sweetcherryharry

[sweetcherryharry]

sour — 02: traitor

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N were the "it" couple from 2013 to mid-2014, until things got extremely messy and they broke up. based on the album 'sour' by olivia rodrigo.

(masterlist)

Brown Green guilty eyes and little white lies Yeah, I played dumb but I always knew That you'd talk to her, maybe did even worse I kept quiet so I could keep you

The image of Harry's face, etched with guilt and tinged with a flicker of deceit, flashed through Y/N's mind. His green guilty eyes, as she now thought of them, held a secret, a truth he had desperately tried to conceal. But Y/N, with the intuition honed by months of shared intimacy, had sensed the shift in his gaze, the subtle change in his demeanor.

She recalled a particular evening, just weeks before their breakup, when Harry had received a text message, his phone illuminating his face with an eerie glow. He had quickly glanced at the screen, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he hastily shoved the phone back into his pocket.

"Who was that?" Y/N had asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Oh, just Niall," Harry had replied a little too quickly, his voice a touch too casual. "He's asking about band practice tomorrow."

Y/N had accepted his explanation, but a seed of doubt had been planted in her mind. She knew Harry well enough to recognize when he was being evasive, when he was hiding something. And in that moment, she had felt a tremor of unease, a premonition that something was amiss.

Now, with the clarity of hindsight, Y/N realized that the text message had likely been from Nadine. The little white lies that Harry had sprinkled throughout their conversations, the subtle omissions and evasions, all pointed towards a truth he had desperately tried to conceal.

"I played dumb, but I always knew," she whispered one night to her best friend, one of those endless days where the hours seemed to stretch for forever, and her tears seemed unlimited. When she finally said it out loud, the words were heavy with regret and a touch of self-reproach. 

She had ignored her intuition, choosing to believe Harry's words over the whispers of her own heart. She had wanted to trust him, to hold onto the illusion of their perfect love, even as it crumbled around her.

The memory of another night surfaced, this one filled with laughter and whispered secrets. Y/N and Harry had been sprawled on the floor of his living room, surrounded by takeout containers and a half-finished bottle of wine. They had been talking about everything and nothing, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they shared their hopes, dreams, and fears.

At some point, the conversation had turned to relationships, and Harry had confessed to feeling suffocated by the intensity of their public image as a couple. Afterall, they were both A-listers and in the mere eye of the public. "It's hard," he had admitted, his voice laced with frustration. "We can't even go out for a coffee without being hounded by paparazzi. It feels like we're living in a fishbowl."

Y/N had understood his feelings, but she had also felt a pang of insecurity. "Do you ever wish things were different?" she had asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry had reached for her hand, his thumb tracing circles on her skin. "Never," he had said, his eyes locking with hers. "I love you, Y/N. And I wouldn't trade our relationship for anything."

But even as he spoke those words, Y/N had detected a flicker of doubt in his eyes, a hesitation that had sent a chill down her spine. Now, she realized that even then, he had been contemplating a different path, a future that didn't include her.

"So… he'd probably talk to her while he was with me, maybe did even worse," she murmured, the words catching in her throat. 

The thought of Harry with Nadine, their bodies entwined, their laughter mingling in the air, sent a wave of nausea through her. She had tried to push the image from her mind, but it lingered like a ghost, haunting her waking moments and invading her dreams.

The realization that Harry had betrayed her trust, that he had been unfaithful, cut deeper than any of his words or actions. It shattered the foundation of their relationship, leaving her feeling lost and alone.

Sarah –her best friend– held her hand, trying to comfort her. “And why didn’t you say anything?”

"I kept quiet so I could keep him, I fooled myself." she confessed, her voice cracking with emotion. She had been so afraid of losing him, of facing the reality of their crumbling relationship, that she had chosen to ignore the signs, to bury her doubts deep within her heart.

But her silence had been in vain. In the end, she had lost him anyway, and the pain of his betrayal was magnified by the knowledge that she had allowed herself to be deceived.

And ain't it funny How you ran to her The second that we called it quits? And ain't it funny How you said you were friends? Now it sure as hell don't look like it

Another lonely night stretched before Y/N, her thoughts consumed by images of Harry with his new girlfriend. She clutched her phone, Harry's contact open on the screen.  Her thumb hovered over the keyboard as she typed, "Ain't it funny how you ran to her the second we called it quits?"

The image of Harry and Nadine, hand in hand just weeks after their breakup, was a constant reminder of his betrayal. It was as if he had been waiting in the wings, ready to claim Nadine the moment Y/N was out of the picture.

"... and ain't it funny how you said you were friends?" she continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Harry had insisted that Nadine was just a friend, a nice girl, but that was it. But the speed with which their "friendship" had blossomed into a full-blown romance spoke volumes.

Y/N's mind drifted back to a conversation she'd had with Harry a few months before their breakup. They had been discussing a mutual acquaintance who had quickly started dating someone new after ending a long-term relationship.

"I don't understand how people can move on so quickly," Y/N had remarked, shaking her head in disbelief. "It's like their previous relationship meant nothing to them."

Harry had nodded in agreement. "It's disrespectful," he had said, his voice firm. "It's like they were already emotionally invested in someone else before the breakup even happened."

Y/N's stomach churned as she remembered those words. How could Harry have been so hypocritical? How could he have condemned someone else for the very behavior he was now exhibiting?

"Now it sure as hell doesn't look like it," she muttered, anger and hurt rising within her. The photos of Harry and Nadine, plastered across magazines and websites, were a constant reminder of his betrayal. They were laughing, kissing, their bodies entwined – their happiness a cruel mockery of Y/N's pain.

The injustice of it all burned in her chest. She had given Harry her heart, her trust, her everything. And he had thrown it all away, discarding her like a used tissue, replacing her without a second thought.

"Friends," she scoffed, the word leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. Harry's claims of friendship were a joke, a thinly veiled attempt to justify his actions. He had betrayed her, plain and simple. And the fact that he was trying to downplay his relationship with Nadine only added insult to injury.

Y/N's fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to make him feel the pain he had inflicted on her. But she knew it was pointless. Harry had made his choice, and there was nothing she could do to change it.

You betrayed me And I know that you'll never feel sorry For the way I hurt, yeah You'd talk to her When we were together Loved you at your worst But that didn't matter

Y/N tossed and turned in her bed, the sheets tangled around her legs like a web of restless thoughts. Sleep was a distant luxury, replaced by the relentless replay of memories and the gnawing ache of betrayal. 

"I can’t believe he betrayed me," she whispered into the darkness, her voice cracking with unshed tears. "And I know that he’ll never feel sorry for the way I hurt. He doesn’t care"

The realization stung, sharp and piercing. Harry, with his carefree spirit and charming smile, had always seemed immune to remorse. He moved through life with an air of effortless grace, leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake. 

Y/N had seen it before, witnessed the casual way he'd dismissed past relationships, the nonchalance with which he'd shrugged off any responsibility for the pain he'd caused. And now, she was just another notch on his bedpost, another casualty of his fickle affections.

A wave of nausea washed over her as she remembered the countless times she'd excused his behavior, the endless justifications she'd concocted to explain away his flaws. "He's young," she'd tell herself. "He's still figuring things out."  Or, "He didn't mean to hurt me. He just doesn't understand the impact of his actions."

But deep down, she knew the truth. Harry wasn't clueless; he was careless. He was selfish. He had the whole world in his hands. And he would never truly grasp the depth of her pain, the way his betrayal had shattered her world.

The memories flooded back, relentless and unforgiving.  Late-night whispers, stolen glances, the lingering scent of Nadine's perfume clinging to his clothes. 

She remembered that from time to time, he’d talk to Nadine, while he was with her. Y/N choked at the thought, the knot catching in her throat. The realization that their relationship had been crumbling long before the official end, that Harry had been emotionally entangled with another while still in her arms, sent a fresh wave of agony through her.

And yet, she had loved him. Loved him through his mood swings, his insecurities, his moments of self-absorption. "Loved you at your worst," she whispered, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "But that didn't matter."

She had poured her heart and soul into their relationship, offering him unwavering support and unconditional love. She had forgiven his mistakes, overlooked his flaws, and celebrated his triumphs.  But in the end, it hadn't been enough. Her love, her loyalty, her devotion – none of it had mattered.

Y/N buried her face in her pillow, the tears finally flowing freely.  The pain was overwhelming, a suffocating weight that threatened to crush her.

It took you two weeks To go off and date her Guess you didn't cheat But you're still a traitor

The calendar on her nightstand mocked her with its red-circled date, a cruel reminder of the swiftness of Harry's betrayal. 

It took him two weeks to go off and date her. Two weeks. A mere fourteen days since their world had imploded, since the promises of forever had turned to dust. 

And in that blink of an eye, he had moved on, seamlessly transitioning from their intertwined hands to Nadine's eager embrace.

The injustice of it all clawed at her, a bitter taste in her mouth.  While she was drowning in a sea of grief, wrestling with the wreckage of their shared dreams, he was already building a new future, a future that excluded her entirely.

Guess he didn't cheat… 

she thought, a hollow victory in the face of overwhelming hurt. Technically, he hadn't physically strayed during their relationship. But the emotional infidelity, the clandestine conversations, the growing connection with Nadine while still under the guise of friendship – it all felt like a betrayal of the deepest kind.

But he’s still a traitor.

She accepted the words, a loud accusation in her mind. He had betrayed her trust, her love, her faith in their bond. He had chipped away at the foundation of their relationship, brick by agonizing brick, until it crumbled beneath the weight of his deceit.

The label stung, a brand seared onto her heart. Traitor. The word echoed in her mind, a constant reminder of his duplicity. He had played the role of a devoted boyfriend while secretly harboring feelings for another, weaving a web of lies that had ensnared them both.

God, I wish that you had thought this through Before I went and fell in love with you

A heavy sigh escaped Y/N's lips as she gazed out the window, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors. The night was a mirror of her emotions, a jumbled mix of sadness, anger, and regret.

She wished he had thought this through.

The words hung in the air, a lament for a love that had been carelessly discarded.  If only Harry had paused, had taken a moment to truly consider the consequences of his actions, to weigh the depth of their connection against the fleeting allure of something new.  If only he had recognized the treasure he held in his hands before carelessly tossing it aside.

But wishes were futile, a hollow comfort in the face of a broken heart.  The past was immutable, a tapestry woven with threads of love, laughter, and ultimately, betrayal.  And now, Y/N was left to pick up the pieces, to mend the shattered fragments of her dreams and forge a new path forward.

The road ahead would be long and arduous, filled with challenges and setbacks.  There would be days when the pain threatened to consume her, when the memories of their shared past haunted her every waking moment.  But Y/N knew, deep in her heart, that she would survive this.  She would emerge from this crucible stronger, wiser, and more resilient than ever before.

She would learn to love herself, to trust her instincts, and to never again compromise her worth for the sake of another. She would embrace her independence, celebrate her strengths, and pursue her passions with unwavering determination.

And one day, when the wounds had healed and the scars had faded, she would find a love that was true, a love that would cherish and respect her, a love that would stand the test of time.

A love that would make her forget the pain of Harry's betrayal and remind her of the boundless capacity of the human heart to heal and love again.

[sweetcherryharry]

Heyyy!! How have you been?? We miss you 🫶🏼

hii! very good, tysm!

i miss u all so much, i feel like i've been soo busy in the past few months, but i have wanted to write here again for the longest time! probably will post soon <3

[sweetcherryharry]

stuck on the different pictures louis, zayn, and harry chose for their posts…

louis’ is celebrating their bond, their friendship, the love they held for one another that got them through so many tough times. it’s saying they will never get to stand on a stage together again but let’s celebrate the good times, let’s remember the love.

zayn’s is highlighting that they were just kids at the start, they were boys thrown together into an insane, unimaginable situation and they needed each other. they found solace and comfort in each other and no one else can understand what they went through growing up together but they clung on to each other.

and harry’s… god. harry’s is just liam. liam on stage looking out on thousands of fans doing his favourite thing in the world. and that’s how harry wanted to honour him, making other people happy.

[sweetcherryharry]

sour — 01: driver's licence

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N were the "it" couple from 2013 to mid-2014, until things got extremely messy and they broke up. based on the album 'sour' by olivia rodrigo.

(masterlist)

I got my driver's license last week Just like we always talked about 'Cause you were so excited for me To finally drive up to your house

The California sun beat down on Y/N's face as she stared at the coveted plastic card in her hand, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. She had done it. She had finally gotten her driver's license.

A wave of nostalgia washed over her, the salty breeze and the rhythmic crashing of waves filling her senses. 

It was a golden afternoon at their favorite hidden cove, tucked away from the crowds and paparazzi that constantly hounded their every move. The sun shimmered on the turquoise water as they spread out a worn-out blanket, their laughter mingling with the calls of seagulls overhead.

Harry, ever the romantic, had surprised Y/N with a picnic basket filled with her favorite snacks: strawberries dipped in chocolate, freshly baked croissants, and a chilled bottle of sparkling lemonade. They had spent hours building a sandcastle, their fingers intertwined as they meticulously crafted turrets and moats, their creation a testament to their shared joy and creativity.

As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, painting the sky with vibrant hues of orange and pink, Y/N's phone buzzed with a text from her driving instructor, confirming her upcoming test. Harry, who had been tracing patterns on her arm with his fingertips, looked up with a mischievous grin.

"So, when are you going to get that license, huh?" he teased, gently nudging her with his shoulder.

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush, Styles. It's harder than it looks, you know."

Harry chuckled, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I know, I know," he said, his voice softening. "But I have faith in you, babe. You'll ace it."

He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Just imagine," he continued, his eyes sparkling with excitement, "once you get your license, you can come visit me whenever you want. Late-night drives, surprise visits... whatever you want, my door will always be open for you to arrive whenever you want."

Y/N's heart fluttered at the thought. The idea of having the freedom to drive to Harry's house, to see him whenever she wanted, filled her with a giddy anticipation. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips, the taste of salt and sunshine mingling with their shared laughter. "I can't wait," she whispered.

The memory faded, leaving Y/N with a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. The present moment crashed back in, the stark reality of their separation a stark contrast to the warmth of that perfect day. She traced the letters on her driver's license with a trembling finger, the plastic card feeling cold and impersonal in her grasp. It was a symbol of a future they had envisioned together but would now face apart.

The keys jangled in her hand as she slid into the driver's seat, the familiar scent of Harry's cologne a painful reminder of his absence. The open road that once symbolized freedom and adventure now stretched before her, a lonely path she would have to navigate alone.

But today I drove through the suburbs Cryin' 'cause you weren't around

The moonlight bathed the streets in a cool, silvery glow, a stark contrast to the warmth of the afternoon sun that had witnessed her happiness just hours ago. Y/N's tears flowed freely now, blurring the streetlights into a kaleidoscope of colors as she drove through the quiet suburbs. The leather seats of her brand new car, a gift from Harry for her recent 18th birthday, felt cold and empty beneath her.

When he handed her the keys, he had proudly said that the car was just the one for her; a reflection of her personality, and how it would be perfect for her to drive from the very first moment she got her driver's license.

He had chosen it specifically because it reminded him entirely of her, from the color to the style, making it a thoughtful and sentimental gift, special for her 18th birthday.

She had envisioned this night so differently. Instead of cruising down the Pacific Coast Highway with Harry by her side, their laughter echoing in the night air, she was alone, her heart heavy with the weight of his absence. She had dreamed of driving to his house, surprising him with her newfound freedom, but now the thought of facing him was unbearable.

They had broken up only a month and a half ago, and she swore everything was painful. 

The sting of betrayal was still fresh, the wound in her heart gaping and raw. One day, they were the "it" couple, inseparable and seemingly in love. The next, Harry suddenly broke up with her, with no reasonable explanation.

Soon after, rumors swirled around Harry and a new girl, Nadine Leopold, an up-and-coming model with striking features and an undeniable allure. Y/N tried to ignore the whispers, to trust Harry, that he’d never date someone so quickly after her.

But Y/N's worst fears were confirmed when she saw a photo of Harry and Nadine just two weeks after they broke up, their hands intertwined, their laughter echoing through a crowded club. The image was seared into her memory, a painful reminder of the love she had lost.

She couldn't help but imagine how different things could have been. If they were still together, they would be celebrating her new license, cruising down the highway with the windows down, singing along to their favorite songs. Harry would have his arm draped around her shoulders, his fingers tapping a rhythm on her thigh. They would be laughing, talking, sharing dreams and secrets, their love a warm beacon in the darkness.

But that was a fantasy, a cruel trick of her mind. The reality was that Harry was miles away, probably with her, the girl who had stolen his heart and shattered Y/N's world. The thought sent a fresh wave of pain through her, and she gripped the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles turning white.

And you're probably with that blonde girl Who always made me doubt She's so much older than me She's everything I'm insecure about Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs 'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

As Y/N pulled into the driveway of her childhood home, the tears had subsided, leaving behind a familiar hollowness. The house was dark, save for the faint glow emanating from the kitchen window, a testament to her mother's late-night baking habits. With a deep sigh, she turned off the engine, the silence amplifying the ache in her heart.

The memory of that fateful night replayed in her mind, each detail a fresh wound. The image of Nadine, with her effortless confidence and worldly charm, haunted her thoughts. At twenty, Nadine was a full two years older than Y/N, a lifetime in the eyes of an eighteen-year-old girl. She exuded a maturity and sophistication that Y/N felt she lacked, a stark contrast to the youthful innocence she still clung to. 

The comparison was a constant source of insecurity, a nagging voice in the back of her mind that whispered she wasn't good enough, that she could never measure up to the woman who had stolen Harry's heart from her.

Y/N leaned her head against the steering wheel, a single tear escaping and tracing a path down her cheek. The driver's license clutched in her hand felt like a cruel irony, a reminder of the freedom she had gained but the love she had lost. She had imagined sharing this moment with Harry, their laughter filling the car as they embarked on new adventures together. Instead, she was alone, her dreams shattered, her heart aching for a love that was now nothing more than a bittersweet memory.

He was everything to her. Her first love, her best friend, the person she had shared her hopes and dreams with. 

And now… he was nothing. Not even a part of her life. 

The thought sent a fresh wave of pain through her, a tidal wave of grief that threatened to drown her. How could she ever love someone else after experiencing the intensity and passion of her relationship with Harry? Was it even possible to find a love that could compare?

And I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

Y/N laid curled up in bed, the comforter pulled tight around her as if to ward off the chill of heartbreak that seeped into her bones. The silence of the night was broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the antique clock on her nightstand, a constant reminder of the passing time, the moments slipping away without Harry by her side.

She knew their relationship hadn't been without its flaws. They were young, passionate, and at times, volatile. There were misunderstandings, disagreements, and moments when their fiery personalities clashed. But beneath it all, there had been a love so intense, so consuming, that it had eclipsed everything else. A love that made her feel alive, invincible, like she could conquer the world with him by her side.

She knew they weren’t perfect, but she had never felt that way for no one.

A lump formed in her throat as she recalled the countless moments they had shared, the stolen kisses, the inside jokes, the whispered promises of forever.

She couldn’t imagine how he could be so okay now that she’s gone. 

Her heart ached with a mixture of anger and longing. The images of him with Nadine, their laughter and shared glances plastered across the tabloids, twisted the knife deeper. How could he move on so easily, so effortlessly, while she was still drowning in the wreckage of their love?

A melody drifted through her mind, a bittersweet reminder of a night spent on the balcony of Harry's hotel room, overlooking the twinkling lights of London. It was a song he had written for her, a simple acoustic tune titled "Just a Little Bit of Your Heart." He had played it for her under the starlit sky, his voice filled with raw emotion as he sang of his love for her, just a few months back.

Guess he didn't mean what he wrote in that song about her.

At the thought, a bitter taste filled her mouth. The lyrics, once a testament to their love, now felt like a cruel mockery, a hollow echo of a promise that had been broken.

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

It had been a week since that bittersweet day. A week since Y/N had received her driver's license, a milestone that should have been filled with joy and excitement. Instead, it had become a constant reminder of the love she had lost, the dreams that had shattered.

As she drove to her yoga class, Y/N found herself inexplicably drawn to Harry's house. Logic told her to stay away, to avoid the pain of possibly seeing him with someone else. But a yearning, a desperate hope for a glimpse of the familiar, pulled her towards the familiar tree-lined street.

She drove slowly, her eyes scanning the windows of his sprawling mansion. The lights were on, casting a warm glow that hinted at life within. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, a mix of anticipation and dread. Was he home? Was Nadine with him? The thought sent a pang of jealousy through her.

Y/N circled the block, her eyes glued to the front door, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, even just a shadow passing by a window. But the house remained silent, its occupants hidden behind the veil of privacy.

Disappointment washed over her, a familiar wave of emptiness filling the void where her love for Harry once resided. She had come seeking closure, a fleeting moment of connection, but it seemed the universe had other plans.

With a sigh, Y/N turned the car around, the headlights illuminating the path ahead.  

And all my friends are tired Of hearing how much I miss you, but I kinda feel sorry for them 'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do, yeah

The familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee and cinnamon candles filled the air as Y/N settled onto the plush sofa in Sarah's living room. Her best friend, with her warm smile and comforting presence, had been a lifeline in the weeks since the breakup. Tonight, like many others, Sarah had opened her home, offering a safe haven where Y/N could shed her tears and vent her frustrations.

"I just don't understand," Y/N lamented, her voice thick with emotion. "How can he be so okay? How can he move on so quickly, like our entire relationship meant nothing to him?"

Sarah reached out, squeezing Y/N's hand in silent support. She had heard the same questions countless times, the same litany of grievances against Harry. She knew Y/N was hurting, and she wanted nothing more than to ease her pain.

"I know," Sarah said softly. "I know it hurts. But you're strong, and you'll get through this."

Y/N sighed, leaning back against the cushions. "I know you're tired of hearing me talk about him," she admitted, a hint of guilt in her voice. "I'm sorry. I just... I feel so lost without him."

"Don't apologize," Sarah reassured her. "I'm here for you, no matter what. But I do worry about you, Y/N. You need to start focusing on yourself, on moving forward."

Y/N nodded, knowing her friend was right. But it was easier said than done. Harry had been her everything, her first love, her confidante, her partner in crime. He had seen her at her best and her worst, had shared her dreams and fears. No one else could ever understand the depth of their connection, the unique bond they had shared.

After all, they both knew what it was to be young and in the spotlight. Y/N had been an actress since she was younger, navigating the pressures of Hollywood with all its glitz and scrutiny. Harry had experienced a meteoric rise to fame with One Direction, the world watching their every move. They had understood each other's struggles, the sacrifices they had made, the loneliness that came with being constantly in the public eye.

"It's just...," Y/N's voice trailed off, searching for the right words. "It's hard to imagine anyone else understanding what we went through, what we shared."

Sarah reached out, taking Y/N's hand in hers. "I know, babe," she said softly. "But you're not alone. You have so many people who love and care about you. And even though no one can replace Harry, there will be other people who will come into your life and bring you joy."

Y/N looked at her friend, grateful for the unwavering support. She knew Sarah was right, but the pain of losing Harry was still so raw, so consuming. She had loved him with all her heart, and the thought of moving on felt like a betrayal of their love, of the memories they had shared.

"I know," Y/N whispered, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "I know you're right. But it's hard to imagine a future without him in it."

Today I drove through the suburbs And pictured I was driving home to you

The morning sun streamed through the sheer curtains of Sarah's guest room, casting a warm glow on Y/N's face. She stretched, a yawn escaping her lips as she blinked sleepily at the unfamiliar surroundings. The events of the previous night flooded back to her, the laughter, the tears, the shared confidences that had momentarily eased the ache in her heart.

As she dressed and made her way downstairs, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee beckoned her towards the kitchen. Sarah was already there, humming along to a cheerful pop song as she prepared breakfast.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Sarah greeted her with a warm smile. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better than I have in weeks," Y/N admitted, accepting the steaming mug of coffee with gratitude.

The two friends settled at the kitchen island, enjoying their breakfast in comfortable silence. But as Y/N sipped her coffee, a familiar longing crept into her heart. She couldn't help but picture herself driving home to Harry after her sleepover, his warm embrace waiting for her at the end of the journey after being the night apart from each other.

She imagined him, his hair tousled, a sleepy smile on his face as he opened the door for her

But as quickly as the fantasy had formed, it dissolved, leaving behind a bitter taste in Y/N's mouth. She blinked back tears, reminding herself that it was just a dream, a cruel trick of her mind. Harry wasn't waiting for her. He was with Nadine now, their laughter and whispered conversations filling the void that Y/N had once occupied.

And with a heavy sigh, Y/N took another sip of her coffee, the bitter brew mirroring the bittersweet reality of her life.

[sweetcherryharry]

thank you sooo much!! 😭💖

good luck, babe!

based on the song 'good luck, babe!' by chappell roan.

pairing: harry styles x reader

i can't get this song off my head and i decided to write a little something about it <3

(masterlist)

It's fine, it's cool You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth And guess I'm the fool With her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as her eyes landed on the Instagram post. An unexpected wave of nausea washed over her. An update account, one she'd accidentally stumbled upon while scrolling, had posted a candid photo of him. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot.

There he was, her can't-quite-define-it almost-boyfriend, his famous face alight with laughter. The picture had been taken of him from a distance, in his yellow 1972 Ferrari Dino, along with a woman Y/N didn't recognize, her arms outstretched through the car sunroof, a carefree laugh painted on her face. A pang of jealousy shot through Y/N's chest. She couldn't deny the sting of betrayal.

Even though Harry and her hadn’t talked in a few weeks, it was enough to send Y/N's mind spiraling. The familiar taste of bile rose in her throat. 

It was fine, it was cool, that's what they'd agreed on. They were nothing, just two people caught in a whirlwind of stolen moments and unspoken desires. But this… this felt like a violation of their unspoken agreement.

Her phone buzzed with a text from her best friend, a string of question marks followed by an image, probably a screenshot from the same post. Y/N knew what she was asking. Everyone in her life knew about Harry, about their dance of intimacy and distance that had been going on for almost a year. 

It was the juiciest kind of gossip, the kind that kept the tabloids buzzing. But Y/N had always kept it private, a secret shared only with her closest confidants.

Now, this picture felt like a violation, a public declaration that their carefully constructed facade was crumbling. Y/N's fingers trembled as she dialed Harry's number, her heart pounding in her chest. It was the middle of the night, but she couldn't wait. She needed answers, she needed reassurance, she needed… something.

"Hello?" Harry's voice was thick with sleep, a hint of confusion lacing his words. He was in Italy, from what she could tell from the post and the caption she just saw. Even though it was only late afternoon for her, it was late night for him.

"It's me," Y/N said, her voice barely a whisper.

A pause, then a soft "Y/N?" His voice, usually warm and inviting, now felt distant and guarded.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "I saw the picture." Her voice quivered slightly, betraying her composure.

Silence stretched between them, the only sound the quiet hum of the phone line. Y/N imagined Harry running a hand through his tousled hair, the gesture she knew so well, the one he made when he was trying to piece together the fragments of their complicated relationship.

"Which picture?" he asked finally, his voice guarded.

"The one with... with the girl," Y/N choked out, the words catching in her throat.

Another pause, longer this time. Then, Harry's sigh, heavy with resignation. "It's not what it looks like."

Y/N scoffed, the sound bitter and sharp. "Oh really? Because it looks a lot like you with another woman."

"We were hanging out at the beach with more friends," Harry said, his voice defensive now. "She's a friend."

"A friend with benefits?" Y/N retorted, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

"No," Harry said, his tone firm. "Just a friend."

"You can say that we are nothing," Y/N's voice cracked, the words barely audible over the growing lump in her throat, "but you know the truth." Hot tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

A heavy silence descended on the line, the unspoken truth hanging between them like a thick fog.

"Y/N," Harry started, his voice gentle, pleading. "It's not what you think."

But Y/N couldn't listen to his excuses anymore. "Then what is it, Harry?" she asked, her voice rising with each word. "What are we?"

"We're… complicated," Harry sighed, the word falling flat in the vast emptiness of the night.

"Complicated," Y/N echoed, the taste of the word bitter on her tongue. "That's your way of saying we're nothing, isn't it?"

"No," Harry protested, but his voice lacked conviction.

"It's fine, it's cool," Y/N recited the words they'd both used to mask their feelings, the words that had become a shield against vulnerability. "That's what we tell everyone. But guess I'm the fool, right?” Tears streamed down her face now, the salt stinging her skin.

A sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line.

"Don't," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper.

But Y/N was done pretending. She was done with the half-truths, the stolen moments, the endless cycle of hope and disappointment.

"This isn't working, Harry," she said, her voice firm despite the tears. "I can't do this anymore."

"Y/N, wait-"

But Y/N had already hung up, the sharp click of the disconnect echoing the finality of her decision. The silence of her bedroom pressed in on her, suffocating her with the weight of her own emotions.

I don't wanna call it off But you don't wanna call it love You only wanna be the one that I call "baby"

The bass pulsed through the crowded room, a rhythmic vibration that matched the erratic beat of Y/N's heart. She laughed, a practiced sound that did little to mask the hollow ache within.

Three weeks. 

It had been three weeks since that phone call, three weeks of deliberately ignoring his texts and calls, willing herself to move on.

Yet, on a Saturday night at a party, the sight of him across the room sent a jolt of electricity through her, reawakening emotions she'd tried so hard to suppress.

A hand brushed against her arm, a familiar touch that sent a shiver down her spine. She turned, her eyes widening as they met Harry's gaze. His hair, usually a wild mess, was slicked back, revealing the sharp angles of his face. His eyes, always a vibrant green, seemed to hold a new depth, a hint of vulnerability she hadn't seen before. 

Despite everything, seeing him again ignited a spark of longing within her. But the memory of that photo, of his carefree laugh with another woman, quickly doused the flame. She hardened her resolve. She wouldn't let him back in so easily.

"Ignoring me, love?" he asked, his voice a low murmur that sent a warmth spreading through her veins.

Y/N tilted her chin up, a defiant spark in her eyes. "Should I be paying attention, Harry?"

He leaned in closer, the scent of his cologne a familiar comfort. "You know you want to."

She took a step back, putting some distance between them. "I don't know what I want anymore," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

Harry's eyes darkened, a flicker of pain flashing across his face. "You looked pretty happy a minute ago, surrounded by all those guys."

A bitter laugh escaped Y/N's lips. "Are you jealous, Harry?"

"Maybe," he admitted, his voice raspy. "Maybe I don't like seeing what's mine being admired by everyone else."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Yours?" she scoffed. "I don't remember us ever being anything."

"Don't do this, Y/N," he pleaded, reaching out to touch her arm, but she pulled away.

"Don't do what?" she challenged, her voice rising above the music. "Don't pretend that we're something we're not? Don't pretend that you care?"

"I do care," he insisted, his voice laced with desperation. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "I don't wanna call it off. I just..." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I don't know how to do this."

Y/N met his gaze, her heart aching for him, but her resolve unwavering. "You don't wanna call it love," she said, quoting their favorite song, the words heavy with unspoken emotions. "You only wanna be the one that I call 'baby'."

Harry winced, as if her words were a physical blow. "That's not fair," he protested.

"Isn't it?" Y/N challenged, her voice laced with bitterness. "That's all you've ever been, Harry. A voice on the phone, stolen kisses and touches, a fleeting moment. But never mine."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Harry standing alone in the crowd. He watched her go, a wave of regret washing over him. He knew he had to change, to prove to her that he was more than just stolen moments and empty promises. 

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling You can say it's just the way you are Make a new excuse, another stupid reason

A week had passed since that tense encounter at the party. A week of radio silence from Harry, a week of Y/N trying to convince herself she was better off without the heartache he brought. She'd thrown herself into this girls' trip to a beach, determined to have fun, to forget about the man who couldn't give her what she needed.

Tonight, under the glow of the beachside bar's twinkling lights, she was flirting with a tall, dark-haired stranger. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he listened to her stories, his laughter a deep rumble that sent shivers down her spine. Tequila shots flowed freely, loosening her inhibitions and blurring the edges of her pain.

"You're quite the storyteller," the stranger said, his voice thick with a charming accent. "What brings a girl like you to the island?"

Y/N twirled a lock of hair around her finger, feigning nonchalance. "Just looking for a good time, a little escape from reality."

"Sounds like my kind of night," he grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Care to dance?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded, letting him lead her to the dance floor. The music pulsed around them, the beat of the drums echoing the frantic rhythm of her heart. She closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her, trying to lose herself in the moment.

But even as the stranger's hands roamed her body, even as his lips brushed against her neck, her mind drifted back to Harry. She saw his face in the crowd, his eyes filled with a longing she couldn't quite decipher. She heard his voice, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, promising a love he couldn't deliver.

"You okay?" the stranger asked, pulling her back to the present.

Y/N plastered a smile on her face, hoping to mask the turmoil within. "Just a little lost in the music," she lied.

He chuckled, pulling her closer. "Let me help you find your way."

Y/N let him lead her back to the bar, another shot of tequila quickly appearing in her hand. She downed it in one gulp, the fiery liquid burning a path down her throat. "You can kiss a hundred boys in bars," she thought to herself. "Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling."

But the feeling wouldn't go away. No matter how many drinks she consumed, no matter how many strangers she flirted with, Harry's ghost lingered in the shadows of her mind.

"You seem distracted," the stranger observed, his voice laced with concern.

Y/N shrugged, forcing another smile. "It's just the way I am," she said, echoing the lyrics of the song. "Don't worry about it."

But deep down, she knew she was lying. She wasn't just distracted, she was broken. And no amount of tequila or fleeting flirtations could fix the shattered pieces of her heart.

I'm cliché, who cares? It's a sexually explicit kind of love affair And I cry, it's not fair I just need a little lovin', I just need a little air

The tan had faded from her skin, leaving Y/N with a lingering warmth that did little to thaw the chill in her heart. Back in the monotony of her everyday life, the memory of that night at the bar - the tequila shots, the handsome stranger, the fleeting escape, the image of Harry in her head through it all - felt like a distant dream. 

But the ache for Harry remained, a constant throb beneath the surface of her carefully constructed composure.

She'd tried to distract herself, filling her days with work and her nights with friends. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face, heard his voice, felt the ghost of his touch on her skin. She told herself it was just a physical attraction, a hormonal craving for the familiar comfort of his embrace. But deep down, she knew it was more than that.

It was the middle of the night when she found herself standing outside his apartment, her hand hovering over the doorbell. She hesitated, a wave of self-loathing washing over her. You're pathetic, she thought. You're falling for his trap again.

But the memory of his eyes, filled with longing and regret, pushed her forward. She pressed the button, the shrill sound echoing in the silent hallway. The door opened a crack, revealing Harry's disheveled figure. His eyes widened in surprise, then softened with a tenderness that melted her resolve.

"Y/N?" he whispered, his voice thick with sleep and a hint of disbelief.

She didn't say a word, just stepped into his apartment, the familiar scent of sandalwood and musk wrapping around her like a comforting embrace. He closed the door behind her, his eyes searching hers for answers.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper.

A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes lighting up with a warmth that made her knees weak. "I've been thinking about you too," he admitted, his voice raspy.

Without another word, he pulled her close, his lips crashing down on hers in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. It was a familiar dance, a well-worn path of passion and unspoken desires. Y/N knew she was falling for his trap again, but at that moment, she didn't care.

She knew how cliché she was, yet she didn’t care as his hands roamed her body, igniting a fire within her. It was a sexually explicit kind of love affair.

As they tumbled onto his bed, their bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs and whispered promises, Y/N knew she was making a mistake. But the pleasure was too intense, the need too overwhelming. She cried out his name, her voice echoing the unspoken truth of their love.

In the aftermath, as she lay in his arms, a single tear slid down her cheek. "It's not fair," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. But she just needed a little love from him.

Harry kissed her forehead, his touch a silent apology. "I know," he murmured.

Y/N clung to him, knowing that this fleeting moment of happiness was just another illusion, another step in their endless cycle of heartbreak. But for now, she allowed herself to bask in the warmth of his embrace, knowing that tomorrow, she would have to face the consequences of her actions.

But for now, she allowed herself to bask in the warmth of his embrace, knowing that tomorrow, she would have to face the consequences of her actions. And knowing, deep down, that this wouldn't be the last time.

Think I'm gonna call it off Even if you call it love I just wanna love someone who calls me "baby"

For a blissful few weeks, it seemed as though they'd found a rhythm, a harmony that defied their tumultuous past. Every stolen glance, every whispered secret, every shared touch felt like a promise fulfilled. They spent their days tangled in each other's arms, their nights lost in a haze of passion and laughter. Harry's apartment became their sanctuary, a haven where they could shed the masks they wore for the world and simply be themselves.

But as the initial euphoria faded, the cracks in their foundation began to show. Harry's calls became less frequent, his texts more sporadic. The warmth in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a distant coolness that Y/N knew all too well. It was the familiar dance of intimacy and withdrawal, a pattern that had defined their relationship from the start.

One night, as they lay intertwined in his bed, the silence between them grew heavy with unspoken truths. Y/N traced the outline of Harry's chest, her fingers lingering on the tattoos that adorned his skin.

"Harry?" she whispered, her voice barely audible in the dimly lit room.

He hummed in response, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and steady.

"Do you love me?" The question hung in the air, a fragile bubble waiting to burst.

Harry's eyes flickered open, a flicker of unease passing over his face. "You know I care about you," he said, his voice evasive.

Y/N's heart sank. Care wasn't enough.  "But do you love me?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper.

He sighed, turning away from her. "Why do you always have to complicate things?"

Y/N felt a cold dread settle in the pit of her stomach. This was it. The beginning of the end, yet again. She knew this dance, this familiar pattern of closeness followed by distance. She knew that no matter how many times she fell for his charm, no matter how many times she gave him her heart, he would never be able to fully reciprocate her love.

"I think I'm going to call it off," she said, her voice surprisingly steady.

Harry's head snapped back, his eyes wide with surprise. "What?"

"Think I'm gonna call it off, for good this time." she repeated, her voice gaining strength with each word. "Even if you called it love, I just wanna love someone who calls me 'baby'. I can’t continue with this never ending cycle."

He reached out for her, his fingers brushing against her cheek. "Y/N, don't..."

But she pulled away, her resolve hardening with each passing second. "I'm done, Harry," she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I'm done with this endless cycle of hope and heartbreak. I deserve more than stolen moments and half-truths."

Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck) You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

She rose from the bed, her movements deliberate and purposeful. As she took her things, she walked towards the door. She paused, turning back to look at him one last time. “Good luck, babe.”

Then, she was gone, leaving Harry alone in the silence of his apartment, the echoes of her words ringing in his ears.

And when you think about me, all of those years ago You're standing face to face with "I told you so" You know I hate to say, "I told you so" You know I hate to say, but, I told you so

Years had passed since that fateful night, years filled with sold-out stadiums, countless faces, and fleeting romances. Harry had achieved a level of fame he had once only dreamed of, yet a void remained in his heart, a space carved out by a woman named Y/N.

The memory of her leaving, her final words echoing in the silent apartment, haunted him in the quiet moments between shows, in the lonely hours before dawn. He could still see the hurt in her eyes, the determination in her voice as she said, "Good luck, babe." It was a well-wish, a parting shot, a final goodbye. A dismissal that held a universe of pain and disappointment.

He'd tried to move on, to fill the void with other women, with meaningless flings and short-lived affairs. But none of them compared to Y/N. None of them possessed her wit, her passion, her fire. None of them challenged him, pushed him, ignited him the way she did.

One night, as he sat alone in his sprawling LA mansion, a glass of whiskey warming his hand, the memory of her came flooding back. He still remembered her perfectly; her standing in his doorway, her eyes filled with longing and regret, her lips forming the words he’ll never forget.

He remembered the taste of her tears on his skin, the way her body fit perfectly against his, the sound of her laughter echoing through his past apartment. One that he sold a few years back, since it only brought him memories of her.

He knew since then, with a sickening clarity, that he had made a mistake. He had let the love of his life slip through his fingers, blinded by his own insecurities and fear of commitment. And now, as he looked back on those lost years, he couldn't help but hear her voice echoing in his head, a haunting reminder of his own shortcomings.

Good luck, babe. 

The words repeated in his mind like a mantra, a curse he couldn't shake. She had wished him luck, but it was her who he needed. He had lost the one woman who had ever truly seen him, the one woman who had loved him unconditionally. And now, all that was left was the bitter taste of regret, the haunting realization that he had let go of something precious, something irreplaceable.

[sweetcherryharry]

i love you, i'm sorry

based on the song 'i love you, i'm sorry' by gracie abrams.

pairing: harry styles x actress!reader

i promise the next one shot i post won't be angsty!! haha i just love it.

(masterlist)

Two Augusts ago, the world was theirs. Y/N, a rising actress with a radiant smile and a captivating screen presence, had just landed her breakout role in a critically acclaimed film. Harry, the soloist singer from one of the most known boy bands worldwide, was on the cusp of global stardom. Their paths crossed at a star-studded after-party, a whirlwind of flashing cameras and intoxicating energy.

Their connection was instant, a magnetic pull that drew them together like moths to a flame. Y/N was captivated by Harry's wit, his passion for music, and the vulnerability he revealed beneath his confident exterior. Harry, in turn, was mesmerized by Y/N's intelligence, her infectious laughter, and the way her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief.

Their romance blossomed in the spotlight, a whirlwind of red carpet appearances, stolen kisses backstage, and late-night jam sessions in dimly lit recording studios.

Y/N's career soared as she took on challenging roles, her performances garnering critical acclaim and adoration from fans. Harry's solo career skyrocketed to fame, their music topping charts and filling stadiums with screaming fans.

But as their individual stars rose, the cracks in their relationship began to show. The demands of their careers pulled them in opposite directions, leaving little time for the intimacy they once cherished.

The constant scrutiny of the media added another layer of pressure, their every move dissected and analyzed under the harsh glare of the public eye.

As Harry's band embarked on a grueling world tour, the distance between them grew, a chasm widening with each missed call and unanswered text.

Y/N poured her heart into her latest film, a drama that demanded her full attention. Long hours on set and emotional scenes left her drained and craving the warmth of Harry's voice, the comfort of his touch. But his calls became sporadic, his texts filled with vague apologies and promises of making it up to her.

One sweltering August evening, after a particularly draining day on set, Y/N's phone finally buzzed with an incoming call from Harry. A wave of relief washed over her as she eagerly answered, her voice trembling with a mixture of longing and frustration.

"Harry! It's been days," she exclaimed, trying to keep the hurt from her voice. "I've barely heard from you."

"I know, love," he replied, his voice muffled as if he were speaking from a crowded space. "I'm so sorry. It's been crazy out here."

"Crazy? Or just too busy for me?" Y/N retorted, the words escaping her lips before she could stop them.

A heavy silence settled over the line. "Don't start this again, Y/N," Harry sighed. "You know how hectic touring can be."

"But you promised to call more often," she said, her voice rising with each word, like the crest of a wave before it crashes. "You promised to make time for us, even when you're on the road."

Her eyes, once filled with trust and understanding, now held a glimmer of doubt. The weight of his broken promises bore down on her shoulders, reminding her of the distance that had grown between them.

They had talked about this, hadn't they? It had not been the first time the topic had arisen.

Three times now, they had sat down together for a call, their hearts filled with hope, and he had reassured her with promises of improvement.

But like sand slipping through one's fingers, his pledges faded into emptiness after a few short weeks. The sting of betrayal pierced her heart, leaving her feeling lost and alone.

"I'm trying, okay?" Harry snapped, his patience wearing thin. "But it's not always easy. You have your work, I have mine. We can't expect to be glued to each other's side all the time."

His words stung, a harsh reminder of the growing distance between them. "Maybe you're right," Y/N said, her voice barely a whisper. "Maybe we're not meant to do this anymore."

A tense silence followed, broken only by the sound of Harry's ragged breathing. "Is that what you want, Y/N?" he finally asked, his voice laced with a hint of desperation.

Y/N closed her eyes, tears welling up. "I don't know what I want anymore," she admitted, her voice thick with emotion. "All I know is that this isn't working. It's not the way it used to be."

More silence. Then, a resigned sigh. "Maybe you're right," Harry echoed. "Maybe it's time we both moved on."

The call ended abruptly, the silence echoing in Y/N's ears. She collapsed onto her bed, tears streaming down her face. The love she'd once cherished felt like a distant memory, a fading dream.

Ever since that day, they haven’t spoken.

Two years drifted by, a silent chasm stretching between them, filled with unanswered calls, unsent texts, and a lingering ache of what could have been.

Y/N immersed herself in her career, her ambition a shield against the pain of their separation. Each successful role, each award, was a testament to her resilience, a badge of honor earned through countless hours of dedication and the shedding of silent tears.

Harry, on the other hand, had soared to fame. Sold-out stadiums, chart-topping hits, and a whirlwind of adoring fans marked his journey. Yet, amidst the deafening roar of applause, a quiet yearning gnawed at him, a longing for the warmth and laughter that had once filled his life.

One night, as Y/N mindlessly scrolled through social media, her thumb absently swiping past countless posts, a video thumbnail caught her eye. It was from a popular Pop news account, and the post was recent, just published a few seconds ago.

It was a grainy, fan-recorded clip of Harry's final show in Europe. The caption read, “Harry Styles singing a new, unreleased single about heartbreak on one of his shows on August 18th.”

A date seared into her memory, the two-year anniversary of their heartbreaking split.

Curiosity, mingled with a bittersweet pang of nostalgia, compelled her to click on the video. The familiar strains of Harry's voice filled her ears, but the song was new, raw and vulnerable, a far cry from his usual upbeat anthems. As the camera zoomed in on his face, she saw a flicker of pain in his eyes, a vulnerability she hadn't seen in years.

"This song," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "is special to me. It's for someone who I hurt deeply. Someone who I never stopped loving, even when I was too proud to admit it."

Y/N's breath hitched. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a sob. It was as if he were speaking directly to her, across continents and time zones, his words piercing through the carefully constructed walls she'd built around her heart.

Tears streamed down Y/N's face as she listened to his voice with the guitar melodies, the lyrics pouring out of Harry like a confession, a desperate plea for forgiveness.

I love you, I'm sorry.

The words echoed in her mind, each syllable a painful reminder of their love lost. The video ended, leaving Y/N breathless and overwhelmed.

A wave of emotions washed over Y/N – sorrow, longing, and a flicker of hope she hadn't dared to feel in years. It was as if the distance that had separated them had vanished, replaced by an invisible thread connecting their hearts.

The video ended, leaving Y/N breathless and overwhelmed. Lost in her thoughts, she absently refreshed her Twitter feed, her eyes widening in shock as she saw her own name trending alongside Harry's.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she scrolled through countless tweets, each one dissecting the lyrics of his new song and speculating about its inspiration. The consensus was clear: it was about her.

"Harry's new song is a love letter to Y/N," one tweet proclaimed.

"He's clearly still in love with her," another user declared.

"This is the apology we've all been waiting for!" a fan account chimed in.

The sheer volume of tweets, the overwhelming outpouring of support and speculation, left Y/N reeling. It was as if the world had become a chorus, echoing the unspoken truth that had lingered between them for two long years.

As the tweet became more popular, her phone buzzed with incoming messages from friends and colleagues, all asking the same question: "Is it about you?"

Y/N didn't know how to answer. A part of her wanted to deny it, to protect herself from the potential heartbreak that lay ahead. But another part of her, the part that had never stopped loving Harry, yearned for it to be true.

As she re-listened to the lyrics of his song, the raw emotion in his voice echoing in her ears, she couldn't deny the truth any longer. It was about her. It was always about her.

The emotions swirling within her were too powerful to ignore. With trembling fingers, Y/N typed a simple message:

“Hey.”

She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the send button. But before she could second-guess herself, she pressed send, the message disappearing into the digital abyss.

To her surprise, the three dots indicating he was typing appeared almost immediately. Her heart hammered in her chest as she waited for his response.

“Hey.”

His reply was a single word, but it held a universe of unspoken emotions.

“I listened to your new song,” she typed back, her fingers flying across the screen.

“It's for you.”

The words appeared on her screen, stark and unadorned, yet carrying the weight of two years of regret and longing.

Y/N's breath hitched. She didn't know what to say, how to respond to this unexpected confession. A million questions swirled in her mind, but the only words she could manage were:

"Can we talk?"

The reply came almost instantly:

"Please."

A surge of adrenaline coursed through Y/N's veins. She didn't know where this conversation would lead, but she knew she had to take this chance.

After two years of silence, the door to their past had been cracked open, and she had to find out if there was any hope of rekindling the flame that had once burned so brightly between them.

[sweetcherryharry]

good luck, babe!

based on the song 'good luck, babe!' by chappell roan.

pairing: harry styles x reader

i can't get this song off my head and i decided to write a little something about it <3

(masterlist)

It's fine, it's cool You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth And guess I'm the fool With her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as her eyes landed on the Instagram post. An unexpected wave of nausea washed over her. An update account, one she'd accidentally stumbled upon while scrolling, had posted a candid photo of him. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot.

There he was, her can't-quite-define-it almost-boyfriend, his famous face alight with laughter. The picture had been taken of him from a distance, in his yellow 1972 Ferrari Dino, along with a woman Y/N didn't recognize, her arms outstretched through the car sunroof, a carefree laugh painted on her face. A pang of jealousy shot through Y/N's chest. She couldn't deny the sting of betrayal.

Even though Harry and her hadn’t talked in a few weeks, it was enough to send Y/N's mind spiraling. The familiar taste of bile rose in her throat. 

It was fine, it was cool, that's what they'd agreed on. They were nothing, just two people caught in a whirlwind of stolen moments and unspoken desires. But this… this felt like a violation of their unspoken agreement.

Her phone buzzed with a text from her best friend, a string of question marks followed by an image, probably a screenshot from the same post. Y/N knew what she was asking. Everyone in her life knew about Harry, about their dance of intimacy and distance that had been going on for almost a year. 

It was the juiciest kind of gossip, the kind that kept the tabloids buzzing. But Y/N had always kept it private, a secret shared only with her closest confidants.

Now, this picture felt like a violation, a public declaration that their carefully constructed facade was crumbling. Y/N's fingers trembled as she dialed Harry's number, her heart pounding in her chest. It was the middle of the night, but she couldn't wait. She needed answers, she needed reassurance, she needed… something.

"Hello?" Harry's voice was thick with sleep, a hint of confusion lacing his words. He was in Italy, from what she could tell from the post and the caption she just saw. Even though it was only late afternoon for her, it was late night for him.

"It's me," Y/N said, her voice barely a whisper.

A pause, then a soft "Y/N?" His voice, usually warm and inviting, now felt distant and guarded.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "I saw the picture." Her voice quivered slightly, betraying her composure.

Silence stretched between them, the only sound the quiet hum of the phone line. Y/N imagined Harry running a hand through his tousled hair, the gesture she knew so well, the one he made when he was trying to piece together the fragments of their complicated relationship.

"Which picture?" he asked finally, his voice guarded.

"The one with... with the girl," Y/N choked out, the words catching in her throat.

Another pause, longer this time. Then, Harry's sigh, heavy with resignation. "It's not what it looks like."

Y/N scoffed, the sound bitter and sharp. "Oh really? Because it looks a lot like you with another woman."

"We were hanging out at the beach with more friends," Harry said, his voice defensive now. "She's a friend."

"A friend with benefits?" Y/N retorted, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

"No," Harry said, his tone firm. "Just a friend."

"You can say that we are nothing," Y/N's voice cracked, the words barely audible over the growing lump in her throat, "but you know the truth." Hot tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

A heavy silence descended on the line, the unspoken truth hanging between them like a thick fog.

"Y/N," Harry started, his voice gentle, pleading. "It's not what you think."

But Y/N couldn't listen to his excuses anymore. "Then what is it, Harry?" she asked, her voice rising with each word. "What are we?"

"We're… complicated," Harry sighed, the word falling flat in the vast emptiness of the night.

"Complicated," Y/N echoed, the taste of the word bitter on her tongue. "That's your way of saying we're nothing, isn't it?"

"No," Harry protested, but his voice lacked conviction.

"It's fine, it's cool," Y/N recited the words they'd both used to mask their feelings, the words that had become a shield against vulnerability. "That's what we tell everyone. But guess I'm the fool, right?” Tears streamed down her face now, the salt stinging her skin.

A sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line.

"Don't," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper.

But Y/N was done pretending. She was done with the half-truths, the stolen moments, the endless cycle of hope and disappointment.

"This isn't working, Harry," she said, her voice firm despite the tears. "I can't do this anymore."

"Y/N, wait-"

But Y/N had already hung up, the sharp click of the disconnect echoing the finality of her decision. The silence of her bedroom pressed in on her, suffocating her with the weight of her own emotions.

I don't wanna call it off But you don't wanna call it love You only wanna be the one that I call "baby"

The bass pulsed through the crowded room, a rhythmic vibration that matched the erratic beat of Y/N's heart. She laughed, a practiced sound that did little to mask the hollow ache within.

Three weeks. 

It had been three weeks since that phone call, three weeks of deliberately ignoring his texts and calls, willing herself to move on.

Yet, on a Saturday night at a party, the sight of him across the room sent a jolt of electricity through her, reawakening emotions she'd tried so hard to suppress.

A hand brushed against her arm, a familiar touch that sent a shiver down her spine. She turned, her eyes widening as they met Harry's gaze. His hair, usually a wild mess, was slicked back, revealing the sharp angles of his face. His eyes, always a vibrant green, seemed to hold a new depth, a hint of vulnerability she hadn't seen before. 

Despite everything, seeing him again ignited a spark of longing within her. But the memory of that photo, of his carefree laugh with another woman, quickly doused the flame. She hardened her resolve. She wouldn't let him back in so easily.

"Ignoring me, love?" he asked, his voice a low murmur that sent a warmth spreading through her veins.

Y/N tilted her chin up, a defiant spark in her eyes. "Should I be paying attention, Harry?"

He leaned in closer, the scent of his cologne a familiar comfort. "You know you want to."

She took a step back, putting some distance between them. "I don't know what I want anymore," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

Harry's eyes darkened, a flicker of pain flashing across his face. "You looked pretty happy a minute ago, surrounded by all those guys."

A bitter laugh escaped Y/N's lips. "Are you jealous, Harry?"

"Maybe," he admitted, his voice raspy. "Maybe I don't like seeing what's mine being admired by everyone else."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Yours?" she scoffed. "I don't remember us ever being anything."

"Don't do this, Y/N," he pleaded, reaching out to touch her arm, but she pulled away.

"Don't do what?" she challenged, her voice rising above the music. "Don't pretend that we're something we're not? Don't pretend that you care?"

"I do care," he insisted, his voice laced with desperation. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "I don't wanna call it off. I just..." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I don't know how to do this."

Y/N met his gaze, her heart aching for him, but her resolve unwavering. "You don't wanna call it love," she said, quoting their favorite song, the words heavy with unspoken emotions. "You only wanna be the one that I call 'baby'."

Harry winced, as if her words were a physical blow. "That's not fair," he protested.

"Isn't it?" Y/N challenged, her voice laced with bitterness. "That's all you've ever been, Harry. A voice on the phone, stolen kisses and touches, a fleeting moment. But never mine."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Harry standing alone in the crowd. He watched her go, a wave of regret washing over him. He knew he had to change, to prove to her that he was more than just stolen moments and empty promises. 

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling You can say it's just the way you are Make a new excuse, another stupid reason

A week had passed since that tense encounter at the party. A week of radio silence from Harry, a week of Y/N trying to convince herself she was better off without the heartache he brought. She'd thrown herself into this girls' trip to a beach, determined to have fun, to forget about the man who couldn't give her what she needed.

Tonight, under the glow of the beachside bar's twinkling lights, she was flirting with a tall, dark-haired stranger. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he listened to her stories, his laughter a deep rumble that sent shivers down her spine. Tequila shots flowed freely, loosening her inhibitions and blurring the edges of her pain.

"You're quite the storyteller," the stranger said, his voice thick with a charming accent. "What brings a girl like you to the island?"

Y/N twirled a lock of hair around her finger, feigning nonchalance. "Just looking for a good time, a little escape from reality."

"Sounds like my kind of night," he grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Care to dance?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded, letting him lead her to the dance floor. The music pulsed around them, the beat of the drums echoing the frantic rhythm of her heart. She closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her, trying to lose herself in the moment.

But even as the stranger's hands roamed her body, even as his lips brushed against her neck, her mind drifted back to Harry. She saw his face in the crowd, his eyes filled with a longing she couldn't quite decipher. She heard his voice, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, promising a love he couldn't deliver.

"You okay?" the stranger asked, pulling her back to the present.

Y/N plastered a smile on her face, hoping to mask the turmoil within. "Just a little lost in the music," she lied.

He chuckled, pulling her closer. "Let me help you find your way."

Y/N let him lead her back to the bar, another shot of tequila quickly appearing in her hand. She downed it in one gulp, the fiery liquid burning a path down her throat. "You can kiss a hundred boys in bars," she thought to herself. "Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling."

But the feeling wouldn't go away. No matter how many drinks she consumed, no matter how many strangers she flirted with, Harry's ghost lingered in the shadows of her mind.

"You seem distracted," the stranger observed, his voice laced with concern.

Y/N shrugged, forcing another smile. "It's just the way I am," she said, echoing the lyrics of the song. "Don't worry about it."

But deep down, she knew she was lying. She wasn't just distracted, she was broken. And no amount of tequila or fleeting flirtations could fix the shattered pieces of her heart.

I'm cliché, who cares? It's a sexually explicit kind of love affair And I cry, it's not fair I just need a little lovin', I just need a little air

The tan had faded from her skin, leaving Y/N with a lingering warmth that did little to thaw the chill in her heart. Back in the monotony of her everyday life, the memory of that night at the bar - the tequila shots, the handsome stranger, the fleeting escape, the image of Harry in her head through it all - felt like a distant dream. 

But the ache for Harry remained, a constant throb beneath the surface of her carefully constructed composure.

She'd tried to distract herself, filling her days with work and her nights with friends. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face, heard his voice, felt the ghost of his touch on her skin. She told herself it was just a physical attraction, a hormonal craving for the familiar comfort of his embrace. But deep down, she knew it was more than that.

It was the middle of the night when she found herself standing outside his apartment, her hand hovering over the doorbell. She hesitated, a wave of self-loathing washing over her. You're pathetic, she thought. You're falling for his trap again.

But the memory of his eyes, filled with longing and regret, pushed her forward. She pressed the button, the shrill sound echoing in the silent hallway. The door opened a crack, revealing Harry's disheveled figure. His eyes widened in surprise, then softened with a tenderness that melted her resolve.

"Y/N?" he whispered, his voice thick with sleep and a hint of disbelief.

She didn't say a word, just stepped into his apartment, the familiar scent of sandalwood and musk wrapping around her like a comforting embrace. He closed the door behind her, his eyes searching hers for answers.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper.

A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes lighting up with a warmth that made her knees weak. "I've been thinking about you too," he admitted, his voice raspy.

Without another word, he pulled her close, his lips crashing down on hers in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. It was a familiar dance, a well-worn path of passion and unspoken desires. Y/N knew she was falling for his trap again, but at that moment, she didn't care.

She knew how cliché she was, yet she didn’t care as his hands roamed her body, igniting a fire within her. It was a sexually explicit kind of love affair.

As they tumbled onto his bed, their bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs and whispered promises, Y/N knew she was making a mistake. But the pleasure was too intense, the need too overwhelming. She cried out his name, her voice echoing the unspoken truth of their love.

In the aftermath, as she lay in his arms, a single tear slid down her cheek. "It's not fair," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. But she just needed a little love from him.

Harry kissed her forehead, his touch a silent apology. "I know," he murmured.

Y/N clung to him, knowing that this fleeting moment of happiness was just another illusion, another step in their endless cycle of heartbreak. But for now, she allowed herself to bask in the warmth of his embrace, knowing that tomorrow, she would have to face the consequences of her actions.

But for now, she allowed herself to bask in the warmth of his embrace, knowing that tomorrow, she would have to face the consequences of her actions. And knowing, deep down, that this wouldn't be the last time.

Think I'm gonna call it off Even if you call it love I just wanna love someone who calls me "baby"

For a blissful few weeks, it seemed as though they'd found a rhythm, a harmony that defied their tumultuous past. Every stolen glance, every whispered secret, every shared touch felt like a promise fulfilled. They spent their days tangled in each other's arms, their nights lost in a haze of passion and laughter. Harry's apartment became their sanctuary, a haven where they could shed the masks they wore for the world and simply be themselves.

But as the initial euphoria faded, the cracks in their foundation began to show. Harry's calls became less frequent, his texts more sporadic. The warmth in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a distant coolness that Y/N knew all too well. It was the familiar dance of intimacy and withdrawal, a pattern that had defined their relationship from the start.

One night, as they lay intertwined in his bed, the silence between them grew heavy with unspoken truths. Y/N traced the outline of Harry's chest, her fingers lingering on the tattoos that adorned his skin.

"Harry?" she whispered, her voice barely audible in the dimly lit room.

He hummed in response, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and steady.

"Do you love me?" The question hung in the air, a fragile bubble waiting to burst.

Harry's eyes flickered open, a flicker of unease passing over his face. "You know I care about you," he said, his voice evasive.

Y/N's heart sank. Care wasn't enough.  "But do you love me?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper.

He sighed, turning away from her. "Why do you always have to complicate things?"

Y/N felt a cold dread settle in the pit of her stomach. This was it. The beginning of the end, yet again. She knew this dance, this familiar pattern of closeness followed by distance. She knew that no matter how many times she fell for his charm, no matter how many times she gave him her heart, he would never be able to fully reciprocate her love.

"I think I'm going to call it off," she said, her voice surprisingly steady.

Harry's head snapped back, his eyes wide with surprise. "What?"

"Think I'm gonna call it off, for good this time." she repeated, her voice gaining strength with each word. "Even if you called it love, I just wanna love someone who calls me 'baby'. I can’t continue with this never ending cycle."

He reached out for her, his fingers brushing against her cheek. "Y/N, don't..."

But she pulled away, her resolve hardening with each passing second. "I'm done, Harry," she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I'm done with this endless cycle of hope and heartbreak. I deserve more than stolen moments and half-truths."

Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck) You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

She rose from the bed, her movements deliberate and purposeful. As she took her things, she walked towards the door. She paused, turning back to look at him one last time. “Good luck, babe.”

Then, she was gone, leaving Harry alone in the silence of his apartment, the echoes of her words ringing in his ears.

And when you think about me, all of those years ago You're standing face to face with "I told you so" You know I hate to say, "I told you so" You know I hate to say, but, I told you so

Years had passed since that fateful night, years filled with sold-out stadiums, countless faces, and fleeting romances. Harry had achieved a level of fame he had once only dreamed of, yet a void remained in his heart, a space carved out by a woman named Y/N.

The memory of her leaving, her final words echoing in the silent apartment, haunted him in the quiet moments between shows, in the lonely hours before dawn. He could still see the hurt in her eyes, the determination in her voice as she said, "Good luck, babe." It was a well-wish, a parting shot, a final goodbye. A dismissal that held a universe of pain and disappointment.

He'd tried to move on, to fill the void with other women, with meaningless flings and short-lived affairs. But none of them compared to Y/N. None of them possessed her wit, her passion, her fire. None of them challenged him, pushed him, ignited him the way she did.

One night, as he sat alone in his sprawling LA mansion, a glass of whiskey warming his hand, the memory of her came flooding back. He still remembered her perfectly; her standing in his doorway, her eyes filled with longing and regret, her lips forming the words he’ll never forget.

He remembered the taste of her tears on his skin, the way her body fit perfectly against his, the sound of her laughter echoing through his past apartment. One that he sold a few years back, since it only brought him memories of her.

He knew since then, with a sickening clarity, that he had made a mistake. He had let the love of his life slip through his fingers, blinded by his own insecurities and fear of commitment. And now, as he looked back on those lost years, he couldn't help but hear her voice echoing in his head, a haunting reminder of his own shortcomings.

Good luck, babe. 

The words repeated in his mind like a mantra, a curse he couldn't shake. She had wished him luck, but it was her who he needed. He had lost the one woman who had ever truly seen him, the one woman who had loved him unconditionally. And now, all that was left was the bitter taste of regret, the haunting realization that he had let go of something precious, something irreplaceable.

[sweetcherryharry]

Is Begin Again finished????

not yet!! i'll post the next chapter soon 🩵

[sweetcherryharry]

omg thank you sooo much!! it means a lot to me 🩷

lunch

based on the song 'lunch' by billie eilish.

pairing: harry styles x reader

from the first moment i listened to the song i NEEDED to write something based on it. tbh it wasn't edited, so sorry if there are mistakes. hope u enjoy!

(masterlist)

I could eat that girl for lunch Yeah, she dances on my tongue Tastes like she might be the one And I could never get enough

The bustling energy of the party swirled around Harry, a kaleidoscope of laughter, music, and conversations. Yet, his gaze remained fixed on Y/N across the room. She stood amidst a circle of friends, her vibrant laughter ringing out like a melody that cut through the noise.

His eyes traced the elegant curve of her neck, the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders like a silken waterfall. She gestured animatedly as she spoke, her hands painting vivid pictures in the air.  The way her eyes sparkled with amusement, the genuine joy radiating from her every inch of skin, made his heart quicken.

"I could eat that girl for lunch," he murmured to himself, the phrase echoing a sentiment far deeper than the words implied. It wasn't a physical hunger, but a craving for the essence of her – the wit, the warmth, the intoxicating energy that drew him like a moth to a flame.

The thought of Y/N danced on his tongue, a symphony of flavors that he yearned to savor. She was sunshine and spice, a tantalizing mix of sweetness and intellect that left him wanting more. Each encounter with her, each shared laugh and stolen glance, was a morsel that only fueled his appetite.

As he watched her toss her head back in laughter, a sudden realization struck him. Tastes like she might be the one. The thought resonated within him, a profound truth that he couldn't ignore. It wasn't a fleeting infatuation or a surface-level attraction. It was a soul-deep connection, a recognition that he had stumbled upon something rare and precious.

Their friendship had blossomed over time, a tapestry woven with shared jokes, heartfelt conversations, and unspoken understanding. Yet, from the very first moment their eyes met, Harry knew there was something extraordinary about Y/N. She possessed a magnetism that pulled him in, a captivating aura that left him utterly spellbound.

A slow smile spread across his face, a warmth blooming in his chest. And I could never get enough. The words whispered through his mind, a mantra that encapsulated his desire to delve deeper, to explore every facet of Y/N's being. The thought of spending more time with her, of unraveling the layers of her heart and mind, filled him with an exhilarating sense of anticipation.

I could buy her so much stuff It's a craving, not a crush, huh "Call me when you're there" Said, "I bought you somethin' rare And I left it under 'Claire'"

Harry found himself constantly thinking of ways to make her smile, to surprise her with little gifts and tokens of affection. It wasn't just a fleeting infatuation; his feelings for Y/N had blossomed into something deeper, more profound.

One afternoon, while browsing a vintage market, he stumbled upon a delicate silver locket engraved with intricate floral patterns. It was a piece of exquisite craftsmanship, a rare find that whispered of timeless elegance. He knew instantly that it was meant for Y/N. The locket seemed to embody her essence - delicate yet strong, beautiful yet unassuming.

With a surge of excitement, he purchased the locket and carefully placed it in a velvet-lined box. He imagined Y/N's eyes lighting up as she opened it, the surprise and joy radiating from her face. The thought of her reaction filled him with a warmth that spread through his chest.

He couldn't wait to give it to her, but he wanted the moment to be special, away from prying eyes and flashing cameras. So, he decided to leave it at her favorite coffee shop, tucked under the name 'Claire'—a playful code they had developed in the early days of their friendship to protect Y/N's privacy from the ever-present media. It was a secret only they shared, a testament to their unique bond.

Dialing her number, he waited for her to answer, his heart pounding with anticipation.

"Hey, Harry!" Y/N's cheerful voice filled his ear, instantly calming his nerves. "What's up?"

"Just wanted to let you know I'm thinking of you," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of mystery, hoping to pique her curiosity. "And, oh… I might have left you a little something special at our usual spot."

"Really?" Y/N's voice rose with excitement. "What is it?"

"You'll have to find out for yourself," Harry said with a chuckle, enjoying the anticipation in her voice. "Let me know when you get there."

He could practically hear the smile in her voice as she replied, "I'm already on my way!"

As Harry hung up, he couldn't help but grin. The thought of surprising Y/N, of giving her something that reflected his deep affection for her, filled him with a warm glow. This was more than just a crush; it was a craving, one that he knew would never go away.

So now, she's comin' up the stairs So I'm pullin' up a chair And I'm puttin' up my hair

A light knock on his apartment door pulled Harry out of his reverie. A wave of anticipation washed over him as he crossed the room, his heart beating a little faster. He took a deep breath, composing himself before opening the door.

There stood Y/N, her face flushed with excitement, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You wouldn't believe what I just found at the coffee shop," she exclaimed, holding up the velvet box.

"Oh really?" Harry feigned surprise, a playful smirk on his lips. He stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter. "Come in, tell me all about it."

As Y/N walked into the apartment, Harry's eyes followed her every move, admiring the way she effortlessly filled the space with her energy. He felt a surge of warmth and affection, a longing to make this moment perfect for her.

"So," he said, pulling out a chair for her at the small dining table, "what did you find?"

Y/N eagerly opened the box, revealing the delicate silver locket. Her eyes widened with delight as she traced the intricate patterns with her fingertip. "Harry, it's beautiful," she breathed, her voice filled with awe.

"I'm glad you like it," Harry replied, his heart swelling with happiness at her reaction. He wanted nothing more than to see her smile like that, to be the reason behind her joy.

"I love it," Y/N corrected him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "It's the most thoughtful gift I've ever received."

As she reached for the locket to fasten it around her neck, Harry noticed a few strands of her hair falling loose from her ponytail. Without thinking, he gently tucked them behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her skin for a moment longer than necessary.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes locking with his. A moment of shared understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken emotions that hung in the air.

Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he realized that this was more than just friendship, more than a mere crush. It was something deeper, something undeniable. He wanted to be the one to make her smile, to cherish her, to be her safe haven in a chaotic world. And as he gazed into her eyes, he knew that he would do everything in his power to make that happen.

Baby, I think you were made for me Somebody write down the recipe Been tryin' hard not to overeat You're just so sweet

Weeks had passed since the night of the locket, and the once unspoken feelings between Harry and Y/N had evolved into a palpable tension that hung in the air whenever they were together. Their friendship remained strong, but an undercurrent of longing and desire pulsed beneath the surface.

The pair –along with their group of friends– were illuminated by the dim lights of the bar, a lively mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and the rhythmic pulse of music washing over them. Harry leaned against the bar, a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand, his gaze fixed on Y/N right next to him.  She was close, their knees occasionally brushing against each other, sending sparks of electricity through him.

"Baby, I think you were made for me," Harry finally blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. The alcohol had emboldened him, giving him the courage to voice the sentiment that had been echoing in his mind for months.

Y/N turned to face him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. The playful banter on her lips faded as she met his gaze, a flicker of recognition dancing in her eyes.

"Very funny," she retorted, her voice barely a whisper above the din of the bar, though her tone wasn't as lighthearted as her words suggested.

Harry leaned in closer, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch. "Who said anything funny? I didn't." His voice was low and husky, sending a shiver down her spine.

A moment of silence hung between them, the air thick with unspoken desires. The music seemed to fade into the background as their world narrowed to just the two of them, their bodies mere inches apart.

"Why would you say that?" Y/N finally asked, her voice barely a whisper. "That I'm made for you —I mean?"

Harry's hand found hers on the bar, his fingers intertwining with hers. He took a deep breath, the warmth of the whiskey emboldening him further. "Because it's true," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I think we both know it."

He paused, his thumb gently caressing her hand. "We fit together, Y/N," he continued, his eyes searching hers for a sign of reciprocation. "In a way that I've never experienced with anyone else."

Y/N's heart hammered in her chest. She had felt it too, the undeniable connection that sparked between them every time they were together. The way their laughter intertwined, the way their thoughts seemed to align effortlessly, the way their silences were never uncomfortable but filled with an understanding that transcended words.

"I...I don't know what to say," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "But I do understand what you mean– I also feel like you're meant for me."

A wave of relief washed over Harry, his heart swelling with happiness. He squeezed her hand, a silent reassurance that he understood her unspoken feelings. "You don't have to say anything," he whispered back, his eyes filled with love and adoration.

At that moment, words were unnecessary. Their shared gaze spoke volumes, a silent symphony of affection and desire. Harry leaned in, closing the distance between them. His lips met hers in a tentative, tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with longing, a culmination of months of unspoken desires and a shared understanding that had deepened with each stolen glance and whispered conversation.

The kiss was electric, sending shivers down their spines. It was a moment of pure bliss, a confirmation of the undeniable connection that had drawn them together from the very beginning. As they pulled apart, their eyes met again, filled with a newfound understanding and a shared secret that only they knew.

"Finally!" one of their friends cheered from across the table, breaking the spell that had momentarily enveloped them.

Harry and Y/N turned towards the sound, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment and a shared secret. A wave of laughter erupted from their drunk group of friends, a joyful celebration of the love that had finally blossomed between them.

I'll run a shower for you like you want Clothеs on the counter for you, try 'em on If I'm allowеd, I'll help you take 'em off Huh

As the night went on, the air between them grew thick with unspoken desire. Every stolen glance, every accidental touch, ignited a spark that threatened to consume them both.

"Stay with me tonight?" Harry whispered, his voice husky with desire as he leaned in closer.

Y/N's eyes met his, a silent question in their depths. A smile tugged at her lips as she nodded, her heart pounding with anticipation.  While she had been to Harry's apartment many times before, it had always been as friends, platonic. This time felt different.

With a final lingering kiss, they reluctantly rose from their seats, their hands intertwined as they made their way towards the exit. The world outside seemed hazy and distant, their focus solely on the promise of intimacy that awaited them in the quiet sanctuary of Harry's apartment.

As they stepped inside, Harry kicked the door closed behind them. He turned to Y/N, and without a word, they melted into each other's embrace. His hands found her waist, pulling her close as his lips met hers in a passionate kiss. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, her body responding to his touch with a fervor that surprised even her.

They moved as one, their kisses growing deeper and more intense as the pent-up desire between them finally found an outlet. The world narrowed down to the taste of him, the feel of his hands on her skin, the sound of their breaths mingling in the quiet apartment.

But as Harry's hands began to roam lower, Y/N gently pulled away, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of desire and hesitation. "Harry," she whispered, her voice breathless, "maybe we should slow down."

He looked into her eyes, understanding dawning on his own. He nodded, a tender smile gracing his lips. "Of course," he murmured, his thumb gently tracing the outline of her lips. "Whatever you want."

The tension in the room shifted, morphing from fiery passion to a gentle intimacy. They stood there for a moment, their foreheads resting against each other, breathing in unison. The unspoken understanding between them deepened, a silent promise of a night filled with love and tenderness, a night where they could explore each other's souls as well as their bodies.

"I'll run a shower for you like you want," he offered, his voice barely a whisper, a gesture of care and intimacy.

Y/N nodded, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of shyness and excitement. The anticipation hung in the air, thick and sweet.

Harry led her to his bathroom, turning on the shower and adjusting the water temperature to her liking. He laid out a fluffy towel and a set of his clean clothes on the counter, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Clothes on the counter for you, try 'em on," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And if I'm allowed, I'll help you take 'em off."

Y/N laughed softly, her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. "We'll see," she teased, her eyes locking with his, the air between them crackling with electricity. The night was young, and the possibilities were endless.

She's takin' pictures in the mirror Oh my God, her skin's so clear Tell her, "Bring that over here" You need a seat? I'll volunteer Now she's smilin' ear to ear She's the headlights, I'm the deer

A warm glow from the bathroom light spilled into the hallway, illuminating Y/N as she emerged, wrapped in a towel. Her damp hair curled around her shoulders, her skin luminous in the soft light.

Harry's breath caught in his throat, marveling at her natural beauty. He longed to reach out and touch her, to trace the delicate curve of her skin with his fingertips. 

But more than that, Oh, I just wanna get her off, he thought, the primal urge surging through him like a tidal wave.

Y/N caught his gaze in the mirror, a sultry smile playing on her lips. She let the towel drop, revealing her silhouette against the soft glow. "What do you think?" she purred, her voice husky with invitation.

Harry's eyes darkened with desire. "Come over here," he commanded, his voice low . He patted the edge of the bed, a silent invitation for her to join him.

Y/N walked towards him, her movements slow and deliberate, each step a tantalizing promise. She perched on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving his.

"Need a seat?" Harry offered, his voice thick with anticipation. "I'll volunteer."

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken desire. Y/N's breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I think I'd rather have you."

Harry's smile widened, a predator's gleam in his eyes. "And you shall," he murmured, his hand reaching out to caress the side of her face.

Their eyes met, and in that moment, all pretense vanished. The air crackled with electricity, their connection undeniable. Y/N was the headlights, blinding him with her beauty and allure. And Harry was the deer, caught in her irresistible pull, ready to surrender to the passion that consumed them both.

I've said it all before, but I'll say it again I'm interested in more than just bein' your friend I don't wanna break it, just want it to bend Do you know how to bend?

"I've said it all before in other words, but I'll say it again," Harry began, his voice low and husky, "I'm interested in more than just being your friend."

His eyes searched hers, a hint of vulnerability flickering beneath the desire. "I don't want to break what we have," he continued, his hand cupping her cheek. "I just want it to bend, to evolve into something more."

He paused, his gaze unwavering. "Do you know how to bend?" he asked, his voice a soft whisper.

Y/N's heart fluttered in her chest. She knew exactly what he meant. The question wasn't just about physical intimacy; it was about their relationship, their connection, their willingness to take a leap of faith together.

A soft smile bloomed on Y/N's lips, her eyes filled with a warmth that mirrored his own. "I think I do," she whispered back, her voice barely audible.

With a shared look of understanding, their lips met once again, their kiss deeper and more passionate this time. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken truths and a mutual desire to explore the uncharted territory of their relationship.

Harry's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as their bodies melted together. Their kiss was a symphony of longing and desire, a dance of lips and tongues that ignited a fire within them both.

Time seemed to slow down as they explored each other's mouths, savoring the taste of forbidden fruit. Harry's hands roamed over Y/N's back, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

Y/N tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as their kiss deepened. She felt a sense of liberation, a freedom to express the emotions she had held back for so long.

He knew it was just a hunch, but as he held her in his arms and had her taste dancing on his tongue, he knew just one thing; she is the one.

[sweetcherryharry]

lunch

based on the song 'lunch' by billie eilish.

pairing: harry styles x reader

from the first moment i listened to the song i NEEDED to write something based on it. tbh it wasn't edited, so sorry if there are mistakes. hope u enjoy!

(masterlist)

I could eat that girl for lunch Yeah, she dances on my tongue Tastes like she might be the one And I could never get enough

The bustling energy of the party swirled around Harry, a kaleidoscope of laughter, music, and conversations. Yet, his gaze remained fixed on Y/N across the room. She stood amidst a circle of friends, her vibrant laughter ringing out like a melody that cut through the noise.

His eyes traced the elegant curve of her neck, the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders like a silken waterfall. She gestured animatedly as she spoke, her hands painting vivid pictures in the air.  The way her eyes sparkled with amusement, the genuine joy radiating from her every inch of skin, made his heart quicken.

"I could eat that girl for lunch," he murmured to himself, the phrase echoing a sentiment far deeper than the words implied. It wasn't a physical hunger, but a craving for the essence of her – the wit, the warmth, the intoxicating energy that drew him like a moth to a flame.

The thought of Y/N danced on his tongue, a symphony of flavors that he yearned to savor. She was sunshine and spice, a tantalizing mix of sweetness and intellect that left him wanting more. Each encounter with her, each shared laugh and stolen glance, was a morsel that only fueled his appetite.

As he watched her toss her head back in laughter, a sudden realization struck him. Tastes like she might be the one. The thought resonated within him, a profound truth that he couldn't ignore. It wasn't a fleeting infatuation or a surface-level attraction. It was a soul-deep connection, a recognition that he had stumbled upon something rare and precious.

Their friendship had blossomed over time, a tapestry woven with shared jokes, heartfelt conversations, and unspoken understanding. Yet, from the very first moment their eyes met, Harry knew there was something extraordinary about Y/N. She possessed a magnetism that pulled him in, a captivating aura that left him utterly spellbound.

A slow smile spread across his face, a warmth blooming in his chest. And I could never get enough. The words whispered through his mind, a mantra that encapsulated his desire to delve deeper, to explore every facet of Y/N's being. The thought of spending more time with her, of unraveling the layers of her heart and mind, filled him with an exhilarating sense of anticipation.

I could buy her so much stuff It's a craving, not a crush, huh "Call me when you're there" Said, "I bought you somethin' rare And I left it under 'Claire'"

Harry found himself constantly thinking of ways to make her smile, to surprise her with little gifts and tokens of affection. It wasn't just a fleeting infatuation; his feelings for Y/N had blossomed into something deeper, more profound.

One afternoon, while browsing a vintage market, he stumbled upon a delicate silver locket engraved with intricate floral patterns. It was a piece of exquisite craftsmanship, a rare find that whispered of timeless elegance. He knew instantly that it was meant for Y/N. The locket seemed to embody her essence - delicate yet strong, beautiful yet unassuming.

With a surge of excitement, he purchased the locket and carefully placed it in a velvet-lined box. He imagined Y/N's eyes lighting up as she opened it, the surprise and joy radiating from her face. The thought of her reaction filled him with a warmth that spread through his chest.

He couldn't wait to give it to her, but he wanted the moment to be special, away from prying eyes and flashing cameras. So, he decided to leave it at her favorite coffee shop, tucked under the name 'Claire'—a playful code they had developed in the early days of their friendship to protect Y/N's privacy from the ever-present media. It was a secret only they shared, a testament to their unique bond.

Dialing her number, he waited for her to answer, his heart pounding with anticipation.

"Hey, Harry!" Y/N's cheerful voice filled his ear, instantly calming his nerves. "What's up?"

"Just wanted to let you know I'm thinking of you," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of mystery, hoping to pique her curiosity. "And, oh… I might have left you a little something special at our usual spot."

"Really?" Y/N's voice rose with excitement. "What is it?"

"You'll have to find out for yourself," Harry said with a chuckle, enjoying the anticipation in her voice. "Let me know when you get there."

He could practically hear the smile in her voice as she replied, "I'm already on my way!"

As Harry hung up, he couldn't help but grin. The thought of surprising Y/N, of giving her something that reflected his deep affection for her, filled him with a warm glow. This was more than just a crush; it was a craving, one that he knew would never go away.

So now, she's comin' up the stairs So I'm pullin' up a chair And I'm puttin' up my hair

A light knock on his apartment door pulled Harry out of his reverie. A wave of anticipation washed over him as he crossed the room, his heart beating a little faster. He took a deep breath, composing himself before opening the door.

There stood Y/N, her face flushed with excitement, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You wouldn't believe what I just found at the coffee shop," she exclaimed, holding up the velvet box.

"Oh really?" Harry feigned surprise, a playful smirk on his lips. He stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter. "Come in, tell me all about it."

As Y/N walked into the apartment, Harry's eyes followed her every move, admiring the way she effortlessly filled the space with her energy. He felt a surge of warmth and affection, a longing to make this moment perfect for her.

"So," he said, pulling out a chair for her at the small dining table, "what did you find?"

Y/N eagerly opened the box, revealing the delicate silver locket. Her eyes widened with delight as she traced the intricate patterns with her fingertip. "Harry, it's beautiful," she breathed, her voice filled with awe.

"I'm glad you like it," Harry replied, his heart swelling with happiness at her reaction. He wanted nothing more than to see her smile like that, to be the reason behind her joy.

"I love it," Y/N corrected him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "It's the most thoughtful gift I've ever received."

As she reached for the locket to fasten it around her neck, Harry noticed a few strands of her hair falling loose from her ponytail. Without thinking, he gently tucked them behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her skin for a moment longer than necessary.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes locking with his. A moment of shared understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken emotions that hung in the air.

Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he realized that this was more than just friendship, more than a mere crush. It was something deeper, something undeniable. He wanted to be the one to make her smile, to cherish her, to be her safe haven in a chaotic world. And as he gazed into her eyes, he knew that he would do everything in his power to make that happen.

Baby, I think you were made for me Somebody write down the recipe Been tryin' hard not to overeat You're just so sweet

Weeks had passed since the night of the locket, and the once unspoken feelings between Harry and Y/N had evolved into a palpable tension that hung in the air whenever they were together. Their friendship remained strong, but an undercurrent of longing and desire pulsed beneath the surface.

The pair –along with their group of friends– were illuminated by the dim lights of the bar, a lively mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and the rhythmic pulse of music washing over them. Harry leaned against the bar, a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand, his gaze fixed on Y/N right next to him.  She was close, their knees occasionally brushing against each other, sending sparks of electricity through him.

"Baby, I think you were made for me," Harry finally blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. The alcohol had emboldened him, giving him the courage to voice the sentiment that had been echoing in his mind for months.

Y/N turned to face him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. The playful banter on her lips faded as she met his gaze, a flicker of recognition dancing in her eyes.

"Very funny," she retorted, her voice barely a whisper above the din of the bar, though her tone wasn't as lighthearted as her words suggested.

Harry leaned in closer, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch. "Who said anything funny? I didn't." His voice was low and husky, sending a shiver down her spine.

A moment of silence hung between them, the air thick with unspoken desires. The music seemed to fade into the background as their world narrowed to just the two of them, their bodies mere inches apart.

"Why would you say that?" Y/N finally asked, her voice barely a whisper. "That I'm made for you —I mean?"

Harry's hand found hers on the bar, his fingers intertwining with hers. He took a deep breath, the warmth of the whiskey emboldening him further. "Because it's true," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I think we both know it."

He paused, his thumb gently caressing her hand. "We fit together, Y/N," he continued, his eyes searching hers for a sign of reciprocation. "In a way that I've never experienced with anyone else."

Y/N's heart hammered in her chest. She had felt it too, the undeniable connection that sparked between them every time they were together. The way their laughter intertwined, the way their thoughts seemed to align effortlessly, the way their silences were never uncomfortable but filled with an understanding that transcended words.

"I...I don't know what to say," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "But I do understand what you mean– I also feel like you're meant for me."

A wave of relief washed over Harry, his heart swelling with happiness. He squeezed her hand, a silent reassurance that he understood her unspoken feelings. "You don't have to say anything," he whispered back, his eyes filled with love and adoration.

At that moment, words were unnecessary. Their shared gaze spoke volumes, a silent symphony of affection and desire. Harry leaned in, closing the distance between them. His lips met hers in a tentative, tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with longing, a culmination of months of unspoken desires and a shared understanding that had deepened with each stolen glance and whispered conversation.

The kiss was electric, sending shivers down their spines. It was a moment of pure bliss, a confirmation of the undeniable connection that had drawn them together from the very beginning. As they pulled apart, their eyes met again, filled with a newfound understanding and a shared secret that only they knew.

"Finally!" one of their friends cheered from across the table, breaking the spell that had momentarily enveloped them.

Harry and Y/N turned towards the sound, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment and a shared secret. A wave of laughter erupted from their drunk group of friends, a joyful celebration of the love that had finally blossomed between them.

I'll run a shower for you like you want Clothеs on the counter for you, try 'em on If I'm allowеd, I'll help you take 'em off Huh

As the night went on, the air between them grew thick with unspoken desire. Every stolen glance, every accidental touch, ignited a spark that threatened to consume them both.

"Stay with me tonight?" Harry whispered, his voice husky with desire as he leaned in closer.

Y/N's eyes met his, a silent question in their depths. A smile tugged at her lips as she nodded, her heart pounding with anticipation.  While she had been to Harry's apartment many times before, it had always been as friends, platonic. This time felt different.

With a final lingering kiss, they reluctantly rose from their seats, their hands intertwined as they made their way towards the exit. The world outside seemed hazy and distant, their focus solely on the promise of intimacy that awaited them in the quiet sanctuary of Harry's apartment.

As they stepped inside, Harry kicked the door closed behind them. He turned to Y/N, and without a word, they melted into each other's embrace. His hands found her waist, pulling her close as his lips met hers in a passionate kiss. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, her body responding to his touch with a fervor that surprised even her.

They moved as one, their kisses growing deeper and more intense as the pent-up desire between them finally found an outlet. The world narrowed down to the taste of him, the feel of his hands on her skin, the sound of their breaths mingling in the quiet apartment.

But as Harry's hands began to roam lower, Y/N gently pulled away, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of desire and hesitation. "Harry," she whispered, her voice breathless, "maybe we should slow down."

He looked into her eyes, understanding dawning on his own. He nodded, a tender smile gracing his lips. "Of course," he murmured, his thumb gently tracing the outline of her lips. "Whatever you want."

The tension in the room shifted, morphing from fiery passion to a gentle intimacy. They stood there for a moment, their foreheads resting against each other, breathing in unison. The unspoken understanding between them deepened, a silent promise of a night filled with love and tenderness, a night where they could explore each other's souls as well as their bodies.

"I'll run a shower for you like you want," he offered, his voice barely a whisper, a gesture of care and intimacy.

Y/N nodded, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of shyness and excitement. The anticipation hung in the air, thick and sweet.

Harry led her to his bathroom, turning on the shower and adjusting the water temperature to her liking. He laid out a fluffy towel and a set of his clean clothes on the counter, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Clothes on the counter for you, try 'em on," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And if I'm allowed, I'll help you take 'em off."

Y/N laughed softly, her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. "We'll see," she teased, her eyes locking with his, the air between them crackling with electricity. The night was young, and the possibilities were endless.

She's takin' pictures in the mirror Oh my God, her skin's so clear Tell her, "Bring that over here" You need a seat? I'll volunteer Now she's smilin' ear to ear She's the headlights, I'm the deer

A warm glow from the bathroom light spilled into the hallway, illuminating Y/N as she emerged, wrapped in a towel. Her damp hair curled around her shoulders, her skin luminous in the soft light.

Harry's breath caught in his throat, marveling at her natural beauty. He longed to reach out and touch her, to trace the delicate curve of her skin with his fingertips. 

But more than that, Oh, I just wanna get her off, he thought, the primal urge surging through him like a tidal wave.

Y/N caught his gaze in the mirror, a sultry smile playing on her lips. She let the towel drop, revealing her silhouette against the soft glow. "What do you think?" she purred, her voice husky with invitation.

Harry's eyes darkened with desire. "Come over here," he commanded, his voice low . He patted the edge of the bed, a silent invitation for her to join him.

Y/N walked towards him, her movements slow and deliberate, each step a tantalizing promise. She perched on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving his.

"Need a seat?" Harry offered, his voice thick with anticipation. "I'll volunteer."

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken desire. Y/N's breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I think I'd rather have you."

Harry's smile widened, a predator's gleam in his eyes. "And you shall," he murmured, his hand reaching out to caress the side of her face.

Their eyes met, and in that moment, all pretense vanished. The air crackled with electricity, their connection undeniable. Y/N was the headlights, blinding him with her beauty and allure. And Harry was the deer, caught in her irresistible pull, ready to surrender to the passion that consumed them both.

I've said it all before, but I'll say it again I'm interested in more than just bein' your friend I don't wanna break it, just want it to bend Do you know how to bend?

"I've said it all before in other words, but I'll say it again," Harry began, his voice low and husky, "I'm interested in more than just being your friend."

His eyes searched hers, a hint of vulnerability flickering beneath the desire. "I don't want to break what we have," he continued, his hand cupping her cheek. "I just want it to bend, to evolve into something more."

He paused, his gaze unwavering. "Do you know how to bend?" he asked, his voice a soft whisper.

Y/N's heart fluttered in her chest. She knew exactly what he meant. The question wasn't just about physical intimacy; it was about their relationship, their connection, their willingness to take a leap of faith together.

A soft smile bloomed on Y/N's lips, her eyes filled with a warmth that mirrored his own. "I think I do," she whispered back, her voice barely audible.

With a shared look of understanding, their lips met once again, their kiss deeper and more passionate this time. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken truths and a mutual desire to explore the uncharted territory of their relationship.

Harry's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as their bodies melted together. Their kiss was a symphony of longing and desire, a dance of lips and tongues that ignited a fire within them both.

Time seemed to slow down as they explored each other's mouths, savoring the taste of forbidden fruit. Harry's hands roamed over Y/N's back, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

Y/N tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as their kiss deepened. She felt a sense of liberation, a freedom to express the emotions she had held back for so long.

He knew it was just a hunch, but as he held her in his arms and had her taste dancing on his tongue, he knew just one thing; she is the one.

[sweetcherryharry]

Begin Again — 06

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N had a secret relationship for almost two years, until they broke up. A year later, she shows up at one of his Love On Tour shows.

(masterlist)

Y/N swallowed hard, trying to get her voice to work.  "Harry," she managed to whisper, the word a mix of apprehension and a strange sense of relief.

Silence stretched across the line, broken only by the faint hum of his breathing. The tension that had simmered beneath the surface of their reunion was now a palpable force, thickening the air with unspoken words.

"Y/N," his voice finally came, hesitant yet laced with a surprising tenderness. "Are you alright?"

The question caught her off guard. Despite everything, his first concern was for her.  A wave of conflicting emotions washed over her – guilt, gratitude, and a lingering ache in her chest that spoke of the bond they'd once shared. "I… I will be," she finally managed, her voice trembling slightly.

"Have you…seen it?"  His question hung unfinished, the unspoken words echoing in her mind – Have you seen what's happening online?

A bitter laugh threatened to escape her lips. "Just a little bit," she admitted, the understatement of the year. Natalie and Maia had given her the broad strokes. It was enough to know that her carefully crafted world was about to implode.

"I'm so sorry." His voice was thick with sincerity, laced with an unspoken understanding of the maelstrom she was about to face.

Y/N closed her eyes, briefly overwhelmed. His apology, while genuine, did little to change the situation. "Don't be," she said softly, pushing down a bitter laugh.  "It's ironic, isn't it? All those years of hiding, and now…"  Her voice trailed off, unable to articulate the absurdity of it all.

"It's a mess," Harry finished for her, his voice heavy.  He seemed to understand the unspoken weight of her words, the sting of a love they'd protected so fiercely, now suddenly exposed in the harshest possible light.

A wave of memories washed over Y/N – the secrecy, the stolen moments, the fear of discovery that hung over them like a constant shadow. And then, the pain of their breakup still lingered, a dull ache that this unexpected reunion had reawakened.

"We were so careful," she whispered, the words filled with a mix of regret and resignation.

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his voice. "I know," he said gently. "Believe me, I know." There was a hint of self-recrimination in his tone, the weight of the past they shared settling between them.

The memory of his invitation to Harryween suddenly resurfaced, a flicker of warmth amidst the chaos.  He had invited her back into his world, a tempting glimpse of what could be. But now… she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Harry," her voice was hesitant, "I don't think I can go to Harryween." The words were like a heavy weight settling on her chest.

Last night, after their bittersweet moment in the backstage bathroom, they had went out to the Love Band’s living room and conversed there happily for a while —by themselves and with other people—, and during those moments, he had invited her and her friends to the next show, which was Harryween.

She had agreed. The invitation was friendly, and she knew how amazing Harryween was. Besides, she knew her friends would love to go (Y/N too, even though she would keep it a secret).

But now… with all of this going on, she wasn’t so sure it was the best idea to attend. All eyes would be looking for the mystery girl in the crowd.

"I figured you might say that," he replied, his tone surprisingly understanding.  "It's probably for the best."

Despite his words, a pang of disappointment shot through Y/N. Part of her had hoped… but reason won out. It was simply too risky.

"But Y/N," Harry continued, a hesitant note entering his voice, "What if... what if there was a way?"

She sat up straighter, a flicker of curiosity battling her apprehension. "A way? What do you mean?"

"Think about it…" he said, "it's Harryween! Everyone will be in costume. You could disguise yourself, Maia and Natalie too. It will be packed with people all dressed up." A pause hung in the air as tension and possibility crackled between them.

Y/N's mind raced. The idea was both absurd and strangely tempting. Could she pull it off? Could things get back to normal, even just a little bit, in the middle of all this crazy mess?

"I don't know, Harry," she said finally, her voice laced with apprehension and a touch of yearning. "It sounds crazy."

"Maybe," he shot back, a hint of playfulness returning. "But sometimes, crazy's just what we need."

A wry smile tugged at the corner of Y/N's lips. There was a time when they'd thrived on a little bit of crazy, pushing boundaries and creating their own secret world. But this… this was on a whole different level. Public scrutiny, paparazzi, and the potential fallout felt like a hurricane waiting to erupt.

"Even with a disguise," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "there's no guarantee they won't recognize me. The media… they're relentless."

"We can take precautions," Harry assured her, his voice firm yet laced with a newfound determination. He was determined, he wanted to see her again.

The memory of their shared past, the stolen moments before and after his shows and clandestine meetings, sent a shiver down her spine. A tiny part of her, a part she'd buried deep down, yearned for a taste of that carefree intimacy again.

"Just… think about it, Y/N," he continued, his voice softening. "No pressure. But if you do decide… I'll make sure everything is arranged. Secure seats, a top-notch disguise… the works."

The silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of the decision before her.  A part of her craved a sense of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with Harry outside the whirlwind of chaos. But the other part…the cautious, pragmatic part…knew the potential risks were immense.

"I… I'll let you know," she finally managed, her voice a mixture of apprehension and a strange sense of anticipation.

"Alright," Harry replied, a hint of disappointment in his tone. "And Y/N…"  he hesitated for a moment, "stay off your phone for now. Don't look at social media. Things are going to get…intense. My PR team will be in contact with me soon, and we'll figure out our next move together, okay?."

After she agreed, the call ended. 

Y/N sat with her friends, staring at the phone, her heart hammering in her chest. 

Harryween. Disguises. Stolen moments. It all felt like a dangerous, thrilling game. And deep down, a part of her was already considering the unimaginable– defying expectations and stepping back into Harry's world, if only for one last night.

Natalie and Maia exchanged worried glances, sensing the inner turmoil their friend was facing. The silence in the room hung heavy, broken only by the soft buzzing of Y/N's phone, each new notification a potential explosion of chaos.

"Well?" Maia finally broke the silence, her voice edged with concern. "What did Harry say?"

Natalie reached out, gently squeezing Y/N's hand. "We heard some of it, but… what's the plan?"

Y/N took a deep breath, the weight of the decision pressing down on her.  Should she tell them about Harry's crazy proposal? A part of her yearned to share the burden, while another feared their reaction.

"He…" she began hesitantly, then trailed off. How could she possibly explain the allure of stepping back into the madness, even for one night?

"He wants me to go to Harryween," she blurted out, unable to contain the secret any longer. “Want us to go to Harryween, tomorrow night.”

Natalie and Maia's eyes widened in surprise.

"Go? As in, be there?" Natalie asked, her voice incredulous. "Isn't that like…walking into the lion's den?"

Maia frowned. "But how? Won't everyone recognize you? It's the most exclusive concert of the whole tour!"

Y/N explained Harry's proposal in a hushed tone. "He says he can get us good seats… somewhere discreet. And disguises. He thinks with the right costume, no one would suspect a thing."

A flicker of excitement sparked in Natalie's eyes. "Honestly, that sounds kinda thrilling. Like a spy mission."

Maia, always the more practical one, shook her head. "It sounds like a recipe for disaster. Y/N, the press, Harry's fans… they'll be relentless. If they figure it out…"

Y/N knew her friend was right. It was a massive risk, a gamble with potentially devastating consequences.  But as she thought of Harry, and the possibility of a single night of stolen normalcy, her heart beat a little faster.

She took a deep breath, trying to process their reactions. Natalie's thrill-seeking nature mirrored a small part of her own, while Maia's caution resonated with her rational side.

"I know, I know," she sighed, running a hand through her hair.  "It sounds insane. But… there's this part of me," she paused, searching for the right words, "that yearns for it. Just one more night, one more concert. It also feels a bit bittersweet, since I attended the last Harryween…"  Her voice trailed off, a pang of nostalgia twisting  in her heart.

Natalie leaned in, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "Y/N, we get it. This whole situation is crazy. But you have to do what feels right for you."

Maia nodded in agreement. "We're here for you, no matter what.  But please, think about this carefully. There may be fallout you haven't even considered."

Y/N's gaze fell on her phone again, the thousands of silent notifications piling up like a countdown to chaos.  "I need to think," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.  "And… well, I'm waiting for Harry's team to propose some strategies. We'll have to see what they say."

The mention of last year's Harryween hung in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the life she'd left behind. It had been a magical night, filled with the thrill of Harry's performance and a shared secret only they knew. 

Could she recapture that magic, even in the midst of this storm?

—

Time seemed to both crawl and race by as Y/N sat alone in her apartment. The warmth of the recent shower did little to combat the chill that had settled in her bones. Strategies and concerns echoed in her head, endless 'what-ifs' twisting her stomach into knots.  

She'd ignored her social media all day, the constant stream of notifications a terrifying countdown she wasn't ready to face. Instead, she'd buried herself in meaningless tasks, tidying the apartment, anything to keep her hands busy and her mind from spiraling. Her phone buzzed incessantly, messages from worried acquaintances and distant friends piling up, demanding confirmation – was she the mystery girl? She couldn't even bring herself to read them. 

Eventually, the isolation was unbearable. Seeking any distraction, she messaged Natalie and Maia, assuring them she was okay, or as okay as someone could be in this situation.  The simple act of reaching out brought a sliver of normalcy back into her chaotic world. 

A flicker of her phone screen broke the renewed silence. A text from Harry.

She couldn’t help but feel her heart racing seeing the new notification on her phone.

Hi sunflower xx

Can we meet? I just had the PR meeting, and I’d like to talk about the options with you, in person.

A surge of adrenaline washed away the exhaustion. She didn't hesitate.

Yeah, sure, my place?

Not even a second after, there was a reply from him.

It’d be perfect :)

Can you send the address? xx

Since they had met and started dating while she was studying abroad in London, and then they moved together back then, she never had a place of her own in Los Angeles when they were dating. So, naturally, he didn’t know where she lived anymore.

She quickly shared her address, and decided to brew tea while she waited for him to arrive.

Within thirty minutes, there was a knock at her door. Y/N took a deep, steadying breath before opening it, revealing Harry on the other side. He looked slightly disheveled, the usual polish of his superstar persona replaced by a hint of vulnerability that tugged at her heart.

"Hey," he said, his voice low, a soft smile playing on his lips that seemed imbued with genuine warmth and a touch of nervousness.  

“Hey,” she replied, stepping to the side of the open door, “Please, come in.”

As he walked into the open space of the shared living room and kitchen, his green eyes scanned the place. “It’s a lovely place,” he remarked, his compliment genuine.

A strange sense of displacement washed over her as she watched him cross the threshold. This apartment –this space she'd meticulously chosen and decorated– represented a chapter of her life he had never been a part of. Seeing him here felt disorienting, like a dream overlapping with reality.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him, closing the door behind them. An echo of shared domesticity hung in the air, a reminder of a past they couldn't speak of. "Would you like some tea?" she asked, more out of habit than genuine hospitality.

Harry shook his head slightly, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "I'm alright, thanks."

A tense silence stretched between them as they both took a seat on the couch. The apartment, once her sanctuary after their break up, now felt charged with emotion. Everything felt too much – the weight of the online storm brewing outside, the secrets they carried, and now the disorienting intimacy of being alone together for the first time in almost a year.

"So," Harry began, running a hand through his hair – a nervous gesture she remembered all too well.  "How are you?" His question was gentle, his eyes reflecting a genuine concern that cut through the awkwardness.

Y/N looked away, her gaze settling on a framed photo on the bookshelf – a memento from a solo trip, a testament to the life she'd built for herself after him.  "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.  "Overwhelmed, I guess. Confused. This whole thing… it's surreal."

"I know," he said softly. "I'm sorry. For all of this." His apology hung in the air, heavy and sincere.

"It's okay," she forced a smile. "Don't worry about it. We always knew… there was a chance this could happen." Her voice trailed off, the unspoken words lingering between them. Fame had always been a looming shadow in their relationship, a constant threat to the fragile normalcy they'd tried to build.

"So," Harry began again, a hint of resignation in his voice, "about the PR meeting…"

And just like that, the fragile bubble of intimacy burst, and the focus shifted back to the harsh realities of their situation.

"It's not pretty," he admitted, a sigh escaping his lips.  "They're suggesting… well, the classic options. Deny everything. Issue a statement about respecting privacy. Simply ignore everything and keep quiet. Or..." he hesitated, meeting her gaze, "they suggested we frame it as being long-term friends, and that we would hang out from time to time, explaining me being in your picture.”

The options swirled in Y/N's head. Complete denial felt false and cowardly. A generic statement about privacy reeked of celebrity evasion. Ignoring everything was simply not an option with the way social media was imploding. But the last suggestion, framing their history as a friendship… it wasn't a lie, not entirely. There were a few months when friendship was the cornerstone of their relationship, before love had blossomed.

"That's… not the worst idea," she admitted cautiously. It would mean bending the truth, selectively obscuring the past, but it felt less damaging than an outright denial.

Harry seemed to relax slightly, a flicker of relief in his eyes. "It's the least harmful way forward, I think. Buys us some time while giving people a plausible explanation. And..." he paused, a hint of vulnerability in his voice, "I wouldn't hate having you back in my life, even as just a friend."

His words echoed in the silence. Y/N felt a pang of longing, a flicker of the old connection reigniting. Being his friend –a safe, public version of what they once had– was a tempting proposition. And yet…

"Yeah," she replied, the word barely a whisper. A wave of doubt washed over her. Could she do this? Could she see him, interact with him, knowing the depth of their shared history, and pretend it was only friendship?

A memory resurfaced: the stolen moments, the shared laughter, the way his touch had once felt like coming home. Could she truly bury all that and relegate him to the role of a casual acquaintance from her past?

Harry seemed to pick up on her inner turmoil. "I know this is a lot," he said softly. "And we don't have to decide anything right now. But…" a hint of hope crept into his voice, "would you be open to the idea?  Just… hanging out, as friends, and see how it feels?"

A sliver of guilt pricked her conscience. Saying 'friend' felt like a betrayal of their past, but it was also a lifeline in this storm. "Okay," she said, her voice stronger this time. "We could…try."

Unbeknownst to her, Harry felt a bittersweet relief wash over him. "Friends" – the word sliced through him, a constant reminder of the love he still harbored immensely for her. But he could see the hesitation in her eyes, the internal struggle. It was for the best –her best– he told himself firmly. 

For her safety, for his career, this was the path they had to tread, even if it meant walking over shards of his own broken heart.

The memory of their breakup played on a loop in his mind. The ache hadn't dulled over time; it had merely transformed. It was the price of his ambition, his relentless climb to stardom, and the cruel reality that success had made their love impossible to sustain. 

And yet, watching her swept into the spotlight, her name and face twisted in the cruel narratives of the online mob, ignited a fierce protectiveness within him.

He couldn't change the past, even if he wanted to with his whole being. She was his home, his whole life. She was the love of his life, and he had lost her almost a year ago.

If pretending friendship was the shield to protect her, he would wear the mask with unwavering conviction. It would hurt, every smile, every innocent touch, every conversation constrained by the invisible boundary they now had to uphold. 

But it was a pain he could endure, a pain he would gladly choose if it meant offering her a semblance of safety in the eye of this relentless storm.

"Look," Harry interrupted her internal struggle, determination in his voice, "I have to make a quick call. My team... they need to get the word out. An exclusive, a carefully worded leak… something to back our ‘long-time friends’ story."

A touch of bitterness edged his voice, but Y/N understood. It was the game they had to play, the reality of his world she could never truly escape.

Harry retreated to the kitchen of her apartment, his voice a low murmur as he spoke to his team.  Y/N sat alone in the living room, the weight of their decision pressing down on her. When he returned, his expression was unreadable, a mix of resignation and a strange hint of hope.

"All set," he said, a forced lightness in his voice. "The wheels are in motion. Tomorrow…well, tomorrow things will be different. Hopefully."

A quiet "thank you" slipped from Y/N's lips, laced with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. The weight of their decision settled on her like a heavy cloak.

Harry's gaze landed on the coffee table, where a beautiful, carefully crocheted bouquet of pink, white, and yellow flowers sat nestled atop fashion magazines. A flicker of recognition softened his eyes. "Hey," he said, his voice husky, "isn't that…"

Y/N's head snapped up, a wave of warmth and nostalgia washing over her.  "The flowers? Yeah," she admitted, a hesitant smile tugging at her lips.

"From that little market in London?" A smile bloomed on Harry's face as the memory came rushing back. "We spent ages arguing about which colors you should get."

Y/N's smile widened. "I can't believe you remember! I thought for sure you'd force me to choose the blue and purple ones."

"I almost did," Harry chuckled, his voice filled with a warmth that seemed to contradict the carefully constructed distance between them. "But pink and yellow were always your colors."

Laughter bubbled up from Y/N, genuine and unexpected. 

The dam holding back memories seemed to crack, and a torrent of shared experiences flooded their minds. They reminisced about their adventures, a clumsy encounter at a local bookstore. They recounted the time they got lost on a hike in the south of France, ending up stranded with nothing but a granola bar, two green juices, and a breathtaking view.

Each shared story was a brushstroke, painting a vibrant picture of their past love. With every laugh, every playful jab, the line between friends and lovers felt increasingly blurred. The comfortable silence they'd strived for earlier seemed a distant memory, replaced by an easy flow of conversation that only years of shared history could create.

The familiarity of their interaction was both a balm and a poison. They'd fallen into an old comfortableness, one that both recognized, deep down, as a home they could no longer share.

The night went on, and the arrival of take-out momentarily broke the tension. The act of setting out plates and choosing something mindless to watch felt like a step back towards their agreed-upon boundaries.  

Neither spoke of it, the desire to cling to this stolen moment of normalcy outweighing the need to address the elephant in the room. The movie became a background hum, the plotline irrelevant compared to the unspoken narrative playing out between them.

A comfortable silence settled over them as the movie progressed. Exhaustion from the relentless stress of the past day crept in, their eyelids growing heavy.  Before they fully realized it, Harry's head dipped forward, finding a natural resting place on Y/N's shoulder. She stiffened for a fleeting moment before relaxing, a sigh escaping her lips.

Subconsciously, they shifted closer, years of shared habits overriding any pretense of detachment. As sleep stole over them, nestled together on the couch, it felt achingly, heartbreakingly like home. 

The outside world, with its prying eyes and manufactured narratives, ceased to exist. For a few fleeting hours, they were just them, finding solace in a love they couldn't bear to name.

taglist:

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @one-sweet-gubler @jjsgirlp4l @lovingmesstuff @gem1712 @tinyhrry @kipperthedog2004 @behindmygreyeyes @theekyliepage @winterrays @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @slutforcoffein @a-strange-familiar @grapejuice-rry @tranquility-moon @tpwksummer @awkwardbisexuall @ameerakane20 @harryspirate @that-one-little-soybean @voniikg @lovergirl42442 @daydreamingwithaseaview @harrysdaydream22 @lonelyxhabit @obsessed-with-every-book-ever @silenthappyplace @hesdebility @lomlhstyles @cookielovesbook-akie @champagneneen @tbsloneely @b-reads-things @awatt31 @walkingfromlondon @snorksquid101 @imtooindecisiveforthisshit @hannah9921 @moonstoneandmoonlight @renatavieira @harrysluvv @daphnesutton @oknothanks26 @satellitelh

[sweetcherryharry]

Hi! It seems the tag list isn’t working :(

thank you for telling me! i'll check it out <3

[sweetcherryharry]

Begin Again — 05

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N had a secret relationship for almost two years, until they broke up. A year later, she shows up at one of his Love On Tour shows.

(masterlist)

In the City of Angels, Y/N awoke to the gentle caress of the morning sun peeping through the open curtains of Natalie’s apartment blinds. Slowly, her eyelids fluttered, waking up and shaking off the last bits of sleepiness.

As consciousness gradually flooded back to her, the memories of the night before began to resurface. The concert, her unexpected encounter with Harry, and the late-night heart-to-heart with her friends Natalie and Maia had all been overwhelming, to say the least. 

However, now, as the bright daylight filled the room, it all felt like a surreal dream, leaving her questioning the reality of the previous night's experiences.

The three girls were sprawled on the bedroom’s king-sized bed, Natalie curled up on one side of the bed –opposite to Y/N– and Maia, laid in the middle of both, her phone in her hands as she scrolled through her notifications.

The remnants of their sleepover –blankets askew, teacups littering the nightstands– were painting a comforting picture to the intimacy they had shared, the hours spent talking about Y/N's tangled history with Harry.

After their late-night chat at the apartment, Y/N felt the weight of their conversation on her heart like a heavy blanket. She had bared her soul, sharing everything from the thrill of their love to the quiet happiness they once shared and the lingering pain of their breakup. 

Talking about her past with Harry out loud had been a weird mix of relief and vulnerability. It was like the words themselves had dug up buried emotions, setting off a whole new emotional rollercoaster.

“Good morning,” Natalie softly said, her voice breaking the silence. "How are you feeling?"

Y/N forced a small smile. "Tired. Definitely tired. And... I don't know... overwhelmed, I guess?" It was an understatement, but the crazy mix of shock, excitement, and a fear that wouldn't go away was overwhelming and hard to put into words

A light groan escaped Y/N's lips as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. The world tilted slightly before finding its balance again. Exhaustion pulled at her body as if she'd run a marathon in her sleep. She closed her eyes, hoping for a moment's respite before facing the day.

"You sure you're okay?" Maia's voice was laced with genuine concern. "You look a little...off."

Natalie nodded in agreement. "Yeah, do you want to eat something? I can cook breakfast for the three of us, maybe even brew some coffee."

Y/N rubbed her temples, the dull ache intensifying into a persistent throb. "I just need...a few minutes," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.  

The bathroom seemed like a sanctuary, a place to gather her scattered thoughts and seek respite from the whirlwind of the past twenty-four hours. As she stumbled across the room, the cool tile beneath her bare feet provided a grounding sensation.

When she shut the bathroom door, her reflection in the mirror was like a reminder of how tough the night was for her. Her eyes were like, puffy and dull, not the sparkly ones she used to have. There were dark circles under her eyes from not sleeping well, thinking about the past and stressing about the future. Even her skin didn't look as good as it usually does, like it had lost all its color.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Y/N mumbled to her reflection, a flicker of wry humor surfacing despite her exhaustion. It was true. In a way, she had seen a ghost –the ghost of her past– and it had shaken her to her core. 

As she splashed her face with cold water, the icy shock briefly reviving her senses, Y/N couldn't help but think about the surreal twist of fate that brought her face to face with Harry. 

His presence, his touch...it had felt like a jolt to the heart, a reminder of the past they shared. And now, even as she tried to process it all, the memory of their late-night conversation in the bathroom replayed in her mind.

A knock startled her back to the present. "Y/N?" Maia's voice, laced with a hint of worry, echoed through the door. "Are you alright in there?"

Y/N dried her face, smoothing a trembling hand over her hair in a futile attempt to reclaim a semblance of composure. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just needed a minute."

She unlocked the door, trying to school her expression into something resembling normalcy as she faced her concerned friends.  However, their gazes lingered on her reflection in the bathroom mirror, mirroring her own observations of her exhausted appearance.

Natalie, ever the mother hen, gently guided her back towards the bed.  "C'mon, rest for a little bit more. You seriously look like you could use it.”

Y/N let herself be tucked back into bed, the soft sheets a comforting embrace against her battered emotions and aching body. Yet, as Natalie and Maia perched on either side of her, a wave of resistance flickered within her.

"Guys, it's okay, really," she insisted, a hint of defiance in her smile. "I know I look a mess, but I'm alright." She knew they were just looking out for her, but the concerned looks and gentle coaxing brought an unexpected feeling of being coddled.

"We just worry," Maia admitted softly. "It was a crazy night for you."

"Crazy is an understatement," Natalie said, and took a deep breath before talking again, "And I think it's better you discover this news from us than the moment you touch your phone. The whole internet is going crazy about you."

Y/N's eyes widened, sitting up on the bed, both of her friends following, "The internet? Wait, what are you talking about?"

Maia and Natalie exchanged concerned glances. "Nat, maybe it's better if…" Maia's voice trailed off, her gaze meeting Y/N's confused expression.

Natalie sighed. "Okay, look, Y/N… You know that Tiktok I took and posted last night? It kinda, sorta…"

"Went viral," Maia finished, unable to suppress a nervous giggle.

Y/N sat up, her heart pounding. "Viral? As in, more than a few likes viral?"

Natalie pulled out her phone, sighing. "Try two million views and counting. People are freaking out about the pretty, mystery girl in the crowd that Harry wouldn't stop looking at."

Maia chimed in, her voice tinged with a mix of awe and concern. “The thing is, many people had posted –from different perspectives– how Harry wouldn’t stop looking at a girl with a green and black outfit at the pit. And, apparently, my video appeared on their for you pages, and saw the girl with that same outfit, and they put two and two together..”

Her voice trailed off as Natalie scrolled through her phone, a frown deepening on her face. "And now there's a comment on my tiktok about a girl that saw you –us– walking backstage last night… And then someone went to your profile and found all your socials, and dug up an old photo dump you posted back in 2021 on Instagram…you know, the one with a sunset?”

Y/N felt the blood drain from her face. The photo. The one with Harry's hand barely visible in the corner. 

Back then, she had asked him if it was okay to post it, and he had said that it was, assuring her that there was no way somebody would know it was him. It was the last picture in the photo dump, and his hand was in the dark corner of it.

But they had been proven wrong.

Her stomach churned, and the bedroom felt like it was spinning.

"That's how they're going to figure it out," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "They're going to know it's me, and then… they're going to go after him."

The weight of realization crashed down on her. This wasn't just a surprise encounter anymore. This was her carefully hidden past about to burst out into the harsh spotlight, threatening to upend her quiet life and unravel the secrets they'd gone to great lengths to protect.

And she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Not just his reaction, but the onslaught he was about to face. His career, built with such care and dedication, was suddenly teetering on the edge. The fans, who loved him unconditionally, were about to discover a chapter of his life he had intentionally kept hidden.  Her heart twisted with a pang of guilt, it was her past that was about to disrupt his world once again.

The specter of Harry's fans, his loyal and fiercely protective Harries, loomed large in her mind. Their passion for him was legendary, and the thought of them –along with the media– turning on him because of their shared past was almost unbearable. The online world could be a cruel place, and the toxicity it could spew was enough to make her nauseous. 

A wave of despair washed over her. She couldn't even bring herself to look at her phone, the source of this impending chaos. It felt like a ticking time bomb, Each notification likely included a countdown toward disaster.

Maia, her eyes wide with concern, reached out tentatively. "Y/N, are you alright?"

Natalie, ever the pragmatist, chimed in, but her voice was softer than usual. “Do you want us to... handle the phone stuff for a while? Block comments, report stuff, turn your account private?"

Their kindness threatened to break the dam of Y/N's composure. She blinked back tears, her voice thick, "I...I don't know what to do.”

Maia sat next to her on the bathroom floor, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in a gesture of silent support. "Hey, we'll figure this out. Together."

Natalie moved into action, her practicality a grounding force amidst the swirling emotions. "Coffee? I think we all need a strong cup right now." Standing up, she extended a hand to Y/N. "Come on, let's get out of this bedroom. We can strategize over caffeine."

A shaky nod was Y/N's only response.  Letting Natalie pull her to her feet, she stumbled out of the bedroom like a sleepwalker, the world a blur around her.  The two girls led her to the living room couch, where she collapsed, the exhaustion and emotional whiplash taking their toll.

Maia perched on the coffee table in front of her, her eyes filled with concern. "You look like you could use a blanket," she said softly, draping a cozy throw over Y/N's shoulders.

Natalie returned a few moments later with three steaming mugs. "Extra strong," she announced, handing one to Y/N. "For emergency situations only."

The warmth of the mug seeped into Y/N's hands, a small comfort against the icy dread clutching her heart. She took a tentative sip, the bitterness grounding her to the present moment.

"Okay," Natalie began, a determined glint in her eye, "Let's break this down.  What exactly are we dealing with here?"

Maia chimed in, her tone gentle despite the urgency of the situation.  "The video is getting a crazy amount of views, we know that. And people are starting to piece things together because of the photo, right?"

Y/N sighed. "Yeah. It's only a matter of time before they connect me to...well, to him." She couldn't bring herself to say his name out loud, as if speaking it would make the situation even more real.

"What about Harry?" Natalie probed. "Do you think his team knows about this yet? I mean, it's pretty likely they're monitoring social media..."

Y/N's mouth went dry. She hadn't even considered that. "I-I don't know.” she mumbled.

Maia squeezed her hand. "This must be so overwhelming. No wonder you’re freaking out."

Natalie sat forward, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Okay, so, worst-case scenario: this blows up big. Like, international headline big."

Y/N felt a fresh wave of nausea wash over her.  Worst-case scenarios swirled through her mind: relentless paparazzi, vicious internet trolls, the judgmental whisper of strangers. The quiet life she had built so carefully felt like it was crumbling before her eyes.

"But," Natalie continued, a flicker of steel in her gaze, "we're not going to let that happen. We need to be proactive. Strategic."  She turned to Y/N, her voice firm but reassuring. “Can you try to look at your phone? See what’s actually happening? We need to know what we're up against."

Natalie's words hung in the air, a mix of harsh reality and a glimmer of defiant hope. Y/N knew she was right; hiding from the situation wouldn't solve anything.  With a deep breath, she steeled herself. "Yeah, okay. I'll look."

The words felt heavy on her tongue. Taking another sip of coffee for strength, she reached out a shaking hand. "Can you bring me my phone?"

Maia nodded, eyes filled with sympathy. “Of course. Be right back.” She hurried towards the bedroom.

The silence in her absence felt deafening. Y/N stared at the fuzzy patterns of the blanket on her lap, her mind racing.  Natalie was right – they needed to know what they were facing. But did she have the strength to confront the storm head-on?

Maia returned, her usually bubbly demeanor replaced by an expression of surprise.  She held out Y/N's phone, her voice laced with disbelief. "Um, Y/N…"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "What is it?"

Maia held the phone up, the screen illuminated. "Harry's calling you."

A gasp escaped Y/N's lips. Her eyes widened, disbelief etched on her face. Harry's name pulsed against the screen, shining like a star against all the crazy stuff probably going on on social media. 

Every instinct in her body screamed to ignore the call, to shrink back from the inevitable hurricane of questions and consequences. Yet, a defiant flicker of something else sparked within her. She owed him that much, at least.

"W-what do I do?" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

Natalie and Maia exchanged a worried glance. "Well," Natalie began slowly, "you should probably... answer it."

Y/N's hand trembled as she reached for the phone. It felt heavier than she remembered, laden with the weight of a thousand unspoken words and a future teetering precariously on the edge of a knife.  With a deep, shuddering breath, she pressed the answer button.

Her heart hammered in her chest as the line connected. For a brief, agonizing second, all she heard was static and her own ragged breathing. Then, his voice cut through the silence, low and laced with a familiar concern.

"Sunflower?"

hello! i missed you guys <3 i'll try to post more often, since i have much more story ideas i'd love to share with you! if you want to be added to the taglist, please reply to this post!

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @one-sweet-gubler @jjsgirlp4l @lovingmesstuff @gem1712 @tinyhrry @kipperthedog2004 @behindmygreyeyes @theekyliepage @winterrays @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @slutforcoffein @a-strange-familiar @grapejuice-rry @tranquility-moon @tpwksummer @awkwardbisexuall @ameerakane20 @harryspirate  @that-one-little-soybean @voniikg @lovergirl42442 @daydreamingwithaseaview @harrysdaydream22 @lonelyxhabit @obsessed-with-every-book-ever @silenthappyplace @ameerakane20 @hesdebility @lomlhstyles @cookielovesbook-akie @champagneneen @lovergirl42442 @hesdebility @tbsloneely @b-reads-things @awatt31 @walkingfromlondon @snorksquid101 @imtooindecisiveforthisshit @hannah9921 @moonstoneandmoonlight @renatavieira @harrysluvv @daphnesutton @oknothanks26

[sweetcherryharry]

Begin Again — 04

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N had a secret relationship for almost two years, until they broke up. A year later, she shows up at one of his Love On Tour shows.

(masterlist)

There he stood, right in front of her, a smile playing on his lips as their gazes met. Y/N felt a rush of emotions, a mix of surprise, nostalgia, and an underlying current of something more profound. The unspoken words of their past seemed to linger in the air between them.

Harry, with his soft brown curls and a simple white shirt paired with jeans and worn-out vans, looked like a page from a memory that she had been trying to forget. Yet, as he stood there, the year they hadn’t seen each other melted away, and they found themselves suspended in a moment that defied time; it seemed like the past months never happened.

The Love Band's living room, with its soft lighting and the faint melody of Fleetwood Mac in the background, turned into a cozy space where only the current moment held importance, at least for Y/N and Harry.

"Hi, sunflower," he replied, the words carrying a weight that transcended the casual greeting. The endearment was a throwback to the days when Harry used to affectionately call her by that sweet nickname, a reminder of their time together.

To Y/N, hearing it from him sounded bittersweet, like the echoes of a melody that brought both the joy of nostalgia and the ache of what they were once.

As Harry spoke, his heart seemed to beat in his chest like the rhythm of a familiar song. In awe of her presence, he couldn't help but marvel at the woman she was. The way her eyes sparkled, the slight curve of her lips as she smiled – it was a sight he had missed more than he realized. 

In that suspended moment, their gazes held a conversation that words struggled to capture. Without a word, Y/N found herself stepping forward, drawn by an instinct that transcended logic. Harry, as if guided by the same unspoken force, opened his arms, a silent invitation.

As they embraced, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the comforting warmth of each other's presence. The hug felt like coming home after a long journey, a familiar haven that resonated with shared laughter, whispered secrets, and the soft melody of their intertwined past.

For a moment, the cozy living room encapsulated the essence of what they used to be – a refuge where their souls met without pretense. The faint scent of Harry's cologne, the gentle rise and fall of their shared breaths, all contributed to the sanctuary of the embrace.

However, as they lingered in the hug, reality began to reassert itself. The made-up living room, once an intimate haven, became a stage where the complexity of their emotions played out. They reluctantly pulled away, a mutual understanding passing between them. The connection was undeniable, but so was the need for boundaries.

"I loved the show, Harry, you did amazing," Y/N said, a soft smile on her lips as she attempted to bridge the transition from the warmth of the hug to the safer ground of friendship. "I love the new album, too."

Harry's eyes crinkled at the corners, appreciating her genuine compliment. "Thanks, Y/N. It means a lot coming from you."

In his mind, he couldn't help but think that she was the muse behind the songs, wondering if she realized the entire album was dedicated to her. The melodies and lyrics, born from their shared experiences, whispered a silent acknowledgment of the impact she had on his creative journey.

"I can see how much you've all grown as a band," Y/N continued, her gaze drifting to the people surrounding them, all engaging in conversation between them, trying to give the couple a little privacy. "The Love Band has really evolved, and it's inspiring."

Harry nodded, a humble gratitude in his response. "We've put a lot of heart into it. It's been quite a journey."

"Speaking of journeys, these are my best friends, Natalie and Maia," Y/N chimed in, a playful glint in her eye, pointing towards the two girls that stood a few meters away. "Let me present you to them; they're fans, just like me." She joked, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the playful introduction.

Both Harry and Y/N walked towards them, and as they neared, Natalie and Maia exchanged excited glances, their smiles widening at the sight of the acclaimed musician in their midst.

"Harry, these are my best friends, Natalie and Maia," Y/N chimed in, a playful glint in her eye, gesturing towards the two girls who stood now close to the pair. "Natalie and Maia, this is Harry."

Harry offered a warm smile, extending his hand to each of them. "Nice to meet you both."

Natalie and Maia, both trying to contain their excitement —understanding that he was also their friend’s ex-boyfriend— shook his hand enthusiastically, exchanging introductions with genuine joy. "Nice to meet you Harry, we enjoyed the show so much," Natalie admitted.

Y/N, sensing the formal atmosphere, playfully rolled her eyes. "Okay, you two, you can fangirl. It's okay."

This broke the ice, and they all burst into laughter. The living room, with its soft lighting and the distant hum of Fleetwood Mac's tunes, witnessed the easy camaraderie of new friends. As they settled into conversation, the transition from fan admiration to genuine connection felt effortless, the shared laughter echoing in harmony with the melodies that surrounded them.

Y/N, sensing Natalie and Maia's eagerness to get to know one of the artists they both admired, decided to give them some space. With a smile, she excused herself, mentioning she needed a moment and headed towards the conjoined bathroom.

As she closed the door behind her, Y/N took a deep breath, grateful for the chance to collect her thoughts in the brief solitude. The room's distant chatter and laughter, though comforting, served as a stark reminder of the evening's unexpected reunion with Harry.

As her eyes met her reflection in the bathroom mirror, a mix of emotions played across her face. There was joy, undoubtedly, at the sight of Harry again after a year of separation. His presence evoked a rush of memories, laughter, and shared moments that had shaped a significant chapter of her life. Yet, intertwined with that joy was an ache, a reminder of the emotions she thought time had dulled.

The realization hit her; she had missed him more than she allowed herself to acknowledge. Seeing him, hearing his voice, brought back the echoes of the past, the shared dreams and the bitter taste of the breakup that lingered beneath the surface. It was as if time had folded, and for a moment, the wound felt fresh again.

She held back tears, feeling the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings. The bathroom, with its muted ambiance, became a sanctuary where she grappled with the bittersweet truth of their renewed connection. The mix of emotions was a testament to the complexity of their history, a narrative that had left an indelible mark on her heart.

Lost in her whirlwind of memories and emotions, Y/N hadn't realized how much time had passed. The knock on the bathroom door jolted her back to the present, and she hastily wiped away a stray tear. "Coming!" she called out, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

A familiar voice responded, breaking through the door's barrier. "It's me, sunflower. Can I come in?"

Y/N took a big breath, her heart fluttering at the endearing nickname that held echoes of a shared past. With a decisive nod, she unlocked the door, letting him in.

The bathroom door swung open, revealing a smiling Y/N, standing amidst the faint glow of the room. Yet, as normal as she tried to portray herself, he knew her more than she knew herself.

Harry stepped in, closing the door behind him, his green eyes holding a mixture of concern and understanding. "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

Y/N nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, just needed a moment.” The bathroom felt like their own little bubble and privacy; vulnerable. And for a moment, this was her Harry —well, was— and decided to just be honest. “It's just… a lot to take in, you know?"

Harry mirrored her sad smile, acknowledging the weight of their reunion. "I understand. It's a lot for me too." He gently touched her arm in a comforting gesture, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes. "I never expected to see you in the crowd again… after everything.”

For him, the sight of her in the audience triggered a strong sense of déjà vu, as if time had folded back on itself, recalling the moments when she used to be a familiar face in the crowd every night during their time together.

Feeling the warmth of his touch and the weight of shared history, Y/N found herself enveloped in a spontaneous hug. Harry's arms wrapped around her, a familiar embrace that brought a rush of mixed emotions. At that moment, words seemed inadequate, so they let the hug speak for itself.

"I missed you, bug," Harry whispered, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I'm glad you're here."

Y/N, her eyes damp with unshed tears, managed a small, heartfelt smile. "Me too." The simplicity of those words carried the depth of the emotions they both felt. In the shared hug, amidst the echoes of their past and the uncertainties of the present, they found a moment of solace—a bridge between what was and what could be.

hellooo i'm back!! :) if you want to be added to the taglist, please reply to this post! thank you so much for the support, hope u enjoy &lt;3

taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @one-sweet-gubler @jjsgirlp4l @lovingmesstuff @gem1712 @tinyhrry @kipperthedog2004 @behindmygreyeyes @theekyliepage @winterrays @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @slutforcoffein @a-strange-familiar @grapejuice-rry @tranquility-moon @tpwksummer @awkwardbisexuall @ameerakane20 @harryspirate  @that-one-little-soybean @voniikg @lovergirl42442 @daydreamingwithaseaview @harrysdaydream22 @lonelyxhabit @obsessed-with-every-book-ever @silenthappyplace @ameerakane20 @hesdebility

[sweetcherryharry]

Begin Again — 03

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N had a secret relationship for almost two years, until they broke up. A year later, she shows up at one of his Love On Tour shows.

(masterlist)

“Your names, please.” Was the first thing the three girls —and a disguised Jeff— heard as soon as they crossed the ‘Staff Only’ door, where another two guards who were on the outside had opened the entrance towards them, recognizing Jeff and letting him in with his companions.

Jeff turned to look at Y/N, gesturing her to answer the guard requesting their names, “Y/N Y/L/N,” she replied, taking the lead from her group of friends. 

She knew the routine, she had seen it before. When she accompanied Harry to his first Love on Tour leg in 2021, she never had the need to complete this process since she had a special badge that Harry gave her, letting all the guards know she was his guest and she could come in and out of backstage with no problem.

Yet, she had seen from time to time how the process was; when one of Harry’s family or close friends would attend the shows and they’d meet him backstage, she had the opportunity to see how the protocol to let someone in was.

The guard nodded, writing down her information on his clipboard and what she assumed was the date and time, “You’re whose guest?” 

Before she could reply with Jeff’s name since he had been the one to retrieve her and bring her backstage —along with her friends—, someone beat her to it. “Harry Styles.”

Y/N faintly heard her friends’ quiet gasps leaving their lips right beside her, as they had registered Jeff saying that she was Harry’s guest. From the corner of her eye, she could see that both Maia and Natalie turned to look at each other with wide eyes, not really comprehending what was going on.

The guard simply scribbled down, and turned to look at her again, “Do you have any identification?”

Y/N quickly took her small bag in her hands and pulled out her wallet, where she had her ID. Without a word, she handed him the plastic card, feeling her palms getting sweaty. 

He examined it carefully, before nodding and scribbling down a few more pieces of information; probably her ID number and birthday. After a few seconds, Y/N was handed her ID back and was given now a backstage pass along with it.

“Next, please,” The guard motioned for one of the trio to continue on the security process, and it was Maia who took the step forward. As the guard asked the same questions (except for whose guests they were), Y/N simply remained silent, looking at the long hallway ahead of them. 

She couldn't help but think of the many memories with Harry; fooling and joking around in these backstage hallways.

Harry and Y/N couldn't help but feel giddy with excitement as they made their way down the dimly lit hallway backstage of the arena; Madison Square Garden. 

It was the first of the four concerts he had in the arena for this tour, and they had been waiting for it for months. Harry was extremely nervous, while Y/N was extremely excited and happy for him.

As they walked, Harry suddenly grabbed Y/N by the hand and spun her around, causing her to stumble into him. "Heeyy!" she laughed, pushing him away playfully.

Harry grinned at her, his green eyes sparkling mischievously. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. You just look absolutely amazing in your tee,"

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, yet a warm flush crept up her cheeks as her smile grew. "You know I had to!" she said, trying to suppress a smile. She had seen a very funny tee on Etsy, and honestly, she couldn’t help but buy it for herself. 

It was a black tee that said “Harry Styles’ GF (REAL)”, along with an edited picture of her boyfriend with pink hearts surrounding him.

It had been a surprise for him, and when it had finally arrived at their home and she showed it to him, he couldn’t help but find it amusing.

He said that she needed to wear it to one of his concerts, finding it would be quite funny that the fans had no idea that the tee was actually true. She was his secret girlfriend.

“Please tell me you’ll keep it all night.” Harry laughed, thinking about how amusing it will be to see his actual girlfriend in the crowd wearing that shirt.

Y/N decided to tease him, “All night?” She arched an eyebrow, and shrugged, feigning innocence. “Well, I guess I’ll wear it until tomorrow, no removing it all night, then.”

And as she was expecting, Harry was quick to catch on to what she was implying. She felt his warm hand push her against one of the white walls, quickly putting one of his hands behind her head (to protect it from the hard wall), and the other one on her hip bone, keeping her in place.

“Do you truly want to start this game?” His hand that rested on her hip bone started to trail up, bringing her tee up with it. He looked at her with a playful —yet lustful— look in his green eyes, enjoying himself quite much.

And as she was about to make her next move, a loud voice interrupted them, “Harry! Y/N! Before you continue whatever you think you are doing, let me remind you we have 20 minutes until Harry is on stage!” 

They both turned to look at Harry Lambert, who had an annoyed —yet amused— expression on his face. Y/N couldn’t help but feel like a deer in headlights, caught in her little mischief, as her cheeks turned pink.

On the other hand, Harry couldn’t help but laugh, letting his girlfriend free from his hold on her against the wall, and now opting to take her hand in his.

Without another word, the fashion stylist chuckled and shook his head, before turning on his heel and walking towards Harry’s backstage room, letting them know that he'll be waiting.

Harry turned to Y/N, a huge smile on his face. "I love you," 

She couldn’t help but smile widely at him, too, “I love you even more”

A hand on her shoulder brought Y/N back to reality, away from her daydream. She turned to look at both of her friends, who were now ready to continue on, their backstage badges hanging from their necks, just like Y/N had hers.

“Let’s go,” Jeff said, now directing the girls toward the hallway. He fell onto the front of the group, leaving the trio a few meters back from him to give them privacy, while also directing them towards Harry’s backstage room or wherever they were supposed to meet up.

It seemed that Maia and Natalie both took this opportunity to question their friend, extremely confused and uncertain of what the hell was going on. One minute they were enjoying Harry Styles’ concert, and the next, they were preparing to meet him backstage. All because apparently, their friend knows him.

“How?!” Maia whispered-yelled at her, her eyebrows shooting up.

Y/N could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest for two reasons. One, because she was extremely nervous to admit the truth to them, and two, because with each step they took, it was a step closer to seeing Harry face-to-face for the first time since their breakup.

“Funny story,” she chuckled, letting out a sigh, “Remember I told you about an ex-boyfriend called Harry?”

Natalie lightly slapped her mouth in surprise, while Maia remained silent, her eyes wide. “So you’re telling me that your ex-boyfriend Harry… the one that you dated for almost two fucking years… is fucking Harry Styles?!” 

Without knowing what to say, Y/N simply nodded. 

“Oh my god… oh my god…” Natalie continued, shaking her head in disbelief. “So basically… when he stared at you during the concert while he sang ‘Love Of My Life’… it was because he saw his ex-girlfriend in the crowd?!”

And again, Y/N simply nodded.

“I can’t believe this, oh my god…” Natalie continued to ramble, “WAIT! So Harry’s House is about you?”

Y/N shrugged, not really knowing what to say. She was almost sure most of the album (or all of it) was about her, many things in the lyrics resonating with her and their relationship, yet she didn’t have 100% confirmation.

After a few seconds of silence and following Jeff around, Maia spoke up, quietly, “Have you talked to him since you broke up?”

“No, it’s the first time I’ll see him in almost a year.” Y/N shook her head, before letting out a deep breath, and quickly glanced at her two friends, “I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you before… I promise I’ll tell you everything later tonight, okay?”

Noticing the guilt Y/N was feeling, knowing that Y/N felt bad for not telling them the entire truth, both Maia and Natalie hugged her from each side. Natalie was the first to comfort her, “Y/N… you don’t owe us an explanation, it’s okay. We’re just surprised, it’s all. It’s not every day that one of your best friend’s ex turns out to be a huge pop star.”

That made Y/N chuckle, and before she could continue on, Maia spoke up, “We love you, and we’re here for you.”

“I love you guys so much,” Y/N smiled, and wrapped each of her arms around their friends, giving them a squeeze. “And please, enjoy meeting him, don’t be biased. Harry’s a lovely and sweet guy, and I know that you’re both extremely excited to meet him. He’s Harry Styles after all.”

Natalie laughed, “And this is why I love you!”

As the atmosphere between the girls lightened up, making Y/N feel much better knowing that her friends supported her, their steps became slower as they noticed Jeff slowed down, too. He paused at one of the doors and turned to look at the three girls.

“Ready?” Jeff said to the girls, but he only looked at Y/N, wanting her reassurance. The girl nodded, trying to give him a light-hearted smile.

The man turned towards the door and knocked a few times, before opening the door. “Please, come in.”

Maia was the first to walk in, Natalie following her, leaving Y/N at the back. Before she could cross the door’s threshold after her friends, Jeff quickly leaned against her, “Thank you for accepting, you have no idea how much he’s missed you.” he murmured in her ear, before letting her go through.

Y/N simply gave him another smile, appreciating the words, before walking through the entrance, holding her breath. 

The familiar music of Fleetwood Mac sounded through her ears as it was playing through the room, along with lots of voices engaged in conversation. She was quick to notice where she was; at the “Love Band’s Living Room” (as Sarah loved to call it). It was the room where the band always was in arenas, enjoying themselves before and after concerts, having a snack and a few laughs. 

No matter which part of the world they were in, the band always found a room backstage in every arena to make it their own. And no matter what, the room always consisted of a few couches, music playing loudly through the speakers, and a big table with snacks and drinks.

When Harry and Y/N were together during Love on Tour 2021, they would sometimes join them before or after some concerts, and honestly, she’d have the best time chatting with everyone there.

Some things never change.

“Y/N!” Before Y/N could look around, she was being squeezed into a pair of arms. “I can’t believe you’re here! I missed you!”

She was quick to recognize the feminine voice; Sarah.

Sarah was the drummer of the band, and was also one of Y/N’s closest friends, as they would hang out often in the past. They’d go on double dates, they’d enjoy girls' time together, and even Y/N would babysit Mitch and Sarah’s baby quite often.

They never lost contact, even when Harry and she broke up. They’d text from time to time, keeping up with each other’s lives, and always saying that they should meet up someday when the tour was over. 

“Sarah!” Y/N exclaimed happily, hugging the drummer back. With all of her nerves about seeing Harry again backstage, she had never considered that maybe she would see the band, too. “I missed you too!”

The two girls broke apart, a smile decorating both of their faces. “I saw you at the beginning of the show, and I couldn’t believe it was you,” Sarah said, making her chuckle.

“I still insist that you should be the leader of the band,” Y/N said playfully, remembering one of the inside jokes that they always had back then. 

But what she wasn’t expecting was for someone else to reply to her.

“I think I’m starting to agree with you,” A very, very familiar voice said to her right, and as Y/N turned her head, she felt her heart skip a beat as she looked into Harry’s green eyes.

Harry stood right in front of her, a smile on his lips as she looked at her. Y/N couldn't help but notice how handsome Harry looked, with his charming smile and brown curls decorating his face. He was no longer wearing his concert outfit, instead, he wore a simple white shirt and jeans, along with his vans.

For a moment, they just stood there, lost in their own thoughts as they admired each other. 

Finally, Y/N spoke up, a smile on her lips, too. "Hi, Harry."

sorry it took so long! my schedule is crazy but finally, here is pt3 to 'begin again' :)

*it's not edited, i'm sorry if it has any mistakes lol

taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @one-sweet-gubler @jjsgirlp4l @lovingmesstuff @gem1712 @tinyhrry @kipperthedog2004 @behindmygreyeyes @theekyliepage @winterrays @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @slutforcoffein @a-strange-familiar @grapejuice-rry @tranquility-moon @tpwksummer @awkwardbisexuall @ameerakane20 @harryspirate  @that-one-little-soybean @voniikg @lovergirl42442 @daydreamingwithaseaview @harrysdaydream22 @lonelyxhabit @obsessed-with-every-book-ever @silenthappyplace @ameerakane20 @hesdebility

[sweetcherryharry]

hi! can you please tag me in part 3 of begin again <3 i love it sooo much! so excited to read the rest :)

of course! <3 thank you so much!

[sweetcherryharry]

When is the next part from begin again coming?

today or tomorrow! :)