#haz.sfw

[duskholland]

Can i request maybe haz seeing you out playing with his niece and nephew in the backyard and he's talking to his mom about you being the one and getting a ring and she asks if he has one and he does and is showing it to his mom and its all fluff

this is possibly the softest request I’ve ever received. thank you for making me swoon over this entire concept lol. I'm really proud of how this turned out tbh. it's fluff central over here.

-- clearing out my askbox -- 

Harrison’s had plenty of nice moments in his life, but he swears nothing will ever beat this day.

It’s early July, and the sun is beating out across his back garden. The flowers seem brighter than normal, the grass greener too, and all of his friends and family are standing out in front of him. It’s his birthday, and you’ve organised a large get-together of everyone he loves the most in the world. He’d almost cried when you’d led him out onto the patio, blind-folded and completely in the dark to your plans, just to reveal the banners, and the people, and a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday. He’d known the moment that you’d squeezed his hand and asked what he thought, that you are, quite simply, the best thing to ever happen to him. 

Harrison loves you, with everything that he has. He loves you so deeply that it’s almost intrinsic, and he wishes he could cling to this moment forever.

“Are you having a nice birthday, love?” 

Harrison looks up, blinking a few times as he sees his mum beside him, a knowing smile on her face.

“It’s lovely,” he responds, chuckling as he digs his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “I think this is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

Phil smiles, reaching up to pat his shoulder. “This was all Y/N,” she says. “She organised this whole thing for you.”

Harrison lets his gaze wander across to you, as he’s done frequently all afternoon. You’d started out by his side, but eventually, Charlotte had convinced you to come and entertain their cousins with her, and you’d been strong-armed into making the rounds with her instead. He’d watched as you’d chatted away with his sister, the both of you laughing like best friends until Charlotte had pushed you down onto a picnic blanket with his niece and nephew, winked, and left you to deal with them yourself.

You’re still out there, half an hour later, playing around with a wooden toy plane, entertaining two toddlers who are looking at you like you’re the world. You make small noises, imitating the plane as you zoom it around, entertaining the kids. Harrison can hear their bubbling laughter from across the garden, and he swears he’s never felt so content in his life.

“She’s perfect,” he finds himself saying. He forces his eyes away from you, a stupid smile on his face.

“She’s good for you,” his mum replies. “I’ve never seen you happier, Harrison.” There’s a brief pause. “I think she’s the one.”

Harrison bites at his lower lip, trying not to smile too widely as he nods. “Come inside,” he mutters discreetly. “Let me show you something.” He leads his mum back into the house, and they stow away in the linen cupboard. Harrison digs through the towels for a moment before procuring a large beaten shoe box. He rummages through it and then procures a black velvet box. “I got it last week,” he admits, passing it to his mum. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

Harrison’s mum gasps, her fingers carefully opening the box and exposing the glistening engagement ring. “It’s beautiful, Harrison,” she coos. Harrison’s surprised to see tears in her eyes. “She’ll make such a lovely bride.”

He blushes, taking the box back. Before he hides it away again, he takes a moment to admire the ring again. He’d been so nervous all day, dragging Tom into jeweller after jeweller. Neither of them knew the first thing about engagement rings, but the moment Harrison had seen this one, he'd known it would be perfect wrapped around your finger. He grins to himself as he pushes it to the back of the cupboard.

“I just hope she says yes,” he admits, scratching at the back of his neck as he walks out from the cupboard, his mum trailing behind. “I don’t know what I’d do if-”

“Oh, there you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Suddenly you’re in front of him, eyes wide with curiosity. Your gaze flickers out between Harrison and his mother. “What are you both doing in there?” You ask.

Harrison’s mum gives you a kind smile. “Just having a discussion,” she says. She presses her hand to your shoulder as she moves past you, adding, “Wonderful party, love. You did a great job.”

You mutter out a few words of thanks before returning your attention to Harrison, the two of you left alone in the hallway. “You’ve been acting quite suspiciously this week, Haz,” you point out, crossing your arms across your chest. “What’s going on?”

Harrison moves forward, his hands finding an easy hold on your waist as he kisses you softly, letting his lips linger against yours for a moment. You sink into him, the confusion on your face melting away as you wrap your arms around him.

“I love you,” he says, a whisper against your lips. “Thank you for everything you do for me.”

You let your hands move up to his curls. A light chuckle falls past your perfect lips, and Harrison swears it’s the most angelic noise he’s ever heard.

“Of course,” you say simply. You kiss him again softly. “I love you.”

[duskholland]

For Harrison Osterfield: 18. I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending they are you Angst: friends to lovers? Or something like that Thanks and have a nice day 😊

-- clearing out the askbox: fluff edition --

warnings: alcohol, a lil bit of angst but not really

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.” / Harrison Osterfield x reader.

----

You’re cold as you pace the street outside the club. Tears stream down your face, solidifying into ice before you have the chance to catch them with shaky fingers. Your heart is banging almost painfully in your chest, and you can’t stop thinking about him.

Harrison. Your best friend in the entire world.

He’d dragged you out clubbing with his housemates, promising he’d pay you back by getting you takeaway. You’d put up a hard front, but you’d have crumbled eventually regardless of what he’d offered you - you’ve always had a weak spot for Harrison. The drinks had started flowing and you’d been having a great time, but then Harrison had been approached by a girl - a very, very pretty girl - and he’d walked off. 

Alone and tipsy, you’d decided the best way to soothe your aching heart was by finding your way into the arms of a stranger. It hadn’t been hard to find someone, and you’d lost yourself in the music and the drinks and the dancing. You’d kissed them, kissed them hard, and recklessly, and pictured Harrison’s face there instead, only to open your eyes and look across the club to see him there, Harrison, staring at you with heartbreak in his eyes. 

Heart in your throat, you’d run. Run all the way outside, to where you are now, pacing, trying to piece together the shards of your aching heart. 

“Y/N.” 

You startle, clutching at your chest as you turn around to see Harrison striding towards you, making quick work of the distance with those long legs of his. He looks good tonight, in a black and white striped shirt and a pair of black jeans. There’s a rosy flush to his face and his eyes are wide with concern.

“Hi,” you say, feeling a little bashful. Your friend stops only when he’s in front of you, his heavy hands falling to your shoulders.

“Why did you run off? Are you okay?” Harrison asks, voice a low rasp. His eyes bore into your soul, and he shifts a hand to your face. “Why are you crying, love?” His fingers brush beneath your eyes, wiping away the juicy tears. 

His kindness and his compassion for you only makes your state worse, and you start sobbing again.

“Sorry,” you whine, embarrassed as you hide your head in his chest. Harrison wraps you in his arms, shushing you gently as he runs his hands all over your back.

“It’s okay,” he says, voice soft. He holds you close until you stop shaking, whispering quiet affirmations. “You can talk to me, Y/N. About anything.”

Maybe it’s the chill in the wind or the fact that you’ve got your face buried out of sight, but you find yourself feeling emboldened.

“Harrison, I… I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

There’s a very long pause, and you spend it with your face screwed up in a wince as you immediately begin to berate yourself for parting with those very personal feelings. Your mind spins off, thinking about how much you value your friendship, how much you care and love Harrison, and how much you’d hate it if this admission changes all of that. You’re about to snap and take it back when you feel him gently coax you from his chest.

“Y/N,” Harrison murmurs. His fingers pick up your chin, and he gently forces you to look at him. His eyes are so blue beneath the night’s sky. “Why would you do that, when you could just be kissing me instead?”

You look at him, eyes widening as his words sink in. “You… But you don’t…”

“I do.” An easy smile breaks across Harrison’s face, and you release a deep breath. “Love, I- I’ve fancied you for years. Just never thought that you’d want me like that.”

“Of course I want you like that,” you exclaim. “I love you.”

Harrison cups your cheeks in his hands, his ring feeling cool against your skin. “I love you too.”

There’s chilly condensation flurrying in the air as you lean forward and kiss him, deeply. The feeling of finally knocking lips with your best friend after so many years of pining and yearning is unlike no other, and you twist your hands into his hair as you hold him as close to you as possible. You can feel him smiling against you, his mouth warm as he kisses you, over and over again, stealing the air from your lungs until you’re panting.

“You’re a good kisser, Harrison,” you murmur, hardly able to get the words out through the giant smile on your lips.

He kisses you again, softly, mouth lingering against yours for a moment. “So are you.”

[duskholland]

omg blurb night!!!!! what do you think about haz spending time with a female costar and maybe some rumours go around and reader gets jealous/upset and just loads loads of angst! (bonus points if it's all pinny and they aren't a couple, but ofc up to you!) 💛

this idea...omg. I got so into it. thank you so much for requesting!

warnings: alcohol consumption

-- continuing blurb night --

You know you have no valid reason to be upset, but as you spy Harrison chatting with his newest co-star across the club, it feels like you’ve been stabbed in the heart.

He’s got his head thrown back as he laughs, the sound muffled out by the banging tunes streaming through the nightclub, but it’s a noise you’re so familiar with that you can hear it rattling through your skull anyway. Harrison seems to lean in closer to her as she pulls out her phone and starts to show him something on the screen, and the sight of him bringing his hand up to rest on her shoulder makes you clench your fingers around your drink.

You might be a little bit in love with your best friend. Just a little bit. And to see him laughing and touching his friend so freely feels like you’ve had the air knocked out of your lungs, and suddenly you’re so jealous you can hardly breathe.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You glance to the side, managing a hard smile as you see your friend Harry there. Concern drifts through his stare as he nudges your shoulder.

“Nothing,” you reply, your voice chipping around the word.

“Liar.” Harry settles beside you, his eyes following the line of your gaze until he sees the offending figures of Harrison and his co-star, huddled up in the corner. “Ahh. I see.”

“What do you mean, you see?” You respond, gulping. You tear your eyes away from the heartbreaking scene playing out across the room to glare at him. When Harry wiggles his eyebrows at you, you scoff and down the rest of your drink.

“I know you think you’re very discreet, Y/N, but I’m not an idiot. And neither is Harrison.”

Your eyes round out with fear as your jaw loosens, a sudden feeling of dread pooling in the pit of your stomach. Harrison doesn’t know, does he? You’ve always been so careful, so intent on keeping your budding feelings under wraps so he didn’t find out and get all... weird about it. Because Harrison is your best friend, above everything else, and you would never do anything to jeopardise your relationship with him.

“What do you mean, neither is Harrison?”

Harry shrugs, his eyes glinting with something you can’t quite trace. “I’m just saying, if the two of you actually talked to one another, maybe you wouldn’t be standing here looking like you’re about to spontaneously combust.”

“I do not look like that,” you bite back. Your eyes shift back to Harrison, and you see he’s now moved a little further away from his co-star. The sight makes you relax. “Did you see the paparazzi shots, though? She was wearing his jacket.” You always used to be the one who got to wear Harrison’s jacket. “You can’t tell me that there isn’t something there.”

Harry just shrugs, and lands a chipper hand over your back. “I won’t pretend I know what his feelings are, but I do suggest that you buck up and just come out with it. And if not, at least try to look like you’re having fun, alright?”

You manage a weak smile. “Fine.”

The hours slip by, wasted away in the shitty West London club with sticky floors. You do everything in your power to avoid bumping into Harrison, which is dumb because he’s your best friend, but it hurts to look at him now. You spend a while fighting with your mind - analysing every single word you’ve said to him over the last month, regretting desperately that you hadn’t told him the second you felt something romantic for him, because now it appears it’s too late, and no matter what Harry says, you’re almost certain that Harrison feels something for his co-star. He’s by her side all night.

It’s not the best coping mechanism, but you decide to down a line of shots and dance the night away. 3am comes and you’re still going strong, despite the rest of the cast slowly peeling off and calling it a night. But you know that all that awaits you at home - in your flat, which you share with Harrison, of course - is loneliness and your thoughts, and you really don’t want to confront those, so more shots is your magical solution.

“Y/N, where have you been all night, I haven’t seen you?”

One moment you’re spinning around with Harry, the next Harrison’s face is drawing into focus. You grin lazily as your eyes take in his sweaty blond curls and his bloodshot eyes, but you frown as you see he’s staring at you with concern embedded over his beautiful, flushed face.

“Eh? I’ve been right here,” you shout out, voice barely cutting across the music. You giggle as someone bumps into your back, and your hands go out to land on Harrison’s shoulders. His fingers move up to hold your waist securely, and you stumble further into his arms. “You’re so warm, Haz, y’know that?” Your face presses into his shoulder as your hands trail along his biceps. “And strong. Have you been going to the gym?”

Harrison laughs heartily, and the sound is like music to your tipsy ears. He hugs you closer, and it makes your heart pang in your chest.

“Thanks, love,” he says, and you can hear the confusion in his voice, but instead you focus on the way he’s gently passing his hands over your back. When he speaks next, it’s directed to Harry, “How much has she had?”

Harry throws out a number that sounds remarkably too high, but you’re too content clinging onto Harrison to really care to correct him.

“Y/N. Hey, look at me.” Harrison’s back, his lips at your ear, and reluctantly you let him pull you out of his shoulder. “We’re gonna go home now, yeah? You’re sloshed.”

“But it’s gonna be cold outside,” you complain, eyebrows furrowing as you stare into his icy blue eyes. His gaze fills with mirth, and you bat at his shoulder. “Don’t laugh at me, Harrison. I’m gonna get cold.”

“Then you can use my jacket.”

Your grin sours immediately. “Ha,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You step back, Harrison’s touch falling away from you completely. “I thought you’d already given your jacket away.”

His face is the picture of confusion, but Harrison reaches out for you anyway and winds his arm around yours. “It’s checked in the cloakroom?” He says, gently guiding you towards the exit of the club.

“No, no, not that one.” You don’t even know if he can hear you, over the noise of the club, but that thought comforts you. “I’ve seen the photos, Haz. I know you gave your other one away.”

You’re in the cloakroom now, and you’re the only ones milling around. Harrison sits you down on the bench in the middle as he begins to trail through the line of fluffy jackets, his gaze continuously being pulled back to you.

“Those photos are bullshit,” he mutters. “The media see one thing and take it completely out of context.”

“But you let her wear your jacket. That means something.”

“Does it?” Harrison turns his head to you, a small grin widening over his face. “I let you wear my jacket. Hell, Y/N, I let you keep my jackets, and my hoodies. Your wardrobe is full of my shirts. What does that mean, eh?”

Suddenly you become very interested in playing with your fingers. “So… You don’t like her?”

“Not romantically.”

You breathe out a large sigh of relief. “Okay.”

Harrison pulls you up from the bench carefully, and he wraps you up in his oversized jacket. You snuggle into the sleeves, and he stays standing in front of you, his warm hands travelling to your face. You freeze under the touch, your lips parting as you take in the way he’s looking at you so intently it feels like he’s drawing your heart up your throat.

���If you weren’t so hammered right now…” He starts, but he trails off with a sigh, and bites his lower lip.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Harrison moves one of his hands away from your face and tidies up a few strands of your unruly hair. “Let’s go home, okay?”

“What were you going to do?”

He’s looking at you softly, and he tilts his head to the side. “I was going to tell you something. A secret.”

“Tell me now,” you whine. He looks so pensive and reluctant, but beneath that, there’s something like adoration floating around his eyes. With a smile flickering out across your lips, you lean in nearer and add, “I promise I won’t remember in the morning.”

And Harrison sighs, but you know from the way his eyes deflate that you’ve worn him down. He links his hands with yours and says slowly,

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. The only person I want to be with is you.”

And it doesn’t matter that you’re beyond drunk, because you know that there’s no chance you’ll be forgetting those words any time soon.

[duskholland]

I am convinced that “your heartbeat’s really loud” with Harrison would be the cause of my death, especially written by you😍 (it’s from the soft sentence starter list but I forgot the number sooorryyyy)

“your heartbeat’s really loud” - actor!y/n x costar!harrison

this one is a lil bit steamy so avoid it if that’s not your jam

masterlist

“Lights, camera, action..!”

You move across the set, walking determinedly. Your eyes are fixed on Harrison, your co-star, but you’re viewing him as Finn - your love interest. As you wrap your fingers around his collar and tug him in for a passionate kiss, you try to tell yourself that the reason your head feels so light and fuzzy is because you’ve managed to get ridiculously into character, but as you push him down onto the bed with trembling fingers, you can’t quite get yourself to believe that lie.

Acting out a passionate scene like this is always a bit awkward. But to do it with an actor that you’ve been crushing on for three months? It’s a little like torture. Because as much as you can enjoy the feeling of Harrison’s slender fingers digging into your waist and the sensation of his plump lips dragging over the expanse of your neck, you know that it’s not real affection and it never will be, and that’s just a little bit heartbreaking.

Nevertheless, you power through. Now you’re straddling him on the bed, his eager hands slipping beneath your shirt and exploring your sides. The focused light streaming from beside the cameras causes you to wince and close your eyes, and you bury yourself further in character as you try to focus completely and solely on Harrison. You’ve messed up his hair now, and the deep blond strands curl around your fingers as you grind down against him, the tension building between you. Just as you’re about to burst, he speaks his line.

“Who said you were in charge?” He speaks, voice raspy. And, like you’ve done in the previous five takes, his fingers find your waist and he flips you over, pushing your back into the mattress as he slips over you. His shirt flies off as he continues to kiss you, your entire body flushing with a hot, needy heat that could only be satisfied under different circumstances. His mouth is like magic and you find your fingers digging into his back as his tongue slips messily past your lips, and you find the line between acting and reality blurring as you cling to him.

It seems to end all too soon as the director yells out, “Cut!” And Harrison rolls from on top of you, collapsing down on the mattress beside you, chest heaving. “Take a break. We’ll continue in 30.” And then the bright lighting turns off and you feel the crew near you drain from the stage, leaving just you and Harrison, laying side by side.

“Bloody hell,” Harrison pants, tilting his head to you. You meet his dazzling blue eyes and manage a bit of a shy grin. “You’re one hell of a kisser.”

You shrug lightly. “It’s been six takes,” you remind, “I’m warmed up now.”

He smirks and moves a little closer, one of his hands moving up to rest over your waist. Under normal circumstances, this might have alarmed you, but this is Harrison, and you’re so used to him now that he could do anything to you and you’d welcome it. His fingers splay over your hip and he shuffles nearer, nuzzling in closer. When you raise an eyebrow, his grin widens. “I’m cold, love,” he murmurs, and you remember he’s still shirtless.

“By all means, use my body heat,” you tease. You can’t help but look at him a little flirtatiously, your body still taut and heady from your intense makeout session. It doesn’t matter that it was artificial: it still happened, and your body is still reeling from being held so closely and passionately.

Harrison doesn’t hesitate, and you stay still as he moves up to you and lays his head on your chest. Your hand automatically go to hold him to you, your fingers wrapping around the toned curves of his biceps. You settle down together comfortably, and your heart aches a little as you think about how forced this situation is.

“Hey, you know what?” Harrison says, voice slow. You can feel the smile in his voice as you hum. “Your heartbeat’s really loud.”

You stiffen. “Uh, um, yeah, I mean, it would be,” you bluff. “Just done some energetic acting.” Definitely isn’t beating because an incredibly attractive man is resting on you…

“Really?” Harrison repeats, teasing in his voice. You meet his eyes and see the mischief dancing over his face. “Is that the only reason?”

There’s no way he knows. Does he?

“Uhh… What do you mean?” You decide to turn the questions on him.

Harrison shrugs, which is a bit awkward given he’s stretched out over you, so he then pulls himself up and back onto his side. You shift onto your side to face him, and suddenly you become aware that you’re the only two left on set, and he’s shirtless right in front of you, his ringed hand still caressing your side.

“Just saying, I don’t think I’ve ever connected like that with someone before.” He looks a little bashful, and for the first time you see the tips of a rosy blush spreading across his cheeks. “Do you think there’s a reason for that?” But you hear the proper question in his voice, and it’s as if a weight rolls from your heart.

A soft grin rolls out across your mouth. “Maybe we just work well together, Harrison.” You inch a little closer, bringing a hand up to push the blond curls from his face. You catch his eye and feel the breath being tugged from your lungs. “Maybe… Maybe we should do this again sometime. Without the cameras.”

He raises an eyebrow but leans nearer nonetheless. “I think that’s a very good idea, love.” And then his lips are on yours, and the chemistry is right back there again. Just this time, the kisses are slower and less frantic, and you let yourself relax into his hold and bask in his warmth as you connect honestly and completely for the first time. And when you pull back to meet his sparkling blue eyes, you know your connection runs deeper than the surface.

[duskholland]

30, 28, 37, 51 from the from the assorted prompt list with Harrison. When you see what they are, you’ll think it’s funny, I think 😂

30. “It’s two a.m., why are you next to me?” + 28. “What do you mean you won’t sleep in the empty bed?!” + 37. “I can’t find my pants.” + 51. “Let me stay. Please.”

fucking hell I love this. bless you nonnie, you get my humour :D

masterlist

–

With a yawn you clumsily roll over, pulling your warm duvet after you. You snuggle deeper into the mattress as your head lolls against the soft pillow, your heartbeat beginning to slow as you finally inch close to sleep. Something must’ve woken you up, but you’re too tired to think about that now. All you want to focus on at the moment is sleeping.

Just as you’re about to slip off to sleep, your tired ears pick up on a rustling coming from directly beside you and you startle, one of your sleepy hands going out to pat the spot in front of you, and you shriek as you touch something warm.

“Fucking hell!” You exclaim, heart beating at a thousand miles an hour. You roll over and immediately turn on your lamp, your eyes wide and panicked as you turn back over and see-

“Harrison?”

The blond blinks his eyes open, wincing as he takes in the bright light. “Turn that off,” he grunts, burrowing his head into the pillow. Your pillow.

“It’s two am, why are you next to me?” You ask, sluggish brain reading the flashing lights of your digital clock. You rub at your eyes as you try to comprehend what you’re seeing.

Harrison, your best friend in the entire world, is finally back from filming abroad in Italy. It’s his first night back in your shared apartment, and whilst you missed him, you hadn’t ever banked on your first night back together being spent quite this together.

“I don’t sleep in empty beds anymore,” he mumbles, eyes shut.

You furrow your eyebrows together in confusion. “What do you mean you don’t sleep in empty beds?”

Harrison’s icy blues meet yours, sending a shiver down your spine. “Don’t like them. Too big, too cold, too… Just, they’re lonely, y’know?” He sighs. “Let me stay. Please?” He blinks up at you to smile cheekily and you feel yourself cave.

“Only because I missed you,” you grumble. You flick the light off and snuggle back down, somehow drifting a lot closer to him than before. His hand brushes up against your arm, and you sigh contentedly. You’d missed him a lot. “Don’t tell me you need to cuddle too?”

“I mean…” 

“Fuck’s sake.” There’s no heat in your voice. If you’re being honest, snuggling up against a warm, cuddly Harrison sounds fairly attractive.

He opens his arms and you inch closer, almost completely against his chest when- “Wait, uh, maybe don’t come nearer,” he mutters. “I can’t find my pants.”

You laugh loudly. “This conversation is ridiculous,” you say. Shrugging, you stop where you are, your forehead just near enough him to press against his shirtless chest. Harrison’s warm arms slip around your torso, and you find yourself sighing happily as he hugs you closely. “Goodnight, Haz.”

“Night, Y/N.” He squeezes you. “Thanks for being the best person ever.”

You smile sadly in the darkness, your heart aching for more, but your head knowing this is the best you’re gonna get. So you close your eyes and drift off slowly, your heart falling into a rhythm with Harrison’s, who’s laying beside you, wondering if you’ll ever reciprocate the feelings that set his heart on fire.