Things to read (For myself and anyone else).
Yours*
Summary: The third part to Mine*
Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, is out of town when you need him most.
And Harry is never one to leave you unsatisfied.
So, he calls in his right-hand man to help.
Word Count: 5.9k
*Contains Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*
“Well, well, well. Look who’s finally home.”
Your cheeks flush as you walk through the door of the apartment, eyes immediately landing on Asher, who sits on the couch.
He’s got a phone cradled between his shoulder and his ear and he wears a teasing smirk as he watches you walk in.
You laugh at his comment, tossing your things onto a nearby chair. “Hi.”
“Hi, sweetheart,” he greets, finger tapping the spiraled cord. “Everything go all right?”
“It did. Paul was very nice.”
“Good,” he replies, seemingly pleased. “Good. Then we’ll keep him on rotation.”
People Pleaser
Harry Styles x fem! bandmate reader
summery: Y/n gives too much and Harry is the only one to give back.
Angst(kinda) to fluff!
If you were to ask the public, ‘Who embodies love on tour?’ The majority, if not everybody would be quick to conclude it was Harry. He was the front man, it was his tour. A man who grows flowers with his voice and encourages affection between even the most different strangers.
If you asked the people involved, they would say Y/n Y/l/n.
Y/n is a woman with so much empathy she walked in others shoes more than her own. She spends her free time devoted to helping her friends and family. Constantly doting on them despite how grave the situation seemed.
So yeah, if you were to define HSLOT, it would be Y/n, Y/l/n. The pianist who sat quietly in the back of the stage, tucked away behind Sarah and Pauli, quiet as a mouse.
——————————————————————————
The sun was high, burning into the black chevron of the HSLOT Wembley stage floor. The white and black paint radiating vastly different temperatures in the June heat. The backtracks boomed through the stadium, muffling the farther backstage you got. Humidity suffocated everything in a sticky wetness.
Harry was dancing in a black bunny shirt, sleeves rolled to his shoulders and shorts shorter than my own. Today the sun was more brutal than ever and the effects were obvious. Skin was redder than before and water bottles could be found empty and scattered beneath the instruments. The HSLOT band was huddling under the small amount of shade they could find over the small overhang mounted on the stage. Lucky for me, because of how tucked away my space was, I had full access to the cool shade and the slight breeze of the AC blasting through the backstage area. Mitch, however, due to his front and center stationing, was falling victim to the peak heat of the day.
Harry hummed into the microphone, lazily speaking numbers out of order to get a laugh out of anyone, though the heat seemed to be getting to him too as he seemed out of his usual pre-show element. The only thing there seemed to be more abundance of than Harry’s pitiful jokes, was the sweat drenching each and every one of us.
“Y/n/n?” A soft voice called from just in front of me.
Mitch stood just in front of Pauli who was stuck half in the sun and half in the shade, his body squished into the darkness. His hair was matted with wet and held up tightly in a man bun, his shirt drenched in sweat more so than the rest of us.
“Eh, Im sorry to ask but would you mind if we could just switch positions for just a bit? I’m overheating over there and need a small break.” He pleaded.
Ever the people pleaser, the urge to stay in the shade was pushed down and away as my body moved quicker than my mind. I was eager to make Mitch happy, loving the satisfaction helping a friend out gave me.
He traded me a small hand held fan for my perfect shady spot. Though the plastic wings barely moved and the air barely soothed the heat, the thought was nice enough of him to suggest.
So I stood in the sun, the rays casting down on me like a blanket that could only be described as hell on earth. Sweat collected more aggressively on my forehead but the quick look over to Mitch, who had a lazy smile on his face from the shade and the inconsistent AC gusts made it a whole lot more worth it.
By now we were on Satellite, Harry mumbling the song, waltzing over to Elin to make sure she was still feeling okay. It was moments like this that I believed we were soulmates. Bonded together by the environment that seemed to tug us together like some sort of gravity. His straightforward kindness and appreciation one of his best qualities that I loved.
I let myself marinate in my own wetness, my legs heavy from the heat and my cheeks growing sore from the sun. My eyes grew heavy and the fan grew weaker and weaker. Truthfully, I was struggling.
“Y/n..?” I heard a small yell from Sarah, who I was sure was boiling surrounded by all that plastic and metal, despite the shade. She was still blocked off from the AC air, so the heat might as well have been just as bad.
I nodded to her, making my way over cautiously, the floor slippery with the dew from the humidity and the sweat dripping off our noses.
“What’s up, babe?” I smiled, leaning against the edge of the platform her drums were set on.
“I’m struggling a bit here. I’m a little trapped.” I raised an eyebrow, ready to take a seat to listen to what she had to say. I wondered if it was about the baby or if it was a mental block. I was ready to be a good friend when she needed it.
“Do you think I could borrow that fan? Just for a second? It’s like a hotbox in here.” My eyes drifted to the soft vibrations rumbling through my palm, the soft buzzing sound from the hand held fan spinning softly in all its neon green glory.
Forming my lips into a thin line, I nodded, plastering on a smile and reaching up to hand it to Sarah.
She was thankful for my generosity, flashing me a smile and holding up a weak thumbs up. I reflected her gesture, hunching my shoulders as I spun to return back to the spot I’d taken in the sun.
Just now, I began to realize how much I took that tan for granted. Even the soft wind was able to move the still air that casted over the UK today.
My heavy feet turned into cinder blocks and my eyes became unbearably heavy. I seemed sway on my feet a little, every blink becoming stickier as my eyelashes bunched together more and more. It felt like hours going by. Realistically it had only been five minutes, but everything moved in slow motion now.
I think Harry was singing Matilda now, but it seemed to be silenced by the clogging of my ears. I felt faint suddenly, my body too heavy to hold up. I felt myself stumble. It was usually now I would focus all my attention in on his beautiful melody, but my ears seemed to reject any sound whatsoever other than shouts and belly laughter across the stage.
“Hey Y/n!” I heard loud and clear, the bubbly voice belonging to none other than my best friend. The man who I’d been stuck with since his very first show and the person in my mind that hung the stars and moon single handedly in my life. The closest thing I had to a home on tour, Harry.
I’m not sure if I was able to lift my lips into a smile or not, everything blurring together in a mushy mess. It was like I was on psychedelics while being totally sober.
Trying to remain polite, I tried to be more welcoming to him, reaching up to wave only to find myself stumbling back into the elevated stage platforms, hands slamming into the wood so hard the corners caused red lines to form, blood peaking in blots on my skin.
“Y/n!” He sounded more frantic now, not as light and airy like before. The sound of a microphone falling to the ground was ear piercing, if I could cover my ears I would. His feet sounded heavy, the sound echoing through the empty area like bricks. My elbows collapsed under the pressure of my body and my knees buckled.
I waited for the ground to come, braced for it even. Ready to bruise my face and bleed from the nose. But it never came. Instead I was wrapped in a wet body, my face smushing against a hard chest.
“Shit, can I get some medical help?” Harry. Harry had caught me. How quick he was to rush in to help.
I couldn’t quite make out his face with how jumbled up my brain was from the heatstroke I was almost sure my body was going through right now, all I saw was black dots and blurry pink lips moving quickly. I think he mumbled, “You’re okay, it’s fine.” But maybe that was an illusion I made up for some sort of comfort.
We met eyes, a worried shock painted on Harry’s face before I was met with the soothing darkness of sleep.
——————————————————————————
I woke up to a cooler climate. A buzzing sounding through the vent on the ceiling. Tassels of pink and yellow blowing in the wind. I had an ice pack taped to my forehead and one wrapped around my stomach with velcro.
My head was pounding with one of the worst headaches I’d ever dealt with in my entire life and my eyes were aggressively watering despite my excessive wiping.
I tried to sit up, but could only groan with how sore I was, my hand pressing against the ice pack quickly.
“Y/n, oh thank god.” I felt the couch dip by my head, Harry’s body kneeling on the ground in front of my face and his head hovering over mine as he hunched over me. The carpet ruffled beneath his knees as he settled into place. His breathing was slightly jagged, a little quick. Maybe in his panic it had picked up. Compared to mine, which was slow and steady. A good long sleep will do that to you.
“Did I faint?” My mouth was dry, so everything that came out of my mouth was strained and rough. Sandpaper scratching my vocal cords.
The question was obvious, I knew I had gone down before I even fell. I knew I was going down as soon as I handed away the shady spot and the fan. Maybe not directly, but that small tugging feeling that fought briefly with my body knew. I couldn’t help but let the smallest smirk grace my lips, trying to be funny and light hearted in a time of need.
“Gave everyone a proper scare, really did. Went down pretty fast.” He lifted an arm from his sides to gently move the ice pack from my forehead, sensing the slight discomfort it was giving me, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. We watched each other quietly in the quiet of the communal dressing room.
His smile was infectious, always was. Harry had that kind of bunny tooth smile that made my stomach do secret summersaults and flutter occasionally. Despite the strict platonic relationship we’d established, it was hard to not fall for the other half who understood the urge to put others before myself just as well.
Lost in the dreamy thought of him, I snapped back to see the white smile slowly wipe off his face, eyebrows pulling together in worry and his gaze becoming less lighthearted and more serious.
“Was it dramatic? Could I win an Oscar for it?” I joked, lightening up the mood, or attempting to.
“Yes, and yes. Would’ve swept them, I think.” We laughed weakly, not finding the situation funny but the inability to stay so serious for so long amusing.
“We shouldn’t have had soundcheck outside. I knew it was too hot out, I’m sorry.” The warm bareness of his fingers engulfed mine gently, his thumb brushing my knuckles so light it almost barely ghosted over my skin.
“It’s not your fault, I made a couple bad choices that got me there.”
“Such a pushover.” I snorted, removing my hand from his in fake offense to his comment, though it was both true and not in any sense mean or bad intentioned.
“And to think, I had the perfect AC spot in the shade too!” We continued to joke, not finding anything about this at all serious. We probably seemed fucked in the head to the outside perspective. Who treats heat stroke like it meant nothing?
“I need to learn how to say no.” Harry silently agreed, eyes flicking up to mine slowly, almost like he was tracing my body in an outline in his head. Saving a mental photo of his best friend covered in sweat, melted ice and plastic icepacks.
“You do.” I smiled.
“I know.” He raised a brow.
“You do. Can’t have that happening. Scared me.” His sudden confession lacked any previous lightheartedness that we’d bounced off of each other just moments before.
I grabbed his hand again, now my thumb was the one to merely ghost over his skin smoothly.
“I know, I’m sorry. Don’t wanna worry you.” It was the most sincere thing I’d said all day. The only thing I’d truly meant really. All those “My pleasures” and, “Of courses” only being half hearted and made based solely on the idea that someone else could benefit from it more than I would.
“I love you.” Silence hugged the room around his confession. Not that we hadn’t exchanged the sentence consistently. Throwing it around so much it was a habit to tell each other before we left any room or made a joke so good it deserved the praise. But somehow, the words sat different than before. They held more seriousness and more honesty than the other times, and I couldn’t help the giddiness it gave me.
“I love you too.” Maybe if the situation wasn’t so dramatic and the heat wasn’t getting to both of us incredibly bad, maybe then it wouldn’t have happened. Some sort of forced confession out of the blue.
He showed no signs of having any interests in me. Other than the constant presence he seemed to enjoy having in my life and the fact that nobody knew me like him, he could have fooled me completely.
“Yeah?” He laughed through his teeth, breathy and light.
I nodded slowly, sure of myself but shy on the idea he could be playing with me. He would walk me to the door of hope and send me home crying. Maybe it was the feeling of giving so much and never getting anything back. Maybe it was the all too familiar feeling of being used because of the overflowing empathy I was dealt at birth and the nagging persistence in my mind ordering me to please the people around me that was responsible for the twinge of doubt I held to him. But his eyes held kindness and full trust, I couldn’t help but feel that fluttery feeling.
It could have been from the heat, but most likely from him rushing the blood from my heart straight to my cheeks.
“I hope you mean it in the way I think you mean it, because if this is the heat stroke playing with my feelings, I’m about to look really stupid.” My arms outstretched around his neck, pulling him to my lips. My fingers tangling between his puffy curls and damp with the sweat beaded on the back of his tanned neck.
His kiss was just as sweet as I expected it. It wasn’t an intricate make out with a long battle between our tongues. It was needy, but not in a rushed way. It was short, but did more than any sloppy kiss could possibly say.
“Is now a good time to say I only see you as a friend?” I couldn’t help but silently laugh at that. My chest moving up and down while my mouth was pulled into a large smile that broke out on my face.
Harry was still so close, yet to pull back completely as his breath fanned my nose and his forehead almost touched mine.
“Now that I’ve wooed you, does this mean you’ll let me play tonight?” His lips silenced mine, pressing hard and smooth against each other. He pulled away with a wet release.
“No.” For the millionth time, we laughed. We laughed, feeling happy. Content that I was okay, that this was okay. That we were whatever we were. Maybe we had crossed the line between strictly platonic. Maybe we were towing the line between lovers and best friends. But it didn’t matter because whatever we had was warmer than the June heat and bigger than any crowd Wembley could pull in our hearts.
It was all some sappy story of the girl who gave too much and the only man who gave back, very on brand for the HSLOT crew.
Maybe heat strokes could be good.
Anonymous
sent a message
can we plsss get harry’s reaction when y/n first sang the nonsense outro about him??
i love this series so much!!!
A/N: so this happened pre-married!ynrry !!
Despite the massive arena, fans were quick to spot Harry, Jeff, and Jenny (YN’s manager) in their seats reserved for family and friends. He puts a hand over his heart, blows some kisses, and gives some friendly waves at some excited fans surrounding him.
There’s no question about how much fans love to see the two at each other’s shows. Despite the struggle of having to split their attention between the one on stage and the one in the audience, it’s all worth it when seeing the two at the same show.
Throughout the night, Harry’s been dancing in his spot, singing along to every song, a red solo cup in his hand–all while looking fondly at his fiancée on stage.
Tonight is especially a good night since it’s the first night YN plans on singing Nonsense live with Harry in the audience. She’s already sung the unreleased song a small handful of times and it never fails to put a smile on her face to see the fans go crazy when it pops up on the setlist.
She shouldn’t be surprised by the crowd already knowing the lyrics and screaming/singing them back to her. But there’s no denying that the most anticipated part of the song is when YN creates outros that are tailored around whatever city she’s in. Tonight was no different. Tonight, she wrote a little something special for this show in particular.
Coffee Talk | H.S
pairing: boyfriend!Harry x fem!reader
warnings: it’s supposed to be like a podcast episode so it’s a little long and has a lot of dialogue—just did some experimenting, lmk what you guys think :)
overview: Harry is a guest on your podcast.
a/n: Clearly, I’ve been listening/watching a lot of podcasts. I just like hearing people talk. Reader’s co-host, Mable, is inspired by Selena Gomez <3
Coffee Talk Ep. 96: (Y/n)‘s Boyfriend, Hobama, and Marriage
“Hello friends and welcome back to another episode of Coffee Talk! I’m your host, (Y/n), and I hope you are all doing well!” You waved at the camera doing your usual intro.
You did a drumroll with your hands on the table and continued, “Now, we have an exciting episode for you guys today. You have been asking—basically begging—for us to get this person on the pod and it’s finally happening today! So grab a blanket, get some snacks, and get comfortable, because this is gonna be a fun one!”
baby fever
summary - it’s wembley night one and you are really warm and pregnant
word count: ~1k
pairing: husband!harry x pregnant!reader
a/n: you can count on an anxious ellie the night before her harry concert to pull through with a blurb
Backstage was chaos.
A good chaos though. The night of a show is always so hectic backstage. A good buzz of people rushing for final checks and enjoying a drink in efforts of their hard work putting the show together.
Mitch was tending to Sarah and their baby.
Madi was vocally preparing for her big moment.
Jeff was here, on the phone as always.
Harry was nowhere to be seen.
And you. Well you couldn’t move far with the size of your baby bump anymore.
Anonymous
sent a message
I have an ideaaa so maybe you like to write about it. Imagine harry having a long term girlfriend or even wife but they are so private and harry protects her so much that nobody in the general public really knows anything about her or their relationship and the fans eat up every single information or content they can get about her and their relationship.
Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh Mysterious Girl.
masterlist || ask me anything <3
authors note - this is my first time doing an instagram concept of sorts and i wanted to make it easy on myself and use manips of harry with someone who i chose queen selena, please don’t be harsh on me and enjoy. 🫶
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2013.
liked by username, username and 413 others
harryupdates, Harry spotted going on a park walk with a mystery girl in London today!
tagged, harrystyles
view all comments,
username, who is she?
username, sorry but no
the making of stomper
harry styles x reader masterlist
summery: harry has his wife make the feature of his new music video
a/n: reader is described as an engineer and the "flashbacks" are italicized
“Satellite was inspired by my love of Wall-e.” Harry explained. “I love the little guy, looking around in search for his point of life—so human, really.”
~
“I need your skills.” Harry ambiguously stated, rushing into the bedroom and meeting Y/n who was relaxing on the bed on her laptop.
"Come again?" Y/n laughed, confused by her husbands question and vaguely raunchy implications.
Harry climbs on the bed, sitting between his wife's legs on his sock-clad feet, yes, the pair with holes in them. "I have an idea and I need your help building it."
Harry gave a sweet smile, the face he poses whenever he wants Y/n to build something for him, first it was a new camera, fixing up a new engine for an old car harry had his eyes on, and any other little thing Harry wanted. Y/n never minded of course, she enjoys creating new things and Harry was always there to help by any means he could. She enjoyed working on other things besides work--which at her level typically involved designing, no actual building.
Anonymous
sent a message
hiii
Did you see the video from harry’s last concert?? Where he’s flirting with a fannn!! Plzzzz can you write about it but with y/n in the crowd and she's his girlfriend also love your writing <3
Thank you,,
shoot your shot
a/n: i love a jealous!yn moment <33
“Your sign says, ‘help me shoot my shot’.” Harry reads out a fans sign.
You scream from where you’re stood, just over by the Hollywood pod with Brad. Watching your boyfriend perform never gets tiring, especially when he has really sweet interactions with his fans.
i’m on the roof… (2)
notes: angst (with a happy ending), ex!harry, alcohol consumption, use of she/her. love is a game for fools to play and all that :-)
“You sound like a fridge magnet.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeff turns around, iced drink still in hand– the other holding a colour-block jumper.
She shrugs– it seems like shrugging and pursing her lips are the only reactions she’s exercised since that night.
“Means you’re talking shit, I’m bored,” she sniffs, wandering her hands between racks of clothing.
“I didn’t even say anything.”
“You didn’t need to. You’re giving me that– that pathetic look; the look you all give me when I do or say something sad,” she walks a bit further away from him, but is still within earshot.
Jeff stops, and turns his whole body to where she is. She picks up a crop top, and purses her lips– again.
Jeff sighs, and shakes his drink, the ice making a pleasant sound in the plastic. “You didn’t say anything, did you?”
With a roll of her eyes, she sits on one of the stools. She looks away, heart heavy, and when she turns back to him, he’s smiling.
“What?” She asks.
He doesn’t say anything, and instead, he copies the shrug she gave him earlier.
“What, Jeff?”
“Just–” he says, shrugging again. “Just ask me.”
“Ask you, what?”
“Him.”
i’m on the roof…
warnings: coke mention. angst with no happy ending (for now). mentions of cheating. love fucks you up!
“You need to come, now.”
She looks at the contact name once again, taken back by the fact that Jeff Azoff is calling her in the middle of the night.
Sure, it wasn’t as though they weren’t friendly– they were friends, but she always felt like Harry had gotten all the friends in his corner in their breakup. Jeff, Glenne, Tom… she knew they were his friends first, and that she was only introduced to the little group after they started hanging out, but in that short amount of time, they all became close friends.
“What?” She can’t help but stutter. “Where?”
“To ours. I know you’re in LA… it’s sort of an emergency.”
She shakes her head, and looks at the man watching him from the kitchen island, a cup of tea in hand. “I don’t understand… why?”
“Y/N, just come. Please.”
She lets out a sigh. “I’m not coming unless you’re telling me what’s going on,” she makes eye contact with the man, and he sends her a smile, as if trying to lighten the mood.
It doesn’t help.
Jeff swears under his breath.
“It’s Harry.”