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adore-laur · 20 days

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DAD HARRY BLURB

— i wrote this in less than two days, so sorry if it’s incohesive

——

With chopsticks delicately perched between his fingertips, Harry distractedly picked at the steaming bowl of spicy chow mein noodles in his hand. The bright glow of the TV screen was the only illumination in the living room, and his tired eyes were glued to some documentary about snow monkeys. Beyond the curtains was a pitch-black sky. The ocean waves outside were calm. A steady noise came from the humidifier. The ambiance was ideal for a good night's sleep, but your hyperactive mind made it a futile endeavor.

In the dead of night, your cheek found a cozy home on Harry's shoulder—it was sturdy, warm, and the collector of your tears. He was the one you leaned on most in the last nine months, when exhaustion and discomfort pounded into your bones. To quell your frustration, he massaged your swollen feet with attentive precision, shaved your legs when you couldn't see anything below your baby bump, adjusted to your hormonal mood swings with empathy, and cooked your favorite meals when getting out of bed felt like a chore. Above all, he made you feel beautiful each time your body changed. And as those changes came quickly and ruthlessly, he let it be known that his attraction to you wasn't fading. Not in the slightest.

In fact, it seemingly grew tenfold the moment you had told Harry you were pregnant. You noticed his gaze lingering on your body more often, with an obsessive hunger darkening his irises. Throughout your pregnancy, he paid special attention to the widening shape of your hips, the heaviness of your breasts, and the blooming swell of your stomach. He had documented the overall progression by taking weekly side-view pictures of your bump. He also wrote down milestones in his journal, like when the baby first kicked and where he had been when he found out the gender.

The obsession went both ways. With your zany hormones, you were more attracted to Harry more than ever. It was borderline insane how often you wanted to jump his bones. He gained some sympathy weight and let his hair grow out. He embraced his stubble, which was a weakness of yours since you first started dating him. Most tempting was how seriously he prepared himself for fatherhood—building the crib with his bare hands, deep cleaning the house to show his appreciation, reading parenting books and asking you to quiz him on the content, and simply doting on you when you weren’t feeling like the best version of yourself. Needless to say, you were insatiable around him, and he gladly entertained your desires with an equal amount of fervency. The flame of romance was never snuffed out.

When the documentary ended, you rubbed your eyes and sighed. Anxiety about knowing the baby could come any minute had made you an insomniac, hence the midnight TV and leftovers session with your husband who was also itching for something to happen. You both were getting a head start on sleep deprivation at least; not that it was something to brag about.

At almost forty-one weeks pregnant, your baby girl was taking her sweet time. The obstetrician had said you would have to be induced if nothing progressed in two days. While holed up in the house, waiting for the first sign of labor, you and Harry had tried everything to try to kickstart the process—walking along the beach, eating spicy food like the chow mein Harry cooked tonight, and even desperate rounds of sex every morning since your due date passed. Nothing worked, causing frustration to build on both ends. The hospital bags were packed and waiting by the front door, and impatience gnawed away at your sanity every time you looked at them.

"Gotta pee," you said, sitting up with a groan. Your lower back ached, one of the many reasons why sleeping was so unachievable.

Harry offered you his hand without a second thought, giving you leverage to get off the couch. The motion left you winded as you slowly waddled to the bathroom just down the hall, blindly touching the walls before reaching the light switch. You flicked it on, your eyes squinting against the harsh ceiling light. In the mirror above the sink, you stared at your reflection. Harry's shirt he lent you when your clothes no longer fit was stretched awkwardly over your stomach. You forewent wearing pants around the house because you simply couldn't be bothered. Altogether, you looked as miserable as you felt. As much as you were terrified to give birth, you just wanted to get it over with so you didn't have to feel so on edge all the time.

After emptying your bladder, you washed your hands and then stretched your back by resting your forearms on the sink and bending forward. Through the achiness, you thought about Harry and how he had politely demanded the baby to come out yesterday, speaking to your bump in a hushed voice like it was a secret conversation between the two of them. Her response was several fluttery kicks to his palm, to which Harry then blew raspberries against the outline of her tiny foot—or maybe fist—to coax her out. It obviously didn't work, but it was fun to watch her move around so actively. It was like she was teasing you both, saying, Not yet, Mom and Dad. It's warm and cozy in here.

You smiled, feeling a rush of happiness at the memory. Harry was going to be such a wonderful first-time dad. He was devoted, patient, and playful in all the right moments. You had no doubt he would slip into the role perfectly. It was evident in the way he treated you, how he treated his mother, and even how he treated strangers on the street. He had so much love to give. Compassion coursed through his veins.

When you straightened your posture, a weird sensation occurred. You felt a peculiar pop, then a trickle of fluid down the insides of your thighs. You stood stock still, your fried brain working extra hard to process the situation, then looked at the floor, seeing a continuous drip of clear fluid pooling on the tiles. You knew what that meant, but you were paralyzed as glorious relief and sheer panic wrestled with your heartstrings. Had you manifested it? Or had time merely lapped you until you got dizzy? It was impossible to comprehend how the months had gone by at warp speed and also excruciatingly slow.

"Harry?" you called out apprehensively, resting your head against the wall.

A few seconds passed before he casually replied, "Yeah?"

You blew out a shaky exhale. "Come here, please."

Silence hung in the air until you heard the creak of the wood floors and the soft padding of his socked feet. You met him halfway in the dark hallway, standing awkwardly while holding your bump. The bathroom light spilled out like a spotlight shining down on you. Surely, he could see "it's time" written all over your face.

"Hi," you whispered, slightly embarrassed about the unusual state you were in. "Um... I'm pretty sure my water just broke."

Harry’s hands reached out like you were a timid animal and he was trying not to spook you. His eyes were wide as they roved over your body, unsure of how to proceed. He eventually stepped closer, then crouched to observe the fluid coating your bare legs.

"Yeah, I think it did," he said hoarsely, his voice quiet with awe. “Those noodles must have done the trick."

A hysteric, breathy laugh bubbled up your throat. "No, I think she's finally ready to meet us."

At those words, Harry's features transformed into barely restrained excitement, with deep dimples appearing beside his gorgeous smile. He cradled your bump and spoke against it, saying, "About time, baby girl. We've been going stir crazy out here."

A tear trailed down your cheek, the emotional reality hitting you with full force. This was it. This was the moment your life began to tilt toward a new purpose.

The pleasant thought was short-lived as a twinge of pain sparked in your lower abdomen. You grunted and pressed against the spot with your palm, a grimace tugging at your lips. Your belly tightened, causing you to grip Harry's shoulders for support.

"Oh, it's really happening," he said, standing and rubbing his forehead in shock. "Okay. All right. Should we..."

"Hospital," you mumbled, pinching your eyes shut.

"Right. Good thinking." Harry broke out of his trance and carefully guided you down the hall. He situated you on the couch before stressfully spinning in a circle, figuring out a plan of action. He hurried over to the two big duffel bags by the door and hefted them over his shoulders with ease. He then reached for the bowl where the car keys were, and you watched him open the front door while unlocking the car and pressing the button to open the garage door. After starting the engine and shoving the bags in the trunk, he came back inside.

"It hurts," you said weakly, groaning while hunched over. It was only going to get worse until the nurses gave you an epidural injection, which was also going to hurt. Hours, maybe even days of physical pain lay ahead, and the prospect made you want to weep.

"I know, sweetheart," Harry said. "Let's put your coat and shoes on, then we can leave."

"Hold on. Just... wait until this contraction passes."

He nodded and sat beside you. "What can I do?" he asked softly, his leg bouncing as he scanned your face.

There was no suppressing your brutal honesty when in the thick of dealing with pain. "Brush your teeth. Your breath smells—ow—like chow mein."

He blinked, then smiled like your complaint completely unaffected him. "Yes, ma'am."

While he obeyed your command, you got up and slid your sandals on. The contraction gradually subsided, but you still felt a heavy pressure near your pelvis. She was wasting no time announcing her arrival.

Harry returned with a sweatshirt and a pair of sneakers on. His hair was tied up, and despite his confident walk toward you, you knew he was nervous based on his fidgety hands and rosy cheeks.

"Let's go," you said, standing by the door.

Harry stared at you with an affectionate gleam in his eyes. "You don't have any pants on, my love."

You glanced down, raising your brows in realization. "Whoops."

He was already on his way to the bedroom, laughing and calling out behind him, "Shorts, leggings, or sweatpants?"

You struggled for an answer since none of those options would fit well enough, hence the going shamelessly pants-less at home during the past month. Eventually, you decided, "My beach skirt, please."

He quickly retrieved your long sarong wrap skirt that was made out of soft, breathable fabric. He helped you into it, adjusting the stretchy waistband over your bump. It looked ridiculous paired with Harry's casual T-shirt on your upper half, but you were comfortable, and that was what mattered most.

"Can I take a picture of you like this?" Harry asked.

You frowned. "Why?"

"Because you look beautifully disheveled right now, and I want to keep this memory forever."

With a scowl, you reluctantly agreed with a grumbled "Fine."

He took out his phone and captured a couple of candid pictures of you leaning against the wall with your hands cupped under your bump. You had no desire to smile or pose.

After shoving his phone back in his pocket, he exhaled and cupped your cheeks. "Ready to have this baby?"

You stared into his eyes, getting lost in their gentleness. "My body is screaming yes, but my mind says absolutely not."

Harry kissed you, a cool blast of mint gracing your lips. "I'm in your corner, okay? I'll be at your beck and call in that hospital room."

"Can you give birth for me?"

He chuckled, smoothing his thumbs under your eyes—you hadn't realized they were damp. "I would in a heartbeat if that were possible."

“You’ll regret saying that,” you replied dryly. “It’s not going to be a pretty sight.”

“We’ll see.” Another contraction ensued, a little more persistent than the last. Harry noticed and cautiously led you through the threshold. "Time to meet our girl,” he whispered, locking the door behind him.

Stepping into the November night, you inhaled the crisp air into your lungs, embracing the transcendent phase of life on the horizon.

——

#harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #dad!harry #dad harry #harry styles au #harry styles #adore-laur

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adore-laur · 25 days

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wattpad interaction is sooooooo bad like i truly hate it over there

#750 reads on one of my latest writings and only THREE COMMENTS #BY THE SAME PERSON #what!!!!

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adore-laur · 27 days

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Harry and Sawyer are just...... *chef's kiss* UGH

thank you 😘

#anon

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adore-laur · 27 days

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BEAUTY

— harry & nadine’s meet-cute — it’s kinda all over the place but whatever 🕊️

——

SIX YEARS AGO

Grey skies loomed over Loire Valley with the promise of an April rainstorm. The slow-moving river snaked through the scenic countryside and stretched beyond what the human eye could see. Trees rustled in a favorable breeze, stirring up aromas from nearby fruit orchids. Firecrests and turtle doves chirped in the distance, signaling the start of spring.

Nadine savored it all while crossing the bridge on her Beaumont bicycle. In the front wicker basket was her canvas tote bag containing her Kodak camera protectively wrapped in a pillowcase, a serving of fresh tapioca pudding she had impulsively purchased from the local farmer's market, and an unknown flower she had found under the oak tree in her backyard. Her yellow rain poncho crinkled as she pedaled vigorously to get to her destination before the clouds burst. The scrape on her knee she had gotten from falling off her bike in the gravel driveway dully ached. Maybe the rain would wash away the dried blood.

The Domaine de Chaumont-sur-Loire opened its annual International Garden Festival that morning, which Nadine wouldn't have missed for the world. It resurfaced fond childhood memories of strolling through the enriching gardens with her family and getting lost in the creative landscapes showcased by landscapers, architects, and photographers far and wide.

Nadine planned to take modeling photos to build her portfolio. As a curvy girl with distinct ethnic features, getting her foot in the door had been challenging, but the alluring backdrop of the gardens would make her stand out. The theme was Gardens of Sensations.

In the past, it had been no easy feat to try to photograph herself with her less-than-adequate camera and awkward self-direction. However, she prepared to make these sacrifices for a prosperous career. Loire Valley only had one modeling agency, which meant she had to start somewhere small and cheap before traveling north to Paris for more lavish opportunities.

To earn a living, Nadine provided housekeeping services for surrounding chateaus. The work was rewarding, but it did not spark any passion for her. As a young girl, she had been fascinated by the aesthetic of posing in different environments and making fashion statements after seeing magazine spreads of French models strutting down the catwalk. But she had never been able to imagine herself in their shoes—literally and figuratively. Those six-inch heels seemed killer. With her thick eyebrows, pesky cellulite, and blemished skin, she had been the complete opposite of what model scouts sought.

Once Nadine became wiser over the years, she knew her worth. Her natural beauty just needed to be highlighted by the right scenery and clothing.

When she arrived at the festival, she locked her bike on a rack and slung her tote bag over her shoulder. The historical Chateau-de-Chaumont on the sprawling lawn caused her to stop and stare for a moment. It was grand and beautiful, just as she remembered. Her newfangled perspective left her wondering what inspiration she would discover.

After buying an admission ticket, she walked under the arch of the chateau to reach the garden path weaving through twenty-one hectares of artistic garden exhibits. Each display differed depending on where the landscaper originally hailed from, like Japan, Korea, Great Britain, and many other countries. Among the trees was a greenhouse kitchen where vegetables were grown and offered to visitors. Nadine remembered eating juicy little tomatoes there as a teenager—they were called 'the nipples of Venus.' The memory made her smile faintly.

She glanced around for a pretty scene to photograph herself in just as the rain began to sprinkle. Shivering, she pulled the hood of her poncho over her head. Maybe today wasn’t the best day to embark on a modeling adventure. Maybe she should have turned around and gone home.

But further in the gardens, Nadine stumbled upon a peculiar situation. An exhibition was still being set up, nestled in an opening surrounded by greenery like a secret oasis. Landscapers worked diligently to put the finishing touches on it. They removed leaves and branches from the water with pool skimmers. Their work had been delayed by the unpredictable climate in central France. It was a blessing the rain did not fall much through the canopy of trees above.

There was a rectangular vat of water with a wooden path winding through it, similar to a Candyland board. Red bamboo canes stood tall around it, hugging it with vibrant color. There was something simple yet entrancing about it, and she was drawn to the energy of tranquility that called to her.

Nadine slowly approached, trying to act invisible so as not to disturb them. She would wait until they were done before taking photos. Perhaps sitting on the path and posing near the bamboo would be adequate. Yes, that would be a fantastic shot. Unique, too, which was what she was striving for.

Her childlike wonder pushed her closer until her attention snagged on something else. Something a little more... intriguing.

A man stood waist-deep in the water, rearranging bamboo with sedulous care, his bare back turned to her. He had the most muscular, contoured back Nadine had ever seen in her life. It was sculpted in a way that captured her gaze, but she should not have been surprised. He was some sort of landscaper, which was a labor-intensive job. His tendons were surely robust. Sacré bleu, why was she thinking about his tendons?

She snapped out of her man-induced hypnosis. She had a job to get done. Her future was at stake! With that thought, she unwrapped her camera from its cocoon just as a couple of landscapers brushed past her with plastic buckets, paying no mind to her lingering presence. She must have looked like a mere tourist.

Nadine delicately cleared her throat in an attempt to catch the attention of the man with the beautiful back. He was the only one still tending to the exhibit and did not seem to hear her.

"Excusez-moi?" she said, removing her hood to appear more approachable.

The man's large hands, which were also gorgeously sculpted, halted around the lithe bamboo sticks. His face turned before his body did and— goodness gracious. Oh wow. He was pleasing. To look at, she meant. His foreign face was a masterpiece of symmetry. While he did not look French, remnants of European features still adorned his face. A well-chiseled bone structure and an elegant straight nose. Pink lips that were parted. A firm chest with a ridged midsection. Disheveled, rain-soaked hair. A pair of soulful green eyes stared intently at her.

"Bonjour," he replied, sounding perplexed.

Nadine's gaze desperately wanted to wander south again, but she remained strong. "Is this exhibit open to visitors?" she asked.

He regarded her for longer than normal—not scrutinizingly, but rather in a mystified manner. "Yes. My apologies, I was just perfecting a few details."

"I did not mean to intrude. I—" She paused and searched for the proper words. "Well, I was hoping to take pictures for my portfolio here."

"Your portfolio?" he echoed.

Nodding, Nadine nervously tucked her damp hair behind her ears. "For modeling. I am broadening my use of compelling backdrops, and this festival has plenty of them." She waved a hand, the flourishing nature around them not needing further explanation. "Anyway, this particular exhibit caught my eye. Would it be possible for me to take some pictures?"

The man glanced behind her, his brows furrowing. "Where is your photographer?"

"I... do not have one," she said shyly. "I place my camera on a flat surface and set the timer."

It was far too expensive to hire an entire crew for a photoshoot. She would have rather saved money by gaining hands-free experience herself. Besides, people in the modeling industry admired humble beginnings. She was building herself from the ground up.

"Would you like some assistance?" he asked, raindrops gently falling from his chin. Nadine detected a lilted British accent.

"Oh, I do not want to be a nuisance," she said. "I’m sure you are busy."

He walked to the edge closest to her and shook his head, a handsome smile pulling at his lips. "No, not anymore."

Thrilled, Nadine's heartbeat pounded like a stampede of animals. "All right, then."

It was an unexpected turn of events. As far as she was concerned, she had not expected to meet someone as generous as this man. She hadn't expected much of anything out of today since the weather put a damper on her mood, and her dreams often felt unobtainable.

"What's your name?"

Handing over her camera, she answered, "Nadine."

"I'm Harry," he said. "I'm a landscape architect, which might not help your situation, but I did get a passing grade in a college-level photography class. Is that good enough?"

"I don't know," she countered playfully. "I might interpret a passing grade differently from you."

He laughed, his nose scrunching. "B-minus."

She pretended to mull it over before saying, "I will accept that."

"Merci." He sat on the wooden path. "So, do you have any specific ideas in mind for the photoshoot?"

"I know I want to be a part of nature. Close-up shots are preferred. And..." Nadine looked at the exhibit, pondering. "Am I allowed to go in the water?"

"I don't see why not."

"Will I get into trouble? I couldn't stand being banned from this place."

While fidgeting with her camera, Harry said, "This is my exhibit."

This had been designed by him? It was highly impressive, and it made her feel better knowing a person with a meticulous brain and a keen eye for design was helping her. It was also attractive knowing he had constructed it with his bare hands. Did his fingers have calluses? Were there blood, sweat, and tears involved? No, do not think about him sweating!

"You're letting a stranger interfere with your creation?" she asked, willing away the heat rushing up her neck.

As Harry raised the camera to his eye and pointed it at random things, seemingly testing its functionality, he murmured, "You would be adding beauty to it."

In the middle of removing her sandals and poncho, Nadine’s breath hitched. It was quite bold of him to make such a statement. She had to tread carefully around this male enigma. She was there for business and business only.

"Hop in," Harry said. "The water is heated."

She felt vulnerable in her white camisole and brown corduroy maxi skirt. Her curves were accentuated by the spring breeze blowing the fabric. Her feet sank into the dirt. To remain true to the theme of nature and its rawness, she had opted not to wear any makeup.

Shimmying down her skirt and letting it pool on the ground, she revealed her beige underwear. Without saying a word, the mood turned intimate.

While she dipped one leg into the water, Harry's gentlemanly gaze remained fixed on her face. He was right—it was a glorious temperature, like sinking into a lukewarm bath after a long day. She was submerged up to her rib cage.

"Are you new to Loire Valley?" Nadine asked, curious about how this beautiful man showed up in her hometown.

"I live in England. I was invited to this festival to create a United Kingdom exhibit."

"Ah, oui. It must be such an honor. Do you like it here so far?"

Harry nodded. "It's gorgeous. The architecture is brilliant."

"I hope the sheer amount of chateaus we have is not overwhelming,” Nadine said, slicking her hair back with wet palms.

He chuckled and stood up. "Shall we get started?"

Nadine leaned against the edge of the vat, swaying trees and clusters of red bamboo behind her. She settled her expression into her "model face", which was basically just her looking slightly pissed off at something but in a sexy way. With her chin tilted up, she showed off her sharp jaw and neck muscles.

Harry knelt on the wood and held the camera steadily. Leaning forward, he zoomed in at a low angle. There was a look of concentration on his face, and she felt elated that he was so serious about assisting her.

The shutter clicked a few times. By moving her face just a smidge, she subtly posed. It all was natural to her once she was in the moment—it was like breathing. She loved immersing herself in working the camera to her advantage. She made it her best friend.

"Regardez-moi," Harry murmured, sending a delightful shiver down Nadine’s spine. She looked at him with her lips pursed attractively, and he snapped more photos. "Parfaite."

"You speak very good French."

Still adorably focused on his task, he hummed. "I studied architecture at Versailles and took French classes. It's a romantic language."

"I agree." She switched her pose by spreading her arms in the water and trying to smize, as invented by Tyra Banks.

To get the best angles, Harry contorted his body in semi-ridiculous ways. He then got in the water and stood near her. Nadine’s heart rate spiked. He was even more ethereal up close. There was a gentleness to his presence, and she was undeniably attracted to it.

"What do you call an angry French aunt?" Harry asked, setting up a joke.

"Oh, boy. What?"

"A crossaunt."

Nadine let an endeared giggle escape. Slowly lowering the camera, Harry stared at her in awe. His smile was stuck in place as if making her laugh stopped time.

"Fossetes," he whispered. Dimples.

A powerful blush expanded across her face and spread to her chest. Suddenly, her smile turned shy. She had never experienced such attention from a man before. The feeling was both daunting and exhilarating.

Water sluiced down Nadine's body when she stood at her full height. "Thank you for doing this," she said, her voice weak.

"It was my pleasure,” Harry replied. “You made my job easy."

She was going to burst into flames if she kept blushing. "Can I repay the favor in any way?"

His lips quirked to the side as he hummed thoughtfully. "What are your plans for next weekend?" he asked.

"I will most likely be back here again."

"As will I."

"So...” Nadine chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I will see you then?"

"Absolutely." He cleared his throat and held her gaze. "I was wondering if you would fancy doing something with me afterward. We could visit all the farmer's markets. Perhaps stroll along the river at sunset. You could show me your favorite spots and tell me why you love them."

Nadine inhaled a little gasp. If he wanted to spend an evening together, he had surely felt the connection too. It was palpable, hanging thickly in the air like a storm cloud. She could feel the electrical charge with just a single glance. It was definitely worth exploring.

"Unless you're taken,” Harry added uncertainly, combing a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I should have asked first. I just find you so pretty, and you have a lovely laugh." He paused briefly, glimpsing at her lips. "I'd love to hear more of it."

She walked toward him with her pulse going haywire. Her hands cradled his face, and she softly kissed his clean-shaven cheek. "I’m available."

"Oui?"

"Oui."

Harry's eyes crinkled when he smiled. "Splendid. I'm looking forward to it, dove."

Flutters of glee took flight in Nadine's stomach. She had been yearning for a serendipitous moment for ages. The prospect of being wanted always felt unreachable to her. No boys had ever decided she was worth a chance. Now, there was a glimmer of hope.

When Nadine arrived home later that evening, she perused through the pictures on her camera—there were at least fifty. Each one captured her in a certain light that had been unknown to her. Through the eyes of someone else, she found herself feeling desirable.

All thanks to the man with the beautiful back.

——

#harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #foxtail #harry and nadine #adore-laur

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adore-laur · 27 days

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nadine & harry tomorrow? 🕊️

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adore-laur · 29 days

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miss babes, that piece was PERFECT 😭😭😭 i am so in love with sawyer and harry fuck 😩 you’re writing is so beautiful. i literally re read them so often. you’re so talented. i can’t wait to read more of them i’d you decide to write them again!

THANK YOU 💕 i have a soft spot for harry & sawyer, so hopefully i’ll continue writing for them!!

#anon

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adore-laur · 29 days

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AHHHH IM IN LOVED WITH DEVOTION 😭😭😮‍💨 Gotta read more about Sawyer and Harry now cause I am OBSESSED 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

YES GO RELIVE THEIR BEAUTIFUL LOVE STORY

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adore-laur · 30 days

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im the one who sent in the harry and sawyer concert request and it was perfect :( they are everything to me i love how he mellows her out and getting to see a glimpse into their relationship was so so fun thank you for always writing amazing things, i always go back to your stories, they’re truly a comfort fic for me and i am so happy you’re writing a little again 🩷

the kindergarten blurb also had me blubbering like she was my child i was sending off, that family has a very special place in my heart

anyway ily thank you for your creations

YAY I’M SO HAPPY YOU LOVED IT! you’re so sweet, i sincerely appreciate you finding comfort in my writing. that’s the biggest compliment ❤️ revisiting harry and sawyer was such a joy, so thank you for your request!!

#anon

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adore-laur · 1 month

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DEVOTION

— please enjoy harry & sawyer getting freaky in miami (inspired by this ask)💃

——

MIAMI, 1993

People are packed into the arena like sardines. August humidity suffuses the air, a cacophony of chatter overlaps, and an infectious energy pulses in the room as everyone waits for Sade to hit the stage in all their sensational glory.

In the general admission area, Harry stands behind Sawyer with his arms protectively draped over her shoulders. Her footing shifts occasionally as she fiddles with his rings. He can sense her anticipation—she's been looking forward to this concert for months. When he gifted her the tickets on her birthday, she wept and kissed him with a hunger he had never experienced from her before. As much as he spoils her, she goes the extra mile to show him her appreciation.

Once the lights go out, Harry can't wait to see her vivacious eyes and dazzling smile.

Sawyer looks ravishing tonight. Her black cropped tank top has a variety of enticing little cutouts—no bra underneath, he might add—and she's wearing low-waisted denim shorts which hug her ass most temptingly. There's a reason he opted to stand behind her—two, actually. One, he doesn't want any dudes getting a sneak peek of his girl. And two, he doesn't need anyone seeing his hardness through his leather pants.

She curled her hair with natural-looking spirals and teased it with spray. Her long, wavy mane has always been a hassle to manage in the summertime, so she cut it collarbone-length. Her front bangs are tightly clipped back, and she wears gold hoop earrings. She’s truly a stunner.

Prior to leaving, Harry watched her as she got ready for the concert. They live together in a swanky Orlando penthouse, where the simple things like her clothes hanging in the closet and makeup supplies cluttering the bathroom sink make him unbelievably happy. While he gently reminded Sawyer that they needed to leave soon for the three-and-a-half-hour drive to Miami, she applied her mascara and teased him by showing her cleavage while bent over the vanity. Despite his provocative urges, he managed to resist giving in.

When Sawyer turns to look at him now, the room reduces to just her. Lucious lips stained with pomegranate-red gloss. Skin glowing with moisture. Dark eyes filled with warmth. It’s breathtaking to behold the sheer beauty of her features. Time and time again, she hypnotizes him. He's beginning to think she can cast spells on his lovesick soul.

Sawyer taps his bicep before standing on her tiptoes to reach his ear. In an instinctive move, Harry touches her hip and leans down to better hear her.

Fanning herself, she says, "It's muggy in here. I'm going to buy a water bottle and braid my hair in the bathroom."

"I'll go with you."

"But you have to save our spot," she reminds him.

Though he nearly protests, he reluctantly nods and caresses the slick skin of her bare middle back. "Fine. You have your phone?"

"In my purse. I'll be fast."

Harry kisses the spot between her eyebrows before letting her go, keeping her locked in his gaze until she disappears past the lower seating sections. In crowds, regardless of size, he doesn’t like losing her. During baseball games, it’s less worrying since she always sits in the same section in her reserved seat, but in Miami, he's extra cautious because it's an unfamiliar city. Sawyer can stand up for herself since sass and stubbornness are intertwined in her Aries DNA, but Harry remains fiercely protective of her. She's a certified sweetheart, conspicuously beautiful, and also quite gullible to a fault—if anyone attempts to take advantage of that, they'll have to answer to him.

While she's gone, Harry observes the venue. There are people from all walks of life surrounding him. The staggered seating sections flanking the floor are filling quickly, and it's reminiscent of playing at Tinker Field, where he would watch fans fill the bleachers from the dugout.

In a few weeks, the minor league season will conclude, and Harry is looking forward to taking a much-needed break from pitching and traveling. He's thankful he didn’t have a game scheduled today, which gave him and Sawyer the chance to step out for a date. It aches to know she's missed him a little more after such a long season. Due to her full-time job, she can’t always travel across America with him or attend home games, but they’re able to make it work by cherishing their time together. Next month, they plan to celebrate their second anniversary in Seville, Spain. They'll sunbathe on the scenic beaches, relish a couples massage, and take romantic strolls through the city's idyllic parks.

And, if Harry doesn't chicken out, he'll ask her to marry him.

Fondly smiling at the thought, he watches two girls strut toward him, parting the crowd like the Red Sea. They're wearing variations of the same outfit—metallic miniskirts, frilly halter tops, and chunky heels. Based on their strikingly similar features, they must be twins. Twin One holds a Canon camera, while Twin Two laughs into her hands.

Harry waves politely before shoving his hands in his pockets. The moment a fan recognizes him, he knows it. There’s a strange shift in the atmosphere when he temporarily loses his shield of privacy. It's unavoidable when fifteen thousand people are gathered in a Miami venue. It comes with the territory of being a famous Florida sports figure.

"Are you Harry Styles?"

Here we go.

Feeling abnormal but pushing past it, he says, "In the flesh. How's it going, ladies?"

"Oh my gosh, we love you," Twin One gushes. "You're hella cute. You play for the Sun Rays, right?"

"Sort of. Our team name got changed recently. We're now the Orlando Cubs."

"Oh, cool," she says distractedly. "Anyway, we want a picture with you."

With a sharp inhale, Harry nods once. “Sure, no problem."

It doesn't bother him to take pictures or sign autographs. Most people are respectful and genuinely honored to meet him. Rarely, however, do people demand things from him, like right now. Then he feels prickles of discomfort. It makes him feel as though he's being exploited. It makes him feel fictitious.

As the girls swarm around him and touch him like he's a wax figure with no boundaries, Sawyer nudges her way through the crowd, water bottle in hand. As she processes the situation, her movements slow and her shoulders drop slightly. She has her hair in two messy braids, with the shorter layers springing loose. She looks effortless and... annoyed. Yeah, Harry is all too familiar with that look. He has been on the receiving end of those slanted eyebrows, those gritted teeth, and those assessing eyes. How will this play out?

When she sees Sawyer, Twin Two strokes his arm suggestively. Thankfully, they see her as a mere stranger rather than his girlfriend. His mind flashes back to past discussions about keeping their relationship as private as possible, and he decides not to sacrifice that for such a measly moment. No chance.

"Can you take a photo of us?" It was wise of her to ask, rather than demand. Otherwise, Harry's friendly mask would have definitely slipped.

Sawyer purses her lips as she meets Harry's gaze. "Do you mind?" he asks, his expression hinting at a secret message.

By taking Twin One's camera, she recognizes his unspoken signal and cleverly leaps into her role. God, he's thankful for her. He knows it's challenging to deal with these bizarre occurrences that pop their bubble, but she handles them all so gracefully. When they get home, he’ll shower her with affection.

Sawyer raises the camera to her eye and says, "I'll take a few."

Harry straightens his posture and awkwardly places his hands on both girls' upper arms. His muscles tense uncomfortably as their hands slither around his waist and linger near his stomach. Amid three flashes, he’s suffocated by the pungent smell of perfume and spearmint gum.

“There you go,” Sawyer says, giving the camera back and forcing a smile.

They browse the pictures before staring at Harry with a sickening amount of adoration. "It was awesome meeting you," Twin Two says, biting her lip. "We'll see you around at the next Sun Rays game."

"Cubs," Sawyer mumbles around a fake cough. Only Harry catches it, and he restrains himself from grinning proudly and kissing her senselessly.

"Nice to meet you both," he says, briefly touching his heart. "Enjoy the concert, yeah?"

They nod, blush, and giggle simultaneously before walking off, staring back at him a couple of times before fading into the sea of strangers. Harry releases a breath he didn't know he was holding and concentrates on Sawyer drinking from her water bottle. He's about to apologize for the unnatural situation, but the venue goes dark, and the audience erupts with deafening cheers.

The joy he expected to see in Sawyer's eyes isn't there. Silently, she crosses her arms and faces the stage with a blank expression. Harry curses at himself—he knows it isn't his fault and that it's just how Sawyer is. She takes things to heart and lets them stew until her skeptical thoughts overflow without a lid. The fact that she didn’t witness the entire interaction has made her understandably upset. Harry regrets not saying no to the fans.

First on the setlist is "The Sweetest Taboo"—sonically sensual, intoxicatingly groovy, and a fantastic way to open their show. Everybody dances to the exquisite beat and sings along to the lyrics. The energy in the room soars to an unimaginable level. It's contagious.

Harry grips Sawyer's hand so the crowd doesn't swallow her whole. She turns and smiles softly, finally bobbing her head to the music. Slowly, she loosens up, unfurling the passionate girl he knows lives within her. The one who loves to dance.

She looks resplendent as indigo lights glide across her face. Her body begins to move—the shape of her swaying hips and the pinch of her waist are irresistible. Harry settles behind her and follows her smooth movements, grinding against her backside. The warmth of his hands rests on her ribcage, and they dance, getting lost in the ecstasy of experiencing live music.

With each song, they forget about the world outside and fall more in love with each other.

——

Harry and Sawyer leave the arena on a high after being captivated by Sade's sultry voice and entrancing stage presence for over an hour. The parking lots are already congested with people trying to beat traffic, so they decide to wait until it calms down.

As soon as they get into the car, Harry starts the engine and turns on the air conditioning before reclining the driver's seat. With exhaustion swimming through his bones, he sighs contently. It was a magical concert, but he's not looking forward to driving back to Orlando. He'll need to stop by 7/11 for an energy drink and some snacks. Fortunately, tomorrow is Sunday, so they can both sleep in and laze around the whole day.

Sawyer unbraids her hair and removes the clips, then shakes her head cutely to let her wild curls loose. She looks tired as well. They danced the night away together, not caring who saw them. He told her to climb on his back a few times so she could get a better view of the stage. During the romantic slow-tempo songs, she hugged and kissed him sweetly, and he swears he almost got down on one knee right then and there.

"I love you, baby," Harry says, watching her take off her Doc Martens. "Tonight was divine."

A smile spreads across Sawyer's face. "I love you too. Hey, listen..." She reaches over to caress his cheek and thumb the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry about my buzzkill attitude at the beginning."

Shaking his head, he kisses her palm. “You don't have to apologize. I appreciate how you handled those girls."

He hopes to forget about what happened. Honestly, as soon as the concert started, he forgot all about them. There was only one thing on his mind: Sawyer and the mesmerizing way she moved.

"I just... I got jealous," Sawyer confesses sheepishly.

Harry frowns in astonishment. Jealousy is a rare emotion for Sawyer. They’ve been dating for almost two years, and he can count on one hand the number of times she has been outwardly jealous. Since he only has eyes for her, there's no rhyme or reason for her to feel this way.

What a new and fun development, Harry thinks to himself. He loves how their relationship continues to surprise him.

Harry, however, has been caught having jealous fits many times before. Like that instance when Sawyer was invited to lunch by her so-called "cubicle neighbor." Harry is her forever lunch date, not anyone else. Even when he can't be there in person, he'll call her office fax number and keep her company while she munches her cucumber salad. Harry's jealousy grew when he discovered some guy was trying to steal that from him, so he ordered an impressive bouquet to be delivered to her desk the following day. It didn't take long for everyone to get the hint. Then there was that time when they were watching The Bodyguard, and Sawyer kept squealing girlishly over Kevin Costner's character. Okay, so he literally took a bullet for the woman he loved. Big deal! Harry smothered his jealousy by obnoxiously pretending to be Sawyer's bodyguard while exiting the movie theater and then proceeding to sing "I Have Nothing" off-key the entire way home. She just laughed, which was his goal in the first place.

"Why'd you get jealous?" Harry asks.

Sawyer's brow quirks. "Well, when I'm subjected to taking pictures of two pretty girls who are all over my boyfriend, it doesn't necessarily feel good."

"I know," he says, frustrated with himself. "I should've refused them. They kind of trapped me."

She pouts sympathetically before climbing over the console and straddling his thighs. "My sweet sunray. You're too nice."

Harry pulls her closer by hooking his fingers through her belt loops and tugging. "I'm sorry you were jealous."

"I shouldn't have been. You know why?"

"Tell me." Reaching around her, he turns up the volume of the radio to drown out the sounds of cars honking at each other. The cassette tape they listened to on the drive to Miami is still playing on loop. "Paradise" by Sade sets the mood.

"Because you're mine," Sawyer says with conviction.

Spreading his legs on the seat, he smirks. "Say that again, angel."

"You're mine. No one else's."

"Ditto," he replies, rubbing his palms along her suntanned thighs. "You've got my devotion."

His bodacious girl bites his bottom lip until it stings, then says, "Prove it."

"Good fuckin' lord," Harry murmurs against her mouth before diving in. He kisses her ravenously while fumbling to unbutton her shorts, eventually helping her shimmy out of them. Sawyer shoves her hand down his pants and grasps his bulge, stroking it purposefully. He gasps and slides his pants down halfway, revealing his tented boxers.

"Are you mine?" she asks, sitting right on his cock and sending shockwaves of sex drive down his spine. Her body heat is addictive.

"Yes," he says breathlessly, kissing along her flushed neck. "I'm your man."

"Then act like it. Show me who you belong to."

A shocked laugh escapes as he greedily grabs a handful of her ass. "Sawyer Alejandra, what has Miami done to you? Ay, Dios mío!"

She smiles seductively. "It's Sade's fault."

"Is that right?" Harry cranks the volume up even more before allusively sliding his hand under her top and cupping the swell of her breast. It fits perfectly, and when he teases her peaked nipple with his thumb, Sawyer's palm slaps against the window as she grinds against him. The glass is fogging with the A/C running, sweat drips down his back, and the song's driving bass line pulsates loudly through the speakers. It's filthy what they're doing, considering potential onlookers surround them. It's a good thing the car has tinted windows.

The thrill of their sexual escapade pulses through Harry's body. As he kisses Sawyer's heaving breasts through her top's cutouts, the pleasure becomes borderline intolerable. His lips search for any sliver of skin, and in response, she tugs his hair and whimpers softly. Her skimpy lace underwear is damp, and he switches his attention to her clit. He rubs it with his knuckle, causing Sawyer's hips to momentarily stutter before she leans into the movement and stamps sloppy kisses all over his face, her cherry-flavored lip gloss transferring to his cheeks, nose, and jaw. They're as sweet as sugar.

"Almost there," Sawyer whispers, running her hand across his broad chest. Her fingers grip the material of his bejeweled sleeveless top to keep herself balanced, and Harry would let her rip it apart if he hadn't spent several hours meticulously hot gluing rhinestones onto it.

After kissing down her stomach and blowing air onto her belly button ring, he teases two fingers past her wet entrance, and it's all she needs to unravel completely. As she orgasms, she leaves love bites on his neck and moans. Her body language is desperate, the arch of her back and the tightening of her thighs against his own helping her through her release.

"Nice and easy, baby," Harry murmurs, squeezing her waist. "Take your time."

From the gratifying pain she inflicts on the tender flesh of his neck, Harry comes in his boxers, his pelvis jerking as goosebumps rise over his skin in transient tidal waves. It feels equally divine and unholy what they just did. Tiredness kicks in as they both breathe heavily. Gradually, the condensation on the windows disappears. Sawyer's handprint is the last thing to vanish, and the sight will undeniably haunt his memory in the most marvelous way.

Harry opens the glovebox and finds the stash of napkins. After cleaning Sawyer and himself, he pulls his pants back up, shuts the radio off, and says, "I've made up my mind."

"About what?" Sawyer asks, sitting sideways on his lap so she can stretch her legs. In just her cropped top, underwear, and adorable ruffle socks, she's a masterpiece. And all his.

"I'm gonna marry you one day," he says. It's something he's known for a long time. He hopes that easing her into the topic will make him more confident about proposing next month.

Sawyer pinches his earlobe. "Don't say dreamy things like that."

"Oh, that’s bogus," he retorts. "You say heart-stopping things to me all the time without even realizing. Especially after sex."

"Not marriage-related things!"

"Does that mean you don't want to marry me?" he asks, fishing for a reaction.

When she goes quiet and stares contemplatively at him, Harry's stomach swoops. He knows her exceptionally well, which means he knows she tends to shy away from substantial conversations regarding their future when they're sprung upon her by his spontaneous nature. Perhaps it's too early to propose a lifelong commitment, but hasn't she imagined sharing a life with him before? The moment he kissed her for the first time, he fantasized about settling down, buying a house away from the city, tying the knot, and having curly-haired babies.

Eventually, Sawyer says, "I would marry you in this parking lot right now if you asked me to."

Harry feels an internal splash of relief and plays it cool by saying, "Please raise your standards."

"Are you saying you wouldn't want to marry me in a parking lot, lover boy?" She tosses her version of his question back to him with a frisky smile.

"I'd find you and marry you in every lifetime. How's that for an answer?"

She’s speechless for five full seconds before lurching forward to hug him, her heart hammering. "You're crazy. I love you so, so much."

"I adore you," Harry whispers. He reaches for the 'S' pendant hiding under his top's neckline and pulls it out. "I'm forever yours."

Sawyer kisses him repeatedly and says, "Forever."

During the journey home, she falls asleep with her head in his lap, holding his hand while he drives. His thumb absentmindedly strokes her ring finger, and he feels a surge of emotion and excitement knowing he will get to spend the years to come by her side.

Years filled with being deeply devoted to her.

——

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x oc #harry styles au #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles #adore-laur #harry and sawyer #southpaw series

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