#Harry Imagines

[unabashegirl]

the cover | part 1

Y/N and Harry, lifelong best friends, pretend to be a couple for a family wedding weekend in Edinburgh. As they navigate the event, old feelings resurface, and what starts as an act turns into something real, leading them to confront their true emotions for one another.

Author's note: hello everyone! I hope you are doing great. I wanted to post The Cover on Tumblr BUT keep some EXCLUSIVENESS for my Patreon subscribers. So, I took some scenes out of the story while keep the plot intact. it is obviously going to be shorter here on Tumblr. However, the story still leads to the same thing. I hope you enjoy

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all of the one shot (+8K) and exclusive scenes, various one shots and much more :)

word count: 1.8K

The soft hum of the evening surrounded them as they sat on Harry’s couch, the warmth of the candles filling the air. His house, though spacious, had an intimate feel, with low lighting casting cozy shadows around the room. Harry sat beside Y/N, half-turned toward her, reading a book. The way he tucked his legs beneath him and the casualness of his white t-shirt gave the moment a softness that made Y/N's thoughts wander.

Y/N tried to focus on the book in her hands, something about leadership, but the words blurred as she kept glancing at Harry. His usual confidence and public persona seemed far away, replaced by a quiet charm. She couldn’t help but think back to the way things used to be before his rise to stardom—just the two of them, as friends.

And that’s what made it so hard now. Despite the easy conversations and long history they shared, Y/N was always reminded of the one-sided feelings she’d harbored for years. Sitting next to him now, she could feel the pull of those feelings, threatening to unravel her carefully constructed walls.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Harry asked, breaking the silence. His voice was low, filled with the same warmth and curiosity he always had when talking to her. “You’ve been staring at that page for a while now.”

Y/N laughed lightly, closing the book. “Just thinking about family stuff,” she said, dodging the real reason behind her distraction.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Family stuff?”

She sighed. “My cousin’s getting married soon, and they’re all pressuring me to bring a date.”

Harry leaned back, his expression softening. “You know you don’t have to do anything just to please them, right?”

“I know, but it’s hard when everyone expects you to show up with someone.” Y/N smiled weakly, shrugging. “It just makes me feel like I’m falling behind.”

For a moment, Harry just watched her, like he was considering something. Then, his voice cut through the silence again, casual but certain. “I’ll go with you.”

Y/N blinked, surprised. “What?”

He shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “I’ll be your date. that'll stop them from asking questions, right?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Harry being her date? Even just as a favor, the idea felt surreal. But his offer was sincere, and she could feel the tension easing from her shoulders at the thought of having him there with her.

“Are you sure?” she asked softly, trying to gauge if he really meant it.

“Of course,” he said with that familiar grin of his. “Who wouldn’t want to show up with me as their date?”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his teasing, her anxiety slowly melting away. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. With Harry at her side, it might actually be… fun.

“He’s going with you?!” Maddie’s voice echoed through the apartment, laced with disbelief.

Y/N, sitting cross-legged on the floor of her bedroom, groaned and called back, “I know!”

A moment later, Maddie appeared in the doorway, eyes wide. “Harry Styles—your best friend—is going to this wedding as your date? I mean, what?!”

Y/N let out a breathy laugh, flopping back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Trust me, I’m still trying to process it.”

Maddie crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Okay, first of all—this wedding is a whole weekend, right?”

“Yeah,” Y/N muttered, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. “We’re leaving Friday and staying until Sunday. So… two full days of family, dinners, receptions, small talk.”

“And does Harry know it’s a full weekend?” Maddie asked, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N bit her lip. “Not exactly…”

Maddie’s eyes widened even further. “Y/N, you have to tell him! What if he backs out once he realizes it’s not just a one-night thing?”

Y/N sighed, already feeling the weight of it. “I’ll tell him tomorrow. I just… I hope he doesn’t change his mind.”

Maddie smiled knowingly. “Well, you’ll need to distract yourself with something else for now—like your outfits!” She grinned. “You have to look incredible.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Maddie…”

The next day, Y/N stood outside Harry’s house, a small bouquet of flowers in hand. She smiled as she reached for the familiar key in her pocket—the one Harry had given her ages ago. She slid it into the lock, the soft click bringing her a sense of comfort. His place had always felt like a second home, sometimes even more than her own.

Walking inside, the familiar scent of fresh linen greeted her. She made her way to the kitchen and placed the flowers on the counter, searching for a vase. After arranging them, she admired the pop of color they brought to the space. It was something she liked to do whenever she visited—add a little warmth to the room.

“Harry?” she called out, already heading towards the hallway that led to his bedroom.

“Closet!” his voice echoed back, slightly muffled.

She stepped into his room, which looked as it always did—organized chaos. A mix of designer clothes and little pieces of Harry’s life were scattered around, but one thing stood out: his suitcase, open on the floor, already halfway packed.

He’s really going through with it, Y/N thought, excitement mixing with a flutter of nerves.

As she approached the closet, Harry emerged, fresh from the shower, casually drying his hair with a towel. His grin widened when he saw her. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

Y/N chuckled. “You’re already packing? You’re way ahead of me.”

“I figured I’d get a head start. I’ve got to be prepared for this weekend,” he teased, tossing the towel over his shoulder.

Y/N leaned against the doorway. “I haven’t even started yet. But you know, I might need help picking outfits. And I know you have opinions.”

Harry shot her a playful smirk. “You know I do.”

Despite the light banter, Y/N couldn’t shake the growing tension in her chest. She still hadn’t told him everything—the weekend wasn’t just a one-night affair. Clearing her throat, she said, “Harry, there’s something I forgot to mention about the wedding.”

His eyebrow raised, but his smile stayed. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Well… it’s not just the ceremony. It’s kind of a whole weekend event.”

Harry stopped mid-motion, the towel draped over his shoulders as he turned to face her fully. “A whole weekend?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, fidgeting slightly. “It’s in Edinburgh. There’s a dinner on Friday, the wedding on Saturday, and a brunch on Sunday. It’s like… a three-day thing.”

For a moment, Harry just stared at her, blinking. Then, with a chuckle, he said, “A full-on wedding, huh?”

Y/N let out a breath. “Yeah… I probably should’ve told you earlier. But I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Harry shook his head, his grin widening. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. A weekend in Edinburgh with you? Sounds fun.”

Relief flooded through Y/N. “You’re sure? I mean, it’s a lot.”

“I’m sure,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Besides, I think your family’s going to love me.” He winked, adding, “When do we leave?”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, her nerves fading. He really was in this with her, and suddenly, the weekend didn’t seem so intimidating.

Y/N and Harry sat cross-legged on the floor of his living room, plates of Indian takeout spread across the coffee table. The familiar aroma of curry and naan filled the room, while How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days played on the TV in the background. They had seen the movie so many times, but it never got old. Harry always laughed at the same moments, and Y/N couldn’t help teasing him for knowing the lines better than she did.

As Y/N scooped up a bite of butter chicken with her naan, she noticed Harry looking at her with a mischievous grin. “What’s that look for?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Harry leaned back against the couch, balancing his plate on his lap. “I was just thinking about the wedding.”

“Please don’t remind me,” Y/N groaned, shaking her head. “I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that you’re actually going.”

“Don’t worry, I’m still in,” Harry assured her, nudging her gently. “But I had a thought… Why don’t we drive to Edinburgh?”

Y/N blinked, lowering her fork. “Drive? From here to Edinburgh? That’s over eight hours.”

“Exactly!” Harry’s eyes lit up, like it was the best idea he’d ever had. “Think about it. If we drive, we’re in control. If things get awkward at the wedding, we’ll have a getaway car. No waiting for flights—we can just leave.”

Y/N gave him a skeptical look. “Planning an escape before we even get there?”

He shrugged, popping a piece of naan into his mouth. “It’s all about being prepared. Plus, think of the road trip! Snacks, music, random stops. Remember the last time we did a long drive?”

Y/N smiled at the memory. “Yeah, and you made us stop at every service station to try the food.”

Harry grinned even wider. “Exactly! Imagine all the snacks we could pack—crisps, chocolate, samosas. And the playlist—oh, the playlist! We’ll sing the whole way, windows down, no stress.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “You just want an excuse to sing loudly, don’t you?”

“Hey, I have great taste in road trip tunes,” he said, pretending to be offended. “And it would be fun! Eight hours, just us, no rush.”

She tilted her head, considering it. A carefree road trip with Harry did sound appealing, but the practical side of her had concerns. “Flying is faster. We’ll be there in two hours and won’t be exhausted when we arrive. We’ll need all the energy we can get for my family and the wedding.”

Harry pouted, leaning back against the couch. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Y/N looked over at him, smiling at his enthusiasm. There was something irresistible about the way his eyes sparkled at the idea.

“You know what?” she said after a beat. “Let’s do it. Let’s drive.”

Harry’s face lit up, his eyes wide with excitement. “Really? You mean it?”

Y/N nodded, her smile growing. “Yeah, why not? It could be fun. And having the car might come in handy if we need an escape—or if we just want to explore a bit.”

Harry practically beamed. “I can’t wait”.

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PART 2

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

Jellybean

summary: you are very pregnant and harry can't go a day without quality bump time.

word count: 1067

read time: 5 min

content warning ⚠️: pregnancy, fluffy fluff fluff

a/n: my brain is such an odd place. i saw this tik tok and my brain instantly came up with this haha because...harold absolutely would lol. Enjoy!

You’d been rolling around on your California king mattress for the better half of two hours now. You’ve rolled from your side to Harry’s rearranging the expensive pregnancy pillow that Harry had gotten you the day you found out you were pregnant, and still nothing seemed to get you comfortable. 

Part of it was your bundle of joy, nestled warmly in your womb having a block party for one. But mainly you were just frustrated, and on top of that sleep deprived and, so heavily pregnant. You were about ready to pop any second, and yet your lovely, attentive husband was on the other side of the world, working. And worse of all, you hadn’t spoken to him all day, besides your daily “Good Morning, Lovie” text.  In all your time together with Harry,  it never bothered you. The traveling, or the fact that you’d go all day without hearing from him. He was a busy man, and a hard worker, it’s part of the reason you fell so hard for him, and married him. 

But with the pregnancy hormones, and the fact that the princess treatment that you’d become accustomed to getting from your doting husband over the last few months has been missing in his absence the last few days, it was taking a bit of a toll on you. 

So when your phone buzzed later that night with a text from Harry you couldn’t help the happy and frustrated tears that welled up in your eyes. And when you saw that adorable contact photo of him pop up on your screen with an incoming call, well you started bawling. You answer the phone and instantly your bad mood dissipates when you hear the smooth honey sound of Harry’s drowsy bedtime voice. 

“Hey, Lovie.” Harry coos into the phone.

“Hey, you” you sigh, trying your best to put on a smile, but you’re not very convincing. It only makes Harry crack a smile. He hates how uncomfortable you’ve been the last months, but he can practically hear your adorable pout through the phone and it makes his heart go all fuzzy. 

“How long have you been trying to sleep?”

“Hours!” you whine, slightly dramatic, “They really are your kid, you know? Just bouncing off the walls, when all I want to do is sleep.” You grumble and can hear him chuckle over the phone. “Harry, I’m serious! I feel like I haven't slept in days. If they’re not tap dancing on my bladder, they’re doing somersaults off my ribs.”  

“I’m sorry, baby. I don’t mean to laugh. I’m sorry you're uncomfortable, and I hate not being there to help. Do you have the pillow? Is it helping any?” 

“Yeah, but everytime I think I’m comfortable, Jellybean has other plans.” you chuckle slightly, taking a breath and looking down at your bump, bottom lip going wobbly, “I just want him here, already.” You sigh, whipping a tear that slipped despite your best efforts. “And you, too. I missed you today.” 

Hearing your voice crack with sadness, it was like something grabbed at his heart and twisted it. He hated, despised, being away from you. Especially now that you were so close to welcoming your first baby. But it was ‘unavoidable’ according to everyone he spoke to while he tried to keep the meetings to Zoom. So there he was, halfway across the world while his beautiful, very pregnant, and sleep deprived wife cried to him over the phone. He felt like the world's worst husband, and he hated it. 

But he had to remind himself that you and your baby on the way were what he was doing all the work for in the first place. And in nearly 24 hours, he’ll be right back in your arms, cradling your bump and kissing your plump cheeks. 

“Aww, baby I missed you too. But just think, this time tomorrow I’ll be right there with you. And we’ll be holding our Jellybean in just a few more weeks, yeah?” he lulled. 

“I know…but you know how impatient I am.” you laugh, and he does too. 

“Oh, trust me I do.” he chuckles, remembering all the subtle ‘hints’ you dropped in the years leading up to your engagement. He takes a moment and remembers that there is one person he hasn’t spoken to since he went out of town, “Do me a favor, Lovie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Put me on speaker, and put me next to your belly. I wanna talk to Jellybean. Set ‘em straight so mama can get some rest.” you laugh loudly into the phone and he smiles, “I’m serious, let me speak to ‘em. They listen to me.” You can’t help but smile, because it’s very true. Your bundle of joy hasn’t even arrived yet, and it seemed the two had already formed a little alliance between them. 

“Alright,” you sigh before hitting the speaker button, “there, you're on speaker.” 

“Okay put me on your belly.” 

“Done.” you chuckle, rolling your eyes. 

“Hey, Jellybean,” Harry coos, and your heart warms at the sound. Your eyes begin to water when you feel your baby, seemingly to respond to his voice. “Your mama told me you're giving her a hard time. I thought we talked about this before I left, hm? It’s late and you both need to sleep. Okay?” Harry stops talking for a second, as if he can hear the little kicks to the speaker. “I know, you want out, but you’ve got a few more weeks. We are as excited as you are. But your mama is too pretty and needs her beauty rest, so let her sleep, and you rest too, okay bubs?” He hears you laugh, and he feels better knowing that even though you're so uncomfortable he’s able to put a smile on your face. “Now hand the phone back to your mother.” 

“Thank you for that,” you chuckle, “They’ve  actually calmed down a bit. May actually get a few hours in.” 

“That’s good. Told you, they listen to me.” 

“Yeah, something tells me that that’s going to be an issue when they’re here.” you laugh running a hand over your bump. “Just gonna be you two ganging up on me.” 

“Maybe.” he chuckles, “Well, I’ll let you sleep while you can, alright?” 

“Okay. I’ll try. I love you.” you yawn, already feeling sleep creep up on you. 

“Love you too baby. Goodnight.” 

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[bad1dimagines]

gotta make sure u have the dslr to document

[justlemmeadoreyou]

in sickness and in health

Summary: Harry takes care of y/n while she's sick.

Words: 1,000+

Warnings: Mostly fluff!

Y/N groaned as she slowly blinked her eyes open, her head pounding and her throat feeling raw and scratchy. She reached for the box of tissues on her nightstand, wincing at the movement. As she blew her nose, the bedroom door creaked open.

"Morning, love," came Harry's soft voice. He padded in, a tray laden with toast, orange juice, and a steaming mug of tea balanced carefully in his hands. "Brought you some breakfast."

"Harry..." Y/N croaked out, her voice little more than a whisper. "You didn't have to do that."

He shook his head, setting the tray down on the nightstand. "Of course I did. You're sick as a dog, babe." Harry perched on the edge of the bed, his hand coming up to brush her sweat-damp hair back from her forehead. "Looks like that nasty flu is really doing a number on you."

Y/N managed a weak smile, nuzzling into his touch. "I feel horrible."

"I know, sweetheart." Harry's thumb stroked her flushed cheek tenderly. "But I'm going to take care of you, okay? We'll get you feeling better in no time."

Leaning down, he pressed a lingering kiss to her clammy forehead before reaching for the mug of tea. "Here, drink some of this. The honey should help soothe your throat."

Y/N took a careful sip, the warm liquid coating her raw throat. She sighed in relief. "That's nice. Thank you, Haz."

"Of course, my love." Harry picked up a piece of dry toast from the tray. "Think you can manage a few bites? You need to keep your strength up."

Obediently, Y/N nibbled on the toast as Harry fussed over plumping up her pillows and layering an extra blanket over her shivering form. He clucked his tongue sympathetically at her pale, clammy appearance.

"I've got some cold medicine for you to take too. That should help with the aches and chills."

True to his word, Harry retrieved a dose of flu medication, holding it out along with a glass of cool water. Y/N swallowed it down gratefully.

"Such a good girl," Harry praised, stroking her hair again. "Now, I want you to try and get some more rest, okay? I'll be just down the hall if you need anything at all."

Y/N caught his hand as he made to stand. "Wait... Could you stay with me for a bit?"

Harry's eyes softened. "Of course, darling. Budge over." 

He slid under the covers, gathering Y/N's shivering form into his arms. She burrowed against his chest, breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne and letting it soothe her frazzled senses.

Harry pressed a kiss to her hair, rubbing her back soothingly. "Just relax and rest up, okay? I'm right here."

Y/N nodded, allowing her eyes to drift shut. She felt so safe and cared for wrapped in Harry's embrace. Despite feeling utterly miserable from her illness, having him there to look after her made it so much better.

Several hours later, she awoke feeling marginally less feverish - though her head was still pounding. Harry stirred beside her, ever attentive.

"Hey there, sleeping beauty," he murmured. "How are you feeling?"

Y/N sniffled pitifully. "A little better, I think. But my head is killing me."

"Hang on, let me get you a cool cloth for your forehead." In a flash, Harry was out of bed and heading for the en-suite bathroom.

He returned with a damp washcloth, gently draping it over Y/N's feverish brow. She sighed in relief at the delicious coolness against her pounding head.

"Thank you, baby. That feels heavenly."

Harry smiled, tenderly brushing her hair back. "I love taking care of my best girl. Are you hungry at all? I could whip up some chicken soup."

At the thought of food, Y/N's stomach roiled queasily. "Maybe just some more tea and dry toast for now?"

"You got it." Harry leaned in, dropping a featherlight kiss on her chapped lips. "I'll be right back with your tea, sweet thing."

True to his word, Harry returned a few minutes later with a fresh mug of piping hot tea and a couple pieces of dry buttered toast. He helped Y/N sit up against the mountain of pillows before passing her the mug.

"Careful, it's hot," he cautioned unnecessarily.

Y/N rolled her eyes fondly. "Yes, Dad."

Harry chuckled, taking a seat next to her on the bed and offering her a piece of toast. As she picked at the bread, he pulled her feet into his lap, gently massaging the soles.

"Mmm," Y/N hummed in appreciation. "You're too good to me."

"Nonsense. I'm just being a good boyfriend and taking care of my girl when she needs me." Harry winked playfully. "Afterall, I'll need you to return the favor when I inevitably catch this flu from you."

Y/N laughed weakly. "Deal."

For the rest of the day, Harry fussed over Y/N - keeping her hydrated, fetching her books and magazines to read, and just sitting by her side with his arms wrapped securely around her. She couldn't have asked for a better nurse.

As evening fell, Harry brought Y/N a fresh mug of hot tea, laced with honey and lemon. "Here, drink up. Should help that scratchy throat of yours."

"You're too good to me," Y/N said again, cradling the mug gratefully.

Harry shook his head seriously. "Never. You deserve the world, my love." He leaned in, kissing her forehead tenderly. "I'm just trying to give it to you."

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[harrieatthemet]

Birthday

In which Harry has to have the last word... and a better present.

"There's my girl," he sings, a wide smile expeditiously appearing on his face, "my birthday girl."

Her smile is shy, which is ironic considering her outfit is lathered so dramatically in bright colors it could singlehandedly blind anyone within a 5 mile radius. Nonetheless though she skips over to Harry, wrapping her arms around his leg best she can.

Despite the animosity between the two of you and the not-so-subtle hard feelings, there's no fighting the smirk that creeps up on you when she squeals in amusement. Harry's got her in a cradle now, swinging her back and forth before sitting her on his hip. Their bond is so special and he's so effortlessly good with her. You almost forget how you were fighting the urge to throw a handful of plastic spoons at him under a minute ago.

"Can't believe you're turning fifty seven," he teases, "you're a little old lady!"

"M'turning five," she giggles, "still a baby!"

"What!" his dramatized gasp pulls a belly laugh right out of her, "mumma, is this th'tallest baby you've ever seen?!"

Your nod in agreement is emphatic as you pair it with a pretend shocked gasp, which only makes her laugh harder. She's squealing once Harry starts tickling under her chin; writhing sporadically in her spot on his hip as she's got nowhere to run to seek refuge. But eventually he relinquishes his grip after she begs for mercy, setting her back down on the floor before sending her off to check if any guests had began to trickle in.

On the counter he's placed two bags; both generously filled and near overflowing. His grip was so tight on the handles earlier he may have even lost feeling in his knuckles halfway on the walk to the front of the house.

"Did you get the candles?"

Now he's definitely lost feeling in his knuckles but not from carrying cheap plastic, but more-so because he's barely been 10 minutes in the house and you're already needling him.

"Candles?" his words come out in an annoyed exhale, "Y'never asked me about candles, (Y/N). If y'asked, I would've got them."

If he wasn't so well accustomed to the sound of it, he'd almost miss your exasperated groan as he started unpacking the shopping bags onto the kitchen counter.

It's obvious you're in a mood. He can tell by the tenseness in your stature and how frenetic you're moving around the kitchen island. Had you greeted him with a little more cordiality, he'd have complimented your over-achieving decoration execution. The house, inside and out, really looked beautiful.

"I did," you huff before undoing a package of paper napkins, "I asked you twice. Don't do that, Harry."

"Do what?"

"Berate me," you snap, "or tell me I didn't do something I know I did."

He throws his head back and lets out a long breath, "Y'don't even talk t'me on a good day, and now you're telling me y'asked me for candles? Like I'd forget candles for m'daughters birthday."

"Wouldn't be the first time you forgot something important."

"Oh fuck you f'that, really," you've managed to get him riled up in record time - a whopping 3 and a half minutes, "bloody unbelievable, you are, y'know?"

"Oh I am? Me - unbelievable?"

"I walk in and immediately it's th'bitching and the-"

Honestly he could drag on and on if time permitted. Once he gets going he finds it hard to bring it to a full stop. And usually, these arguments tend to get drawn out for that exact reason. He's promptly interrupted though when he hears a soft clicking of shoes and a familiar little voice roam in from the kitchen archway.

There's no need for him to turn around to see who it is. And she knows better by now than to say anything. Since the fighting initially became a household staple she's gotten pretty skilled in hallway loitering and incognito eavesdropping. How much she's already heard is unclear, but he's gonna table the conversation for now and act like it never happened. So are you.

"My friends are here!"

Sometimes it feels kind of like having an entirely separate identity. You often find yourself wondering if Harry ever feels the same way. When angel baby is around, it's kind of like switching off a light or getting caught doing something you shouldn't be. Because when she spawns in the room mid-argument, the energy shifts and you find yourself smiling a little too hard and over-compensating a bit too much.

And when she leaves, it's right back to the regular scheduled programming. You don't remember exactly when the turning point was that resulted in this; neither of you being able to stomach looking at the other, constantly arguing, going jab for jab, saying the worst thing that comes to mind out of spite or with the goal of tearing each other down.

"Not done talking about this," it's just like Harry to try and have the last word as he follows angel baby out of the room, "can y'table it for her birthday? Can y'manage that?"

It was an intentionally halfway-out-of-the-room delivered line, largely so you'd have no time to quip back at him with a snide comment or off-color remark. Because as soon as you follow him out to say something in rebuttal, you're stepping into an influx of people holding different-sized gifts in the middle of the front entrance.

It's almost like he's challenging you. Of course you can table it.

At least, you thought you could table it.

It's so irritating how easy it is for him to compartmentalize. It doesn't phase him at all that you were at each other's throats earlier. At least that's how it comes across in the way he seamlessly works the room; all cool and convivial with the inviting hugs and enthusiastic small talk. More likely than not, he's carved out 5 minutes for each guest tenfold. Whether it's an act or not, it really gets under your skin.

"Here petal," Harry encourages eagerly, handing an oversized professionally wrapped gift, "s'from me."

She's sat in an awkwardly shaped circle alongside a couple friends from school, giggling as Harry places the box in front of her. Her eyes light up merely at the size of it. The box itself is almost as tall as she is, and what 5 year old wouldn't gawk at a lavish gift that towers over them when sitting down. It was arguably the most predictable move right out of the 'separated parents' playbook.

"Had to get the biggest one, right?"

Beside you he stands, phone up to record as he watches angel baby rip the once perfect wrapping paper completely to pieces. For a second you think he doesn't hear you. In fact, he doesn't even bat an eye at the remark you just made beneath your breath.

"S'a birthday gift... fo' her birthday," and he says it through gritted teeth and a pompous smile, "but g'on and make it about you, if you'd like."

"Think you've got that bit covered," you nod slowly in rhetoric in attempt to depict this conversation as passive, "you know, trying to outdo me with a splashy gift and all."

Unbeknownst to you, angel baby's eyes are training your lips with every word that falls from them. Stood in a box in front of her is the set outdoor doll house she'd been pining for as of late. And she doesn't seem to care. She pays no attention to it at all, even when the chorus of ooing and ahhing erupts from her intimate circle of friends and their parents. The facade of casual conversation between you and Harry has completely vacated, it's obvious in how the bickering has become more hushed and the vein on Harry's forehead begun peeking out.

You're fighting on her birthday and she's noticed. The topic that's gotten you both so hot is a mystery to her, but that doesn't keep her from trying to conjure up an answer. Even right now she's thinking about it, as Anne places a beautifully decorated sheet cake down in front of her at the patio table. The number 5 stands firmly in the middle, romantically adorned by sporadically placed individual flames dancing all around it as everyone sings happy birthday off key.

"Ok lovie," Harry cheers, "g'head 'n make a big wish!"

Both of her hands press flatly on the table, propping her up a good amount as she teeters on her chair so that she's appropriately hovering over the cake. Leaning in to grab a photo, she smiles sweetly before closing her eyes. If she's gonna make a birthday wish, she wants it to be good. She wants it to actually come true.

"I wish," and she pauses to adjust the flower crown that's lopsided on her head, "that mommy and daddy didn't hate each other."

When the words spill from her lips before she leans in to blow out her candles, your complexion goes ghost-white. And Harry thinks he might be sick.

[mulledcherrywine]

Summer in Italy - IG Concept

summary: y/n is a florist from London, with a very small following and spends a summer in Italy with harry 🤭

this is my first ig concept so any feedback/kind words is vv appreciated 🫶🫶

23,967 likes

harryflorals Harry and y/n in Italy earlier today!

View all 732 comments

harrystan100 OH ?

harrysleftshoe the way i called this two weeks ago when they were first spotted-

watermelonsugarpaper she’s too cool for him

adoreyouuuharry do y’all just hate this man or what?

harryedwards00 why r u acting like yk her

harrystan88 fr !!

Liked by lizzobeeating and 615 others

yourinstagram brb i’m cancelling my flight home

View all 10 comments

yourbestfriend Y/NNNN. COME HOME. I MISS U.

yourinstagram i miss u too ma cherie :,)

mitchrowland glad to see my diagram struck a chord with you.

yourinstagram ur just so wise, mitchell

harrystyles you make it so much sunnier here

harrystyles i love youuuuuu

yourinstagram i love you moreeeee

Liked by lookitsnyoh and 1,686,901 others

harrystyles Venice. 2023.

View all 10,857 comments

paulithepsm 💜

harrysscherries FUCK

harrystan1001 ☠️☠️

medicineharry so real

harry_lambert my favourite barbie and ken dolls to dress up ✨💗🌈

10,439 likes

harryflorals More of Harry and Y/n in Italy last night!

View all 854 comments

harrystannn i can’t do this today harryflorals

dontyoucallhimbaby i love them idc

watermelonhighhh right ? ppl are so negative

harrysshousee oh he’s marrying her 100%

[thereceptioniststyles]

Stolen Glances

Harry.

His name echoed in my mind, a constant presence that refused to let me sleep. I was consumed by an insatiable curiosity about him. When would our paths cross? What did he really look like? Did he possess the necessary skills to excel as a receptionist? These questions may have seemed trivial, but little did I know that Harry would become the catalyst for the destruction of my entire existence.

The days crawled by, each one dripping with mounting anticipation. I found it nearly impossible to concentrate, the mere thought of his imminent arrival sending shivers down my spine. And yet, fate had a cruel twist in store for me. Our meeting would not unfold as I had envisioned. No, it would be the other way around.

I parked my car on the desolate street, my hands trembling as I rummaged through my purse in search of my employee badge. The frigid air bit at my fingers, numbing them to the bone, making it a challenge to locate the badge amidst the chaos within my bag. After what felt like an eternity, I finally grasped it, only to have my nerves intensify as I hastened my pace down the pavement. The weight of the unknown bearing down on me.

I arrived at the entrance of the imposing building, the echo of my footsteps drowned out by the sound of my racing heart. With a trembling hand, I swiped my ID card, granting myself access to the enigmatic realm that awaited me. As I stepped inside, my eyes were immediately drawn to the reception desk where two girls engaged in animated conversation, their attention seemingly fixated on a phone call, undoubtedly scheduling an appointment. And then, it happened. Our gazes collided. Him.

Harry was nothing like the image I had constructed in my mind. In my fantasies, he was a polished intellectual, a charming nerd of sorts. But reality shattered my illusions. I stood there, rooted to the spot, utterly stupefied. Callie had not been exaggerating when she spoke of his attractiveness.

He was breathtaking. His dark hair cascaded in gentle waves, as though meticulously crafted to caress his forehead with effortless grace. His eyes, oh those piercing green eyes, possessed an intensity that could penetrate the very walls of my soul. His skin, concealed beneath a rolled-up button-down shirt, hinted at a fair complexion tinged with a subtle tan. And there, just beneath the cuff, tantalizing glimpses of inked artistry teased my hungry eyes.

My heart threatened to burst through my ribcage, its erratic beats echoing in my ears like a war drum. I prayed fervently that he hadn't caught me in the act of staring, my gaze fixated on him like a moth drawn to a flame. With trembling hands, I gathered my belongings, desperate to appear composed as I scurried towards my desk. I cast my eyes downward, then upward, anywhere but in his direction. I struggled to regain my focus, but it was an uphill battle. The world around me seemed to freeze, time grinding to a halt while my palms grew clammy with nervous perspiration.

As clients checked out and appointments were booked, I threw myself into the tasks at hand, a whirlwind of activity to distract myself from the magnetic pull of Harry's presence. I rushed to answer the phone, offering assistance to the person on the other end of the line. I did everything in my power to keep my hands and mind occupied, until I reached a point where distraction was futile.

One girl was engrossed in a phone call, another on her lunch break, and suddenly it was just Harry and me. I stole glances in his direction, catching glimpses of him, absorbed in learning the intricacies of the computer system. I could feel his eyes on me too, a magnetic connection that sent shivers down my spine. I silently thanked myself for taking the extra time to primp and preen, unwilling to appear anything less than presentable in his presence. After all, a guy like him, he was practically divine.

Suddenly, a voice shattered the cacophony of conflicting thoughts that had been swirling in my mind. The sound of his chair wheels sliding across the floor reverberated through the air, drawing my attention towards him.

"Hi," Harry's voice was a soft whisper, sending an electric current coursing through my veins. "I'm Harry."

In those few words, I felt a primal surge of wildness coursing through my being. It was as if my very essence had been awakened, ready to unleash an untamed, feral side of myself that I never knew existed.

The desire coursing through my veins was insatiable, an all-consuming fire that threatened to consume me whole. I longed to tear through any obstacle that stood between us, to claw my way to him and feel the strength of his arms, hidden beneath those rolled-up sleeves. My heart yearned to devote itself entirely to him, to become a willing sacrifice at the altar of his presence. In that moment, he was a god, and I was but a mere mortal, ready to surrender myself to his whims.

I nodded, my head barely moving, as if I were in a trance. I paused, gathering my thoughts for a fleeting moment, before slowly lifting my gaze to meet his. His emerald eyes bore into the depths of my soul, capturing my very essence in their hypnotic gaze.

"I'm Ayla," I whispered, my voice barely audible. I kept my introduction brief, fully aware of the potential to make a complete fool of myself. I had to tread carefully, to consider my every word and action in his presence.

A smile played at the corners of his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he extended his hand towards me, an invitation for a handshake. My hand trembled as it found its place within his, our palms meeting in a delicate clasp. A surge of electricity surged through me, setting my entire body ablaze.

"So, do you enjoy this job?" Harry inquired, his voice laced with genuine curiosity and a thick British accent. I nodded, a silent affirmation of my satisfaction.

"Yeah, it's fun. It has its ups and downs, but then again, what job doesn't?" I replied, attempting to maintain composure despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me.

Our eyes remained locked, an unspoken connection forming between us, until our manager emerged from her office, interrupting the charged atmosphere. She was a stern, no-nonsense woman who commanded respect with every stride. Her presence was a stark contrast to the intoxicating aura that surrounded Harry.

"Ah, Harry," our manager's voice cut through the air, her tone businesslike yet friendly. "I see you've met Ayla, one of our valued team members."

Harry released my hand, reluctantly breaking our connection, and turned towards our manager. "Yes, we just had a very brief introduction," he replied, his voice betraying a hint of warmth.

"Well, Ayla," our manager addressed me, her gaze piercing. "I trust you'll show Harry the ropes and ensure he settles in smoothly."

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest as I absorbed the weight of her words. Showing Harry the ropes meant spending more time with him, delving deeper into the enchanting allure he exuded. It was an opportunity I simultaneously craved and feared.

"Of course," I managed to say, my voice steady despite the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

"Ayla," she declared with a commanding tone, her voice cutting through the air like a sharp blade. "Step into my office. I have a question."

I rose swiftly from my desk, relief washing over me like a cool, soothing wave. She had come to my rescue, sparing me from the torment of prolonging the conversation with him. It wasn't right for me to entertain such thoughts, especially when I had a devoted boyfriend. Though our demanding schedules kept us apart, Beck and I had been together for nearly two years, and the last thing I needed was to be consumed by thoughts of another man who seemed out of my league.

I obediently followed Callie into her office, the heavy door clicking shut behind us. She pivoted to face me, her eyes piercing into mine, as she settled into the chair across from me.

"So," she began, her voice dripping with caution and concern, "Harry is undeniably attractive, and it's no secret that everyone finds him so. But you and Harry? That's a dangerous path, Ayla. I know you have a boyfriend, but life has a way of throwing unexpected curveballs, doesn't it? Focus on your work, stay grounded, and you'll be just fine. Besides, Harry, well, he's considerably older than you, isn't he?"

I nodded, though deep inside, I was engulfed in a sea of uncertainty. How could she draw such conclusions from a mere introduction and a brief handshake? It was unprofessional of her to pry into my personal affairs, but there was a grain of truth in her words. I had Beck, my pillar of support, the one who stood by my side.

All Parts

[twostepstyless]

This is Harry on holiday with his Mrs. It’s the first big trip you guys have went on together that’s just dedicated to spending days wandering round being tourists with no time constraints. Exploring areas off the beaten track with your hands always loosely intertwined. This one photo is from after dinner one night, you exit the restaurant with Harry in front of you as you stop to take a quick photo of Harry’s back wandering round the almost deserted street given the late hour and almost every other place has pulled their shutters down for the night. Harry doesn’t take too many steps away from you though, when he realises the hand he’s been so used to have holding yours is left empty when he’s reaching back towards you. Quickly turning round he sees you with your phone up and quickly poses for you before his hand is back out reaching for yours. Handing him your phone to quickly put away in his bag you’re latching back onto his hand with a giggle before lazily strolling back to where you’re staying on this portion of your trip, excited for another day of holiday bliss tomorrow.

[dracowars]

Hi can I request a Harry Potter x Gryffindor reader where they’re actually the best of friends and she has liked him for years but she lost hope because it’s like he never sees her y’know? so when Harry starts to pursue Cho ( or someone else it’s up to you) , she decided that it’s time for her to move on but when Harry saw her getting close to someone else he just got really jealous and confess that he actually like her too, he just doesn’t want to ruin their friendship if it doesn’t work out? thanks!

i would | harry potter

pairing: harry x gryffindor!reader, harry x cho, neville x reader (platonic)

word count: 1,8k

summary: where harry is in love with y/n but doesn't want to destroy their friendship

a/n: all of my exams are finally over and i already know some of the results (i passed!!) i can't wait to get back into writing, hope you enjoy what i came up with here <3

warnings: angst, cursing

universe: harry potter

A sharp pain shoots through your heart at the words you just heard, but you immediately cover it up by forcing a smile onto your lips. But the way Harry looks at her in that moment, the way he admires her while she has the happiest expression on her face, makes it really difficult for you to pull yourself together.

Harry and you have been best friends ever since your first year in Hogwarts. You were always by each other's side, never leaving the other alone, supporting each other whenever you could. But being this close over several years turned your feelings into something that you should definitely not feel towards your supposedly best friend. You never wanted to admit it but you had to accept the truth. That is, that you are terribly in love with Harry Potter.

And Harry Potter is terribly in love with Cho Chang, the girl he just asked out on a date right in front of you.

This is his moment and you should not be the one to destroy it, especially not because you have some unaddressed and hidden feelings for your best friend. But it takes all of your strength to not intervene in their conversation, trying to support your friend by staying back.

You knew that this moment would come someday. That he would move on. That you would not have confessed your feelings and he would fall in love with another girl, leaving you behind with feelings you should not feel. Cho Chang seems to be this very lucky girl and by what you can observe, she is definitely head over heels for Harry.

And since you have lost all hope - he never saw you in that light anyway - you decide to be happy for him. If someone in this goddamn world deserves to be happy, it is Harry.

But you also know that you need to take care of yourself and need to sort out your feelings in order to finally let him go. So that you are finally able to move on. Without him by your side.

════════════

The door of the greenhouse falls close behind you while you are greeted with the fresh but cold air of another wintery day. The landscape is burried beneath a white blanket, small snowflakes falling from the clouds above you. You take a moment to look up into the sky, the sun peeking through the clouds, warming your skin.

Closing your eyes, you sigh deeply at the pictures that appear in front of you. How Harry and Cho sit in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop in Hogsmeade, laughing and joking with each other while you stand across the street, watching them through the window.

Pulling your scarf tighter around your neck, you shake off the painful memories and take a few steps towards the castle when you feel a presence nearby, stopping you in your tracks. The next second, Harry stands in front of you, coming from within the building as it appears.

"I was searching for you everywhere!", Harry exclaims, giving you a small and awkward hug as a greeting. The smile he gives you melts your heart but it only takes a few moments until it suddenly vanishes from his lips, his dull eyes meeting yours after realizing where you were coming from. "So, you were with Neville again?"

His question throws you off. You were expecting him to tell you all about Cho and how wonderful and beautiful and just over all amazing she is. But here he is, asking you about Neville Longbottom.

"Yes, we had to finish some work for Professor Sprout and we work faster together", you answer his question truthfully, looking at him to observe any kind of reaction, even though you are not even sure what you wish to see.

"You are.. spending a lot of time with him recently", Harry says, almost whispering, as he puts on a smile that is clearly not real and would maybe fool some people, but most definitely not his best friend.

"I am. We get along really well, I like Neville", you reply, shrugging as you are not entirely sure where this conversation is going. Harry is behaving really really weird but you can't put your finger on it. At the end of your sentence, you notice how his eyes widen for a moment before he apparently regains his posture, clearing his throat.

"Where is Cho anyway?", you beat him to saying the next words, looking at him expectantly. What you did not expect, however, is for his whole body to suddenly slump together, his eyes dripping with sadness.

"It's over. Me and her, it didn't work", Harry utters under his breath, avoiding eye contact with you as he pinches the skin on his fingers.

"W-What? But you.. you looked so happy around her. God, I'm so sorry to hear that Harry", you say quietly, genuinely feeling bad for him. You are actually shocked. After seeing them together, always all over each other, you thought they would get married one day. They seemed so into each other and whenever you saw them, it felt like they were inseparable, adored the other the most. Harry did, that you know, but right now you are not so sure if Cho actually ever felt the same way he did.

"It's fine. It's not your fault, we are just not meant for each other apparently", Harry mentions and it makes you think that he is not really believing his own words. He seems genuinely heartbroken and overall sad. And you hate yourself for feeling that small inkling of hope inside of you, realizing that what you feel for him is not yet completely doomed. However, you want to slap yourself for thinking about this when Harry is obviously feeling miserable and needs his best friend to cheer him up, not his best friend who has hidden feelings for him that he does not know about.

"I- I don't even know what to say, Harry. Are you alright?", you ask, immediately regretting your question. Of course he is not alright after the love of his life rejected him.

"I'm just a bit.. confused. I thought everything was going well between us and then she says these things about me not being genuine about my feelings and then she goes on, saying I'm only ever talking about you and I don't even know what she means by that. Of course I talk about you a lot, you are my best friend, right? Why would I not talk about you?", Harry bursts out, all the emotions flowing out of him and into his words. However, you are not sure if you heard him correctly. "And-"

"Wait, wait. She said you are talking about me too much?", you ask, a bit irritated as well while you cannot ignore the butterflies fluttering inside your stomach at these words. He is constantly talking about you. Harry, the boy you love unconditionally, talks about you. And according to Cho Chang, he does that a lot. It takes a moment for you to realize that he is obviously only talking about you on a platonic basis, as his best friend and not his lover.

"Yeah. Is that.. wrong?", Harry asks you back, a questioning look on his face as his eyes switch between yours in search of an answer.

"N-No. I mean, Neville and I talked about you as well just now. But is Cho really that jealous of me?", you let out a small laugh, not really meaning it. But when Harry does not laugh with you, you immediately stop. "She is not, right?"

"Well, I don't really know what to think anymore. She said I'm not genuine about my true feelings because she feels like I'm in love with you, according to how often I talk about you or the way I apparently look at you", he answers, a clear uncertainty in his voice that he tries to hide nevertheless.

It is in that moment that you know that Cho is right. Harry does talk to you and about you a lot, probably not like other best friends do. He certainly does not talk about Hermione this often. And the way he looks at you is different from how he looks at Cho, but you always thought it was because she is the one. Not because you may be the one who is receiving all his affection.

"Y/N? Did I say something wrong?", Harry pulls you out of your thoughts after you zoomed out, trying to collect and order your thoughts. No, it can't be. Cho can't be right about his feelings. Or can she?

"Is it true?", is all you can ask. "What she said, is it true?"

"What? Y/N, are you-"

"I need to know, Harry. I haven't realized it before but now that you say it.. Isn't there the small possibility of her being correct?" You do not even know where all of this is coming from all of a sudden, but this feeling of hope inside of you takes full control over you and you cannot even stop the words from coming out.

"I- I don't know what you want me to say", Harry exclaims, desperation lacing his words. "I didn't think about her words too much. I thought she only searched for a reason to end things.. You are my best friend, Y/N. I can't-"

"Would that be so bad? Would it be so bad if we actually could?", you ask, directly looking at him. You said it and now you cannot take back your words. You just kind of displayed your feelings for your best friend out in the open and now he has all the power over you.

"Y/N.. I don't.. What about our friendship?", Harry says and this is all it takes for you to take the last and final step.

"So you would?"

"I- Of course I would! But we are best friends since first year, Y/N. I don't want to destroy everything we built up, everything we accomplished so far. You know, I think I always felt more for you than friends should but I- I can't let this come between us. I don't want it to come between-"

When your lips touch his in a soft kiss, he finally shuts up after confessing his feelings for you and the kiss is all it takes for all the worries and bad thoughts to disappear. There is only him and you, finally together. Harry slowly deepens the kiss and if you would not know better, you would think his life depends on it. The way he looks at you after breaking the kiss makes your knees weak.

"I would, too", you say, connecting your lips once more.

[eternalsunshinehs]

this is professor!harry

[unabashegirl]

Fragments — one shot

Harry runs into Y/N in Japan. She is his ex and she is seeking closure.

Author's note: Hello everyone, I hope you are all doing well. Here is this week's one shot! I hope you enjoy it. LOTS OF ANGST! The second part will get posted tomorrow.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all chapters, various one shots and much more :)

Please note that everything that is both underlined and italicized is from the past—they are flashbacks!

word count 3.9K

----------------------------------------

As the sun began its descent in the late afternoon sky, Shiba Park in Tokyo was bathed in a gentle, golden light. The cherry blossoms, just beginning to bloom, added a delicate touch of pink to the scene, signaling the early days of spring. The air was crisp but not cold, filled with the subtle fragrance of blooming flowers and fresh grass.

Harry Styles, hoping to escape the relentless pace of his life, walked through the park with a coffee in hand. Dressed casually, he blended in with the locals, his trademark curls tucked under a beanie and his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. The sounds of children playing, birds chirping, and the distant hum of the city created a peaceful backdrop.

As Harry roamed along the winding paths, taking in the serene beauty of the park, his attention was drawn to a familiar figure sitting on the grass. It was Y/N, his ex-girlfriend, enjoying a solitary picnic. A blanket was spread out before her, adorned with an assortment of snacks and a book lying open beside her. She seemed lost in her own world, her face relaxed and serene.

Two years had passed since their breakup, a period marked by unresolved tensions and painful memories. Seeing Y/N unexpectedly stirred a mix of emotions within Harry. He paused, torn between the urge to approach and the instinct to keep his distance. The years apart had softened some of the bitterness, but the wounds were still there, just beneath the surface.

Y/N, sensing someone's gaze, looked up and their eyes met. For a moment, time stood still. The park faded away, and all that existed was the shared history and unspoken words between them. Harry's heart raced, and he wondered if the universe was giving them a chance to get some closure or if it was sick joke.

Harry's breath hitched slightly as he stood there, unsure of what to do next. His mind raced with memories of their past together—the good times, the laughter, the fights, and ultimately, the heartbreak. He took a tentative step forward, then stopped. Y/N, on the other hand, seemed to be caught in a similar turmoil. Her eyes, which had initially shown surprise, softened as she looked at him, but there was also a hint of uncertainty.

The sounds of the park seemed to fade into the background as they continued to hold each other’s gaze. Finally, Harry took another step forward and then another until he was standing a few feet away from her. He hesitated, then managed a small, tentative smile.

“I thought Japan was my territory and off limits for you” he said, his voice gentle, almost hesitant.

“Didn’t realize that we still had divided territories. Weren’t you in Italy a few weeks ago?” she replied, a playful tone in her voice, but her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. She shifted slightly on the blanket, making room as if inviting him to sit.

He took the invitation, lowering himself onto the grass beside her. For a few moments, they sat in silence, the only sounds being the rustling of leaves and distant laughter from other park visitors. Harry took a sip of his coffee, searching for the right words.

"Point taken," he said with a knowing smile, aware that Italy held a special place in her heart. Perhaps that's why he found himself spending most of his free time there—chasing her and the memories they had once shared. Italy had become one of refuge, a place where he could feel closer to her, even if she was no longer by his side.

"I didn’t expect to see you here," he finally said, glancing at her.

"I didn’t expect to see you either," she replied, a faint smile touching her lips. "How have you been?"

He nodded, looking down at his coffee cup. "I've been... busy. Touring, recording, the usual. What about you?"

“Good. Nothing unusual” she said, her gaze drifting to the cherry blossoms. "Life's been quiet, but good.”

"How long are you staying?"

"A month."

"You finally took those vacations," he smiled warmly, fully aware of how much she had dreamed of this much-needed break. The thought of her taking time for herself brought a sense of relief—he had always wanted her to prioritize her well-being, even if their paths had diverged.

Y/N nodded, a grateful expression softening her features. "Yes, finally," she replied, a hint of exhaustion tinged with excitement in her voice. "I needed this more than I realized."

Harry looked at her, noticing the subtle signs of weariness that hinted at the weight she had been carrying. "I'm glad you're giving yourself this time," he said sincerely. "You deserve it."

As they sat on the grass, Y/N suddenly glanced at her watch and then back at Harry, her expression shifting. "I need to get going," she said softly, her voice tinged with reluctance.

Harry looked at her, concern etching his features. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just... I have stuff to do."

Harry felt a pang of disappointment but tried to hide it. "I get it," he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “Let me walk you out?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. Sure”.

They stood up together, brushing off their clothes. As they walked side by side through the park, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across their path. The silence between them was comfortable, though charged with unspoken words and hidden feelings.

Y/N looked at him momentarily and she felt like she was in the dream. Like in one of the numerous dreams that she had when they had just broken up.

As they neared the exit, Harry felt a growing sense of urgency. He wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. The thought of not seeing her again gnawed at him, so he took a deep breath and asked, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

Y/N glanced at him, sensing the hesitation in his voice. "I’m not sure yet."

Harry's heart raced as he quickly blurted out, "I’m taking a course on making sushi in the afternoon, and in the evening, I was invited to an art exhibition. Would you like to come with me?"

He winced slightly, realizing how rushed and jumbled his words had sounded. But to his relief, Y/N seemed to understand him perfectly. She hesitated, clearly taken aback by the suddenness of the invitation. Her mind raced with conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to decline, to remind herself of the pain that still lingered from their past. Yet another part of her, the part that still held onto the connection they once shared, was tempted to say yes.

She looked at him, trying to gauge his intentions. It wasn’t lost on her how much effort he was putting into this, how much he seemed to want to bridge the gap between them. But she also knew that accepting would mean opening old wounds, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

Deep down, she felt a strong need for closure. She deserved at least that from him—an explanation for everything that had happened in those last few months. The questions that had haunted her, the confusion that lingered, all demanded answers. And as much as she wanted to protect herself from further pain, she knew that without closure, she would never truly be able to move on.

She took a deep breath, her mind racing as she weighed her options. Harry’s invitation felt like an opportunity—a chance to finally confront the unresolved issues between them, to hear his side of the story, and maybe even to find some peace.

“Okay,” she said quietly, meeting his gaze. “I’ll go”.

Harry’s eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and relief. “Really?”

She nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah”. she agreed, feeling a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Harry nodded, his smile growing. “I’ll pick you up”.

“Sounds good” She gave him a small nod.

As Y/N walked away, a surprising sense of calm washed over her. She returned to the charming Airbnb she had rented, a place that had captivated her with its traditional decor and tranquil Japanese garden. This trip had been a rare indulgence—she never took vacations, so she had splurged on a stay that offered peace and serenity. Running into Harry had been the last thing she expected, a twist she hadn’t anticipated.

Once back, Y/N found herself reaching for the bottle of wine she had been saving for her last night in Japan. She poured herself a generous glass, savoring the rich aroma, and then slid open one of the doors that led to the garden. Sitting on the edge, she let her gaze drift over the carefully tended landscape, the soft rustle of leaves in the evening breeze soothing her nerves.

As she sipped her wine, memories flooded back—how it all began with Harry, how blissfully happy they had been during those first two years. The laughter, the shared dreams, the moments that had once made her heart soar.

Y/N rushed through the crowded streets, her phone cradle between her ear and shoulder as she fumbled with bags. She was late, as usual, and in the midst of her hurried pace, she decided to call her coworker to confirm a meeting time.

Without looking too closely, she scrolled through her contacts and dialed the number of her coworker. The phone rang twice before a voice answered on the other end.

“Hello?” a deep, distinctly British voice said.

“Hey, I’m running a bit late,” Y/N said not bothering with pleasantries. “But I’m almost there, so don’t leave without me, okay?”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “Um, I think you might have the wrong number, love,” the voice replied, amusement clear in the tone.

Y/N stopped dead in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat. That wasn’t her coworker’s voice. Realization hit her like a freight train.

“Oh my God,” she blurted out, her face flushing with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I thought I was calling someone else!”

The man on the other end chuckled, a warm, easy sound that somehow made her feel even more flustered. “It’s not every day I get a call like this. I’m amused”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could disappear into thin air. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, feeling like a complete idiot. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me at all. Don’t hang up just yet” He assured her, his voice still light with humor. “I’m a bit curious now. Who were you trying to call?”

“My coworker,” she replied, still mortified. “We were supposed to meet for a presentation, and I’m runnin —”

Suddenly, the call cut off, the connection lost as she moved through a spotty area of service. She stared at her phone in disbelief, her face heating up with a mix of mortification and frustration.

She hesitated, her finger hovering over the screen, but she couldn’t bring herself to redial. It had been a mistake, after all. He probably didn’t think twice about it, she told herself, brushing off the encounter as nothing more than a fleeting moment of awkwardness.

Little did she know, the brief exchange would leave a lasting impression on him. The first track on his next album would be inspired by that stranger’s call, and it would become a hit record.

The next day, as they strolled through the bustling streets of Japan, Harry noticed the silence that had settled between them. The vibrant surroundings seemed to contrast with the quiet tension that hung in the air. He glanced over at Y/N, who was lost in thought, her expression distant.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Harry remarked gently, breaking the silence. His tone was soft, tinged with concern as he searched her face for any sign of what might be on her mind.

Y/N looked up, startled out of her thoughts. She offered him a small, almost apologetic smile. “Just taking it all in,” she replied, her voice quieter than usual too, as if she were trying to keep something at bay.

Harry nodded, but he could tell there was more to it. There was a weight in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, a heaviness that seemed to grow with each step they took closer to the restaurant he had reserved for their private cooking lesson.

“I don’t want this to be awkward,” Harry said, sensing the tension that lingered between them. He wanted to clear the air, to ease the unease that seemed to hang over them, but he knew that doing so would mean opening Pandora’s box—revealing a lot of things he wasn’t ready to confront just yet.

Harry’s words hung in the air, and for a moment, Y/N hesitated. She didn’t want to make things more difficult, but the weight of unspoken questions pressed down on her, demanding to be acknowledged.

“Harry,” she began, her voice trembling slightly as she forced herself to continue, “what went wrong?”.

The question hung there, raw and exposed, cutting through the fragile peace they had tried to maintain. Harry’s steps faltered, his breath catching as he turned to face her, the streets of Japan fading into the background.

“Y/N…” he started, but his voice trailed off, as if he couldn’t find the right words. Or maybe he was afraid of them.

She looked into his eyes, searching for something—an answer, an apology, anything that could make sense of the pain that had consumed her in the months after their breakup. “We used to be happy until those last few months,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s chest tightened as memories of their past came rushing back. He could see it all so clearly—the late-night conversations that stretched into the early morning, the spontaneous trips, the way she used to look at him with so much love in her eyes. It was all there, and it hurt to think about how they had lost it.

Y/N stood outside the studio, her heart pounding in her chest as she leaned against the wall, trying to stay out of sight. She had only been dating Harry for a few weeks, and everything still felt so new, so fragile. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but when she’d arrived at the studio, the sound of his voice singing had stopped her in her tracks.

She could hear him inside, his voice smooth and captivating as he worked through a melody with a small group of people. Y/N knew she should knock, let him know she was there, but something held her back. She was still shy around him, nervous about stepping into his world, a world she felt she was only just beginning to understand.

The music flowed through the walls, wrapping around her like a comforting embrace. She could hear the passion in Harry’s voice, the way he poured himself into every note. It was mesmerizing, and she found herself leaning closer to the door, not wanting to miss a single word.

She bit her lip, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she listened. This was Harry in his element, doing what he loved, and she didn’t want to interrupt that. But as much as she loved hearing him sing, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place, like she was intruding on something private.

Just as she was about to quietly slip away, the door to the studio creaked open. One of the musicians stepped out, giving Y/N a polite nod as he passed by. She froze, hoping he hadn’t noticed her lingering there like some awkward fan. But as the door swung wider, Y/N realized with a jolt that Harry was looking directly at her.

He paused mid-sentence, his eyes lighting up with surprise and something else—something warmer. A smile spread across his face, and he excused himself from the group, his gaze never leaving hers as he stepped toward the doorway.

“Hey darlin’” Harry said softly, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and affection. “How long have you been out here?”

Y/N blushed, feeling caught. “Not long,” she lied, glancing down at her shoes. “I didn’t want to interrupt… You sounded amazing, by the way.”

Harry chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “You could’ve come in, you know. I don’t bite,” he teased, but his eyes were gentle, understanding her hesitation.

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” she admitted, still feeling a bit shy under his gaze.

“Come here. You can never distract me” Harry said, his tone sincere. He reached out, taking her into a tight hug. Harry pulled Y/N into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around her as if he were trying to shield her from the world. She melted into him, her head resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The warmth of his body seeped into hers, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

Harry held her close, his hand gently stroking her back in slow, soothing circles. The tension she had felt earlier began to dissolve in the comfort of his embrace, replaced by a sense of peace that only he could bring her. He smelled like a mix of his cologne and something uniquely him, a scent that was both familiar and calming.

He pulled back just enough to look down at her, his eyes soft with affection.

“You are staring” She murmured, her voice low and tender. Before she could add anything else, Harry leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, his lips lingering there for a moment as if to seal his words with reassurance.

The kiss was sweet, filled with a quiet promise that made Y/N’s heart flutter. When he pulled back, he gave her a soft smile, his eyes filled with warmth. Without letting go of her, Harry reached down and took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. His grip was firm, yet gentle.

“You tell me,” Harry said, his voice suddenly sharp, cutting through the tension between them. “You were the one who left.” The bitterness in his tone was undeniable, the memory of that night still raw and vivid in his mind.

Y/N flinched at the harshness in his words, the pain of that night rushing back to her as well. “You still don’t get it? “How hard is to accept the fact that I left you because you didn’t deserve me?”. She shot back, her voice trembling with emotion. “You shut me out. You pushed me away until I couldn’t take it”.

Harry’s jaw tightened, the frustration and hurt that had been simmering inside him now boiling over. “I didn’t know how to talk to you,” he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice catching her off guard. “I still don’t know how to talk to you”.

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, her heart breaking all over again. “You made me feel like I wasn’t enough,” she whispered, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “Like I couldn’t do anything right, and that no matter how hard I tried, I was always going to lose you.”

Harry’s expression softened, the anger in his eyes giving way to regret. “It’s here” He said, his voice barely above a whisper as they arrived at the restaurant.

As they arrive at the restaurant, the atmosphere feels almost serene, a stark contrast to the tension that still lingers between them. The restaurant is tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, its traditional wooden façade illuminated by soft, warm lights. The sliding door opens as they approach, and they are greeted by the chef, a kind-looking man dressed in traditional Japanese clothing. His warm smile crinkles the corners of his eyes, and he bows slightly as he welcomes them.

"Welcome," the chef says in a gentle voice, his English tinged with a thick accent. "It is an honor to have you here today."

Harry returns the bow, his hand still lightly resting on Y/N’s back as they step inside. “Thank you for having us,” he replies, his tone respectful.

The chef guides them down a narrow hallway, leading them into a cozy kitchen space at the back of the restaurant. The kitchen is immaculate, with gleaming countertops and neatly arranged utensils. Fresh ingredients are laid out in beautiful wooden bowls, each one perfectly prepared for the lesson ahead. The smell of fresh fish, rice, and various seasonings fills the air, making Y/N’s stomach rumble slightly in anticipation.

The chef turns to them with another smile. “Today, we will be learning the art of sushi,” he says, gesturing to the ingredients. “Please, take an apron.”

Y/N reaches for one of the aprons hanging on a nearby hook, the fabric soft and clean in her hands. She fumbles slightly with the ties, her fingers a bit clumsy as she tries to secure it around her waist. Before she can figure it out, Harry steps forward, his hands gentle as he takes the ties from her.

“Here, let me help,” he says softly, his voice filled with a quiet warmth that makes her heart skip a beat.

Y/N turns slightly, allowing him to stand behind her. She feels the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck as he carefully ties the apron around her, his fingers brushing against her back in a way that sends shivers down her spine. There’s a tenderness in the way he handles the simple task, a care that speaks volumes, even without words.

“All set,” Harry murmurs, his voice close to her ear. He gives the ties a gentle tug to make sure they’re secure before stepping back, a small, almost shy smile playing on his lips.

Y/N glances over her shoulder at him, her heart fluttering at the look in his eyes. “Thanks,” she whispers, her voice soft as she tries to ignore the way her emotions are threatening to bubble up to the surface.

The chef, oblivious to the silent exchange between them, claps his hands together, drawing their attention back to the task at hand. “Let us begin,” he says with enthusiasm. “I will show you how to prepare the rice, and then we will move on to cutting the fish.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, trying to refocus her mind on the lesson ahead. But even as the chef begins to explain the process, she can’t shake the feeling of Harry’s hands on her, the lingering warmth of his touch a constant reminder of the connection that still exists between them, despite everything that has happened.

Part 2

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

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[bad1dimagines]

I don't think he likes it ;/

[sweet-creature101]

Kiwi

Summary: Harry and y/n meet after a long time. Harry sees that y/n’s the same yet also very different from the girl he first set eyes on.

famous!harry ; part one

warnings: mention of alcohol, substances, abuse, sex

Harry felt his heart rip to shreds and break apart as he saw he you leave. Albeit he wasted no time in reminding himself that he shouldn’t feel this way. He kept on chanting things like I don’t like her, I don’t like being around her, she’s obnoxious, her head’s too far up her ass.

The real tragedy was that Harry had dated the most affluent of all women, beautiful models and actresses yet he found himself peering at Sarah’s phone everytime it rang, hoping it would be you.

He would dream of you, consciously and subconsciously. It were as if every fibre in Harry’s body told him that he missed you and how your skin felt next to his, and Harry being as arrogant as possible only brushed off the feeling.

Harry wondered about you, where you were and what your were doing at times. He knew you were touring with 5 Seconds Of Summer. He knew you had helped them write their album, Youngblood. Harry had played that album out of curiosity and immediately recognised your work which consisted of youngblood, want you back and empty wallets.

He had fallen into a new and mudane routine, one of checking everyone’s stories and posts on Instagram. Harry happened to check Luke Hemming’s private account, and he saw Polaroid’s of you.

In one, you were naked lying on your stomach as a white blanket only covered you up to the curve your spine, little modesty but enough to cover your ass. In another, Luke had an arm snaked around your waist with a smile etched on his face as you laughed with a hand covering your face. And in the last polariod, your back was against Luke’s chest, his hands around your waist as you lean towards him. It seemed as if your were about to kiss him.

Harry couldn’t sleep that night.

And that’s how the intial steps of engineering Fine Line took place, with sleepless nights and daydreams of you.

—————————————

Fine Line in a single word was an absolute and utter success. Harry felt as if he had been catapulted straight into intense limelight and scrutiny. Everything he did was placed under a microscope, although he was used to it by now.

Harry hummed the melody of She, one of his favourite songs in the album. The muse, undoubtedly being you. The pencil in his hand bounced up and down. He was going through some last minute tour arrangements. He was excited to say the least, Love On Tour was coming together and that exhilarated him.

“Be quiet I’m calling y/n.” Sarah told him. Harry hadn’t heard from you in a long time. You had phoned him a few months ago, to congratulate him.

“Hello?” Harry spoke into the speaker of his phone.

“Hi Harry.” You spoke. Harry felt his heartbeat go haywire at the sound of your voice.

“Aah, to what do I owe this pleasure y/n?” He tried his best to sound calm and collected, afraid his voice might betray him.

“Just wanted to congratulate you. You’ve done some great work on the album Harry.” You said, your voice soft and sweet.

“Thank you Love. How’s everything going with you?” He needed an excuse to hear your voice.

“Same old stuff. Play this show, play that show, write this song and write that song y’know. Really need a break.” You muttered, huffing out a breath in annoyance.

“How’s everything with you?” You added.

“Good. Even better now actually that I don’t have someone like you up my ass the whole time. Songwriting without you is less stressful.” Harry said chuckling.

You feigned shock, a very dramatic gasp leaving your lips. “And here I was thinking we’ve begun to tolerate each other.”

“I know; I know. You could be a bit more subtle when it comes to telling me how much you like me y/n.”

“Like you?! Seriously Harry?! I can barely even look at you without hurling my guts out.”

“Why are you calling y/n?” Harry asked Sarah.

“Because Mitch and I want her at the party Haz.” Sarah said rolling her eyes.

Every year, Sarah and Mitch host a Halloween party. The kind of party that never goes the way it’s supposed to go. It ends up with at least one person missing for a few days. The last time it happened to be Harry, who found himself in a motel, five hours away from their place after he sobered up. Funky times, he called it.

“Quiet as a mouse.” He said, pretending to zip his lips.

“Y/n! Lovie how are you?” Sarah spoke, her voice warm and a lovely smile on her face as she heard you speak. “That’s great! Are you free this Saturday?” Sarah spoke. Harry wish the phone were on speaker, he wanted to hear your voice again. “Yes…. No! Yes, it’s a Halloween party; well the Halloween party.” Sarah was quiet for a moment, her eyebrows sinched in understanding. Sarah went quiet for a moment, whispering a “I know it’s hard.” Harry wondered what bothered you. “You can’t wear jeans! Well not unless they’re a part of your costume.” Sarah said rolling her eyes. “Listen listen, slow down! You can stay at my place yeah?”

“Oh my god I love you I love you I love you. See you. Mwah.” Sarah squealed after the phone call ended.

“So?” Harry asked her, a smile of anticipation on his face as he looked at Sarah.

“Oh wipe off that smile off your face. You’re insufferable.” Sarah said rolling her eyes.

“M’not!”

“We all know you like her. So you can stop with this charade.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about that look.” Sarah said raising her eyebrows at Harry who looked at her with wide eyes at her statement. “There is no look.” He huffed.

“No there is. It’s a ‘i miss y/n but I don’t like her’ look”

“No there’s not.”

“There is.”

“She’s rude, obnoxious and an unpleasant person.” Harry said crossing his arms.

“Sure sure, that’s why you wrote a whole album about her.”

“It was only a few songs!”

——————————————

The music was blaring and loud. You stood outside Mitch and Sarah’s house, contemplating if you should leave or stay. Truth be told, you were exhausted. You didn’t want to party today, not even in the slightest. You wanted to cocoon yourself and stay away from everyone tonight but Sarah convinced you to come. Even dressing up seemed like a hefty chore.

You got out of the car, muttering a thank you to the driver as you handed him his money. You ran your hands over your dress, a sigh leaving your lips. You had dressed up as a pirate, although it was Vanessa, a good friend of yours who had forced you. You intially planned on dressing up in jeans and a tee shirt.

You push through the crowd, searching for Sarah. You find her near the kitchen island with Mitch and Harry behind her. You feel your heart burn when you set your eyes on Harry. Harry was dressed up as a cowboy clad in hot pink. His arms were bare and he was wearing an open waistcoat, showing off his muscled chest. Sarah spots you and waves you.

“You dressed up!” Sarah says, encasing you in a hug. You hug her back. “Sure did.” You said smiling. Mitch huged you tight and you smile a bit at the gesture.

“That’s the finest pirate booty I’ve laid me eyes on.” Harry said, mimicking a pirate accent. You roll your eyes with a small smile as you hug him. “How’ve you been?” You ask Harry. “Tour is kicking my ass. Excited yet scared y’know.”

“Don’t worry about it you’ll do well.” You said, squeezing his hand lightly as you left the trio to themselves.

Harry noticed something was off. You would’ve retorted back to him. Hell, you would’ve done anything but roll your eyes lazily. He noticed your smile didn’t reach your eyes. You seemed sad and exhausted.

After an hour of talking and drinking Harry decided to look for you. He searched the whole house, up and down and couldn’t find you. He was worried to say the least.

He entered sarahs room, scanned it thoroughly and was about to leave but when he saw you, he felt a tug at his heart. You were in balcony, leaning against the railing with your face in your hands as your body racked with sobs. Harry didn’t know what to do.

“Y/n?” Harry whispered as he entered the balcony. He noticed that you had washed your face bare. There was nothing lining your eyes, only your bare heavy red eyes.

You look at Harry with panic ridden eyes, and immdiately begin to rub away the tears. Harry walks upto you and gently holds your hands in his.

“Hey hey it’s okay.” He shushed you.

“I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m not weak I swear.” You said, your voice heavy and hoarse.

“Never said you were.” Harry replied, holding you in his arms. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I feel like, I don’t deserve this life. I shouldn’t be here, in the place I am today.” You said. You began to cry once more, feeling your chest become heavy.

Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. You bent forward where you stood on the floor, leaning against the balcony and pressing your palms to your face, as you began to cry with the force of a person vomiting on all fours.

Harry felt his heart break even more at your condition. He wanted to soothe you and would even kiss your tears away if that were the price to see you smile again.

“Why do you feel this way Love?” He asked you, tightening his arms around you.

“Because I’ve left behind people.” You said. You couldn’t control your tears.

“I’ve had to do the same y/n. It’s a part of life.” Harry said, your neck buried in chest. You could heart his heart beat through his care chest.

“No no not like that. I gave up on my mom and dad.” You said, squeezing your eyes shut hard. “I left them Harry. I saw them ruin themselves because of drugs and I left them.”

Harry was unsure of what to say. He never expected to hear such a confession from you and in all honesty, you had no clue as to why you were discussing this with Harry. But it felt right to talk to someone about it, especially if that someone was him

“We can go to my place. It’s much more quiet.”

“Okay.”

You sat down in the passenger seat of Harry’s car, looking outside. You were oddly silent. Harry started humming a song to get your attention. You still said nothing. Harry started to sing now. You still said nothing. Harry began to change songs on the radio quickly, one after the other. You still said nothing.

“You look pretty tonight.” Harry said. You only looked at him and nodded. “But the boots y/n, hideous.” He dramatically sighed. “You’ll cause a hole in the windscreen if you keep staring this hard.”

It were as if Harry was desperatly trying to say play with me. You were silent and that’s when Harry decided to pull out the big guns.

“How’s everything with that guy.. Luke Hemmings right?” Harry tried to act clueless. You only rolled your eyes at him.

“What? Broke up with him because he fucked you missionary style?” Harry said, snickering as he remebered your drunken confession.

“Your ass must be jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth.” You grumbled. Harry heard the smile in your voice.

“There’s the y/n I adore.” He said, a smile cracking his face.

“Shut up. You’re making too much noise. I can’t even hear myself losing the will to live.” You said as you closed your eyes and laid your head against the back of the seat.

“Great because we’re home.” Harry said as he got out and opened the car door for you. “M’lady.” He said, extending a hand towards you which you took as he led you up the elevator.

You entered the flat and realised it’s still the same. It still smelt of candles and honey. The yellow bean bags lay mushed in the same way and the coffee tables were still dusty. You look around and remembered all the fights, laughter, song writing and mini concerts that took place here. Nostalgia wasn’t very nice to you tonight.

“It’s still the same.” You said, looking around as you stood in the middle. Harry smiled at you. “Never had the time to change it up.” He walked into his room, bringing with him a tee shirt and a pair of boxers. “Thought you might want to change in something more comfortable.”

“Thank you.” You said as you walked into the washroom. You looked at your reflection and reminded yourself to get your act together. You washed your face and tied your hair up in a ponytail and slipped on the tee shirt not bothering to wear the boxers because the tee shirt was good enough at protecting your modesty.

You step outside to see Harry brewing a cup of coffee. He was dressed in a loose tee shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He smiled at you and handed you the cup.

“I’d much rather have whiskey.” You said. Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“Your wish is my command.” Harry said and went to fetch you a glass. “So…” he trailed off as he brought you the glass and drank some from his.

“It was a moment of weakness. Nothing more nothinh less.” You said as you drank.

One glass multiplied to two, two multiplied to four and four came kept on multiplying until Harry had to literally pry out the glass from your hand.

“You’ll have a headache tomorrow y/n.” He said, keeping the glasses away.

“Good thing I know how to handle handle my liquor then.” You said smiling, your cheeks flush and hinted with pink. You lay down on the sofa with a thud and sigh as you stretch your legs.

“You know, I never told you this but Ive always liked coming here.”

“Really?” Harry asked you, his smile gentle and surprised. “Yeah. It’s a good reminder.”

“A reminder of what?” Harry asked you out of curiosity. “That a place away from home can feel like it.”

“This place feels like home?” He asked you, his eyes gentle and warm. “Yeah. I mean, might be the whiskey talking at this point.” You chuckled as you set the glass down.

“I think you’ve had enough.” Harry said.

“Is that a tattoo gun?” You ask, getting up and fetching the tattoo gun. A mischievous smile on your face. “Yes.” Harry said, his eyes wide in uncertainty. “Give me your hand.” You said, as you plugged in the gun into a power outlet. “I don’t think this is a good idea,”

“Shh Harry I know what I’m doing.”

You didn’t know what you were doing.

“Okay.”

You grab the gun and sit across him, thighs touching. You hold his right hand in yours and begin to tattoo half a heart on the outer part of his little finger. Harry watched you intently, brows sinched, your lower lip encased in your teeth as you carefully drew the heart.

“There.” You said once it was completed. Harry looked at you with an incredulous look, “half a heart?”

“Wait a second fuckface.” You said snorting as you the other half of the heart on your left little finger. “Give me your hand.” You said to him. Harry brought his hand next to yours and there it was, a full heart.

“We have matching tattoos.” You said, “wait, we have matching tattoos.” You repeated with a grievous tone. “HARRY WE HAVE MATCHING TATTOOS!” You exclaimed for the third time, bringing your hands to your face.

“You shouldn’t have let me use the gun.”

“You would’ve done it anyways idiot.” Harry mumbled rolling his eyes. “Besides, they’re not that bad if you look at it from a distance.” He said.

“I am pretty good at this though.” You said smugly, a smirk on your face.

“Yeah yeah wipe the smile off your face.” Harry said makinh a face at you that only made you smile wider.

You raise your hand to flick his nose but he catches your wrist in his hand. The smirk on your face faded and Harry looked at you with raised eyebrows as his hand slowly travelled to your elbow, tugging you close to him until you were almost but not fully in his lap.

“Want to try that again sweetheart?”

Everything happened far too quickly. You had lost the ability to comprehend the fact that you had reached such a juncture. You lean in, brushing your lips against his but not kissing. The fingers of your free hand trail the curve of his jaw and settle down at the base of his neck.

Harry chuckled and said “are you holding back Love?”

You look at him with glassy eyes as you remove his tee shirt. Your hands shaking and fumbling with every move. Harry removes your tee shirt hastily as if he were a hungry man begging on all fours for food. He wraps your legs around his torso and dips your backwards until the springs in the sofa begin to squeak. He cups your face in his hand, his thumbs encasing your face carefully. He kisses you. He kisses you until time topples over and you are sweeped by heavy oblivion.

“If you plan on fucking me, do it right now or else get out so I can make myself come.” You said. Harry smirked.

And then, he fucked you. He fucked you hard against the sofa, claiming you as his his. He buried himself in you again and again. Glorifying in the feel of you, your smell, your taste. He fisted his hand in your hand in your hair, holding you in place. Your legs were wrapped around his waist as sinful noises escaped your lips.

Your hands were wrapped around his hair, tugging harshly as you both felt your core muscles tighten. “Oh shit.” You whisper in his ear as you felt yourself uncoil slowly. Harry lolled his head back in his ecstasy as he reached his climax.

“Fuck, you make missionary feel good.” You said completely breathless. “That’s how you deserve to be fucked.” He said kissing you.

———————————————

“Oh my God you were fucking amazing!” Sarah said squealing as she hugged Harry.

Harry started touring again and this time, the whole world was familiar with him and his work. He was proud, he was proud of himself and his whole team but he couldn’t help missing you.

Harry and you had a certain arrangement for a while but both of you broke it off perhaps three months ago.

“Harry?” you called his name. Harry looked up at you, his eyes laden with a sheen of lust as he looked at you. “Yeah?” He asked you.

“I think we should stop.”

“Stop?”

“Hooking up i mean.” You muttered as you fiddled with the hem of Harry’s tee shirt you wore. Harry raised his eyebrows at your eyebrows at your words and rubbed his eyes.

“Why do you want to stop? I thought things were good.” Harry said, evidently confused with your behaviour. You had always been bold when it came to telling how you felt and what you wanted so seeing you like this, timid and quiet was a surprise to say the least.

“Look at us. Im wearing your tee shirt to bed, we talk all day, we’re always around each other and what not.”

“Are you afraid you’re going to catch feelings?”

“Yes.”

“That’s ridiculous. You know that i’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“Harry. We’re different people. I don’t want to tie myself down to someone. You have your career ahead of you and I have mine.” You reasoned. Truth be told, you had predicted this conversation months ago.

“I think theres something more to this y/n. Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing beyond what I said.”

“There is.”

“No there’s not.”

“Is it Luke?”

“No.”

“Stop with the curt answers and spit it out.”

“Oh fuck you Harry. I can’t deal with this right now.” You spat at him, visibly frustrated.

“It’s Luke isn’t it?”

“No it’s not. We hooked up a few times and that’s it and you shouldn’t even care. Why don’t you go and kiss Kendall’s ass like you always do.”

“What are you even trying to say? It’s impossible to have a conversation with you, Jesus.”

“You want a girlfriend. I can’t be one. You want someone who’ll kiss you out of the blue and cuddle you. I can’t be that person for you Harry so stop wasting your time with me.”

“Y/n listen to me-”

“Goodbye Harry.”

That was the last conversation he shared with you. He felt his heart clench at remembering the conversation that had taken between you two.

Harry saw Sarah rush to the door with a bright smile on her face. She was about to open the door but turned towards Harry after mumbling “oh shit.” under her breath.

“Harry.” She called out his name, drawing it out. “Yeah?”

“Y/n wants to talk to you.”

“Okay.” Harry felt his heart burn and his palms turn clammy.

“She’s outside.”

“What?” He exclaimed.

“Okay bye.” Sarah said rushing out the door.

Harry saw you stand outside the door, you hair loose and falling into straight waves with your eyes lined with your signature liner. You wore a short black dress that was sinched at your waist and fell losely at your hips with a pair or red cowboy boots.

“Hi Harry.” You said, your voice unwavering as you stood in the doorway.

“Y/n, i didn’t expect to hear from you.”

“Before you say anything, I’m sorry. I was afraid and this is all so new to me. I fucked up i know. I was too caught up on being tough and not letting you in and what not…”

“Y/n it’s fine listen,”

“No shut up and listen to me first. I’m sorry and I like you, fuck I think it’s more than that and it’s important I get this off my chest. Okay you can speak now.”

“Fuck, get over here so I can kiss you.”

———————————

a/n: I’m yet to re read this so please excuse any typos. Interact with my work, leave me comments, let me know if you liked it! small interaction goes a long way guys! Love you <3

[harrieatthemet]

Needle

Summary: in which Harry brings you flowers to minimize the pain of a needle, and you've decided to throw out your baby books.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author's note: taking it to the very beginning and gifting all of us (myself included) the series of events that brought us to our reigning queen: Angel Baby.

It's her world, we're just living in it: she lives here

It’s resting menacingly between his fingers, staring you down as though it’s got a mind of it’s own. There’s a very familiar sensation that’s starting to conjure itself up in the pit of your stomach; fear and the anticipation of unavoidable pain. Honestly, the longer you fixate on the bulk of the needle the more the feeling that started in your gut starts to expand towards your chest. 

“Just do it,” you blurt out, “get it over with.”

You’re not intentionally trying to squirm. Fight or flight is just loitering deep within your instinctual reflexes, which is making it kind of hard not to writhe around a bit. You don’t know if it’s the gush of cool air that falls in through the cracked window or the way Harry moves closer to your exposed abdomen but you can’t help but jolt a bit. 

“Just hold still poppet, promise m’gonna make it quick.” 

He’s eye level with your lower back now, crouched down with his knees hovering brazenly above his feet. Before he advances any closer he peeks up at you. It’s almost as if he’s silently asking for permission to get on with it. You just nod before sealing your eyes shut, like you typically do. 

There’s an entire routine for this that’s he nailed down to a T. In an attempt to soothe a bit of your nerves, he always lays his hand flat to the base of your stomach. That’s where he lets his thumb rub a few circles as a way to ease the nerves a bit; not just yours, but his too. His newest addition is delivering a small kiss to the spot he pokes you with the needle. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, but he feels like an extra step for good luck couldn’t hurt at this point. He doesn’t mind that this particular shot goes into your butt. He’s big on good luck rituals, so he’s not about to fuck with the juju on this one.

One bit he refuses to change is to dig up something distracting to draw your attention elsewhere. It doesn’t always work. In fact, you don’t think it’s ever worked at all. You’d never outwardly admit that it’s a useless ploy; you know he’s just trying to take some of the edge off. Each time it’s something different and he always tries to pick something ridiculous or outlandishly stupid. 

“Y’know,” he grins as he takes the fleshy part of your belly in between his thumb and index finger “I literally just kissed your ass.”

A proud smirk plants itself on his mouth when he hears an exhale-like laugh slip out of you. It fades into a frown though as he jabs at you with the needle, because you suck it back in with a sharp breath. One of your hands is gripping onto the basin of the sink, and the other is digging it’s fingers into the flimsy material of his shoulder in an attempt to offset the impending burning sensation. He can almost feel your fingernails creating small crescents into the surface of his skin. 

It’s a relief once he can finally pull the needle out. He hates seeing you in pain. Even though this was an endeavor you both willingly agreed to embark on, he hates being the one to put you in pain. That’s why he breathes out in comforting release when he can put the empty needle onto the kitchen counter. 

“S’all finished now,” his tone is so calm because he knows the stifling burning sensation is well underway, “no more shots.”

His eyes are trained on you as you wiggle your jeans back up your legs, wincing a bit when the denim veers over the injection spot. And you fiddle with the zipper before looping the button back in, smoothing out your shirt over the waistband as a way to push the last 6 minutes completely from your mind. 

Finally you bring your gaze to meet his, moping a bit in the process, “You said that last time.”

“I mean it,” he tuts, the coolness of his rings meeting your cheeks as he lays both hands flat on your face, “can feel somethin’ different this time.”

He doesn’t care that he goes in for a peck on your mouth and still feels the frown on your lips. For good measure, he delivers a few more at rapid speed until he finally feels your frown lines subside. That’s how he can start to feel a little more content. He’s completely at ease when he pulls his face back a bit, analyzing the more lax expression on your face while he strokes his thumbs near your temples. 

“Maybe” you answer flatly, “I’m not getting my hopes up, though.”

Though he’s limited in what he can do to mitigate all that comes with the IVF process, he’s made it his priority to over-compensate in what he actually can do to try and make up for the things he can’t. If he could physically take the shots himself he would in a heartbeat. But he can’t, so he teeters on the border of helplessness when you get down in the mouth like this. He’d compensate with long vacations, drowning you in little gifts sporadically or planning quirky dates to keep your energy up. There was a shift after the most recent miscarriage that even doubling the size of your wedding ring diamond couldn’t reverse. So now he just tries to stick solely to offering his optimistic support whatever chance he gets. 

“Thank you for these,” you hum in gratitude as you bring the bouquet of flowers beneath your nose, “I feel like I should be getting you flowers, though.”

“Flowers fo’ me?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, “Why’s that?”

“Didn’t you just open mouth kiss my ass cheek?” 

His laugh starts in the back of his eyes as they crinkle in amusement, tickling the back of his throat as it spills from his mouth and echos through the kitchen. With a shake of the head he mocks you for a minute by puckering his lips, handing you the ice pack he fished out of the freezer so you could minimize the burn from the injection site. 

He gleefully accepts your invitation to handle the flowers; unwrapping them with nimble fingers as he peels back the paper to expose the stems. There’s amusement twinkling in his eye as he catches you slipping the bunny shaped ice pack inside the butt of your jeans, fidgeting with it so it’ll stay in one place. The amusement quickly deteriorates though when he opens the garbage to throw out the paper and greeted with something of a much more somber tone. 

“Y/N,” his shoulders drop a bit, “y’wanna tell me why these are in here?” 

Though your back is turned to him so you can’t physically see what it is he’s referring to, you already know exactly what he’s talking about. If he’s got the garbage open you know he’s looking at the pile of baby books mounted at the very top. You know how he is, how he wants to take care of everyone all the time. And because of that, you willfully decided to omit your brief breakdown earlier when you went through your nightstand and stumbled upon those books hidden beneath a couple pairs of tights. 

“Not particularly” you admit, back still turned to him, “just had a kinda weird morning.”

There’s a lingering silence that takes up a chunk of space in the room. You’re not willing to divulge anymore than you already have, and Harry waits a minute before throwing out the paper before closing the garage. He wants to make sure he strings together the proper things to say to you before saying anything at all. 

It’s once he gathers what he needs to that you don’t hear him, but feel him; the front his body pressing into the back of yours. He smirks a bit when he feels the chill of the ice pack through your pants, hands slithering around your waist before he interlocks his fingers and rests both hands on your stomach. A hum of approval gurgles in his throat when he feels you lean into the embrace so he can rest his head atop your shoulder. 

“S’gonna happen” his whisper is like a lull in your ear, his lips right up against them, “We’ll go t’the doctor in a few days and do th’extraction and just take it day by day. Good news this time, I promise.” 

He delivers it with kisses to your head in between words, as though it’ll somehow permanently ingrain into your mind and become a staple in your thought process. 

In a way, it almost does. 

On a loop in your mind his words play; over and over throughout the next few days without pause in sight. He tries to reiterate them as much as he can whenever he feels like you need a little extra support; the egg retrieval, the implantation process, all of it and everything in between. If this has been a difficult road for him to go down, he truthfully can’t imagine the cross you’ve been bearing through it all. All he can do for the next couple of days, though it pains him there isn’t anything more he’s capable of, is offer as much moral support and words of encouragement that he’s capable of producing. 

“How y’feeling?” He’s asking with a wide, forced smile as he peeks over at you from the driver’s seat, “Feelin’ good?” 

His hand unoccupied by the steering wheel is making itself useful on your upper thigh. It’s where his fingers are tapping in tune to the key of the music humming from the car stereo. And every so often they’ll stop to give your leg a squeeze; his way of comforting you on the trek to the long-await, very dreaded doctors appointment. The tone of the afternoon is overkill perkiness, and Harry is setting the mood by sparing no gesture big or small. 

“Har relax,” you laugh, “I’m all good.” 

There’s no point in rebutting with anything or doubling down on the enthusiasm like he’s been doing all morning. You’re answer was definitive enough to tell him that you weren’t interested in dragging that conversation any further than where you left it. That’s fine; he’s playing by your rule book today anyways. 

It’s why he doesn’t make that cheesy cat joke to the girl behind the desk at the doctor’s office. He’s said it about a million times and knows you’re sick of it. He doesn’t stand up when the attending nurse hangs in the doorway of the waiting room, calling out for a ‘Ms. Styles’ and being corrected by Harry with the usual (and polite) ‘it’s Mrs. Actually’. He’s so sure to keep you in a calm and collected state that he doesn’t make a vampire joke or pretend to pass out when the nurse puts the line into your vein to take a blood sample. 

“No fake faint this time,” you muse teasingly, “they grow up so fast.” 

From his seat in the corner you watch him playfully roll his eyes, mimicking you under his breath before he stands up and straightens himself up. He wants to take a firm stance by you, who’s perched meekly on the examination table swinging your legs back and forth to pass the time. 

You won’t tell Harry in fear of him leaning into the overcompensating role of ‘caretaker’ and ‘fixer of all problems’, but you’re stomach is in a million tight little knots and your eyes are starting to glaze over. At first you wanted to fault it to exhaustion; you barely got an hours worth of sleep last night because the onset of anxiety was too overbearing to keep your eyes shut for more than a few minutes. 

“I don’t think I’m meant to be a mom,” you sigh forlornly, and his eyes go wide at the bluntness, “I don’t think- I don’t wanna do this again if it doesn’t work, okay? Is that okay?”

It’s almost an a-ha moment for Harry. He’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop because he couldn’t really wrap his head around how mild you were being. But there it was, the revelation from you’d he’d been holding his breath for. It’s not what he wanted to here but nonetheless, he knew it was bound to come at some point. 

"Whatever y'want, poppet. Just want y'to be happy."

He nods in agreement as he says it, hoping it's enough. If this was the end, than it was the end. All he can do is offer a kiss before a long-lingering hug, which you take as confirmation that he understands you’re just not equipped to keep at this further than the point you’re at. 

“How’re we doing today?”

Both you and Harry stiffen out a bit once the doctor immerses himself into the room, answering with a chipper ‘good’ in unison. It tells Harry to prep for the impending bad news. It feels like he regressed and sunken back into the last time he was here. The memory is almost too vivid; the perpetual ball of dread in his stomach, the look of disappointment that swept across your face before a few tears dribbled down your cheek, the sob or two you choked out in the otherwise silent car ride home. The memory is subconsciously prepping him for what’s to come, and he’ll be here to pull himself up by the boot straps to make sure you have plenty of space to crumble once the doctor reads off the plastic board in his hands. 

“Tell me how you’re feeling,” the doctor asks, plopping himself down in one of those backless spinning chairs to scoot himself closer, “anything worth making a note of? Nothing is too big or small.” 

“Not really” Harry answer is simply a mindless, knee-jerk response, “just like-oh, y’asking, no ok-ok sorry.” 

The doctor chuckles a bit, saying something to Harry about how nerves are normal. Honestly, you’re only half listening and both of them are as audible as white noise. You’ve mentally checked out as you anticipate the news to come. You wish you were out of your body or anywhere else.

“Just tired,” you admit, slowly nodding as you purse your lips, “really tired. A little bit of cramping, too. Mostly tired, though.” 

That’s about all you’re willing to disclose for your quaint audience of two. Though you are literally and physically exhausted, perhaps there was a bit of a metaphoric meaning to it too. This process is tiring. Consistent bad news is tiring. Being physically incapable of giving Harry the child he so desperately wants is so fucking tiring. 

All the doctor does is nod his head in a way to in-audibly tell you he’s making a mental note of your vague list of symptoms. There’s a terse pause where the room falls into a quiet pause. The only noise to be heard is when your doctor flips one of the pages on his clipboard before swiftly folding it in half. 

“Well,” his breath out is in a more positive tune, “all normal symptoms for the first trimester.” 

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion before your body begins to go completely numb, though Harry’s hand gives your a comforting squeeze. He looks at you first, lips spread in a little O as his eyes nearly double in size. Frantically he tries to rack his brain for something to say, and while nothing seems to be coming out, the doctor swoops in to do enough talking for him.

The doctor extends his hand out to you, the folded paper in his palm and a grin etched on the lower half of his face, “Congratulations.”

[iwannakissyoubuticant]

Why Me?

summary: you like harry, a lot, while harry....we'll find out

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

a/n: new here, would love the feedback and rb, be kind<3

“Look out!”

But it was too late you lost your balance and jerked forward towards the cold ground or what you thought to be, instead you landed on top of somebody else, somebody who smelled nice, really nice. You opened your eyes and for fraction of a second, the world around you seemed frozen. It was him. Your face was buried in Harry Style’s chest, the first few buttons of his shirt undone exposing his heavenly front. You couldn’t help but inhale against him taking all that you could. You weren’t doing it voluntarily but your body was somehow making you do so.

“It’s a bit early for this, don’t you think?” he said voice rasping with a playful smile.

It made you come back to your senses. Focus! But wait a minute what did he say?-

“What do you mean?” you said without thinking and instantly regretted it.

“Well I wouldn’t mind if you wouldn’t but I still think-”

“Oh My God!” you cut him off because clearly, the conversation was going in another direction. You got ahold of yourself and tried to get your way back up. You led out your hand to him and he instantly grabbed it pulling himself up. 

“Ow!” he said getting up. Falling on the ground must have hurt. He stood up and now you were standing in close proximity face to face, well not face to face cause he was taller than you but nevertheless you were close. You started to think about all the times you had wished for it to be true, the cute little scenarios that you’d imagine in your head every time you’d let yourself think about him. Harry Styles a year senior to you and the rockstar of your school. He was loved and adored by everyone in the entire University. He was charming, a great singer, polite, and for most parts cocky but for a good reason. The moment you first saw him you knew he’s gonna mean something to you and immediately after you also knew that you would never mean anything to him. It was sad but true. Part of the reason you never even approached any kind of conversation with him ever except for maybe congratulating him or that one time which you’re pretty sure you don’t remember. Also, he’s always with someone, always. Didn’t stop you from wishing to kiss him every time he would pass by you. You weren’t one of the shy introvert ones you were outgoing, lively, speak up for yourself, and would hit on guys if you wanted but not with him. You just couldn’t. 

“NO!-” he spoke interrupting your trail of thought. He was hunched on the ground picking something from the ground. He got up and you noticed he had a bunch of roses in his hand but he had a look of despair on his face and then you saw the flowers were crushed. Somebody stepped on them maybe it was him. Yeah, it was him, he accidentally slipped on his own flowers. He must’ve brought them for somebody else, probably a girl he likes, you thought. You felt bad for him now that they were ruined. But you also felt bad for yourself.

“I’m so sorry, it’s partly my fault, I lost my balance and fell on you..” you said apologetically.

“Partly? It’s completely your fault!” he spoke agitatedly. Now that was not fair cause he was wrong.

“Excuse me? Some asshole pushed me and that’s why I lost my balance and fell on you, it’s not like I did it intentionally so, watch it.” you clarified yourself matching his tone. ”Nevertheless I’m sorry that your flowers got ruined, genuinely.” you added calmly.

“Yeah, they are...they’re ruined..” He said in a settling tone but he still looked mad probably at himself. You wish you could help.

“Come with me!” you said excitedly...you just had a brilliant idea.

“What?” he asked looking confused.

We’re getting you new flowers!”

“Where? what are you talking about-?” You grabbed his hand in yours not giving it a moment’s thought and started walking ahead of him and he was following your steps. You passed through the crowd in the hallway. You felt a few glances at you probably because of Harry but you didn’t pay attention. You were in a hurry. Soon you both were in front of the headmistress’s room. You dropped his hand and went inside. You turned back and saw that Harry was still outside the door.

“What are you doing? Get in! Do you wanna be seen sneaking to the Principal’s office?” you said quietly. Quickly he got in and shut the door behind him. It was a moderately large area. 

“Why are we here?” he asked quietly shrugging.

“To get you a fresh bouquet, don’t you want that?” you replied pointing your eyes at the rose vase, smiling coyly. He looked to where you were pointing, his eyes widened with the realization, and his lips curved into a smile the same as yours.

“Are you suggesting...”

“Yes! but we don’t have much time, let’s go!”

You got hold of the vase, emptied the fresh roses carefully while he was arranging the crushed ones in a presentable manner, and then put them in the vase instead. They looked...bad. So you took one of the fresh roses and placed it amongst them. Harry glanced at what you were doing and then he came close to you took another of the fresh rose and put I next to your flower in the vase just like you did.

“They look better now” He smiled looking at you. You smiled back.

“...I’ll email them to you right away.” you both heard a voice from outside coming closer. It was Mrs. Walker, the principal. She surely is gonna come inside any second. You looked at Harry only to find that he was looking at you, panic clearly visible on his face just like yours. You didn’t know what to do, you could pretend to be waiting for the Principal in her office without permission plus you had the flowers. There was no time. You were getting anxious.

“Shit, now wh-” Harry clasped his palm on your lips stopping you from speaking any further. You looked at him, somewhat startled. He moved behind you keeping his hand firmly on your mouth and started walking towards the room further till you reached the desk. It was a huge wooden table and before you could comprehend what was happening he pushed the chair with his free hand and motioned you to get under the table. You did as he said and simultaneously he got under as well. It was a confined space with cabinet drawers on both sides and the only vacant space was of the chair. He pulled the wooden chair back as much as he could without making any noise, his muscles flexing. Soon you both heard the door open and became inert. 

It was in the complete stillness you noticed the kind of position you both were in. Harry’s back against one side of the wood and your own back against Harry’s chest. His legs are wide and you are in between them. Your hips were dangerously close to Harry’s crotch. You could feel his chest rising up and down matching yours, his breath falling right into your neck, the tension was overwhelming you. All of a sudden Harry’s hand came onto yours and you got aware that your hands were fidgeting against the flower stems. He must have noticed it and was trying to calm you down.

“Ow..” a thorn stuck in your index finger and ow it hurts but you immediately placed your hand on your mouth and so did Harry on top of yours. Seems like he wanted to do it for you or for both of you actually ‘cause a single voice and you both were done. He bent forward to see what caused the sudden cry so you moved your hand from your mouth and turning back a little showed your finger with a tiny drop of blood coming from it. He looked concerned and held your hand in his to comfort you. You couldn't help but think how good his hands felt in yours. 

“Now where are those files? I sure asked them to put it on my table...” Mrs. Walker was talking to herself not that you could see but you could tell that she was close to the table. Suddenly you heard her footsteps moving closer and closer. You started getting anxious with every step she took.  Soon she was right next to the chair opening one of the drawers. You let your head fall back into Harry’s shoulder closing the little gap that was left, his cheek touching your temple, you held his hand tightly, eyes closed. In response he wrapped his other arm around your shoulder, assuring you. You heard the drawer getting closed and opened your eyes only to find she was still standing there. But she was no longer searching for the papers. Maybe she found them and would go now. But you didn’t hear the doors being opened for another couple of minutes.

After a while, however, the door opened and then closed. She was out. You both sighed, bodies relaxed. You glanced at Harry still laying on him, he let out a small laugh, it was an anxious laugh and you couldn’t help but join him. The whole situation was so anxiously funny. Soon you were both laughing hysterically. 

“Jesus! I can’t believe what just happened.” Harry said controlling his giggles.

“I swear to God for a moment I thought we were done for” you added, still laughing.

“You look beautiful,” he said all of a sudden. You stopped laughing not abruptly didn’t believing what you heard.

“What?” you asked still smiling cause what you heard sure as hell can’t be true.

“I said you are beautiful,” he repeated himself with a look on his face which was deadly serious but in the sweetest way as if he was just being honest.

Your heart just skipped a beat, you could feel your cheeks flushing, the warmth of your skin touching his, the close proximity of air it was all creating sexual tension. You could feel it, the butterflies. You gulped the air in your throat. What was happening? You realize you should probably do something.

“Um.. thanks, I guess. I...” you were stuttering and you decided to detach yourself from him and moved your head which rested on him but the strong tattooed arm that was around your shoulder didn’t let you get away too far. He moved forward, his mouth touching your ears. 

“You’re beautiful.. so fucking beautiful..” he whispered in your ears, then he lowered his face into your neck, inhaling sharply. You shut your eyes, head leaning back against him almost on its accord. His other hand slowly caresses your cheek and grabs your neck and tilts it towards himself. You slowly opened your eyes. Your faces are inches away from each other. His emerald elookedking deeply into yours, constantly switching to your lips. He looked like a dream. A part of you wished to play along to see where it goes, even though it might just be Harry being playful. You wanted it, wanted him. You moved your hands to cup Harry’s face but then you saw the flowers in the palm of your hands. The flowers he got for someone else. Someone else that wasn’t you.

You dropped your hands abruptly at the realization, detaching and pushing yourself. You wanted to just get away from him. Fast. In the process of which you hit your head under the desk wood but didn’t care. You pushed the chair, and let yourself out of the tiny confined space. Soon Harry followed you out.

“I...I'm sorry if-” he spoke as soon as he got up 

“Yeah...no..um. I...gotta go. I’ve Trigonometry in like...” you looked at the wall clock or at least you pretended to .. “now!” you finished and moved swiftly out of the door, making sure to check the hallway.

“Hey..um..” you heard Harry speaking but you were already gone. You just wanted to run...away and so you did. You walked as fast as you could, afraid that Harry might soon catch up if he wanted to. So you kept walking until your feet dragged you to the only place you could think of- the library.

You went straight inside to the “Memoirs” section cause it’s the least popular genre that people go for and that’s exactly what you needed solitary. You went ahead and sat down on the floor, back against the wall.

“Fuck!” you brought them with you. His flowers. You were in such a hurry you forgot to give it back to him. The entire reason you did what you did- sneaking to the Principal’s office, stealing her roses, hiding under the smallest place possible with the hottest person you’ve known, only to take it with you. What’s happening?

(if all goes well, part 2 is waiting my loves, pls let me know what you think, ily and thank you for making it to the end)