do not interrupt an angry harris

Sibling Rivalry

Originally posted by angiesrx78

i randomly got the idea of making up a brother for harry and gemma and decided i should write it and post it now since it’s harry’s birthday, i hope you enjoy x


“You ready?” Harry asked, loading the last suitcase into the back of his range rover.

“Yeah,” I nodded as I watched him close the trunk.

“Alright, let’s go.” He smiled, gesturing to the car.

Harry’s birthday was tomorrow and he and I were going to spend it with his family. It had been a while since we both had seen them, and we were all excited. Gemma even picked on Harry and said she was looking forward to seeing me more than she was to see him. Harry put his stuff in the car and then came to pick me up, and now we embarked on our about three and a half hour journey. We stopped to get some lunch, then went on our way.

After jamming to music and playing eye spy for a bit, which was Harry’s idea, we finally arrived at Anne and Robin’s house. We got out of the car and got our stuff, but before we could walk to the front door, Gemma bolted out if the house and hugged me tightly.

“I’ve missed you so much, (y/n). I’m so happy you’re here!” Gemma squealed.

Harry crossed his arms. “Glad to know you really do prefer my friends over me.”

Gemma rolled her eyes as she let go of me and hugged her brother. “I missed you too Harry, you know that.”

Gemma helped us bring in our stuff, Anne grinning at us as we walked in.

“Oh my goodness, (y/n), you just get more gorgeous by the day.” Anne said as she hugged me.

“I could say the same to you,” I complimented her as I hugged her back.

“Even Mum likes her more than me.” Harry all but whined.

Anne chuckled, walking over to Harry and hugging him. “Now, Harry, you know I love my children more than anything. (Y/n)’s just a really close second.”

Robin walked into the living room, looking nervous but trying to hide it. “Hello!”

“What’s going on Robin?” Harry questioned.

Robin sighed. “I know you expected it to just be the five of us, but your brother is coming as well.”

Harry’s confused look turned in to an angry one. “Since when was this planned?”

“Harry, don’t be like that,” Anne said almost sadly. “It was last minute, but Robert wants see you on your birthday just like we do.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

“Wait, you guys have a brother?” I asked.

Gemma nodded. “Yeah, he’s the middle child and we haven’t really seen much of him lately. He didn’t even come here for Christmas, though he was supposed to.”

“He was in Ireland and couldn’t get a flight out here as they cancelled most of them because of the weather.” Anne explained.

“Likely story,” Harry mumbled.

Anne tapped his shoulder lightly with the back of her hand. “Enough, let’s be nice, yeah?”

Harry sighed. “Yes, Mum.”

A while after that, Anne and Gemma made lunch for everyone, insisting that Harry and I not help because we were guests. Though, she was a guest too, but I just did as she asked instead if bringing that up. Anne said we had about fifteen minutes until it would be ready, so Harry, Robin, and I sat in the living room watching tv. There was a knock at the door, and I could tell Harry was definitely not looking forward to seeing who was on the other side.

“Hello, Robert!” Robin said when he opened the door. “Come on in.”

When he came in I was in shock. He was really handsome. He had short brown hair, similar to Harry’s but a bit shorter as Harry’s had grown out some, and he had a bit of gel in it unlike Harry. Harry didn’t even look in his direction, but Robert looked over at us and smiled wide.

“Hello, baby brother!” Robert all but sang, causing Harry to cringe. Robert took off the sunglasses he had on,which were definitely unnecessary, and looked at me. “Who is this beautiful woman you have sitting next to you?”

Harry looked like he was getting more irritated by the second. “This is (y/n).”

“Ah, it is so nice to meet you,” Robert said as we shook hands. “How long have you known Harry? A couple months?”

“More like four years,” I corrected him.

Robert looked at Harry and I in shock. “Is that so? How is this the first time we’ve met?”

“Maybe because you’re never around, you–”

“Dinner is ready!” Gemma interrupted Harry. I laughed at her timing.

“Gemma! How are you, my gorgeous big sister?” Robert said as he hugged her.

“I’ve been great, and yourself?” She said politely.

“I’ve been well,” He nodded.


We all got some dinner and sat in the living room as we ate, making small talk.

“So, what have you been doing?” Gemma asked Robert.

“I’ve actually just finished up filming my second movie.” Robert said proudly.

“Of fucking course he has,” Harry muttered as he scowled.

“Really? In only a year? That’s lovely!” Anne said, hugging her son. “I’m so proud of you, Robby.”

“Thanks, Mum.” Robert smiled. “So, what have my siblings been up to, hm?”

“Well, I write articles for a site called The Debrief and I also write for Mtv and other websites too.” Gemma told him.

“That’s awesome, Gem! You’ve always been such a talented writer, I knew you’d go on to do great things.” Robert complimented. “And you, Harry?”

Harry completely ignored him, eating his food and acting as if his brother wasn’t even here.

“Uh, he’s finished up filming Dunkirk, and he did a cover and spread for Another Man Magazine, and he’s working on his solo music and stuff now.” I spoke for him.

“Ah, that’s nice.” Robert said. “And what are you? Are you his publicist?”

“Oh, no,” I laughed. “I’m just with him a lot. Plus, he helps me write songs because I’m a singer too.”

“Well isn’t he lucky? He gets to work with you.” Robert grinned at me.

“I’m not feeling well, I’m going to go lie down.” Harry told everyone as he got up from beside me, taking his plate to the kitchen then going upstairs.


When everyone was finished eating, Gemma and I decided to do the dishes, telling Anne to take a well deserved break.

“So, Gem, what’s up with Harry and Robert?” I asked her, taking the plate she just washed and drying it. “Harry seems like he despises him.”

“They’ve had this sibling rivalry ever since they were young. Whenever Harry did something, Robert had to one up him. And he do whatever it took to do it. As you could probably tell, he likes to charm his way around, and Harry hates how fake he sounds.” Gemma explained.

“Wow,” I sighed. “I literally had no clue about that. Or him, for that matter.”

Gemma nodded. “I’m not surprised, Harry never brings Robert up because of how much he dislikes him. That’s why he’s upset he’s here and keeping to himself. He’s probably afraid Robert’s going to take his spotlight on his birthday.”

“We won’t let that happen, right?” I wondered. “I mean, I wouldn’t want Harry’s day to be anything but amazing.”

“I feel the same way,” She agreed. “We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t happen.”


Soon after, Gemma and I were finished and the dishes were put away. She made tea for us both, offering some to Anne and Robin, but they said they said they were going to bed. We sat and talked in the kitchen for a while, then right when Gemma said she was going to bed as well, Robert came in.

“You going to bed, Gem?” Robert asked her.

“Yeah, I’m tired from traveling and everything.” She told him.

“Alright, well goodnight,” He said as he hugged her.

“Goodnight,” She said back, going upstairs.

“So, what is a stunning girl like you doing hanging around with a guy like my brother?” He asked me, making me raise my eyebrows.

“Um, I’m not sure what you mean by that.” I lied.

He chuckled. “What I meant is, what do you see in him exactly?”

I gave him a look. “Excuse me?”

He sighed. “Look, all I’m trying to say is, if you’re trying to be with Harry then don’t bother. There are guys out there than can treat you much better than he can. Like me, for example.” I just stood there in shock. “Go out with me, and I’ll prove it to you.”

“Why the hell am I not surprised?”

I sighed in relief as Harry walked into the kitchen, a smug but angry look on his face.

“You know, (y/n) and I are actually together, but if we weren’t, there’s no chance in hell she’s do anything with you.” Harry slighted.

Robert laughed. “Really? Because she was about to agree to go on a date with me before you rudely interrupted us.”

“Cut the shit,” Harry spat. “I heard the whole thing, and she didn’t seem the least bit interested in you. And why would she be? You’re nothing but a dickhead that kisses ass to get what you want, and the only reason you try your damnedest to beat me at everything is because of how jealous you are of me.”

Robert scoffed. “Me? Jealous of you? Please, it’s you that’s jealous, Harry. You’ve always wanted what I had, ever since we were kids.”

“Really? Is that why you’re trying to flirt with my girlfriend? Because I want what you have?” Harry crossed his arms, waiting for Robert to reply.

“Look,” I spoke up. “Think we should all just go to bed, arguing isn’t going to solve anything.”

“No, actually, Robert was about to leave.” Harry countered.

Robert gave Harry a look. “And what makes you think I’m going to do that?”

“Because if you don’t we’ll have a big problem.” Robin said as he, Gemma, and Anne all came in. Robert looked at everyone in shock.

“I cannot believe you,” Anne said disappointingly. “How dare you treat Harry and (y/n) this way. You should be ashamed.”

Robert started to look sad, but then a slightly angry look appeared on his face. “And everyone wonders why I never come around anymore.”

“That’s your own damn fault and no one else’s,” Harry glared  at him. “Now, get your things and go.”


The next morning, I came downstairs and saw Harry helping Anne with breakfast, Gemma and Robin drinking coffee and talking. I quietly walked up behind Harry and hugged him.

“Happy birthday!” I cheered.

He laughed, turning around and hugging me properly. “Thanks, lovely.”

“So, um, I have a question.” I said.

“Shoot,” He grinned.

“Why did you say I was your girlfriend last night?” I watched as he started to blush.

“Oh, I just said that so he’d, uh, leave you alone.” He shrugged.

“Sure.” I drawled out.

“Why else would I have done it?” He messed with his hair.

“I don’t know,” I said putting my finger on my chin. “Maybe, because you like me?” Robin, Gemma, and Anne tried to hold in their laughter.

Harry hesitated. “Well what if I do?”

“Then, maybe we should do something about it. Like go on a date?” I proposed.

“Maybe I’d like that,” Harry beamed.

“Quit saying ‘maybe’, and just go out tonight.” Gemma insisted, earning laughs from everyone.

“I think we should listen to your sister.” I said as I put my arms around Harry, and him doing the same to me.

“I think so, too.” He winked.


if you want to request something feel free to do so, requests are always open x

anonymous asked:

So, when you guys fight, who can't keep a straight face because the other looks super cute while trying to look mad/angry?? How do these fights end? 😉😉 (Btw, I love how Draco's the flustered one of the two during the NSFW asks 💜)

Draco: I don’t get flustered

Harry: You do, it’s adorable.

Draco: *irritably* I’m sorry I don’t share your enthusiasm for giving out obscene details–

Harry: *interrupting with a grin* See? I can hardly ever keep a straight face when he starts off.

Draco: Oh, I’ll give you straight face–

Harry: Not that this counts as a ‘fight’–

Draco: Oh, I’ll give you a fight

anonymous asked:

Narry!!!

Send me a ship and I’ll tell you…

Who asks the other on dates: 
Harry! He’s the one that surprises Niall by taking him on helicopter rides over mountains and plans long romantic evenings together. Niall chooses to spend his choice for date nights cuddled on the couch with a beer and a movie.

Who is the bigger cuddler:
Openly? Harry. Secretly? It’s Niall. Harry constantly pulls Niall onto his lap, just holding him and breathing him in. Harry loves to slip his arms around Niall when he least expects it; constantly starts tickle wars (or snog sessions) that Niall pretends he doesn’t love. But Niall enjoys the nights where they are together in their own bed the most, snuggled up behind Harry, just enjoying the closeness. 

Who initiates holding hands more often:
Niall, because he likes the private intimacy of being able to hold hands with Harry in the comfort of their home. Harry grounds him, like nothing else, so it’s just so easy to press up to his side, or place a hand on his back, or entwine their hands together.

Who remembers anniversaries:
Harry remembers the anniversaries like they’re his favourite song lyrics, constantly reminds Niall of them weeks, months before they actually come, but that doesn’t mean that Niall forgets. He’s silent in his knowledge, pretending to be surprised when Harry takes him on some extravagant trip across the world. Just nodding whenever Harry complains about Niall’s bad memory.

Who is more possessive:
Harry, because he likes the way he can fold his big hands over Niall’s hips at the club, watching as others frown in jealousy. Likes sucking hickeys into Niall’s neck because they’re together and Harry really likes when everyone knows about it.

Who gets more jealous:
Niall, because Harry is beautiful in that untouchable way that everyone wants, and sometimes it gets a bit overwhelming, knowing that so many people want Harry, even if Niall knows he’ll always come back to him.

Who is more protective:
Harry is protective, more so than Niall I think, because Niall is a person who looks after others before looking after himself. And sometimes Harry has to be that person that looks after Niall, but he loves it, and wouldn’t have it any other way.

Who is more likely to cheat:
Neither ‘cause this is a shitty question and neither would cheat.

Who initiates sexy times the most:
Harry, whether it’s a not-so-subtle bite under Niall’s jaw, or a complete hand down his pants while they’re in the middle of doing something completely mundane, like watching tv, Harry is the one who is constantly trying to lure Niall to bend him over the couch. ;)

Who dislikes PDA the most:
Like showing PDA? I’d say Niall? Neither of them is super comfortable with it, because of the way that everyone constantly tried to have an opinion about their relationship when they first got together, so they aren’t the most affectionate couple out in public. But I think Niall would get more annoyed when Harry is trying to touch him or kiss him, and Niall just wants to run away from all of the stares that are coming their way.

Who kills the spider:
Harry, surprisingly, because if he doesn’t then Niall will just let them live in the house, and fuck if Harry’s gonna’ let that happen.

Who asks the other to marry them:
Niall tries, but Harry thinks that it’s not fair that only one of them get to propose, so he does it as well a few days later, just in the quiet atmosphere of their living room, unlike the private, romantic dinner on the pier where Niall decided to pull out his ring the first time. (Niall secretly loves Harry’s ridiculous quirks, but pretends to be annoyed when his long emotional proposal speech is interrupted by Harry, who wants to do this proposal thing his way too, and Niall tries to be angry, he really, truly does, but Harry’s pleading face gets him every time.)

Who buys the other flowers or gifts:
They both do, but Harry likes to surprise Niall with experiences, like scuba diving or traveling to Hawai’i, big, grand gestures that they get to enjoy together, and Niall likes to send Harry boxes of chocolates or flowers to the recording studio or set that Harry is in, and then refuse to admit that he sent them.

Who would bring up possibly having kids:
Niall, because they’ve been skirting around the idea for a while but he knows that Harry doesn’t want to be pushy, so he brings it up, late one night while they’re curled up in their bed. Harry is giddy, grinning into the curve of Niall’s neck as he hugs him, and Niall just can’t wait for the joy that their child will bring to them, and to the world.

Who is more nervous to meet the parents:
Niall, because he knows how protective Anne and Gemma are, and he’s not scared they’ll dislike him, knows they don’t dislike him, but is just a bit afraid that they’ll think he isn’t good enough for their son and brother.

Who sleeps on the couch when the other is angry:
Niall, ‘cause Harry is a drama queen when he’s upset and Niall knows that he sometimes has to just let him brood for a few hours. But Harry always wakes up in the middle of the night, still annoyed but feeling slightly guilty about it, dragging Niall back into their room until the morning when they can talk it through.

Who tries to make up first after arguments:
Niall tries his damned hardest after fights to make it better, because he hates to see Harry cry, and sometimes he pushes his own feelings under the rug when Harry is upset.

Who tells the other they love them more often:
Harry says the words more, whispers them against Niall’s ear or screams them out of the window of their car, likes the way the words curl off his tongue and the way they make Niall go pink and blotchy. Niall says I love you with soft touches and discrete smiles and breathy moans, using his actions rather than his words to express himself.

anonymous asked:

imagine the missus being pregnant and not telling h yet, but he says he's not ready for kids yet (not knowing he's going to be a father) and she gets super upset

i had a thought about u getting pregnant right before harry’s single release. it was unplanned and you tell harry one night after working up the courage. at first he’s shocked and pacing back/forth then unloads on u how this is the worst timing. how you couldn’t of gotten pregnant in a year or something. so u go to sleep in the guest room upset but he comes in in the middle of the night hugs you and apologizes and says it will be alright and he’s excited for the baby he’s just stressed out.

These two Anon messages seemed to fit together quite well…

Because she’d be a little hormonal and still trying to process the news in her mind, she’d burst into tears and he’d get so confused as to why that small statement had upset her. Why he’d explained that he wasn’t quite ready and why he felt that now wasn’t the best time to bring a baby into the world because he was so busy. She’d stand from her seat, crying loudly, before turning on her heels and blurting it out.

“I’m pregnant, you tosser! With your baby. If you weren’t ready for kids, you could have wrapped yourself up. You know I’ve been off my birth control for a while,” she’d hiss wetly, wiping her eyes as his eyes would widen and he’d follow her actions in standing up, “we spoke about condoms and that you’d have to use them more.”

“Did everything I just say go through one ear and out the other?” He’d growl, eyes dark as he stared at her with furrowed eyebrows, “I can’t have kids right now! I’m too busy to be here for kids, let alone a pregnant wife who wouldn’t be able to be left alone. I can’t handle parenthood right now! I’m still a kid myself. Christ, we can’t do this! This is the worst timing, (YN). The worst.”

“How can you say that?” She’d yell, pushing his shoulders as he’d step closer to her, “I know this is bad timing but at least have some happiness. This is your baby, too!”

“We’re not even married! Christ, we spoke about kids coming along when we’re married,” he’d groan, digging his heels into his eyes, “how could you be so careless?”

“Me? What about you?” She’d cry, “you’re the one who fertilised me. For god sake.”

“This can’t be happening. It’s not the right time. We’re not ready for that. I’m not ready for it,” he’d mumble, pushing past her and walking into his office, groaning heavily as the door came to a shut, indicating that he didn’t want to be disturbed and that the conversation was over for the time being.

Hours would pass and it would enter the next day, her body curled up on the mattress in the spare bedroom but her eyes staying wide open as she listened for any sudden sounds that would be made by Harry as he went to bed. She’d hear his office door creak open downstairs, then his gentle footsteps as he trudged up the stairs, shortly followed by a sniffle when he’d see she wasn’t in the bed, sleeping and waiting for him to join her. She’d see the door to the guest room creak open, the slither of light from the hallway decorating the grey floor, his figure appearing in the doorway.

“Baby? Are you asleep?”

“How can I sleep knowing you’re angry with me, huh? We promised never to-”

“-never to go to bed angry with one another,” he’d interrupt her, gulping softly as he took cautious steps to the bed, where he’d stand and switch his weight from foot to foot, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m really upset with you, Harry,” she’d admit, shuffling over and allowing some space to sit behind her, waiting for him to join her on the mattress, “I’ve never felt this angry and upset with you.”

“I feel horrible,” he’d whisper, perching down on the bed and carefully taking her hand, “I love kids. I love them so much, you know I do, but, it’s always scared me about knowing I’ll have my own. I was expecting you to tell me something else. Not that you were pregnant. Christ, I let my nerves and my worries take over and I feel like such a dick for yelling and getting angry at you like I did,” he’d add, running his thumb over her knuckles and bringing her hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand, “I’m excited. We’re having a bloody baby, (YN). Someone that’s me and you. That’s so crazy. We made a made a baby.”

She’d smile softly and run her other hand up his back, “can you just cuddle with me right now? I’m tired, and, I just want to hug you.”

“Of course, baby. Of course.” xx

Imagine: You and Harry get into a fight and then he apologizes

Both you and Harry had been feeling kind of off from the time you woke up that morning. It was a gloomy, gray Monday and neither of you had gotten much sleep the night before because there was a loud storm and the booming thunder made it hard to fall asleep, and even harder to stay asleep. So it wasn’t a surprise that both of you were a bit snippy that morning.

“Morning,” you mumbled to Harry when you walked into the kitchen to find him buttering a piece of toast, already dressed for the day. It had become a routine since Harry had been back from tour that you would eat breakfast in the morning together before he was off to meetings and events for the day, and then you’d spend the evening and the rest of the night together. 

“Morning, have a good sleep?” The hints of a smirk creeped onto Harry’s face as he knew damn well that neither of you had a good sleep.

“Mmm, great,” you responded sarcastically. 

“Thought so. So, erm, I know we’ve been planning on this vacation next week for awhile now, but I’ve gotta be at a promo event here a couple days after we’re supposed to leave - I know, hold on,” he interrupted himself as he acknowledged the look on your face of pure annoyance with a hint of disappointment. “But you can still leave when we were supposed to and then I can meet you there when I can get away so you can be there longer,” Harry proposed.

“Are you serious, Harry? Like are you actually being serious right now?” You asked, knowing full well that he was but not wanting to believe it. “Harry why the hell would I want to be in Venice for a few days by myself? The whole point is that we weren’t able to have the honeymoon we wanted because of your schedule! This was supposed to be an ‘us’ thing, come on.” Your mouth was slightly ajar and your arms were crossed. You just couldn’t believe his ‘Harry stuff’ was getting in the way of your time together, again.

“Hey now, you know if it was up to me I’d be there with you the whole time, but I just can’t control this stuff! I don’t think it’s very fair that you’re taking it out on me.”

“Don’t even do that, Harry. Don’t even act like you’re the victim here. Why do you always freaking do this!” You started raising your voice without being able to help it as you also found yourself unable to stop yourself from saying whatever was now swirling around in your head.

“Okay, what do you mean ‘always’?” Harry asked with a stern look on his face, lips pursed.

“I mean your career always interferes with ‘us’ stuff! And you know it, Harry. It’s like sometimes I just think how much easier it would be if you weren’t this crazy famous popstar.” You couldn’t help it at all anymore, the words were just pouring out of your mouth.

“Are you kidding me Y/N. What did you want me to do, just drop my whole life once we got together? Just give up everything I’ve ever worked for for one person? Because I worked fucking hard to get where I am and I hope you know I’m not someone who would let just one person stop me from doing what I love!” He knew it wasn’t sounding the way he meant it as the words came out but it was too late now.

“Just one person,” you whispered, tears forming in your eyes. “Just one person. You’re everything to me, Harry, you’re my husband. But maybe I should rethink your significance in my life if I’m just one person to you.” Harry knew it was bad when you didn’t even yell anymore when you guys were fighting. Because it meant you weren’t just angry, you were hurt. And he hurt you bad.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that I just -” “Stop, just stop. Just don’t follow me, I want to be alone right now. Have a good meeting,” you interrupted Harry as your tearful eyes locked on his wide ones. You backed away slowly and turned around to rush towards the bedroom so you could cry and not have to look at him anymore. At the guy who just said that you were “just one person”. The guy that you would do absolutely anything for. The guy who didn’t resemble just now the man you married. 

Harry was left standing in the middle of the kitchen, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, shocked. He couldn’t believe he had actually just said that to you but he was already running late for an important meeting so he finally grabbed his phone and keys and walked out the door, the sound of it closing only causing you to burst into tears. 

It was less than an hour later when the sound of the front door opening and closing momentarily pulled you out of your state of misery. You had been crying on and off since Harry left, mostly on, but you thought you’d have awhile longer to get yourself together because Harry was supposed to be gone until the evening. 

You looked up when the sound of footsteps reached the doorway, surprised when Harry pushed the bedroom door open to see his eyes slightly puffy and full of tears, his face stained from the crying he clearly had been doing. You sat up when he locked eyes with you, your own face tear-stained and eyes puffy as well. 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Harry managed to say shakily, causing the tears to fall from his eyes as he walked towards the bed where you were laying. 

You were so torn between feeling so angry and sad about what he’d said earlier but also heartbroken looking at the man in front of you. You bit your lip as Harry sat on the edge of the bed furthest from you, clearly being cautious.

“I didn’t mean that at all, baby, of course you’re not just one person. You’re the only person that matters to me, the only person who could make me as happy as you do and the only person whose happiness is my number one concern even when I’m working and focused on my career. I want you to always be happy, little one, and I’m not making you happy and I’m so sorry, I’ve just been so stressed out with everything lately but that’s not any excuse.” He paused to gauge your reaction but you kept your eyes down toward the bed and sniffled when he paused. “I just love you so much, more than anyone and you are so special to me and you will never be just one person, never ever, not to anyone. And especially not to me.” He gave you a slight smile as you quickly made eye contact with him before darting your eyes away again. Harry’s smile quickly faded when he realized you still wouldn’t maintain eye contact with him. “I was thinking that if I can’t find any way to get out of the meeting next week then we should extend the vacation a few days to make up for the ones I’ll miss.” He finally stopped talking, looking at your face for any sign that you would be able to forgive him sometime soon.

“Love? Could you please look at me, I just need to know what you’re thinking. I need to know you’re okay,” he told you quietly, cautiously.

You were staring at your hands now when the tears started falling continuously. “I just don’t want to be there without you, Harry. The whole point is that we would get to be together, just us. Not your management or makeup team or the camera people or any of that, just us. But you don’t even want to be with me,” you broke off, crying too hard now to keep talking. 

“Oh baby, come here, I’m so sorry,” Harry moved closer to you on the bed and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe the falling tears from your face. “Of course I want to be with you, all the time. All the time! I just said things I shouldn’t have, things I didn’t mean, because I was tired and grumpy and I’m an idiot. But you’re my little one.” He knew that was the only thing that could help him make any progress at that point, calling you the pet name that you adored.

You finally looked up at Harry and pouted, the tears finally starting to stop falling from your eyes. 

“Hey, there’s my girl,” Harry smiled a little bit, glad you were finally looking at him again. “Love, I am honestly so, so sorry and I didn’t mean the stuff I said, I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, you are,” you finally whispered, a small smile starting to appear on your face. That made Harry laugh, and it made you feel a little better seeming him looking not so broken anymore, even though you could still see the tear stains on his face. “Just don’t say stuff like that again because it made me feel like shit,” you admitted.

“Never ever ever ever ever ever again,” Harry drew out, but meaning every word he said. “I love you so much.” Harry kissed your cheek and you put your hand behind his head, raking your fingers through his hair to show that you forgave him.

“I love you, I guess,” you told him with a slight smile on your face, causing Harry to laugh again. “But you can come make me a hot fudge sundae now,” you offered, knowing Harry would do anything to please you right now, and the smile on his face told you the same. “Wait, don’t you have meetings all day?” You asked, suddenly remembering where Harry was supposed to be.

“Yeah, but I got out of those, said I was sick. They weren’t very important anyway. You are,” Harry smiled as he stroked your cheek.

“Yeah alright,” you laughed as you both started to get up off the bed and make your way to the kitchen so Harry could make you that sundae. 

“By the way, don’t think you can just call me your ‘little one’ and that’ll get you out of anything,” you told him as you walked past him, a smile on your face.

“Got it,” Harry laughed, following you.

—-

There you go, hope you enjoyed! Feedback/requests always welcome :)

anonymous asked:

I ADORE your writing!! The way you write Harry is perfect! I was wondering if you could do a blurb where the reader and Harry get into a real bad fight and end up having really angry sex?? Thank you, love your blog!! (≧∇≦)

Hi! Thank you so much for your request and for saying you love my blog and my writing! You have no idea how much that means to me. :)
So here’s your blurb. I hope you enjoy it. xo

“Remind me again why we have to go to this party?” you asked Harry.

“Well, we don’t have to,” he replied, over enunciating the word have. “But I think it’s best if we did.”

You let out an exasperated sigh as you slipped your right shoe on and buckled the strap. You didn’t want to go to this damn party. This was your date night. The one day out of the month that Harry set aside just for you. It was supposed to be your time alone, to go out or stay in, it didn’t matter. Because of his hectic schedule, you’d missed out on last month’s date night, so you had really been looking forward to this one. Going to some glitzy Hollywood party just to hobnob with the elite and privileged was not your idea of a date.

“I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me about it sooner,” you complained.

“It slipped my mind,” Harry said. “Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go until today.”

You glared at him, wondering if he was serious. When he merely shrugged, you rolled your eyes. You loved this guy, but sometimes you didn’t understand why he was the way he was. He was overly nice to a fault. Not that he was a pushover really, but things that you fussed over or that rubbed you the wrong way just didn’t seem to phase him.

In the end, you always went along with it. If it didn’t bother Harry, it shouldn’t bother you, right? You weren’t going to be the jealous, nagging girlfriend.

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anonymous asked:

10 please !!!!! :) xxx

Hope you enjoy!! Thanks for requesting, hope you’re well! xxx 💚  💚  💚

Prompt: #10, I swear; if you die, I’ll kill you. 


[08] “Do I ever win with you?”

She absolutely hates this.

She’s always juggling the worst things about dating her Harry. Harry thinks it’s his restless sleeping habits, she doesn’t argue but she thinks the fact that they can’t ever go out for karaoke with friends takes a bigger piece of the cake. (I mean they could but Harry has this damn stupid habit of stealing the show without even trying.)

And it’s fine the other way as well because she’s got a whole list of things that make her a pain in his ass.

But the rough bits never overthrow the good bits so all stays well and balanced. Because she’s willing to give up on karaoke and wake up in the morning beside him (there aren’t a lot of those mornings) and see him with all of the duvet.

But now, she’s sure this bit now takes the biggest piece of the cake. When he’s feeling poorly, even worse than poorly and there’s nothing she can do. Nothing she can do to make him feel better, because she can’t even see him. The only thing she can do is check in for updates because her life goes on as well whether she wants it to or not.

Because he’s usually somewhere else, always somewhere else and she can’t jet off for a bit because she’s got her own commitments. Her own life that sometimes likes to clash with his. Their lives don’t always line right up, match right up but they get through that. They make up for those lost hours or days with the short time they’re given. They know how to make their minutes together (which they swear are shorter than the regular ones) last.

So when she’s putting her key in the door and her phone rings deep in her bag and can’t reach it in time she thinks, typical. Her day cannot get worse. The card reader at work wasn’t reading cards and no one taught her what to do when that happens. And a group having lunch wanted to split the bill across five credit cards. That might as well have been someone asking her to build something for the space station.

But when she called Harry’s number right back after she missed it she decided that splitting a bill between five credit cards is child’s play.

“Don’t get scared, alright? Promise me you—”

“What happened!” She drops her bag to the hardwood floor.

“Just told you not to get scared!” He whines. “Were you even listening to me?”

“You don’t start a phone call like that! Are you mad! Now m’gonna be scared!”

“M’in the hospital for a bit just for—”

“What! Why—”

“Listen to me! Christ you never listen!”

“Keep talking!”

“I’ve been feeling a bit off recently yeah? Told you so yesterday, so m’here now just getting tests done. M’gonna be fine, just tired.”

“You’re downplaying it—”

“M’not downplaying anything—”

“Yes you are! You always do.”

“Am not!” He defends.

“You wouldn’t be in the hospital if you were fine!”

“I feel fine!”

He’s not really feeling fine. He knows he’s going to be fine because he’s being cared for and looked at now. So he will be fine and so there’s no point in worrying her.

But this is what got him into this whole mess in the first place. Him telling himself that he’s fine, putting it off and promised that all he needed was a good sleep and that’s all. And that’s really not all it is, he’s exhausted.

“M’not arguing with you right now!”

“Just wanted to make sure you knew!”

“Could I talk to your doctor?” She asks even though it’s not really a question. It’s a demand dressed up as a question because he will do as she asks.

“Love, m’really fine, promise—”

“Did I ask you!” She asks. “No I didn’t, want to hear that from the doctor.”

“Don’t believe me?”

“No.” She admits without trouble.

“Why’s that?”

“Because you always say you’re fine, you obviously were not fine this time when you told me you were feeling a bit sick yesterday. Now look where you are! Took you two weeks to speak up!”

“I thought it would pass in the morning.” He argues. “Six mornings ago.” He mutters.

“And did it?”

“No—”

“Harry.” She says sternly. The type where he knows he’s only got one option.

Harry is exhausted is what the diagnosis is and she’s seething. Because she knows this. It doesn’t take a doctor to tell. When he comes home all he does is sleep and that’s all she wants him to do. He’ll apologize, say something along the lines of how they should be spending time together. But she covers his mouth before he can continue the sentence, tucks him back in and closes their bedroom door.

She knows he’s exhausted, that he’s fitting so much on his plate until it overflows. And he doesn’t know it’s overflowing till it hits him on the head and he’s in a hospital bed.

But Harry on the other hand just feels plain stupid. Hospitalized for exhaustion. He just needs a good sleep he thinks and he’ll be good. That’s what he’s been telling them but it’s more than that now. He’s just thinking about when he’ll be released. He didn’t hear the part where because he didn’t let himself recover from the flu he had a week ago, just kept going and going it’s come back to bite him. He’s not listening to the part about how he’s dehydrated and exhausted himself down to the core.

And she told Harry to take a break. To take even one day just to sleep and eat properly. Did he listen? No. Because he’s damn stubborn and hardheaded that one. That’s probably why they clash because she’s more of the same.

She knew he was feeling tired and nauseous here and there so she told him to do something about it. She knew it wasn’t normal for him to feel like this, weak and dizzy all the time. And it’s so frustrating on her end because all she can do is shout at him from an ocean away to go see a doctor. But she can’t do anything else. And then he has the nerve to get angry with her when she manages to get his people on the phone and tell them he’s feeling poorly. But that’s all she can do so she does it.

When the phone gets passed back to Harry and he answers she’s silent for a second.

“Love?”

“I swear.” her fist tightens at her side. “If you ever do this again—”

“M’not dying!”

“God forbid one day you will be and then what! You’ll call me a week later and tell me you’ve got a fever and that’s all!”

“What are you on about! M’fine—”

“Don’t interrupt me.” She whines. “You can’t, you just can’t. Because if you pretend that things are fine, one day they really won’t be! Just like today!”

“I didn’t mean to worry you just now. Just wanted to tell you what happened so you wouldn’t hear it from someone who isn’t me—”

“Why didn’t you tell me all of what you were feeling these last few days!” He only told her about the flu a week ago and that he’s been feeling tired. That’s it. Nothing about the dizziness, the weakness or nausea that he told the doctor about.

“I didn’t think it was something to worry you with.” He answers honestly.

She can’t help herself, she can’t help think about the worst case scenarios always. The ones she might not be around for because he’s away more often than not. So her mind goes there without asking for her permission.

“If you die I will kill you.”

“M’still gonna die either way then won’t I!”

She doesn’t care if it’s a cold, a sprained finger or a failing kidney. All of it matters especially when she isn’t there to make sure that it’s just that and not something much worse. It’s different when they’re apart. Every detail needs to be said.

“I wont forgive you,” she shakes her head. “I will but I’ll be very cross, could take me a few days to untangle me from it.”

“Don’t want that.” He shakes his head even if she can’t see it.

He really doesn’t because when she’s cross with him he doesn’t hear the end of it. Mostly because she doesn’t speak to him for a bit. He nearly forgets how her voice sounds and what her smile looks like. So he doesn’t want that.

“No you don’t.”

He hears noises in the background on her end. Shuffling and whatnot.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think m’doing! Packing!”

“You can’t,” he shakes his head. “You’ve got school and—”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do!”

“M’telling you!”

“Harry—”

“No! You—”

“Please just let me see you.” She says and it sounds different. She isn’t shouting right back at him, raising the volume each time he does until they’re in a full on shouting match. And he knows she can, they usually do. She was supposed to keep her voice loud and keep fighting him but she’s quiet now. She doesn’t want to fight with him. Her request which is usually a demand is a an urgent beg and it’s soft.

And she knows by now that when he says no it is’t because he doesn’t want to see her obviously. Maybe she thought so when they first started seeing each other. She knows now that he doesn’t want to disrupt her life. Take her away from her things and her commitments that are just as important as his.

He despises disrupting her things. Taking her away from the things that don’t involve him. Because those are still hers. Those have stayed hers. There are only a few things that have stayed the same for her since he came into her life. And he knows that and he’s wary about it that the time.

He doesn’t ever want her to put her life on hold for him. He doesn’t see himself worthy enough of that and she shouts at him properly for that when he does things like this. Like keep her from him.

It’s nonsense.

He thinks it’s just because of who he is and what he does that’s being a bother. It isn’t, it never is. It’s because he’s feeling sick and she wants to see him. He’s not a disturbance or a bother because of who he is. Every couple feels the same way, puts their life on a hold for a minute to tend to more important things. And they aren’t any different than any other couple walking down the street at the same time they do.

“Ok love,” he sighs. “You win.”

“Could be a bit more excited, you haven’t seen me in seventeen days.”

“Do I ever win with you?” He smiles to himself. He’s just agreed to her beg and now she’s mad at him for the way he’s responded to it. But he knows he has won. Won everything with her. He always feels like the big winner when he’s with or without her. And Harry likes winning.

“In that case, I don’t have to bring the shirt you forgot with me.”

“No bring it.” He pouts.

“Not so smart now are you?”

“Never said I was! You’re the brains in this love.” He sighs. “Graduating soon.” He smiles to himself.  

“So you better be well by then! And alive! Didn’t go through all that not to have you here!”

“I’ll be there. You’ll kill me if m’dead before, so I’ve got to show my face.”

“I miss your face you know that?”

“Really?” He asks, purely shocked at the idea.

“Really.”

“Even when m’a big bother?”

“Even then.”

“Could you pack faster? Don’t hear any packing in the background anymore, you’ve got me excited to see you and—”

“Do I ever win with you?” She says in the same tone as he did. She’s getting herself on a plane, started packing just as she heard he was in the hospital and now he’s asking her to hurry it up?

But she’s very capable of answering that question on her own. She wins everyday with him even when she isn’t with him. Because he’s got this really bad habit of leaving himself everywhere. Everything reminds her of him and he’s always lingering in just about everything.

He stays with you.

That’s probably why he’s so good at what’s keeping him away from home for so long.

“Just bring the damn shirt over.” He grins.

anonymous asked:

A blurb about Harry and his gf driving around and people following him & getting irritated ask? I remember seeing something like that, and I would like to see that in a blurb. I love your writing by the way! :)

this got wayyy super sappy, prepare to wade through some fluff. And thank you so so much bb <3

also yes this is somewhat based on what happened with that girl in the vine a little while ago, but I made no effort to write this blurb exactly as that happened. jus’ sayin :)

You noticed the car following you before Harry did. After the third turn that Harry made in which you looked in the rearview mirror to see that little silver grey car tailing behind you, you figured it out. You bit your lip, holding a little tighter to Harry’s hand that was splayed over your knee from across the console of the car while he drove. He looked over at you and gave you a sweet, genuine smile, and you resolved right there not to bring it up. Harry loved his hometown, he loved England and it would always be his home, but here in LA he seemed to flourish. He fit right in among the hustle and bustle and the vibrant populace, and you knew it was always a big breath of fresh air for him when he landed in LAX. He had told you how happy he was to have you here with him this time, how much he was looking forward to showing you around and introducing you to new people and new sights and new food to share in bed together. You were just on your way back home from a day out shopping and driving around and meeting friends for lunch, and you would’ve rather lost a limb than do anything to shatter his good spirits. Glancing in the mirror to see that small four door still behind you a few cars back, you crossed your fingers that he wouldn’t notice it.

But there was to be no such luck.

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You Try To Walk Away

Harry: You had thought that the charity work you were going to do was going to make you happy, but it left you with so many doubts. Not saying that you didn’t enjoy the volunteer work that you did at the senior citizens home because you totally did, but this time you’d met this sweet old lady who made you think about your current relationship. Usually, you’d just entertain them-sing songs, dance, etc.- but this time, since there were more than enough volunteers you were a little more personal in your duties. You’d spent the majority of the time playing different card games with a couple of elderly ladies. They shared so many stories from back in the day and you were thoroughly enjoying yourself. That was, until she started talking about her deceased husband and love in general. “I miss him so much,” she’d started off, “but, I’m grateful for the time that I had with him. It’s so sad about all these young folk these days. They won’t get to have a love like that. We never used to consider divorce. It was shameful if you did have to get one. So, you put up with your mate, because that’s what love is.” It had warmed your heart and made you immediately think of Harry. You wanted a long lasting love like that with him, but it was the next part she said that really made you think. “Listen here, Y/N. Love ain’t like what many of you young ones think it is. You all are so selfish. Don’t give a damn about anyone, but yourself. You can’t live like that. True love is when you put your lover ahead of yourself. You should sense that your love, loves you more than hisself. And, he should sense that you love him more than you love yourself. If that’s not the case, then that’s not true love.” At the time, you had nodded and smiled along, but that night when you got home you really thought about it and you weren’t so sure about the two of you anymore. Harry was away on business, as per usual, discussing plans for the tour, but you two did have good communication so instead of letting this get into your head, you called him. “Hey, love,” he chirped. “Hey, you got a second? I wanna talk about something.” “Yeah, we just got out of our last meeting for the day, what’s going on?” “Well, I was at the nursing home yesterday and I was talking to one of the old ladies-” “Ms. Jenny?” he interrupted. You smiled, you didn’t think that he’d remember her name. You’d only mentioned her to him once or twice; it kind of made you feel bad that you were calling for the reason that you were. “Yeah, Ms. Jenny. Anyway, we were talking and she told me about her former husband and some stuff about love.” “What did she tell you?” He was genuinely interested in what you were saying and you felt like such an ass, at the moment. Here you were doubting the depth of your affection for him, and he was being lovely and caring and you weren’t sure if you wanted to continue the conversation, but you couldn’t stop now. “She told me that love isn’t selfish. That you should put your lover before yourself. And, she told me that with true love you should be able to, like, sense that the person you’re with loves you more than yourself.” “That’s really sweet, but why is that a problem?” “Because, Harry, I was just thinking about us with that. And, I mean I don’t think I’m there yet. Like, I can barely stand myself how am I supposed to love a person, much less to that degree.” “We’re still young, Y/N. We don’t have to worry about that.” He was putting off your serious concerns and it made you wonder if he was ever going to feel that way about you. “I know that I’m young, that we’re young, but I don’t want to be in a relationship that has no future.” “Are you saying that we don’t have a future?” “I’m saying that I don’t know. I don’t know what to do about us. I tell you that I love you, but now I feel like we’re not truly in love.” You heard him sigh over the line. “You’re making me sad and angry and frustrated because I do love you, maybe not to that extent, but I do. I know I do, and now you’re telling me that you don’t love me anymore. If you’re calling to break up with me over some bullshit that some old lady told you, then you could’ve just said so instead of beating around the bush.” You heard him hit something. The steering wheel you presume. “Calm down, Harry, Jesus. I didn’t say that I was breaking up with you.” “You just said you didn’t think you were truly in love with me,” he interrupted again. “I was just saying that there’s a difference between love and infatuation and I’m not quite sure which one this is.” “That kind of love doesn’t just happen overnight, Y/N. We’ve only been dating for a year. They were probably married for over 50. Don’t try to walk away from me. I haven’t had my 50 years, yet.” You grinned and felt your heart swell with his words. You were going to love truly falling in love with him. “Duly noted. I’ll leave you alone now. I love you.” “Love you too. Tell Ms. Jenny I said hi.”

Liam: A note. You’d left him a note right before you fled last night. Albeit a bit coded, but you felt it said everything you couldn’t. It was a split second decision really. You had let all your insecurities pounce on you at once. It was the fans. It was your friends. It was your family. But, the most damage came from within you. Yeah, the fans always came up with some sort of bullshit rumors, but you were used to that. Sure, your friends were a bit annoyed that you spent most of your time with Liam, but he was your boyfriend and they knew his situation. And, of course, your parents had something to say about it. This was your first serious relationship, honestly, and sometimes they’d like to think that while he was off overseas he did things that should only be done with you, but you trusted liam and you’d always assured them of that. So, what exactly was it that made you pack up a bag and leave frantically in the middle of the night? It was the fact that you felt like you were no good for him. You two were supposed to be influenced by each other, to make each other better people, yet you were still the same clumsy, recluse you were at the start of the relationship. Liam could do so much better than you and he deserved the world and so you left. You had come home from work that evening with everything that happened the night prior fresh on your mind. Leaving him was stupid; you were stupid for leaving him. You should’ve just talked to him about it. You began to imagine living a life without Liam and started crying. You could feel the panic attack building up inside you, the same one that caused you to leave the night before. Immediately, you went to the kitchen to try to find some food to console you. However, upon entering you found Liam, sitting at your table, eating a bowl of cereal, and you immediately stiffened resembling a deer caught in headlights. “Hey babe,” he said nonchalantly once you entered the kitchen, bringing the fork to his mouth. You didn’t know what to say or how to approach the situation and so you stayed silent, watching him eat cereal with a fork. “I was wondering about this note you left me. The hell does ‘iron sharpens iron’ mean?” You opened your mouth to say something, but only more tears streamed down your face causing Liam to wrap his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap. He held onto you and you clung to him as if your life depended on it, releasing every doubt, fear, and worry you had bottled up. Once you’d calmed down, you gave him the explanation he deserved. “I am not good for you. When you’re in a relationship you’re supposed to make each other better, and I’m still that same clumsy, graceless, weird girl I was when we first started dating, and then like I look at the other girls you’ve dated and-” you weren’t done talking, but he cut you off probably already knowing the path you were going to travel down. “Yes, you are all those things. You’re clumsy and graceless and I swear you get weirder everyday, and I love that about you. Thats the girl that I fell in love with. I wouldn’t want you any other way. And, maybe that’s the reason that it didn’t work out with them other girls, ya know?” You nodded and hugged him close. That was the reason you loved him so much and this time you were sure that you wouldn’t leave so easily. “But, if you try to leave me again, I’m gonna find you, lock you in one of these closets, and then set your flat on fire,” you laughed and kissed him and you were alright with that because it wasn’t going to happen again.

Louis: You were about 87% done with him. You thought that you’d be able to save your relationship, but at this point, you were convinced that it couldn’t be done. For the first year or so you two had gotten on swimmingly, but then you found that you and your sassy blue-eyed lover had fallen into something like a rut. It’d been going on for a couple months now. More often than not you and Louis were fighting. Most of them petty arguments, something both of you did, you were sure, just to piss each other off. You two often found yourselves getting bored with each other resulting in you taking on more with your job, leaving you stressed, and he taking on extra side projects in his music career. You two lived in the same flat, slept in the same freaking bed, but saw each other, when both were conscious, four maybe five times a week. Quite frankly, you didn’t understand the point in even being with him, anymore. Some things just weren’t meant to be and although you loved Louis more than life, it just didn’t seem worth it anymore. He only had a couple more weeks until he had to go on tour and then what? Would he even call you on the phone? Schedule a FaceTime or Skype? What would you even say? As all these thoughts flooded your brain, you heard the door open and knew it was Louis. You walked into the living room where he was taking off his coat and shoes and stared at him, leaning against the doorway. You figured you might as well tell him all you thought now, it certainly couldn’t make your relationship worse than what it was now. “What?” he said harshly not even looking at you. You continued to stare at him. “Why are you staring at me?” You blinked as he turned to you. “Bloody hell, I can’t even walk in the door without doing something wrong,” he rambled pushing past you into the kitchen. You knew that he’d make this whole thing bigger than what it actually was. A feisty one he is, always ready for a fight. In reality, he just made your decision that much clearer, so you just blurted it out. “I think we should break up.” He paused his rummaging through the fridge and turned to look at you. “Huh?” he replied, at a loss for words, and much less hostile than he was when he walked into the room. “We should break up,” you reiterated. “Why?” “Don’t act like you don’t know why Louis. I’m not a relationship expert, but I know for a fact that it’s not supposed to be like this. We’re always at each other’s throats. I looked at you as you came in and you were about to snap at me. I see you like three times a week, and you’re not even working right now. I really don’t remember the last time we had a proper conversation. It’s been like this for way too long and I’m miserable.” He looked at you cautiously. “That doesn’t mean we have to break up, though,” he reasoned. “Look me in the eye, and tell me that you’re happy like this. How are we supposed to make this work when we don’t even see each other enough to try to make this better? Louis, I don’t even remember the last time you told me that you loved me that wasn’t provoked by sex.” He opened his mouth to object, but really there was nothing to say. Instead, he walked around the island to where you were and wrapped his arms around you. And, god it felt so good to be held like that by him that all thoughts of leaving him flew out of your brain at once. You began to cry into his chest. “What happened to us Lou?” you said, sobs wracking your entire body. He squeezed you tighter and you swear you felt tears dropping on you, too. He kissed your hair. “I’m so sorry, babe. I really am. Don’t leave me. We’re gonna be ok.” And, so you let him hold you and whisper sweet nothing’s inside your ear.

Zayn: “Who was that on the phone?” you whisper-asked Zayn. “Don’t worry about it, babe,” he dismissed you, turning his attention back to the movie. You two had decided to catch a late night showing of this movie he had been dying to see, and yet he just spent like 15 minutes on the phone talking to god knows who, during the most intense part of the movie. The only person who he should answer a phone call from in the middle of a movie was you or his mom. He’d been doing that for a couple weeks, though. You two would be doing something and then he would “have to take a call” and he never told you who it was. But, you knew something was up if it was just anyone he wouldn’t be sneaking around and wouldn’t be so secretive about who it was. You were going to get to the bottom of it. On the drive home, you decided to give Zayn a bit of the cold shoulder. He was all hyped up from the movie, talking about how sick it was, but you only responded to him with a series of barely perceptible nods and a couple “mhm’s.” As you turned the corner onto his street, you could tell that he knew something was up with you. “Are you coming in?” he hesitantly asked as you pulled up in front of his flat. “Would you like me to come in?” “Yeah?” he almost asked in reply. You got out of your car and followed him into his flat. As soon as you got in, you went straight to the couch and turned on the TV. Zayn sat beside you and cautiously put his arm around you, to which you shrugged off. “Ok, what’s wrong?” he asked, done trying to let you get over what was wrong with you. You shrugged your shoulders and flicked through the television finally settling on a channel, but he turned the TV off and nudged your head with his. “Come on, talk to me, pyaar.” “Oh, no. Don’t try to be sweet to me when I’m mad at you.” You scooted away from him. “What did I do?” “Who were you on the phone with?” you quickly countered. “Is this seriously what this is all about? Who I was talking to on the phone? Quite frankly that’s none of your business, Y/N.” “It is my business. If the same person calls you every time that we’re out and you act like you can’t answer the call in front of me then it must involve me in some way. What are you hiding?” “You’re overreacting. It’s not that big of a deal.” “It’s been happening for weeks, Zayn. And, I’m not overreacting. I know it’s the same person because you come back with the same stupid grin on your face. If it’s not that big of a deal, then tell me.” He got this real frustrated look on his face, and you knew he wasn’t going to tell you willingly and decided an ultimatum was in order. “Tell me who it is or I’m leaving.” “Babe, don’t be like that. It isn’t that bloody serious!” he raised his voice. “Are you cheating on me?” you decided to ask. “Don’t be daft.” “Then, tell me.” He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it instead. “Right, ok then.” You grabbed your purse and keys and walked out of his house. “Wait!” he called from behind you, but you didn’t stop. He caught up to you, grabbed your wrist, and spun you around to face him. “Who. keeps. calling. you?” He paused. “Either you answer or I’m leaving and I won’t be coming back. After what happened last time you said we wouldn’t keep things from each other. This IS me giving you a second chance. Don’t forget that. I won’t be walked all over again, Zayn.” He sighed and rubbed his hands down his face. “It’s been, uh, it’s been Perrie.” “Perrie, as in, ¼ of Little Mix, as in, your ex fiancé?” “Yeah.” You blinked up at him and started opening up the door of your car to get in. “No, wait! Pyaar, please.” “You’re sneaking around my back talking to your ex and you expect me to be ok with it?” “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you. You’re making this more than what it is. All we did was talk. Is it wrong for me to be friends with an ex?” “No, it’s not. I’m still friends with some of my exes, but when you’re going behind my back taking her phone calls, no matter what, it’s suspicious.” He hugged you trying to lessen your anger, which admittedly helped his case just a bit. You really didn’t have a problem with them being friends with her, but it was unacceptable to have a friendship behind your back. He pulled back after a minute or so of hugging you with no response. He pressed his forehead against yours. “Are you going to leave me?” he asked lips in a full pout and you couldn’t resist kissing him for a few seconds. “The relationship? No. For the night? Yes.” He let out a little whine. “But, I want you to stay the night.” “Consider this punishment. You can take this night to think about what you’ve done. Next time you see me, I expect flowers and candy.” You gave him another swift kiss before actually getting inside your car, preparing to leave to your flat for the night. “But, jaan…” he whined again. “Don’t 'jaan’ me,” you said before finally driving away, leaving him pouting standing in his pathway.

Niall: You were far too sweet and far too fragile to live this life. You don’t know why you convinced yourself that you could handle it. You cared too much about other people’s opinions and ever since you started to date Niall your anxiety tripled. Everyone was always expecting things out of you. Your privacy was practically nonexistent. You didn’t even have to be anywhere near Niall to have a sense of someone watching you or hearing the click of a camera indicating that someone was taking photos of you. It’d only been about 3 months and you weren’t sure if you could keep it up. Sure, you could deal with it as long as Niall was here, but that’s the thing. Niall wasn’t always going to be there. In fact, he was about to launch ANOTHER world tour and all you were left to do was sit and wait and get hate. That wasn’t part of the plan. You pulled out your phone, in your completely overwhelmed state, and dialed Niall’s number. He picked up after a few rings. “Hey babe. What’s the craic?” You cringed at how casual he sounded, and you hated how you were about to break his spirits. But, it had to be done. “Um, can you c-come over after work?” you sniffled out. “Are you crying? What’s wrong?” he questioned knowing something was up. “Niall, please. Can you come over after work?” “Uh, yeah, sure,” You were pacing around your flat in the hour and a half before Niall came suffocating yourself with your thoughts, so that when he finally came you could get it all over with, quick and easy like ripping off a bandaid. “Y/N?” he called out announcing his arrival, not noticing that you were already sitting on the couch a little past the door. “Oh, hey what’s up? Were you crying on the phone earlier?” “Quick and easy like a bandaid,” you thought to yourself. “I can’t be with you anymore, Niall,” you said picking at your nails while he was hanging up his jacket, not fully taking in what you said. “What?” he said nonchalantly sitting by your side. “I can’t be with you anymore,” you said looking him timidly in the eyes. And, he laughed. You were taken aback by his lack of concern. “Shut up,” he breathed out through his laughter, then got up, went into your kitchen, and started perusing your fridge. “I’m serious,” you stated firmly, starting to get angry. “No, you’re not. I know exactly what’s wrong, now. You saw that stupid article didn’t you?” You turned your head away from him but nodded sheepishly while he sipped his beer. “You just need to stop listening to and reading all that bullshit. It’s always going to be around. You think if you leave me it’s going to stop? If anything it’ll get worse, you know? At least for the first couple months, but they’ll always talk about you. Just because you’ve been with me and I know it sucks, but it’s the truth.” “You’re about to embark on an entire world and I’m just supposed to deal with this all by myself? Niall, I can’t do that. I’m not strong enough for that.” He set his drink down and pulled you into his side. “Princess, you won’t have to deal with it alone. I’m always a phone call or text message away. I may not always be able to answer right away, but I will answer. Besides your internship ends around what? May? You can come kick it with us on tour. You’re never alone. Now, shut up, stop talking crazy, and make me a sandwich.”

Submission - You Try To Walk Away

I told some of those who sent in co-owner applications that if they ever wrote something and wanted to submit it for you all to read that I would post it for them. So this is not my work this is all the writing of a wonderful and very talented girl named Ariana. You can find her preferences here and her one shots here. Enjoy.


Harry: You had thought that the charity work you were going to do was going to make you happy, but it left you with so many doubts. Not saying that you didn’t enjoy the volunteer work that you did at the senior citizens home because you did, but this time you’d met this sweet old lady who made you think about your current relationship. Usually, you’d just entertain them–sing songs, dance, etc.– but this time, since there were more than enough volunteers you were a little more personal in your duties. You’d spent the majority of the time playing different card games with a couple of elderly ladies. They shared so many stories from back in the day, and you were thoroughly enjoying yourself. That was, until she started talking about her deceased husband and love in general. “I miss him so much,” she’d started off, “but, I’m grateful for the time that I had with him. It’s so sad about all these young folk nowadays. They won’t get to have a love like that. We never used to consider divorce. It was shameful if you did have to get one. So, you put up with your mate, because that’s what love is.” It had warmed your heart and made you immediately think of Harry. You wanted a long lasting love like that with him, but it was the next part she said that really made you think. “Listen here, Y/N. Love ain’t like what many of you young ones think it is. You all are so selfish. Don’t give a damn about anyone, but yourself. You can’t live like that. True love is when you put your lover ahead of yourself. You should sense that your love loves you more than himself. And, he should sense that you love him more than you love yourself. If that’s not the case, then that’s not true love.” At the time, you had nodded and smiled along, but that night when you got home you really thought about it, and you weren’t so sure about the two of you anymore. Harry was away on business, discussing plans for the tour, but you two have good communication. So instead of letting this get into your head, you called him. “Hey, love,” he chirped. “Hey, you got a second? I wanna talk about something.” “Yeah, we just got out of our last meeting for the day, what’s going on?” “Well, I was at the nursing home yesterday and I was talking to one of the old ladies–” “Ms. Jenny?” he interrupted. You smiled, you didn’t think that he’d remember her name. You’d only mentioned her to him once or twice; it kind of made you feel bad that you were calling for the reason that you were. “Yeah, Ms. Jenny. Anyway, we were talking and she told me about her former husband and some stuff about love.” “What did she tell you?” He was genuinely interested in what you were saying and you felt like such an ass, at the moment. Here you were doubting the depth of your affection for him, and he was being lovely and caring. You weren’t sure if you wanted to continue the conversation, but you couldn’t stop now. “She told me that love isn’t selfish. That you should put your lover before yourself. And, she told me that with true love you should be able to, like, sense that the person you’re with loves you more than yourself.” “That’s really sweet, but why is that a problem?” “Because, Harry, I was just thinking about us with that. And, I mean I don’t think I’m there yet. Like, I can barely stand myself how am I supposed to love a person, much less to that degree.” “We’re still young, Y/N. We don’t have to worry about that.” He was putting off your serious concerns and it made you wonder if he was ever going to feel that way about you. “I know that I’m young, that we’re young, but I don’t want to be in a relationship that has no future.” “Are you saying that we don’t have a future?” “I’m saying that I don’t know. I don’t know what to do about us. I tell you that I love you, but now I feel like we’re not truly in love.” You heard him sigh over the line. “You’re making me sad and angry and frustrated because I do love you, maybe not to that extent, but I do. I know I do, and now you’re telling me that you don’t love me anymore. If you’re calling to break up with me over some bullshit that some old lady told you, then you could’ve just said so instead of beating around the bush.” You heard him hit something. The steering wheel you presume. “Calm down, Harry, Jesus. I didn’t say that I was breaking up with you.” “You just said you didn’t think you were truly in love with me,” he interrupted again. “I was just saying that there’s a difference between love and infatuation and I’m not quite sure which one this is.” “That kind of love doesn’t just happen overnight, Y/N. We’ve only been dating for a year. They were probably married for over 50. Don’t try to walk away from me. I haven’t had my 50 years, yet.” You grinned and felt your heart swell with his words. You were going to love truly falling in love with him. “Duly noted. I’ll leave you alone now. I love you.” “Love you too. Tell Ms. Jenny I said hi.”

Liam: A note. You’d left him a note right before you fled last night. Albeit a bit coded, you felt it said everything you couldn’t. It was a split second decision really. You had let all your insecurities pounce on you at once. It was the fans. It was your friends. It was your family. But, the most damage came from within you. Yeah, the fans always came up with some sort of bullshit rumors, but you were used to that. Sure, your friends were a bit annoyed that you spent most of your time with Liam, but he was your boyfriend. They knew his situation. And, of course, your parents had something to say about it. This was your first serious relationship, honestly, and sometimes they’d like to think that while he was off overseas he did things that should only be done with you, but you trusted Liam and always assured them of that. So, what exactly was it that made you pack up a bag and leave frantically in the middle of the night? It was the fact that you felt like you were no good for him. You two were supposed to be influenced by each other, to make each other better people. Yet you were still the same clumsy, recluse you were at the start of the relationship. Liam could do so much better than you, and he deserved the world. So you left. You had come home from work that evening with everything that happened the night before fresh on your mind. Leaving him was stupid; you were stupid for leaving him. You should’ve just talked to him about it. You began to imagine living a life without Liam and started crying. You could feel the panic attack building up inside you, the same one that caused you to leave the night before. Immediately, you went to the kitchen to try to find some food to console you. However, upon entering you found Liam, sitting at your table, eating a bowl of cereal, and you immediately stiffened resembling a deer caught in headlights. “Hey babe,” he said nonchalantly once you entered the kitchen, bringing the fork to his mouth. You didn’t know what to say or how to approach the situation so you stayed silent, watching him eat cereal with a fork. “I was wondering about this note you left me. The hell does ‘iron sharpens iron’ mean?” You opened your mouth to say something, but only more tears streamed down your face causing Liam to wrap his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap. He held onto you, and you clung to him as if your life depended on it, releasing every doubt, fear, and worry you had bottled up. Once you’d calmed down, you gave him the explanation he deserved. “I am not good for you. When you’re in a relationship you’re supposed to make each other better, and I’m still that same clumsy, graceless, weird girl I was when we first started dating, and then like I look at the other girls you’ve dated and–” you weren’t done talking, but he cut you off probably already knowing the path you were going to travel down. “Yes, you are all those things. You’re clumsy and graceless and I swear you get weirder everyday, and I love that about you. Thats the girl that I fell in love with. I wouldn’t want you any other way. And, maybe that’s the reason that it didn’t work out with them other girls, ya know?” You nodded and hugged him close. That was the reason you loved him so much and this time you were sure that you wouldn’t leave so easily. “But, if you try to leave me again, I’m gonna find you, lock you in one of these closets, and then set your flat on fire,” you laughed and kissed him and you were alright with that because it wasn’t going to happen again.

Louis: You were about 87% done with him. You thought that you’d be able to save your relationship, but at this point, you were convinced that it couldn’t be done. For the first year or so you two had gotten on swimmingly, but then you found that you and your sassy blue-eyed lover had fallen into something like a rut. It’d been going on for a couple months now. More often than not you and Louis were fighting. Most of them petty arguments, something both of you did, you were sure, just to piss each other off. You two often found yourselves getting bored with each other resulting in you taking on more with your job, leaving you stressed, and he taking on extra side projects in his music career. You two lived in the same flat, slept in the same bed, but saw each other, when both were conscious, four maybe five times a week. Quite frankly, you didn’t understand the point in even being with him, anymore. Some things just weren’t meant to be, and although you loved Louis more than life, it just didn’t seem worth it anymore. He only had a couple more weeks until he had to go on tour and then what? Would he even call you on the phone? Schedule a FaceTime or Skype? What would you even say? As all these thoughts flooded your brain, you heard the door open and knew it was Louis. You walked into the living room where he was taking off his coat and shoes and stared at him, leaning against the doorway. You figured you might as well tell him all you thought now, it certainly couldn’t make your relationship worse than what it was now. “What?” he said harshly not even looking at you. You continued to stare at him. “Why are you staring at me?” You blinked as he turned to you. “Bloody hell, I can’t even walk in the door without doing something wrong,” he rambled pushing past you into the kitchen. You knew that he’d make this whole thing bigger than what it actually was. A feisty one he is, always ready for a fight. In reality, he just made your decision that much clearer, so you just blurted it out. “I think we should break up.” He paused his rummaging through the fridge and turned to look at you. “Huh?” he replied, at a loss for words, and much less hostile than he was when he walked into the room. “We should break up,” you reiterated. “Why?” “Don’t act like you don’t know why Louis. I’m not a relationship expert, but I know for a fact that it’s not supposed to be like this. We’re always at each other’s throats. I looked at you as you came in, and you were about to snap at me. I see you like three times a week, and you’re not even working right now. I really don’t remember the last time we had a proper conversation. It’s been like this for way too long, and I’m miserable.” He looked at you cautiously. “That doesn’t mean we have to break up, though,” he reasoned. “Look me in the eye, and tell me that you’re happy like this. How are we supposed to make this work when we don’t even see each other enough to try to make this better? Louis, I don’t even remember the last time you told me that you loved me that wasn’t provoked by sex.” He opened his mouth to object, but really there was nothing to say. Instead, he walked around the island to where you were and wrapped his arms around you. And, God, it felt so good to be held like that by him that all thoughts of leaving him flew out of your brain at once. You began to cry into his chest. “What happened to us Lou?” you said, sobs wracking your entire body. He squeezed you tighter and you swear you felt tears dropping on you, too. He kissed your hair. “I’m so sorry, babe. I really am. Don’t leave me. We’re gonna be ok.” And, so you let him hold you and whisper sweet nothing’s inside your ear.

Zayn: “Who was that on the phone?” You whisper-asked Zayn. “Don’t worry about it, babe,” he dismissed you, turning his attention back to the movie. You two had decided to catch a late night showing of this movie he had been dying to see, and he just spent 15 minutes on the phone talking to God knows who during the most intense part of the movie. The only person he should answer a phone call from in the middle of a movie was you or his mom. He’d been doing that for a couple weeks, though. You two would be doing something, and then he would “have to take a call”. He never told you who it was. But, you knew something was up. If it was just anyone he wouldn’t be sneaking around and wouldn’t be so secretive about who it was. You were going to get to the bottom of it. On the drive home, you decided to give Zayn a bit of the cold shoulder. He was all hyped up from the movie, talking about how sick it was, but you only responded to him with a series of barely perceptible nods and a couple "mhm’s.” As you turned the corner onto his street, you could tell that he knew something was up with you. “Are you coming in?” he hesitantly asked as you pulled up in front of his flat. “Would you like me to come in?” “Yeah?” he almost asked in reply. You got out of your car and followed him into his flat. As soon as you got in, you went straight to the couch and turned on the TV. Zayn sat beside you and cautiously put his arm around you, to which you shrugged off. “Ok, what’s wrong?” he asked, done trying to let you get over what was wrong with you. You shrugged your shoulders and flicked through the television finally settling on a channel, but he turned the TV off and nudged your head with his. “Come on, talk to me, pyaar.” “Oh, no. Don’t try to be sweet to me when I’m mad at you.” You scooted away from him. “What did I do?” “Who were you on the phone with?” you quickly countered. “Is this seriously what this is all about? Who I was talking to on the phone? Quite frankly that’s none of your business, Y/N.” “It is my business. If the same person calls you every time that we’re out and you act like you can’t answer the call in front of me then it must involve me in some way. What are you hiding?” “You’re overreacting. It’s not that big of a deal.” “It’s been happening for weeks, Zayn. And, I’m not overreacting. I know it’s the same person because you come back with the same stupid grin on your face. If it’s not that big of a deal, then tell me.” He got this real frustrated look on his face, and you knew he wasn’t going to tell you willingly and decided an ultimatum was in order. “Tell me who it is or I’m leaving.” “Babe, don’t be like that. It isn’t that bloody serious!” he raised his voice. “Are you cheating on me?” you decided to ask. “Don’t be daft.” “Then, tell me.” He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it instead. “Right, ok then.” You grabbed your purse and keys and walked out of his house. “Wait!” he called from behind you, but you didn’t stop. He caught up to you, grabbed your wrist, and spun you around to face him. “Who. keeps. calling. you?” He paused. “Either you answer or I’m leaving and I won’t be coming back. After what happened last time you said we wouldn’t keep things from each other. This IS me giving you a second chance. Don’t forget that. I won’t be walked all over again, Zayn.” He sighed and rubbed his hands down his face. “It’s been, uh, it’s been Perrie.” “Perrie, as in, ¼ of Little Mix, as in, your ex fiancé?” “Yeah.” You blinked up at him and started opening up the door of your car to get in. “No, wait! Pyaar, please.” “You’re sneaking around my back talking to your ex and you expect me to be ok with it?” “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you. You’re making this more than what it is. All we did was talk. Is it wrong for me to be friends with an ex?” “No, it’s not. I’m still friends with some of my exes, but when you’re going behind my back taking her phone calls, no matter what, it’s suspicious.” He hugged you trying to lessen your anger, which admittedly helped his case just a bit. You really didn’t have a problem with him being friends with her, but it was unacceptable to have a friendship behind your back. He pulled back after a minute or so of hugging you with no response. He pressed his forehead against yours. “Are you going to leave me?” he asked lips in a full pout and you couldn’t resist kissing him for a few seconds. “The relationship? No. For the night? Yes.” He let out a little whine. “But, I want you to stay the night.” “Consider this punishment. You can take this night to think about what you’ve done. Next time you see me, I expect flowers and candy.” You gave him another swift kiss before actually getting inside your car, preparing to leave to your flat for the night. “But, jaan…” he whined again. “Don’t 'jaan’ me,” you said before finally driving away, leaving him pouting standing in his pathway.

Niall: You were far too sweet and far too fragile to live this life. You don’t know why you convinced yourself that you could handle it. You cared too much about other people’s opinions, and ever since you started to date Niall your anxiety tripled. Everyone was always expecting things out of you. Your privacy was practically nonexistent. You didn’t even have to be anywhere near Niall to have a sense of someone watching you or hearing the click of a camera indicating that someone was taking photos of you. It’d only been about 3 months, but you weren’t sure you could keep it up. Sure, you could deal with it as long as Niall was here, but that’s the thing. Niall wasn’t always going to be there. In fact, he was about to launch ANOTHER world tour, and all you were left to do was sit and wait and get hate. That wasn’t part of the plan. You pulled out your phone, in your completely overwhelmed state, and dialed Niall’s number. He picked up after a few rings. “Hey babe. What’s the craic?” You cringed at how casual he sounded, and you hated how you were about to break his spirits. But, it had to be done. “Um, can you c-come over after work?” you sniffled out. “Are you crying? What’s wrong?” he questioned knowing something was up. “Niall, please. Can you come over after work?” “Uh, yeah, sure,” You were pacing around your flat in the hour and a half before Niall came, suffocating yourself with your thoughts, so that when he finally came you could get it all over with, quick and easy like ripping off a bandaid. “Y/N?” he called out announcing his arrival, not noticing that you were already sitting on the couch a little past the door. “Oh, hey what’s up? Were you crying on the phone earlier?” “Quick and easy like a bandaid,” you thought to yourself. “I can’t be with you anymore, Niall,” you said picking at your nails while he was hanging up his jacket, not fully taking in what you said. “What?” he said nonchalantly sitting by your side. “I can’t be with you anymore,” you said looking him timidly in the eyes. And, he laughed. You were taken aback by his lack of concern. “Shut up,” he breathed out through his laughter, then got up, went into your kitchen, and started perusing your fridge. “I’m serious,” you stated firmly, starting to get angry. “No, you’re not. I know exactly what’s wrong, now. You saw that stupid article didn’t you?” You turned your head away from him but nodded sheepishly while he sipped his beer. “You just need to stop listening to and reading all that bullshit. It’s always going to be around. You think if you leave me it’s going to stop? If anything it’ll get worse, you know? At least for the first couple months, but they’ll always talk about you. Just because you’ve been with me. I know it sucks, but it’s the truth.” “You’re about to embark on an entire world, and I’m just supposed to deal with this all by myself? Niall, I can’t do that. I’m not strong enough for that.” He set his drink down and pulled you into his side. “Princess, you won’t have to deal with it alone. I’m always a phone call or text message away. I may not always be able to answer right away, but I will answer. Besides your internship ends around what? May? You can come kick it with us on tour. You’re never alone. Now, shut up, stop talking crazy, and make me a sandwich.”

anonymous asked:

"Just one last kiss and I'll never bother you again." Sirius Black?

Author: Kerrie (That’s me, your friendly neighbourhood admin)
Word Count: 299

“Remus said you accused him of being a spy, but I didn’t believe him. Now you’re accusing me?” Sirius had been acting strange with you lately, distant and cold, instead of your usual affectionate boyfriend. Now you knew why, he thought you were spying for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m so sor-“

“I DEFENDED YOU. When Remus came to me, I defended you. I said he was wrong, that you’d never doubt him like that.” You were screaming at him now, furious and crushed that he thought so little of you. “We’re over, Sirius. If you honestly think I would betray the Order, you don’t know me at all. And you certainly don’t trust me. I don’t want a relationship like that.”  

“No, please don’t do this. I’m sorry,” he begged. Sirius was finally starting to understand just how much he’d hurt you. His eyes were shiny with tears and his lips were trembling. He looked as broken as you felt.

You shook your head, too angry to reply.

“Just one last kiss and I’ll never bother you again.” He was desperate, pleading with you to try and fix what he’d done. Kissing was always his go to method of calming you down when you were angry, interrupting and pacifying you. You knew exactly what he was doing and weren’t going to let him win.

Cupping both sides of his face, you yanked him towards you. Your lips crashed together. Sirius attempted to take control of the kiss, trying to calm your harsh movements. You didn’t let him, tilting your head and forcing him to move to match you. He conceded, melting beneath your hands and lips.

“There’s your kiss. Come back trusting me or don’t come back at all,” you said, pushing him off abruptly and walking away.

(x) (x)

10 ~ Gender Predictions

Pregnancy Series Here

Niall (your pov) ~ “I’m betting on a boy,” Denise said, bouncing their baby girl, Evie, on her knee. You and Niall had flown in to visit for her first birthday. Maura, Niall’s mother, was missing – of course. Niall had lost contact with her after your wedding. She absolutely despised you, for reasons unknown. Although you felt sorry for Niall, you were happy he loved you so much that he would choose your over his mother.

“What, why?” Niall asked, holding his arms out for his niece. Denise passed Evie to him, and he sat back happily, making silly faces to occupy the one year old.

“Look at her hair!” She exclaimed. She was now standing behind you and twisting your soft, shiny hair around her fingers. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Her hair looks the same,” Greg laughed.

“No, it’s so soft now. And I’m so jealous,” Denise whined. She turned to Greg, “Remember my hair when I was pregnant with Theo, how nice it was?” He nodded, and smiled, pulling his boy closer.

“But I want a girl,” Niall sighed, making a sad face at the birthday girl.

“I think it’s a boy, too,” You said, rubbing his shoulder. “Sorry, Ni.”

“I hope it’s a boy!” Theo exclaimed, clapping his still-chubby hands. “Girls are stupid and yucky!”

“Theo!”

Zayn (your pov) ~ You were sitting on the couch watching some movie, a bucket beside you, when the doorbell rang. You paused the tv and ran to the front door and looked through the peep hole. Niall’s wife was outside completely wrapped in winter clothing. You quickly opened the door, laughing, and pulled her into the warmth of your house.

“What are you doing here?” You asked as you hung up her coat.

“I was in the area. How are you feeling? Niall said that Zayn said that you were sick a lot,” She began, and hugged you around her 32 week baby bump.

“I’m constantly over the toilet. It’s so frustrating.” You said, bringing her into the kitchen and turning on the kettle. “I thought nausea was supposed to stop after the first trimester?”

“It did for me. You’re what- 15 weeks now?” She sat at the kitchen table, rubbing the base of her stomach over her flowing coral dress. You slid her a mug of tea and a cookie Zayn brought home from some fans the other day to her, and sat down adjacent to her.

“Eighteen,” you nodded, smiling. Looking at her, you felt extremely self conscious. There she was, near the end of her pregnancy, all put together and looking beautiful. And there you were, with pimples all over your face, dressed in pajama pants and a t-shirt, and your greasy hair in a ponytail.

“Niall’s sister-in-law and I were talking about how to predict genders and stuff before we found out, and I think I remember morning sickness as a sign of a girl.” She smiled, making her eyebrows dance.

“Really? I just always had this inkling it was a boy, but If that’s true-”

“You could be having a girl!”


Liam (your pov) ~ “What are you thinking about?” You asked Liam, walking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his torso. You were getting ready for bed when you realized you left the TV on, and on the way back to your bedroom, you found Liam standing in the doorway of the room you planned to use as the nursery. It was the small room connected to your bedroom, with white paneling up the walls and the far wall covered with windows. 

“Not much,” He answered. He rubbed your forearms, and kissed your hand. You rested your chin on his back and smiled into the fabric of his t-shirt.

“What are you thinking about?” You repeated. You watched him move his head to scan the empty room. The only thing occupying it now was a white crib the two of you had put together a few weeks ago. You were still waiting for a baby. Jean, your social worker, said you were quickly moving up on the waiting list, and it could be any day now.

“What color would look best on the walls,” He finally answered.

“I’m hoping for a purple, or a light green with flowers.” You said. You unwrapped your arms from him and walked into the large, bare room. He smiled at you with that twinkle in his eyes he has. “See, we could put the changing table here, and over here-”

“A girl?” Liam interrupted your planning. You spun on your heel, expecting him to be angry or upset, but he only had a big grin on his face. He began walking towards you, saying, “Our princess, our little lady bug. I wouldn’t want anything more.”

Harry (your pov) ~ “How do you know it’s a girl?” Gemma sneered with a short snort. She looked down to Felix, who was fast asleep in a bouncer chair on the floor besides the table. David was on a short business trip, and she, Felix, and Anne were staying with you and Harry for a few days.

“I just have a feeling,” He replied confidently, smirking. You hit his arm lightly with the back of you hand lightly, chuckling.

“Well, it could be a boy. You said she was really clumsy, and that means boy.” Gemma argued. You were giggling at the friendly bickering between the siblings when Anne came in with dinner. You all took a spoonful of the homemade mac-and-cheese and plopped them on your plates.

“What are you all fighting about?” Anne asked. Gemma looked to Harry, rolling her eyes with her lips pursed.

“She thinks the bean is a boy, and he thinks the bean is a girl,” you answered, earning a laugh from Anne. Gemma and Harry quickly fell into argument again.

“Stop, stop, stop.” Anne interrupted, shaking her head in disapproval. “If you would calm down, I could tell you there are some old wives tales that can be used to predict the gender.”

You all nodded excitedly, and Harry stood up. “Just you watch,” He said, pointing to Gemma in a competitive manner. Anne led you all into the living room with 5 month old Felix still asleep in her arms. She handed the baby to Harry and slipped his wedding ring off. She instructed you to lie on the floor, your little baby bump sticking up, and plucked one of your hairs out of your head.

“Ow,” You complained.

“Oh, shush. I did this when I was pregnant with the two of you, but it predicted a girl both times, so its pretty accurate.” She laughed, earning a scoff from Gemma, a giggle from you, and a ‘hey’ from Harry. She tied your strand of hair to his wedding band, “So, when I put this over her belly, if it swings back and forth it means its a boy, and if it goes in a circle it means its a girl. Got it?” She kneeled down beside you and lifted up your shirt.

“Ready?” She asked, hovering the ring above your belly button. All eyes were on you, waiting anxiously for the answer. Suddenly, it began moving back and forth in a straight line. “A boy!”

“See! Ha! What’s up, son?” Gemma celebrated, rubbing her correct guessing in your husband’s face. Anne grabbed you hand and helped you to your feet.

“I don’t care. I still think it’s a girl.” He said, sticking his tongue out like a child.

Louis (your pov) ~ “What’s happening, hot stuff?” Louis asked, dimming his laptop screen. Family Guy was playing on the TV, muted, and he was sprawled out on the chaise in your living room.

“Oh, shut up.” You scolded, falling backwards on the couch. You sighed heavily, and un-muted the tv. “I need chocolate.”

“There’s some in the kitchen.” You shook your head, and rolled over so you were on your side.

“No, I ate it last night. Remember? It was like, 2 in the morning,” You told him, sitting back up.

“Are you asking me to go buy you some?” You nodded. “Fine, but can you pick up my key first?” You  looked to where he was pointing, his house key 2 meters away from him on the floor. You looked at him with disbelief: your eyes wide, your eyebrows raised, and your mouth open. He nodded, pointing again.

“Absolutely not, asshole.” You said, shaking your head.

“No chocolate, then.” He warned. You instantly began to attempt to stand up, struggling for a few moments before you were successfully on your feet. The twins were growing rapidly, and your stomach was huge.

“Those pants make your ass look amazing,” Louis said, pulling at your blue plaid pajama pants. You smacked away his hand, glaring at him. You crouched down, picked the single key, and once again struggled to put yourself in an upright position.

“Ah ha! You picked it up by the round side!” He laughed, placing his hands on your tummy.

“What the hell is going on with you?” You asked, throwing the key at his chest.

“The internet said if you pick the key up by the round part, the baby is a boy. But if you had picked it up by the thin part, it would’ve been a girl. So at least one of the babies is a boy.” He continued smiling, the skin around his eyes crinkling in happiness.

“Are you trying to annoy me?” You smirked, rolling your eyes at him,

“A bit,” He answered, laughing.

“Now how about that chocolate?”

anonymous asked:

Part 2 of school reunion?

Part 1 is here! I’m kind of biting my nails about this one, I really hope it’s what you guys wanted <3 Thanks for reading!

When the sunlight first hits your bare back, you’re still stuck in the land of dreams. In your head, you’re floating, whether its on the ocean or a cloud or nothing at all, and when you turn your head all you see is light, warm skin drenching light. It feels like fingers touch your skin, dragging over spots that make you shiver, and you want to lean in towards the touch, towards that light, but it leaves you. The more you try to chase it the farther it gets from you, and suddenly you’re falling instead of floating, plummeting straight down and-

You jolt awake, heart pounding. Pushing your wayward hair from your face, you lift your head and glance around, taking in the hotel room you’re meant to be checking out of today. You roll onto your back and sigh, trying to make sense of the world, and it’s when you sit up a little to take a peek at the clock that you notice the sticky soreness between your thighs. Like a flood, memories fill your head suddenly: Harry at the bar, his eyes watching you closely as you tried not to show how nervous you were. His hands on your body, mouth working you expertly in that dim, lonely room. The way his body had felt on top of you, all warm smooth skin and frantic kisses as he moved within you. And you sit up as quickly as your foggy head will allow it, now noticing the overturned chair, your clothes scattered around the room, and Harry, nowhere to be seen and not a trace of him.

On some level, you aren’t surprised at all. On many other levels, your heart feels utterly and painfully broken. Harry had never been a saint, but he had been a friend, a good one, the kind you tell your secrets to without any fear of it getting out, the kind you remember after years and years and regret losing touch as sharply as a pin prick. He was supposed to be the kind of friend that never hurt you, and yet you’ve never felt more wretched, more used, in your entire life.

Keep reading

The Hard Questions (Chapter 1)

I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep the night before attending a One Direction press conference. On the contrary, I was in bed early and asleep by nine. Even my dog was confused, cocking his head quizzically before hopping up into my bed and claiming his spot next to me.

“I have to get as much as sleep as possible, Steinem.” I explained. “Mommy is gonna be in the same room as One Direction tomorrow.”

Steinem gave me an annoyed sounding snuffle before rolling over and drifting off, with me not far behind. When my alarm went off after what seemed like a few minutes, I swung my feet over the side of the bed and practically skipped around the room getting ready. Steinem watched from the bed with more confusion, and I didn’t blame him, given how I usually acted in the morning. When I was done and satisfied, I stepped back and surveyed the result. I couldn’t help but smile smugly. Gray sheath dress, french twist, gorgeous diamond earrings from an ex, and my one prized pair of Louboutins ensured that I would be noticed once I raised my hand.

I barely remembered getting my car and driving to the conference venue, but somehow or other, I got there. I managed to snag a prime second-row seat, much to the anger of a waifish brunette with a dress that was much too short and low-cut for a what was supposed a professional event. I flashed her a brittle, fake smile before getting out my recording device and notebook and pen. Looking around and noticing the other female reporters were dressed, I couldn’t help but smirk. They seemed divided between girls who hoped to get their questions answered by flashing enough tit and leg for a night at the club, and others who were clearly taking themselves too seriously in frumpy, ill-fitting “power suits”. I smoothed my Anthropologie sheath, knowing I made the right call outfit-wise. 

Sudden shouts of the various names of the band members jolted me out my self-assured fog. I watched everyone around me clamber for their attention, giggling to myself about how childish they looked. Once the boys were seated and miked, the questions began. I made notes and marked which sections of the recording to listen to again later. At first, the boys spoke about their tour and latest album, which I had to admit sounded pretty great. Then we got to the juicy part: Their personal lives. Liam and Louis’ relationships with their girlfriends were going great, and Zayn had to announce that no, he and Perrie hadn’t gotten any farther on their wedding plans. Finally, all eyes settled on Harry. Quick as a flash, I shot my hand into the air, and was quickly called on. Standing, I had to steady myself while seeing Harry staring straight at me. His richly colored, albeit long hair seemed  to frame his face perfectly. I could see the green in his eyes from where I was standing a few yards away. I cleared my throat for my question.

“Mr. Styles,” I began, “I notice that in multiple interviews, you have stated that you don’t particularly mind what a woman looks like, just as long as she is a ‘nice person’, that’s enough for you. Do you still stand behind that?”

Harry’s eyes flickered. “Yes, I do.” He stated. He then started looking for someone else to call on. “I wasn’t finished.” I said coolly. The band, and pretty much everyone else in the room, was now focused on me. Harry leaned forward on his forearms, “What’s the rest of your question?” He asked, sounding tense. “My question is why you’re not walking the talk, so to speak. You claim to be attracted to normal, 'cute’ girls but then spend most of your time with models.” Now Harry’s eyes were straight-up dark. “I’m sorry?” He said. His tone indicated that he was anything but. “Could you repeat that?”

I sighed audibly. “I want to know why you outright lie to your fans in order to make them feel good about their average bodies, when you are clearly only attracted to women with the physicality of a coat rack.”

There was an audible gasp. Someone a few seats away from me dropped their notepad. The rest of the boys’ expressions varied. Liam looked shocked; Zayn curious; Louis amused; and Niall looked all three. Harry himself looked angry. “I wish I could answer that-” he started. “Please do.” I interrupted, “Is that what you really look for in a woman, Mr. Styles? Someone docile, whose job requires the same amount of mental dexterity it takes to walk a dog?” Another gasp from the seated crowd around me. “Or are you just that shallow and won’t admit it for fear of the decrease in ticket sales?”

Silence. Pure, shocked silence. I loved it. I was so going to get a raise for this. I would probably blow most of it on a second pair of Louboutins, but still. 

Harry still hadn’t answered my question. He finally cleared his throat and readjusted his seating position. “As I was going to say,” he almost seemed to growl, “I really wish I could answer that, but I’m still figuring out for myself what I want in a romantic partner, and the fact that most of them have happened to be models has been a coincidence. And furthermore, I fail to see why it should make a difference.”

“Oh, it does.” I heard myself snap, “Trust me. It does." 

More silence as I sat down and scrawled more notes. The questions started up again, and I maintained cold eye contact with Harry for the rest of the press conference. Eventually It drew to a close, and I was a few yards from the exit when a large, burly man, obviously one the bodyguards, blocked my way.

"Mr. Styles wants to speak with you,” he stated. “Now.”

——————————————————————————–

As I was led to a private lounge, I stopped, pretending to readjust my bag. I turned on my recorder and positioned it so it was sticking out just right. If I was going to get chewed out, I was at least going to get some good material out of it. The door to the lounge was opened by the bodyguard, and he pulled it closed behind me and stood outside, leaving me alone with a very angry-looking Harry. 

“Have a seat.” he spat.

“I’d rather stand,” I replied crisply. 

“Fine.” he snapped. “Either way, I didn’t appreciate what you implied out there. You don’t even know me. How could you accuse me of lying to my fans?” I looked down at my shoes and felt a momentary flash of guilt before remembering a post about Harry I had read on Tumblr a few days ago while researching the band : “I know he’d never look at me,” it had said. “I’m not thin or pretty enough. I’m just not enough.”

With that sad memory, I snapped my head upward and faced Harry. “Because whether you realize it or not, you are lying to them.” I countered.  "This society puts the modelling industry on enough of a pedestal. Girls are already starve and harm themselves enough because of mass media. You dating a gaggle of fembots isn’t helping.“ 

"Oh, so I should be thinking of the societal repercussions anytime I ask a girl out, should I?”

“That’s actually not a terrible idea. Then maybe, for once, you wouldn’t be perpetuating the idea that a young woman is only worth something if she has an eating disorder and is willing to walk around with her tits out.”

“Now who’s perpetuating things? Not all models have eating disorders y'know.”

“Oh I’m sorry, you’re right. That type of figure can also be attained with cocaine. How’s your friend Cara, by the way?”

His jaw tightened. He opened and shut his mouth several times, as if searching  for something to say. “Look,” he finally sighed. “I asked you back here because I wanted to let you know that your question deeply offended me, and I was hoping that maybe, just maybe if you talked to me away from that conference, you’d see that I’m a flesh-and-blood human being with feelings, feelings that you hurt deeply.”

Another momentary flash of guilt. Then I remembered that there were probably hundreds of girls out there whose feelings got hurt whenever Harry stepped out with another glorified mannequin. Feelings of inadequacy, self-hatred, and twisted, misplaced shame.

“I wish I could sympathize with you, Mr. Styles.” I heard myself say. “But the fact of the matter is, you’re not being truthful. Whether it’s on purpose or not, you are telling your fans that a girl needs to be thin and willing to model lingerie to get your attention, and then leading them on about it to sell albums and merchandise.”

“That’s not true.”

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“Well whether you believe it or not, it’s my private business.”

I sighed exasperatedly before plastering on a fake smile. “You’re right.” I exclaimed with fake glee. “You have every right to be shallow. That’s your business.”

With that, turned on my heel and reached for the doorknob. 

“I was expecting an apology, you know.” I heard him snarl from behind me. I turned back to look at him in all his long haired, green eyed glory. He was wearing one of signature combos of a barely-buttoned shirt and skinny jeans. He looked pissed off, but for some reason, that just made him look hotter. In spite of that, I was able to flash him another fake smile.

“If an apology is what you’re wanting, Mr. Styles,” I chirped, “you’re going to have to pack a lunch, because that’s gonna take a while.”

I couldn’t help but smirk as my heels clicked down the hallway.

———————————————————————————

When I got home, I checked my cell and found a voicemail from my boss, who had seen the footage of me asking my question on Youtube. As I expected, she promised a raise would be in order. With Steinem at me feet, I sat at my desk and wrote about the conference. I must have stared at around noon, and by the time the article was written to my satisfaction, it was already about five in the evening. Steinem was dying for a walk and my stomach was roaring, reminding me that I had foolishly skipped breakfast that morning. Once Steinem and I had taken a few laps around my block, I made myself a chicken wrap and poured a glass of wine, then showered and brushed my teeth, taking in a few episodes of Law and Order: SVU before my eyelids started to flutter. I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t help but think about Harry. Sure, he was acting like a tool about the whole model thing, but based on everything else I’d heard about him, he seemed like a cool guy otherwise. And those pink pillowy lips, those intense jade-colored eyes, those strong arms…….I imagined them holding my hips down as that mouth worked its magic on my clit, his long, perfectly-shaped fingers stroking me while his tongue stimulated me perfectly. 

“Steinem,” I croaked. He looked up at me from the foot of the bed. “Momma needs some private time. Could you please go wait outside?”

He me another annoyed sounding huff similar to last night’s before clambering off the bed and leaving, using his large Bull mastiff snout to nudge the door closed behind him. With that, I nudged my fingers into my underwear and began to stroke myself, pretending it was Harry.

Suddenly he was right there, circling my nub with his fingers, using his other hand to knead and squeeze my breast, all while nipping and lapping at my neck. “You were so bad today,” he was whispering in my ear, “you made me so angry.” his fingers picked up speed, bringing me closer to the brink. I could hear myself whimpering. Then he abruptly rolled on top of me, and I could feel his length against my thigh. I groaned at the loss of his fingers. “You need someone to fuck you good,  yeah?” I shoved him back and rolled us over so I was on top of him, his throbbing erection positioned just under where I admittedly wanted him.

“I don’t need anyone to fuck me.” I hissed. “They probably sell dicks bigger than yours.”

God, even in my masturbation fantasies I was a bitch.

I lined myself up and sunk down on him, both of us gasping with relief. His hands started to move toward my hips, but I grabbed his wrists and pinned them down. “I’d like to see one of your models fuck you like this.” I sneered. “They’d probably snap in half.” He struggled and tried to get free, but in this fantasy, I was stronger than him.

With that, I started to move, slowly, and teasingly. I made figure eights, I wrote my initials, then his, both of us moaning and panting with each movement. Then I started to pick up speed, sliding forward the backward at an increased pace. He was able to sit up so his face was centimeters from mine. I was going fast now, my g-spot getting brushed more with each thrust. With one last bounce, my orgasm erupted out of me just as he broke free from wrists and kissed me with such fervor and force I nearly fell off of him.

We both came at the same time, that’s what helped me remember it was a fantasy.

I opened my eyes, feeling sweaty and damp down south. I rolled off my bed to change my underwear and wash my hands, feeling lucky for not getting anything on my sheets. I let Steinem in, who made the dog-version sound for “It’s about time.” before climbing on my bed. I gave him a pat before turning out the light and conking out, feeling content and sated.

—————————————————————————

Across town, in his luxuriously appointed hotel bathroom, Harry’s wrist flicked back and for against his throbbing cock. He was trying his damnedest to remember that journalist from earlier. In his daydream, he had ripped off that gray dress of hers and pinned her up against the very counter he was standing in front of. 

Normally, not even in his fantasies, had he ever been this rough, this dominant, but this woman brought something out in him, something that made him wild and ready to give to her, but good. She was growling in his ear. “I know you can give me more,” she groaned. “Harder, harder, please!” with one final thrust into his palm, Harry came, most of his cum mercifully making into the sink. He gingerly turned the tap on to wash his hands, watching the physical evidence of his passion wash down the drain. He sauntered through his suite and into the bedroom area, and changed into some sweats. He then pulled his phone off the nightstand, and dialed the number of the band’s press liaison, who answered with a bark. “What?!" 

"Aidan, it’s Harry.”

“Harry, man, I know you’re a star and everything, but it’s eleven thirty and I have to be up by six. What is it?”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just need a number.”

“Whose?”

“That one girl today, the one who asked about me going out with models.”

There was silence.

“Look man, I’m sorry about that, I swear I had no idea she was gonna ask you something like that, I promise she’ll be-”

“Never mind that. I wanna know who she works for.”

==================================================

Feedback please! Is there anything I could have done better? Anything I should keep? I can’t guarantee when the next chapter will be up, but I’ll try to update them on a regular basis.

It’s gonna be a fun ride, dearies! I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Universes Apart by louhearted

“No, I wanted to, I mean I missed you and I shouldn’t have -”

Louis put the tea down.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Louis mumbled and his eyelashes fluttered down again, his eyes obscured from Harry’s view.

“I shouldn’t have -” Kissed you, Harry thought. “-left. I shouldn’t have left like that.”

“Harry.” Louis soft voice pulled Harry back into the present. “I am not still-” He interrupted himself with an airily chuckle. “-Not still angry about that.”

You should be, Harry wanted to scream. You should be and you should scream and fight and kick and bite and do something else than offer Harry tea.

“I’m still sorry.” He whispered and finally made a grab for the abandoned tea cup. It was warm and tasted like home. Tasted like Louis. Tasted like he had smelled in the mornings, and how he had laughed at night.

“Don’t be Harry.” Louis chuckle sounded forced to Harry’s ears. “Come on let’s sit. We have a lot of catching up to do. I mean how long has it been? Two? Three years?”

Or: A love confession gone south and one party trying it again a few years down the road, alternatively: Harry loves Louis, and three years are a long time.

read on ao3  
   spotify playlist
Are You Cheating On Me? - Harry Preference (Part 1)

You were humming to yourself quietly as you cooked dinner, chopping the vegetables, boiling the pasta as you awaited Harry to get home. You were about to call him when your phone vibrated, indicating that you got a text.

You smiled thinking it was Harry, but it faltered when his name failed to appear on the screen. You opened up the text and your smile grew at the content.

07 XXX XXX XXX– OH MY GOODNESS Y/N I WAS GOING THROUGH MY CONTACTS AND I FOUND YOUR NAME, THIS IS MY NEW NUMBERRRRRRRR. Danny xo

Danny. Your amazing friend from college who you hadn’t been in contact with since the day you left finally texted you after a year, the smile on your face was inevitable. You sent a quick reply before saving his number and finishing dinner, promising you’d call him after.

———————-

An hour later you were done, you flopped down onto the sofa and pulled out your phone not even trying to fight the smile that made its way on your face.

RING RING. RING RING.

“Y/N!” a deep voice screamed from the other side of your phone causing you to rip it away from your ear at an arm’s length. You laughed at his reaction before squealing into the phone. “DANYYYYYY! I missed you so frickin much!” you said in excitement. “So have I Y/N! I lost my phone on the day of that party and then yeah…I got all of our old mates numbers off Y/F/N” he mumbled in embarrassment.

“Mate, you had Facebook, Twitter, Insta, everythinggggg” you whined, not accepting his poor excuse of not contacting you. “Babe. I tried contacting you so much but you instantly auditioned for BGT and got insanely famous, and now you’re dating the Harry Styles, so…how could I have contacted you?” he questioned defensively with a hint of  jokiness in his voice as the two of you laughed it off. “Whatever Danny” you submissively mumbled.

———————-

The two of you talked for god knows how long and you finally put the phone down, sighing in relief, unable to wipe the grin off your face. You stood up off the sofa and turned around to meet a very angry Harry, and because you were so happy, you failed to see his emotions as you walked over to him and gave him a peck on the lips.

“Hey babe, how are you?” you asked joyfully as you walked into the kitchen, Harry following your trial with speed. “Who was that?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Who?” you asked back before it clicked. “Oh thattttt, that was Danny, my college mate” you said cheerfully.

“How come I’ve never heard of this ‘Danny’ then?” he questioned as he raised his hands and quoted Danny’s name, his green eyes piercing yours. “Relax Harry, it’s no big deal, we lost contact after college and finally got in touch today” you said quite annoyed at the fact that he wouldn’t drop the topic.

“Oh. Okay” he said bluntly as he dismissed the topic, still a hint of suspicion in his eyes. “Now come on babe, let’s eat?” you asked hoping the awkwardness was gone and he just nodded as you began to warm up the food.

Halfway through eating, your phone went off again and you absentmindedly opened the text to find it was Danny. Rather than eating your food, you began to message him, completely oblivious to Harry’s fuming expression on the other end of the table.

You laughed at a hilarious text Danny had sent you and that’s when Harry lost it. “For fucks sake Y/N” he grumbled, his fists banging on the table as he stood up, causing the table to shake ever so slightly.

You looked up at him innocently as you mumbled a quick term of acknowledgement before returning to text Danny. Harry marched over to you and ripped your phone out of your hand, throwing it across the kitchen.

“HARRY! WHAT THE FUCK, WHY DID YOU DO THAT?” you yelled as you stared at your phone which now had an ugly crack along the screen. “Well maybe if my girlfriend paid attention to me then I would have been fine!” he yelled, anger racing through his blood.

“Harry? Are you jealous” you asked as you laughed slightly and this only seemed to anger him even more as his fists balled up tighter than ever. “Harry why are you getting so pissed for, he’s just a friend!” you said as anger began to course through your veins.

“A friend. A friend?” he said, repeating it louder and in a more disgusted tone the second time. “Yes a friend! You have nothing to be afraid of!”

“Afraid? I’m not afraid of some little shit trying to steal my girl!” he shouted at you, eyes raging with fury. “HARRY. HE’S NOT TRYING TO STEAL ME OR DO ANYTHING, WHY DON’T YOU STOP BEING A JEALOUS FUCKTARD” you yelled, equally angry.

‘WELL STOP BEING SUCH A WHORE THEN!” he yelled. His hand instantly clamped over his mouth as his words spewed out, leaving you shocked and in pain.

“Babe I’m so sorry I didn-“ “Get out Harry” you said, interrupting his aplology as you stepped away from him.

“No babe, pelase just let me-“ “Harry, get out” you said picking up your phone from the other side of the room before storming off to the bedroom, slamming it shut as you lay down face first onto the bed.

Moments later, you heard a slam confirming that Harry had left the house and you let your tears fall, soaking your duvet as you silently cried, Harry’s stinging words circulating in your mind and aching like a knife through your heart.

   - Part 2

Masterlist

(A/N: I dunno, it’s different from my other imagines… you like? 10 notes for part 2!!! xx)

The girl he left behind; Harry Styles One Shot

For the follower that requested a romatic Harry one-shot… xx


Harry covered his face with the palm of his hand as he walked past the paparazzi into his favourite London coffee shop. His security guards stood outside, monitoring the situation, while Harry took a seat at a discrete table. His hands shook nervously as he took off his sunglasses, revealing his pale green eyes, reminiscent of her favourite ice cream; mint. Her, the thought of her was enough to make Harry’s hands fumble with the napkin, dropping it on the floor. As he bent over to pick it up, he heard the door chime ring and quickly looked up.

There she was, the girl Harry hadn’t stopped thinking about since he last saw her five years ago. The one girl he had never expected to fall in love with and yet, here he was after all of this time, waiting for the comfort of her familiar face in a quaint little coffee shop.

She moved graciously, each step delicate and sweet, much like her appearance. She was an old soul in a young lady’s body, the kind of woman Harry had always chased after, not realizing she was the reason why.

Harry lifted his hand and waved to her, a bashful smile painted across his soft skin. Her face lit up, her eyes smiling much more than her mouth ever could.

He stood up from his seat to greet her. “Hello beautiful, I’m so glad you could make it,” he said, unsure of whether he should embrace her or not.

She eased the uncertainty by wrapping her arms around him tightly and he returned the favour.

“Of course I could dear, no way I would miss it,” she responded, slowly removing her arms and shifting towards her seat.

A waiter came and tended to their coffee, both ordered the same; they always have ordered the same.

“How have you been?” Harry asked. His eyes could not manage to blink or look away from her, scared to lose just one more second of her.

She smiled down at her cup and tucked a piece of her honey butter locks behind her ears. “I’ve been pretty good. I’m finishing up my last year of university and I’ve been interning at the BBC all summer,” she said, before taking a sip out of her steaming white china.

Harry smirked, it made him happy to know that she was still as driven and hardworking as he had remembered. “I always knew you would go places,” he said warmly.

She laughed slightly and gave him a gentle nod. “Thanks dear. How about you?”

Harry had always loved the way she said dear and how clear her voice rang through to his ears. He took a sip of his coffee trying to remain composed, when all he wanted to do was announce his love for her. “Um, mostly tired because I don’t get much sleep…”

“And you love your sleep,” she interrupted, with a giggle.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “But I’ve been doing okay.”

She smiled and extended her hand, placing it on his arm. “I’m glad.”

Harry wasn’t happy and not because his life wasn’t spectacular, but because he was angry at himself for leaving her behind for so long.

“I don’t see a ring, so I guess I haven’t missed a wedding or anything since I’ve been gone,” Harry joked, watching her expression hoping she would say she was single.

She chucked at him, “no wedding, no engagement, but I have found a man who I fancy.”

Harry’s heart sunk into his chest, his palms became sweaty and he tried desperately to conceal the tears forming in his eyes.

“So, your both pretty serious?” He asked, praying for a ‘no’.

She pulled her hand back from his arm and wrapped it around the mug. “Well, I had the hardest time finding a man I felt fit these stupid standards that I had set. I decided to open up and stop limiting my options, which seems to have worked because I enjoy his company,” she replied, staring into his secretly saddened eyes. “But, I wouldn’t say I’m too serious about it.

The pressure that was once on his chest was relieved at the sound of the word ‘but’. He felt more hope now then he had in the months leading up to their scheduled meeting.

The two decided go for a walk following their coffee, exiting out the back door and taking a cab to a few blocks away. They always used to walk home from school together, so it only seemed fitting.

“When’s the last time we actually saw each other?” Harry questioned.

Her face dimmed and the gentle smile was swept away by a blank, emotionless expression. “Five years ago, after you won X-Factor. I saw you at your mum’s briefly before your life got so hectic. I made you a cake remember, carrot cake, your favourite.”

Harry’s heart fluttered at the memory. “Yeah I remember, I’ve missed your baking horribly,” Harry laughed, halting once he saw that she wasn’t laughing with him. “Sorry I haven’t been around.”

She didn’t respond, in fact, she was silent for close to a minute. “Don’t be, I probably would have forgotten about me too,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Forget about you? I know I’ve been away and a lot has changed about my life, but I have never once forgotten you.”

Her eyes peered up from beneath her brow. “Harry, it’s okay…” she said, her face soft.

“For the past five years I’ve been cramped on a tour bus, I’ve been on the road nonstop and I’ve been forced to see the same stuffy people over and over again. Every day I’ve thought about calling you, writing to you and flying to you, but I was scared you wouldn’t want to see me anymore,” Harry said loudly, his voice swimming in sincerity.

She reached out and rubbed Harry’s hand gently. “All I’ve wanted is to see you or hear your voice dear, you were my best friend.” She paused and pulled her hand away. “So why now, why all of a sudden?”

Harry stared at her, trying to find the courage to spit out what’s been burning inside of him for five years. He grabbed both of her hands firmly and stared deeply into her eyes. “I’ve been all over the world and I’ve met thousands of people, and you’re still the only thing that I think about every single minute of every single day. I love my job, I love the fans, but all of it has been worthless without you.” Harry paused, a tear streaming down his cheek as he pulled her in even closer. “I have been in love with you since we were 12 years old, I just never knew it until I was thousands of miles away without you. So why now? Because I need you to know how I feel, or I will spend the rest of my life wishing I had said it when I had the chance.”

Her mouth was slightly open and her eyes were also glossed over. “Harry, I, I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me you love me, tell me that I haven’t lost my chance,” Harry begged.

Tears flew down her face and her lips trembled, “Of course I love you, I have sin…

Harry interrupted her words with his lips, his hands grasping the sides of her face, his body pressed against hers with desperation. She raised her arms and placed them around his neck, she could smell his sweet cologne coming from his collar. He moved his arms down around her lower back and picked her up off the ground, pulling away only to admire her.

“What now?” she asked staring down at his lips from his embrace.

Harry smiled at her, “we figure things out, together.”

Fists & Knives - Chapter 7

“What the butt was that??” I blurted when we were finally close to the house.  Harry had remained quiet the whole drive out of the city, which wasn’t a very long one since I was speeding the whole way.  Harry cocked his head at my choice of words, but I didn’t notice.  Clark hadn’t let me cuss in so long that I barely noticed the strange things I said anymore. “You can’t just drag me into something like that and then not explain who or what or why or-“

“Geez well if you would shut the hell up, I would tell you,” Harry snapped.  I gripped the steering wheel more tightly and pressed a little harder on the gas pedal.

“They were the three guys who beat me up a while back.  Marcus’ guys.  Probably want the money that Marcus paid me off with back.  Two of them followed me into the bathroom at the restaurant and I beat them up pretty badly.  How did you get away from the third?”

“I just pretended like I was a waitress.  Snuck past him.”

“And he bought it?” Harry asked, sounding surprised.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Harry raised his eyebrows at my snappy response and looked out the window.  “I just don’t know how they spotted me in the first place…”

“Well I would hardly consider your disguise ‘top notch’,” I grumbled, earning me a dark look from Harry.  “Don’t glare at me,” I said.  “We shouldn’t have been out there anyway.”

As we pulled up to the gates at the front of the driveway, Harry rudely leaned his entire body over me and rolled down my window so that he could scan his card and unlock the gates.  This might sound gross, but his cologne mixed with his sweat from running just made him smell even more heavenly than he usually did.  I grunted as he shouldered me in the chin when he leaned back into his seat before speaking.

“Quit acting like you know where I should and shouldn’t be.”

I laughed harshly.  “I’ve been told by multiple people that you aren’t supposed to be out of the house.  I know exactly where you should and shouldn’t be!”

Harry slammed his fist on the dashboard. “I’m not paying you to yell at me for leaving the house!!”

“Well you’re also not paying me to be chased through New York late at night from three gigantic THUGS!  They could have beat me up or taken me hostage or-”

“You think you’re so special, don’t you? They don’t care about you. They want me!” Harry shouted at me.  The small space of the car just made his voice even louder.  I winced.

“They saw me with you, Harry.  They could think I was a girlfriend or somethi-“

“No.”

I gasped as Harry shut down that idea as quickly as he did.  “Well you might not like the idea but that could have been what they were thinking!  And then they would use me to get to you!! Don’t you understand??”

“They don’t care about you, they just want me-“ Harry repeated, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“God, you’re not even listening to me,” I blurted. When Harry didn’t respond, it was my turn to growl.  “You are so freaking stupid!!” I yelled.

I skidded to a halt in front on the gravel in front of the house.  Harry and I both bailed out of the car and slammed our doors simultaneously.  He glared at me across the top of the car, his nostrils flaring.  I caught myself doing the exact same thing to him.  He was such a butthead… but ugh, did that beanie look good on him.  KENNEDY, STOP THINKING THINGS LIKE THAT.

I stomped around the car and to the front door, struggling to find my new house key on my key ring.  Behind me, I could hear Harry’s footsteps approaching and I tried to get the key faster, but Harry grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him before I could get the key in the lock.  He stepped up on to the front step with me, his face just inches from mine and his hot breath falling into my face.  I dared to look him straight in the eye.

“Don’t.  Yell.  At.  Me.”

I shoved him backward off the step.  He cringed as he put his broken leg back to stop him from falling.  I ignored it.  “It’s becoming clear to me that you haven’t been yelled at enough in your life.”

Gravel crunched under the tires of two more vehicles coming up the driveway.  I grinned when I finally saw that it was Arnold and Louis.  Harry’s face fell and he jumped up onto the step with me, snatching my keys from my hands and shoving the door open as fast as he could.  He limped his way through the house and past the kitchen to wherever his secret stairway was, and within the minute I spotted him limping along the balcony, tearing his shirt and jacket over his head and unbuttoning his jeans.  I tossed the keys to the emergency car onto the kitchen counter and leaned across the counter to see into the living room.  Finally, Louis emerged.

“Kennedy, what is the emergency car doing out of the garage?”

“UH- I think Garf moved it earlier when he dropped Kennedy off,” Harry blurted from the balcony.  I looked up at him, wearing nothing but gym shorts, his hair a mess.  What a sneaky, little liar, pretending like he had been here the whole night. “Yeah,” Harry continued.  “It was Garf.  He said something about a taillight being broken.”

Louis eyed Harry closely.  I could tell he knew Harry was lying.

“So I see you’ve met Kennedy…” Louis said slowly, not taking his eyes off of his friend.

Harry nodded quickly.  “Yeah, I met her earlier when she came in.  We’ve just been hanging out.”

Even from being a floor below him, I could see beads of sweat forming above Harry’s brow.  Arnold had appeared in the living room and glanced from me to Harry.  “What the hell is the emergency car doing out? And why the hell aren’t you wearing your boot?”

Harry’s face went pale and he shifted his eyes down to me quickly.  It almost looked like he was silently pleading for me not to say anything.  The grin on my face spread more and more with every second Harry waited to respond.

“Yeah, Harry.  Where is your boot?” I chimed in. 

“It’s up here with me,” Harry lied flatly.

“Are you sure?” I asked slyly.  “I was just out there checking on that broken taillight and I thought I saw your boot in the car…”

 “Why was your boot in the car, Harry?” Louis asked, gazing up at Harry with a look in his eyes that let us both know he knew we had gone out of the house. 

Arnold tapped his toe on the white floor and raised his eyebrows at Harry. “WELL??”

Harry looked back down at me.

I looked at Louis and Arnold.

Louis laughed.

“You went to that fucking fight…” Arnold breathed, shaking his head. “What did I tell you?? What was the one thing I asked you to do??”

Harry shrugged and nearly pouted.  It was funny seeing him go from tough-guy to child-in-serious-trouble in .3 seconds.  “Stay in the house?”

“STAY IN THE FUCKING HOUSE,” Arnold raised his voice.  He threw his phone onto the white couch across the living room and put his hands on his hips when he looked back up at Harry. “Don’t you understand that I’m trying to help you?? If the paps had seen you with all your head gashed open and shit, you would have had negative rumors going all around.   We’re lucky the public is even buying this ‘he has the flu’ shit right now.  Do you hear me?”

Harry frowned and straightened up defensively. “I took my boot off and wore a disguise!”

Arnold looked like he was about to lose his mind. “You took your boot off??? Do you even want to get better??? Or do you just never want to fight ever again because you broke your foot once and refused to wear the damn boot??  And you wore a disguise?”

Louis was still cracking up. “Was it the glasses again??”

I nodded.

Arnold shook his head. “YOU’RE FUCKING HARRY STYLES STANDING IN A CROWD OF PEOPLE WHO USUALLY WORSHIP YOU, AND YOU THINK GLASSES IS GOING TO KEEP THEM FROM RECOGNIZING YOU?”

“It worked tonight!!” Harry shouted back at him. “No one even saw me!”

“Well…” I started, scratching the hair under my bandana. 

Louis glanced at Harry. “Who saw you?”

Harry didn’t say anything.

Louis walked toward me and grabbed my shoulders. “Who saw him, Kennedy?”

I shrugged between Louis’ large hands. “Three big guys.  I didn’t get a good look.”

A deep growl came from above me where Harry was standing.  His eyes were narrowed as he glared down at me. I glared right back at him and crossed my arms. “Don’t be pissed at me.  You forced me into this mess and I am not helping you out of it.”  

“You forced her to go with you??” Arnold asked. 

Oh, this was getting better by the second.

Harry looked offended and shook his head. “No, I asked her to-“

“He threatened my life if I didn’t take him out.”

“HARRY!”

“SHE HELD A KNIFE AT ME-”

“BECAUSE YOU LUNGED AT ME-“

“SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU!” Arnold’s face was red.  I was almost struggling not to laugh.  I was literally fighting with a child.  An angry, silly little child.  Louis on the other hand had no problem laughing his butt off.  With a single point across the room, Arnold sent Louis away so that he could talk to us without Louis’ laughter being a distraction.
“Miss Kennedy, I apologize for Harry’s behavior.  Sometimes the pain medication for his head just seems to amplify his anger and vulgarity.”

Harry gasped. “What the fuc-“

“YOU-” Arnold interrupted Harry. “Shut your mouth.  I’ll deal with you in a moment.”

Harry scowled and leaned against the banister as he watched Arnold finish speaking with me.  “Do you need anything for the night?”

I shook my head. “I think I’m just going to go take a bath and go to sleep.”

Arnold began to nod with approval, but stopped when Harry interrupted. “She can’t.  I’m hungry.”

“Harry, it’s almost midnight-“

“Arnold, I’m not paying her $150 dollars just to take a fucking bubble bath and go to sleep.  I’m hungry.”

My eyes closed slowly and opened up to see Arnold watching me closely.  I smiled softly and nodded. “He’s right.  It’s okay.” I turned and looked up at Harry. “What do you want?”

He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip and peered through the glass door to the backward as he thought. “Biscuits and honey.  Tea.  If you put sugar in my tea like you did last time, I’m not paying you for today.”

As I pulled out all of the ingredients and began to make the biscuits, I could hear Arnold and Harry arguing in Harry’s room above the kitchen.  I wish I knew how they got up there.  There were two or three rooms past the staircase that led to my own room, but I had yet to explore them.  Harry and Arnold’s voices above me were muffled, so I didn’t catch much of the conversation, but I did hear a little bit about how Harry “has to cooperate with Arnold” and how he “can’t keep being violent.”  I laughed.  How can you tell a professional boxer not to be violent?

After about thirty minutes, Arnold reappeared in the kitchen and exhaled sleepily.  “I’m heading home,” he told me as he checked his wristwatch and widened his eyes at the time. “My wife is gonna kill me.”

I pulled my biscuits out of the oven and put one on a napkin for him. “For the road,” I said softly, and Arnold thanked me with a gentle smile before heading into the living room and out the front door.

I put together a plate like last time for Harry, the jelly, butter, and honey all on the side.  I know he told me biscuits and honey, but he seemed to also use the jam and butter last time so I included them again.  Even though I was mad at Harry, I did change the blueberry jam to raspberry, like he said last time.  As I was about to put the plate in the window and buzz it up to him, he cleared his throat behind me.  I spun around to face him.

His hands were in the pockets of his jersey shorts.  I tried not to stare for too long… but I was sure he wasn’t wearing any boxers under those shorts.

“Arnold told me I had to apologize.”

I raised my eyebrows and pursed my lips. “Okay.”

Harry rocked on his feet and stared me in the eyes.  I waited a moment, shifting my hands under the plate and waiting (my burned hand was still throbbing slightly), but Harry didn’t say anything. “Was that it?  Was that the apology?”

Harry contorted his face and shrugged as if to say, “duh…” or “what else do you want me to say?”

I ran my tongue over the front of my teeth and rolled my eyes. “You are a horrible person.”

Harry lowered his gaze and took a step toward me. “And you roll your eyes too much…”

He took another slow step toward me.  And another.  And another.  His eyes were locked on mine.  God, he was terrifying.  Never had I been so intimidated by someone in my life – but I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him know that.  In my mind, I was looking fierce, my eyes narrowed and my jaw clenched, but my feet betrayed me.  I didn’t realize that I had been backing away from Harry until I bumped into the oven, the heat from it barely escaping out of the sides and top onto my shoulders and arms.  Harry came closer to me until he was forced to stop because of the plate of biscuits I was still holding.  My eyes flickered to the adjacent counter where a few of my knives were, but it didn’t matter.  I was trapped.

Harry glanced down at the plate in my hands and then back at my face. “You have a real attitude problem, you know that?” he asked quietly, dipping one of his long pinky fingers into the cup with the honey in it.  The condiment dripped slowly from his finger and I tried not to seem too mesmerized as his tongue wrapped around his finger and licked the sweet honey off.

“I don’t see my attitude as a problem,” I said sternly, trying to keep my cool.  I knew Harry was trying to break me.

The corner of Harry’s mouth twitched as he tried to inch even closer to me.  I clutched the plate between us more tightly, almost trying to force it back into his gut so he might scoot away from me.  Unfortunately for me, Harry grabbed the plate and took it out of my grasp.  He took another step toward me, dipped his finger into the honey again, and held it up right before my face.

“Open,” he said, his eyes flicking to my mouth. 

I gulped inaudibly and shook my head.

A deep growl sounded from inside Harry’s chest, just inches away from me.  I couldn’t help but start breathing harder.  He was making me nervous. “Open,” he ordered again, not blinking as his eyes scanned my face.  Once again, I was betrayed by my body.  My mouth opened just the slightest and I could see Harry’s eyes darken as my tongue and lips wrapped around his pinky, sucking the honey off of his finger.  Jesus, what am I doing?

The second Harry looked back into my face, I turned my head and closed my eyes.  He chuckled darkly, his breath falling onto the side of my neck before he whispered, “That boyfriend of yours sure is a lucky guy.”

I inhaled sharply and started to turn and tell Harry to shove off, but when I looked, he was already gone.