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[planetharrie]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Midnight

In which Harry does an interview with BuzzFeed while playing with kittens and gets slightly too attached to one of them…

⭐️

“Okay, I promise I’ll take pictures of the kittens,” Harry spoke to his two children that had been shrunk into his phone on FaceTime, their two faces up-close to the camera. “When I get home I can show them to you, yes?”

“But do you promise, Daddy?” Little Annie emphasised. Wyatt gave up on having any type of conversation with his Dad and left the room, letting his sister continue to nag Harry.

He laughed, “I promise.” His face then straightened out more serious when his 4 year-old looked firm with her question. “Annie, I promise that I will take pictures of the kittens, okay? Now, I have to go and do the interview.”

“Okayyy, but you will be in big trouble if you don’t. I’ll go get Mummy.” The little one ran with her mother’s phone to return it to her and for 30 seconds Harry was met with a screen of blurry images of his home, muffled talking and finally, his wife’s face came on the screen.

“Hey, Babe!” She chirped, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Hi, Tal. I really have to go, I’m already five minutes late. I’ll see you later, okay?” Harry started standing up and Talia watched him walk around his dressing room.

“That’s okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Harry hung up the phone and carefully placed it on his dressing table moments before being ushered out of the room by a few producers, ticked off at him for delaying his interview slot.

“Hi, Harry! Welcome. .” He was greeted by, who he suspected to be, the interviewer and shook hands with the middle-aged blonde.

“Hello! Where am I sitting?” He asked, eyeing a pink screen surrounded by cameras and lighting boxes. He fiddled with his rings and followed the director’s instructions.

“Well, today you’re on the floor, Harry. Let’s hope you don’t have any back issues!” She joked, her hand gesturing over to the middle of the screen.

Harry laughed back and lowered himself down onto the studio floor. “Don’t worry, I’m used to it from playing with my kids. They forbid me from sitting on a pillow. .”

Earning lighthearted laughs from the crew, Harry looked around nervously with a cheeky smile on his face. He sat with his legs spread out in front of him, his wide-leg jeans pushed up slightly revealing his Love On Tour bunny socks and his burgundy Gazelle’s coating his feet.

“Alright, Harry. We’re going to start recording before bringing out the cats, so on cue. . .” The interviewer explained, backing slightly into her seat and the camera man adjusted the main camera. “please introduce yourself. And. . . action!”

She held an approving thumb up and Harry took a deep breath before starting, “Hello, I’m Harry! Today I’m here with BuzzFeed and I believe I’m playing with kittens. Let’s bring ‘em in!”

He rubbed his ring-clad hands together with an eager and delighted cheshire-cat grin. Those musky-green eyes suddenly light up when six tiny fur-balls with uncoordinated legs trot and wobble over to the giant, unfamiliar man cooing over them.

“Oh, my goodness. Hi guys!” Harry’s voice is soft and he resembles the perfect example of a kid in a sweet shop; hands wavering, unsure who to pick up and hold. “You guys are so tiny. . forget the interview, can I just play with these babies for an hour?”

The crew laughed, Harry’s swift jokes adorning the set. “As much as we think watchers would love that, we do have some questions to ask you, Harry.”

“That’s okay, hit me with them,” Harry doesn’t look up, his eyes still playing dot-to-dot, flickering for one fluff-ball to another, admiring the kittens playing around him. “Can I pick them up?”

“Oh! Of course you can!”

He cups his large palms, scooping up a dinky, dark-furred kitten and holding the small thing up to his face. A button-nosed and sequin-eyed fluffy face aligns with his, both of them peering at each other. Harry could hardly contain the excitement and teeth-grinding cuteness he was containing over this senseless kitty.

She has bright blue hues, and Harry thought they resembled Annie’s little sequin stickers he often finds dotted around the house. A tiny mouth with an occasional appearance of a flat, pink tongue popping out and triangular, perked-up ears sat symmetrical atop of her tiny head.

“This one is beautiful. .” He whispered, the crew smiling patiently at him as they couldn’t physically start the interview until the interviewee was dedicating full attention. After a brief pause for admiration over the tiny creature, Harry finally put her down, shyly apologising with an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, guys. I just love kittens. Okay—I’m ready now!”

“Are you sure?” The interviewer asked, her voice pinched with humour and also impatience.

“Yes, yes! But, before we actually start. .” Harry started, scooping the black kitten back up into his palm. “What are the likelihood’s that I’ll be able to take this little one home with me?”

Harry’s wife opened the front door nearing quarter-to-midnight to him standing on the porch, backpack slung on his left shoulder and his duffel bag hooked in his hand.

“Hi, Baby,” She greeted him softly, stepping out of the doorway to cradle his head and kiss him, “how was the interview?”

“It was good; great in-fact,” Harry responded curtly before dropping the duffel bag to the brick floor. “hey are the kids asleep?”

Talia shrugged with her fingers hooked on the belt loops of her jeans, “yeah, I put them to bed hours ago; why?”

Harry eyed her before very carefully taking his backpack from off his shoulder, unzipping the biggest compartment and revealing the tiny, black kitty. Talia’s jaw dropped and her hands went up to her face. She took a step back, eyebrows raised before coming closer and cooing the animal.

“You think I could quickly surprise them?”

“Harry! Oh, my God, it’s so cute!” She entirely disregarded Harry’s question and was using her thumb to pet its small head. “did—did you steal this from the interview.”

Harry scoffed, picking up his duffel bag and shuffling inside, “no, of course I didn’t steal it, Babe. I don’t know—I picked her up and she looked at me with her beady eyes and we shared a moment together.”

Talia pouted before a short, single giggle and a soft elbow-nudge tailing, “you’re such a softie, H.”

Harry grinned while scratching between the little, black kitten’s triangle ears, “so, do you think it’s too late at night for me to surprise them?..”

⭐️

(A/N started writing this at like the end of august but time got in the way; i started sixth form and then celebrated my 17th bday before falling into the longest depressive episode ive ever had (which im still in.) so for that i am sorry for not posting but i thought i better get something out even tho i didn’t end the fic the way i wanted to. i might make a part two, depends on my motivation. lots of love!🎀)

[planetharrie]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Waiting from Home

In which Harry comforts Lucille after she finds out some terrible news about her sister.

Warnings: Contains very slight mentions of vomiting.

⭐️

When Harry received a dazed call from his girlfriend in the early evening, (barely) explaining she was in hospital, he all but pounced from the sofa he was sunken on.

He’d messaged Lucille just after 7 P.M that night, wondering about her whereabouts,

‘Hey, where are you? Dinners ready :) x’ was his message and he balanced his phone on his thigh, Lucille’s contact open so that he could read her message when it came through. Her iMessage bubble popped up, Harry watched the three little dots fade in and out as she typed before they disappeared all together.

He frowned and picked up his phone, ready type a second message to prompt her to reply, when a banner notification popped down. Lucille ICE read the caller ID and Harry’s thumb automatically pressed accept.

“Hullo, Lovie. Is everything oka—” Harry was interrupted with a sniffle and muffled sob, “Luce? Wha-What’s wrong? Talk to me—”

“Harry—”

“Yeah, Baby. ‘M here, are you alright?” Harry sat up and leant his elbows atop his knees and clutched the phone tight to his right ear. He was met with broken sentences and blubber as his girlfriend attempted to explain the situation from the other end of the receiver.

Usually, Harry would have the patience to allow others to cry and calm down a little before speaking, but in this case, he was so concerned he was getting slightly frustrated with the incoherent responses.

“Lucille, Love, I’m here. Just try and explain—”

“Hospital—I’m i-in the hospital.” Lucille muffled another sob before sucking in a deep breath, “Harry, I—”

Harry was on his feet in an instance, his left hand frantically feeling his joggers’ pockets for his keys. “Fuck, Luce. Do you need me? I-I’m coming, Love—”

“No! No, i-it’s okay. I’m in the,” she took in a shaky breath, her speakers going distorted for a second. “I’m in the waiting room. It’s Sam.”

Harry slowed down, his hand hovering over the front door handle. “Sam? As in your sister, Sam?”

“Yeah! Oh god.” Lucille’s voice broke, seemingly still in shock that it’s her own sister that’s in A&E; she honestly hadn’t processed it until Harry had asked. She began weeping again and Harry’s heart shattered. His eyes trail up to the ceiling as he blinks back his own sympathy tears and swallowed the anxious burn at the back of his throat. He sucked in a short breath and lowered himself to sit on one of the bottom stairs; he had to stay calm, collected and supportive for Lucille.

He found it almost challenging to hold back his own flurry of tears; hearing his wife sob through a speaker, alone in a cold and bare room alone was fucking torture. Knowing he couldn’t simply scoop her up, hold her, kiss her head, whisper caring and comforting words into her hair. Knowing he couldn’t make her feel safe at that very moment made him feel sick. And not only that, but his sister-in-law was also in a bad way; he didn’t know any details but Sam was very important to him too. They were close, basically like biological siblings. She was important to Lucille so she was vital to Harry.

“Alright, Baby, it’s alright. . . just take a deep breath for me,” Harry listened to her regulate a couple of breaths before coughing and a taking some more. “That’s it, Luce, well done. You’re going to be okay. .”

She hummed into the mic and sniffed.

“Now, do you need me to come down to St John’s? Is that where you are?”

Lucille began nodding but quickly realised Harry couldn’t see her. Now she felt stupid. Her emotions were high and beyond regulated and her face crumpled with tears streaming again. She couldn’t focus on a thing, and after not replying to Harry for a good 20 seconds, she got spooked when he spoke again.

“Luce?—”

“Yes, it’s St John’s Hospital. B-but no, you’re okay. I’m okay. Y-you don’t have to come, Harry.”

Harry frowned and shuffled on the step, “Are you sure? Lucille, I hate the thought of you there alone.”

“I’m not. Well, I won’t be; I think my brother-in-law is on his way, so Luke will be with me.” Lucille explained, her voice far more calm and understandable. “I’ll be okay.”

Harry sighed and rubbed his face, staring at the gap between his feet. His heart physically throbbed at the thought of his wife sat alone with her own thoughts in a silent room. He wanted to be there. But Sam’s partner, Luke, would hopefully be there soon. He was a great guy and Lucille felt safe with him.

“Okay, i-if that’s what you want, Love. I’ll come pick you up then?”

“No; I’m going to be here a-awhile, Harry. I don’t want to keep you up, you have work and—”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Lucille. I don’t care about work, right now. All I care about is you and Sam. I’ll stay up for how ever long you need.” Harry’s voice was short. He hadn’t intended for it to come out so sharp and impatient as it did. “Sorry. I’m just worried, Love.”

There was a slight pause on Lucille’s side before she audibly swallowed. “I know, Harry. Look—Luke‘s just arrived. He’s messaged me to met him at the entrance. I’ll be okay. I’ll get a taxi home.”

“Lucille—“

“I’ve called Stacey, I think she’s going to come keep me company; don’t worry. I better go ‘cause Luke’s waiting. I love you. .”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and reluctantly accepted defeat. “I love you too, Luce. I’ll see you later.”

Then the call ended. Harry dropped his phone to the step bellow him and he rubbed his face until it went red. This was sick; he felt like such a shitty, useless husband not being at his wife’s side. But he reminded himself that this is what she wanted and he must respect that.

She has her brother and best friend with her ,

she has a her brother and best friend there,

her brother and best friend are there, she is not alone. .

Was what Harry had to rhyme to himself for the rest of the night to calm his anxiety. He refused to go to bed. He refused to get changed into his pyjamas. He refused to eat the food he made for the both of them. He refused to continue on with his evening, their evening, without Lucille.

So he sunk into the sofa, put his ringer on as loud as possible and stared aimlessly at the flicker of the TV for the remainder of the night.

At around 11, later that same night, Harry woke up to his phone ringing; he must’ve dropped off to sleep at some point.

His eyes squinted, adjusting to the blue light streaming at him from the telly and his phone. The caller ID once again had Lucille ICE flashing at him and he sat up.

He accepted the call and blinked. “Lucille?”

“Hello, Harry?”

“Who’s this? Stacey?”

“Uh—yeah, hiya, it’s me. Look Harry, I’ve just rung a taxi for Lucille. She really needs to come home.”

Harry frowned and sat up even straighter, “I offered to come collect her but she said no.”

“Yup, yeah she told me but she’s stubborn as fuck.” Harry nodded to himself, “anyways, she’s not in great shape. Her eyes are bloodshot and she was practically falling asleep in the chair. She refused to eat and drink anything. She really needs to come home.”

“Yeah, of course. Thanks, Stacey, I’ll look out for the car. Um,” Harry paused and recollected his thoughts, “did—did you hear anything more about Sam? Do we even know what happened?”

Stacey sighed, indicating it wasn’t great news. “Hit ‘n run basically. There’s not severe injuries, thank fuck, but she’s got a few broken bones, concussion. .”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. It sounded awful but he was relieved that no catastrophic injuries took place. A hit and run, how terrible. .

“Jesus. .”

“Oh, that taxis here. Luce, cmon stay awake for me, time to get you home, Babe.” There was a groan and some muffled movements coming from Stacey’s call. “Gotta go, H. She’ll be with you shortly, bye!”

Harry tossed his phone to the side and stood up. His blanket fell from his upright body and crumpled to the ground. He picked it back up, deciding he’d wrap Lucille up in it when she arrived home to keep her warm.

In the 20 minutes it took for Lucille’s taxi to arrive home, Harry had got the bedroom and bathroom ready for her. He’d made the bed all comfy, with a few of her collected Jelly Cats sat up waiting for her. He’d turned on only one lamp so that it was dim and cozy; Harry did not want to overstimulate or overwhelm her.

In the bathroom, a bath had been run with lavender-scented bath salts scattered in the warm water. Lucille’s pink flannel and matching towel were folded neatly on the closed toilet seat along with her pyjamas. Harry figured a quick warm bath would make her feel better; it would relax her a little bit before bed and she’d hopefully feel a little better within herself with clean hair, a clean body and—ultimately—a clean(er) mind.

As Harry went to shut the bedroom blinds, he spots a black taxi pull up onto the driveway, it’s headlights seeping in through the windows. Harry bounded down the steps and jogged out to the car.

He went to the passenger-side window and tapped on the glass. The driver rolled down the window.

“Hey buddy,” Harry handed him a folded £20 note. “cheers mate.”

Harry shuffled sideways and opened the rear door. Lucille sat behind the driver, her head slumped against the door, eyes fluttering shut. He knelt a knee on the seat and reached in for her, scooping his arms under her knees and around her back.

“Cm’ere, I’ve gotcha. .”

Lucille cradled in his arms, barely awake. Harry kicked the car door shut gently and thanked the driver once again through the passenger window and hurried them both inside.

⭐️

“Everything’s going to be okay. .” Harry cooed softly to his wife as he gently washed her face with a damp flannel. Lucille was slumped against the side of the tub, her small hand being used as a pillow to protect her head from the hard porcelain. “You’re going to be okay, Lovely.”

He ran the flannel across her forehead and looked down at her eyes. They were distant. Almost like there was nothing behind them; no thoughts, no emotion. The flannel was dunked back into the bath water before it trailed softly over her pale shoulder and down her arm.

Her naked body was curled up against the side and her long hair trailed down her back, wet after Harry’d washed it.

He took his eyes off Lucille for the first time in a little while to squeeze out the excess water from the flannel and drape it on the edge of the tub. Harry’s attention is back on his wife in an instant and he reaches over to cup her shoulder. His green eyes scan her pale features, searching for something; anything,

He hummed and copied Lucille’s position, using his left hand as a bony pillow for his cheek as he rested it on the bathtub. His finger softly rubs her damp skin and begins to hum a song softly.

Her eyes slowly wonder up to his and Harry gives a small smile, reaching up to stroke her cheek.

“Hi there.” He whispers. Lucille blinks slowly and Harry took that as her way of saying hello back. “Are you hungry, Darling? Do you want some tea? Toast?” His whisper continues but he notices a slight shift in her eyes. They went from content and sleepy to a slight panic-like glimmer. She began sitting up, her face looking flustered.

“Harry—“ she choked out as she used all of her strength to life her chin over the side of the tub, where she suddenly coughed and vomited onto the bathroom floor.

Harry’s hands immediately went to her back and forehead, supporting her weight so that she didn’t slip and fall. He rubbed a small circle on her back to coax anything else up. Lucille coughed over the small puddle of, well, nothing. It was mainly water. She was left panting, her eyes wide like saucers as she realised she’d just been sick.

“Oh, it’s okay, Luce.” Harry cooed, stroking back her wet hair. “let’s get you out of here, hm?”

10 minutes later, Lucille is tucked in in bed; wrapped up in her favourite pyjamas and the quilt tugged up to her chin. Harry is laying next to her, on top of the duvet, soothing her hair back and waiting for her to drift to sleep.

It had been a long, difficult and scary night for the both of them but especially Lucille. The best thing for her was rest. Harry figured he’d try getting her to eat in the morning. He then remembered he still had the bath to drain and the small puddle of vomit to clean up but that could wait.

The stress-induced vomiting had honestly scared him; the fact that she only threw-up maybe a mouthful of digested water made Harry feel sick himself—he hated the thought of his wife not being able to eat anything because she’s so sick with worry and anxiety.

“You’re so strong, Lucille. I hope you know that. Your sister is strong too and she’s going to be okay.” He whispered to her, despite her being fast asleep. He listened to her breathe, soft and faint snores coming from her nose.

Getting tired himself, he left the bedroom and went in to tidy and clean-up the bathroom before climbing back into bed—for real this time. Harry leant over and pecked the softest kiss on his wife’s forehead, not wanting to wake her before cozying down himself and letting his body drift into a slumber.

⭐️

[planetharrie]

A Few Of Your Recent Instagram Stories ⬇️📷

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⭐️

[planetharrie]

yourusername

Liked by 70,383 others

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view all 9,829 comments

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[planetharrie]

Harry X Reader Masterlist

Last Updated: 18/08/23

Jet Ski

[planetharrie]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Jet Ski

In which Harry and you are interviewed on the streets of New York on how you first met. 🦩🚤🌊

This is inspired by ‘meetcutesnyc’ videos on tiktok, although this turned out to be way longer and in depth than I’d planned.

⭐️

There was a cool breeze drafting the streets of New York City, but Harry's hand enveloping yours was enough to keep your entire body warm. You'd both decided that a morning walk through the highstreets was needed after waking up still full from last night's bottomless tacos and fancy drinks. (Well, and to also 'window-shop', as you'd described it.)

"Whew—fuck, I'm still full from that dinner.." Harry cringed as he threw a t-shirt over his head. You hum in reply, glancing at him in the reflection of the mirror you were using. "Fancy a walk? I feel like I'm carrying rocks in my stomach!"

You click the lid back onto your eyeliner wand and whirl your head around, your freshly-washed hair twirling with the suddenly movement. Harry catches the glimmer in your eye, "That to me sounds like an invitation for some window-shopping, babe."

With your cherry-cheek smooshed into Harry's upper arm, you both amble the streets of New York—Harry now $50 short because of a pair of new shoes.

"Y/n, you said we'd just window-shop." Harry winged, unimpressed with the cardboard shopping bag dangling in his right hand. You lift you head up off his arm and glance up at him with slight puppy eyes.

"I know. . . but—" Your argument was slowly cut short when you were approached by two young guys; one holding a mobile phone up, clearly recording.

"Hey, excuse me?" The guy—who wasn't recording—started, "are you two a couple?"

You and Harry slowly come to a halt and he let go of your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist protectively.

"Yes, we are!" Harry chirped, with a tinge of uncertainty in his reply. His ring-clad hand squeezed your waist slightly and you lean into him as the guy continues.

"Great! Would you mind telling us how you first met?" He gently signals to the phone camera and his eyes scan both of you.

You laugh nervously and glance up at Harry, who's cracked a shy smile. He shuffles on his feet and takes you both to the side of pavement, out of the way of other pedestrians.

"Oh—sure! We'd love to." Harry agrees. When he gives an encouraging nod, you look back at the two guys in front of you.

"We met on a lake—" You begin before both you and Harry burst into laughter. He rubs his eye all embarrassed, and nudges you to continue after you'd both sobered up from the fit of giggles.

"Sorry. We met on a lake; I had gone swimming with my friend and we took this inflatable flamingo with us. ." You make a swift glance up at Harry and catch him watching you proudly as you re-tell one of the best days of your lives.

"And Harry," You point you thumb at him, "had actually offered to help us blow-up the flamingo for us 'cause we were struggling!"

Another fit of giggles erupt but just from you this time and your hands cover your flushed face in embarrassment. Harry takes over and you can hear his smile as he talks.

"Oh, my God, Y/n! Do you have noodles for legs?" Your friend cried jokingly as you attempt to to blow-up your inflatable flamingo with a pump. Except, you were laughing too much to even push you leg down on the foot-pump.

You were nearly bent at the waist, hugging your stomach as tears of laughter form in your eyes. You couldn't stop the fits of giggles coming from you. "It—it's too—it's too fucking stiff!" Your sentence comes out broken in between laughs. You try the pump again, using all your leg-strength, managing one large pump of air into the crinkled, plastic flamingo's poor arse.

From a few yards away, a young guy wearing black sunglasses had been watching the two girls struggle for the past 10 minutes. Stood next to a parked black truck, he cracked his own smile when the two girls fell to the knees with uncontrollable laughter.

"Oi, mate. Fancy helping?" His friend grunted under a pile of water-sports equipment in his arms. "Harry, stop being a creep—"

Harry shot him a pointed look, his lips tied in an unimpressed line. He took off his sunglasses and placed them on his friend's head. "Hold these."

"Harry!—" The friend dropped the equipment at his feet with a defeated sigh as he watched his nosy friend walk up the two hysterical girls at the edge of the lake.

"Do you guys need any help with that?" Harry called orotundity as he approached you and your friend.

You quickly sobered up and awkwardly picked yourself up from the grass and tucked your hair behind your ears.

"Uh. . ." Your started, glancing between him and your friend who was still sat, leaning back on her hands. She shrugged and you spotted her concealing a smirk.

"I know these pumps are a pain. I can do it for you, if you'd like?" He insisted, talking with his hands.

"Sure. Thanks." You stand back, shyly covering your bikini-covered torso with your hands cupping your burnt shoulders.

You watch him. He takes off his green shirt and discards it as his feet. His calf muscles flex and tighten as his leg starts pumping. The flamingo finally starts to grow and form into something more than creased blob of plastic.

"He's trying too hard to impress us." Your friend whispers in your ear, her eyes never leaving the generous brunette. You shush her and she laughs breathily.

"Don't. He's sweet!"

He morphs into a squat, his boxers' waistband now on show, as he secures the lip of the air-hole.

"Think I've pumped enough air into 'em—"

"Her." Your friend interrupts him.

". . . her, sorry. I'm Harry, by the way." He blinks.

Harry. You've always liked that name.

"I’m Y/N—oh, and this is Y/f/N. Thank you for helping us." You smile.

"Not a problem. Be careful on the water, heard it can get uh.. quite blustery out there." Harry starts backing away, waving a hand up as a 'goodbye.'

You and your friend share a look; her lips crinkle-up in disgust whereas yours morph into a flattered smile.

"Hey, don't make that face. He was cute."

"He was cringe, Y/N."

"So that's how we first met. Ever."

"And then later on that same day he came and saved me with his fancy little jet ski." You finished, biting your bottom lip with a smile.

The interviewer nodded, "Okay, I need to hear the rest of this story! You say he saved you? What happened?"

Harry sighed and raised his brows, "I had warned her to be careful. She wasn't exactly sober when I met her a second time that day..."

You gently wack him with your hand and he grunts. "I'd had two beers!" You looked back at the camera-guy, "I wasn't drunk."

"She was."

You were about 150 meters out from shore, bobbing up and down ever-so-lightly on the pink flamingo; a half-finished can of Brewdog in your left hand, resting lazily on the ring. Your toes paddled in the murky waters keeping you cool despite the 27° heat practically penetrating into your skin.

With your head comfortably tilted back, you hadn't realised exactly how far you'd floated from you and your friend's little sunbathing spot on shore. Eventually, you tuned back to reality after daydreaming your way for many yards away from Y/f/N. No longer hearing Tove Lo blasting from your tiny travel speaker, you lift your head up along with your sunglasses. You scan the water.

"Oh, fuck. ." You palm your forehead. "Bloody hell."

You seethe a storm of cusses and sit up straighter. "Great. How on earth am I going to get back?"

You spotted the beer can in your hand and don't think twice to down it in one. You looked around. Then looked around again; and again for a third time, your tipsy-brain half-expecting for some magical sea animal to appear and push you back to shore.

But this is Windermere Lake in Cumbria. The only possible magical creature that could sail you back to shore was the element of wind, and for the first time in possibly forever, it was not a windy day in England.

You flinch at the distant buzzing noise ‘near’ your ear, flapping your hand to scare away the imaginary bumble bee. But in reality, a couple of jet skis were coasting the water, creating minor waves that bobbed you up and down.

“Oi! Hey!” You yell, speech slightly slurred as your rock on the floaty. “Stop making those fuckin’ waves!”

A guy on one of the two jet skis, casted a long glimpse over at you as his water-ride slowed. He yelled over his shoulder, making some remarks with one of his arms at his friend before steering over towards you.

You frown and swallow, sitting up a bit as this stranger approaches you. He’s shirtless and wearing a crimson life jacket.

‘He’s wearing flip flops..’ you think to yourself, spotting the green shoes on his feet.

“Y/N. Fancy seeing you again.” The guy jeers, a smirk tugging at his lips. He circles you, his eye never leaving yours.

“You know my name?” You cock an eyebrow at him, a small scowl of disgust at his cheekiness.

“Hmm. .” He hums. “That makes it sound like I’m some stalker-creep guy. Not pleased. I’m Harry. We met earlier?”

Earlier, earlier, earlier? You wrack your brains. The alcohol fuzzed your memory slightly but you do recall a particularly random interaction with a particularly random dude.

“Oh, right. Hi. . . again.” You feel you cheeks tie-dye into a colour of embarrassment.

He eventually stops circling you after a fifth time, which you’re internally thankful for as he’d started making you feel dizzy.

“Are you stuck out here?” He squints at the lake, realising you’re both dead centre of it. “I can help you get back, if you’d like?”

Your ego says NO. How embarrassing was it having to have the same guy to help you out twice in one day; a guy you just met! But your brain still had a ration of sense in it. You wanted to get back to Y/f/N and stand on solid ground.

“I hope you realise how much I want to say no right now, Harry.”

He laughs, lowering his head and shaking it. You kick a splash of water at him with a smug look.

“Come on, Trouble. Hop on and I’ll take you in.” He beckons you.

Trouble. Trouble? You can’t tell whether to laugh, cry, smile or be offended by that nickname.

“‘M not trouble..” You mumble as you attempt to clamber from the inflatable. “Do you always wear those silly vests?”

Harry smiled with mixed expressions of embarrassment, offence and amusement. He looks down at the life jacket.

“Don’t go insulting my life jacket while you’re out here on a ten-quid floaty. I’d rather look silly while having fun rather not look silly and drown.” Was his reply, cheeky as usual. “Which would you rather?”

“At least I’d die and look good.”

“At least I won’t be dying! Come on, take my hand!” His hand reaches out, clasping yours and ready to hoist you onto the back of the jet ski.

Instead, you launch yourself a metre underwater and Harry pulls you back up.

“Jesus Christ, are you alright?” His voice is low and grave as you gasp for a breath.

The water is numbingly cold and with desperation you pull yourself up. You cough, spluttering and spitting into the water bellow.

“Ergh. I think—I think I just swallowed something!”

“I had a firm grip on you. Why on earth did you—well, I don’t even know what you did.” Harry’s body is twisted, facing you.

Your eyes dart up at him and he takes that as a sign to start driving.

“What about your float—”

“Just go.”

“And then after that, we shared each other’s Tumblr usernames and it just went on from there. . .” You finish, your smile wide. “We were too cool for contact numbers, I think.”

“Wow! So what did you think of Harry when you first met?” The interviewer asked, clearly very amused by your story.

“I thought he was charming; very charming. I’ve always looked back and admired how confident he was to approach us but he wasn’t cocky a single bit.”

“And Harry? What were your first impressions of Y/N?”

Harry paused, “Fun. I got the impression that she was a very fun and bubbly person; ya know, those people you just always want to be around?”

“And were you right?”

“Absolutely. She is my person. And she’s so fuckin’ pretty so I couldn’t ask for more.” Harry leans down and drops of kiss in your hair.

“Alright, thank you guys! Have a great day.” The two guys held up a hand and walked away, leaving you and Harry to continue your New York stroll.

“I loved that.” You whisper up at him, his green eyes bright with love and adoration. You appreciated those two (obvious) TikTokers approaching you and asking about your love story.

“I love you.”

“I love you, H.”

⭐️

[planetharrie]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Jet Ski

In which Harry and you are interviewed on the streets of New York on how you first met 🦩🚤🌊

This is inspired by ‘meetcutesnyc’ videos on tiktok, although this turned out to be way longer and in depth than I’d planned.

⭐️

There was a cool breeze drafting the streets of New York City, but Harry's hand enveloping yours was enough to keep your entire body warm. You'd both decided that a morning walk through the highstreets was needed after waking up still full from last night's bottomless tacos and fancy drinks. (Well, and to also 'window-shop', as you'd described it.)

"Whew—fuck, I'm still full from that dinner.." Harry cringed as he threw a t-shirt over his head. You hum in reply, glancing at him in the reflection of the mirror you were using. "Fancy a walk? I feel like I'm carrying rocks in my stomach!"

You click the lid back onto your eyeliner wand and whirl your head around, your freshly-washed hair twirling with the suddenly movement. Harry catches the glimmer in your eye, "That to me sounds like an invitation for some window-shopping, babe."

With your cherry-cheek smooshed into Harry's upper arm, you both amble the streets of New York—Harry now $50 short because of a pair of new shoes.

"Y/n, you said we'd just window-shop." Harry winged, unimpressed with the cardboard shopping bag dangling in his right hand. You lift you head up off his arm and glance up at him with slight puppy eyes.

"I know. . . but—" Your argument was slowly cut short when you were approached by two young guys; one holding a mobile phone up, clearly recording.

"Hey, excuse me?" The guy—who wasn't recording—started, "are you two a couple?"

You and Harry slowly come to a halt and he let go of your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist protectively.

"Yes, we are!" Harry chirped, with a tinge of uncertainty in his reply. His ring-clad hand squeezed your waist slightly and you lean into him as the guy continues.

"Great! Would you mind telling us how you first met?" He gently signals to the phone camera and his eyes scan both of you.

You laugh nervously and glance up at Harry, who's cracked a shy smile. He shuffles on his feet and takes you both to the side of pavement, out of the way of other pedestrians.

"Oh—sure! We'd love to." Harry agrees. When he gives an encouraging nod, you look back at the two guys in front of you.

"We met on a lake—" You begin before both you and Harry burst into laughter. He rubs his eye all embarrassed, and nudges you to continue after you'd both sobered up from the fit of giggles.

"Sorry. We met on a lake; I had gone swimming with my friend and we took this inflatable flamingo with us. ." You make a swift glance up at Harry and catch him watching you proudly as you re-tell one of the best days of your lives.

"And Harry," You point you thumb at him, "had actually offered to help us blow-up the flamingo for us 'cause we were struggling!"

Another fit of giggles erupt but just from you this time and your hands cover your flushed face in embarrassment. Harry takes over and you can hear his smile as he talks.

"Oh, my God, Y/n! Do you have noodles for legs?" Your friend cried jokingly as you attempt to to blow-up your inflatable flamingo with a pump. Except, you were laughing too much to even push you leg down on the foot-pump.

You were nearly bent at the waist, hugging your stomach as tears of laughter form in your eyes. You couldn't stop the fits of giggles coming from you. "It—it's too—it's too fucking stiff!" Your sentence comes out broken in between laughs. You try the pump again, using all your leg-strength, managing one large pump of air into the crinkled, plastic flamingo's poor arse.

From a few yards away, a young guy wearing black sunglasses had been watching the two girls struggle for the past 10 minutes. Stood next to a parked black truck, he cracked his own smile when the two girls fell to the knees with uncontrollable laughter.

"Oi, mate. Fancy helping?" His friend grunted under a pile of water-sports equipment in his arms. "Harry, stop being a creep—"

Harry shot him a pointed look, his lips tied in an unimpressed line. He took off his sunglasses and placed them on his friend's head. "Hold these."

"Harry!—" The friend dropped the equipment at his feet with a defeated sigh as he watched his nosy friend walk up the two hysterical girls at the edge of the lake.

"Do you guys need any help with that?" Harry called orotundity as he approached you and your friend.

You quickly sobered up and awkwardly picked yourself up from the grass and tucked your hair behind your ears.

"Uh. . ." Your started, glancing between him and your friend who was still sat, leaning back on her hands. She shrugged and you spotted her concealing a smirk.

"I know these pumps are a pain. I can do it for you, if you'd like?" He insisted, talking with his hands.

"Sure. Thanks." You stand back, shyly covering your bikini-covered torso with your hands cupping your burnt shoulders.

You watch him. He takes off his green shirt and discards it as his feet. His calf muscles flex and tighten as his leg starts pumping. The flamingo finally starts to grow and form into something more than creased blob of plastic.

"He's trying too hard to impress us." Your friend whispers in your ear, her eyes never leaving the generous brunette. You shush her and she laughs breathily.

"Don't. He's sweet!"

He morphs into a squat, his boxers' waistband now on show, as he secures the lip of the air-hole.

"Think I've pumped enough air into 'em—"

"Her." Your friend interrupts him.

". . . her, sorry. I'm Harry, by the way." He blinks.

Harry. You've always liked that name.

"I’m Y/N—oh, and this is Y/f/N. Thank you for helping us." You smile.

"Not a problem. Be careful on the water, heard it can get uh.. quite blustery out there." Harry starts backing away, waving a hand up as a 'goodbye.'

You and your friend share a look; her lips crinkle-up in disgust whereas yours morph into a flattered smile.

"Hey, don't make that face. He was cute."

"He was cringe, Y/N."

"So that's how we first met. Ever."

"And then later on that same day he came and saved me with his fancy little jet ski." You finished, biting your bottom lip with a smile.

The interviewer nodded, "Okay, I need to hear the rest of this story! You say he saved you? What happened?"

Harry sighed and raised his brows, "I had warned her to be careful. She wasn't exactly sober when I met her a second time that day..."

You gently wack him with your hand and he grunts. "I'd had two beers!" You looked back at the camera-guy, "I wasn't drunk."

"She was."

You were about 150 meters out from shore, bobbing up and down ever-so-lightly on the pink flamingo; a half-finished can of Brewdog in your left hand, resting lazily on the ring. Your toes paddled in the murky waters keeping you cool despite the 27° heat practically penetrating into your skin.

With your head comfortably tilted back, you hadn't realised exactly how far you'd floated from you and your friend's little sunbathing spot on shore. Eventually, you tuned back to reality after daydreaming your way for many yards away from Y/f/N. No longer hearing Tove Lo blasting from your tiny travel speaker, you lift your head up along with your sunglasses. You scan the water.

"Oh, fuck. ." You palm your forehead. "Bloody hell."

You seethe a storm of cusses and sit up straighter. "Great. How on earth am I going to get back?"

You spotted the beer can in your hand and don't think twice to down it in one. You looked around. Then looked around again; and again for a third time, your tipsy-brain half-expecting for some magical sea animal to appear and push you back to shore.

But this is Windermere Lake in Cumbria. The only possible magical creature that could sail you back to shore was the element of wind, and for the first time in possibly forever, it was not a windy day in England.

You flinch at the distant buzzing noise ‘near’ your ear, flapping your hand to scare away the imaginary bumble bee. But in reality, a couple of jet skis were coasting the water, creating minor waves that bobbed you up and down.

“Oi! Hey!” You yell, speech slightly slurred as your rock on the floaty. “Stop making those fuckin’ waves!”

A guy on one of the two jet skis, casted a long glimpse over at you as his water-ride slowed. He yelled over his shoulder, making some remarks with one of his arms at his friend before steering over towards you.

You frown and swallow, sitting up a bit as this stranger approaches you. He’s shirtless and wearing a crimson life jacket.

‘He’s wearing flip flops..’ you think to yourself, spotting the green shoes on his feet.

“Y/N. Fancy seeing you again.” The guy jeers, a smirk tugging at his lips. He circles you, his eye never leaving yours.

“You know my name?” You cock an eyebrow at him, a small scowl of disgust at his cheekiness.

“Hmm. .” He hums. “That makes it sound like I’m some stalker-creep guy. Not pleased. I’m Harry. We met earlier?”

Earlier, earlier, earlier? You wrack your brains. The alcohol fuzzed your memory slightly but you do recall a particularly random interaction with a particularly random dude.

“Oh, right. Hi. . . again.” You feel you cheeks tie-dye into a colour resembling embarrassment.

He eventually stops circling you after a fifth time, which you’re internally thankful for as he’d started making you feel dizzy.

“Are you stuck out here?” He squints at the lake, realising you’re both dead centre of it. “I can help you get back, if you’d like?”

Your ego says NO. How embarrassing was it having to have the same guy to help you out twice in one day; a guy you just met! But your brain still had a ration of sense in it; you wanted to get back to Y/f/N and stand on solid ground.

“I hope you realise how much I want to say no right now, Harry.”

He laughs, lowering his head and shaking it. You kick a splash of water at him with a smug look.

“Come on, Trouble. Hop on and I’ll take you in.” He beckons you, shuffling on his seat to make more room for you on the back.

Trouble. Trouble? You can’t tell whether to laugh, cry, smile or take offence to that nickname.

“‘M not trouble..” You mumble as you attempt to clamber from the inflatable. “Do you always wear those silly vests?”

Harry smiled with mixed expressions of embarrassment, offence and amusement. He looks down at the life jacket.

“Don’t go insulting my life jacket while you’re out here on a ten-quid floaty. I’d rather look silly while having fun rather than. . look ‘cool’ and drown.” Was his reply, cheeky as usual. “Which would you rather?”

“At least I’d die and look good.”

“At least I won’t be dying. Now come on, take my hand.” His hand reaches out, clasping yours and ready to hoist you onto the back of the jet ski. You awkwardly balance on the inflatable, knees shaking as you prepare to leap onto the vehicle.

Instead, you launch yourself a metre underwater and Harry pulls you back up.

“Jesus Christ, are you alright?” His voice is low and grave as you resurface and gasp for a breath.

The water is numbingly cold and with desperation you pull yourself up. You cough, spluttering and spitting into the water bellow.

“Ergh. I think—I think I just swallowed something!” You reach a hand up to your mouth attempting to scrape whatever it was from your lips.

“I had a firm grip on you. Why on earth did you—well, I don’t even know what you did.” Harry’s body is twisted, facing you.

Your eyes dart up at him and he takes that as a sign to start driving.

“What about your float—”

“Just drive, Harry.”

“And then after that, we shared each other’s Tumblr usernames and it just went on from there. . .” You finish, your smile wide. “We were too cool for contact numbers, I think.”

“Wow! So what did you think of Harry when you first met?” The interviewer asked, clearly very amused by your story.

“I thought. . . I thought he was charming; very charming. I’ve always looked back and admired how confident he was to approach us but he wasn’t cocky a single bit.”

“And Harry? What were your first impressions of Y/N?”

Harry paused, “Fun. I got the impression that she was a very fun and bubbly person; ya know, those people you just always want to be around?”

“And were you right?”

“Absolutely. She is my person. And she’s so fuckin’ pretty so I couldn’t ask for more.” Harry leans down and drops of kiss in your hair.

“Alright, thank you guys! Have a great day.” The two guys held up a hand and walked away, leaving you and Harry to continue your New York stroll.

“I loved that.” You whisper up at him, his green eyes bright with love and adoration. You appreciated those two (obvious) TikTokers approaching you and asking about your love story.

“I love you.”

“I love you, H.”

⭐️

[planetharrie]

harrystyles

Liked by yourusername and 894,306 others

harrystyles baby styles. out april 2nd 2024.

view all 93,217 comments

yourusername 👶🏻🩵🩷

niallhoran another little peanut!?

—harrystyles replied uncle niall better keep his saturdays free.

—-lewiscapaldi replied to harrystyles Hey those are Horan and I’s our date nights🖕🖕

harrystylesfan OMG OMG SHUT UP A THIRD??

harrystylesfan2 im crying in class rn

[planetharrie]

PlanetHarrie's Masterlist 2023

Last Updated: 18/08/23

please let me know if any masterlist links don’t work!

Harry X OC oneshots, fics & short stories⬇️

Non-Famousrry

In which Harry is just... well, Harry! Living a happy and humble lifestyle with his wife Lucille alongside raising their two young and energetic daughters: Opal and Dottie. Also includes Dad!Harry oneshots & blurbs.

Famousrry

In which Harry Styles is the biggest pop-star on the planet; touring, performing and writing music all while raising his family. Also includes Dad!Harry oneshots & blurbs AND Instagram concepts.

SingleDadrry - COMING SOON

In which Harry is a widowed single father to his 3 year-old son, Navy. After losing his ex-girlfriend during the birth and his Mum (the only family he remains in-contact with) living across the world, the young Dad struggles to source a decent income to keep his child in his care.

Harry x Reader oneshots, fics & short stories⬇️

Harry & Y/N

In which it's just you and Harry, simple as that!

⭐️

[planetharrie]

Famousrry Masterlist

Last Updated: 14/08/23

Famousrry (Dad Edition):

Stressed-Out Single Mama MOST POPULAR Sunflower Surprise

Midnight

INSTAGRAM BLURBS HARRY X READER

[planetharrie]

Non-Famousrry Masterlist

Last Updated: 03/09/23

Non-Famousrry (Dad Edition):

Toddler Tantrums The Thunderstorm MOST POPULAR First Moon Pity Party UNDERATED Muddy Puddles MY PERSONAL FAVOURITE Rockpools

Non-Famousrry:

Partied a Lil' Too Hard MOST POPULAR

Waiting From Home

[planetharrie]

IG CONCEPTS - HARRY X READER

Last Updated: 2/09/23

Your Instagram:

'nyc we love you' 'moments like these' '"my lasagna is going cold, yn"' 'like this if H should join the ugg club'

'2010 throwback'

'recent instagram stories'

Harry's Instagram:

'my girls' 'happy Internantional Woman's Day' MOST POPULAR

‘baby styles’

[planetharrie]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Rockpools

In which Harry takes his little adventurers in search for rockpools when they find a little friend.. 🐠🏖️🪣

⭐️

Lucille was sunbathing on the golden sand as her husband and two children were down by water. She could hear their faint giggles and splashing of the sea water and Harry's voice carry from down the sand. His words were uncoherent from a-far but they seemed to be having fun. The high-pitched laughs drew closer and she sat up to greet them just in time for her two girls to pounce on top of her, dripping with water.

"Oh my goodness!" She squealed, tickling both of their rash-vest-covered tummies. "Have you been in the water?"

Dottie giggled and blurted out "Yes! Now you're all wet!" before bursting into another fit of giggles. Lucille rolled her eyes playfully. Harry walked up, his hair soaked and swim-shorts creased with water.

"We made Daddy go in the water too!" The oldest, Opal, explained with her cheeky smile. Her goggles were pushed up into her hair and the bottom hem of her rash-vest was bunched up from playing in the sea.

"Yes, you both forced me!" Harry complained jokingly as he squeezed out some of the water in the hem his shorts.

"No we didn't!.." The two girls protested against their father. A lighthearted bicker grew between them, resulting in Harry being punched in the legs by little fists.

"Right!" Lucille interrupted, "Time for another suncream top up—for all three of you!" She eyed Harry specifically. They all groaned and Lucille scoffed at Harry's scrunched-up face. Harry, being in his usual child-like and playful mood, decided his wife's responsible attitude was not was he was going for today.

Diverting his daughter's attention from the suncream top-up, "I heard there's some pretty cool rockpools hidden, shall we go find them?" Harry offered in the midst of Lucille rubbing suncream into Dottie's face. The two girls squealed and ran off out of Lucille's grip.

"No, girls! Wait!" Lucille called after her kids, grumbling and frowning at Harry. "Harry, I don't want them getting sun-stroke; I'm serious, Babe."

"Hey I can be serious too." Harry matured a little and reassured that he'd make sure they would have their 'top-up' as he cupped his hands to catch the bottle of sunscreen.

"If one of them falls and scrapes their knee on those rocks, it's on you." She raised her eyebows and tossed her husband the bottle.

"Babe, I can take care of our children."

Lucille raised a brow before the pulling her sunglasses from her head down onto the bridge of her noise, "We'll see."

-

"Daddy, Daddy! Hurry!" Dottie eagerly called, jumping up and down with excitement. Harry was walking towards them with two sand buckets and the bottle of sunscreen. "Walk faster, slow coach!"

"Hey, cheeky monkey!" He tickled Dottie's tummy. "We must listen to Mummy and put on some more sunscreen, alright?"

The two little ones groaned and crossed their arms but obliged; standing with pouts on their faces as Harry rubbed in the cream on their face and legs. They both wore brightly coloured rash-vests to protect their backs, shoulders and arms. And to also ease Lucille's paranoia of losing them of the busy beach.

"Are you done yet?" Opal whined, starting pull away from her Dad's grip.

"Hang on, Opal . . and done!" He booped her nose with a tiny blob of the yellow product, just like what he used to do when she was a baby.

"Let's go!" Dottie called. She'd already began climbing the rocks, too inpatient to wait for her sister and Dad.

"Wait for me!" Opal tailed her little sister.

"Girls, go slow. We don't want you grazing a knee or elbow, alright?" The two girls jeered back, their little legs and arms helping them clamber over the boulders. Harry chucked the sunscreen onto the sand, away from the tide as it would be a burden to carry while climbing; he made a mental note to remember to grab it on the way back. Harry smiled to himself as he watched his babies explore; he loved that he had two very outgoing and brave kids, with Opal being especially adventurous at only age 7.

"Dottie! I found one!" Opal called, her high pitched voice echoing in the cove.

Harry stepped carefully on the rocks as he makes his way over to where the girls where crouched over a small pool. He bent at the waist with his hands resting on his knees.

"Is this a rockpool, Dad?" Opal asked, looking up at him.

"This is a good find, good job, Opie!"  Harry complemented his eldest, patting her lightly on the back. She looked very pleased with herself and grinned, showing her tooth-gap.

Dottie and Opal suddenly squealed and reeled back from the pool, "A crab! A crab, Dad!"

Harry put his arms around them both as he crouched down to their level and peered into the semi-clear water. Sure enough, a little white crab was crawling around on the bottom of the little pool.

"Hey, little guy," Harry cooed at the tiny creature.

"Where's my bucket? Can we take it home?" Opal asked eagerly searching for the two sand buckets.

"No! He won't have a home then." Her sister interjected, frowning and trying to cover the water surface with her hands to protect the little crab.

"Our house will be his home, though.." Both girls looked up at Harry with two very different expressions on their sun-kissed faces. Harry stuttered slightly and stroked Opal's hair.

"No, love. We can't take him home. He looks super happy where he is. Isn’t that right, Dottie?" He explained softly, kissing Opal's forehead and spotted Dottie nodding from the corner of his eye.

Opal's face scrunched up and began whining, tears brimming in her blue eyes. Harry cooed and tucked her into his bare chest, rubbing her back soothingly. Her shoulders and head jolted as she sobbed. She was a sensitive kid and, not that she was a brat, didn't like being let down. Often enough she didn't quite understand, even after her parents explain the situation.

"Don't cry, honey!" Harry chuckled slightly, taken aback by the sudden burst of tears. "He's happy here in the water with all his crab-friends."

"But I love him!" She sobbed, shuffling her feet in her pink crocs. "He's so tiny. ."

"How 'bout when we get home, we can draw him? Hm? Then you won't forget him," Harry softly cooed, tucking a strand of Opal's hair behind her ear, "How does the sound, Baby?"

Opal coughed in between her cries, nodding slowly into her father's collarbone. "O-Okay.."

"Good girl. Ready to head back? Dottie?" The two broke away from their hug, expecting the youngest to be still looking into the rockpool but there was no sign of the 6-year-old. She was wearing a bright-yellow rash-vest yet there was no small yellow blob to be seen anywhere. Harry suddenly panicked and stood up, leaving Opal to wipe her own tears.

"Dottie! Come on, it's time to go!" He called, trying to remain as calm as possible; for Opal's sake mainly. "Dottie! This isn't funny, come back here please!" Harry's eyes scanned the rocks and, dreadingly, the crashing sea. Opal began using her own voice to call for her sister.

"I'm here!"

Harry whirled around, his flip-flops scraping against the rock. His heart thudded as he clambered quickly towards his daughter who was trying to do the same.

"Dottie, baby!" He picked her up and held her head into his neck, "Don't ever scare us like that! Why on earth would you walk away?"

"I-I'm sorry. . ." She whimpered quietly, her eyes glossy. "I got hurt, Daddy."

Harry looked down and saw blood trailing down his stomach, indicating that she'd scraped her knee. He sighed.

"Let's get back to Mummy and we'll have a look, okay?" He placed Dottie back down on her feet and took both girls' hands and they climbed from the rocks, back onto the wet sand.

Opal and Dottie ran up the beach back to their spot where towels and an umbrella were planted. Lucille sat up at the sound of their voices and gasped when she saw Dottie's knee.

"Dottie! Oh Sweetheart, what happened?" She exclaimed, pulling her youngest in for a hug. "Harry, I told you to be careful with them! I mean what the—"

"It was my fault, Mummy. Daddy was helping Opal cause she was crying and I got bored so I wanted to find more pools. ."

Lucille's frown still didn't leave her face and she winced when her thumb gently soothed over Dottie's bloodied knee. He glared up at her husband.

"Babe, honestly, she just left my sight. I was consoling Opal and I wasn't paying proper attention. I am sorry!" Harry picked up a towel and chucked it around his neck. Lucille sighed and kissed Dottie's cut knee.

"Well, guess we're going to have to be more careful next time, hm?"

The girls nodded, even Harry. "Can I get a special plaster?" Dottie asked, her eyes lighting up. The two parents laughed and reassured her that her special plaster was waiting for her at home.

Perfectly, the sound of an ice cream truck rang down the beach from the carpark and the two girls jumped up at the thought of ice cream. Lucille handed them a pound each from her purse (which took many high-pitched 'pleases' to wean her) and the two sisters ran up to the parked truck where a queue of kids had already formed.

Harry had turned around to pack up the umbrella when Lucille spotted that he'd burnt his back and neck red-raw. She rolled her eyes with a smirk, knowing he was going to be complaining all week about the pain and asking her to apply cool cream on his back.

"Cute back-burn, babe." She teased, looking over the brim of her sunglasses jokingly.

Harry glanced over his shoulder and his eyes widened.

"Fuck, Lucille!"

"I did warn you! Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, ya loser!" She swatted his lower legs with a towel, grinning. “Did you even bring the suncream back? Harry, that was fourteen-bloody-pounds!”

"Yes well guess I’m just the enemy today.” He rolled his eyes. “Maybe next time you can go climb those bloody rocks!”

“Alright, I will!”

⭐️

[planetharrie]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Sunflower Surprise!

Also available on my Wattpad: PlanetHarrie

In which Harry sings a particularly special song for his kids on stage.. 🌻🎤🪩

⭐️

Harry's wife and kids were curled up on a black, leather sofa when a pair of knuckles rapped on the door. Both children lifted their heads from their mother's shoulders as she closed the book she was reading and turned her head in the direction of the noise.

In popped the large, round head of a security guard from behind the door and Talia was met with a large smile.

"Hey guys," Dan started, referring to both Natalia and her two children, "he's ready for you."

'He' being Harry.

"Alright, thanks, Dan." Talia thanked him before sitting up from the couch, "c'mon guys, I have a surprise for you.."

The small family followed security guard Dan through the industrial hallways hand-in-hand. Harry's voice could be heard clearly with an echo, thanking the crowd for coming and introducing them to his band.

To the young mother's right, her son Wyatt began whining and squirming to get his red ear-defenders off of his head. Talia let go of his hand momentarily and stroked the back of his hair.

"You gotta keep them on, buddy; it's going to be loud in there." She tried to explain to her 8 year-old son. The closer they got to the stage and arena, the louder the sound of the speakers and crowd grew and Talia cupped both her hands over an ear each of her kids' protectively.

Dan led them out to the back of the pit where some fans turned and waved, glancing back and forth between tiny Harry on stage and his small family. Wyatt and Annie hid their faces into Talia's leg, overwhelmed by the cheers and screams. They stood behind a guarded barricade and Talia crouched down to her children's level and pointed at the giant screens.

"Look! It's daddy!" She whispered excitedly and Annie cracked a toothy smile, or rather a toothless one as she'd lost her two front teeth, at the sight of her dad literally sparkling on stage.

Harry's speech changed tone from his usual generic one to words far more serious, loving and intimate.

"Tonight," he began, pausing as he gathered his thoughts and waited for the crowd to settle, "tonight’s show is a little bit more special, a little different as my wife and children are attending this evening."

The crowd erupted into shocked and excited screams. Talia stroked her kids' backs gently and smiled proudly at the screens.

"And I believe that they are somewhere in this crowd tonight," Harry's eyes scanned the crowd before turning back at the screen when a camera focused in on his wife and two children’s faces. Talia waved shyly and laughed when both her kids turned away from the lens.

"There they are!" Harry yelled excitedly into the microphone. He faced back at the crowd with a shy grin as he fixed his ear piece. "They're a little shy.." his voice softened into a rasped whisper and he stepped back from the mic and coughed into his hand.

"I would like to play a song for you, tonight, that we haven't played in a while." The audience gasped and whooped with apprehension. "This is also my youngest's favourite song but I would like to dedicate it to both Annie and Wyatt, tonight!"

At the back of the pitch, young Annie squealed with excitement as her Dad spoke about her, understanding that Sunflower Vol.6 was about to be performed to her and thousands of others.

The intro started playing and it took the crowd a few seconds to recognise the first few chords before everyone burst into the song with Harry.

Talia stood up from her crouched position and started dancing shyly with her kids to the chorus, twirling Annie as she giggled and putting Wyatt on her shoulders.

The end of the concert came quickly after the surprise song and as As it Was started the encore, the three were escorted back backstage to avoid the fans who were leaving early.

Buzzed with excitement, they practically skipped back to the dressing room, singing loudly along to the song.

"Was that a fun surprise, guys?" Talia asked as they entered Harry's dressing room, letting her kids run in first before thanking Dan and closing the door.

"Yes, yes, yes! Dad is the best!"Annie jumped up and down and ran over to Harry's suitcase. "Can I lay out Daddy's clothes?"

A small 'tradition' Annie and Harry have is he'd let his daughter pick out the clothes he wears after the show. She often advised by her mother to pick comfy and pyjama-like clothes for her dad, but there have been times where Harry's been forced to get changed into jeans and a sweater and wear it until both children have been put to bed and only then can he finally change into his lounge-wear in the secrecy of his own bedroom.

"Of course you can but how about we pick something like his trackies so that Dad can be comfy. He's worked very hard today." Talia approached gently, peeling out Harry's grey joggers from under his pile of clothes and held them up.

Annie scanned them skeptically before shaking her head. "No, no. Dad needs to look nice, not lazy, mummy!"

'Sorry, H. I did try!'

By the time Harry burst into the dressing room, he was out of breath and jokingly collapsed onto the cold floor where Annie and Wyatt pounced on him.

"Hello you two! Did you like the show?" He tickled under their chins and lifted them off his torso.

"They loved it, H. Didn't you guys? We even danced along!" Talia knelt down next to him and kissed his lips which resulted in gagging noises from their eldest.

"Ewww!" The two kids whined, pulling faces.

"Oi, you both should watch it or else me and mummy are going to come and tickle you until you're laughing so much that you will be really gagging then!" Harry playfully warned, pulling himself up from the floor and both kids squealed and hid behind the couch.

Talia laughed too before spotting Harry's outfit. The silver and red sparkly suit was no longer clinging to his sweaty skin. Instead his body was clad with a black tracksuit and trainers.

"You changed?" His wife asked with surprise.

"You think I'm wearing jeans for that 20 minute car ride back?" Harry cocked an eyebrow while readjusting his hood. He clapped his hands together and walked towards his stuff, "right guys! Time to get home to bed!"

Whines and groans from the children followed before a screech echoed the room:

"That's not the outfit I chose!"

⭐️

[planetharrie]

yourusername

Liked by 205,729 others

yourusername like this if H should join the Ugg club

view all 45,982 comments

harryandynfan HE SO SHOULD🤭

harrystyles I never agreed to this. ❌👢

[planetharrie]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Partied a Lil’ Too Hard

Available to read on my Wattpad @PlanetHarrie

In which Harry’s possibility of holding his liquor is tested to the limits and he leaves a thoughtful gift for his fiancée the following morning.. 🍾🧺😷

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting

(not quite sure why I put Niall as character when Harry’s not famous, oops!🫣)

⭐️

"Alright big guy," Niall wheezed as an unstable Harry began drooping from his drunken grip, "lean on me—that's it, buddy."

They were both drunk; Harry more on the plastered side. Tonight was Niall’s birthday celebration and he'd been drinking like it was his 21st birthday party and not Niall's. The said birthday-boy was holding up Harry's entire body weight on his right side as they stumbled down m the plastered-man’ lamppost-lighten street.

"Here we are, H." The ex-blonde pushed Harry into his front garden when they arrived at his and Lucille's house and had him lean against the frame of the front door. Before knocking, Niall fished his phone out from his pocket; it was about to hit 2 A.M on the dot and he winced. The likelihood of Lucille being awake at this hour was far from high.

Despite his doubt, Niall rapped two of his knuckles on the oak and stepped back while biting his lip. He scanned the house for any lights or sign of life inside and breathed a sigh of relief when the hallway light beamed through the glass of the front door. Rustling of keys was heard on the other side.

Niall's drunk eyes wandered over to Harry who's body was slumped and looked like it was about to kneel over. His chest hitched with a drunk hiccup.

"Mate, brush your teeth when you get in; for Lucille's sake if not yours." Niall grimaced at the putrid stench of booze practically radiating off of his friend.

"Shu'thefuckup. ." Was what Harry slurred back and swallowed warily afterwards with a hand placed on his sloshing stomach.

Lucille eventually opened the door, revealing herself wrapped up in her short, silk dressing gown. Her hair was falling out of its plait and she was squinting with tired and confused eyes under the warm hallway light.

"Hey, Luce." Niall started. He eyed Harry's fiancé carefully as he helped Harry stand straighter. "Sorry for waking you; he's absolutely hammered."

"I. . . can see that. . ." She stepped back and allowed Niall to nudge Harry inside. "Did he forget it was your birthday party and not his?"

"Ello, m'lovie." Harry slurred. Lucille could only attempt a smile but it turned into more of a grimace as she stared up and down her fiancé; he was shirtless, sweaty and his jeans were low and showing his boxers.

"Niall, where's his top?"

She was passed Harry's t-shirt which was clearly congealed with a portion of last night's dinner and drinks down its front. She sighed and draped it over the stair banister.

"Well, thanks for bringing him back. Guess I'm on babysitting duty for tonight." Lucille folded her arms.

"Well, he's your fiancé!" Niall sarcastically saluted as he backed out of the house. Lucille shoved his chest and pushed her front door shut, leaving her and Harry alone.

Now that Niall had left, she unwrapped her dressing gown and draped it across the banister on top of Harry's soiled shirt. She was left in a see-through white tank top that was bunched up around her waist from sleep and a pair of plain black panties. Harry cheekily cupped one of her boobs and smirked.

"Y'look so pretty, Baby. . ." Harry pulled her into his chest and kissed her hair. He'd always been a real cuddly person when he'd get drunk.

Lucille rubbed his bare back with a dry laugh but quickly froze and grimaced when he suppressed a drunk burp into her hair. Her eyes widened and she pulled back, staring up at Harry, who only looked back at her innocently.

"Gross, H!" She chuckled and pulled away, "it's bed time for you.”

"M'not tired, Luce!" He whined, "jus' wanna kiss you all over, Baby. . . m’pretty girl. . .”

Lucille gently took his hands from her chest, "No chance, Mister. Sleep; now."

Harry eventually trudged up the wooden hill and stripped his jeans off and climbed into bed. He'd actually fallen twice while trying to actually clamber onto the mattress but finally got settled with Lucille's help. She too climbed in and tried tucking him under the duvet,

"No, 's too hot." He pouted and rolled over onto his side, his back facing Lucille.

"Too hot for a cuddle?"

Harry's ears seemed to perk up and he rolled back over and spooned his fiancé. She giggled softly and stroked his cheek.

"Did y'have fun tonight?" Lucille whispered softly, breathing in his cologne and alcohol-mixed scent. The answer she received was a soft snore. Her face was gobsmacked and she rolled over with a joking scoff, squirming into Harry's big spoon and drifted off to sleep.

⭐️

When Harry woke up later the same morning, he was met with a face full of sunshine barging in through the window. He groaned and squinted while shakily covering his eyes with his hands.

Lucille was already awake and sat up against the headboard on her laptop when her hungover fiancé aroused from his post-drunk slumber. She set the computer aside and stroked Harry's bed-hair out of his face.

"Hey. . . how're you feeling?" Her voice cooed quietly. The reply she got was another grumble and her fingers pinched her reading glasses to rest them on the top of her own bed-head.

"The sun? Wha'the fuck?"

"Sorry, I opened the curtains; thought it would be good for you to have some vitamin-D on your face," She shrugged slightly, "I can close them if you like?"

"Yes, please." Harry mumbled. Lucille padded over to the window and drew the curtains shut before climbing back into bed.

"Sleep well? It's nearly one in the afternoon!"

Harry slouched himself against the headboard and rubbed the sleep from his eye as he recollected his thoughts. "Not bad; was sick at one point though.."

Lucille frowned and worry crossed her features. She shifted slightly so that she could fully face Harry; she couldn't help the flow of concerned questions that rambled out her mouth.

"You were? Where? Are you still feeling sick?"

"In the bucket." Harry simply replied with a yawn tailing. Lucille's frown only deepened; what bucket?

"What bucket, Harry?" She began subtly glancing around their bedroom for a puddle of stomach contents soaked into their carpet.

"The bucket you left out for me, Luce." Harry shortly snapped, his hand flopping to from his face to his side in frustration. He looked up at his fiancé and was slightly frightened at the complete confusion written on her face. "Lucille!The bucket at the end of the bed!"

His fiancée shook her head. "Babe, I didn't—" Lucille paused and crawled a little to peer over the edge of the bed.

She had been correct; she hadn't left a bucket out for Harry that night which meant that the said 'bucket' was actually their round laundry basket with a pile of freshly-folded, clean clothes inside. "Fuck, Harry!"

Lucille rounded the bed and picked up her basket as Harry swung his legs of the edge of the mattress and sat up. She had a look of disgust and horror on her face as she shoved her clean clothes under Harry's chin. His eyes widened.

"Shi-i-it. . ." He drew out and scratched his forehead shamefully, "God, I'm so sorry."

Crusty, half-dried vomit soaked into the t-shirt on top of the folded pile and Harry had to swallow a gag from erupting while he stared at his mess.

"Luce, I'm really sorry but can you please—" He swallowed cautiously and pushed the plastic washing basket away, "—get it away; it's making me feel weird."

Lucille sighed and dropped the basket to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed next time him, running her hand through his hair. He leaned into her touch and shut his eyes momentarily. "Fancy some breakfast then?” She offered softly but she knew the answer she was going to get.

"Nah, I-I'm good. For now at least.”

"I was thinking pancakes? . ."

"No—seriously I'm good, Lucille. . .”

"With thick maple syrup drizzled on top. ."

Harry gagged (ever so slightly) at the description of Lucille's ideal breakfast, earning a laugh from her. "Alright, alright; I'll stop." She glanced at Harry's features.

His face was an uncomfortable grey colour and his hair was suddenly plastered with sweat to his forehead, making it look like he had some kind of bowl haircut. "Hey. . . You 'kay?"

Her hand slowly began rubbing up and down his bare back while Harry slowly swallowed with a weary shake of his head.

He felt her lean across him and opened his eyes, only to be greeted by a glass of foggy water being waved in front of him. She told him to take a sip. Before he could listen to his nauseous stomach and decline, Harry realised how dry and stale his mouth and throat felt and took the glass in both hands.

The water slid down his throat; it felt good and refreshing so he took another two sips before placing the glass back down on his bedside table.

"Ergh—god. . ." Harry grimaced, his green eyes blinked slowly as he stared at a spot of the carpet intensely. The water wasn't feeling good in his stomach as it did going down his throat.

"What's wrong?" Lucille questioned, tickling the back of his neck softly.

"The water. ." His throat bobbed and Lucille watched the grey fade into green in his complexion. "it's hit my stomach like a rock."

Lucille hesitated before opening her mouth to suggest laying back down. That was then Harry quickly stood up with slight panic but slowed his walking pace when he began heading for the bedroom door.

"Where're you going?!"

An incoherent reply drew quiet when Harry walked down the landing and swiftly shut the bathroom close behind him. Lucille stayed seated, twiddling her engagement ring while listening for Harry to come back from the bathroom.

It was the agonising retch from down the hall that had her standing up and bounding into the bathroom. Harry was knelt in front of the toilet with his head hanging just above the bowl; his mouth opened with a gag and his shoulders rolled forward as he heaved up his second bout.

Lucille swore under her breath and bent down at the waist to smooth back Harry's sweat-soaked hair from his face. With her own hair in her eyes, she scanned the bathroom counter for Harry's mini claw clip and briskly pinned back his fringe. She then knelt down behind him and rubbed the nape of his neck while he panted over the toilet. Harry moaned and shifted closer to his safe-haven, holding his head in one of his propped-up arms on the toilet seat.

"Shhh, you're okay. ." Lucille cooed to her fiancé. Harry barely felt her kiss and rest her forehead on his bare, sweaty back before he rocked forward with another dire retch.

"Lucille." Harry called for her between bouts of projectile vomiting and her heart broke; she'd never heard him sound so vulnerable before. She watched in pity as he reached down and held his bare stomach while profusely spitting into his mess in the water.

"I know, Lovely; just get it all up and you'll feel so much better. . ."

"'S all jus' alcohol—no food." Harry breathily hiccuped at the swirling sight of his sick in the toilet. Lucille reached up and flushed away last night's mistakes before pulling Harry into her lap and tucking his head into her chest.

"Do you feel any better?" She whispered, stroking his hairline. He gulped and nodded, his warm breath fanning her collarbone. Lucille smiled to herself and rubbed slow, firm circles along his back.

The two sat for a few minutes in comfortable silence, Lucille rocking them both side to side ever so slightly.

Harry pulled away from her touch and sat up after a while and Lucille was on high alert, thinking he was going to be sick again. Her panic settled when he cracked his cheeky smile and tucked her hair behind her ear,

"Lucille, I think I'm ready to stomach some of those pancakes of yours."

⭐️

[planetharrie]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Muddy Puddles

Also available to read on my Wattpad @PlanetHarrie

In which Harry’s go-to rainy day activities are rinsed dry when little Opal sees incredible puddles outside and the urge to jump in them ends in disaster.. 🌧️🧥🪟

⭐️

“Dad, I’m b-o-ored!”

Harry sat back on the soles of his feet, and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I know, Love.” He sympathised. A hand of his brushed his matted hair back from his face and he shared a small smile with his 5 year-old. “How about we. . . do some colouring?”

“We already did that!” Opal squeaked from her spot by the lounge window.

That was true. The current rainstorm outside had caged the father and daughter inside their small townhouse for the day. They’d scrambled their way through Opal’s Lego boxes, completed three jigsaw puzzles, coloured and played with Opal’s naked Barbies for an hour before she’d chucked her dolls to the floor and decided she’d rather gaze out the window.

Harry’s legs were now far too numb for his liking and he glanced around the living room floor that was cluttered with their discarded rainy-day activities.

“Well. . . How ‘bout we watch a film? ‘M a bit tired, Love.” He blew out a breath and his cherry lips rippled ever so slightly. He glanced up at the clock on the mantelpiece; it was four P.M and he knew he needed to start getting tea ready. “We can have some din-dins while we watch?”

Opal pouted and squirmed in the armchair she was using to look out the condensed windows. Her pigtails bounced when her feet hopped onto the carpet.

“No, Dada! That’s b-o-ring.”

“Opal. .” Harry whined. That was when Opal’s little round face suddenly change and her lips perked up into a mischievous smile, as if she’d had an eureka moment. But Harry had already read her swirling mind; “We’re not going outside, Baby.”

Opal answered with puppy eyes and her blonde eyebrows raised. She crawled up onto her Dad’s lap like a cat and took the material of his t-shirt into his tiny fists. Harry twirled one of her bunches in his finger with his mouth drew in an unimpressed line.

“Darling, you could get ill; it’s very cold and soggy out there.”

“But!—But, I’ll wear a coat and a hat!” Her little voice pleaded with excitement. “I want to jump in the puddles, Papa! Like Peppa!”

The two shared a look between each other, Harry’s left eye twitching as he fought against his little girl’s pleading.

“Oh alright,” Harry eventually gave in, earning a squeal and a choking-hug around his neck from Opal, “But you must wear your boots and hat, Opie. We don’t want you getting another nasty cold!”

Ten minutes and a few spoonfuls of yoghurt later, Opal was stood in the hallway like a little human marshmallow. Harry had bundled her up in leggings and a thick jumper with her raincoat zipped-up to her chin and her knitted beanie slumped over her brows. The hood of her mustard-coloured raincoat was thrown over her hat which only showed her pale, little face. She had purple gloves coating her hands and Peppa Pig wellies on her feet.

Opal stomped around in circles a few times, testing out her new boots as she waited for Harry to put on his coat.

“It’s raining a lot out there, Opie.” Harry warned lightly as he slung on his own raincoat and threw the hood over his head.

“But puddles are fun!” Opal jumped, waving her short arms in the air. “‘S fine because I have my raincoat on, so I won’t get wet.”

Harry knew she and him were going to get soaked but Opal seemed too eager to go out in the rain for him to say no. With reluctance, Harry turned the key, unlocked the latch and opened the front door.

They were met with the overstimulating noise of rain pelting down onto the ground and Opal stepped back a little.

“You sure, Opal?. .”

The 5 year-old seemed to pause and think for a moment before she looked up at her Dad and nodded. “Hold me, please.”

Harry picked his little angel up and held her tightly in his arms as they stepped out, the front door shutting behind them.

“Puddles! Dad I see a puddle!” Harry followed Opal’s glove-covered finger to the (giant) puddle that had accumulated at the side of the pavement curb. He placed her down and Opal ran down the short path and opened the garden gate.

Harry lurched forward with his arm stretched out to grab her just in time when she nearly got knocked over by a postman jogging past with his red, saturated satchel bouncing on his hip.

“Sorry, mate!” The postman called back.

Opal did not hesitate to bend her knees and jump into the brown puddle of water, instantly soaking her pink leggings. She squealed and stomped in the puddle.

“I’m all wet now!”

“You sure are!” Harry called, eventually exiting the small front-garden and stood at the curb. A bath is definitely going to be needed before bedtime is what he decided.

“Daddy it’s your turn!” Opal grinned up at her Dad.

“N-No, Daddy doesn’t want to get wet, Baby.” He grimaced at the dark patches of water soaking into the material of her leggings. Harry reminded himself that he was getting soaked by the rain anyway stood into the middle of the pavement; he may as well join in with his little girl.

He told Opal to move over slightly and his feet splashed into the middle with an impressive jump and filthy water spurted everywhere; some drops landed on Opal’s face and she whined.

She reached her hand up to her face to wipe the water, forgetting that her gloves were soaked and made her face even more damp. “Dad. . .”

Her face crumpled and she let out a cry.

“Hey.. There’s no need for tears, Love.” Harry cooed, stepping out of the puddle. He paused, unsure how to comfort her; he couldn’t exactly hug her or stroke her hair. Instead, he rubbed her small back and bent down to Opal’s level. “It’s not very nice out here, is it?”

The rain hadn’t stopped pelting down from the sky and Opal’s lips began to quiver with the cold. Harry couldn’t bare the thought of her getting cold or sick because of him, so he led them back inside. Opal stripped-off in the hallway, her clothes in a soggy pile at the door, and Harry wrapped her up in a towel that was drying on the radiator.

“Are you ready to watch a film now, Darling?” He whispered softly. He dabbed Opal’s face and hair dry as she nodded with a pout on her face. “I think it’s better to go jump in puddles after the rain stops. Shall we do that next time?”

Opal nodded again but cracked a small smile this time.

Harry put some potato waffles in the oven and heated up a pan of baked beans for Opal’s dinner. He brought it in on a tray and as he sat down next to her little body on the sofa, a sudden sneeze shook her frame.

“Achoo!”

They both looked at each other; Opal glanced innocently up at her Dad, waiting to be offered a spoon of beans. Harry covered up his expression of worry mixed with a grimace with a kind smile. Perhaps the small trip out into the rain was a silly idea; neither of them had enjoyed the 30 seconds of storm exposure. But they both learned a lesson and now know that puddles after the rain passes, is a lot more fun.

⭐️