1d boys imagines

Concerts are literally the best thing humans have come up with, your just in a big room with the music and people you love and I don’t know what it is but however shit life is going you actually forget about it and your in such a good state of mind and you just become free for a while ya know

4

no question about it i’m ready to get hurt by harry again.

SNL - Harry Styles Imagine

When you’d heard that Harry Styles was going to be on your show, it was all you could do not to scream out loud. You’d been a One Direction fan for years. Now days, however, you were less vocal about it.

You were young, and fond of comedy and writing, so being a comedy writer for SNL seemed perfect for you. You’d only been here for a little longer than four months, but you’d already become a favorite of the cast for your skits. You were by far one of the youngest writers on set.

When Lorne came to you and asked you to write the new “Celebrity Family Feud” episode you were considerably excited. Not only would you get to write an episode of one of your favorite parody skits, but you got to write a part for Harry Styles. It would be an under statement to say that you were excited.

“Wow, you look very nice today,” your coworker Kate McKinnon said with raised eyebrows.

“Thanks,” you said, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Any particular reason?” She asked, nudging you. She was one of your best friends on set so you thought you could trust her with your secret.

“Well, to be honest, I’m a big One Direction fan, I’m excited to see Harry,” You admitted sheepishly.

“Oh really,” Kate said mischievously. “Well he’s here I think.”

“He is!” You said nervously, you hadn’t been able to prepare yourself.

“Yeah, I’ll introduce you,” she was grinning with glee.

“Kate!” You tried to stop her.

“Hey Harry!” Kate called, and seemingly out of no where Harry Edward Styles began to saunter towards her. When Harry reached you, Kate had the grin of the Cheshire Cat.

“This is y/n, she’s a huge fan,” Kate said and simply walked off, leaving you alone with Harry. You felt your stomach lurch with nervousness.

“Hello y/n,” Harry said in his deep sultry voice.

“Hi,” you said, making sure you smiled, and didn’t look like a dying fish or something.

“I really like Sign of the Times,” you blurted. “I mean it’s just amazing, it really speaks to me about the state of the world. It’s so powerful and beautiful, and different from anything anyone else is doing, I just I wanted to let you know….I really like it…” you tapered off, feeling awkward all at once.

“Thanks,” Harry said, and he was genuinely smiling with gratefulness. “I was worried it wouldn’t work without the rest of the boy.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the boys, but this song is just monumental!” You said smiling.

“Wow, that’s really kind of you,” Harry smiled. Soon you were talking like you’d been old friends forever. It was wonderful, you couldn’t imagine a nicer person to talk with. He’s was so real, so genuine, there was nothing fake or showy about him.

Eventually, of course, everyone had to get to rehearsal, and you enjoyed watching Harry in the skit you’d written. As he was practicing, he turned to you, and winked. However, this action was not unnoticed by one cast member.

“Harry, stop flirting with Y/N!” Jimmy called jovially, and Harry blushed. You began to blush as well, but felt your heart swell happily. “You can use your Styles charm on her later,” Jimmy laughed.

In a little bit it was time for Harry to practice his song. You stood there in awe, as Harry’s powerful, ground breaking voice rang out. The words seemed to vibrate your heart.

When he finished, everyone applauded. You were so proud of Harry that you began to tear up a bit. You’d been there for his Xfactor days, and for the first album, through all the tours, and to know he’d gotten so far made you so happy.

As Harry sauntered over to you, you wiped your eyes quickly to hide your emotions. However, as he walked closer, seeing him made you well up all over again. Without thinking you threw your arms around him, hugging him tight.

“That was awesome,” you spoke into his shoulder.

“Thanks,” he mumbled back, seeming to be thankful for the hug. He was shaking a bit, he must’ve been nervous. You let him go, and stepped back, embarrassed at your outburst. However, when you looked up his eyes were sparkling, and he was looking at you gently.

“So you wanna get some coffee after this?” He asked abruptly.

You had to hold yourself back from saying, “who me?!” You were amazed to see your dreams coming true before your eyes.

“Yes definitely!” You exclaimed. “Here’s my number, just in case I’m doing something when you finish rehearsal,” you said excitedly, scrawling your number on a piece of paper.

“Awesome, thank you,” Harry said grinning at the paper you handed him.

“Y/n!” one of the other writers was calling you.

“I guess I have to go,” you said drearily.

“Alright, well I’ll see you later,” Harry winked and you smiled brightly at him before running off.

Frat Boy Pt. 8

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6,  part 7 (1), part 7 (2)

HELLO FRIENDS HE HAS RETURNED TO YOU. It’s shorter than most updates, but necessary things are happening to push the story along and one mystery is revealed! It’s always lovely to hear your thoughts or guesses about what’s happening. Your frat boy has missed you xx

It’d been an utter disaster.  You hadn’t eaten much at all last night and the dull throbbing in your head was a reminder that alcohol on an empty stomach wasn’t the best idea.  Especially when it’d been expensive enough to be smooth and light and what you think alcohol should taste like.  It had hit you even harder on the ride back to your dorm, the numbness in your hands not entirely due to the pricks of cool air against your skin, something you realized after you stumbled out of the passenger seat and Renny had to pick you up . Your whole body was completely numb at that point.  The reason for your numbness was the same reason you’d slept without a nightmare last night, and it was the reason you (almost) slept through your morning class and only had time to throw on a sweatshirt, jeans, and sunglasses before, quite literally, running to English.

You were late, making sure to close the door quietly behind you this time, but the pair of eyes you expected to see whipping around to follow you to your seat with a seductive glimmer weren’t there.

He’d ditched.

Only Niall was there to mutter a quick “Hey Y/N” as you passed him to reach your seat.  The teacher started talking about something having to do with how everyone’s analysis was sub-par on the last essay, but if you were being honest you didn’t care, you couldn’t even concentrate.  Though you were facing the front, your mind kept drifting behind you, to the image of the empty seat where you’d gotten used to seeing his long body confidently sprawled out and leant back, one elbow propped up on the arm chair and head cocked as if he were pretending to listen.  It was annoying how even though he wasn’t here he could still somehow take control of your thoughts.  It’d be easier to ignore him if he wasn’t so damn infuriating, just the thought of last night made your blood boil, but the words you’d said came back to you, slowly, bit by bit.

Go back to your fake girlfriend who clearly understands you so much better.

People have planes and go to Europe on a three day weekend…

Creepily small wrists!

Had you really ran your mouth that much? To him?!  You groaned a bit and the person beside you turned with a loaded look -Weirdo- before returning their attention back to the board.  No matter how true your words were, you wouldn’t have told him all that completely sober.  At all.  You had a mind that was quick to get indignant and when the alcohol came in, the filter went out and there was only the Lord to help the poor person caught in the crossfire.  A rush of embarrassment flooded you and you’d regretted saying one word to him.  You should’ve played it cool, acted like you didn’t care that he was with someone else, not made a fool out of yourself.  He probably thought you were someone easily charmed by money when he’d paid for your meal or some bitter charity case and your sad speech last night just proved it. 

You realized you were kicking yourself and tried to stop your mind from spiraling any further.  If there’s one thing you hated most about boys it was that they could make you feel absolutely stupid.

Yet here you were.

Keep reading

Harry’s reaction to James hitting that high note in Best Song Ever is my favorite thing ever, he’s like so proud! haha

Don't let me go (empty arena)
Harry Styles
Don't let me go (empty arena)

I still love this song so much // use headphones

anonymous asked:

Hello love! Could you write a Harry blurb where he's not feeling well and has a migraine whenever he gets home from the studio and he complains at dinner saying his stomach is upset and he feels he'll be ill and so you tell him to go to the toilet and he sits in the bathroom for a while before he's sick? Thanks Hun!

you hear the thump of the door as it slams itself shut behind your boyfriend of five years, harry. “how was your day?” you ask without lifting your eyes from your AP Calculus textbook. man, you didn’t think college would actually require work. you hear him though, as he grunts in response and shrugs off his coat without bothering to hang it up. this is when you finally close the heavy book on your lap, surrounding your pencil as well and look up at harry. he’s looking right at you too. his eyes are red-rimmed, and his face is pale. your face twists in concern, propping yourself up with one arm and ask, this time more comfortingly, “are you okay?” he crosses the room with a few strides and no words, completely surrendering to your embrace as soon as your fingertips touch the hem of his shirt. he kicks off his shoes and he rests his head on your lap and the rest of his body sprawls out messily on the couch. you stroke his curls back gently and press a kiss to the top of his forehead–and it burns. “you want me to make some hot soup?” you trace circles across his cheek bones, “or i could make porridge if you’d like.” harry shakes his head and cuddles deeper into the sofa, and deeper into your arms. “don’t move,” he whispers. “i’m so tired.”

“you’re ill,” you smile softly. “i could see it in your eyes when you walked in, and i can feel it on your forehead.”

he sighs, shifting his weight a little. “just a rough day at the studio.” then suddenly he sinks his head deeper into your lap and groans out in pain. his hands fly immediately to his stomach, in which he says, “also my stomach hurts. i feel as if something’s tearing a hole right through my abdomen.”

you press a kiss to his jaw and carefully untangle yourself from his limbs and announce, “i’m going to go make you some hot soup, okay? you stay right here.” rushing off to the kitchen, you quickly discard the leftover noodles you had devoured into the trashcan and replaced the emptiness at the top of the stove with a pot and a can of campbell soup. “hey, haz–!” but you already hear the sound of him retching echoing through the whole house. you sigh to yourself, abandoning the kitchen for the bathroom.

he’s crouched over the toilet bowl, forehead pressed against the cold, white brim, looking so much in pain. you kneel down next to him, rubbing circles into his back. he leans against you, and almost flashes you a smile, but then the next wave of nausea hits him and he’s retching and you barely make it out.

“i’ll have soup ready when you’re done!” you call back to him.