Iconic Performance

What an iconic duo. Love watching them together ❤️

Lizzo: Thanks @coachella … last night was amazing— @harrystyles is a treasure, gods gift to rock n roll, the light that comes from him is real and infinite.. he makes being on stage in front of hundreds n thousands easy, cus it’s w a friend. His team is incredible— and baby them Gucci coats….?!?? Thank you H, like u said “until next time” ☺️

Young Harry Styles

Hi

aesthetic: harry and his millions

I really like this.

could you write something about harry flirting with y/n whose a fan during one of his shows. like maybe she had a sign that caught his attention (like a pick up line or a joke) and then for the rest of the concert he kept staring at her and making little jokes/comments to her.

mint to be

wc: 2.6k

warnings: mild language and really cheesy jokes.

pairing: harry styles x female reader

today is the day.

finally, you’re going to see him.

it won’t be like the pictures viewed from the bright screen of your phone, it’s going to be in person.

you never wake up this early for anything- unless their name begins with harry and ends in styles. it’s exactly 4 am on the dot when you roll up to the venue and the bags under your eyes can prove it.

lining up was a confusing but once the workers started to hand out the wristbands it began to make more sense. according to the first people lined up everyone got a number, and thankfully you got a pretty good one.

once you got back to the hotel, you made sure to take a nap beforehand since it’s going to be a long night. the alarm you set wakes wake you up just in time to be able to get readying eat something without rushing. you shuffle your playlist named ‘my faves’ as you start doing your makeup.

canyon moon begins to play.

your nerves bubble with excitement, and a wide smile breaks out on your face. you truly can’t believe in a mere four hours you’ll be seeing the harry styles sing live tonight.

the outfit you elaborately picked out consists of a matching lilac trouser and blazer set with a matching lace bodysuit peeking out from underneath. you also couldn’t forget the iconic feather boa trend. the black feathery fabric hangs from the back of your neck and softly covers your décolletage. you tug your white hightop converse on your feet (such a y/n thing to do) knowing you wouldn’t survive the night in heels. especially in the pit.

the way you did your makeup makes you skin dewy and glow- the rhinestones that are glued onto your lower lash line shimmer. everything is going according to plan, and you look pretty hot- you can’t lie to yourself.

thankfully, you packed your bag yesterday. hand sanitizer, a few disposable masks, some feminine products, money, gum. anything that would be helpful for you or others around you.

and finally, your sign. not too big that it’ll cover other peoples view from behind you and not too small harry wouldn’t be able to read it.

it was something so cheesy. hopefully he will get a kick out of it and other people will too. you smile as you tuck it under your arm and walk outside to your car.

once the parking is paid for, you line up with the wristband sitting heavily on your wrist.

“this will stay on me until i die.” you think to yourself with a soft laugh.

some other fans in line make small talk with you, which you’re grateful for since you’re by yourself in a city you’re unfamiliar with.

finally, the general admission line begins to move. slowly but surely. the employees in the front are checking for your vaccination status or negative covid test. you get your information ready so you’re not fumbling around for it.

they briefly look over it before scanning the ticket your phone and looking at your wristband. quickly, they send you on your way to follow the rest of the long line down to the pit.

the arena is huge. you stare up at the ceiling, the eight ginormous screens hanging from the ceiling face the crowd in all directions. paranoid thoughts wander into your mind, “oh god, what if they fall?” but you knew they had to be secure.

the line stops as another venue employee directs people into their spots. they point to the barricade for everyone to line up.

no way. you’re getting barricade. your hand grips the metal so tight that your knuckles turn white. obviously, you were going to get it because you have lane one tickets and you woke up so fucking early, but reality is setting in and you’re so nervous.

the venue begins filling up pretty quickly, you watch people scramble into their seats from lower bowl all the way to the nosebleeds. jenny lewis plays a few songs before she tangos with a person dressed as a dog off the stage.

the music starts to play. it’s like a giant room full of old and new friends. everyone sings along to david bowie, olivia by one direction, bohemian rhapsody, and countless of other classic songs on the playlist harry must’ve curated.

the energy is so positive, everyone is so happy to be here. you couldn’t be more excited.

the iconic, but nerve wracking guitar strings begin to strum loudly over your head; sweet thang by shuggie otis.

the whole room roars with screams as the lights dim. spotlights fly around, almost blinding you as it hits a certain angle toward your face.

no way. no way. no fucking way. the band is walking on stage.

your eyes widen as this moment truly sets in. niji, sarah, ny oh, elin, pauli, and last but not least mitchell rowland.

golden starts briefly. the bunnies flash on the screen. you scream so loud and jump along with the people beside you.

“to do a dull thing with style is preferable to doing a dangerous thing without it.”

the girl next to you is completely sobbing, her tears soaking her mask, practically drowning herself with the wet fabric.

the chime starts again and the bunnies flash.

“to do a dangerous thing with style is what I call art.”

your eyes dart around as you struggle to hear what the man is saying next.

suddenly you see something rising from the center of the stage. the screams become louder than ever.

“oh my god!” you exclaim so loud as his fluffy brown head of hair is highlighted by a spotlight.

the girl next to you grips your arm out of pure excitement and you grab her hand for moral support. “oh my god! it’s really him!” you screech as he starts to sing along to golden. “i know! oh my god! it’s him!” she repeats over a few times.

you jump in unison with the people around you, screaming and throwing your hands in the air. he smiles as his eyes dart around, his lips pressing into his microphone. you can see his dimples from where you’re at.

he sings through golden as he walks around the stage, waving to fans and completely making everyone lose their sanity.

the song ends and he transitions into carolina.

this can’t be real.

as you dance like no one is watching, you raise and wave your hands as he comes around to your side of the stage.

shit, the sign!

you quickly pick it up to raise it in the air, his eyes immediately catch it. his eyebrows knit together in the middle, and he chuckles during his line and shakes his head. harry LAUGHED at your sign.

he finishes his verse, the music still playing behind him. “i’ll be back.” he says to you, loud enough so you could barely hear his voice over the music.

shock runs through your veins and you nod your head vigorously at him. he continues to dance and perform around the diamond shaped stage.

you let the sign hang over the front of the barricade so it wouldn’t get stomped on, one hand holds it in place as the other pumps your fist into the air while you dance.

he skips around the stage, blowing kisses to people and then carolina ends.

“thank you so much! our job for the next ninety-something minutes is to entertain you. i promise i will do my very best, but you also have one job and that is to have as much fun as you possibly can have.“ he continues his speech, but it’s so hard to hear over the screams.

he makes his way with his mic to your side of the stage again, “but before we continue, i would love to acknowledge this sign.” he stops in front of you, and your whole body heats up. “may i read it?”

“yes!” you shout at him and nod again to make sure he knows it’s okay.

he chuckles again as he raises the mic to his mouth, his laugh reverberates throughout the whole venue. he shakes his head as he rests his hand on his hip, “if you were a vegetable, you’d be a ‘cute-cumber’.” the crowd screams and laughs along with him.

you can’t help but laugh too, realizing how bad it really is. “wow that’s bad. that’s a real bugger.” he laughs again, making everyone scream.

“but i like it. thank you. what’s your name?” he bows his head toward you, his infamous smirk curving its way onto his lips. “y/n!” you scream out.

it seems as if he’s about to walk away, but he slyly turns around to face you again, “then y/n, you must be a banana, because i find you very a-peeling.” he winks in your direction, making all the air seize in your lungs. he walks away from your side of the stage with a cocky grin on his face.

the person behind you grips your shoulders as you stare up at harry. “oh my god.” you wheeze out in astonishment. the people around you are shouting in your face. you’re hoping someone got it on camera.

adore you then picks up right after that, he does his little shimmy right in front of you. is he favoring this side of the stage?

his eyes catch yours again, a small subtle smile forms on his lips as he sings. a rush of confidence burns through you as you blow him a kiss.

his eyes widen with theatrical surprise as he grabs the kiss from the air and shoves it in his back pocket. this man is going to be the death of you.

you watch as he glides from one side of the catwalk all the way down to the other side. you can’t help but feel crazy as he continuously glances at you while he’s running around.

then you see anthony pham, he’s clicking away as he’s taking pictures of harry in action. the photographer stops in front of you as harry comes around to your side once more, singing directly to you, or maybe he’s singing to anthony. it feels like the few seconds of him singing is passing by in slow motion.

everyone around you has their phone up, videoing and taking pictures of the scene unfolding in front of you. there is no way you’d hold up your phone and let it ruin this moment. you’ll be able to rewatch it somewhere tonight.

everything is so real about him. the green in eyes, the way his cheeks are flushed pink, the little brown curl hanging in his eyes as he bends slightly at the waist toward the pit.

then suddenly, he’s gone once again as he happily skips around the stage to entertain the rest of his fans.

you let out a breath you weren’t aware of holding. the people around you are screaming in disbelief,

“i can’t believe he just did that!”

“you are so lucky!”

“holy f&$!ing sh*t!”

harry must’ve known he stirred everyone up with his little charming display for you. throughout the concert, he innocently glances over at you but hasn’t interacted with you in a while. you can’t help but feel a bit bummed. even though you know you shouldn’t since you just had the best experience of your life.

the concert passes by so quickly, almost like every song is two seconds long. you beam at the angelic man singing on the stage.

the way he bounces around like he drank five energy drinks before performing makes you smile.

he speeds through the songs on his album, as well as the banana song and takes a break to go under the stage.

you make sure to record and snap pictures whenever he’s close to your side again. you hope you caught a picture of him staring at you again. just so you can reminisce later on, and also for bragging rights (and probably for your lock screen too).

during watermelon sugar, he jogs up to your side of the stage again. it makes your heart skip a beat as he stops at the mic stand directly in front of you.

he looks out into the crowd, waving as he sings and smiling. he’s so happy. his eyes follow the crowd in the pit down to you in the front, his hand reaches out to wiggle his fingers to wave.

you can’t help but grin so wide. he can’t see your smile from behind your mask but he can read your eyes.

your hand reaches out toward his, knowing it won’t reach but it’s the thought that counts.

the shutters of a camera catch your attention as you whip your head toward the sound. anthony pham back at it once again. this time with a mischievous smile on his face. you wonder if this moment will be posted on his social media later.

the rest of the concert flashes by and soon it’s time to say goodbye. before the last few songs, harry says his long speech about how grateful he is and how he loves to perform for his fans.

you can’t help but let your eyes fill up with tears from how proud you are of him. you practically grew up with him, following him since his early one direction days.

the insanity of kiwi begins. the flashing white and red lights and the amount of people jumping in the stadium makes the floor shake.

an insane idea pops into your head as you push your way out of the crowd to the back of the pit. you grip your sign as you weave and bob through the scattered people.

you watch as he does a smooth spin and then runs down the catwalk waving goodbye to everyone and blowing kisses. he trots down the stairs toward his bodyguards below, swiftly grabbing his black mask to put on his face and then running with them to the exit.

you grip the metal barrier that separates you from walking backstage with him.

he catches your eyes one last time as he runs past, then screeches to a halt in the hallway leading to the VIP area, almost getting toppled over by the large men around him. he reaches into his back pocket to grab your invisible kiss and press it to his cheek with a cheeky grin.

“you’re going to give me a heart attack, harry!” you scream so loud that your voice cracks.

he just chuckles and shakes his head, “i’m sorry!” he shouts back with a shrug as he jogs backward before spinning back around and disappearing down the corridor.

the band quickly exits a few minutes after him and some fans are already leaving to make sure they beat traffic.

your sign hangs limply in your hand, pure exhaustion is finally hitting you as you slump to the feather ridden sticky floor. all this preparation and it felt like it was over in a few minutes.

“psst.” something sounds from above your head. you let your head fall back to look up.

the photographer again? “hey. do you mind standing up for me really quick?”

you slowly rise to your feet, gripping the rail tightly so your wobbly legs wouldn’t give out.

anthony hands you a sharpie, “write your number on your sign and give it to me.”

your eyes widen like a deer in headlights. you go completely still. “what? why?” you question, but you've already turned your sign over and began to scribble it down.

“just for business purposes.” but there’s a hidden sound in his voice. almost sarcasm or a stretch of the truth.

you hand over the sign with a confused look, but before you could say anything else he thanks you and jogs backstage with everyone else. what just happened?

before you could ponder on that thought some more, you force your body to gain enough energy to shuffle out to your car, the feeling of cool night air on your face makes you feel a little bit more awake. you shuffle your sad music playlist as you drive back to the hotel, knowing you’re going to crash as soon as you make it through the door.

the soft bed envelopes your worn out body and you blindly reach for your makeup wipes on the nightstand. suddenly, a ding sounds from your phone and you wildly scramble for the device plugged into the wall.

it’s an unsaved number. is it anthony, maybe? your thumb swipes up on your screen to unlock it, typing in your passcode faster than you ever had before. your heart drops into your stomach, your gut wrenches and twists from the familiar writing. 

unknown sender: Hi, guess who.

-

A/N: hi!! hope you liked this bc i honestly really enjoyed writing it. sorry for the little cliff hanger, just let your mind wander a bit heheh.

This tribute is so sad but beautiful at the same time. Thank you Harrysdimples

THE FINE LINE ERA - WE’LL BE ALRIGHT.

LHH look and sound so good

1d performing ‘love you, goobye’

Enjoyed this so much. A must read.

https://www.instagram.com/tv/CWsBjsogtu7/?utm_medium=copy_link

my brain straight thought about him edging you and all you want is for him to finally just fvck you and then he say what is in the video 😭😭

EDGING

A/N: you asked for it and im serving it. get ready for the juice!

WARNING: adult content, edging... bc he is just obsessed with it.

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

He is still wearing his light blue shiny shirt.

And nothing else

You’re lying across the king sized bed of the hotel room you share, only your lacy thong covering your soaking wet pussy that’s throbbing for him, a pained whimper slips through your trembling lips when he steps closer to the bed and wraps a hand around his rock hard cock, staring down at you with greedy, dark eyes. This is not the soft Harry who likes to cuddle you every night, who brings breakfast to bed just to see you smile first thing in the morning, who always surprises you with little gifts to brighten your day.

No, this version of him is dominant, demanding and in full control of you. Just how you like him.

He came off the stage extra cheeky tonight and judging from the way how he could barely keep his hands off of you at the venue, you knew things would get heated pretty fast as soon as you’re alone.

“What do you want, baby?” he murmurs, a sly smirk on his lips as he gives himself a few slow, but sturdy pumps.

“Harry, please!” you moan, your thighs shutting closed to create some friction at least. He’s been taking his sweet time with you, he stripped out of your dress as if you were a gift to be unwrapped, made you stand against the wall as he sank to his knees, biting into your ass cheeks, his hands coming to tease between your legs that were shaking from excitement. Then he threw you to the bed, like an absolute cave man and made you watch him strip from his light blue pants and underwear, leaving him only in his shiny shirt, because you told him before the show how much you liked it.

His chest is rising and falling in a steady rhythm, some of his post concert sweat is still glistening on his warm skin and you’re dying to touch him, but you know if you don’t do what he tells you, you won’t get what you want.

“Keep them open, baby. Want to see how desperate you are for me,” he warns you, a hand coming to push your knees apart so he sees your wet cunt. “Touch yourself, let me see just how wet you are.”

Your hand moves down your chest and stomach until you reach the elastic of your underwear, but before you could reach under the fabric, he speaks up.

“No, over the thong. Want to see it drenched.”

Another whimper falls from your lips as you press your fingers against your clit, finally feeling your nerves reacting to a touch, but it’s not the one you desire the most. You move your two fingers up and down, pressing the lacy fabric into your cunt, between the lips as it soaks up your arousal.

“Does it feel good? Or do you want something else, baby?” he hums, cocking his head to the side as he keeps stroking himself lazily.

“Feels good, but I want you!” you breathe out as you try to get yourself closer to relief, but your body is working against you. It only wants Harry and you can’t blame yourself.

“Yeah? You want this?” he asks glancing down at his throbbing dick. Your voice dies in your throat so you only nod, but it’s not enough for him. “I want to hear you, baby. Beg for it.”

You moan at his words, your thighs twitching to close again, but you remember what he said about wanting them open so you force yourself to obey.

“Please!” is all you manage to get out. Harry steps closer to the bed, his hand letting go of his cock before moving to grab your wrist and pushing it away from you. With one swift movement, he rips the last piece of clothing, making you gasp from the sudden pinching you feel as the fabric gives up around your body, and he throws it to the side without batting an eye. It’s not the first piece he has ruined and surely not the last one either.

He places a knee to the edge of the bed, leaning over your shaking form, his cock springing freely with each movement he makes and the way his tongue slides across his lips gives you shivers.

“You know just one please is never enough for me,” he warns, his voice low and raspy after tonight’s show and you could come just from his words at this point.

“Fuck, Harry! Just… Ugh!”

It’s torture, how his fingertips tap on your clit a few times before drawing a few slow circles, teasing and playing with you.

“Just what, huh? You want my cock? Does your pussy want to be properly fucked?”

“Yes!” you cry out, your whole body on fire. He grabs the base of his cock, brings his hips closer, just enough that he can drag the tip across your lips, pushing a tiny bit into your hole, but pulling back right away. “Harry!” you moan almost as if you were in pain, but in a sense, you are. Every second that passes without him inside you is a painful one and you want him to end your misery.

“I told you, I want to hear you. You ask nicely, you get it. Stop being a brat and use your words.”

Fucking hell, this man will be the death of you.

“Harry, please! I need you to fuck me, need your cock inside me, please! I’m begging!”

The smirk on his face is so smug, so confident, you love it even if he is making you suffer. You’d do anything for him and he knows exactly just how much power he holds over you.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” he chuckles, dragging the tip across you once again, tapping it a few times on your clit, smearing your wetness all over him and you as well. He pushes himself against your hole again, just the very end of the tip entering you, but doesn’t move, only watches you through lustful eyes as you fall apart for him.

“Harry! Fuck me, please!” you cry out, one hand coming flat against his toned stomach as he moves a bit closer, hovering over you. Running your hands up his chest, his neck, you lace your fingers through his hair and pull him down for a needy kiss that he returns gladly. His lips are sucking and tugging on yours, tongue invading your mouth, melting together with yours as his cock is still not inside you.

“Love it when you are so desperate for me, baby,” he growls, positioning his hips so his cock slips between your lips and he moves a little, slipping between them, the tip pushing against your clit over and over again.

He keeps this up, his head moving to the crook of your neck, marking you up as always so you already know you’ll have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow, but now you just want to feel him everywhere.

Then he pulls back, lining his cock up with you and you’re sure he’ll finally give you what you want, but just as you feel the tip entering you again… he pulls back. You gasp, tugging on his hair a little harder as he smirks down at you, so pleased with himself.

“Harry…” you breathe out, but he just chuckles, enjoying the game.

“Edging,” he then murmurs and with one swift movement, he thrusts inside you.

He fills you up fast and so perfectly, you’re convinced you were made for each other. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to him, starts moving rapidly, slamming his hips against yours mercilessly, pounding into you just how you like it. One hand comes to your thigh and he urges you to lock his waist with your legs, you’re more than happy to obey, allowing his cock to bury deeper into you.

“So needy for me, yeah? Who fucks you the best, baby? Let me hear it from you,” he groans into your neck, wet lips brushing against the spot he sucked on earlier.

“You, Harry! Only you!”

“That’s right. You’re mine,” he growls before biting into the soft skin, making you gasp from the sensation.

He is pounding into you so hard, you keep sliding further up on the bed until your head reaches the headboard. He stops for a moment, turning the two of you around so you’re on top, one hand on his chest, the other holding onto the headboard and you barely get situated before his hands grab onto your hips and he starts thrusting up into you, doing the job himself instead of making you ride him.

“Fuck! You’re so good, Harry! I’m so close!”

“Want to cum, baby? You think you deserve it?” he teases you, a few curls sticking to his sweaty forehead, his whole body glistening in the dim lighting.

“Yes! Please, let me cum!” you beg, your eyes meeting his and an animalistic growl erupts from his chest. He pushes himself up into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around you, caging you in them as one of his hands comes to your lower back, guiding you, hinting that he wants you to finish it.

“Ride my cock and make yourself cum, Y/N. Come on, I want to see you using me.”

“Fuck,” you gasp as you start moving your hips, arms clinging onto his broad shoulders. His face is buried in your neck and chest, kissing you wherever he can reach. Though you love the shirt on him, you want to feel him fully naked, so you tug at the fabric and he is quick to rid himself from it, his naked, toned arms wrapping back around you as you relentlessly ride him, feeling your orgasm building up and nearing.

“My girl is using my cock so well, look at that. You like it? You like my cock?”

“I love it,” you nod eagerly and craning your neck you capture his lips just when you feel the end nearing. “Can I cum? Please, Harry, I want to cum so badly!” you beg to him against his parted lips, your breathing mixing together.

“Yes. Do it! Cum all over my cock, baby!”

That’s all you need to explode, pleasure washing over your entire body like a tsunami and you scream his name, your walls tightening around him which brings him over the edge as well. He cums inside you, filling you up so well you’re sure it’s gonna be dripping out of you very soon. He is gasping and panting against your chest, his breathing warming your already heated skin.

You stay like that coming off your high, his hands gently rubbing your thighs, ass, hips and back, lips peppering soft kisses onto your collarbones. When he moves the two of you, laying you to the bed you grunt as he slips out of you, leaving you so empty, already aching to feel him inside you again even though you’re completely ruined at this point.

“I’ll take care of you, baby,” he mumbles, kissing your lips softly before getting up from the bed and disappearing in the bathroom. He returns with a damp towel and he carefully cleans you up, but you don’t miss the smug grin on his face when he sees just how good he fucked you, his semen dripping out of your now sensitive cunt.

“Like what you see?” you chuckle tiredly.

“I sure do. Love to see my girl full of me.”

“And you’re full of yourself,” you scoff, but reach for him to pull him down for another kiss. “I have to get up to pee, but I’m so tired.”

“We also should have a shower,” he smiles, pecking the tip of your nose. He reaches under you and easily picks you up into his arms bridal style and you have no idea how he has the energy to carry you to the bathroom after a show and the way he just fucked you. You stood at the backstage the whole time and only rode him at the end and you’re still completely sent.

He carefully sets you down to the toilet and you do your business without a care as he starts the water in the shower, grabbing two towels for you. When you’re finished, he helps you into the spacious walk in shower so you don’t slip and then insists to soap and wash you, taking good care of you. And just like that, he is back to caring boyfriend mode.

And you just love all versions of him.

x

This is cute

BBCR1: 💕 wishing harry edward styles the happiest of birthdays 💕   @harry_styles

Love his voice

what a time to be alive

Loser for the people in the back👏👏👏👏

Behind that "he's not going to fuck you" //

Also y’all don’t know that! I haven’t met him. Who’s to say he wouldn’t fuck me? Maybe he’d fuck me a lot and really well? That’s also propagating sex shaming, body shaming, and a physical ideal on women and suggesting that they aren’t good enough for Harry to want to fuck. It’s implying inherently something about you is not what Harry would be attracted to enough to want sex out of you, again propagating the idea that he only dates and fucks models and we don’t know his whole sexual history! It also implies he’d only want you for sex or that you only want him for sex which is also pretty damaging considering women are groomed from a young age to be pleasing to men sexually and men are trained to use women sexually to prove their own inherent worthiness as a male. Beauty is a status symbol because humanity is atrocious. Also, they don’t know who they’re saying that to, could be someone with low self esteem, BDD or an ED and it could trigger them. Comments that inherently shame related to sex or the body can be very hurtful to women because of internalized misogyny against our own bodies and being continually held to ideal set by men. This internalized misogyny is what makes women hold each other to unrealistic standards more than men, because those who fit the idea benefit (think models). ** look up panopticism by Foucault and then think about how that applies to advertising to young women** Most of us hold some sort of pain related to our sexuality or our looks. Here’s a nice read for all you lovely nonnies:

https://emmalindsay.medium.com/why-does-dating-men-make-me-feel-like-shit-12c25e539021

Also maybe Harry isn’t good enough to fuck me! Maybe I’m not only interested in him for sex? Maybe he’s not going to fuck me because he’s respectful enough to see my worth beyond my pussy. Idk why I needed to go offf, could be months of repeated shaming in a fucked way that continues one of the things I hate most, who knows 🤷‍♀️ women are more than sex objects, status symbols, and ideals for men. They are human beings.

I LOVE YOU! 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

link