIONS OF PICTURES of you outside the concert and even more with you, until you both get ones you like

also, totally wears a stack of friendship bracelets that you made together, but only trades with other boyfriends and dads in solidarity

man stands for the entire concert with you, except during the man. because he knows his place.

you start SOBBING during lover and he's there just smiling at how SILLY you are and wiping your little tears away. you both sway to the song together and scream the bridge together.

he takes a picture of you doing the fearless heart with taylor in the back. bc duh.

speaking of, this dude is NOT recording taylor AT ALL he is recording you and taking pictures of you and it's literally the most wholesome thing ever

like you're just so excited and jumpy that he thinks its cute and he wants to document it

but then he's so inconsolable during tis the damn season and tolerate it that he's SCREAMING THE LYRICS with the passion of ten suns (he is an evermore stan, fight with the wall)

takes a video of you singing during enchanted (which he later makes his lockscreen)

fighting for his life during all too well. like everyone else.

your surprise songs are dear john and daylight - which you're both screaming together on the floor.

satoru is giving YOU the side eye when you scream DATE ME TAYLOR during vigilante shit chair moment.

mister man is blushing when you point at him when taylor sings karma is my boyfriend

carries you out of the concert bc he knows your feet are killing you.

and feeds you after. bc duh. post concert munchies at a fast food drive thru.

--

an, again: tee hee this was so silly but so fun to think about. and for a very niche audience AHAHHAHA. also it feels weird to use my taglist when this is for a VERY specific audience so I will ignore.

#adding this as an extra #for taylor as gojo #ty for this fun ask anon! #satoru #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #gojo #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

[harryssattelitestomper]

Instagram blurbs:

Hard launch

Faceclaim: Sofia Richie Grainge

Harrychella

Faceclaim: Devon Lee Carlson

Slane castle (Slane, Ireland)

Faceclaim: Olivia O’Brien

Honeymoon

Faceclaim: Carolina Ponti

Wembley N1

Faceclaim: Cindy Kimberly

Wembley N2

Faceclaim: Camille Rowe

Secret relationship (Italy edition)

Faceclaim: Emilia Silberg

Opening act!Yn

Faceclaim: Gracie Abrams

Italian summer

Faceclaim: Phoebe Tonkin

#harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fake social media #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake instagram #fine line harry styles #harrys house #hs1era #hs1 album #harry styles hs1 #hslot #harries #fine line #hs1 #hs1 supremacy

[celestialhrry]

City Lights

The one where Y/N, Harry’s fiancée, their daughter, Lyla, and him take a walk through NYC at night, as he is currently doing his New York residency shows.

Y/N’s POV

“Woah, daddy, look at all the lights over there!” Lyla points at the tall building in front of her, perched on Harry’s shoulders, looking so mesmerized by everything around her.

“Yeah, they’re cool, aren’t they, bug?” Harry says, looking up at his daughter with so much love for her in his eyes. Harry slowly rubs the outside of your hand with his thumb, fingers intertwined, his other hand protectively holding Lyla’s leg.

Harry looks over at you, a loving smile on his face. You peck his cheek, making that smile of his grow a tad bit bigger, if that was even possible.

You notice Lyla’s eyes become a bit droopy, signaling she’s getting tired which most likely means she’s also getting quite grumpy.

“Daddy, put me down, pleaseeee!” She whines, hitting his head repeatedly with her small hands. Although it may not have hurt, Harry and I are trying to discipline Lyla.

“Lyla Marie, we do not hit. Do you understand me? Now, before I put you down, I want you to apologize to me, okay?”

“Yes, I understand. I am very sorry for hitting you. I won’t do it again. I pinky promise, daddy.” Harry and her link their pinkies together, smiling at each other so happily.

“Harry baby, I think we should head back to the hotel. It seems to me that little miss Lyla over here is turning into a grump. We need to get her to bed pretty soon.”

“Okay, my love. We can start heading back, okay?” You nod your head at his statement, turning around and heading back towards your hotel.

Lyla falls asleep on Harry’s shoulders, her cheek squished against the top of his head. You pull out your phone a take a picture of it to capture the memory. You and harry walk hand in hand, but silently, not to wake your sleeping daughter.

The two of you arrive back at the hotel, heading ti the top floor, which also happens ti be the penthouse, which also happens to be the room we are staying in for the next month or so while Harry does his residency shows here in Manhattan.

Harry, with your help, carefully takes Lyla off of his shoulders in one swift motion, being cautious not to wake her peaceful, sleeping body. He walks into her bedroom and carefully pulls the sheets down, placing her sleeping body on the bed and tucking her in. The both of you place a soft kiss to her forehead, before turning out the light in her room and leaving the door a tad bit open, which is how she sleeps every night.

You and Harry head back to your room, which is right across the room from hers.

“She is so perfect, you know that, honey?” Harry says to you, sighing in content. You smile at him, placing a couple of pecks on his lips.

“Yeah, she sure is, H. She sure is.”

-

Sorry I’m so inconsistent with my posting. I just started my senior year of high school and am trying to balance my classes and college applications. Once college applications are over with and I make my decision, I will try my best to post more on here. Also sorry it’s so short. I love you guys so much! <3

#fetus harry #frat boy harry #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #long hair harry #one direction #zayn malik #fine line album #harry styles smut #harry styles fashion #harry styles love on tour #love on tour #harry styles london #prince hair harry #louis tomlinson #niall horan #up all night #take me home #midnight memories #made in the am #one direction songs #music #foryou #hs1era #fine line era #harrys house #love of my life #matilda

[alonetimelover]

M A S T E R L I S T

Hello and welcome within Action!Universe, where YOU are the main character.

Sit (or lay) comfortably and enjoy the success, drama, love, hate and so much more.

Social Media posts

1. 2017 - 2018 Harry and Director!Reader start their relationship after filming Sign Of The Times music video. Concerts together. First article. Anniversary. Big movie to direct.

2. 2018 - 2019 Harry and Director!Reader anniversary in Italy. One Night Only - Fine Line. Premiere of Director!Reader's film.

3. 2020 Director!Reader nominated for an Oscar. Attending gala with Harry. First win. Gossip. DWD. Betrayal.

4. late 2020 - 2022 Director!Reader and Stranger Things. New man. Harry's House. Drama. First anniversary. Next big film.

5. 2022 - 2023 Privacy has been violated. Surprising reunion. Trial. Songs were written. Midnights. Halloween. Italy. Rumours. 'Cherish her'.

2023 Harry releases an album. Yn and Joe are not fans of it.

Harry's blurbs

2017 - first date

2020 - tolerate it - YN confronts Harry

2020 - champagne problems - everything has its end

2023 - Heartbreak Anniversary - Harry gets to know that YN's pregnant

Joseph's blurbs

to be posted

let's talk about it all requests are welcomed!

#action!universe #director!reader #harry styles x reader #joseph quinn x reader

[watermelonsugacry]

2022 Blurbs

HARRYCHELLA N.1

It's Harry’s first night performing for Coachella and he doesn't tell YN who his surprise guests are. (3.1k)

HARRYCHELLA N.2

It's Harry’s second night performing for Coachella and he finally reveals to YN who his surprise guest is. (2.5k)

Zane Lowe Interview

Interview bit where 1dbandmember!reader is mentioned.

Superior Guitarist

Harry's asked in a interview who's the better guitarist: Mitch or YN?

Liam’s Podcast

YN’s reaction to Liam’s unsavory comments about her.

Paps

How YN deals with rude paparazzi.

Family

There's a familiar face in the crowd of Harry's Love On Tour show in Dublin. (1.8k)

Amsterdam

Harry does what a fan's sign says.

It's A Classic

Harry and YN receive a nostalgic 1d shirt from fans.

Tits

YN distracts Harry while he's taking an ice bath with talking about a certain body part of his.

Before a Show

How Harry acts before one of YN's shows.

34+35

YN changes a certain word when performing on stage.

Medicine

Who is YN to deny her fans' demands to cover one of Harry’s unreleased songs?

Venice Film Festival

YN is Harry's date to the Don't Worry Darling premiere. (3k)

Or Is It?

YN says one of Harry's iconic phrases during her show.

Wasted Time

A morning with a love sick YN and Harry.

Cake

YN wants to take a bite out of Harry's bum.

Vows

A fan's sign at Harry's show catches the couple's attention.

YN LN: Same Interview, The Sixth Year | Vanity Fair

YN’s growth since she became a solo artist.

Summer Nights

Harry brings out his Sandy to sing with him for HARRYWEEN 2022.

Pink and Blue Forever

YN’s Instagram post for Fine Line's 3rd birthday.

Hot Ones

YN answers hot questions with even hotter wings.

Forevermore

After 12 years of knowing each other, YN and Harry finally tie the knot on their anniversary on England.

Waiting Room

YN’s One Night Only for her third album.

#1dbandmember!yn #watermelonsugacry's masterlist #since 2010 series

[pancakes4two]

ok here’s a little bit of dramaaaaa. sorry this isn’t the most cohesive blurb, it was hard to find good pics but hopefully you all enjoy regardless!

previous parts from this series can be found here!

yourinstagram

Liked by harrystyles, mitchrowland and 100 others

yourinstagram the making of fine line… not pictured are the countless all nighters pulled & redbulls consumed 😛

View all 12 comments

kidharpoon way too many redbulls

harrystyles Fine Line is actually an album about sun, sex, and energy drinks.

jefezoff Hi @ harrystyles never say that to the press ever, please and thanks.

harrysfinsta

Liked by yourfinsta, sarahsfinsta and 10 others

harrysfinsta What does it taste like?

View all 10 comments

yourfinsta 🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓 on a summer eveninnnnn

sarahsfinsta Beach bums

yourfinsta

Liked by harrysfinsta, yourbff, and 36 others

yourfinsta always great to have your man stolen by stevie nicks for a few minutes every couple of years!!! i used to play silver springs on my speaker all the time to try and curse him with a bit of stevie magic so it feels very full circle every time i watch them sing together 💗💗💗 🪄🪄🪄#onenightonly #whatwouldstevienicksdo

View all 9 comments

harrysfinsta I can’t believe you would openly admit that.

yourfinsta you could be my silver spring……. 🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶

harrysfinsta Closing my eyes and covering my ears now.

revealmoi

27,463 likes

View all 700 comments

deuxmoireader Harry Styles

harrystan1 ahhhh harry omg

harryfan2 if this is true love isn’t real wtf

harrystan3 honestly it probably is like fine line is such a sad album. i hope they’re both okay

yourinstagram i normally don’t like to comment on this stuff but it’s hard when your relationship is constantly scrutinized and analyzed under a microscope by so many people. h and i are okay. please remember that not every song he writes is from his own experience. hopefully we can all move on and appreciate the album for its storytelling and lyricism, instead of taking it at surface level to feed gossip headlines. love you all & thank you for caring, but rest assured we are all good! hope everyone is enjoying fine line ❤️

your finsta story:

yourinstagram

Liked by harrystyles, jefezoff and 200 others

yourinstagram i still remember the first time i realized h was going to be a star. our sophomore year, right after he first got his license, we were driving down the freeway coming back from school when all of a sudden we got caught in a thunderstorm. one of those where you don’t really notice it coming, but it rains like hell before stopping just as abruptly as it started. h pulled over at the side of the road and put in a mixtape while we waited for the storm to pass.

i remember sitting there in the car of the boy i was starting to fall in love with, listening to him sing gerry rafferty and fleetwood mac to me and just thinking in that moment that the whole world was going to know his name one day. & today he just won his first grammy.

it’s been such a privilege to love & support him through it all. an even greater privilege to be able to share his beautiful heart with the rest of the world. ❤️

View all 50 comments

yourinstagram sorry for being a sap. i’m not good with words either but i’m just so so so happy and proud!!!

jefezoff ❤️

harrystyles Couldn’t have done it without you.

yourmom Congratulations, H!!!!!!

#harry styles #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles imagine #harry styles social media #harry styles x y/n #harry eras