Reunion

- Where Harry and Anne reunite after 6 years. 

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


Harry didn’t sleep the night before their departure.

In fact, Harry could barely sit still for the past three days from all the anxiousness inside of him. He was already packed—already had everything he needed right beside the front door—yet he still couldn’ stop fidgeting.t

It was three in the morning when Harry decided to have a makeshift date inside their apartment. Their flight was planned to leave at 7, which ultimately lead them to spend the whole night awake due to Harry’s inevitable excitement.

They were hungry and Harry needed to do something proper for Y/n, especially after everything she had done for him. But he had already done so much for her within the past two weeks that she almost didn’t let him spend so much time making them a second dinner. 

But he just wouldn’t take no for an answer and she ultimately didn’t mind. It was quite entertaining watching him cook in quick movements, occasionally laughing at the television set as Friends played quietly in the corner. It was rare for them to have quality moments like this, and although they are together for hours every day, the spontaneous aspects of their relationship died down the more they worked.

Harry had also decorated the kitchen as much as he could. With a few spare candles, a couple supermarket flowers, a bottle of cheap wine, and the small hum of from his thrifted radio—he was really setting an ambiance that made Y/n flustered.

Harry clicks off the television and turns down the lights before turning around to look at Y/n, who’s resting her cheek in her hand as she watches him in such an admirable way that Harry’s heart jumps in his chest.

The light of the candles illuminates her body in a way that almost makes her look so pure, where parts of her remain a silhouette while the rest of her glows in reflection. He feels his palms begin to sweat and feels that familiar tug in his heart when he watches her blink at him in nothing short of falling in love all over again.

He finds it humorous, really—just how much his body reacts to her after all this time.

“You’re looking gorgeous, you know.”

Even in the dim room does he notice her cheeks blush with pink. She hums softly, swiftly lifting her head from her hand and making her way from the chair to waltz over to where he’s leaning against the counter.

She snakes her arms around his waist, underneath the fabric of the apron that’s still tied to his neck before resting her chin upon his chest. Her hands rub up and down his bare back while his hands claim their territory on her waist.

“And you,” she smirks, her hands now roaming to his abdomen and resting upon the ferns inked perfectly on this skin, “you look as beautiful and handsome as ever.”

He sighs in amusement before bending down some to press a kiss upon her lips. It’s quite rough and lustful, however, it’s nothing less than passionate.

Y/n’s hands are relentless along his body and Harry knows it’s because they never have the time to have a proper date. And although what he’d set up in the kitchen isn’t practically proper, it’s the most they can make from the circumstances and Y/n can’t appreciate it enough.

“Keep touching me like that and we’ll be missing our little date.” He chuckles against her lips, “And you’ll be covered in marks when you see my mom again. Know you wouldn’t like that.”

“Wouldn’t.” She shakes her head softly, “Not asking for anything more, just—“ she sighs, her arms now slinging over his shoulders with her fingers intertwined behind his neck in hopes of somehow moving him closer than he already is, “just wanna love on you a bit.”

Her forehead is pressed to his collarbone with her eyes closed, just embracing every last bit of him. No matter how they live, they always manage to make the most out of the very little they have and she knows she wouldn’t be so content if she was living so shitty without him.

He rocks her back and forth gently between his arms, knowing very well that he’s been blessed with something much more than her love. And as much as he wants to express it, there are days he never gets the chance to, so it’s times like these he’s able to make up for all his missing affection.

“Would love to stay like this all night, love, but we have two hours until we have to make our way to the airport and I’d really love it if we enjoy our last dinner alone for the next month.”


“I can’t believe this is really happening.” He whispers, his hand tugging back the roots of his hair as they finally settle into their designated seats.

As much as Harry prepared for this moment, there was really nothing that could have prevented him from becoming so overwhelmed. He could feel the excitement burry in his bones, so much so his entire body feels as if it’s clenching as a way to relieve it.

In only four hours he’ll be in his hometown of Holmes Chapel, and in nearly five hours he’ll be right back at home, snuggled on the couch with his mum and girlfriend watching a stupid romantic comedy him and Anne always watched when he was a kid. He’s been waiting too goddamn long to live that moment and no it’s only five hours away.

Y/n giggles when his hands run down his cheeks with an open mouthed smile. She’s highly amused by how shocked he still is, despite the fact that he had a decent amount of time to wrap his head around the situation. She thinks it’s the damn cutest thing and she wants that smile on him forever; he’s never looked prettier.

“Well, you better believe it because it’s definitely happening. Just a plane ride away from being right where you need to be right now.”

He smiles softly at her before reaching over to press her against him. The armrest in their way of getting closer but neither of them seem to mind as she leans over to kiss his lips gently.

“Work so hard, you deserve this.”

“My sweets.” He mumbles against her lips, his eyes kept closed as he rests his mouth against the corner of her lips, his arms held tightly around her as he embraces the feeling of her against him—a feeling of which he could never grow tired of. “You’re my everything, you know. Don’t know what I’d do without you. Can’t thank you enough.”

“Hm” she hums graciously, shuffling to find room to scoot her body closer to his.

Her cheeks heat up at his words and the way his hands caress her body in the most delicate way possible. Her entire world is held right up against her and she’s never been more grateful to have sacrificed so much of her time for him. He deserves so much more than what he has and not a part of her doubts that for a second.

Her mouth grazes his t-shirt covered shoulder with a smile on her lips.

“You’ve thanked me enough, know you have.”

His hand makes its way to her cheek, pinching the skin softly between the pads of his fingers while her head moves from his shoulder up so that she can look at him.

“Thanked me a lot.” She chuckles.

Harry smirks, his eyes gleaming between a mix of lust and adoration as he remembers it all. Long, long passionate and lustful nights spent between their sheets, soaking each other in and Harry giving her quite literally all he had. Since spending money was no option, making love to her was the most valuable thing he could provide her with to show just how thankful he was. And even though he wanted to give her more—like a diamond ring to finalize their future or a dozen of roses every day until the departure—his love was really all he had and hearing her in pure euphoria made up for all the guilt in his chest.

Y/n didn’t want more, though. Having him was enough—spending forever with him and being there for him was really all she needed. The material didn’t matter; they were just details that weren’t needed when it came to their relationship. She knew how thankful he was—the endless tears and the constant affection showed her just how appreciative he was and she didn’t want it any other way.

His lips press to hers again, only briefly, before he rests his head back against the seat. He really doesn’t know how he’s gotten so lucky—how he ever deserved somebody like her in his life. She’s his beacon of hope in the midst of his failed and miserable life, and really the only thing that keeps him going through the continuous rough patches.

She’s his absolute everything, and he knows he’d be nothing without her.

“Loving you is the best thing I’ve ever done. Could never love you enough.” He whispers, his fingers reaching out to where her hand is placed on the armrest between them. “Don’t know how I can be without you for three weeks. Not going to get used to it, haven’t been without you for over six years now.”

Y/n’s thought about that, too. She just doesn’t know how to be on her own. There hasn’t been a night she hasn’t fallen asleep next to him and a morning she hasn’t woken up beside him, and she’s not so sure how she’ll cope with him being away for so long.

He’s succumbed every part of her life to the point where he has become her life. Outside of their apartment is nothing but obligations and dead end opportunities, whereas at home—with Harry—there’s everything she’s ever needed. She’s been with him for so long that she genuinely doesn’t know how to be away from him. And although it does sadden her, knowing that Harry will be back in his childhood home is enough to overcome the sorrow in her heart. This is the moment he’s been waiting for and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

She closes her eyes softly as she places her head on his shoulder, making sure to run over thumb over the palm of his hand as she does so. She rubs her cheek against his skin while she lets out a quiet yawn, finding comfort against his body as her body slowly turns to rest.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine, sweetums.” She yawns again, “Nothing’s going to be better than a month back at home. Your inner little mummy’s boy is going to go crazy.”

Harry and Y/n both chuckle at her words, both fully aware that even though they won’t be together for a while, Anne is very much well worth it.

Y/n begins to doze off against his shoulder, which Harry would normally find captivatingly endearing and would normally take it upon himself to admire her as she does so—like he always does back at their home—but staying in his seat is almost too much steadiness for his adrenaline can handle. Despite the very little to no sleep Harry has gotten the past two days, there isn’t a single part of his body that isn’t awake and jumping in anticipation for what the next four hours could bring him.

“Next stop, Holmes Chapel.”


“Holy fuck! This is it, Y/n! This is where I used to work!” Harry smiles broadly, quite nearly jumping in his seat as he points to the little town bakery he’s never shut up about.

Y/n is completely mesmerized by it all. Even though the ride from the airport to his house was no less than forty minutes, she has already seen so much of what shaped Harry into the man he is now. Between the bakery, the schools he attended, and where his favorite memories have taken place, it’s as if Y/n is witnessing the life Harry had before her.

Everything Harry has ever talked about is coming to life right before her, and her eyes water at the sight. Although Harry and Y/n have been together for a little over a year before they decided to move away, she has never visited his home town.

It wasn’t that they were necessarily that far from each other, it was just that Y/n grew up much less fortunate than Harry (and he wasn’t very fortunate, to begin with). Her parents were only ever around at night since they worked all throughout the day. Y/n didn’t have a car—or much of anything, really—so Harry visiting her was really the only option they had when it came to seeing each other.

Despite the slight travel it took for them to be together, when they were together, they were together for a while. Whether it was long weekends or even an entire week, their entire relationship was really only built in the confines of her shared studio apartment. It was enough for them, though, at the time.

So between that year spent primarily in Y/n’s hometown, she had only ever had the chance of seeing Anne whenever she had dropped Harry off or picked Harry up. Sure, their parents had met for a small dinner and Anne did visit a couple of other times, but it was nothing how this planned week was going to be with her. Even Y/n is more excited than she expected to be.

“It’s beautiful, Harry. All of this is beautiful, I can’t wait to properly meet your mum.”

“Oh, me too!” He beams. “You have no idea, Y/n! I just know you are going to be acting like best friends by the end of the week! She already loves you so much and she’s going to love you more after this!”

Harry spends the rest of the car ride talking to Y/n about his life back in Cheshire. He talks about the holidays he spent with his family, all the friends he’s made from school and all the local shops, and even talks about what it’s like at home. She finds him repeating himself an awful lot, as if his brain is operating hyperactively but Y/n doesn’t mind a bit. He carries such a love for his childhood that Y/n envies greatly, and his passion when it comes to his family and friends made her heart swell in an entirely different way.  

It’s when the taxi finally turns into his neighborhood does Harry really start to jitter. His legs keep bouncing, his hands keep moving his hair around, his breathing turns harsh, and the words he tries to speak keep stuttering from his mouth.

“We’re here!”

Before the taxi has the time to come to a complete stop at his driveway, Harry is already swinging the door open and nearly throwing himself onto the concrete. Y/n barely has time to follow after him as he begins to run to where Anne is standing by the front door.

“Mumma!”

“Harry!” Anne breathes out, tears already falling freely from her eyes as she begins to meet him halfway.

Harry’s body crashes with hers, his arms wildly moving around Anne’s back as he squeezes her against him. This is the first time he’s felt her in so long that the feeling of her holding him again mixed with her familiar scent—vanilla and cinnamon spice—is like all of Harry’s fondest memories coming back to him.

His mum is here, holding him, kissing his face like she’s never seen it before, sobbing into his shoulder with words he hasn’t heard her speak in years. The reality of it is hitting him so hard, it’s like the world around him disappears into absolute nothingness and his head begins to feel light, almost as if he feels he’s not really existing in this moment but God, he is. He really is.

He’s hysterical, cradling his mum’s head against his chest the way she did to him when he was a child. The tears from his eyes are falling upon her head and her tears are soaking through his t-shirt but neither of them care—neither of them feel it—because the only thing they feel is the overwhelming relief washing over their worries of never seeing each other again.

“Mumma!” He sobs again, his arms practically refusing to let her go, “I m—missed you so m—much, mum. I can’t—I can’t—“

“I know baby, I know.” She weeps. “I missed you so much, my darling.”


It took them twenty minutes before they decided it was time to let go from one another. Tears were still welled up in their eyes and their cheeks were stained from the fallen ones, and even through the blurry sight from the wetness does Anne notice how much Harry has changed throughout the years.

She remembers him being so much more frail, and the stable on his chin showed no sign of being before he moved. His hair is much shorter now than ever before and she has never seen her son so handsome in her entire life.

“You’ve grown up so much!” She exclaims, her hands pressing against his cheeks as she beams up at him. “Look at you, Harry! You’re such a man. You’re the man I always imagined you being and I am so proud of you.”

But I’m a failure he thinks. He’s done absolutely nothing but fail her and it’s something he’ll never be able to forgive himself for. He was her last chance of hope and he completely blew it. For her to stand in front of him and to look him in the eye and genuinely be so proud of him, Harry will never understand.

He shakes his head, though, refusing to let his negative thoughts get to him for the remainder of the trip. This is such a special time for him and he refuses to beat himself up—especially here, especially when he’s with his mum.

Instead, he diverts his attention to the woman in front of him. She’s his rock, his provider through all he’s been through, and the woman that gave him his life. He hadn’t seen her in six years and now that she is here, he notices how she’s still just as beautiful and lovely she looks—how he always remembered her being.

“But you, mum! You haven’t aged a bit! You still look not a day over thirty, I hope to God I get your genes; would be an utter blessing.”

Y/n watches fondly as Harry and Anne make up all the lost time, their nonstop giggles and soft murmurs the only things to be heard on this quiet part of town.

She smiles softly when she sees them hug for what must have been the tenth time since their arrival. It’s truly a wonderful sight to see and Y/n finds it especially heartwarming. She knew Harry has always been a mummy’s boy, but she never got to witness it firsthand, so watching the way Harry treats her—as if she truly is a delicacy—is really something else.

Y/n carefully carries her and Harry’s suitcases from the driveway to the front door, careful to not be too loud or noticeable to interrupt their reunion. She knows they wouldn’t care if she did, however, but she doesn’t want to break them from their trances.

“And Y/n!” Anne nearly screams when she sees Y/n walking in the corner of her eye.

There’s a gasp behind her words as her hands reach up to cup her mouth. The woman who captivated Harry’s heart and made all of this possible is standing right before her, eyes wide with a wide grin on her face.

She’s as beautiful as ever, with her face all natural and her hair swaying perfectly in the wind. Anne has seen Y/n plenty of times through Skype calls but they’ve never done her justice. She’s as close to perfection Anne has ever imagined and she starts to cry again as she stares at the love of Harry’s life.

Anne instantly wraps her arms around Y/n, who quickly drops the baggage she was holding to properly greet her back.

“You’re so beautiful! So much more beautiful than I remember!”

Anne pushes her away softly to get a better look into her eyes, which are gleaming with nothing but love and admiration. Anne clicks her tongue with a smile, her thumbs rubbing against Y/n’s cheek as she begins to speak.

“Thank you so much for everything that you’ve done for us. This wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you, my dear. And even though my Harry isn’t with me anymore, I am more than blessed to know he’s spending his life with somebody like you.”

Y/n lays her hands on top of where Anne has claimed hers against Y/n’s cheeks, almost as if to hold them in some type of appreciation or reassurance.

It’s calming to know that Anne doesn’t have any type of resentment toward her. Y/n has always felt like an intruder in Harry’s life, or a thief who’s taken him away from his family. Although that’s nowhere near the case, she always did have a fear that Anne would hold some tension with her.

Harry always reassured her that that’s something she never had to worry about, however, it was quite inevitable. But hearing Anne’s words in the sincerity that she spoke, all of the worries and doubts completely washed away.

“I would do anything for your son and I would do anything for his family. He is all I have, along with you, and I always put you guys first. I love him and I knew this was what he needed. I’m more than happy to have done this—for the both of you.”

Y/n leans in to hold her once again, for she has done nothing but bring positivity and love to both her and Harry throughout all the years. She deserves this as much as Harry does—if not more—and she won’t hesitate to keep her as happy as she makes them.

It isn’t long before Anne announces that she’s cooked lunch, which is waiting to be eaten upon the kitchen counter. She even grabs the suitcases before running back inside the house to finish setting the table.

“Not a real home cooked meal without a set table.” She’d always say.

Y/n and Harry are alone again. They’re standing on the patio, watching from the outside looking in on Anne moving in quick movements to make sure everything’s set in place. They giggle at her, admiring her from afar and embracing this undeniably beautiful feeling.

Y/n sighs contently before she makes the first move to go to where Anne is serving the food in the kitchen, but before she has time to even get her foot through the door, Harry’s got a hold on her wrist. He pulls her into him, where Y/n huffs from the unexpected collision of their chests.

“What are you—oh!“

His lips swallow the words she was previously speaking, his hand pushing her head right up against his so that her lips move deeper into his. He’s savoring the taste and embracing the feeling of her kisses, properly this time now that he’s not full of adrenaline.

“I fucking love you.” Harry growls when his lips are free from hers.

His fingers rake the hair from her scalp down to where the ends rest against her back, his eyes staring into her glossed ones as he keeps her close to him.

“What would I ever do without you, my love?”

Pedido: Faz um em q o Louis é muito estressado e ela muito desastrada,um dia ele ta jogando video game e ela sem querer atrapalha o que causa uma briga horrivel,Louis fica sem falar cm ela por semanas,ela fica se sentindo culpada e sozinha. Pra distrair vai dar uma volta no shopping,Louis fica em casa assistindo tv,passa uma noticia de um atentado no shopping,ele fica preocupado e liga pra ela q n atende,ele se desespera mas ela chega em casa,n ficou muito pq sujou a blusa,graças ao desastre,final feliz

S/N Vison

           Louis estava a mais de três horas na frente daquele vídeo game e eu já estava começando a ficar preocupada com aquele vicio de jogos, e eu sinto saudades do meu namorado e de como ele me tratava, hoje ele nem ao menos me beija ou diz que me ama.

           Passei minhas mãos pelo os meus cabelos e sorri ao vê a nossa foto no mural de fotos que nós dois criamos com as nossas memórias preferidas, e de todas as nossas viagens ao redor do mundo. Abri a porta do quarto e parei na ponta da escada quando vi meu namorado jogando aquele maldito jogo. Comecei a descer as escadas sem fazer muito barulho, mas mesmo se fizesse ele não escutaria ao não iria perceber já que os seus olhos estavam vidrados na televisão, tenho saudades de quando aquela televisão só servia para assistimos nossos filmes ou series.

           Pus minhas mãos encima dos seus ombros e ele simplesmente inclinou seu corpo para frente. – Lou, vamos para o quarto? – Ele não disse nada apenas fez um movimento com a cabeça indicando que não.

           Dei a volta pelo o sofá com a intenção de chamar a sua atenção, mas por um descuido meu, senti meu pé enroscando no fio do vídeo game e ele desligou o mesmo momento, se a minha intenção era chamar a sua atenção eu consegui. Louis levantou do sofá e praticamente jogou o controle do jogo no chão o fazendo quebrar em pedaços.

- Você enlouqueceu? – Louis estava vermelho de raiva e gritava sem parar. – Qual é o seu problema sua idiota? – Ele caminhou até mim e pegou-me pelo o braço levantando-me do chão sem nenhuma educação ou delicadeza.

- Calma Louis eu não queria fazer isso eu juro. – Tentava o acalmar, mas parecia que ele não estava me escutando de jeito maneira.

- Eu não quero ficar calmo. – Ele começou a apertar meu braço. – Olha o que você fez…

           Antes que ele pudesse dizer mais alguma coisa soltei-me de suas mãos e sai correndo e entrei no quarto o mais rápido possível e tranquei a porta. Outro fato sobre Louis ele é horrível quando quer. Sentei-me no chão e comecei a chorar tudo o que eu tinha parar chorar. O que estava acontecendo com aquele homem que me apaixonei há dois anos? Para onde ele foi?

UMA SEMANA DEPOIS…

 

        Depois de uma semana depois daquele incidente Louis não abriu a boca para dizer uma sequer palavra para mim nem mesmo um pedido de desculpas, e eu não tinha ideia do que fazer para ele me desculpar, na verdade não devia nenhum pedidos de desculpas para ele, e sim ele para mim.

           Sentei-me na praça de alimentação do shopping com algumas sacolas de roupas nas mãos e tomei o meu suco. Não sabia mais o que fazer em casa então sai para esfriar a cabeça não aguento mais vê a cara do Louis e eu acho que se continuarmos assim vou ir embora.

           Assim que me levantei da cadeira senti algo muito forte tremendo e o meu corpo sendo arremessado para trás como se algo me puxasse. Minha cabeça bateu no chão e outro barulho forte entrou pelos meus ouvidos e algo molhado acertou meu rosto e as minhas roupas, passei minhas mãos no meu rosto e olhei, mesmo com a visão embaçada consegui vê o vermelho so sangue, mas eu não tinha nenhum ferimento ou era o que eu achava.

           Escutei choro de crianças e pessoas gritando perguntando o que estava acontecendo e eu também queria saber o que estava acontecendo. Olhei para o lado e vi o shopping destruído e pedaços de corpos ao meu lado, eu senti vontade de gritar e pedi ajuda, mas não conseguia, nenhuma palavra saia da minha boca e a pergunta que fazia para mim mesma é se era se eu realmente estava viva.

Louis Vision

           Eu sabia que estava errado, mas não queria admitir isso para ninguém. Eu fui um idiota filho da puta, mas não conseguia me desculpar por aquilo e eu sabia que a mulher da minha vida estava deixando-me aos poucos por isso hoje assim que ela saiu joguei meu vídeo game fora junto com os jogos, porque eu sabia que ela sentia falta de mim e de principalmente os nossos momentos juntos e eu estava disposto a tudo para salvar nosso relacionamento.

           Depois de passar horas assistindo novelas e series, a programação foi interrompida por conta de um atentado terrorista, senti-me triste por isso, pois mais uma vez pessoas perderiam suas vidas por conta de religião e isso não é isso intolerância religiosa é algo que não deveria existir todos devem acreditar em quem quiser, mas algo chamou minha atenção o atentado foi no shopping aonde s/n fora de manhã e não voltou até a agora. Passei as mãos nos meus cabelos nervoso e disquei o numero dela varias vezes, mas todas caixa postal.

           Peguei a chave do meu carro e abri a porta da frente da nossa casa, mas parei no mesmo instante quando a vi saindo de um carro da policia. Suas roupas estavam cheias de sangue e ela não parava de chorar por um só minuto. Corri o mais rápido em sua direção e a abracei com todas as minhas forças e comecei a chorar sem parar, isso tudo é minha culpa eu quase perdi a mulher que eu amo por pura ignorância.

- Lou…

- Está tudo bem. – O seu rosto havia alguns arranhões. – Eu amo você e eu sou um idiota, foi tudo culpa minha, apenas minhas.

           Beijei o topo da sua cabeça. – Não foi. – Sua voz estava falha.

- Eu juro que não vou deixar nada e ninguém nunca mais fazer mal a você.

The Boxer

Pairing: Y/N and Harry

Word Count: 10k

Prompt: Harry hires Y/N as his on call nurse and for his matches. 

or 

“You’re supposed to be in the hospital gown, it’s why we laid it out for you,” Y/N stated, pointing the pen in her hand at the white gown by his feet.

“I’m not wearing that paper shit,” Harry grumbled, “and I’m perfectly fine to leave.”

“That cut says otherwise,” Y/N says.

Harry watches as she sets down the clipboard and turns on the sink to wash her hands, she’s cute. She’s nothing like the kind Harry would go for. His usual prey would be at the bar, lonely, maybe going through a breakup, but he knew for sure that by the end of the night she would be in his bed. Y/N on the other hand looked like too pure for him, and he hated that look.

From his experience Harry had learned that girls like Y/N believed that they were too good for a guy like him. Girls like Y/N, with an innocent smile, soft skin, and soft voices, tended to only use him for one thing, to make their parents upset. Harry had seen it time and time again, it was only a matter of weeks before the girl would crush his heart and move on to someone better.

“I don’t feel anything,” Harry stated.

Harry had grown numb to just about everything. He couldn’t feel the punches thrown at him, he couldn’t feel his emotions, it all just seemed gone to him. He didn’t mind though, no emotions meant he couldn’t get hurt, and no pain meant he was unstoppable.

or

Boxer Harry Styles highers, incredibly perky Y/N as his on-call nurse.


“I hate the graveyard shift,” Y/N stated, slumping into the chair.

Keep reading

You’re In Love With Him But He Likes Your Best Friend: Part 2

A/N: This is a filler chapter. Meaning, this is much shorter than part 1. Do not feel dishearted, there will be a longer, more detailed part 3. 

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio.



“Are you ever going to speak to me?”

Y/n freezes as she hears Harry’s voice ask her the question she’s been dreading to answer.

It’s been two weeks since she’s heard that voice. It may sound rougher now, more stern and harsh than it normally is as it growls behind her at the counter of Lexi’s bar, but it’s still the first time she’s heard it in two weeks.

After her sober confessions to a very tipsy, slumberous Harry, Y/n had to understand what it truly meant to move on.

At first, she thought she would still be able to be around him as she searched for ways to rid her feelings. She distracted herself, mostly. She would interact more with Savannah than she would Harry, and even started picking up new habits whenever she felt her emotions creeping in. Anything that reminded her of him was disregarded entirely so that the only time he was able to consume her thoughts was whenever he was near her.

For the first couple weeks, she was holding up quite well, considering the circumstances. She was able to contain her emotions and take her mind off of the raging heartache that kept burning in her chest.

But it wasn’t much long after that night when Savannah and Harry finally became official, and if Y/n wasn’t anguished before, she surely was then. She was forced to witness the transition of their relationship in hindsight. What was once casual flirting and innocent touches turned into secretive giggles and loving hand gestures.

It was as if her heart broke all over again. What seemed to be almost completely mended was destructed all at once. The chase between Harry and Savannah was over, and reality set in that Harry was happy and in love with someone that wasn’t Y/n.

Watching them together was Y/n’s most devastating nightmare, and the thought of that alone meant she couldn’t mentally handle being alone anymore. With all of the emotions built up inside of her, being alone for Y/n meant enduring the pain and suffering she didn’t want to feel anymore. She just wanted it all to end, everything.

The earliest hours of the morning wrecked her the most. With only the moon illuminating the room and the radio silence throughout her house gave Y/n no choice but to be alone with her thoughts. She wasn’t loved, and no matter how many nights she’s tried to convince herself that this wasn’t the end, it was.

She had to let Harry go, completely this time. She gave up on him entirely because she couldn’t keep loving him when he didn’t love her. Not anymore, not like that.

She keeps her back to him as he heaves heavy breaths, eyes sending daggers and teeth clenched from his crippling frustration. 

“It’s Thursday, I see,” Harry grumbles before giving her the chance to answer, jaw locked as his fingers grip harshly around a stray, unfinished glass of alcohol. “You never work Thursdays. ’S this where your Friday shifts went?”

There’s an unpleasantly rough tone in his voice that makes Y/n’s breath hitch in her throat. She’s never witnessed this side of him, filled with anger and exasperation. He’s always been so soft and gentle, never having the heart to speak down to someone. But here he is, eyes dark with anger and words spewing venomously from his lips.

And as much she hates to admit it, she can’t blame him for being so angry with her. She knows she means the most to him—even if it’s not in a romantic sense—she’s become such an important part of his life. Ever since they met, she took in the truth about his past, understood the feelings and thoughts he’s carried all through his years, and was able to provide him with anything she was able to when he needed her most. She was one of the very few people he trusted and felt most comfortable with in his life. She was irreplaceable, he’d always tell her, nobody could compare to her. She meant everything.

And then, she left him. She distanced herself so far away from him until it was as if she was never apart of his life. She ignored him and all his attempts to reach out to her again. It hurt her tremendously, knowing that what they had together was completely and utterly helpless, but she never questioned how Harry felt about it. She did what was easiest for her and never thought about it twice. She left him so that he can be happy, but as he stands so tensely and confused before her, she can’t help but blame herself what’s happened between them.

She nods her head softly, still refusing to look up at him as she gathers all the used glasses in front of her, making herself seem distracted so she doesn’t have to make much effort into speaking to him.

“I—uh, yeah. Friday nights were getting hectic and I couldn’t keep up with the late hours. I thought Savannah told you.”

It’s a lie. A shitty, impulsive lie that Harry almost finds humorous. Of course, Y/n switched her Friday night shift. She felt as if she had no choice. She couldn’t bare to look at him with Savannah another goddamn second, and he thought of spending Friday nights with Harry without being alone with him and going to the 24-hour movie theater together was enough to make her sick to her stomach.

“She did,” he clicks his tongue, eyes narrowing as he watches her scramble around the bar, “didn’t have to, though. I knew she was lying.”

Y/n’s actions halt for a moment, a feeling of dread flowing in her veins before she goes back to cleaning off the bar, disregarded his statement completely.

Harry knows Y/n’s been avoiding him, she hasn’t exactly made it as subtle as she thought. Their entire friendship changed, and Harry knows he wasn’t the one ruining it.

The morning after Y/n drove Harry back from the bar, all he could really remember clearly was falling asleep with Y/n. There were other bits he remembered, but that was really the only moment that came to him when he woke up. And he was confused when he woke up alone because, in all honesty, he was looking forward to waking up next to her. It was all his drunk mind thought of, and that terrified him.

When Y/n started distancing herself from him, Harry kept wondering what he had done wrong. She was fine with Savannah, keeping up with their lives as usual. But she was different with Harry—closed off, in a way, and it made him feel something he’s never felt in his life before.

He was confused, to say the least. Because when he was kissing down the bare chest of the woman of his dreams, he couldn’t stop daydreaming about Y/n, and how he hasn’t heard her voice and how he hasn’t felt her in so long.

He had Savannah wrapped around his finger, yet he still felt as if everything about it was wrong. He changed when Y/n left him, because even when he was around the most loving company, he felt alone.

He was helpless. As much as he tried to love Savannah, Y/n was always in the back of his head. She was there, all the time, trapped in his mind with no escape route. 

At first, he was confused—upset and lost without Y/n. He didn’t know life without her would feel so lonely, so empty and incomplete. It was strange, not knowing how to live his life without her. He’d never expected her disappearance to be such a hindrance to him, but it was. Oh, how it was.

Then, he was angry—angry because as many times as he tried to get her to speak to him again, she never came back. She was gone, forever.

Now, he’s hurt. So damaged by her leaving his side, so incomplete and destroyed without her with him anymore. His heart is heavy with sadness and he couldn’t let himself feel this way anymore. 

He needs her, no matter how wrong and pathetic it sounds, he needs her. 

“So you gonna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me, or am I gonna have to force it out of you?” he seethes, nose flaring as he tries to steady his uneven breath.

Y/n shakes her head ignorantly, a flash on innocence in her eyes as she does so. But she damn knows well what he’s talking about, and her oblivion drives him crazy.

“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking ab—“

“Oh, fuck off with it!” Harry spits, slamming his closed fist down on the wooden counter.

He doesn’t seem to care about how sudden the bar falls silent, or the glisten of fear in Y/n’s eyes when she finally looks up at him. All he can seem to care about is how much pain he feels, all over. All he can think about is how now, after the last two weeks of not being able to understand why he cares so goddamn much, he’s finally able to feel some sense of sanity being in front of her now.

“You know what you’re doing to me, Y/n! You know damn fucking well what you’re fucking doing and—“

“Harry, please.” Y/n whispers and she isn’t sure as to whether or not she’s begging him to lower his voice or begging for him to understand.

“And it’s not fair!” he cries out, tears of frustration overflowing from his eyes as he grips tightly onto his hair.

His breaking point is approaching, he feels it. He feels it with every breath he takes and every word that emits from his mouth. His heart twists and breaks as he expresses every feeling that’s been consuming him for the past two weeks. He needs her to know what she’s doing to him, needs her to know how he feels in this moment.

“I did nothing to you and you keep pushing me away and that’s not fair because I don’t know how to live without you. Isn’t that something?! I don’t know what to do without you, and you know that!”

Suddenly, his head falls in his hands as he begins to sob. Complete heart-wrenching sobs, making his chest tight and breathing shallow.

Y/n reaches her hand out for him, her fingers clasping harshly around his wrist. Her own eyes start to brim with tears as she watches him sob below her, his body shaking with undying cries. She swallows harshly when he grabs ahold of her hand, bringing her palm against his forehead. His lips reach to kiss her wrist softly, quickly refraining from keeping them there longer.

To touch her, for the first time, is every answer he needs. She’s the only one to make him feel this way—she’s the only one to drive him to the brink of insanity and resurface him back to clarity. She has power over him he never understood until now, after he’s lost her.

“I don’t know why it hurts this much, Y/n,” He cries, his eyes squeezing shut as he inhales sharply, “I’ve never been more confused in my life.”

She chokes on her cries as she nods her head softly, her free hand reaching up to rake her fingers through his hair. Her lips shake from their craving to touch him, watching as he weakens beneath her. 

She’s missed him, in the most desperate of ways. She’s missed every part of him, and every atom in her body yearned to feel him again. Whether it was to feel the warmth of him from a distance or to feel his skin ignite her, she wanted every part of him against her. If she wasn’t with him, she was missing him, and craving him with every breath she took. 

Her lips press tentatively to his forehead, her breath fanning through his hair as she does so. The action is quick, leaving just as quickly as it comes, but it carries sentimental meaning for the both of them.

Harry frowns, his heart thumping in his chest. He looks up into her eyes, filled with concern and sanity as she maps his features.

“It’s been ever since me and Savannah got together.” He mumbles, eyes watching her face as it pales slightly at his words. “You haven’t spoken to me since.”

Her eyes flutter shut as he speaks, finding it completely pointless to try and make him believe otherwise. He deserves to know, one way or another, and even if it’s now, she feels like she’s already lost him. There isn’t much she’d be losing now, anyways. He was never hers.

“Please leave, Harry.” She whispers.

She backs away from him, her touch leaving him was like a gunshot to his chest. It’s a feeling he’s felt all too much that he can’t bare to feel again. 

His heart breaks as he watches her begin to cry, her usual glistening eyes now filled with tears of sorrow. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he tentatively takes a step closer to her.

He’s desperate, and he doesn’t care how weak he seems. He’s desperate to see where he’s missed it all along, to know how long he’s been making her feel this way. He’ll never forgive himself for all the pain he’s caused her, for all her nights alone when all she wanted was to be with him.

He could have done so much to change this. If he had just listened to his heart from the beginning, this would all be different now. If he hadn’t been so blind, they would both be happy right now.

“Love, I—“

“Don’t.” she whispers, her voice cracking as she speaks, “Please, don’t.“

She isn’t exactly sure what she’s saying—isn’t quite sure what she’s begging him not to do. Maybe it’s the nickname he’s always called her that makes her stomach twist a bit more, or how he’s trying to make her feel better that makes her eyes sting with a fresh new wave of tears, or how he looks at her now the way he never did before that makes her throat tighten around a sob. Whatever it is that makes her beg, she can’t  handle it anymore.

“I’m trying, Y/n,” He whispers, “please.”

“Please just—“ her eyes flutter shut as she speaks, “just leave me alone.”

Harry lets out an unsteady breath, his green eyes brimmed with red as he watches her begin to sob. 

He nods, because he can’t let himself keep doing this to her. If he keeps trying with her in her current state of mind, she won’t be able to think properly. She’ll be a wreck, more so than she is now, and he can’t find it in his heart to do that. Even if it means fighting for her.

“It’s not worth it, you know.” He whispers, his eyes staring lovingly into hers, “Being with her, it’s not worth it if it means losing you.”

Soulmates

Pairing: Harry and Y/N

Word Count: 1600

Prompt (AU) : Harry took his anger out in sex-and you weren’t supposed to do that. He would go to the bar and find others just as terrible and lonely as him, drink, and then sink his sorrows into anything with breast and a hole were to put it. Niall always rolled his eyes the next morning and say to Harry “you’re a proper dick, yeh know that right?”, to which Harry would lift his middle finger up and respond with, “if soulmates are real she would love me anyhow.”

“Harry when you meet her your life will change,” Anne says, handing him a cup of tea.

Harry rolls his eyes, “I don’t care to meet her. It’s all bullshit,” Harry grumbles.


Y/N was never much of a talker; she had maybe said eight sentences in her whole life time. She wasn’t sure where the fear really came from, the fear of saying the wrong thing, of being too loud, of not being heard, so she kept to herself. People didn’t seem to understand though, they couldn’t comprehend why she chose to not talk, so she was labeled as weird, freak, stupid etc. Then they labeled her as mute (and she was) but she hated that term, she really did, Y/N just hated being labeled. At first it hurt, it really did, but Y/N soon learned to ignore them, she could only really care about what her Soulmate would have to say, and deep down a part of her wished that they were like her, quiet.

Soulmates, Y/N had been waiting for hers for a long time. She could remember sitting in class in fifth grade, when the teacher explained the process. She explained how everyone was born with a mark, a mark that only their other half had and she made them find that mark. Y/N’s was on her wrist, it was small, and lighter than her regular skin color, she wasn’t sure what it was at first, it just looked like a stick. But the teacher explained how the mark gets more detailed as they get older and closer to finding their person, and Y/N had noticed how that mark slowly grew into a small flower, a petal or two still missing.

Her teacher explained how every person was made for the other, and that they would feel their soulmates emotions, pain, negative thoughts, happy thoughts. They were connected and no matter what the other would always feel what their person was feeling. Y/N had learned that her person always seemed to be grumpy.

Keep reading

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 2

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


Growing up, people told Y/n that you could die from a broken heart—that the stress on your heart strings could weaken, and all that’s left is the pain in your chest.

Y/n thought her heart would fail her, rupture all that’s left of her and leave her body to decompose. She believed that, if her broken heart wasn’t going to kill her, loneliness and lack of sleep would push her towards her end.

Moving on—something that seemed so simple yet so impossible for Y/n to do.

When the hurt in her chest and the hallucinations from exhaustion started to become too much for her to handle, she was willing to do anything to help herself. She started taking up yoga sessions, started writing music, even started cooking in an attempt to bring herself back from whatever hell she was in.

She even considered moving on; meeting a man at a bar and getting to know more about him rather than his drink order. But something seemed so wrong about that—something was unsettled inside of her at the thought of being with someone who wasn’t Harry.

The image of Jessica in Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt was enough to haunt her nearly every hour of the day. She started going mental, constantly wondering what they were doing together in the moments she was most vulnerable. She wondered about their love life, their future, their interests. She thought about everything.

It wasn’t until Gabby was determined to mend the broken girl raiding her house, finding any possible excuse to give her a sense of life again, that Y/n found the slightest bit of hope.

Y/n was losing it, entirely, and Gabby refused to continue being a bystander.

Gabby had set Y/n up on a blind date only a couple weeks back, practically begging her to seize every opportunity she possibly can to get over Harry. It was all Gabby could do to help her, considering nothing quite helped Y/n’s well-being since the breakup.


“Oh, he’s just so perfect!” Gabby squealed, clapping her hands before gripping tightly around Y/n’s wrists in excitement. “He’s gorgeous! Amazing blue eyes—breathtaking, really! And he’s so sweet, Y/n! I haven’t met a single person who’s disliked him and he’s such an amazing photographer! And his teeth! His teeth are marvelous! Do you know how hard it is nowadays to find a man with nice teeth? I mean—“

By then, Y/n had dozed off, and it wasn’t for any personal reason against Gabby; she’s appreciated every bit of hard work to help her through the heartbreak Y/n’s been dealing with nearly half of a year now. It’s just that she wasn’t ready to move on, not that she didn’t want to.

It had been nearly five months, which may seem like such an abundance of time to rid feelings for somebody, but did time really help moving on from someone she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with? It seemed nearly impossible. She could barely see herself looking at other men in a romantic sense, how could she see herself going on a date with somebody? Especially when she was still in love with somebody else?

She was biting the bullet with letting time heal her, but she felt that was the only way. Nothing more could help her. If anything, she believed dating would make it worse, if she were being honest.

But the look of excitement Gabby had at the mere thought of Y/n being happy again was something Y/n found nearly impossible to resist. Besides, she had definitely been overstaying her welcome at Gabby’s house no matter how much Gabby’s tried to deny it and has put so much stress onto her that maybe, just maybe, doing this one favor for all that she’s done for her.

“So, what do you say?”

Y/n blinked harshly when Gabby’s voice drowned out all the scrambled thoughts in her head, shaking her head slightly to regain her understanding of reality.

“What?”

“Monmouth Coffee Shop at noon tomorrow. Dan really wants to meet you, Y/n! Please!”

Y/n’s eyes widened, snapping her head up to meet Gabby’s hopeful eyes.

“The Monmouth?! Are you crazy?! That’s Harry’s favorite coffee shop, you know that! Dan and Harry probably know each other, that’s how much he goes there!”

Gabby’s eyes narrowed as her lips pursed, gaze directing toward the ceiling in thought.

“Harry? Harry who? I don’t remember who that is, never heard that name in my life.”

Her tone reeked with sarcasm, which made Y/n’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. As much as she wished Gabby’s negative remarks about Harry were comedic, there was always something about them that infuriated her. She always supposed it was the instinctual aspect of loving someone so much.

Gabby sighed as she reached her hand up to rub Y/n’s shoulder gently.

“Look,” she began, “you’re my best friend and I hate seeing you like this. You’re not the same Y/n I always knew, and I think you see yourself that way, too. And in all honesty, I don’t give a fuck about Harry anymore. As sadistic and twisted as it sounds, I don’t care about his emotions, or how he feels. He did this to you. He killed a part of you and I feel it’s my obligation to help you through this. So, please, go out with Dan tomorrow. He works at Monmouth, he’ll meet you before his shift starts at 1:30.”

Gabby’s arm slid off of Y/n’s shoulder at the shadow of uncertainty behind her eyes. Even though Gabby understood all the pain and hesitation, she didn’t want to see Y/n suffer another day. She just couldn’t.

“Please,” she whimpered, “Dan has been the only sense of hope I’ve gotten to make you happy again. Just do this one thing, please? And if it doesn’t work, then you can blame me. I’m just trying here.”

Y/n coughed slightly, her inability to say no wearing off of her at Gabby’s desperate pleads. It was an opportunity to turn things back around in her life, and if it didn’t go as planned, she really didn’t have anything more to lose.

She nods her head softly.

“Yeah—yeah, okay. I’ll meet him.”

Maybe this would be good for her.


Dan is lovely, always caring for Y/n and making sure she feels like loyalty whenever she’s around. He puts her first, in everything, and made a rule that the date can’t end until I hear you laugh at least six times.

It’s cute, really, how effortless he is at giving someone so much attention. Y/n likes it—loves it, even, but it still never feels right to her. She sees something with him, but nothing long term, not in the way she sees Harry.

But he’s good for her now, when she’s at her worst and needs someone to be there for her. He’s able to provide her with the company she desperately needs in order to cure the possible fatalities that came with her broken heart.

“Thank you for the coffee, it was great.” Y/n smiles softly, her cheeks blushing slightly as she traces the rim of her coffee cup.

It’s nearly their tenth date, and they still meet at the Monmouth at noon before his shift. It’s become a routine for them, meeting together at noon before Dan drops her off at the parking station. It became something they both looked forward to throughout their week, and soon became more of a tradition between them.

Dan grins, almost instinctively wrapping his arms around Y/n’s shoulders so that her head makes rest on his chest. He sighs, pressing a small kiss to the top of her head before resting his chin where his lips once were.

“Of course. I’ll be getting out at around 6 o‘clock so maybe I can stop by for a few? Maybe watch a movie?”

He knows the answer before she says it—his constant attempts to get closer to her always seeming to fail. There’s always a hesitation, or always an excuse to prevent them from being alone together.

He’s well aware that there are parts of her that need to be fixed, still being completely destructed by her ex-lover. He’s tried tirelessly to get her to open up and to trust him, but there’s a thick barrier still in their way of each other. It disheartens him, to know she refuses to let him in.

She sighs, guilt evident in her breath as she softly pushes away from him.

She does that often, he’s noticed it.

She feels horrible for doing so every time. Everything between them has remained stagnant, nothing being built so that nothing could be knocked down. It’s not that Y/n doesn’t trust him, it’s that Y/n doesn’t trust herself. She’s still in love with someone else, and she can’t hurt Dan—not in that way.

“I think I’m just going to—“

“Yeah, I know.” Dan nods, arms moving to cross at his chest, “I get it. Just like every other time.”

Y/n reaches her shaking fingers to brush her hair behind her ear, guilt flashing in her eyes as she refuses to meet his gaze. She’s familiar with the look he has on his face well enough to know he’s upset again, being constantly shut down by her.

“I’m so sorry, Dan.” She whispers, “But I’m trying. I want to keep trying with you. If you let me.”

He looks unconvinced, as he’s been hearing this for a while now. But something inside of him can’t quit her, no matter how much his intuition tells him she’s a dead end. Maybe he feels sorry for her on a level he’s never felt sorrow for somebody else. No matter how much she hides it, she really does need him. Not in a romantic level, but she does need him to show her that he cares for her and that he’ll always be there. She needs that sense of security, and he’s the only one that can provide it for her.

“Yeah,” he nods, “we can keep trying. It’s okay, I’m here for you.“


Harry had been living in his studio for the past couple of weeks. It certainly wasn’t ideal, but it was much better than sleeping on his and Y/n’s bed—alone.

That’s all he’s felt since their break up—lonely. It’s quite strange, considering Harry had millions of supporters, an entire band throughout his solo career, and producers around him nearly every hour of the day. He used to complain that he never had alone time anymore, that between all the constant traveling and being at the peak of his career, it was hard to find time for himself.

But now, in the midst of everything happening in his life, he wishes to feel that sort of hustle again.

Y/n was the person that kept him grounded through everything. She was the one consistency in his life, which gave him all the more reasons to love her. Whenever he was overwhelmed with the pressure put on him, or feeling homesick during his travels, she was always the one to keep him at bay and give him a sense of clarity.

Home hadn’t become a house, instead, Y/n’s heart. Wherever she was, he felt at home. Even when she was half way across the world, it was her voice that brought him back and reminded him that, no matter how much he missed the walls of familiarity, home was always a phone call away. She gave him that sense of comfort everywhere she went, it was truly amazing.

And when he broke up with Y/n, he didn’t think of how much everything around him would be affected. He thought time would do them best—would help mend the relationship that seemed to be collapsing beneath their feet. Their connections were lost, replaces by uncomfortable silences and unbarring arguments.

He didn’t think of the consequences when he did it. He didn’t think about how lost he’d become, or how he had no place to call home, or how there was no consistency in his life anymore. There were so many aspects of his life that Y/n had given him—so much of them that he didn’t realize until she moved out.

It was the exact reason he started dating Jessica. She was a great distraction, a beautiful woman to take his mind off of everything.

They weren’t much of anything. Nothing about them was exclusive besides what the media saw of them: boyfriend and girlfriend moving in together in London. It was far from the truth, really. He was with her to terminate his dry spell and rid his loneliness, and she was with him because he infatuated her.

He ended it all, though, that same morning Y/n found Jessica wearing their shirt. The entire incident gave him a realization; that nobody could fill his void like Y/n did.

The fear of losing her forever and making her believe he was in love with somebody else was enough to break him out of his selfish ways. She had been waiting for him for months, and when he returned, he wasn’t the same man he was.

Not only did Harry know that Y/n lost all her faith in him—he lost all faith in himself, as well.


“I’m so screwed, Nick. I fucked up everything. Everything.”

Harry was laying with his back flat against the studio couch, hands rubbing down his face as he tried to steady his harsh breathing.

It was just after he had run into Y/n at the grocery store, where she had seen Jessica wearing Harry and Y/n’s t-shirt. Although he was practically mute during the encounter, everything hit him at once after Y/n and Gabby walked out.

He called Nick in a hurry, incoherent and completely disoriented from the tears he’d broken down into. Everything he thought would be mended completely fell down on them—all because of him.

“Jessica was wearing the shirt with the—fuck, you know the shirt, and Y/n saw and she was such a mess, Nick. I didn’t even say anything to her, she was practically begging me to say something and I didn’t say a word.”

Nick sat cross-armed on one of the chairs, directly across from Harry. He wished he could have felt remorse seeing Harry in such distress, however, he never agreed with Harry’s actions and made it clear numerous times. In his eyes, this was karma’s ticking time bomb.

“You tend to be a real jackass sometimes, you know that?”

Harry lifted himself up so that he could sit properly. His body slumped against the back of the couch, head rested in his palm as he coughed uncomfortably at Nick’s choice of words.

“You let go of the best thing that’s ever happened to you and then you just move on, as if she meant nothing, and you think you just fucked it all up now? Over the goddamn t-shirt?”

Harry scowled at him.

“I haven’t moved on, and it’s more than just a t-shirt, you know that. That was ours.” Harry defended, glaring over at his direction.

“So why was Jessica wearing it after you fucked her on the bed you and Y/n shared every night for the past three years?”

Something about Nick’s words gave Harry a foul taste in his mouth. As much as he wished Nick didn’t say it in that way, that’s exactly what Harry did, and knowing he had to live with that for the rest of his life made his stomach flip inside of him.

He really did fuck it up. Nothing he did was excusable, nothing he did was forgivable. He betrayed the one woman he loved so dearly—the one woman he’d always consider his soulmate. He really, really fucked it up.

He gulped as he tried to find words to justify himself. There was really nothing he could say.

“She—she had just put it on while I was sleeping and when—when I noticed she just wouldn’t shut up about breakfast and I couldn’t just be like ‘Hey, Jess, could you take off that shirt? That belonged to me and my ex-girlfriend and I don’t appreciate it?’ How could I do that?”

He sighed, leaning his face into the palm of his hands as he looked back onto his experiences with Jessica. Was it all worth it? Was she really worth all of this?

“She means nothing to me, Nick. I lost the girl I love for somebody who doesn’t mean anything to me.” He whispered, “How do I live knowing that?”


It’s nearly two in the afternoon when Harry finally decides to leave his studio. He’s been working on some songs he found himself writing during his free time, something he found therapeutic throughout the past couple of months.

Recording and writing have become the only distractions that seem to work for Harry. Everything else became temporary. Writing out his emotions and singing the words he wishes he could say has been the only sense of closure he’s had in a while.

“Dan! Long time no see!” Harry smiles when he enters Monmouth, a familiar face being something he finds so relieving.

Dan looks up from his register, reaching over the counter to give Harry a hug as he greets him enthusiastically.

“Haven’t seen you in quite a while. On your lunch break?”

Harry nods as his eyes squint, reaching for the back of his neck as he reads over the menu.

“Yeah, kind of in a hurry today if you don’t mind. Can I just get a medium coffee with almond milk, please? And a slice of apple pie, feeling kind of brisk today.”

Dan works his fingers across the cash register, yelling out his order to the barista before making small talk about the weather. Considering Harry hasn’t been seen in Monmouth nearly as much as he used to, they both found it nice to catch up with each other for the short while they’ve been distanced.

When Dan reaches over to give Harry his spare change, an all too familiar silver ring catches his attention immediately. At first glance, he swears his heart stopped beating.

There’s no way, there’s just no way that could be the ring Harry gave to Y/n. Dan and Y/n have never met before, considering she had only visited here a handful of times during Harry’s lunch break. And even then, she would just stand patiently by the door while Harry waited to retrieve his order.

There’s just no way, but the top of the rose has a particular rust on it that resembles Harry’s perfectly—and no matter how long it’s been since he’s seen it, he’ll never forget what it looks like.

Harry’s hand grips onto Dan’s wrist instead of reaching out to grab the spare change laying upon his palm, flipping over his hand to inspect the silver ring snug almost too perfectly around his finger. He’s aggressive, movements harsh and face tight with anger, but at this point in time, the last thing Harry’s worried about is Dan’s slightly intimidated composure.

“Where did you get this?”

Unlike his demeanor, his voice is soft and breaking between each word. There’s an unrecognizable shift in his eyes when he sees the wear and tear Harry knows he caused before gifting it to Y/n. This is most definitely his, and knowing Y/n was the one who gave it to him makes him nearly throw up all the contents in his stomach.

“Girlfriend gave it to me,” Dan smiles “well, not really my girlfriend yet. But you know how they are. I told her I liked it and she insisted I have it.”

Harry swallows the lump in his throat, making him nearly whimper when he opens his mouth to speak.

He’s never felt so much pain before. The breaking that was once only in his heart spread like wildfire across every bone and ligament in his body. It burns, the sudden realization that Y/n has a boyfriend, that Y/n is no longer going to be there—waiting for him—the way he always expected her to be, that Y/n has taken it upon herself to seek revenge on him so that he can feel everything she felt that one Sunday morning at the grocery store.

And it’s then he realizes that this is nothing compared to everything he’s put her through. In his favor, this is just a stupid ring her gave her for her birthday because he loved the way she twisted it around his finger. It didn’t have much value between them, just something small they shared. He couldn’t imagine the hurt he would have now, standing her, if Dan were wearing their Lover t-shirt.

“Wh—What’s her name?”

His voice is in a whisper now, only the slightest bit of hope draining from his body when he hears Dan speak again.

“Y/n. She’s a good girl, you’d like her.”

Harry almost laughs. You’d like her. He has no idea, he’s in love with her.

It’s as if every part of Harry’s body begins to shut down. Maybe it’s from the shock, or the overbearing pain he feels in his chest, but he suddenly begins to feel lightheaded. His muscles turn numb and all his orientation seems to scramble as if he’s intoxicated.

Dan’s eyes narrow when he sees all the color drain from his face, his eyes widened and soaked with tears. He watches as he nearly falls backward, only to balance himself with his foot when he takes a proper step away from the counter.

“Harry? Harry, you alright?”

Never fucking say my name again is the first proper thought that his brain can register. But his throat is tight and his tongue is numb. He attempts to take a breath of air, but he feels like his lungs are collapsing in his chest, preventing him from doing anything besides stumble uncoordinatedly out of the Monmouth doors.

He’s falling apart—that’s exactly what it feels like. He feels like every limb is falling from his body as he walks towards his car. He doesn’t know exactly how he’s moving, even if he’s stumbling on his own two feet and colliding into stranger’s bodies as he does so, he doesn’t understand how his body finds the strength to keep moving.

Y/n moved on. Y/n’s dating Dan. Y/n gave his ring to him. It’s all over, everything is over.

“No” he mumbles frantically, jealously flowing in his veins, chest heaving from the sobs that are threatening to spill out of him, “no, no no no.”

He starts to wonder where he’s missed it, and exactly how long it’s been since Y/n moved on. She was so broken at the grocery store the other week; what could have possibly altered her feelings that quickly? Did Dan really impact her that much?

But that’s his girl. Y/n is his girl, she’s the one he was so sure he was going to spend the rest of his life with. Even with Jessica, even with everything that’s happened, Y/n is his soulmate, and there isn’t anything in the world that can convince him otherwise.

Nobody is going to take her from him. He refuses to believe she belongs to somebody that isn’t him; there isn’t an atom in his body that doubts their companionship.

Before he thinks twice—before he really gives himself a chance to stop himself—Harry slides his cell phone out of his back pocket once he reaches his car. He slumps against the hood as his fingers work furiously across his screen.

There has to be something, at least some sort of proof that this is really happening to him, that this isn’t in a nightmare he can easily wake himself out of. There had to have been a hint, a warning for him to have. She would have never moved on without saying something to him. They were so strong together, she would have never left without closure.

Nothing about it makes sense.

And then, he sees it.

He falls to his knees, hitting the concrete harshly below him. His body gave out from beneath him, his muscles and bones failing him.

It’s there, right in front of him, mocking him and all the shitty decisions he’s made. It’s there—on Y/n’s private Instagram page—a picture of Dan holding Y/n’s hand on top of a table in Monmouth, Harry’s ring wrapped perfectly around his pointer finger.

Steele rose has never looked so good xx.

Eating Out (SMUT)

A/N: Requested by @dopamine-addiction! Sorry it took so long, hun! Also, this GIF seemed appropriate XD

Character: Harry

Warning(s): SMUT GALORE! Also, NSFW GIFS under the cut. Once again, I’m so sorry to mobile users! GIFs used are not mine.

Originally posted by ariana-winter

Keep reading

Summer Camp

Pairing: Y/N and Harry

Word Count: 4800

Prompt: 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? Not helping me with the table or being a dick to me the last month?” Y/N snaps, grabbing a fist full of his shirt.

Harry presses his lips in a line, he’s trying his hardest not to laugh. Y/N didn’t seem like the type to swear and she looked cute when she got mad. Her nose would flare in anger and she would let out an annoyed sigh. Her hand moved from his shirt to his arm and she gripped it tightly (and Harry felt like maybe, just maybe, it was supposed to hurt him).

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” Harry chuckles.

“And you’re cute when you’re not a fucking asshole,” Y/N retorts.

Harry laughs, his grip on her tighten slightly as he lets out a huge and loud laugh, “oi! What was that for?” he asks when he feels a sting on his arm.

“For being mean to me the last month, what did I do?” Y/N asks.

“Yeh did nothing,” Harry says, and he feels Y/N’s hand smack his arm again, “okay-fuck, you’re strong for such a little thing,” he grumbles, “I heard you talking about me to the rest, laughing, saying you would never date me-oi! That’s the last one you get, next one, I leave you here and you can hop all the way up the path on your own.”

or 

Harry works at a summer camp where he really hates kids and people, but Y/N is an exception.


Harry hated people.

Keep reading

“God, you always look so hot” Harry Styles Smut.

Part one

This wasn’t requested, this was just another random creation inspired by the idea of Harry getting turned on by watching you get ready.

Includes: A tiny bit of fluff(?), a tiny bit of frustrated horny Harry, and smut ;)

I don’t know how many parts this will be and I think this part is bad but this will probably be two parts.

Masterlist

please enjoy!

Keep reading

Harry Styles - “Confessions”

I completely left this open(and have already planned) for a part two. So… if you would like a part two let me know! Enjoy! And be ready to have your heart broken.

Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven


Harry sat on the edge of his bed in Los Angeles, his head in his hands, as he tried to hold back the tears and will his breathing to stay even and calm. His phone lay beside him, the screen still lit up to show him his recent calls - the last of which had just turned his world upside down. 

He eventually sits up, letting out a large sigh as his large ringed hands push through his short floppy hair, pushing it back from his forehead. His green eyes look across the room where on top of the chest of drawers sat a picture of the person he cared about most in the world. He stared at your smiling face, his own smiling face next to you and that’s when the tears came. He was going to lose you, he knew that he was. 

Just then his phone began to ring beside him. He dreaded it was her, the person who had called a few minutes before him and broke the news but instead he saw your face appear on the screen and that, in that moment, may have been worse. He picks up the phone, staring down at your picture as the phone continues to ring. 

He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t hear your voice, happy and still in love with him, when he now knew what he did. He couldn’t tell you over the phone. He had messed up, he knew that, and he had to say it to your face. After the phone finally stopped ringing he gave a sigh and pulled himself up and off the bed. 

He had things he needed to do in LA, meetings to attend, interviews to be done but he couldn’t. He needed to get to you and tell you as soon as he could so he called Jeff. He couldn’t say it though, he couldn’t tell him exactly the situation, just that he had to go home - and now. 

Once he landed in London the next day, his hands were shaking, his palms were sweaty and his breathing was shallow as he sat in the back of the car headed towards your house. He kept trying to play out and plan his words for this conversation. How would he go about it? Where could he possibly start? He had so many confessions to make and what he was most afraid of was the inevitable - losing you. He also knew he wouldn’t be able to handle that hurt, devastated, and heart-broken face that he was soon going to see before him. 

The idea brought tears to his eyes. He rubbed the back of his hand against his eyes, grinding away the tears harshly. He hated himself, his entire body was full of regret, remorse, and dread knowing that he could never take this back. 

“Hello?” Harry calls a few moments later as he enters your shared home. He knew you were home, it being your day off work and your car was parked out front but he heard nothing. “Love?” He calls out again. 

“Harry?” He finally hears from the kitchen. He couldn’t will himself to move towards your voice. He wanted to run back out the door to never have to face this situation, he wanted to pretend everything was okay. But it just wasn’t. And never would be again. “Harry!” You gasp once you see your tall, tattooed and handsome boyfriend standing in the entryway of the living room. 

“Hey.” He mutters, barely able to get his voice above a low gravel. He clears his throat and puts his bag down at his feet, sliding off his jacket. He was trying to delay this, anything to keep the truth from coming out. 

“What are you doing home? Why haven’t you answered my calls in two days?” You were full of questions but then in that moment you didn’t care. You had missed Harry so much and if he was home - that was all that mattered. So, you cross the room and burrow yourself into his chest. You wrap your arms tight around his torso, taking in that familiar scent of his cologne while his arms wrap around your shoulders. He buries his face in your hair, his eyes closing as the tears began to slide down his cheeks. This was surely the last moment he would hold you in his arms and he wanted it to last as long as possible. “What’s going on?” You question, looking up at him. You gasp when you take in his tears. “Harry, what is it?” Your mind was racing. What possibly could have happened to cause him to act like this? You reach up, brushing your thumbs under his eyes along the tracks his tears were making. 

“I messed up, love.” He finally says, his voice a quiet whisper as he stares down into your eyes. You frown, shaking your head a bit in confusion. 

“What do yo-” 

“I slept with someone.” The words were out before he could over think it. He watched the gears turn in your head as you processed this. As soon as he saw it click, you backed out of his arms, distancing yourself from him just as he knew that you would. “Please, love, i’ was while we were going through tha’ rough patch a few weeks ago. I was angry, you were angry, I didn’ know where we stood-” 

“So you fucked someone else and never told me?!” You interrupt as your blood began to boil. “You came back here acting like it was all okay?! As if nothing ever happened!” You also felt your heart break, a dull ache began in the center of your chest. Harry was the love of your life, the man you were going to spend forever with and yet .. he had hurt you in the way he always vowed he never would. 

“I jus’…” He scratches at the back of his neck, shaking his head a little as he gave a sigh. He looks at the floor, anywhere but at the hurt and angry face before him. He also noted the fact that your eyes, those gorgeous eyes of yours that he loved so much, had begun to well up with tears. “I don’ know how to make up for this bu’ tha’ isn’t all.” He knew he had to say it, he had to get everything out so just maybe, maybe, the two of you could start trying to work it out. 

“What else is there?” You cross your arms over your chest as the tears slide down your cheeks. What else could there be? Had he slept with her again? Was he leaving you for her? Your mind was racing and you weren’t sure you would be able to handle anymore of this. Harry was your life and even with him standing in front of you still you felt it might not be for too much longer and you already felt lost. 

“She called me yesterday mornin’,” He began, his eyes peaking at you through his lashes as he kept his head slightly down. 

“Okay?” You urged but felt that sense of dread begin to creep up in your head as you surely knew what was coming next. Why would you contact the man you slept with weeks before? There was really only two reasons - wanting to get together again or being pregnant. Your blood ran cold at the latter possibility. It couldn’t be that, it just couldn’t. 

“She’s… she’s pregnan’.” The words pained him to say out loud. He hadn’t spoken it since he heard her mumble it through her sobs on the other end of the phone the morning before. He saw your face crumble then. Your eyebrows furrowed together, your eyes swimming with tears, and he saw your breath hitch in your throat. 

“You got another girl pregnant.” It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t accusatory, it was just a statement as you took to trying to process this. Harry was going to be a father, and it wasn’t with you. This just couldn’t possibly be happening. 

“I don’ know what I’m goin’ to do, bu’ what I wan’ first is to try and make things work with you. Please, love…” He trailed off when you shook your head vigorously, the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. 

“You expect me to just forgive you for this?” You give another shake of your head. “Would you forgive me if I got pregnant by another man? If I cheated on you and got knocked up? Would you be willing to move past that?” Harry bit at his lower lip and stared at the carpet under your feet. He knew you were right, he would probably never be able to move past it if you had someone else’s child. 

“You won’ even try? For us? We’ve been together for-”

“I don’t need you to remind me how long we’ve been together, Harry! I don’t need you telling me about the life we’ve started here together because I remember, I know!” You felt your anger begin to flare up. “It was you that seems to have forgotten the life we have together while you were busy fucking someone else!” He cringes at your choice of wording as well as your now raised voice but he knew he deserved it all. You were of course right, after all. 

“Please,” He takes a step towards you, holding his large hands out towards you, his cheeks wet with his still falling tears. He felt a sob building in his chest as he felt this was it, knowing you would most likely never forgive him. “I made a mistake, I will pay for tha’ for the rest of my life but I need you.” His voice dropped off to a whisper. “Don’ give up on me.” It was then that the sob finally fell from his lips and he felt his knees give out. 

“Harry,” You whisper as you watch the man you loved fall to his knees right there in front of you, his face pressing into his hands as large gasping sobs fell from his mouth. You feel a sob of your own and you take a step closer to Harry. You fall to your knees in front of him and bring a hand up to brush through his brown hair. He lifts his head up, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes meet yours. “I don’t think I can ever forgive you.” You watch his face crumble even more as he takes in your words. 

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers and the sobs resume. He then falls into your chest, his cheek burrowing into your t-shirt and his arms wrap tightly around your waist. You support his weight, your arms going around his shoulders, your fingers brushing at the hair on the back of his neck. “I’ll never forgive myself either.” He whispers through his sobs. 

You sat and held Harry, both of you crying and clinging to one another, knowing that this was it, for a good while until finally you pried him off of you and both of you stood up. 

“I think it’s best if you left.” You whisper as the two of you stood awkwardly facing each other. Harry gives a small nod, closing his eyes for a second. His eyes burned, the tears drying his eyes out but he knew he would probably spend the entire night crying. 

“Can I do somethin’, one las’ time?” You frown at him but he then takes a step closer to you and as his hand comes up to rest on your cheek you understood what he wanted. You don’t move as his face dips towards yours. You try not to return the pressure his lips press into yours but you couldn’t help it. As if by reflex you were kissing him back and bowing your body against his as your arms wrap around each other. It was as the kiss intensified and his tongue slid against yours that the reason this was to be your last kiss together reared back into your mind and you pulled away from him, breaking all contact together. 

“I can’t. I can’t do this, Harry.” You mutter, seeing that hurt and aching look in his green eyes as his chest heaved. He had hoped there for a second as he held you close again, your lips melded together perfectly like they always had, that just maybe you could forgive him. “I can’t be with you, I’m just going to picture you with her every time and I just can’t.” 

“I understand.” He gives a nod, hanging his head a bit. He pushes his fingers through his hair and looks back up at you. “I’m so sorry that I hur’ you.” He stares at you for a few seconds before backing towards the door. “I’ll always be jus’ a phone call away. I love you, with every piece of my soul.” You ignore the fresh tears sliding down your cheeks and simply give a nod. You look away from his heartbroken face and look anywhere but at him as he reaches for his bags and then a minute later was gone from the house. 

You fall to your knees right there where you stood and begin to cry into your hands, feeling like a piece of your heart had just walked out that door with Harry. 

Harry meanwhile had gone into the garage and got into his Range Rover but as soon as he was behind the wheel he rested his forehead against the steering while and let the sobs return. They were loud, chest heaving, sobs. Not only had he just lost the love of his life but he also now had to decide what he was going to do about his child on the way.