harry styles boxer

Boxer Harry

You didn’t really like boxers and man buns before you met Harry. And you didn’t really like him before you got to know him. He seemed so rude and cocky but then you became friends and started hanging out for a while. Then it happend, he kissed you on your way to home and it was all blurry but one of the best nights in your life. Dating him was fun, extremely fun. But loving him and being loved by him was the best thing that ever happened in your life.

So here you are, a year after you two kissed in front of your old apartment, in the boxing hall waiting for him to finish his training. He’s wearing shorts and boxing gloves. His t-shirt is wet and his hair is in a man bun. You can pretend you’re not that affected of his hotness in front of him all you want but here’s the truth - you will never be able to deny how he takes you breath away.

“Done.” His trainer says and he sits on the floor completely exhausted.

It takes him some time to find you but when his eyes locks on you, it’s all gone. Your consciousness is empty now and you find yourself struggling to exhale your breath. It’s all getting worse when he starts walking to you. His hands are now free from the boxing gloves and your skin is hungry for their touch.

“Are yeh alright, babe?” He has this cocky smile on his face again and his lips look so kissable.

“Yeah” you murmur.

He bents down a little bit to whisper in your ear. “Good, ‘cause i can bet you’re dripping wet right now.”

Before you can ever think for an answer, you’re both in the dressing room. He locks the door and pulls you to the lockers. His lips travel from your neck to your jaw ans his cold hands are burning the skin of the back of your thigh. Your try to find something to hold onto because you can feel your knees bend so you bury your fingers in his hair which you set fee from his hair tie.

“I hate it when yeh tease me with these cute dresses” he says with a husky voice and his british accent is so evident now. “But i also love thinking ‘bout rippin’ ‘em apart.”

“Harry, please” you beg him as the pain between your legs is getting worse.

“What, babe? Tell me.”

“Kiss me, please just… Fuck me.”

Your words drive him crazy and soon you find yourself getting rid of his shirt completely naked in front of him. He lifts you and you wrap your legs aroung his waist. Kissing him is always passionat but never the same. He’s always doing something new that makes you dream of him at night. And here he is now controlling your mouth and massaging your booty in the same time. Here he is driving your crazy.

“Tell me how yeh want it.”

“Fast and rough” your words slip of your mouth before you can even think about their meaning.

“There yeh go then, baby.”

His fingers check you down there just in case. “God, yeh are so fuckin’ wet for me. Just as i thought.”

“Please…” You beg him one more time before he pulls his shorts and his boxers down and slides in you.

His trusts are fast and he’s biting the skin of your weak spot on your neck just as how you want him to. Your back is closely resting on the lockers and your mouth falls open when his fingers glide down between your bodies and start stimulating your clit.

“Harry” you moan loudly, making him lose his tempo and his trusts are uncontrolled now “I’m so close, please.”

He bury his head in your neck and moves his hand from your clit to your boobs. His other hand is tightly wrapped around your butt, holding you.

“Me too, babe, me too.”

One last trust in you and he freezes, coming with one of the loudest moan you’ve ever heard from him. Just as he starts trusting in you again your head lean on the lockers and you pull him closer not sure if you actually freeze like him or start tugging his hair.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” he moans as you keep trembling in his hands.

Cries leaves your mouth while he’s trying to mumble them with kisses because someone easily can hear you. After minutes of staying like that, not able to move, you two start remembering where you are and that you can get caught so you start dressing. When he unlocks the door and you go in front of him, you two see his trainer smiling.

“You naughty boy” he says to your boyfriend “Take care of this lady, i can see how she’s still trembling.”

Harry lifts you one more time and wink at his trainer as he pass him in the coridor and keeps walking to the exit of the building with you falling asleep in his arms.

Fool’s Gold | Chapter 1 | Harry Styles PT AU

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‘Who’s that?’ Niall asked nonchalantly his eyes still fixed to the screen along with everyone else. Apart from Frankie, the girl Niall had been happily calling his girlfriend for around six months, not a single person looked up to her from the screen. Olivia caught Frankie’s eye as she was giving Niall her ‘are you serious’ look and they shared a knowing smile and eye roll before Olivia walked towards the door. She kicked her jogging bottoms down her ankles, the elastic had ridden up where she’d been sat cross legged and it rested uncomfortably as she walked. She took another bite of the pizza slice in her hand as she pulled the door open, expecting some telesales person that she could fob of with a confused a look and an ‘I don’t understand’ in some undeterminable accent.

‘Harry.’ Olivia spluttered with a mouthful of pizza - ever the lady. She cleared her throat and swallowed the pizza, half chewed and scratching her throat a little as it went down. ‘Thought you weren’t back until tomorrow?’ Olivia grinned widely at his surprise appearance. Harry had been away for three weeks, in America, some convention thing that he went to every year and every year came back with crazy training ideas. He was in typical Harry attire. Too skinny black jeans that didn’t leave anything to the imagination, a white t-shirt, a little see through, and brown scuffed boots. You wouldn’t think he’d recently been on an eleven hour flight or that he was a personal trainer.

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Making You Stay

This was very much unplanned but I had to, thanks to all the torture from @hestylesno and @yetanotherharry. I’m still not used to writing smut so I apologize in advance. All constructive criticisms are always welcomed. Here are my other work.

You stand there hands fisting by your side as you watch him duck the hits. Each time making your heart do a flip in anxiety. You hated this. You hated this and even more so the feeling you get when you watch him do this. There was no reason for you to stand here and be tortured but at the same time you didn’t have the heart to walk out on him.

Your eyes follow him as he stalks his opponent planning his next move. Eyes furrowed, lips parted, biceps bulging through his t shirt, he was cut out for this. Thus he easily ditches the next blow thrown aiming right at his jaw. But that didn’t keep you from gasping loudly grabbing their attention. He gives you a quick glance, eyes falling on your hands clutching on your chest and back to meet yours. Your heart is still racing, threatening to explode out of your chest but your hands drop at his reaction, or rather the lack of. He looks at you for another second, the corner of his lips raising and falling, before shaking his head lightly making the sweat drop from his brow drip.

“Jerk” you mutter under your breath turning back to walk away, refusing to be tortured any further. But you don’t reach far when you hear a loud thud followed by a raspy, “Bloody fuck!”

You turn back to see Harry recoil onto him, gloved hands pulled to his chest as his eyes squeeze tightly breathing silent cusses. In a heartbeat you reach up to him, nearly tripping while getting in the ring. His opponent steps back giving you your space and rambling halfhearted explanations about how it isn’t his fault and its Harry taking a shot prematurely, though it all falls to deaf ears.

“Are you fine?” you ask leaning to him. Your hands rub against the sweaty shirt sticking to his back. He nods lightly before letting out a “Yeah” but you are not convinced and pull his wrists up. He opens his mouth to protest but it turns into a whimper as you tug the glove away exposing the red skin of his wrist.

The anger is evident in your eyes as you look up at him. His eyes lower in guilt, biting on the insides of his cheeks. He is embarrassed but that doesn’t keep him from protesting when you pull him to the corner of the ring. “I’m fine, love. ‘Tis jus- Ouch! Easy there. No, tha’s-wait bu’ “

You have to force him to sit as he takes his seat and you kneel down. The emergency box soon handed to you by his opponent before he disappears in the locker room leaving Harry alone to face your wrath.

“‘Tis nothing, swear. Jus’ a bit of a twist there but ‘m fine.” He keeps on rambling between gasps and cries as you don’t bother to go soft on him right now and he notices that.

“Love, are yeh angry? Please, don’t be.” He reaches up to pull a strand of hair back from your face to see the frown on your forehead. “Hey, you cannot blame me. Yeh were the one walking out on me. Would have left me if it weren’t for m’broken hand, yeah?”

He chuckles but you don’t find the humor when your lips are held in a tight line and your eyes are stinging. He shuts seeing your blazing eyes. You return to his hand tying the black elastic for support a bit more tightly than necessary, winning another whimper from him.

“First of all, it’s not broken. So if that was your plan, you failed. Secondly,” you sit back on your heels, hands falling on your knees as you meet his eyes. “wasn’t leaving you, you know that. But you cannot expect me to stand here watching you hurt yourself.”

“I didn’t-“

“Don’t tell me you were that stupid to take that blow intentionally. In fact, this whole thing is stupid. You just have to drag me here to watch you take hits upon hits and jus- “

You are cut off by his lips as he pulls you with his working hand. You try to push him but couldn’t when he is begging you with his lips smacking against yours and tongue swiping on it. You give up pulling him closer with his wet shirt and he obliges moaning in your mouth.

“You know I need yeh here.” He says through heavy breathing when he pulls away, eyes finding yours.

It breaks your heart a little to see him like this, all vulnerable and begging. When you both know that your relation has gone way beyond casual fuck but neither of you can bring yourself to say that out loud, not with the circumstance he is in.

You cannot bring yourself to answer that so you opt to press your lips against his avoiding his eyes. And he too picks on it as his hands squeeze around your waist pulling you closer. The kiss intenses as your tongues battle and your one leg swings over his to straddle him, feeling him harden right underneath you. But your senses recover for a second when you pull away and look around investigating your surrounding for any prying eyes.

“Harry, not here.” You moan as his teeth graze over your neck exposed to him and he hums in agreement pulling you up with one hand. It is a struggle when you are clinging on him, pepper kissing your way from his jaw to his chest and he has only one functioning hand to balance you both, nearly falling off the ring when tackling with the ropes and knocking into a punching bag while pawing at each other.

At last you find yourself in the haven of the musty locker room, which has now been thankfully abandoned by any other users allowing him to back you into a locker, your head hitting the locker door with a bang. His bandaged hand comes instinctively to cup head for an ineffective massage along with his muffled apologies as his mouth is still press on the crook of your neck, sucking hard determined to leave a mark later. His other hand grips at your waist, pulling you into him as he pokes in your stomach.

Your hands rest on his shoulders, halfheartedly pushing him to straighten your back.

“Yeah, pet?” he asks pulling back though his grip on your waist doesn’t loosen. The cool stale air of the room hits you through your now wet shirt soaked in his sweat and you shiver a bit forming the words in your head.

“Your hand.” You manage to say reaching for the wrapped hand from behind your head.

“S’fine, s’fine.” He says shaking his head pulling his hand out of yours. But you glare at him and he has to smile at your stubbornness.

He leans in to give a peck on your lips but lingers a bit longer letting his hand trace your curves and squeezing at the pudge of your hip before abruptly backing off requesting a breathy “Turn ‘round f’me, love, will yeh?”

And you do turn around but not before giving him a sharp look to see his blown off eyes and disheveled hair, puffing through his parted swollen lips and you know you would have obliged anyway. Your hands press against the locker as he kneads and squeezes your bum. A hand snaking in the front palming your sex earning a groan from you.

“Want me, pet?” He knows he is pushing his luck but you are too gone to say anything and just nod allowing him to reach for the button of your jeans. He struggles a bit, having to unbutton from a different angle at last making you come to his aid clucking at him in frustration.

“Shit!” he mutters kneading on your bare cheeks as your jeans pool around your feet along with your panties.

You can feel his hot breath fanning on your equally heated skin making you feel woozy. His fingers rim around your entrance before sliding in your folds. “Wet, are yeh? Wet f’me.” His smirk resonating in his voice.

You buck on his fingers but he removes them moving back.

“You got any rubber on yeh?” he is unsure of the question but sighs in relief when you nod. You make a futile effort to bend to get your jeans but your mind is hazy and your hands numb. Thankfully he is faster and more sober than you to get the foil from your back pocket and in a blink his boxing shorts joins your jeans on the floor.

You resume your position on weak knees when he sighs again. “Yeh ready, pet?”

You nod but he is too impatient as you feel him push in you at your first bob. He is big and you are tight, but it is a snug fit and you relax around him at last exulting in the feeling of being filled up.

There is a momentary pause for you to adjust to him before you nod against his shoulder and he impels making you both moan with each thrust. His parted lips are pressed on your sweaty temple as your head tilt back on his shoulder with your mouth stretching in a silent cry.

His working hand press beside yours against the locker supporting as a leverage while you pull on the other over you stomach, holding it right above the bandage to keep yourself from falling. You desperately try to be mindful of it but often miss your grip running over the bandage making his teeth nick at your skin.

“You’re so good t’me, love. Gonna stay, won’t yeh?”he says into your skin between moans and expletives.

You cannot believe he is doing this now, you want to fight him off and tell on him but right now you’re on your edge and he feels so good that you can only moan his name.

“Didn’t I tell yeh, I-I’m fine. Doin’ so good for you, yeah?”

A groan escapes your lips when his fingers add to pleasure you, rubbing on your aching button. You are zoning out, your ears buzzing. Your head rolls on his shoulders at the building up feeling and you can feel him approach his high as well when he gives a throaty groan in your ear getting sloppier with each thrust.

“Need yeh here. Need yeh with me. Need… I need…” his words dissolves in your bliss as you tremble with your orgasm. His hurt hand tightening over you to keep you from falling off. Soon his teeth grit beside your ears with the intensity of his high and you mewl at the feeling of him cumming inside you, though through a barrier.

After he is spent and you gain your senses, you both stay like that, close, clinging on to each other as a support, covered in sticky sweat drenched clothes, panting and you know you won’t ever be able to actually walk out on him.

“Did yeh good, didn’t I? Got something good out of breaking m’hand.”

You fall forward, your flushed cheek pressed to the cool locker, letting go of his hurt hand.

“Not broken.” You say between pants and though you can’t see his face you know he has that smug grin when he pats on your bum before walking past you.

You look at him pulling on his shorts as he throws the used condom in the bin, your mind going back to what he was ranting about when he was inside you. You have to screw your eyes shut recalling his desperate voice and pleading, hoping that it was only the pleasure talking. And yet feeling torn between your feelings and reasons.

“Take a shower.” You say to him after clearing your mind to contemplate on it later as he sits on the bench to ease his breathing. He looks up at you as you pull on your jeans.

“You’re leaving?” he enquires with an underlying panic.

You head to the door but look over your shoulder to find him still looking at you with tensed eyes and you have to smile at this 6 feet tall baby in front of you.

“I will for sure if you don’t drag your sweaty ass in the shower.”

And though you don’t wait to see his reaction you know he is giving that dimply smile that will always make you stay.

//COMING SOON\\


‘Go speak to her.’ Harry suggested bravely turning back to Niall who was still staring wondrously in her direction. Niall was quickly brought back to the table though and was lifting his Guinness to his mouth to hide his blushing cheeks as he shook his head viciously. ‘Oh come on man, you gotta at least try if you’re gonna stare at her like that.’

‘No, no way, not a chance.’ Niall blubbered taking another mouthful of the tar coloured tonic in his glass.

‘I thought you believed in Irish charm.’ Harry winked but Niall took to ignoring his curly haired friend turning his attention to Liam sat beside him, though there was no hope for a logical conversation judging by the swaying motion of Liam’s body. Harry huffed and glanced back to the girl on the stage who was now taking a bow to a loud round of applause from those who had been listening. Harry took the final, large, mouthful of his drink and stood from the table. ‘Wingman Styles to the rescue.’ He whispered mischievously before quickly scampering off before Niall could process what was happening. He glanced over his shoulder to the table of his friends once he was closer to the bar, Niall’s face was dropped his mouth wide as Harry smirked back at him and gave him a wink.

Fool’s Gold | Harry Styles Personal Trainer AU | Coming Soon

okay but why do i keep finding more and more boxing pictures when i’ve just finished F&K 

Boxers Fracture

Life was stressful for Harry;very stressful – from spending several hours at the studio to going home and working in the study.On top of that,he still had to go to the gym “’ve got to go love,makes me feel like ’m in routine even if my schedule is a bit of a mess at the moment’ and caring for the needs of his family.

He was a family oriented man,always putting the needs of his family first; they were extremely precious to him and he couldn’t be thankful enough that he had one.

His wife – someone that he promised he’d love until the day he died.She showed him the meaning of love; he knew what it meant but he’d never actually felt that way before her.He never felt his heart hurting from how much love it held.He never felt like he had a home..He never felt complete.Now not only did she love him but she gave Harry what he always wanted; a child..His son.

His son – a boy who was an exact replica of his father..A miniature Harry.When dating his wife,and even after marrying her,Harry never thought he’d ever love some one like he did her.He was wrong.Once holding his son for the first time, he nearly wept from how small the child was and that the baby was actually his. A baby he could take home and protect forever.

Along the years,the baby turned into a toddler,yet the vow of promising to protect the child never changed.How could it?

-

Harry was at the gym on Saturday morning. He went to the gym everyday,for cardio and weights, but the weekend was specifically for sparring.As usual he wore a hoodie and some gym shorts, but he’d take the hoodie off only to leave him in a white short sleeved top. He’d step into the ring (during the weekend) with his boxing gloves and would begin to spar with his trainer.

However, this Saturday was different.From having woken up late, and leaving the house in a rush, he found himself at the gym.He wore no gloves (not even a handwrap),his mind was all over the place. Maybe it was because of the fact that he was worrying about the things that had to be done; finishing the album,scheduling and attending interviews in the UK so he could jet off to LA,visiting his mum in Cheshire….The whole lot.

Thud!One hit.

Thud!Another hit.

Thud!Third hit.

Harry wasn’t giving a 100% so perhaps that’s why he did a right hook from the side instead of hitting straight ahead.He really should have been focusing.

As soon as he did a right hook,he dropped his hand,clutching it with the other as pain surged through him.He grimaced.He should have used the gloves. 

“‘M gonna have t’ stop there” he uttered out, looking at the trainer in front of him.Swallowing hard,he brought his undamaged hand and curled it into a fist before raising it to his lips.His trainer frowned,taking his boxing pads off to inspect the damage,”Think you’re gonna have to go to the hospital mate.” 

Harry stayed silent for a few minutes,considering whether to go or not.

“My missus will have my head,” He finally spoke up ,glancing at his fractured hand before pulling the ring’s rope up

”See you next week?”He questioned,eyebrow cocking as he turned back to peer at his mentor.

A reply followed shortly,“You haven’t even gone to the hospital yet!”

-

He entered the house with a quiet shut to the front door,not wanting to alert his wife and start an argument with her because of his bandage which was currently hidden by the sleeve of his hoodie..The first thing he noticed upon entering was that the house was silent which was weird because his son was quite an active lad.

The foyer was deserted,nothing to be seen aside from the shoerack where he took his shoes off.He began to stroll towards the stairway when he heard music being played softly in the kitchen.

Quickly moving around,he redirected himself to the living room.He wasn’t ready for the argument that was waiting to occur.

Walking silently into the room,he found his son playing with his toys. “Hey bud!” He spoke quietly.”Daddy!You’re home” His son exclaimed,glancing up from the floor.

“Yes I am,”Harry whispered loudly..

“Why are you whispering?” His son asked,eyes narrowing;the confusion was blatantly visible on his face.

Harry moved his sleeves upwards (with a bit of difficulty)to reveal the bandage.

“Oooh what’s tha’?”His son asked in amazement.He was a child,and you know how they are; getting amazed over insignificant little things,.

“’s a bandage.And if mummy sees,she’ll be angry with me.We don’t want tha’ do we?”Harry replied with a small smile etched on his face.

“Nooooo,” Harry’s little boy retorted,eyes widening in shock as they fell on the figure behind his father.

“Harry,can I talk to you in the kitchen?”A voice behind him spoke.He jumped.His lips parted as he glared at his son in a joking manner.He shook his head,speaking quietly, “You little bugger.Why didn’t yeh tell me?”

All his little son did was give a cheeky smile and mutter out an ‘oops’.

-

Harry knew he had to be in the kitchen but that didn’t stop him from walking like a snail.In fact, the thought of being in the kitchen was the reason he was walking so slow. He was admiring the carpet on the floor,the empty walls; just everything in sight.Although he was trailing slowly,it didn’t stop him from eventually reaching the kitchen.

“What’s that?” The question was shot at him the minute he took a step into the place

“‘s a bandage.Thought you knew wha’ it is;”Harry lightly joked as a nervous smile appeared on his face

“Harry,” His wife spoke sternly.He knew that tone; she wanted an answer now.

“Whaaa’? ‘S just a fracture.’S not like ‘m gonna die .It’ll heal don’t worry” Harry rushed out once seeing her face

“You better not cos I don’t know how I’ll be telling the kids,” She sighed contently,a grin appearing on her face.

“Wha’ kids?” The confusion was evident on Harry’s face.”We only have on-are you serious?!”His eyes shot up,ears perking as he waited for an answer.

Fists & Knives - Chapter 25

It was a perfect day.  The weather seemed perfect, the wind was blowing perfectly, and the city didn’t seem too busy for once.  I sat at a round table just outside of a tiny café in the middle of the city.  Already, I spotted paparazzi across the street, snapping pictures of me as they could.  A taxi screeched to a halt on the street beside my table and Clark bailed out of the back seat after paying the driver.  He was wearing a gray suit that actually fit him and a tie that didn’t look 10 years old.  He plopped down at the table across from me and grinned.  “I’m really glad to see you again,” Clark said, reaching across the table and grabbing my hand.  

I pursed my lips into something like a small smile and nodded once.  “Thanks for agreeing to meet.”

“How have you been?”

“Fine.  Yourself?”

“Fine.  Still cooking for Styles?”

“Of course.”

“And you’re being treated well?”

“Definitely,” I confirmed.

Clark nodded slowly. “Good.”

“Yeah.”

I glanced across the street at the group of paparazzi snapping pictures.  I could see the headlines for tomorrow. Something about me being a cheater and a liar and a bad girlfriend.  Clark followed my gaze and shifted in his seat when he saw the paps.  “What did you need to see me for?”

“I need to piss Harry off.”

What?  Why was I saying that out loud?  Why would I tell Clark that?

“So he can win his fight?”  Clark asked.  How did he know?

“Yes…” I admitted.

“Well, I know what will really piss him off,” Clark said smugly, leaning forward across the table and grabbing my face.  He planted his lips firmly on mine and held the back of my head so I couldn’t pull away.  I could almost hear the cameras snapping photos faster.  When Clark finally let go of me, I fell back into my seat at a complete loss for words.  Over Clark’s shoulder, I spotted a tall, dark figure approaching us from down the street and immediately began to explain.

“Harry… Harry, please, it’s not what it looked like,” I stuttered, trying to stand up from my seat, but I couldn’t.  It was as if my body was holding me down.

Harry ignored me, stormed straight up to Clark, and ripped him from his chair by the collar of his shirt.  Harry held Clark close to him with his one hand and repeatedly punched over and over and over, into Clark’s face and gut.  Blood started to run down Clark’s face and splattered on Harry’s plain, white shirt too.  No one around us reacted.  No one at the tables inside or beside us on the street even seemed to notice the fight.  I screamed louder.  “Harry!! Stop it!!”

Harry dropped Clark onto the concrete and turned to me, his nostrils flaring and his teeth grinding.  “I trusted you.  How could you do this to me???”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-“ I pleaded, still attempting to get out of my chair.  I couldn’t. 

Harry stomped toward me and bent down to wrap his arms around my chest, squeezing me tightly. “How could you do this to me?” He repeated.  “How could you do this to me, Kennedy?”

I snapped open my eyes.

It was a dream.

Harry’s arms were around me.  He was holding me tightly.  We were laying in his bed. “How could you do this to me?” He asked playfully, kissing my cheek.  I sat up and looked at what he was talking about.  In the middle of the night, I had taken all of the sheets for myself. “Sheet hog,” Harry laughed, snaking his arms around my waist and pulling me to him again so he could kiss my cheek.

“Sorry,” I said quietly, kicking some of the sheets over to him with my feet.

Harry stopped kissing my cheek and looked at me. “You okay?”

“Fine,” I said, sitting up. 

“You’re sweating.”

I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead.  Harry was right.  “Just a bad dream.”

Harry frowned. “About what?”

“It was just…”

I was really supposed to meet with Clark today.  Last night, Louis told me that he would  take care of getting in contact with Clark.  Arnold said he would call the paparazzi and tell them where we would be so that they could take some awful pictures of the two of us together.  When Harry returned to the house, I helped him clean up his cuts and bruised eye but then pretended to be tired so that I wouldn’t have to talk to him anymore.  I was worried he would ask me what was wrong or what my plans were for tomorrow and I was scared I was going to give our plans away.  What kind of person was I?

I glanced back at Harry.  He had his eyebrows ruffled together and was waiting for me to answer.  I could see in his eyes that he was genuinely worried about me and my little bad dream. 

“A bad dream about you.”

“About me?” Harry sat up quickly and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his chest again. “What happened?”

“You just got in a fight-“

“Against who?”

“…Clark.”

Harry laughed. “Hopefully I won.”

“I think it’s safe to say that.”

“Why were we fighting?”

I swallowed hard. “I went out to meet him for lunch.”

“Why on earth would you do that?” Harry chuckled again.

Before I could stop it, I felt a tear trickle down my cheek.  Harry sensed my tense body and pushed me away from him so he could see my face. “Kennedy?  Are you crying?”

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Did you meet with Clark?  In real life?” Harry asked, his voice becoming less concerned for me and more angry.

I shook my head frantically. “No, no, I didn’t.”

Harry ran a thumb over my cheek but kept his distance still on the bed. “Why are you crying then?  What’s wrong, baby?”

I couldn’t do this.  I didn’t know why the hell I agreed to it the night before.  I was not going to be used as a weapon against Harry to simply help him win a fight.  Fuck that.  “Arnold and Louis-“ I sobbed.  I know that I was upset with myself, but I wished I could just stop fucking crying.  I never cried.  Trying to calm myself, I took a huge breath.  “Arnold and Louis thought you looked weak last night and said it was because I was distracting you.  They said you fight best when you’re angry and I was supposed to meet with Clark to make you mad but I can’t and I won’t and I refuse to be any part of their greedy little plots-“

Harry stood from the bed quickly and crossed his arms, putting a knuckle in between his teeth and pacing back and forth across the room.  He breathed slowly, all of the muscles in his body twitching as he stepped back and forth.

“Harry?  Harry you have to know-“ I slid to the edge of the bed on my knees and tried to wipe the tears from my face, but I couldn’t seem to stop them. “You have to know that I love you.  I agreed to meet with Clark-“

“WHAT?” Harry bellowed.

“I AGREED BECAUSE I wanted to help!  Arnold convinced me that it would be helping you win the tournament and I just didn’t think it through.  Please believe me, I’m so sorr-“

“Just shut the fuck up, Kennedy,” Harry snapped, swatting the air in front of my face.  I obeyed.

Harry paced across the room again and again and again.  I didn’t know what to say or do to calm him down.  I didn’t think it would be possible for ME to calm him down.  I was 33.333% of the reason that he was completely pissed.  Arnold and Louis had gotten their way without me even having to meet Clark.  Harry surprised me when he ripped open his bedroom door and stomped down the stairs to the main floor. “LOUIS!” He growled.  He flew through the kitchen, throwing a glass to the floor and shattering it as he did.  I rushed to the balcony and listened as Harry pounded on Louis’ door and shouted his name over and over.

“LOUIS! Open this fucking door right now!  I’m going to break it down if you don’t fucking open it!” Harry beat on the door for a minute more and then actually broke it down.  I cringed as I heard the wood break into little splinters and come off of it’s hinges.  My ears stayed perked for some kind of confrontation… some kind of screaming match… some kind of scream from a tortured Louis… but none came.  Louis wasn’t home.  Harry stomped back across the living room and soon enough, I heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs to the balcony again.  I spun around and waited for him to emerge in the doorway.  When he did, he started to walk past me to his room, but stopped and faced me.

“You were trying to help me.”

I couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement, so I nodded once.

“That’s one hell of a fucked up way to go about it, Kennedy,” Harry said harshly, running his fingers through his messy hair. 

“I know,” I croaked, a lump forming in my throat again. “I’m sorry-“

“Stop saying that!” Harry interrupted bitterly, taking a few heavy steps toward me. “I forgive you but I’m still pissed as hell at you.  I’m more furious with Arnold and Louis, but I just can’t wrap my head around you agreeing to help them-“ Harry growled and started to pace back and forth again.  “You know I’ve been trying to control my anger.  Why would you WANT TO PISS ME OFF? After everything you’ve done to try and help me?? What the fuck, Kennedy?”

Tears ran down my cheeks again.  If he didn’t want me to apologize again, what was I supposed to say?  “I-“ I breath hitched in my throat as I tried to control my tears again.  “I love you,” I managed. 

Harry stopped pacing and stared across the balcony at me, his eyes dull and gray. “Do you?  Really?”

I nodded and heaved as I tried to steady my breath.  “I really love you, Bear.”

Harry walked to me and grabbed the back of my neck like he used to when we were angry at each other.  “If you truly love me, you try and stay away from Arnold and Louis.  Louis is my friend but he’s a shitty person sometimes.  Arnold is a greedy bastard and will ruin anyone’s life just to get a little money.  Don’t do anything he tells you to outside of being a chef here, understand me?”

I looked at my feet and nodded.

“Kennedy, do you understand?” Harry asked, gripping my neck a little more tightly. 

I looked into his eyes and nodded again.  “I understand.  I promise.  I’ll stay away,“ I sniffled.

Harry’s eyes were still dark and his body was still tensed for a fight, but he reached up and wiped another tear from my cheek.  He let go of my neck and walked to his room, glancing at me once more and saying, “I’ll come down and get you when it’s time to leave for the fight.”

Then he closed the door.

In the time I had to myself all day, I decided it was better for Harry to be mad this way that it was for him to be mad about me going on a secret date with Clark.  Was I happy that backed out and told him our plans to piss him off?  No.  But he had forgiven me already for this – probably a little too easily, I’ll admit – and I’m sure it would have taken months for him to forgive me for going out with Clark.  He had every right to be furious with me for the rest of the day, though I wished he wasn’t.  Never in my life had someone been so mad at me and I didn’t know how to react.  How to make the anger go away.

As we walked down the hall to his room on the outside of the arena, he held my hand tightly, but not in a loving way.  He was tugging me along.  He didn’t have time to wait on me.  When we got to the room, he slung me onto the couch, changed, and started to warm up on his punching bag.  I was a little furious that neither Arnold nor Louis had tried to contact me or Harry today.  They must have figured I went through with the plan and decided to steer clear of the menacing Harry Styles until after he destroyed his opponent in the ring.

“Time,” Harry commanded of me.

“You’ve got two minutes,” I answered quietly, looking at my phone.

Harry sighed and took a swig of water from his bottle.  He reached into his bag and pulled out my bandana.  He handed it to me as I stood on the couch and tied it around his hair.  When I was done, he held out a hand to help me down from the couch and pulled me to the door.  We walked down the hall silently until we reached Harry’s entrance to the ring. “Meet me at my room afterwards.  I’ll take you home since Louis and Arnold have both run for the hills,” Harry said, dropping my hand.

“Good luck,” I said softly, standing on my toes to kiss his cheek.  He surprised me by leaning down and kissing my cheek too.

“I love you,” I said, sounding a little too desperate for him to say it back. 

Harry didn’t grin, but his gaze seemed to soften. “I love you.”

As I was about to leave, my phone buzzed in my pocket.  I pulled it out and looked at the text from Arnold.

Hope you had a good date today and that tonight won’t be a disappointment for me.

Harry read the text over my shoulder.  His breathing got heavier and heavier until he started to bounce on his toes and beat his gloves together in front of the doors.  Without looking at me, he growled, “Get to your seat.”

During the introductions, I scanned the crowds for Arnold and Louis.  I had the same seats as last time, but the seat beside me was empty.  I couldn’t spot either of them anywhere but knew they wouldn’t miss this fight.  I was hardly paying attention when the bell rang for the match to begin – Harry against a tall, slender individual named Robb Gordon.  He was a lot like Harry in the way he fought and the way he was physically built, but he didn’t stand a chance.  Harry was pissed.  Fuming.  Seething with anger.  I could see fire in his eyes from 30 seats up in the stands.  I just prayed that he wouldn’t kill this poor guy.  Harry didn’t look my way a single time during the fight which broke my heart, but I had to keep reminding myself that I completely deserved it. 

Despite his reckless anger, Harry was still good about letting Robb get an occasional hit on him to make the match look even throughout the three rounds.  However, when Harry was hitting Robb, his swings were stronger than ever and his gloves almost appeared like they were made of cement.  Blood splattered across the crowd with every hit Harry got on Robb but they loved it.  It was difficult to watch, mainly because I was the only one who knew that Harry wasn’t just fighting, but he was releasing his anger.  He was taking out the anger that I caused on someone who had no idea why Harry was furious. The anger was like steroids for Harry.  Never again.  Never ever again would I agree to do anything to make him anything but happy.

As the third round came to a close and it was apparent that Harry was going to win, I started my walk back to his locker room.  I took my time, hoping maybe he would meet me along the way and I wouldn’t have anymore time to myself.  I had been left alone all day to think about what I did and I didn’t think I could stand anymore of it.  Thankfully, just as I walked past Harry’s door to the ring, he walked back through it.

I smiled softly at him. “Nice fight, Bear.”

Harry nodded and walked beside me as I helped him untie his gloves.  He seemed calmer than he had been all day.  While I hated to admit it, Harry’s angry fighting was stronger.  Maybe I could help him learn to fight just as strongly when he wasn’t losing his mind.

Harry pushed through his locker room door and stopped immediately.  I ran into his back, not expecting the abrupt halt. “You okay, Bear?”  I peered around his body and stared into the eyes of the three people that needed to be on the opposite side of the earth at the moment – Arnold, Louis, and Clark.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped, stepping in front of Harry.  Who I was addressing, I wasn’t sure.  I guess I was talking to all of them. 

Clark stood up off of the couch.  “I waited for you in the city today for our date, but you never showed.  I figured you would be here, so I came and ran into Arnold.”

“You didn’t go on your date?” Arnold asked.

“No,” I said through gritted teeth. 

Arnold frowned but shrugged. “And you still managed to piss him off.  You’ll have to tell me what you did later. And Harry?  Good fight.  That’s more like it.  Tonight was much better than your fight last round,” Arnold said, clapping.  Louis was too busy on his phone to be paying attention to anything going on.

“You three fuckers-“ Harry started, stepping around me and throwing his gloves across the room. Everyone winced except for Arnold, who simply raised his eyebrows.

“What’s the problem, Harry?” He asked.

“You’re my problem, you self-indulging bastard.  You know I’ve been working on my anger for YEARS and now that I’m finally just a little bit happy, you want me to be angry again?  Just to make you rich?  Are you trying to mentally fuck me over for the rest of my life?”  I hadn’t realized that I grabbed Harry’s hand and was holding him back.  I was worried that I was going to see more blood tonight than I had planned to see.

“Harry, we were trying to help you win,” Arnold said, his gaze lowered and his voice laced with annoyance.  Arnold’s expression was one of hatred, probably because of Harry’s lack of gratitude.

“Fuck your help.  I don’t need your help.”

“Well SHE sure as hell isn’t helping you!  What are you going to do?  Help yourself?  That’s never worked in the past,” Arnold said, raising his hands in an awkward shrug.

Clark shifted on his feet and stuck his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. “I think I wandered into something I shouldn’t be a part of…” He said, inching past me toward the door.

Harry whipped around and snarled.  He lunged around me for Clark’s collar, like I saw in my dream.  I shut my eyes and waited for a punch.

“You certainly did,” Harry growled. “Get the hell out of here and never come back.”  He threw Clark into the door.  Clark groaned in pain and was trying his best to stand up and get out.  “If I ever see you around again – if I ever see you near Kennedy, I will end you.  Do you understand?” Harry spat.  Clark didn’t respond, but merely scampered out the door like the coward he was. 

“Harry…” Arnold started, but before he could say anything else, Harry walked to Arnold and struck him hard across the face.  Arnold collapsed onto the floor and whimpered.

“Never been hit before, I take it?” Harry asked as he stood over him. “Get the fuck out, you’re fired.”

Arnold struggled to get to his feet. “But- but- but Harry, I’ve got a contract to manage you for another five years-“

“Yeah, a contract with me,” Harry snapped. “I’m releasing you from that contract.  Get the fuck out.”

“Harry, you can’t do this to me.  I’m like a father to you,” Arnold said.

Harry’s eyes widened.  “You’re just as shitty of a father as my real one was.  Get the fuck out.”

“But-“

“GET THE FUCK OUT!”  Harry grabbed Arnold by his suit jacket and threw him across the room to the door.  Arnold looked just as Clark did, cowering by the floor and trying not to cry as his knees shook beneath his body and his sweaty hand struggled to grip and open the door.  No sooner had Arnold left did Harry grab Louis by the collar of his shirt too, but Louis put his hands up in surrender immediately.

“Were you ‘just trying tot help’ too???” Harry seethed though his teeth. 

Louis shook his head. “I’ve been around Arnold for so long that I just got used to going along with all of his plans.  He used to be a good guy, you know that.”

I was surprised at how calm Louis sounded even though he was about to get his face beat in.

Harry threw Louis back onto the couch and paced across the room.  “That’s a shit excuse.”

“That’s the most honest one I have.  I was caught up in the moment.  I want you to win, so I was trying to think of a way to, well, help you,”  Louis explained.

Harry glared at Louis. “Unfortunately, I’ve already fired my manager tonight so firing my assistant manager wouldn’t do me any good.”  Harry shook his head. “If everyone in this situation was trying to ‘help’ me, why did everything turn to shit?”

“I mean, you did have a strong fight…” I said softly, though I immediately regretted saying it.     

Harry looked defeated.  He knew that his strongest fights were the ones where he was angry.  “I’ve got round three tomorrow.  I’m going to fight and I’m not going to be mad.  If I win, I win.  If I lose, I lose.”

He glanced over to me and smiled gently.  Having been the first time he actually smiled at me all day, I took it as an “okay” to approach him and wrap my arms around his waist.  His arms slid around my back, a feeling I had been missing like crazy since this morning, and his lips pressed to the top of my head.

“Sure you’ll be okay with losing?” Louis asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Harry shrugged and kissed my hair once more. “I guess we’ll find out.” 

anonymous asked:

I. I KNOW REQUESTS ARE CLOSED BUT FUCK I CANT HELP MYSELF. BOXER HARRY AND HIS BEST FRIEND IS ALWAYS THE ONE TO CLEAN HIM UP AFTER FIGHTS LATE AT NIGHT AND THEY GET IN A FIGHT ONE NIGHT BECAUSE SHE'S WORRIED ABOUT HIM AND HE'S IN LOVE WITH HER AND HATES WHEN SHE YELLS AT HIM AND SHE'S IN LOVE WITH HIM AND WHATEVER MAGIC YOUR MIND CAN CREATE. AND SMUT SMUT SMUT.

One down… many more to go. ;) It got a little dark for a moment or two, but it just faces up to the real consequences of a sport like this, I guess (going off my very limited knowledge, so, you know. Salt. Pillars). x

Gentle reminder that requests are closed. Any new requests for structured pieces are going to be posted immediately to be catalogued in the “request” tag. Happy Friday, everyone! 

053. Know You

The locker room air is stale and still. It’s just the two of you with him on the bench and you in front of him, latex gloves on your hands and a bottle of disinfectant and a cotton swab in them. 

“Will yeh not look at me like that?” Harry asks tensely.

He should be asking for you to look at him at all.

“I’m fine,” Harry stresses to you. “Just a couple of bruises.”

You’re still not looking at him straight on, and when you grab his chin you do so roughly and you jerk his head a bit to dab at a cut on his cheek with disinfectant. Harry winces, but you don’t apologize. Your gaze is focused like a laser as you clean, the line of blood shrinking as you work.

He’ll have a scar.  It’ll be small and thin, but it’ll be there. It isn’t his first, and you feel nauseated when you think of all the ones to come.

“I’ve already called the doctor.” You don’t recognize your voice with how rough it is. Syllables drop in and out and you swallow hard and clear your throat. “The appointment is at 12:30 tomorrow.” 

Scans. To be sure that all he might have is a concussion.

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Fool's Gold | Chapter 3 | Harry Styles PT AU

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Story Page Here

Listen to Army Ellie Goulding
Dark times, you could always find the bright side
I’m amazed by the things that you would sacrifice
Just to be there for me
(P.S. It was so hard to choose lyrics, this whole song is Harry and Olivia to a tee) 

Word Count 4.6k

You were drinking whiskey the other night?’ She quizzed only half hoping he’d deny it. Part of her wanted him to say he had been so she could lay into him the way she’d been wanting to for the last three days, but had been putting off to spare his feelings.

‘I had one.’ Harry mumbled glancing up at her for a brief second. Olivia rolled her eyes and shook her head running her tongue along the inside of her teeth. Harry on whiskey was an image she’d gladly forget but knew she never would. For as long as she’d known him Harry had always been a fun drunk, all he wanted to do was dance, and sing, and hold onto his friends. Sometimes he got emotional but he never got angry. She never wanted to see it again. The way his eyes glazed over and he became virtually unrecognisable.

‘You know what it does to you Harry why would you do that when you were already in a state?’

‘I’ve told you to stop mothering me.’ He stared at her then. His eyes lifted, they were dull and lifeless, but staring nonetheless.

‘Stop acting like a child then.’ She countered dragging her fingers across her temples, and wondering how he couldn’t see it.

‘I’ve just broken up with my fiance cut me some slack.’ Harry mumbled, dead, green-grey eyes falling back to the TV.

‘Right that’s it get up.’ Olivia reached for the controls and turned the TV off before Harry could even realise what she was doing, before he’d even processed her words properly.

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Moments (Boxer!Harry AU)

“World Heavy Weight Champion second year in a row! This crowd is going crazy! What an impressive feat for Mr. Styles!”

Harry’s fists were still up in the air, the referee and his coach on either of his sides, a gigantic smile spread across his face as he hears the chants of his name from the crowd. He looks over to your seat and his heart sinks, the smile leaving his face immediately, because you’re not there. You’re not where you always were, you’re not where you promised you’d be tonight. His eyes rapidly rake over the audience, smiling and waving at people who were screaming for his attention, as he stepped out of the ring and started to make his way out of the arena back to his locker room.

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