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ifancyharry · 6 months

Text

Ever since New York

what it is: in which YN is Harry Styles's personal assistant, but maybe she should quit her job?

September.

Harry was running late. He knew he was running late because he didn’t even have the time to check on his phone how much late he was running. He hated being late. It wasn’t really in his character. In his manners. It’s not because he didn’t like people waiting on him, he loves being the center of attention; he loves having all eyes on him when he enters a room.

He just didn’t like being late because of the wasted time. Wasted time he took off work. And as of right now, work was pretty much his life. His purpose.

So being late, was kind of a big deal to him.

Y/N, on the other hand, was used to being late. And she, too, hated it. She hated the attention it came with it. But it was just in her nature, not because she wanted it, but because it happened to her. Like this morning. Her go-to local Starbucks was swamped with people, and she really wanted a pumpkin spice latte, since it was almost the beginning of fall and she still hadn’t had one.

So, it’s not like she could skip the coffee run. But said coffee run took longer than expected and made her late to her job interview. On top of that, once she exited the cafe, winning cup of coffee slightly burning her hand, it started raining, and of course she hadn’t bought her umbrella, because who brings an umbrella to a job interview?, and plus she really couldn’t be bothered to carry the weight of said object with her all around New York.

So, when she enters the Madison Square Garden Arena, she’s soaked. She almost can hear the squishy sound her Converse make as she walks, her socks feeling rather scratchy against her skin.

She jogs a little towards the backstage area, trying to recall what was said on the email that was sent to her with all the interview details. She’s breathing heavily through her nose, not really used to all the running she had to endure, and she feels hot. She’s positive the heater is on and the sudden contrast with the chilly September air makes her coat feel too warm and her jeans too tight.

She takes a moment to stop herself, trying to calm her heart and breathing down as she takes small sips of her drink. She’s already late, soaked, and sweaty, she might as well enjoy her well awaited drink in peace. She’s sure she’s not going to get the job, anyway. Leave it to her to think she’d fail before even trying.

Harry Styles personal assistant? Yes, she’s known to be a dreamer, but not to that extent. When her friend Anna had told her that her boyfriend had a friend that went to college with Jeff Azoff (she didn’t even know that said Jeff went to college), that he was looking for trustworthy people who could be fit for the job and that he had recommended YN, she thought Anna was pulling a sad excuse of a prank on her. Little did she know, about ten days later, she’d gotten an email from Jeff himself where he asked her if she was down for a little get-to-know-me interview.

Anna knew how much YN needed the job.Young, jobless, and living in New York didn’t really go together too well, and she knew that YN wanted to save as much money as possible to fulfill her life’s dream of studying art in Florence, so she pressured her friend to at least go to the interview. So that’s how she got herself in this situation, sipping her coffee while she regained her breath.

She’s so lost in her own train of thoughts that she doesn’t even realize she stopped in the middle of a hallway. She’s reading a flyer on the wall absentmindedly when she’s hit by a big, sturdy object that makes her loose her balance. She tries to grip her hands onto something to gain some kind of balance, but that only results in her coffee exploding from its own paper cup that she squeezed too hard, the cap flying off and falling on the ground.

“Fuck!” She exclaims as her bum hits the floor with a loud thump. She can feel the coffee on her coat and all over her hands as she raises her eyes from her pumpkin scented, soaked coat and lays her sight on what she thought was an object, but was, actually, a person. Her employer, more like. If she wasn’t convinced enough that she wasn’t going to get the job, she’s sure as hell now.

“What the fuck!” Harry, who had been running really fast to try and get on time to this stupid interview he had to endure, really hadn’t taken in consideration that someone could be standing in the middle of the hallway he was running down on.

So, he really thought it was safe to run and check his phone at the same time; big mistake.

It’s not like he was checking his phone for his own personal business, he was just texting Jeff that he was on his way.

“Who stands in the middle of a fucking hallway!” He shouts, but he isn’t even looking at her as he speaks. He’s looking at his shirt, that now has a big, beige colored, stain on it.

He grips the hem of the shirt with his hands and brings the stained part to his nose, which he scrunches immediately in disgust: “is this regular milk? God, it’s making me sick”.

YN really couldn’t get anything out of her mouth as she slowly gets up from her position on the floor and raises to her feet. She knows she’s supposed to say something, maybe apologize, but it suddenly feels like she doesn’t know how to talk anymore. She’s afraid, if she speaks, she’d blabber something incoherent and make a fool out of herself. Not that she didn’t already.

Plus, if she’s really being honest, he kind of sounds like an asshole, so she’s not particularly keen on begging for his forgiveness.

“If you were walking like a normal person, this wouldn’t have happened!” She murmurs, but he’s already too far out of reach to hear, otherwise she’s sure he would’ve said something else. She heavily sighs as she walks behind him, careful to leave a big amount of space between them so it doesn’t look like she’s following him.

When she enters the room, after knocking gently on the door, he’s already sat on the chair next to Jeff, a bunch of papers scattered on the desk in front of them.

She clears her throat a little and Jeff raises his eyes to her, giving her a small smile and gesturing to the chair in front of them.

Harry, arm bent at the elbow, one hand under the table and the other holding his phone, doesn’t bother to look at who came in until he’s finished reading his emails. He wouldn’t have to read his emails if he hadn’t wasted his time by being late, and mostly by being tackled by a wet puppy looking girl and her stupid pumpkin spice latte. The said pumpkin spice latte that is all over his designer shirt.

When he finally raises his glance, he’s met with a pair of big, wide eyes that remind him of those of a scared deer caught in headlights, and there’s no hint of a joke in his tone as he says: “fuck no.”

...

YN wonders whether she should quit.

It’s not her fault, really, and it’s not like she isn’t trying. She thinks she’s doing a fairly good job.

She’s trying really hard to make up for the coffee incident, and she begged Harry to tell her where he got his shirt so she could at least repurchase it for him, but once he’d told her it was Gucci, she realized it cost more than her rent so she let it go… trying the best she could to watch where she was going as to not repeat the accident again.

Harry is… well, he’s kind of difficult to work with.

She doesn’t know whether it’s because of the coffee incident or because he just doesn’t like her, but he’s really stand-offish.

He doesn’t talk much to her — only when the work demands it, and at first it was fine, YN understood why he’d act like that, but now it’s just getting kind of frustrating, especially because he’s making her job ten times harder than it already is.

She’s determined to show him that just because they started off on the wrong foot, she’s not just some clumsy little girl that had to have friends in the right places to get a job!

“Harry?” She trails off, peeking her head inside his dressing room.

He’s sitting on the couch, his back bent down and his hands fiddling with his shoe laces.

YN notices he’s dressed in his workout clothes (a pair of Nike shorts and a black tee), and she wonders whether he’s going to the gym? Maybe back at the hotel? It would be rather bothersome to go all the way back but she doesn’t say anything since it’s not her place.

When he hears her he raises his head to look at her, his brows hiking up high on his forehead. YN wonders why he’s even surprised to see her… she’s been on his ass for a month straight now, never really leaving his side unless when necessary.

“Hey” he greets her, nodding his head towards her.

“I finished everything you asked me t’do” she smiles, and if she wasn’t sure he’d find a way to piss her off, she would’ve felt at least somewhat triumphant. But she doesn’t.

Because she knows Harry doesn’t like her, so no matter what she does, it will never be good enough to redeem herself.

“Everything, really?” He asks surprised, “hav’you folded all the merch like I asked?” When YN nods he goes on, “ironed my outfit?” She nods once again, “and ‘s my schedule ready for tomorrow?”

“Yes.” She nods swiftly, “I even color coded it” she grins.

He seems to think a bit about his next words, and then, “okay, then. Help me work out, will ya?” he says, refraining himself from smiling a mischievous smile at the sound of her groan.

He’s sure it wasn’t intentional, and she feels extremely embarrassed and hopes he hasn’t noticed or at least won’t call her out on it.

“Let’s go, YN, I don’t have all day” he chuckles darkly, patting her on the cheek as he walks past her.

YN knows she should definitely quit.

...

“What the hell is this! I thought ye said it was all done?”

YN really feels like she could cry. She’s 22 years old and she’s on the verge of crying on her job. A job she begged God to get, a job that’s fundamental to get her in the art school she’s always dreamed of.

Things haven’t been easy.

Harry has been a dick to her every day and there’s only so much one can take.

He’s mean, rude, and always cold. He never smiles even when she brings him coffee (black with no dairy milk because it nauseates him), he never praises her (not even when she color codes his google calendar), and every time she enters a room he hushes as if he’s telling this great secret she’s not supposed to hear.

Today has been a long day.

She’d woken up at 5 am to grab him breakfast (not that he demanded it, but she felt as if she needed to in order for them to start the day on a good note — it hasn’t worked, it seems) and after that, she’d watched him workout at the gym in the hotel, the stuffy room nauseating her to the point where she had to beg him to turn the AC on to let the air change.

After his workout, she’d made her way to the venue.

He’s playing at Madison Square Garden tonight, and even if it’s not his first time, the tension could be felt in the air and in the way he huffed and puffed at everything she did.

It’s her job to take care of the merch stand inside the arena, no matter what city they are in, she has to fold the merch and make the stand presentable and organized, so when the staff comes in before the show everything is neat and clean.

She’s been doing this for a month now so she knows what Harry likes and how he demands it to be cleaned, and until now nothing about her work had disappointed him. So why is he acting like she’s this major screw up that can’t fold clothes?

It’s not the fact that he’s doubting her that hurts her, it’s the fact that he’s doubting her honesty.

It was all finished. She had folded all the merch like he asked and the stand was in perfectly good tidiness when she left it; sadly, that’s not how Harry had found it, much later and much closer to the show.

Maybe his pre show jitters made him a little more on edge, because the way he’s stomping his feet and pointing at the merch is making her feel really guilty for not doing her job correctly. Even if it wasn’t her fault, she should’ve checked before telling him she was all done!

“Harry,” she trails off, and she feels pathetic as she hears her voice come out all watery, “I swear, i did like you asked. Why would I lie!”

She’s almost begging and pleading him, her eyes stinging with the devious tears she’s trying really hard not to let fall.

“I don’t know why. But why is the stand in this mess? You know this can’t happen before a show, YN!” He reprimands her sternly.

YN feels like she’s a bad student getting yelled at by her teacher, and she gulps before saying “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it now! Tidy here and then sod off!”

She nods her head quickly and hurries to get back behind the stand, folding the clothes as fast as she can to fix the mess quickly. She hears him walk away with a grunt, and once he’s out of her line of sight she feels the warm tears start falling from her eyes.

Finally.

She chokes down a sob as she keeps tidying up, wondering what the hell happened to the very organized stand she’d left.

Once she’s done, she double checks everything to make sure (just in case) and then she climbs over the counter to get out. She quickly makes her way to the dressing room as she hears the buzzing of the fans standing outside the venue, waiting trepidating for the gates to open, and she’s thankful she’d been fast, otherwise Harry would’ve fired her on the spot.

She gathers her work bag and tosses all her belongings inside, sneaking out of the door when she realizes Harry is inside the bathroom showering.

She doesn’t bother to call a Uber. She chooses to walk, hoping that the fresh air could soothe the headache that crying had left her with.

It’s a little bit chilly, but she welcomes the cold October weather with contentment, finally free of the heat weave that had populated her summer days. She wishes she could enjoy it more, and if it wasn’t for her mood, maybe she would’ve grabbed a little drink and a sweet treat on her way back. But there wasn’t anything sweet about the way Harry had treated her, so she walks sulkily back to the hotel, ready to pack her bags and leave. She’s decided. She doesn’t want to be his assistant for not even another day.

It had been a long day.

…

it’s past 11pm when Harry crosses the threshold of his hotel room, immediately tossing his sweaty clothes on the chair next to the small desk. His room is nice, big but not uncomfortably large to the point of making him feel lonely, and his bed is soft just the way he likes it, and he can’t wait to shower and get under the covers, but… there’s something he needs to do first.

So, he quickly showers and changes into way more comfortable clothes, a pair of black sweats and a grey treat people with kindness hoodie, slipping his vans on and walking immediately out of the door.

He’d like to say the uneasiness he feels in his belly is hunger (he had only soup for dinner), but it’s definitely not. He’s nervous. And he feels like a dick. And he doesn’t really know what to say to YN to make it up to her.

Should he say he was just tense because of the show? In his mind he knows that wouldn’t be too believable, because he’s been doing shows for most of his life, and if he acted the way he did before any of them, he probably wouldn’t have many friends.

As he’s searching for things to say, he hasn’t even realized he ended up in front of her door, the light beige wood dooming on him and almost making fun of him.

He closes his hand into a fist and knocks on the door, the pit of his stomach prickling.

YN opens the door almost immediately, and he wonders whether she was waiting for him.

He knows she wasn’t as soon as he sees her face fall once her eyes land on him.

She actually looks pretty cute, all snuggly and sleepy dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and sleep shorts, but when she looks up at him he notices her eyes are a faint red color, and his heart tugs in his chest when he realizes she had been crying.

It was never his intention to make her cry, and he really does feel bad.

“What?” She asks dismissively, her body still shielding the room from his view.

“Know ‘s late but… Can I come in?” He asks wryly, his breath coming out in puffs out of his nose as if he had been running.

“I don’t know” she ponders.

“Please, YN”

She takes a moment to reflect and then opens her door wider (he’s technically still her boss), turning to the side to let him in.

She closes the door behind him and waits for him to talk with her arms crossed against her chest. He doesn’t really know where to start, whether he should address the fact that she’s been crying or how he treated her, so he settles on “how are you?” And he feels stupid as soon as the words leave his mouth. She sniffles before shrugging.

“Sorry, that was stupid” he pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head.

YN doesn’t know what happens next.

She’s probably just tired, and maybe really hurt by how Harry treated her so she… she starts crying.

She feels her eyes fill with tears, stinging her water line. And it’s really embarrassing but she really doesn’t care. She figures he’s going to fire her anyway so she might as well let it all out.

She chokes down a sob, turning her head to the side to be as subtle as possible, but he notices straight away, walking quickly towards her.

“YN please don’t cry” he pleas, stretching a hand out to her to squeeze her shoulder.

“I’m sorry” she sobs, hiding her face and her tears behind her hands, pressing the tip of her fingers to her eyelids.

Harry really doesn’t know what to do. He thinks of himself as a good person and a good friend but this is different. He’s supposed to be her boss. But, he realizes, he’s also the reason she’s crying, and Harry is everything but cruel, so he tugs her by the shoulder into his chest, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, his hand caressing her back soothingly.

She sobs into his chest, and “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened with that stand. I did everything like you asked”.

“It’s okay, it’s okay” he comforts.

To really tell the truth, Harry had forgotten all about the clothes. Yes, he had been pissed about the conditions he found the merch stand in, but she had tided up quickly, so in his mind everything was forgiven. He hadn’t really realized how stern he had come off to her.

“YN I’m not mad about the merch stand. I’m so sorry I was so rude”

“No,” she’s quick to object, “I get it, you want everything to be perfect. Trust me I know! But I’m trying my best to make everything perfect like you want” she sniffles, pulling her face away from his chest.

She dries her face with the sleeves of her sweatshirt, sighing heavily.

“You’re doing a great—“ he starts, but she interrupts him immediately, “I don’t know how to work with you if you’re like this. You’re probably going to fire me for saying this but I can’t stand this anymore” she shakes her head to reinforce her words.

“Please don’t say that! I don’t want to fire you! I think you’re doin’ a really good job”

“Really?” She asks surprised, he’s never really told her that.

“Yes, of course! I’m so sorry I’ve been a dick to you, for this past month. I… I’ve got some trust issues, ya know? and It takes me a while to get accustomed to new people but… I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. It’s not your fault”

“I thought you kind of hated me” she admits.

“I could never,” he shakes his head, “I’m so sorry I made you feel that way”

“Yeah” she sniffles, “you really were a dick” she chuckles once she sees the surprised look on his face. “Plus I’m the only one who knows how to make your little soup” she adds.

“Oh, you’re right” he agrees, “I could never fire you, then. You’re trapped”

“Ah! You’re trapped” she giggles, the tears starting to dry on her face and a bit of color returning to her cheeks.

“But… really, I’m so sorry. I promise it won’t happen again” he says again, looking directly in her eyes to make sure she understands he’s serious.

“Okay” she says softy, sniffling.

“Now” he trails off, “I’m really hungry. Should we go get something to eat?”

October

“Halloween is not fun.” Harry says, crossing his arms on his chest like a petulant child.

YN rolls her eyes for what seems like the millionth time, a groan escaping from her parted lips: “but it is!!” She says again.

The discussion had been opened by Harry himself, claiming he didn’t understand all the excitement YN had claimed to be feeling about Halloween.

It’s not like he doesn’t like Halloween, he just doesn’t like… scary stuff.

He hates horror movies and he hates everything paranormal — sure, he loves Twilight (he’s watched it twice already since fall started) but that movie according to him is on a whole other level, and it can’t be described as scary as much as it is angst-y.

So, when he heard YN all giddy and giggly about this god awful day, he couldn’t just not say what he really thinks of it. Of course she’d love Halloween, Harry thinks.

“I think you just never truly had the whole Halloween experience” she shrugs from her position on the couch.

“Trust me,” he says seriously, “I did. Jeff forced me to watch all the Saw movies… it was awful. Couldn’t sleep properly until Christmas”

YN has to refrain herself from laughing.

“That’s not what I mean! Watching scary movies is like… the last thing on the list of fun things to do for Halloween”

“Yeah?” He challenges, turning around in his turning chair to face her, his skin dewy with the moisturizer he’d been massaging on his face.

“Yes! My favorite is pumpkin painting” she beams excitedly.

“Pumpkin painting? You have to have made that up” he furrows his brows.

“What! No! It’s been a thing for… Ugh I don’t know but it’s really fun and I always do it. Come see!” She pats the couch next to her and grabs her phone from the pocket of her hoodie, opening her camera roll and scrolling with her finger until she reaches last year.

He rolls his eyes at her, getting up from the chair nonetheless.

He doesn’t sit next to her, instead he towers over her and lowers his head to look at the screen of her phone, his shin touching her knees “ye have a lot of pictures on that damn phone”.

“Shh!! Here!” She opens the pic and shows it to him: a big pumpkin rests on what seems like a kitchen counter, its previous orange skin painted the brightest shade of pink, with some white splotches of paint that Harry thinks could be little ghosts by their pair of eyes made with two black dots.

“Wow… that clearly is something…”

“okay! — she sighs, locking her phone — I didn’t say I was good at it. ‘S just fun an’ I always do it with me mum!” She lifts her head and their eyes lock, his are a bright emerald green today, and she can see herself reflected in them, clearly, and she wonders for a moment how he sees her, what he thinks of her. It lasts only a moment, though, because he averts his gaze quickly, and just as quickly he straightens his posture, towering over her once again.

“‘S a cute idea” he agrees, taking a step back to put some distance between them.

YN nods in agreement, picking up her laptop to get back to work immediately.

Everything is green.

…

Harry is hiding something.

He’s been giddy all day and YN noticed first thing in the morning, when she happened to toe his shoe off when he was walking in front of her and he didn’t say anything (it’s the only thing that drives him mad. Like… really mad. He once snapped at her in front of everyone because she kept doing it — accidentally of course). Now, this is not to say Harry can’t have a good day. Since that night in her hotel room, things have been really good between them, and even if their relationship is strictly professional, YN wonders whether a friendship could blossom between them.

But, she’s also gotten to know him rather well in the two months she’s been working for him, and she knows when he’s hiding something.

It all started yesterday, when he pretended he had to run some errands alone, and demanded YN stayed at the hotel “to check no one broke into his room” which is a really fucking stupid excuse. When he got back to his room it was late in the night and YN was snacking on some chips, all snuggled up and cozy in his bed, on the verge of falling asleep.

Nothing seemed different about him since the last time she saw him, and she wondered for a brief minute whether he went out to meet with someone. Having a personal assistant be with you 24/7 can be really invalidating to any romantic relationship someone could want to establish.

If the only way harry could get a significant other (or even only a sneaky link, YN isn’t one to judge) was to hide from her and demanded her to stay back, it was really pathetic on her part. She pretends like the thought of Harry with someone else doesn’t irritates her. (She’s been stuck all evening in his hotel room while he went out and about!!)

“Whatcha doin’ in my bed, pet?” He teases once he enters the room, toeing his shoes off and leaving them by the door.

“Your bed is way comfier than mine” she grins, squeezing the comforter closer to her body.

“I bet” he chuckles.

“Yeah. But I’m the one working all day so I should get the comfier bed” she shrugs.

“You’re working?” He says, feigning shock as he brings a hand to his chest, “I thought you were my friend willingly!”

“Oh fuck” she sighs, “Jeff told me not to tell you… I must have forgotten”

“You really are a menace” he chuckles and she giggles, making room for him as he plops down next to her.

“What are ye watchin’?”

“Just an old episode of How to get away with murder” she says, pressing the “ok” button on the remote to show him the title.

“Never heard of tha’” he furrows his brows, repositioning himself so his legs are stretched out in front of him.

“You’ve never… what?! That’s crazy! This is probably the best tv show since Grey’s Anatomy went down hill!”

“Is it scary?” He asks, his brows furrowing on his forehead.

“No, not in that sense at least”

“Okay, then.” He gestures to the remote, “let’s watch it.”

She grins at him and nods, selecting the first episode from the menu. She presses play and when the show starts running, she grabs the chips she was previously nibbling on, putting them between their bodies and telling him that if he wants some to just take them.

The light from the tv illuminates the otherwise dark room, and YN has to refrain herself from turning her head to look at his profile.

She smiles Every time he gasps when something unexpected happens, and when the first episode ends, he begs her to put the second straight away. She does, and she listens to his calm breaths that almost lull her to sleep. The bed is comfortable and his warmth from beside her makes her feel safe and soft, and YN thinks it’s really nice he’s doing this with her. She doesn’t stop to wonder what it means.

…

It’s only the next day that YN gets to finally find out what Harry has been hiding.

Turns out, he actually wasn’t sneaking out to meet someone behind her back!

That morning Harry had knocked loudly on her door, tantalizingly sing-songing her name. When she had opened the door, still wearing her pjs and her hair all messy, she had furrowed her brows deeply on her forehead: “Harry!” She had reprimanded him, “it’s 7 in the morning!”

“Shh, lemme come in” he begged, jumping on his place excitedly.

He’s wearing his workout clothes and YN knows from his schedule that he has an appointment with his personal trainer at 7.30.

“What’s wrong?”

“Tonight, after the show, don’t make any plans. I need you for something very serious and very important.”

And YN would really like to tell him that it’s not like she’d ever make any plans that didn’t revolve around him, but she nods nonetheless, still a bit startled from his irruption in her room that early in the morning.

That’s how they ended up here, on the floor of his hotel room, probably more than thirty tubes of paint splattered messily in front of them, and two giant pumpkins resting between their legs.

“It’s officially a week before Halloween!” Harry had said, taking the pumpkin out of the bag and showing it to her triumphantly.

YN had gasped, her hands coming up to cover her mouth shockingly. Never in a million years would she have thought that was what he planned to do.

She feels warm inside, like a light has been switched up and is warming all her limbs, her chest, her belly. She doesn’t know if he realizes how much this means to her.

She carefully takes the pumpkin he’s handing to her and sits cross legged on the floor. He sits down next to her, and their knees are brushing with every movement one of them makes.

“Pass me the remote, please?” He asks.

She nods and grabs it from the bed behind her, handing it to him.

“I really need to find out who killed her” he says seriously, turning the tv on. “Is it Sam?”

YN chuckles sitting next to him, shaking her head as she bends her back down to grab a paint brush.

“I’m not tellin’ you! That takes away all the fun”

“I don’t care, YN. I won’t be able to sleep if you don’t tell me!”

“You’re so dramatic” she giggles.

She hands him a brush too and he thanks her with a mischievous grin, “if I end up dying from exhaustion it’s on you!”

“Shhh, ‘s startin’” she gestures to the tv and they both turn their head to it.

YN grabs a tube of red paint and opens it, squirting a small pump on the plate Harry had gotten her.

“What are ya making?” He asks her after a while.

“I don’t know” she shrugs, “I was thinking something simple like… red hearts”

“Tha’s cute” he agrees, “should I make it How to get away with murder themed?”

YN starts giggling, pushing his shoulder with hers, “that would be cute I guess”

“I’m just kidding. Although I think I could totally rock that”

“Yeah, you would” she agrees.

Harry ends up making it Mickey Mouse themed, drawing two big red ears a pair of big black eyes. He even helps YN with hers (she settled on something more minimalistic) which is ironic because even though she’s the one that loves art, she’s not really good at it.

Harry even snapped a few pictures to send to his mum, one with YN too, “wait, stay right there. Show the pumpkins!!”

“Harry the paint is still fresh I can’t — ugh fine!” She says lifting her pumpkin by the stem.

He leans in next to her, their temples almost touching, and Harry snaps the picture, a warm smile on his face, dimples showing and all. “Mum’s gonna love this.”

They watch a couple more episodes of this tv show Harry has gotten obsessed with, and once the clock strikes midnight YN is so exhausted Harry has to finish her pumpkin for her.

Her eyes are aching and she brings her fingers to press on them, hoping to relieve some of the burning.

“Everything all right?” He asks turning his head to look at her.

“Yes” she nods, “just forgot my glasses and the tv is hurting my eyes”

“Wait” he tells her, standing up on his feet quickly. He heads over to his bedside table and opens the drawer, rummaging through all the stuff he keeps inside it.

He sits back down after a minute, closer than he was before, and he shows her a pair of glasses, “here”.

She looks at him surprised, and “thank you” she says, grabbing them from his hand and sliding them on.

The glasses are comfortable, with a kind of thick frame, and she understands immediately they are a much better quality than hers.

She’s surprised she can see clearly with them, and she enjoys the much needed rest the glasses provide. She leans her head on the back of the bed behind her and sighs contentedly.

“Better?” He asks.

“Much better.”

“I didn’t know you wore glasses” he says after a while, his gaze still on the tv, “never seen you wear ‘em”

“Yeah” she agrees, embarrassed, “‘s just… don’t really like the way I look in them. Plus it’s not like I’m completely blind!” She hurries to add “they just get really tired and… yeah”

He turns his head to look at her, his brows furrowed on his forehead and his eyes scrutinizing her face.

She feels embarrassed under his gaze and she squirms imperceptibly in her spot.

“You look proper cute, actually” he says with a swift nod as to reinforce his words.

She blushes and prays that he doesn’t notice, mumbling a ‘thank you’ and quickly averting her gaze back to the tv.

She feels once again that warm feeling inside her, but this time it’s all over her body and it’s kind of overwhelming.

She debates whether she should leave or stay, but Harry’s presence is so comforting beside her, and it’s not like his comment has to mean anything.

It’s just a compliment.

Like a friend would to another. Right?

…

It’s not easy to avoid your boss.

Harry is everywhere, and it’s not like YN wants to avoid him, it’s just inevitable since she realized she actually has a crush on him.

On the span of these three days YN tried to tell herself it wasn’t that big of a deal; Harry is handsome, he almost resembles an angel, and he’s funny, and since he’s warmed up to her she realized he’s also nice, and caring, and soft. His smile is bright as the sun. His eyes are a peculiar shade of green she has never seen before and she noticed some nights they turn almost blue and she really would like to ask him why but she figures that’s way overstepping her boundary so she just keeps quiet every time she notices it.

And he’s many things all together.

And maybe if she avoids him this feeling will go away and everything will go back to normal sooner than later.

On the fourth day, he catches her on her way back to his dressing room and she almost has an heart attack. She had been so careful up to that point!!!

She was sure he was still in the shower, and she needed to grab her sweatshirt from the dressing room since it was starting to get chilly, but once she opened the door, there he was, sitting on the couch in only a towel and a sweatshirt. Her sweatshirt. She feels like she could combust any second.

“YN! Hey!” He cheerfully greets her once he notices her, locking his phone and leaving it next to him on the couch.

“Hi, H” she replies “just needed to grab my… sweatshirt” she clears her throat embarrassed, pointing towards his torso.

He looks down to himself and then his eyes widen in surprise, “this one’s yours? I’m so sorry pet, thought ‘t was mine!”

“Tha’s fine” she shrugs, trying not to dwell too much on the fact that he called her a pet name.

“You wan’ it back?” He asks, grinning.

“No, no that’s fine, I’ll find something else” but before she can even answer he’s already getting up, slipping out of the sweatshirt. He walks towards her and hands it to her, “hav’to get ready soon anyway”.

She nods and as he walks to his clothing rack where his outfit is already displayed, and YN lets her eyes linger for a brief moment on his back, his skin is already moisturized and YN wonders if it feels as soft as it looks, his little moles and freckles look like little constellations on the skin of his back, like the Gods blew stars onto it when they created him, and the color of his skin is almost lunar-like, despite how much sun he gets.

“Feel like I haven’t seen ya in ages” he interrupts the silence after a while, and YN watches as he picks up his tank top from one of the hangers and slips it onto his head.

She nods when he turns to her, the tank top is white and she can see the faint ink of his tattoos, “had so much work to do” she sighs.

“Are you sayin’ I’m overworking you?” He chuckles, and she’s quick to say: “no! No! Just… you know with Harryween coming up there’s so much stuff to do”

“Yeah” he agrees, “maybe tonight we can watch a couple of episodes…?” He questions tentatively.

YN would really like to say yes. She really would.

“I’m really tired, Harry…” she trails off, “maybe another night?”

“Yeah of course” he shrugs.

He leans down to slip on his leather trousers, tossing the towel on the couch next to him.

“But you can obviously go on though!! I already know what happened and…”

“What? No! I don’t want to watch it without you, that’s our thing.” He says, shaking his head and furrowing his brows, “‘s okay, I can wait a couple days. Even though I hav’to tell ya… i think I may be in withdrawal… i have been tempted to look up spoilers online”

She giggles at his playfulness, “Harry! I told you not to do that!”

“That’s why I didn’t! But eventually I have to know, I have a couple of ideas on who did it though”

“I’m not saying anything”

“Fine” he groans jokingly, “but you have to admit I deserve an award for putting up with all your torture”

“You’re so dramatic!” She laughs through her teeth.

“Yeah, yeah. Actually!” He starts, and he smiles a malicious smile YN is afraid to know what it means, “everything would be forgiven if you came shopping with me tomorrow”

“Harry! I have so much stuff to do! I can’t just ditch everything to go shopping with you”

“Please!!” He pleas almost like a petulant child, “I don’t want to go alone! ’s boring!”

“Jeff gave me so much stuff… you know how he gets when I don’t get things done” she sighs. She’s still holding the sweatshirt he gave (back) to her, and she squeezes it against her chest.

“Screw Jeff” Harry shrugs, passing a hand through his hair to comb it.

“He’s literally my boss”

“No” he’s quick to say, walking towards her and stopping when he’s in front of her, crossing his arms on his chest “Jeff is your employer. I’m your boss” he chuckles darkly, poking her in the stomach playfully.

“Uggh fine! I’ll come” she sighs, finally giving in to his demand. “But you’re buyin’ me coffee tomorrow”

“Deal” he nods his head swiftly.

She rolls her eyes and gives him a little shove on the shoulder, “see ya after the show! Good luck”

“Thank you pet” he says smiling at her softly.

She gives a small smile back and turns to walk out the door.

Once she’s out, the cold air of the AC hits her, and she’s quick to slip over her head the sweatshirt she actually came to get in the first place.

It’s still warm and his sweet musky scent lingers on it. She buries her nose into it and walks to find Jeff, telling him the new plans for the next day.

…

“I need you to do my makeup”

It’s the 31st of October, just a couple of hours before Harryween, and Harry still isn’t dressed in his Dorothy costume.

His makeup artist had texted him that she wouldn’t be available to work on Halloween (she has young children and couldn’t miss a chance to spend the holiday with them!), but Harry was so busy he hadn’t paid too much mind to it. He knew if it got to the point where no one else was available, he could do it himself. It’s just makeup, it’s not supposed to be hard.

Well, turns out, it is hard.

So, YN was really his last hope.

That’s why he knocked loudly on her hotel door, impatiently waiting for her to open it.

He heard her groan and then the sound of feet walking quickly towards him.

“What!” She says before even checking who it was.

“I need you to do my makeup”.

That’s how they ended up in her room, both sitting cross legged on her floor with a bunch of makeup bags opened next to them.

She would really like to be fussy and pouty about it, because not only he has her working on Halloween (she didn’t specifically ask for the day off, but she figured it wasn’t necessary for her to be at the entire show and he could’ve maybe let her off a little earlier, but, no — he had demanded she stayed through the entirety of the show) plus now she’s going to be late and she probably won’t have time to do her own makeup like she wanted specially for her costume!!

but… how can she possibly complain when he’s sitting in front of her like an obedient puppy, looking at her with curious green eyes every time she takes a product out of her bag?

This little crush she has on him is starting to get out of control! Instead of being annoyed at him she’s referring to him as a cute puppy! what is wrong with her!

“Wha’s that for?” He asks, pointing to the little tube of moisturizer she takes out.

“Moisturizer. This one’s lighter than the one you use because I have oily skin, but I reckon it could work as well” she pops the cap open and squirts a small amount on the tip of her fingers.

She warms it between her hands before looking at him questioning, silently asking for his permission to touch his face.

He nods immediately once he understands, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Hold your hair for me please”

He brings a hand to his forehead and tucks away the curls that fell onto it.

YN feels her heart beat hard against her chest as she gets closer to smear the cream onto his face, massaging his cheekbones and his sinuses to ease the product into his skin.

Harry sighs once she starts massaging his temples, and he makes sure to thank God in his head for his makeup artist and her children, because YN is really gentle.

She has really soft fingers and her touch is delicate, and he thinks she touches him like something fragile that is worth preserving. And he likes the feeling a little too much.

“All done!” She beams, removing her hands from his face (she even dragged the cream onto his neck!).

“Now I think we should do eyebrows” she takes out a small black spoolie and she starts brushing through his brows, “I don’t think yours need much filling.” She ponders, “maybe just in a couple spots we can make ‘em more thick if you’d like”.

He nods, “I’d like that”.

“Okay!” She grabs her pencil and draws a couple of stray hair.

“Now… I think mascara. And then we’ll do the blush. Close your eyes” she instructs, unscrewing the tube of mascara and removing the excess on the tip. She brings a hand to his eye and presses her thumb to his eyelid, that way she can see his eyelashes better.

She starts coating them with the mascara, first one eye and then the other repeating the same process as well, “your lashes are so long” she whispers, almost to herself, but she hears him chuckle through his nose nonetheless.

“All done!”

He opens his eyes and they flutter a couple of times, the new added weight of the mascara kind of uncomfortable at first.

Once he gets accustomed to it, he looks at her with his piercing bright green eyes.

YN looks between them as she closes the tube mascara; they’re the deepest shade of green today, and the black coating his lashes is only making them stand out more.

“Now?” He asks, and she tries to hide her blush as she tilts her head down to rummage through her bag.

“Blush! I’m thinking lots of blush!”

She takes out a bright cherry blush and “that’s way too red” he protests, furrowing his brows.

She shushes him immediately, “just trust me on this ‘s gonna look so cute!!!”

This time he doesn’t close his eyes, but he chooses to look at her.

The concentrated expression on her face is really cute, her brows are furrowed as she applies the blush with her fingers (she explained she prefers fingers because brushes can irritate the skin and cause break outs and she doesn’t want that).

He feels her apply some on his nose too, and he involuntarily scrunches it. She giggles at it and then keeps blending the blush on his skin.

From this angles YN can see he has freckles on his nose, and she doesn’t know why but it makes her feel warm. He seems more real like this, his nose sensitive and with a constellation of freckles on it. She wonders if they get darker in the sun, and she figures she’ll probably know once the summer arrives.

“Looks proper cute!!!” She sighs dreamily, looking at his face to admire the finished look. “I just know your fans will go crazy” she smiles softly.

He grins at her and gets up on his feet, heading for the bathroom to look at himself.

“Fuck I look good!” She hears him say from the bathroom, “the blush is my favorite part”.

She smiles to herself as she starts tidying her makeup back into the bags, even if it’s pointless really because she has to do her own now.

She gets up from the floor and checks for the time on her phone that’s charging on the bedside table, just as Harry gets out of the bathroom. She still has a hour and a half to get ready, and she thinks she could make it work.

“Thank you again, pet” he smiles down at her and she suddenly feels too hot and breathless.

“It’s okay, no problem at all!”

…

It’s past midnight once YN finally returns to the hotel.

A guy from the crew named Peter (he’s a light technician) invited YN to go out with him and his friends, but she’s so tired she declined politely, promising to make up for it another time.

She doesn’t really know what Harry is doing, and she wonders if Peter invited him as well and if perhaps he declined, but she doesn’t have to wonder much because not even half an hour later she hears a knock on her door.

She’s already wearing her Halloween themed Snoopy pajamas, and if it was any other situation she’d probably feel embarrassed, but she’s so tired she just can’t wait to get to bed.

When she opens the door she sees it’s Harry, and she notices — happily — that he’s wearing his pajamas as well (His consist of a pair of plaid pants and a grey hoodie, but still a pajamas nonetheless), and his face is free of the makeup she’d put on him that same afternoon.

He holds in his hands two full grocery bags, and she looks pointedly at him.

“Can I come in? My arms are starting to get sore”

She nods and moves to the side to let him in, closing the door behind them after.

“So.” He starts, placing the bags on her bed, “I was about to go to bed when I realized it’s still Halloween”

She furrows her brows at him, “I thought that was like the whole point of Harryween?”

He chuckles at her, “of course, I know. That’s what I’m saying exactly.”

“I don’t follow?”

“I had you work on Halloween! You told me before how much you love Halloween and I didn’t think to give you the day off”

“Oh, Harry. It’s okay, really! Don’t worry about that, it’s stupid!” She says, but not without blushing a little.

She knows it’s just decent courtesy to remember conversations one shared with another, but she says a lot of stuff and she didn’t really think he would remember! Plus, he doesn’t really like Halloween, so she thought he’d actually regard her interest in celebrating it as annoying.

“It’s not stupid” he shakes his head, “I thought to remedy as best I could. But I have to confess, Jeff did the grocery shopping so I can’t take credit for it.”

She giggles and walks closer to the bed, peeking her head to look inside the bags, “it’s okay. You were busy”.

He laughs and nods, spilling the bags onto the bed. An undefined amount of sweets fall on the bed, and YN gasps at how many choices of candies and chocolates Jeff picked out.

“Fuck! i think he got every possible candy available” he snorts.

She agrees with a laugh, “what are we supposed to do with all this food?”

“I know it’s not the best but I thought we could watch a movie and eat it? But if you want to go to sleep that’s fine I mean I-“

He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels embarrassed.

What was he thinking? Walking into her room like a maniac with two bags full of candy and expecting her to be down to watch a movie with him. She works for him. This is entirely not appropriate and he’s aware of that, but… when he saw her on the side of the stage, singing mindlessly along to Golden, dressed as Princess Belle he realized how cruel he had been to take Halloween away from her.

Not only had he deemed it as “not fun” right in front of her enthusiasm, he also specifically requested for her to work, and even if she had not expressed formal complaints, she probably should have.

Because he had been a dick.

So, in his quick pee break, instead of freeing his bladder, he texted Jeff if he could do him a big favor and grab every single candy he could get his hands of, recommending specifically to get as many choices to pick from as he could (he didn’t know what YN liked and he couldn’t risk it).

YN quickly interrupts his train of thoughts, “okay!!! But I get to choose the movie though”

“Okay, -- he nods amused -- Deal. But — he says, picking up the remote from the coffee table to hand it to her — Nothing too spooky”

YN gets comfortable on the bed next to Harry, the candies resting at their feet. He has a package of Sour Patch Kids resting on his tummy, and every time YN wants one she has to move her arm, and it brushes against his chest.

She feels… weird. It’s weird to her that he would do something like that, and she doesn’t know what to make of it. If it was any other case, if a guy did something like this for her, she’d immediately thought of it as a date, or a way to show interest in her but with Harry… it’s different.

She doesn’t think he likes her like that.

Maybe he sees her as a friend? She doesn’t think she’s particularly fun, but he always chooses to hang out with her, even after a tiring day…

She gets shaken out of her thoughts once she hears him gasp from next to her.

“Oh God, what happened?” She looks at him pointedly.

“I told you no scary movies!” He whines childishly, closing his lips in a pout.

“Harry! ‘S Caroline! It’s not scary!” She can’t help but giggle at him.

“It’s scary to me” he huffs, taking a candy from the package and popping it into his mouth. He takes another one and shows it to her, which she gladly takes from his fingers.

“I promise if you get past the scary part it’s really good”

“Fine” he nods, “I’ll watch it. But please tell me once it gets scary again”

She smiles fondly at him and nods back, “yes, don’t worry about it.”

...

“You know, you were right… once you see past the scary scenes it’s actually a pretty good-“

It’s after the movie has finished that Harry realizes YN has fallen asleep next to him.

He rolls his lips into his mouth to bite back a smile, grabbing the remote to shut off the tv.

She must be so tired.

He has her working non stop while she should be out and having fun at her age. She isn’t that much younger than him, but he knows how much can change from your early to your late twenties.

He also knows he should get up from the bed and go sleep in his own one, but… he’s really comfortable right now and she’s really warm next to him, and she smells like candies and vanilla, the perfect scent to lull him to sleep.

He’s also very tired, and before he knows it, his eyes are closing shut and his mind is already wondering to faraway countries, with cotton candy skies and chocolatey grass.

The air smells like vanilla, and he doesn’t know if he’s dreaming or if it’s her next to him, he just knows he was definitely wrong; Halloween isn’t as bad as he thought.

it's hereeee and it's halloween themed ;))) (!!!!!) let me know what you think and if you want part 2!!!! taglist: @gem1712 @jerseygirlinca @lexiecamposv @ameerakane20 @lovrave @mema10 @sunshinemoonsposts

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daisyblog · 23 days

Text

Zane Lowe

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN is mentioned in Harry’s interview with Zane Lowe.

Based on this request.

“Nice nails” Zane compliments Harry who’s sitting in the seat opposite.

“Thanks” Harry politely replies as he glances down at his turquoise nails sitting on his lap. “Thanks for having me”.

After discussing Pleasing and he loved the idea of It, Zane asked “What made you want to do that?”.

“I think for me like…a big part of it is…like I really like making stuff and I really like..kind of coming up with ideas and collaborating with other…especially YN who again is very creative…I feel like I’m really lucky with people around me both personally and professionally that I get to work with are really fun to work with and…you know working’s like my favourite thing to do so..based on the fact that I think obviously it begins as a hobby so then like getting to make stuff for work I feel like is a real gift. I think if I didn’t think about it too much I would be making music and putting out music constantly…but I’m also aware that I’m a total control freak and I want everything to be perfect..so the idea of like oh I made these four songs I’m just going to put out an EP…It’s just not how I think of it”.

---

“You're faced with a time when you can’t do that…and the great leveller of like it doesn’t matter how much money you have, doesn’t matter where you live, doesn’t matter this doesn’t matter that…you can’t travel you can’t do this, you can’t go outside your house..It’s like suddenly you’re forced to not be this musician guy, you’re forced to be like a boyfriend, brother and a son…and all of those things..and actually I feel like I..you know kind of had a little bit of a chance to focus on that at least for a moment..umm and just stop and kind of take in a lot of stuff and…remember things, you’re kind of gifted this stolen time” Harry explained his view on the world pandemic.

“You mentioned being all these roles…you mentioned being a boyfriend, what was it like during these times?” Zane quizzed. “Because I imagine you got a taste of what it’s like being a “normal” couple”.

Twisting and playing with his rings on his fingers, Harry explains “Umm…YN has always been my comfort you know and I’d like to think I’m hers too…she’s been a big part of my life and…we’ve been through so much tougher…that it was kind of nice to just stop and take that in.” Zane nodded, an indication for Harry to continue “So when the pandemic hit..we isolated in LA for a while..I saw it as a time for us to be just us…but YN did find it hard because she has such a big family…and umm she just wanted to be closer to them…especially her grandparents and siblings”.

“Yeah I can imagine that being hard..being so far away” Zane sympathised “I don’t mean to pry into your personal life but what do you mean by time for just you two?”

“Like..we’ve never known anything other than travelling..or just being surrounded by other people and just having to plan everything in so much detail..to like not be seen you know…so we kind of got to see what a normal like would be like, whatever a normal life is..if that makes sense?”.

“Yeah it makes total sense”. Zane agreed and could see that Harry craved a little normality in his personal life.

“I suppose..I’m just like really lucky..because YN just gets it. She got put into the limelight the same as us..you know..so yeah she just gets it and I’m just so lucky” Harry continued with a slight giggle as he repeated how lucky he was. “I think what I’m trying to say is…I hit gold when it came to YN…she really is my best friend too and yeah…it was nice to be just a couple without the added pressures.”.

---

“We have to acknowledge this because..you know we at one point we were going to this in the United Kingdom”. Harry nodded in agreement “But there’s something wonderful about being in this afterglow of Palm Springs..which is I'm sure is how you feel a little bit after these two amazing headline shows…you seem so chilled you know” Zane laughed but continue “There must have been a relief that you did it?”.

“I just..you know I knew I was going to put something out…whether it’s a show or an album or a song I want it to be perfect..and umm…I think like that’s why I take so much stress on I think around something like Coachella..cause I feel like I want it to be good..like if it’s not going to be good I’d rather not do it..so you know in that kind of setting, no matter what it is kind of…you know the dust or the wind or however many things, it's like so many things can go wrong in that situation..and it's not your show and it's my first festival so…you know I’m kind of going out to the crowd and I like knowing what I’m stepping out to” Harry rambled with a nervous chuckle at the end.

Harry continued “and that was really terrifying”.

“What was your instinct when they asked you to do it?” Zane interrupted.

“That’s too scary and I’m gonna say no” Harry laughed “But..uh YN was like you need to say yes and was just so encouraging and supportive..you know…plus she’s like my biggest fan so of course she wanted me to do it!”.

“So..would you say YN helps with the nerves?” Zane asked curiously.

“I was so nervous..like so nervous..and I remember YN being on facetime to Louis before the show..and them both saying just to be myself and to enjoy…and when I was out there I just focused on being me and nothing else”. Harry spoke freely. “Their advice definitely helped…’cause I had the best time!”.

“Late Night Talking?” Zane stated.

Harry let out a shy chuckle “Uhh…yeah” Harry leans his head on his hand to try and hide is cheeky smile “It’s about YN…well I don’t think it’s a shock to anyone”.

“So…would you say the whole album is about YN?” Zane asked confidently.

“Uhh..most of it..yeah pretty much” Harry smiled “She’s just been a constant in my life..since like we were what..sixteen or seventeen..you know..she’s my life..and I don’t have to pretend to be anyone other than myself around her you know…it’s just easy and I love that about our relationship.” Harry explained.

---

“Matilda really shows emotional intelligence and how you were thinking about someone at that time.”. Zane begins to talk about the middle song on Harry’s album.

“Uh…yeah…I actually didn’t write Matilda”. Harry revealed, causing Zane to looked shocked. “YN had this conversation with someone…and she was getting to know them…and they opened up to her and she was like that’s not normal…so she was almost like writing down what she wanted to say to them…and I was like how many people could relate to this you know…and we agreed that it would make a beautiful song for those who needed to hear it”.

“Waw! It holds a real powerful message and I think even if people don’t feel those things…I think it definitely makes them feel something.”. Zane spoke with passion in his voice.

“It definitely does….and it was just about saying I was listening….that was YN’s purpose to it”.

---

“Boyfriends” Zane began “It is a great song..It’s from a male perspective, it’s a very knowing song..and It’s a very self-aware song..you have to have some self-awareness to write from that perspective surely”.

Harry answered immediately “Yeah for sure…Boyfriends was written right at the end of Fine Line” Harry explained “Boyfriends is about like…we’re all flawed you know..and I think pretending like we’re not, I just don’t get it..It’s acknowledging my own behaviour, it’s looking at the behaviour I’ve witnessed..I grew up with a sister so it’s like watching her date people and watching friends…but at the same time admitting I’ve not been a perfect boyfriend either”.

---

“Love of My Life..I’d always wanted to write a song about like home and loving England…and all of that kind of stuff..and it’s kind of hard to do that you know”

“So Love of Love My Life is about home and England?” Zane asked with a slight smirk on his face.

“As I started making them album…I realised it wasn’t about the kind of geographical location…it was more of an internal thing” Harry tried to hide his bashful smile by rubbing his finger under his nose.

“Do I see Harry Styles blushing?” Zane began to tease Harry.

Harry lets out a loud chuckle and tries to hide his face in his hands “You know..I’ll admit that I blush sometimes…especially when it comes to YN!”.

Tag List:

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multifandomworldsposts · 6 months

Text

Day 20 of Kinktober: Being Mr. Styles’ Favorite Prostitute

pairing: Cowboy!Harry Styles x Prostitute!fem reader

warning: unprotected sex, prostitution, harry giving reader hickeys

Y/N’s POV

Every woman wanted him, every man wanted to be him, Mr. Styles was the most fucking handsome man in our town. I think he won’t want me, I’m a prostitute, people harass me, doesn’t care about me, and doesn’t even want me to be in any building we have in our town except my house and this saloon that a lot of prostitutes were in.

One night, Mr. Styles came in the saloon and once again, every woman threw themselves at him, but he wasn’t interested at all. But he wanted a girl who was willing for a good night with him. So he walked up to me and asked me for the offer, I said yes. Everyone gave me dirty looks when we went out of the saloon. Why does he want me? We go to a mansion, which looked beautiful in my opinion. We go in and it has gorgeous pieces of furniture and vases.

“You wanna go up in my bedroom honey?” Mr. Styles asks.

“Why? You wanna do bad things to me Mr. Styles?” I ask in a sexual tone.

He walks closer to me and says, “You know it sweetheart, go upstairs and the last door in the hallway is mine.”

I go upstairs and went to the room he told me to go in and again, the room looks gorgeous. I sit on the edge of the bed and tries to look sexy as possible. Mr. Styles comes in, naked with a cowboy hat on. I spread my legs so he can fully see my cunt and I try not to look at his huge cock that looks like it’s ready to squirt out cum inside me.

“I won’t bite.” I said with a grin on my face.

“I hope not, I heard you can be risky.” He says with a smirk on his face.

“I can be Mr. Styles.” I said closing my legs together and I kinda expose my breasts.

“Call me Harry hon.” He walks up to me and makes me spread my legs out again.

“Why do you want me Harry?” I question.

“What do you mean?” He answers.

“Everyone hates me because of me being a prostitute and me being in any building.” I say.

“Not to me, you’re just different from any other prostitute in this town.” He says.

“What type of different?” I said. I put my hands on the bed behind my back.

“Good different.” He says.

“So you actually think I’m attractive?” I ask.

“Yes Y/N.” He says.

“How do you know my name?” I said. I never told him my name.

“I heard the name from a few people and I knew it was you this whole time.” He grins.

I wrap my legs around his waist and he holds me tight to make us go to the end of the bed and lays me down, the pillows are so comfortable than my pillows. I grab his hat to wear it. He starts to fuck me in and out, I moan in pleasure, he goes faster which made me scream.

He gives me love bites on every body part of mine including near my cunt. I never had sex like this ever in my life.

When he was done I start to heavy breathe and I couldn’t move I felt so weak. Harry laid down next to me, I slowly turn my head to face him and look at him.

“How’d you feel Y/N.” Harry looks at me

“The best thing I’ve gotten from anyone from this town.” I smile.

“You’ll always be my favorite prostitute Y/N/N.” Harry winks at me.

“You can have me as long as you want.” I say.

#fanfic #fanfiction #harry styles #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #cowboy!harry styles #harry styles smut #harry edward styles #harrystyles #harry's house #one direction smut #one direction #1D #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc

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mulledcherrywine · 1 year

Text

Oh Baby, Yeah!

summary: You bring yours and Harry’s daughter to the studio and he can’t keep away from her

a/n: part of the Rosie storyline ! I love writing dad!H so lots of heart goes into these 🤭I imagine Rosie being born around HS1 era, then growing up through that, hence the pic above !!

You were laid back on the sofa outside the booth, Mitch and a few other crew members sat around with you as Harry was posted up in the booth. Your eight-month old, Rosie, was closely bundled in your arms, eyes shut softy as Harry cleaned up a few songs he’d been working on.

Adjusting his headphones, he gave a light wave to the both of you, earning a sleeping motion from you to indicate she was barely awake.

“He’s literally obsessed with her” Mitch laughed, looking at Rosie’s little face, “Like, never stops talking about you.”

You blushed thinking about Harry gushing of your daughter while you were away, even though you knew just as well from how he acted at home. He’d wake up early just to make sure she was safe and warm waking up, he’d bounce her around on his hip and sang lightly to her when she’d have a crying fit and he wouldn’t go a single night without making certain she fell asleep feeling loved.

He’d been working really hard lately. Even though his first solo album just recently made its debut, he was already back in the studio working away at other songs. He loved what he did, but sometimes it meant he had to be away from you and Rosie. Seeing as she was still quite new, he often had you both over to the studio.

After finishing off a few minutes of backing vocals, he stepped out of the booth, approaching where you were sat.

“Hi baby,” he said softly to you, reaching his arms out to take Rosie, “and hi, baby.”

He took her tightly in his right arm, holding her close to his person. Rosie’s eyes fluttered softly out of sleep, which normally boded a crying fit if she’d been rudely awoken, but the comfort of her fathers presence made tears far from possible.

“Jesus, he’s never going back in, now” one of the studio techs joked, removing the headset from his ears, “Breaktime, then?”

The studio team grouped up and shuffled out of the room, taking a much needed break from the day inside the crowded booth.

Mitch shuffled out after, giving a nod to you and Harry. You snuck over to him and your baby, brushing the hair back from Harry’s face and looking at his eyes as he looked to Rosie. The green of his eyes was glassy from tears.

“M’so lucky, s’just, like, emotional sometimes” he said, looking to you.

“I know, m’love” you hummed.

“Love her so much, an’ I love you, baby” he left a kiss on your temple, still holding Rosie tight as ever. She mumbled at the light motion of his body moving, causing the both of you to look down at her little green eyes.

“I love us,” you spoke, moving her already beautiful baby hairs atop her head.

“Stop, i’m going to, just, fully have a breakdown, lovie” Harry joked, his eyed widening like he was trying to jokingly stop the tears.

“Just post-baby hormones, m’love”

“Isn’t that just for the mum, though?”

“I think it applies”

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missmielyhoran · 2 months

Text

Cameras

She looks like a star but only on camera...

[Actor!Harry× Actress Oc!Amyra, Harry× Ellie]

A/N- Based on my interpretation of Cameras by Drake. I know you guys want Stages of grief but guys your girl is getting some alright! I'm happy right now let me be sad cause I'm dating a man afterall he's bound to do something and then I will update stages of grief<3

Warning- Smut babyyyyy, Cheating, Manipulation, Paparazzi, Fake Dating?, Toxic Harry and Oc, Choking, Hate fucking, just me being a menace tbh, ANGST, Enimes to lovers? they never get there tbh, oh and death, depression, abuse

Masterlist

*****

We've been living on the high, they've been talking on a low

But it's cool, know you heard it all before

Whispers were common for Harry. After all, that's what made him what he is today, famous.

The whispers paid his bills. All his luxury life was because of those whispers.

So he wraped his hand around her waist a little to close for coworkers or friends and definitely too close for someone he hated, but whispers grew louder, so did the camera shutters, and so did his pay.

Got you angry about this girl I'm with in all them magazines

Another plate went crashing against the wall just past Harry's head. He flinched and screamed.

"Are you fucking crazy!"

"Yes I am!" Ellie screams as she searches for another thing to throw at him, "You make me fucking crazy!" She screams and throws the magazine at him.

It hits him at the head, and that only makes his anger grow. He looked down and saw her smug face looking back at him like she was happy watching two of them fight, the satisfaction she was having from his misery.

Oh, how she got on his nerves even without being there.

"You're with her on everywhere! Magazines, social media, Twitter fucking everywhere. Everyone's talking about you two!" Ellie screams in anger, bringing the same topic of their fight for the millionth time.

It look like we in love, but only on camera

Only on camera, only on camera

"Ellie, you know it's only for the promotions! We need to have to spread the rumor to gain an audience! People love drama so we have to give them that!" Harry said, which was more like scream. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt headache growing.

"But for how long?" Ellie screamed. The only emotions she felt at this point were anger just anger, no tears, no sadness, no betrayal, just anger.

"I don't fucking know okay! Stop acting like a child and grow the fuck up!" He screamed again at her but louder making Ellie flinch which he noticed and he did feel bad.

See the problem was Harry didn't love Ellie, he care about her and she was a good fuck but he didn't love her but that care made him walk forward with a soft demour and kiss her softly.

"I hate her guts, Ellie. I have nothing with her. Whatever, it is just on camera. " He said, "If you want, you can check my phone"

"Yeah, I want to" Ellie said, sighing as she felt a bit lighter. Harry took his phone out of the jacket and gave it to her. Ellie went through his phone every corner of his phone she looked at, and that's only she felt relieved. There was nothing suspicious, and that made her feel embarrassed and sad about her overreacting.

"I'm so sorry, babe" Ellie said and hugged him. Harry hugged her back and chuckled mockingly

"It's alright Ellie" He said, "She's fucking crazy anyway" He said as he felt the burner phone vibrate in his back pocket.

Baby she looks like a star but only on camera

Only on camera, only on camera

Amyra was the talk of the town and has been since her birth.

Born to famous director dad and more famous actress mom she was the it girl since childhood.

She was pretty with her long red hair and sluttry brown eyes. She didn't have any extraordinary features, but that's what made her different. She was like any other person, but at the same time, she was not. She was Amyra Stockly, and she owned that.

No wonder she got Harry in her claws.

It's hard to stay away

You keep on calling me

Harry loved whispers no matter if it's from the paps or people gossiping about him when he passes by them or if it's from her tangled between the sheets.

"Yeah you fucking like that don't you?" He whispered in her ear and bit on it.

"No I fucking don't you forgot your today's dose of viagra or what?" She said laughing trying to rile Harry up which worked as he paused and groaned.

Harry grabbed her neck and pushed her face down into the pillow, making her lay on the bed on her stomach he pulled out of her immediately and then pushed in one go, making her moan into the pillow. He increased his pace, putting all his energy and thoughts in it.

"I don't even fucking know why I come back" He said in between breaths, "Cause you love my pussy, fucking pussy whipped" She said chuckling.

Harry gave her a particular harsh thrust making her moan louder than he has ever heard and he didn't know how in her green lively world he became harder still inside her.

"You like that baby? Pretty little Raya likes to be fucked like slut" He whispered in her ears as his fingers slid from her stomach to between her legs and he started rubbing her clit.

"She does but pretty little Harold seems to have forgotten about my clit it's on the fucking left" She says with gasping breaths. Harry feels embarrassment for a second but then goes back in with double encouragement and starts rubbing her clit faster.

She was so close so close to her eternal bliss when Harry's phone went off. She picked it up and as soon as she saw Ellie's name she threw it across the room making it shatter into pieces and all Harry did was chuckle cause it wasn't the first time it happened and certainly wasn't last.

Harry pushed on her back, making her arch more and started thrusting deeper, she screams on the top of her lungs as she squirted all over the bedsheets.

"Holy fuck" He said in disbelieve, the sight pushed him to his own high and he came all inside her filling her up to the brim.

Harry fell on the bed beside her, both heaving like animals. After a few minutes, she stood up and put on her slik robe and walked towards the windowsill and sat down lighting the cigarette.

The sight was somewhat what you would see in those Renaissance paintings, her robe slipping from her shoulder, the cigarette smoking mixing with the sunlight that fell just right on her hair making her look like all the sins and virtue combined in the heaven and the hell.

She was Harry's personal heaven in hell.

For a moment, Harry could've even said that he loved her, but he wouldn't. There was only one thing he could love that was money as much as the temptress she was. Nothing was worse than those green papers.

So, he stood up, got dressed, and walked out of the room like he cared so less about her. He walked out like he got the thing he wanted and couldn't have cared less.

But that wasn't true, was it? They both knew it just didn't want to acknowledge it.

So he left his temptress, his only sunshine in darkness on the windowsill with sin on her fingers and lips.

How you mean, how you mean, what you know about the team

You just know what you get told girl I see behind the scene

Harry didn't mean to peek, but when he heard shouting coming out of the trailer, he couldn't help himself.

The door was slightly ajar, but it was enough for him to look inside and watch her with a very angry look on her face, fighting with her manager still in set clothes.

"I can't do this shit anymore," She shouted, "I'm quitting. I can't do this movie, this spotlight, this fucking everything!" She shouted and this was the first time Harry saw her vulnerable. The raw expression on her face was much different from what she shows on the movie it was real, it was her.

"Why now? You've been in this since you were a newborn. Why now?" The manger asked her, "You can't do this cause you're tired or you are in love with your boytoy?" He asked, smirking.

She kept looking up at him with anger but now with slight hesitation. Robert laughed full of mokery and shook his head.

"Nothing to laugh about. I want out, and that's it." She put her foot down. Robert took a step forward and gribbed the back of her head, taking a chunk of her hair in her hand and making her wince.

Harry's hand formed a fist, but he refrained himself from intervening.

"I make rules here not you and you will do as I say or little kid wants this to get to her mom so, I will do that" He says with a evil smile when she doesn't say anything else he lets her go.

"That's what I thought."

Harry got out of the way before Robert could see him. As soon as he was out of the trailer, he went inside. Why? he didn't know he just wanted to.

He didn't know what he thought he would see, maybe her crying, sobbing on floor or breaking down whole trailer in anger shouting at everyonea anything expect her standing in front of the mirror flixing her hair like nothing happened.

He walked in slowly.

She looked at him.

He walked towards her and stood there looking into her honeycomb like mirage eyes and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug.

He felt her for the first time. He felt her rigid heart of stone melt into a puddle, and so he held her tighter, and for some reason, he never wanted to let her go.

He hoped she thought the same.

She spilled whisky on her shirt, she gon' have to get it cleaned

She been going way too hard, someone has to intervene

It was her birthday party, and since movie had wrapped up shooting there was a combined party.

And Harry did the stupidest thing he could.

His mind was a mess after that day, it felt like everything between them changed. Even their sex somehow felt....softer.

How a hug could change everything?

So, he took Ellie to the party and he regretted it as soon as he said it to her.

The cameras, the paps, everyone asking the same question, who is she, and the answer he gave was lound and clear, "Oh she's my friend."

She didn't seem to have taken it well though.

Harry saw her wandering eye falling on him, looking him up and down with the same hunger as always and then Ellie came in and pulled him into a kiss.

Amd then she was gone.

The person who's birthday party it was gone and no one cared. He was certain that if someone else would have cut her cake they wouldn't have cared.

But she came to cut the cake, drunk so, drunk and probably high also. She was stumbling, giggling it, it was endering to watch and concering also.

She cut the cake with Harry beside her playing the "supportive boyfriend" for media. She didn't feed him the piece, but to her other costar, Shelly. She doesn't even know Shelly! Harry was pissed to say the least, so while the cake got distributed, he decided to talk to her, but again, she vanished in thin air.

Harry for the whole night kept searching for her his eyes wandering to find her which annoyed Ellie a lot but she kept her cool and tried to pull him into a small kiss only for him to push Ellie away.

"What the fuck to you actually want?" Ellie asked him just for Harry to give her a eye roll.

"Not here, go back to your house we will talk there" He said to her before taking off to look for her.

Harry searched the whole house, every nook and corner from first floor to the last one the place left was the last bathroom on the top floor and he really hoped he would find her there.

He did find her sitting in the bathtub. Her heels were on the floor, her dress bunched up with whiskey stain on them, her makeup running down her cheeks all messy, yet she looked like something poet would write poems about.

If Harry wasn't so sure he would've said she just fucked someone but he saw her, he felt her cause he was feeling it too.

"Why are you ignoring me?" He asked. It was so stupid, but he wanted to know, and he also didn't know how to talk to her.

Her red eyes fell on him, and again Harry was amazed how intoxicating she was, how her single glance gave Harry so much relief like thirsty person in dessert just got his thirst quenched.

"You look handsome" She said with a small smile. He was in a sage green satin shirt with a dark blue suit accidentally matching with her green dress, which was for once was not planned.

"Not answer of my question." He said back and walked towards her and got into the tub in front of her.

"I don't need to answer anything to you" she said, taking a swing of champagne bottle he just noticed in her hand.

"You do. Why.are.you.ignoring.me?" He said through gritted teeth pushing his face closer to hers.

She looked up and Harry saw, he saw the same vulnerability he saw few weeks ago, he saw her, "You came with her" She said in a soft voice and Harry's whole body melted into a puddle. How could a person whose heart is made of stone could be melted by other person with the same heart. Maybe she broke him, rocks break rocks, and ignited fire that Harry feels every time he's near her.

"y-yes, she's my girlfriend" He said so unsure he cringed himself which she caught and smiled showing off her left side dimple.

"You love her?" She asked after some time. He didn't know who she was talking about, and he wanted to ask if it was Ellie or her, but how could he love anyone other than himself? Was he even capable of it? Maybe he was, but a scared broken man could have never loved right.

"Doesn't matter" He replied back, and her smile fell into a sad one. She took a deep breath and fell back, resting her back against the cold tiled floor.

"You're right it doesn't matter." She whispered, drinking again and everything went silent. "You know Harry I can have anything I want." She spoke after some time.

"Yeah I know you're filthy rich eveyone knows that" He said scoffing.

"Yet I can't have one thing I want and it's so annoying. Cause I always get what I want I'm Amyra Stockly and I can't" She said through a chuckle and scoff. He didn't know how to comfort her. He didn't know why he wanted to comfort her. He hated her but maybe that was it, he hated her.

"What do you want Raya?" He asked into a soft voice. She looked at him, so deep he thought she could see his soul, his heart beating so fast it could power a city lighting up her name.

"Really like that nickname. First one I ever got to be honest" She said, "If you don't consider slut to be a nickname"

"Why are you dodging all of my questions?" Harry asked feeling annoyed by her nonchalant behavior.

"It's called good media training kinda get used to it when you have been doing it for so long" She said with a smirk and he knew she was just edging him to snap but that wasn't gonna happen that day.

"Forget that tell me what you got me for present? It's my birthday, after all, or did you think you would get away with birthday sex?" She said with a playful tone.

"No I brought you something" Harry said with a smile, he worked for a month straight on her gift, the one she knew she would love but as he searched and felt nothing in his pockets he was reminded that it was in Ellie's purse, "Shit I forgot it at home I promise I will give it to you"

"You better, I will be waiting" She said taking a swing of drink again.

He just hummed and watched her. Everyone knew she was gorgeous, the red hair, brown eyes with slight freckles on her nose she was like some Goddess sent on earth.

The light bouncing from the mirror in front of tub bounced and fell softly on her side. Harry scooted closer to her and tucked her messy strand of hair behind her ear, it was missing earring which made him smile.

He looked at her and pulled her in a kiss, it was soft like sleeping a bed of clouds, he didn't know what shit feeling butterflies was like until that moment. The kiss left both of them breathless, her lips glistening and swollen made him love all over again.

"If it was your last night how would you spend it?" She whispered to him, her eyes not leaving his and he wished he could have seen it but he couldn't.

"I would spend it with someone I love" He whispered back, his fingers brushing her hair making her hum in contentment.

The moment soon was destroyed as his phone rang and he saw Ellie's name pop up on the screen, made him so angry he wanted to throw his phone across the room but he took a deep breath and picked it up.

"I don't want to waste much of you time just want to give you back her gift sonce it's her birthday and all. I'm the parking" She said as soon as he picked up the call.

"I will be there in 5" He replied and started to get up when she gripped his hand.

"Stay" She said.

"What?" He asked in confusion.

"Stay just for tonight. Don't go to her" She whispered so softly he could've missed it but he didn't know how he could when she was all he could see.

"What are you-"

"Stay here with me in this bathroom for one night. Just you and me" She cut him off. The look in her eyes was something he could never forget. Even in darkness, her eyes shined like sunlight peeking through the holes of a dark room, and maybe that's somewhat what Harry saw her as.

She burned for her whole life but shined into everyone elses. So, he walked towards that door and this time he didn't leave his temptress but he locked the door and walked back to her. He gave into her, and she pulled him into her like they were made of the same starlight.

Somewhere during the night of their deep conversation and laughs, Harry fell asleep. The cool and hard tile made his back hurt. He got up, groaning in pain, and with a raging headache. He looked around, trying to find her asleep beside him, but she wasn't there.

He walked towards the door and saw the reflection of himself in the mirror, lipstick stain littering on his cheeks and neck, he smiled as he remembered her kissing all of him but it was so innocent he felt like a teenager in love.

Baby she look like a star, but only on camera

Only on camera, only on camera

Many times, life has taken an unexpected turn for Harry, but this was something that made his head spin.

Amyra Stockly found dead in her bathrub was not the news he ever expected to hear. That was the first time in his life he cried since he was a baby.

He was a mess. He didn't do any press tour or got out of his house until one day, when he found the wrapped up gift.

He never had the courage to go to her grave, he was at her funeral but he ran away from there also, how could he see the eyes that he saw the whole universe in be closed forever?

It was a cruel joke on his life.

First time he fell in love and universe took it away from him.

They took her.

So, he collected all of his courage and walked up to her grave, which, just like her, was beautiful, flowers surrounded her grave from fans and whatever friends and family she had.

He sat down not even caring about getting his clothes dirty it was last of his concerns, he fished his pocket for the thing he came for.

"I know you're still waiting. Even dead you are stubborn showing up in my dreams and sometimes in front of my eyes giving me false hope of you being here with me still" He said with a chuckle.

"I got a tattoo for you" He said, touching the lipstick marks made on his neck, "I know your narcissistic ass is loving it" Harry laughed now seeing blurry due to tears filling his eyes.

He took out the envelope from his pocket and duct taped it to her grave cause hell he was not letting it go anywhere but her, the song he wrote for her and for her only.

He hid it under the flowers so it could stay like that for a while, as he was hiding it he saw a picture of him and her. It was only genuine photo of them where the smiles where real on both of their faces and it made all his patience crumble.

"Wish you were still here" He said through sobs. His broken voice was interrupted with a loud thunder and then rain.

It wasn't even rainy that day but he knew.

It wasn't universe.

It was his universe.

It was her.

*****

62 notes · View notes

musicforastylesrestaurant · 11 months

Text

Home.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - i saw harry at wembley on wednesday with my boyfriend and both our little sisters and it inspired me to write this cutesy blurb, which turned out a lot longer than i expected it to be, that’s for sure…anywho, i hope you enjoy <3

word count - 11.7k

in which, you and your husband harry have finally arrived home and is performing at wembley stadium later that week and you and the family tag along for the ride. a ride that will forever live in your memories.

As you and your husband Harry Styles enter the bustling airport, the air is filled with a palpable sense of excitement.

You were flying home so that your husband could play four nights at the iconic Wembley Stadium.

The stadium of dreams.

And for some reason, he had come up with the idea of travelling back home on a commercial flight, saying that he liked the thrill of flying home surrounded by other people.

As much as you and Jeff had told him that that probably wasn’t a great idea due to the amount of fans he had, he had assured you that he had booked first class tickets so that it would be a lot quicker.

Suitcases in tow, you make your way to the check-in counter, where a friendly attendant greets you with a warm smile.

"Good afternoon, how can I assist you today?" she asks.

With a grin, you hand over your travel documents. "We're here to check our suitcases in for our journey," you reply.

Harry places his hand on your back, offering support and a reassuring smile.

The attendant efficiently tags and weighs your suitcases, ensuring they meet the airline's requirements. As she attaches the final tag, you feel a rush of anticipation.

"All checked in and ready to go," she says cheerfully. You thank her, feeling a sense of accomplishment as you and Harry take hold of your boarding passes.

You took the boarding pass from him knowing for a fact that he couldn’t be trusted with looking after it himself.

That man lost everything.

With the suitcases safely checked in, you proceed towards the security checkpoint. As you wait in line, Harry wraps his arm around your waist, providing both comfort and a sense of togetherness.

"We're almost there, love," he whispers, his voice filled with reassurance. You lean into his embrace, grateful for his presence amidst the bustling crowd.

He knew that you got anxious in busy crowds which you signed up for when you started dating him, but he always knew how to make you feel better.

He was your medicine.

It was soon your turn to go through security. After waiting in the queue for around twenty five minutes you proceeded to move forward.

You gather your belongings, Harry takes the initiative to organise the stroller and any loose items, ensuring a smooth process.

The stroller belonged to your eleven month old baby boy, Thames Harry Styles.

His name was inspired by the city he was born in, a city you and Harry adored and the name simply fitted his face the second you laid eyes on him almost 365 days ago.

His birth story was a funny one that’s for sure.

“Let's Make sure we have everything," he says, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

With a nod, you double-check the contents of the diaper bag, feeling grateful for his attention to detail.

Once through security, a sense of relief washes over you both. It was as smooth as can be.

You find yourselves at the gates, with a few hours to spare before boarding.

Now it was simply a waiting game.

The enticing aromas of food from nearby restaurants catch your attention, reminding you of your growing eleventh old baby that would need some food, and the fact you had heard Harry’s stomach rumbling.

"Shall we grab a bite to eat, sweet boy?" you suggest, hunger evident in your voice.

Harry's eyes light up with enthusiasm. "Absolutely, let's find something delicious,I’m wasting away over here.”

Together, you explore the airport's array of culinary options, browsing menus and making a decision.

Eventually, you settle on a Wetherspoons, an airport classic, a restaurant that you couldn’t not go to when at an airport.

You make your way to the bustling pub-style restaurant, the clinking of cutlery and the lively chatter of fellow diners filling the air. Harry takes a moment to adjust Thames in his arms, ensuring his little body is comfortable and secure.

"Shall we grab a table, love?" he suggests, his voice filled with warmth. You nod, eager to satisfy your hunger and enjoy a moment of relaxation.

As you approach a vacant table, a friendly server greets you with a smile.

"Table for three?" she asks, glancing at Thames in your arms.

You smile back and reply, "Yes, please."

With a swift movement, she brings over a highchair, placing it at the table with care.

As you settle into your seats, Thames begins to squirm with curiosity, his wide eyes taking in the bustling surroundings. You gently place him in the highchair, fastening the safety belt and ensuring he's comfortable.

Harry leans over, his voice soft and playful. "Looks like our little explorer is ready to take on the world," he says, affection evident in his tone.

With menus in hand, you and Harry peruse the diverse options offered by Wetherspoons. The enticing aroma of pub classics and international flavors heightens your anticipation.

"What are you in the mood for, love?" Harry asks, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You ponder the choices before replying, "I think I'll go for the fish and chips, and maybe a side of onion rings."

Harry nods, his own cravings aligning with yours. "Sounds perfect. I'll go for the same," he says, his voice filled with agreement.

As you place your order, the server nods, jotting down your selections. Thames, captivated by the colorful surroundings, babbles happily, his tiny hands grasping at imaginary treasures.

Harry chuckles, his eyes never leaving Thames. "He's already a charmer, isn't he?" he remarks, a proud smile on his face.

You nod, a mix of joy and exhaustion washing over you. "Absolutely. He's got both of our best qualities," you reply, a hint of playfulness in your voice.

Moreso of Harry’s qualities, that was for sure.

He looked like his father in both looks and personality.

As you wait for your food, conversation flows effortlessly between you and Harry. You discuss plans for the journey, reminiscing about past adventures, and revelling in the simple pleasure of being together.

The minutes tick by, the restaurant gradually filling with the aroma of sizzling dishes.

Finally, the server arrives, skillfully balancing trays laden with steaming plates. She places your fish and chips and the accompanying sides before you, the golden batter glistening under the warm lights.

Harry looks at the food, his eyes widening in anticipation. "Looks incredible," he exclaims, picking up his fork.

You follow suit, savouring the crispy exterior and succulent fish beneath.

Fish and chips was definitely one of your favourites.

Between bites, you steal glances at Thames, who now claps his tiny hands in delight at the sights and sounds around him. You share a knowing smile with Harry, grateful for these precious moments as a family.

The ambiance of Wetherspoons, the taste of delicious food, and the laughter that fills the air create a tapestry of memories that will forever be cherished.

As the last morsel is devoured and satisfied smiles adorn your faces, you bask in the contentment that comes from a fulfilling meal shared with loved ones.

With Thames growing tired, you carefully lift him out of the highchair and cradle him in your arms, pressing a soft kiss to his mop of brown curls. Harry reaches over to help clear the table, his actions a testament to his attentiveness and willingness to share the responsibilities of parenthood.

As you make your way towards the exit of Wetherspoons, the journey ahead beckons. Thames's eyelids grow heavy, and he nestles his head against your shoulder, lulled by the comforting presence of his parents. You exchange a glance with Harry, both of you silently conveying the deep love and gratitude you feel for the life you've built together.

It wasn't long after you were out of the pub that you heard your gate getting called over the overhead speakers.

As you approached the gate, the final call for boarding resonated through the speakers. Harry knelt down in front of Thames, who was now resting in his stroller, which you knew he would have to get out of in a second, a mix of excitement and tenderness in his eyes.

The stroller that he had was one that folded up and could easily slip into the overhead lockers.

"Hey there, little buddy," he said, his voice gentle. "We're about to hop on a plane and go on an amazing adventure. Are you ready?"

Thames clapped his hands, his face beaming with anticipation.

Harry’s smile widened as he lifted Thames into his arms, giving him a playful spin."That's my little adventurer!" he exclaimed, eliciting giggles from Thames.

It wasn’t long before you were all settled into your seats on the plane, the anticipation of the journey ahead mixed with a touch of nervousness.

Your husband sat beside you, and your eleven-month-old son, Thames, was cradled in your arms. The hum of conversation filled the cabin as passengers settled in.

During the take off part of the flight, Thames was a dream, he was growing tired so he was a bit out of it which you and Harry were grateful for, but when the flight was just nearing halfway through was when things took a turn for the worst.

Thames appeared to be showing signs of restlessness.

His tiny face scrunched up, and a soft whimper escaped his lips. You rocked him gently, trying to soothe him, but his cries grew louder, catching the attention of nearby passengers.

One passenger glanced over, annoyance etched on their face, while another exchanged a frustrated look with their travel companion. You could feel the weight of their disapproval, and a pang of guilt washed over you.

Harry leaned closer, concern etched on his features. "Is everything okay, love?" he whispered, his voice filled with care.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I think Thames is feeling a little overwhelmed. The noise, the unfamiliar surroundings... it's all getting to him."

Thames had been on many flights during his eleven months of life, it wasn’t like it was his first flight, but you couldn't help but think it was due to the fact he didn’t have the usual people around him that he usually would on Harry’s jet.

There was no Sara, Mitch, Jeff or Pauli.

You couldn’t help but think that the unfamiliar faces were starting to get to him a little bit.

Harry's eyes softened as he reached out to stroke Thames's cheek. "Hey, little buddy," he cooed, his voice gentle. "We're here with you. It's okay."

He really was the best dad ever.

Thames's cries began to subside, his tiny body relaxing in your arms as he felt the comfort of his father's touch. The tension in the cabin eased slightly, but the disapproving glances still lingered.

Feeling the weight of the situation, you decided to address the concerned passengers. Taking a deep breath, you mustered the courage to speak up.

"I'm sorry if Thames's cries have been bothering you," you said, your voice carrying a hint of apology. "He's just a little overwhelmed with the new surroundings. We're doing our best to comfort him."

The passenger who had shown annoyance earlier softened their expression, realising the effort you were making.

"Oh, it's alright," they replied, a touch of understanding in their tone. "Babies cry, and it's not your fault."

Another passenger chimed in, offering a smile. "Children can be unpredictable. We understand."

Phew.

As the plane continued its journey, you and Harry took turns soothing Thames, singing softly and playing with him to distract him from his unease. The cries turned into intermittent whimpers, and Thames gradually settled into a more peaceful state.

Throughout the flight, you could feel the empathy and support of the passengers around you. Some even offered kind words of encouragement, acknowledging the challenges of travelling with a young child.

Harry glanced at you, his eyes filled with admiration. "You're doing an amazing job, love," he said, his voice laced with gratitude.

You smiled back at him, grateful for his support. "We're in this together, Harry. Our little family will always come first."

As the plane prepared to land, Thames's cries had long subsided. You exchanged relieved glances with Harry, appreciating the understanding shown by your fellow travellers.

As you disembarked, a passenger approached you, their expression warm and friendly.

"You're doing a great job as parents," they said, their voice filled with sincerity. "Travelling with children can be challenging, but it's all worth it. Take care."

As the plane touched down and came to a stop, a wave of relief washed over you. The journey that appeared to be a lot longer than it needed to be was finally over and that meant you were one step closer to getting off of the plane. The doors opened, and the announcement to disembark filled the cabin.

With Thames cradled in your arms, you made your way down the aisle, grateful for the support and understanding you had received from the crew due to the fact Thames was a little terror. As you reached the exit, the sight of the stairs leading down to the tarmac greeted you.

Harry smiled warmly, his hand reaching out to grasp yours. "We made it, love," he said, his voice filled with pride. "Home at last."

You returned his smile, feeling a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. "It's going to be incredible seeing you perform at Wembley, sweet boy," you replied, your voice tinged with gratitude. "Touring with you and experiencing all those incredible moments together—it's something we'll cherish forever."

As you descended the stairs, the cool breeze of home caressed your faces, and the familiar surroundings welcomed you. Thames gazed wide-eyed at the scene, his little hand reaching out to touch the railing of the stairs.

"Home!" Thames babbled, his voice filled with excitement.

Harry chuckled, his eyes sparkling with joy. "Yes, Thames, we're home," he affirmed, his voice tender. "Our cosy sanctuary where we can relax and create beautiful memories."

Thames's eyes darted around, taking in the familiar sights and sounds. "Home, Mama!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with delight.

You kissed the top of his head, the love for your family swelling in your chest. "Yes, Thames, this is our home," you whispered.

One thought lingered in the back of your head that led to a smile forming onto your face.

Harry was home.

The sun gently peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room as you quietly tip-toed towards the bedroom. With a tray of delicious treats in hand, and your eleven-month-old son, Thames, wiggling in your arms, you were ready to surprise your husband, with a special breakfast in bed.

As you reached the bedroom door, you whispered to Thames, "Are you ready to wake up Daddy, my little helper?"

Thames giggled, his bright eyes twinkling with excitement. "Dada!" he squealed, his tiny hands reaching out.

You carefully placed Thames on the bed, allowing him to crawl towards Harry. His chubby fingers gently brushed against Harry's cheek, and his giggles filled the room.

Harry stirred, slowly opening his eyes to find his two favourite people eagerly awaiting him. A smile spread across his face as he propped himself up on his elbows. "Well, good morning, my loves," he greeted, his voice still laced with sleepiness.

The morning voice of his never failed to cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

You grinned, the love in your heart swelling. "Good morning, sleepyhead," you replied, playfully tousling Harry's hair. "We thought you deserved a special treat today."

Harry's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the tray filled with his favourite breakfast items. "Breakfast in bed?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with delight. "You two are spoiling me."

And he should expect nothing less.

Thames clapped his hands, his smile mirroring Harry's enthusiasm. "Dada!" he babbled, pointing at the tray.

Chuckling, Harry scooted up, propping himself against the headboard. "Alright, Thames, let's dig in," he said, his voice full of excitement.

You settled next to Harry, Thames wriggling happily between the two of you.

As Harry took a bite of the fluffy pancakes, his eyes widened in delight. "These are amazing, love," he exclaimed, his mouth full.

You blushed, a mix of pride and joy filling your heart. "I'm glad you like them. Thames and I wanted to start your day off with something special."

Thames reached out, his tiny fingers grabbing at a slice of fruit from the tray. "Yummy!" he giggled, taking a bite.

Harry chuckled, his eyes filled with adoration. "Looks like our little chef approves too," he said, his voice filled with pride.

As you enjoyed the meal together, the room filled with laughter and playful chatter. Thames clapped his hands, eager to join in the conversation. You looked at Harry, a warm glow in your eyes.

"Harry, you bring so much joy to our lives," you whispered, your voice filled with love. "Thames and I are grateful for every moment we spend with you."

Harry's smile softened, his gaze locked with yours. "And I'm grateful for you two," he replied, his voice filled with tenderness. "You make every day feel like a gift."

As the breakfast came to an end, Harry leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on your lips, Thames giggling in between. "Thank you for the delicious breakfast and for being the most amazing partner and mother," Harry said, his voice sincere.

You leaned in, your forehead resting against his. "Thank you for being the incredible husband and father that you are," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude.

Thames crawled into your lap, his little arms reaching out to embrace both of you. You wrapped your arms around him, creating a tight-knit family embrace.

Together, you basked in the warmth and love of the moment, cherishing the simple pleasures of togetherness and the joy that filled your hearts. Breakfast in bed was just the beginning of a beautiful day filled with love and adventure. With Thames nestled between you and Harry, you discussed the plans for the day.

"You’re going to go and see Nana in a minute, are you excited?" you asked Thames, brushing a strand of hair away from Thames's face.

Last night, Harry had informed you that he had booked for the two of you to take part in a quick session of pilates before the show so that he could stretch out his muscles. Anne was already in London and didn’t hesitate to accept the offer of babysitting for her grandson.

Thames clapped his hands in agreement, his eyes shining with anticipation.

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After dropping Thames off round Harry’s mother’s house, the two of you got ready to head to the pilates studio together.

You and Harry walked hand in hand into the bright and airy studio, ready for your first Pilates class together of the week.

As the instructor greeted you with a warm smile, you couldn't help but exchange a mischievous glance with Harry. This was going to be a fun and flirty experience.

It always was whenever you did anything gym related with him, he always had that smirk on his face, that you fell in love with all of them years ago.

You found a spot in the back row, unrolling your mats and settling in. The soft music played in the background, creating a soothing ambiance. The instructor began guiding the class through a series of warm-up exercises.

Harry leaned over, his lips brushing against your ear. "You look absolutely stunning in those leggings, love," he whispered, his voice laced with playful admiration.

You were wearing a pair of light grey Nike leggings, followed by a black crop top, Nike trainers and some running trainers.

You giggled, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks. "Well, you're not looking too bad yourself, Mr. Styles," you replied, playfully nudging his side.

He was wearing a black shirt, with matching black shorts and a pair of red trainers hugging his feet. His curls clipped atop his head by a spider clip.

He looked really good.

You could only imagine what he would look like with sweat dripping down his body.

As the class progressed, you both couldn't resist stealing glances at each other during stretches and poses.

Your eyes locked, and a playful competition emerged, each of you trying to outdo the other's flexibility and grace.

During a particularly challenging exercise, Harry struggled to maintain his balance. You couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter, causing the instructor to pause and give you a curious look.

"Everything alright back there?" the instructor asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Harry grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Just trying to keep up with my incredible partner here," he replied, nodding toward you.

You blushed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and delight. "He's right," you added, flashing the instructor a playful smile. "We can't resist some friendly competition."

The instructor chuckled, clearly amused by your antics. "Well, as long as you're having fun and staying safe, carry on," she said, resuming the class.

Well that wasn’t embarrassing in the slightest.

As the session continued, Harry couldn't resist reaching out, subtly intertwining his fingers with yours during a challenging core exercise. The touch of his hand sent a jolt of electricity through your body, making it hard to concentrate on the routine.

"Focus, love," Harry whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I don't want you getting distracted."

You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "Says the one who can't keep his eyes off me," you retorted, your voice filled with playful flirtation.

The class came to an end, and as you lay side by side on your mats, cooling down, you couldn't help but exchange satisfied smiles. Sweaty and slightly out of breath, you both felt invigorated and closer than ever.

You could see trails of sweat rolling off of his forehead and some specks had dripped onto his neck, holy moly.

Your husband was fit.

"That was an incredible workout," Harry said, his voice filled with admiration. "But I must say, the highlight was getting to flirt with you the entire time."

You chuckled, your heart swelling with affection. "Flirting with you is always a highlight, Mr. Styles," you replied, playfully poking his tattooed arm. Specifically the mermaid tattoo.

The instructor approached, a knowing smile on her face. "You two certainly brought some extra charm to the class today," she commented, her voice filled with amusement.

Harry flashed her a charming grin. "We like to keep things fun and flirty," he replied, his eyes never leaving yours.

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The grandeur of Wembley Stadium greeted you as the three of you arrived at the iconic stadium. The vast space seemed even more immense without the presence of the usual throngs of fans. Tonight's performance was going to be a big one, that was for sure.

As you walked through the empty stadium, Thames cradled in your arms, a sense of awe washed over you. This iconic venue held so many memories and had witnessed countless legendary performances. And tonight, it would become a backdrop for Harry's music and the love you shared as a family.

Harry's hand found yours, his fingers interlacing with yours. "It's just us, love," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and gratitude. "I'm so glad we get to experience this moment together, as a family."

You squeezed his hand, feeling a surge of warmth and love. "Me too, Harry," you replied, your voice filled with adoration. "Thames and I are so proud of you, and we're honoured to be here with you tonight."

Thames squirmed in your arms, his eyes wide with curiosity. His tiny fingers reached out, as if trying to grasp the magnitude of the space around him. "Dada?" he babbled, his voice filled with innocence and wonder.

Harry chuckled, bending down to kiss Thames's forehead. "Yes, little man," he said, his voice laced with affection. "Dada is going to perform on that stage tonight, just for you and Mommy."

You couldn’t help but reminisce the last time Harry had performed at the stadium, it was June 18th, 2022.

Aka, the best day of both your lives for a totally different reason.

You stood backstage at Wembley Stadium, watching with pride as your husband electrified the crowd with his captivating performance. The energy in the air was palpable, and you couldn't help but be swept up in the magic of the moment. Little did you know that another kind of magic was about to unfold.

As Harry sang his heart out on stage to Watermelon Sugar, you felt a sudden rush of warmth between your legs.

Panic coursed through your veins as you realised your waters had broken. You glanced around, spotting the midwife that Harry had insisted that you hire for reasons exactly like this. Her name was Mary and so far, she had been touring Europe with you and Harry in case anything were to happen.

So far, nothing had happened.

That was until now.

You took a deep breath, trying to remain calm amidst the chaos. You didn't want to interrupt Harry's performance. You wanted him to finish his set and bask in the glory of the moment before breaking the news. It would be a memory he would cherish forever.

His manager, Jeff, noticed the concern on your face and approached you. "Everything okay, love?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine care.

You tried to maintain composure as you whispered, "My waters just broke, Jeff. But I don't want to distract Harry. Let him finish his performance."

Jeff's eyes widened, his concern mirroring yours as he watched as a contraction rippled through your body, not so much a painful one, just a little bit more painful than your braxton hicks.

"Right, okay," he replied, quickly assessing the situation. "We'll get the midwife closer, and as soon as Harry comes off stage, she'll be there to help."

Anne, Harry's mother, joined you, sensing something was amiss. She placed a hand on your shoulder, her eyes filled with concern.

"Darling, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice filled with motherly love.

You bit your lip, holding back tears of both fear and excitement. "My waters broke, Anne," you whispered, your voice shaking. "But I want to wait until Harry finishes his performance."

Anne's eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded understandingly. "We'll do as you say, love," she assured you, her voice filled with support. "We'll make sure everything is ready for when Harry comes off stage."

That moment couldn’t come fast enough.

As the minutes ticked by, Harry's performance reached its peak. The crowd's roars echoed through the stadium, electrifying the air. You watched with bated breath, your contractions intensifying, as Harry poured his heart into the final song.

Kiwi was always a banger.

The moment the last note faded away, the stage erupted into applause, signalling the end of an incredible show. Harry's breathless form emerged from the stage, a mixture of exhaustion and elation on his face.

Just before he had come off of stage, another contraction coursed your body. They were picking up now, and your heart was starting to beat just that much faster.

You took a deep breath, knowing the time had come. The midwife stood by your side, ready to assist as soon as Harry was off stage.

Harry approached, his eyes searching yours for answers. "What's going on, love?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

A mix of emotions swirled within you as you looked into his eyes, you were eager to tell him, but also slightly out of breath.

"Harry, my waters…broke," you said, your voice trembling with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. "But I didn't want to interrupt ….your performance. I wanted you to finish."

Harry's eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of emotions flickering across his face. "Are you serious?" he asked, his voice filled with astonishment.

The midwife stepped forward, a reassuring smile on her face. "Congratulations, Harry," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "You're about to become a father."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he pulled you into a tight embrace. "I can't believe it," he whispered, his voice trembling with overwhelming joy. "We're having a baby. Our baby."

The labour portion of the birth had apparently been moving a lot faster than either of you had anticipated, and Mary had informed the crew working at Wembley and Jeff that you would have to deliver the baby here.

You were going to have a baby at Wembley arena.

"We'll need a private area, away from the noise and commotion," Mary spoke, raising her voice as she locked eyes on crew members. "Let's find a suitable space backstage."

Together, you and Harry made your way through the labyrinth of backstage corridors, supported by the crew. Harry had picked you up bridal style and you wrapped your arms around his neck as pain coursed through your body, often making you arch your back.

Finally, you reached a secluded area, transformed into a makeshift delivery room. The crew had done their best to create a calm and sterile environment amidst the backstage chaos.

As the midwife prepared the space, you were carefully lowered down on the pillows that the crew had laid down for you. Harry stood by your side, his face a mixture of awe and concern. He took your hand in his, providing a steady anchor amidst the intensity of the moment.

You had never needed him more than you needed him now.

The contractions surged, each one demanding your full attention. The midwife guided you through breathing exercises, offering words of encouragement and support.

Harry's voice joined in, whispering soothing words and reminding you of your strength.

His words consisted of.

“You’ve got this, love.’

‘You’re doing absolutely amazing.’

‘They’re almost here,’

Time seemed to blur as the intensity of the contractions increased. Waves of pain washed over you, but you focused on the profound connection between you, Harry, and your unborn child.

With each push, you felt your body working in harmony with the natural rhythm of birth.

Harry's love and support fueled your determination, and the midwife provided expert guidance, ensuring the safety of both you and your baby.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity and yet a fleeting moment, your baby emerged into the world.

A cry filled the air, a beautiful symphony of life and love.

Tears streamed down Harry's face as he looked upon the tiny, fragile being in your arms. "Our baby... our miracle," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of overwhelming joy and awe.

You marvelled at the perfect little human you had brought into the world, the culmination of your love and shared journey with Harry. In that moment, the backstage chaos faded away,and all that mattered was the miracle of new life that lay before you.

The midwife carefully placed your baby on your chest, skin-to-skin, fostering the precious bond between parent and child. You gazed into your little one's eyes, overcome with a profound sense of love and gratitude.

Your baby boy.

As the cries of your baby filled the intimate space backstage, a hush fell over the room. The crew and staff, who had been bustling with energy, stood in awe, witnessing the miracle unfold before them. The noise from the stage faded into the background, replaced by the tender sounds of a newborn's first cries.

Amidst the emotional whirlwind, the door swung open, and in walked Jeff, Harry's manager, and Anne, Harry's mother. They had been alerted to the situation and rushed to your side, their expressions a mix of concern and joy.

Anne's eyes brimmed with tears as she approached you, her voice filled with tenderness. "Oh, my darling, you've done it. You've brought this beautiful life into the world," she said, her words carrying a weight of pride and love.

Jeff, too, was in awe of the scene unfolding before him. He stood beside Harry, both men moved beyond words. The connection between you, Harry, and the new addition to your family was a testament to the strength and love that bound you all together.

As the midwife attended to the final steps of the delivery, ensuring your well-being and that of your baby, Harry leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You were incredible, love," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration. "I'm so proud of you."

Tears of joy streamed down your face as you basked in the overwhelming emotions that flooded your heart. You had overcome the unexpected circumstances, bringing your baby into the world backstage at Wembley, surrounded by love, music, and the support of those closest to you.

Your little Thames Harry Styles.

“What’re you thinking about, love?”

You snapped out of your daydreaming and turned to smile at your husband who now had your baby boy settled on his hip, sucking his dummy innocently as he peered around at the empty stadium that would soon be filled up.

“June 18th, 2022.” was all you said, and it was enough for him to nod his head in understanding.

“The best day of our lives.”

You nodded your head as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “The best day of our lives, our boy’s a dramatic one just like his father.”

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As the anticipation built inside Wembley Stadium, you found yourself standing beside Anne, both of you eager to soak in the energy of the pre-concert atmosphere. The air crackled with excitement as fans began to gather, eagerly awaiting Harry's show.

Thames was playing with Harry who was with Jeff and Pauli, trying to tire him out so that he would have a nap before the show.

You and Anne decided to take a moment outside the stadium, away from the bustling backstage area as per your husband's idea.

As you walked hand in hand, a smile graced your lips, knowing that this time with Harry's mother was precious and rare.

Anne wasn’t just Harry and Gemma’s mother. She was a mother to you as well.

When you and Harry first started dating, the two of you were twenty. He was just coming out of his teenage years and when he first introduced you to his mother, the two of you instantly had this huge connection.

You could go to her about absolutely anything.

You and Harry got engaged at twenty five, and married when you were both 27. You had Thames at 28.

The sight that greeted you outside Wembley was a breathtaking display of fandom and dedication. Fans had gathered from all corners of the world, adorned in Harry's merchandise, waving handmade signs, and exchanging stories of their love for his music.

Anne's eyes twinkled with delight as she surveyed the scene. "Look at this incredible support," she marvelled. "It's truly remarkable."

It really was.

You nodded in agreement, appreciating the devotion and passion of Harry's fans. As you strolled along the line of fans waiting patiently, you stopped occasionally to chat, share smiles, and take photos.

One fan, a young girl with a beaming smile, who was queuing up with her father, approached you and Anne.

"Can I have a picture with you both?" she asked, her voice filled with excitement.

"Of course," you replied, your own smile matching hers. You weren't one to turn down a picture, only when Thames was with you. You and Harry were very private people when it came to your baby boy.

You posed with the fan, doing your husband's classic peace sign, capturing a moment of connection and shared joy. In that instant, the bond between artist, fans, and loved ones was palpable.

The young girl then extended her wrist, revealing a stack of colourful friendship bracelets. "I made these for Harry and his loved ones. Would you like one?"

Your heart swelled with gratitude for the fan's thoughtfulness. "That's incredibly sweet. We would love to have one," you said, carefully selecting a bracelet for yourself and another for Anne.

Your bracelet was light blue, and had the word ‘HSLOT’ written on it. It was truly unique.

With a simple exchange of bracelets, a connection was forged—a symbol of unity and appreciation. It was a reminder of the unbreakable bond that formed between Harry, his fans, and those who supported him.

As you continued to mingle with the fans, you encountered stories of personal growth, healing, and shared experiences. The love and impact of Harry's music became even more evident, as fans poured out their hearts and expressed their gratitude for the way his art had touched their lives.

In the midst of the conversations, Anne shared anecdotes of Harry's journey as an artist, revealing moments of vulnerability and dedication that had shaped him into the person he had become. Her stories painted a vivid picture of Harry's relentless pursuit of his dreams and the unwavering support he had received from his loved ones.

You listened intently, captivated by Anne's words. She spoke with a mother's pride, sharing how Harry's passion for music had blossomed from a young age. She recounted moments of determination and resilience, highlighting the countless hours he had spent perfecting his craft, and the sacrifices he had made to pursue his dreams.

As the stories unfolded, you gained a deeper understanding of the person Harry had become. It was clear that his artistry was not just about creating music, but about connecting with people, making them feel seen and understood. His songs had touched hearts and inspired countless individuals around the world.

Amidst the conversations, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for being part of this journey. You thought back to the early days, when you first met Harry, and how your lives had intertwined. The support and love he had shown you throughout your relationship mirrored the unwavering dedication he poured into his music.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the gathering crowd, you and Anne decided to capture a few more moments together. Fans approached, requesting photos, and you happily obliged, feeling a sense of camaraderie and unity. The shared love for Harry created an instant bond, as if you were all part of one big extended family.

The sound of laughter and excited chatter filled the air as the anticipation for the show grew. The stadium lights illuminated the night sky, casting a magical aura over the scene. You marvelled at the way music had the power to bring people together, to transcend boundaries and create a sense of belonging.

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As the lights dimmed inside Wembley Stadium, you found yourself nestled beside Harry, eagerly awaiting the performance of Madi Diaz, the talented artist who was set to be his opening act.

The air was charged with anticipation, and the energy of the crowd was palpable.

Harry had insisted that you watch her perform, even though you had watched her before, but the puppy dog eyes he provided had the deal sealed and here you were, watching from the tunnel as she performed to the fans awaiting your husband.

Taking a moment to soak in the atmosphere, you glanced at Harry, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"I can't wait to see Madi perform," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration for the talented singer.

A soft melody began to drift through the speakers, signalling the start of Madi's set.

The crowd erupted in cheers as she stepped onto the stage, her presence commanding attention.

As Madi's ethereal voice filled the stadium, you found yourself captivated by her soulful performance. Her music seemed to weave a spell, enchanting everyone in its path. The audience swayed to the rhythm, their enthusiasm growing with each passing song.

Glancing down the row, you noticed your eleven-month-old son, nestled contentedly in Harry's arms. His wide eyes reflected the vibrant lights and the pulsating energy of the crowd.

"Looks like Thames is enjoying the music too," you remarked, a fond smile gracing your lips.

Harry chuckled softly, his voice barely audible over the music. "I think he's got great taste already," he replied, his adoration for your little family evident in his eyes.

The songs flowed seamlessly, drawing you deeper into the musical journey. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for Madi's talent, knowing that she was setting the stage for Harry's own performance.

During a particularly soulful ballad, you felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you. It was the kind of music that touched your heart, reminding you of the power of melody and lyrics to evoke emotions and connect people.

As the final notes of Madi's last song resonated through the stadium, the crowd erupted in thunderous applause, expressing their appreciation for her mesmerising performance. You joined in, clapping enthusiastically, feeling a sense of unity with everyone present.

The intermission provided a brief respite before Harry's grand entrance. You took the opportunity to steal a moment alone with Harry and Thames, savouring the warmth of each other's presence.

"I'm so proud of you," you whispered, your voice filled with love and admiration. "I can't wait to see you take the stage."

“Get in this photo with me quickly, love.” Harry mused, reaching for his phone that was in his pocket of his shorts, he brought your son closer to his chest as you rested your head on his shoulder.

He did his peace sign, whilst you just smiled at the camera, Thames was too busy staring at his father to take notice of the camera clicking.

“I’m gonna send it to the group chat, tell her how much we enjoyed her set.”

What a cutie.

It wasn't long until You found yourself backstage at Wembley after watching Madi perform, in your husband's peaceful dressing room where you could tend to the needs of your precious baby boy. Harry was off talking to Sarah whilst Wet Leg took to the stage.

Settling into a comfortable chair, you cradled Thames in your arms, his tiny fingers grasping onto your shirt. A soft smile played on your lips as you looked down at him, your heart overflowing with love.

He was your everything.

The love you had for him was ever growing.

"Time for a little snack, angel baby," you whispered, gently shifting him into a position that would allow him to nurse.

His hungry cries were replaced by a contented sigh as he latched onto your breast, his tiny mouth working in rhythm with the soothing beat of his suckling.

Breastfeeding him was a good way for you to connect with him.

Feeling a sense of peace wash over you, you close your eyes, relishing the intimate connection you shared with your son. The backstage noise faded into the background, replaced by the comforting sound of Thames' soft slurping.

A gentle knock on the door interrupted the tranquillity, and you opened your eyes to see Harry's mother peeking in.

"May I come in?" she asked, her voice filled with warmth and concern.

"Of course, mama," you replied, grateful for her presence. "Thames is just having his feeding."

Anne stepped into the room, her eyes filled with tenderness as she approached you and Thames.

"He's growing so quickly," she remarked, her voice a gentle whisper. "You're doing an amazing job, dear."

A mixture of gratitude and fatigue washed over you, and you smiled wearily. "Thank you, mama. It's been a journey, but it's all worth it."

It wasn’t easy to get pregnant with your darling boy. No matter how many pregnancy tests that you seemed to take, they simply would not show the result you both desperately wanted.

But then, one morning, you got the result you had always wanted.

Anne took a seat beside you, her gaze fixed on the baby in your arms.

"It truly is," she agreed, her voice carrying the weight of experience. "The bond you're forging with him is something truly special."

As Thames nursed, you and Anne engaged in a heartfelt conversation. She shared stories of motherhood, recounting the joys and challenges she had experienced when raising Harry and his sister. Her words were a soothing balm to your weary soul, reminding you that you were not alone on this beautiful yet demanding journey.

"You're a wonderful mother, and I couldn't be prouder to have you as a part of our family," Anne said, her voice filled with genuine affection.

Touched by her words, a tear welled up in your eye. "Thank you, mama. Your support means the world to me."

As Thames finished his feeding, his eyes fluttered closed, a satisfied smile gracing his little face. You carefully cradled him against your chest, his warmth and soft breaths providing comfort.

Anne rose from her seat, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Rest up, dear. We'll be here for you every step of the way."

That was nice to hear.

With a nod of gratitude, you watched as Anne left the room, leaving behind an aura of warmth and encouragement.

Once Anne had left, Thames had slowly stopped his sucking and had closed his eyes, just as Harry had walked into the room.

You placed your angel baby in his stroller, covering him with a soft blanket and giving him his dummy before walking back over to the sofa where your husband was now sitting, legs spread wide and you plonked yourself down on his lap, legs straddling his waist.

“What’re you doing?” He asked you as his breath hitched in his throat, the feeling of you sat on his lap never failed to get him excited.

“I know for a fact that you're nervous about performing here tonight,” You told him, smiling at him as you pushed some of his curls off of his forehead. “So I thought I’d help you see as Thames has gone down for his nap.”

“And how can you help me?”

“I thought we could have a little makeout session,” You shrugged your shoulders. “Just like we used to do when we first met, it can take your mind off of things.”

As soon as those words left your mouth, his lips were stuck onto yours. The kisses started out soft before they slowly built up their speed.

He slipped his tongue gently inside your mouth after you granted him access and it had you moaning slightly at the feeling.

His kisses never failed to make you weak.

You tugged on his curls to bring his face closer to yours, and this time he was the one to let out a moan at your actions.

He was the first one to pull away and moved his hands down so that they were grabbing at your arse, making you squeal slightly.

“God I love you.”

You took a look at his swollen lips before pressing one last peck to them. “And I adore you.”

There was nothing like a little backstage make out session at Wembley Stadium.

▌║ ▊ ┃ ▌▕ ▌║ ▊ ┃ ▌ ▕ ▌║ ▊ ┃ ▌▕

It wasn’t long before Harry made his way onto the stage.

You stood near the side of the stage, so that Harry could see you and his family at all times. Thames was fast asleep in your arms, ear protectors over his ears so that the loud music did not affect his hearing.

As the lights dimmed inside the grand arena, a collective hush fell over the crowd.

Excitement crackled in the air, anticipation palpable as everyone waited for the moment they had been eagerly awaiting. You found yourself among the thousands of devoted fans, heart pounding in your chest.

Suddenly, the stage erupted in a burst of dazzling lights, and a surge of electricity coursed through the audience. The unmistakable sound of Harry's voice resonated through the speakers, sending waves of euphoria through every fibre of your being.

"He's here!" you heard someone exclaim in front of you to the person beside them, unable to contain therejoy. "Harry here!"

The roar of the crowd intensified, the air filled with a fusion of deafening screams, heartfelt cheers, and unabashed adoration.

The energy was electric, a testament to the unwavering support and love of Harry's fans.

As the opening notes of his first song reverberated through the stadium, the crowd erupted into a chorus of elation.

You joined in, your voice blending with the voices of thousands, all singing along to the lyrics that had touched their hearts and souls.

Daydreaming was a banger.

The atmosphere became a symphony of emotions—a mix of tears, laughter, and sheer awe. Every fan's face was illuminated by the radiant glow of the stage, their eyes fixated on the mesmerising sight before them.

"He's even more incredible in person," a fan exclaimed, her voice filled with wonder. "I can't believe I'm witnessing this moment!"

Neither could you.

Around you, fans were captured in a collective trance, their attention solely focused on the man who had captured their hearts. The connection between artist and audience was undeniable, an unbreakable bond that transcended time and distance.

"I've been waiting for this my whole life," someone whispered, their voice filled with a mixture of reverence and gratitude. "It's a dream come true."

The air was thick with raw emotion, an outpouring of love and appreciation for the music that had become the soundtrack to countless lives. It was a shared experience, a moment of unity where strangers become allies, connected by their devotion to Harry and his art.

As Harry's voice soared, filling the stadium with its power and vulnerability, you felt an overwhelming sense of pride. This was the moment you had been waiting for—to witness the impact of his talent on such a grand scale.

"He's a legend," a fan declared, her voice filled with conviction. "And we're all here to witness his greatness."

The cheers echoed, reverberating through the walls of the stadium, as Harry commanded the stage with his magnetic presence. The fans were transfixed, caught in a whirlwind of emotions, their admiration for him radiating from every corner of the venue.

In that moment, as the music swelled and the crowd erupted in applause, you realised the power of unity and shared passion. Harry had created a world where strangers become friends, where music brought people together, and where the magic of his performance created an unbreakable bond.

The night had been amazing so far, that was until Harry had decided to start singing ‘Fine Line’.

He had not told you that he would be performing this, it was a shock to not only you but the whole stadium.

The song had a special meaning to the two of you, he had written it when the two of you were going through a bad patch in your relationship.

‘Put a price on emotion, I’m looking for something buy’

You stood in the dimly lit living room, the tense silence enveloping the air like a suffocating fog. Harry, your husband of ten years, stood across from you, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. The lines etched on his face told a story of countless arguments and sleepless nights. This was just another page in the tumultuous novel of your relationship.

"I can't keep doing this, (Y/N)," Harry said, his voice strained. "We need to figure out a way to move forward."

You clenched your fists, struggling to keep your emotions in check. "Move forward? How can we move forward when you're never here? When every word we exchange feels like a transaction?"

He sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "It's not about money, Sarah. It's about providing for our family, giving them the life they deserve."

Your heart ached at the mention of your children, the innocent casualties of your constant clashes. "I don't want you to buy me things, Harry. I want you to be here. I want you to listen, to understand."

Harry's frustration boiled over, his voice tinged with bitterness. "I work day and night to give you everything, to provide stability. Isn't that enough?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. "No, Harry, it's not enough. I want your time, your presence. I want to feel like a priority, not just someone you provide for."

You and Harry had gone through a tough bout in your relationship, you had got engaged four months ago and ever since then it was as if Harry was never there.

You felt alone.

You just needed his love and affection.

‘You’ve got my devotion but man I can hate you sometimes,’

He had forgotten date night:

Again.

"I just don't understand, Harry," you said, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. "You have my unwavering love and loyalty, but there are moments when I can't help but despise you."

He stared back at you, his brows furrowing as he searched for an explanation. "I never intended to hurt you. I thought I was doing what was best for us."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, laced with a touch of disdain. "Your version of 'what's best' seems to conveniently align with your own desires. What about considering my feelings, my needs?"

Harry's face contorted with a mix of guilt and confusion. "I never meant to disregard you, I promise. But sometimes I get so wrapped up in my own world that I forget to take a step back and see how it affects you."

You shook your head, feeling the weight of disappointment pressing down upon you. "Forgetting is one thing, Harry, but repeatedly making the same mistakes is another. It's hard to believe that my devotion to you is reciprocated when I constantly feel neglected."

His eyes softened, a glimmer of understanding creeping into his gaze. "I don't want you to feel that way, I truly don't. I need to do better, to be more aware of the impact my actions have on our relationship."

A mixture of frustration and sadness welled up inside you, threatening to overflow. "Words are empty if they're not followed by actions, Harry. I need tangible proof that you value our bond, that you're willing to fight for it."

‘I don’t want to fight you, I don’t want to sleep in the dirt’

The air was heavy with the weight of unspoken apologies, regrets, and unmet expectations.

Everything was turning to shit.

"I don't want to be at odds with you, Harry," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of anguish and longing. "I don't want our love to be reduced to this constant battle."

He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, his voice filled with a tinge of desperation. "Neither do I. I hate the way we hurt each other, the way we tear each other apart."

A sigh escaped your lips as you stared into his eyes, searching for a flicker of understanding. "Then why do we keep finding ourselves in this never-ending cycle? Why can't we find common ground?"

Harry's gaze dropped to the ground, the weight of his admission evident in his slumped shoulders. "I don't have all the answers, love. But I know that I don't want to sleep in this metaphorical dirt. I want us to find a way out of this darkness."

‘We’ll get the drinks in so I’ll get to thinking of her’

You found yourself entangled in yet another heated argument with Harry. The atmosphere was tense, thick with unspoken frustrations and mounting anger. Each word felt like a dagger, piercing the fragile fabric of your relationship.

"We always find a way to escape, don't we?" you muttered, your voice tinged with bitterness. "But in the midst of our indulgence, do you ever think of her?"

Her.

The name of the girl who dated Harry before you, the name of the girl who he had to do part of a show with:

Kendall Jenner.

Harry's expression tightened, his eyes clouded with defensiveness. "I'm trying to forget, to let go of the past. Why can't we focus on our present?"

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, laced with a tinge of resentment. "The present is tainted, Harry. How can we move forward when the past still haunts our every interaction?"

He took a step closer, frustration etched upon his face. "I made mistakes, but I'm here, trying to make amends. Can't you see that?"

You looked away, struggling to hold back tears that threatened to spill over. "I see your efforts, Harry, but it's hard to ignore the scars left behind. The wounds run deep."

His voice wavered, a mix of pleading and remorse. "I want to heal those wounds, to build a future together. Can't we leave the past where it belongs?"

‘We’ll be a fine line’

The room echoed with the weight of unspoken words, a battlefield of emotions waiting to be unleashed.

"I don't know if we can find our way back from this," you said, your voice laced with a sorrowful tone. "We've reached a breaking point, Harry."

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of desperation and determination. "I refuse to believe that. We've faced challenges before, and we've come out stronger. We can do it again."

A bitter smile tugged at your lips. "But what if this time is different? What if we've crossed that invisible line, and there's no going back?"

Harry's voice cracked, his voice pleading. "We'll find a way. We have to. Our love is worth fighting for."

Tears welled up in your eyes, the ache in your heart threatening to consume you. "Love isn't always enough, Harry. We need more than just words. We need understanding, trust, and a solid foundation to build upon."

He reached out, his hand hovering in the air as if searching for an anchor. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I don't want to lose you."

A heavy silence settled between you, filled with the weight of unspoken fears and doubts. The fine line between hope and despair seemed more fragile than ever. You looked into Harry's eyes, searching for a glimmer of the love that had once bound you together.

"But what if we're just fooling ourselves?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. "What if we're destined to be nothing more than a shattered line, forever separated?"

‘Test of my patience, there’s things that we’ll never know’

"I can't do this anymore, Harry," you said, your voice strained with a mix of weariness and disappointment. "Our arguments have become a constant test of my patience."

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his furrowed brows. "I never wanted it to come to this. But there are things we'll never know, no matter how hard we try."

A bitter chuckle escaped your lips, tinged with a touch of resignation. "It's those unknowns that weigh on me, Harry. They eat away at the foundation of our relationship."

Harry's eyes searched yours, a hint of desperation shining through. "I wish I had all the answers, but I'm just as lost as you are. All I know is that I don't want to lose you."

A surge of anger coursed through you, mixed with the ache of unmet expectations. "Saying you don't want to lose me is not enough, Harry. We need to confront these uncertainties together, to find a way to bridge the gaps that separate us."

His voice softened, a glimmer of remorse crossing his features. "I understand your frustration. I'm willing to work on it, to find a way to navigate these uncharted territories."

‘You sunshine you temptress, my hands at risk, I fold’

"You always have a way of shining light into my darkest moments, Harry," you spat out, your voice laden with both admiration and frustration. "But sometimes, that light blinds me, blurring the lines of what's right and wrong."

Harry's eyes flashed with a mix of bewilderment and defiance. "I never intended to lead you astray. I'm drawn to you like a moth to a flame, but my intentions are not always clear."

A sharp pang of hurt coursed through you, the realization of the risks at hand sinking in. "You temptress, Harry. With your charm and charisma, you lure me in, but the consequences of your actions leave me vulnerable."

He stepped closer, his voice pleading, yet tinged with regret. "I never wanted to put you in harm's way. But my hand is shaky, and sometimes, I make mistakes that hurt us both."

Anger flared within you, the frustration of being caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "I can't keep playing this game with you, Harry. My heart is at risk, and I'm tired of constantly folding under the weight of uncertainty."

Harry's gaze softened, remorse evident in his eyes. "I understand your weariness, your need for stability. But please know that my intentions are rooted in love, even if they are imperfect."

You knew that he loved you.

There was no doubt about it.

His love was the one thing that never failed to grow, but your constant trust issues always made it hard to actually see what was happening right in front of you.

You had the perfect man and yet you couldn’t help but wish you didn’t deserve it.

‘Crop’s trepidation, I’ll try to shake this soon’

Tension hung heavy in the air as you found yourself caught in yet another argument with Harry, your husband. The room felt suffocating, suffused with a palpable unease that mirrored the crisp trepidation running through your veins. Emotions clashed, sending tremors through the fragile foundation of your relationship.

"I can't keep living like this, Harry," you exclaimed, your voice tinged with frustration. "The constant arguments, the uncertainty, it's eating away at me."

Harry's face hardened, his jaw set in determination. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying to change. I can't shake the feeling that I'm losing you."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, laced with a touch of resignation. "Trying isn't enough, Harry. I need more than just words. I need actions that reflect the promises you make."

He took a step closer, his voice filled with a mix of pleading and remorse. "I don't want to lose you either. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right."

And he did everything he could.

Hence the reason you were Mrs.Styles.

‘Spreading you open, is the only way of knowing you’

"I don't understand why you keep shutting me out, Harry," you exclaimed, frustration evident in your voice. "How can I truly know you if you're not willing to be open with me?"

Harry's face tightened, his eyes clouded with a mix of apprehension and fear. "Being open is not easy for me. I have my own demons, my own insecurities that I struggle with."

You took a step closer, desperation lacing your words. "I get that, Harry. But shutting me out only creates distance between us. We need to be able to share our fears, our vulnerabilities, to truly connect."

He sighed, the weight of his guardedness palpable. "I've been hurt before, and it's hard for me to let my guard down. But I don't want to lose you either."

You knew he had trust issues.

You both did.

But at the time, you were his fiancé and he just wouldn’t tell you about what was bothering him.

It was if you didn’t exist to him.

‘We’ll be alright’

Voices escalated, emotions intensified, and it seemed like the world around you was crumbling. But within the chaos, a glimmer of hope lingered.

"I can't believe you said that, Harry!" you exclaimed, frustration etched on your face. "How could you think I would ever do something like that?"

He ran a hand through his hair, a mix of remorse and desperation in his eyes. "I'm sorry, love. I let my insecurities get the best of me. I never meant to doubt you."

Anger simmered within you, but love fought its way to the surface. "We've been through so much together, Harry. Can't you see that? We're supposed to trust each other, support each other."

Harry's voice softened, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "You're right, sweetheart. I've let my fears cloud my judgment. I know deep down that you would never betray me."

Tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of sadness and relief washing over you. "I just want us to be okay, Harry. I want us to trust each other and be there for one another."

He reached out and gently cupped your face, his touch comforting and reassuring. "We will be okay, love. We'll work through this, together. I'll do everything I can to make things right."

Everything did turn out alright.

You were at a party with the rest of the band and had been chatted up by some random man that you had never seen before.

Harry was drunk, and instantly accused you of trying it on with another man, making you realise that everything with Harry wasn’t all that it seemed.

You hadn’t realised that you were crying until you felt Gemma wrapping an arm around your shoulder and wiping away the tears that fell down to cheeks.

So many arguments between the man you loved and you was what caused the song to be written, and as much as it pained you, it needed to be done.

Arguments over petty little things.

You getting jealous due to the fact he was working with his ex, who was insanely pretty.

Hun forgetting date night again and again.

So many stupid little things led to the two of you almost ending things for good.

The family knew how important this song was to not only you but Harry, and hearing him singing it live always hit different:

But it felt a lot more different to see him performing it at Wembley.

You’ll always be alright.

▌║ ▊ ┃ ▌▕ ▌║ ▊ ┃ ▌ ▕ ▌║ ▊ ┃ ▌▕

As the final notes of the Kiwi faded into the air, you stood backstage, a proud smile adorning your face.

Your heart swelled with joy as you anticipated seeing your husband, after his electrifying performance. In your arms, your eleven-month-old still, slept soundly, soft snores falling from his parted lips, he looked just like his father when he slept, unaware of the excitement unfolding around him.

The backstage area was a whirlwind of activity as crew members rushed about, dismantling the stage and packing up equipment. But amidst the chaos, you patiently waited for Harry, knowing that your presence would provide the anchor he needed in the midst of the commotion.

Finally, you spotted him, his tall figure emerging from the crowd of people.

The moment his eyes locked with yours, everything else seemed to fade away. He grinned, his dimples deepening, as he made his way towards you.

"Hey, beautiful," Harry mused, his voice filled with warmth and exhaustion. He carefully brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. "Did you enjoy the show?"

"You were amazing, sweet boy!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with admiration. "The crowd absolutely loved you."

He chuckled, a hint of modesty in his tone. "Thank you, love. I'm glad they enjoyed it. But you're the one I perform for, you know."

Gently rocking Thames in your arms, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Harry's lips. "We're so proud of you, Daddy. You're the best."

Harry's eyes softened as he gazed at his sleeping son. "And I'm the luckiest man alive to have you and Thames by my side."

As the backstage area began to clear, Harry took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. "Shall we head home, love? It's been a long day."

Nothing seemed better than climbing into your bed right now.

Together, you made your way towards the waiting car, hand in hand. The familiar routine of packing up and departing after a show had become second nature to you both.

The cool night air brushed against your skin as you settled Thames into his car seat, ensuring his comfort and safety.

As you climbed into the back seat next to Harry, exhaustion from the day began to wash over you. Resting your head on his shoulder, you sighed contentedly. "I'm so grateful for these moments, Harry. Our little family, together."

Harry wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. "Me too, love. These are the moments I live for."

You looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Hey, Harry, remember when we used to go on spontaneous adventures?"

He chuckled, his eyes lighting up with a playful gleam. "Oh, I remember. Those were some of the best times. What's on your mind, love?"

You had gone to paris,

Flown to Italy where he proposed,

Taken a trip to Amsterdam to place a padlock on the iconic bridge,

And had even flown to New York to see Beyoncé in concert.

A smile danced on your lips as you began sharing your idea. "Well, Thames is growing up so fast, and I was thinking, maybe it's time we start creating some fun memories with him too. What do you think about taking a family trip when tours over? Maybe we could spend some time in Italy or something like that or even in Holmes Chapel?”

Harry's face lit up with excitement, mirroring your own. "That sounds amazing, love! Any other suggestions? We could travel wherever our heart desires?”

You paused for a moment, pondering the possibilities. "How about a beach getaway? We can build sandcastles, splash in the waves, and introduce Noah to the joy of the ocean."

Harry's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "I love that idea! The beach has always been a special place for us, and I can't wait to share that with our angel baby."

The car continued to carry you home, but your thoughts were already whisked away to the anticipation of the family adventure that awaited. With each passing mile, you and Harry excitedly discussed the details of the trip—finding the perfect beach destination, planning activities for Thames, and envisioning the joy on his face as he experienced the wonders of the seaside.

As the car pulled into the driveway, you exchanged a knowing smile. The seed of a beautiful family memory had been planted, and the anticipation filled the air with a delightful energy.

One thing was for sure.

Harry was home.

380 notes · View notes

heartateasee · 18 days

Text

“Chapter One”

Word Count: 6.7k

(Chapter one to “Cherry Bomb” - please make sure to read the TW on the “Cherry Bomb” masterlist before proceeding.)

●・○・●・○・●

Sitting in my makeup chair, I stare at myself in the vanity mirror. The bright bulbs surrounding it are causing me to squint a bit. My usual hair stylist wasn't able to make it out to LA for this show, and I wasn't upset about that. She had a family emergency, and for me, friends and family came before anything for those around me. The woman behind me, whose name I learned was Lisa, was just finishing up the curls she was putting into my hair. She was middle aged from what I could see, and she could style the hell out of some hair. I had just gotten my wolf cut shaped for this specific show since it was the last one of my current tour, and she couldn't stop complimenting me on how much it suited me.

After this, I will be taking a break to work on a new album here in LA. I've purchased a house and had a recording installed so that I'll be able to work there instead of traveling around. Although my parents didn't live here anymore, this was still the place I considered home. I left almost two years ago when I got signed to my record label, and it's been almost three years since I've actually been back.

As much as I had tried to deny it, there was a part of me that had avoided LA on the two other tours I've gone on before this one. I wasn't ready to face the people here who knew me, and most of all, I don't know how I would act if I were to see him.

I went through a few years of therapy to get over the emotional turmoil I went through after Harry and I's friendship ended. It was necessary. I avoided human contact with anyone but my parents for almost a whole year because of it, and I finally took the step at finding a therapist - forcing myself to make the appointments for a few months until I actually started to look forward to it.

It's been almost a year since the last appointment with my therapist, the both of us deciding that I no longer needed to be seen on a monthly basis as I had been. We agreed that I could reach out to her when needed, and she assured me that she would be available any day and any time.

"Alright, since I'm finished with your hair, I'm gonna go grab your girl to finish up your makeup, okay?" Lisa asks, and I give her a nod.

"Yes, thank you so much for doing this last minute. I really appreciate you."

"Of course, sweetheart."

She gives me a squeeze to my shoulder as she exits the room, and I sigh as I grab my pack of cigarettes off the vanity. I slip one between my lips, lighting it up as I stare at myself in the mirror once again. It looks like the only things I have left for my makeup is eyeshadow, lashes and lips, and I know those won't take too long since the base of everything is already set.

I take a drag of my cigarette, flicking the ash into the tray in front of me. Pulling my bottom lip through my teeth, I keep the stick between my fingers as I rub the tip of my thumb over one of my brows out of stress.

There were going to be people here tonight that I haven't seen in years. I knew that by keeping my real name instead of choosing a stage name that as soon as I decided to come home that it would bring attention. I wasn't famous on a large scale by any means, but I did have a decent following, and this current tour has opened a lot of new doors for me.

I had invited Mikey and Kailey considering I'd kept up with them pretty regularly over the years, but they both were busy tonight with their jobs. I've actually flown the both of them out to a few shows, and at first I was worried that the both of them would be offended that I got a whole new band to back me up instead of them, but they understood why I didn't. That would feel too much like having the band without him, and that was just something I couldn't ever bring myself to do.

I've only ever brought him up once, and it was to Kailey after the third show I flew her out to. She said she wanted to talk to me about it as well, but she didn't know how to bring it up. He was still in the area, that was for sure from things that Kailey had heard, but she had only ever seen him twice since everything happened.

The first time was at a gas station and he was grabbing a pack of cigarettes, however, he didn't see her. The second time was at a house party she was invited to, and Harry was just showing up as she was leaving. She told me that he was already pretty drunk from what she could tell, and they made eye contact, but he immediately looked away and kept making his way into the party. She told me that Mikey hasn't heard or seen him at all.

"Sorry, sorry, I was finishing my dinner."

I'm brought out of my thoughts as I see Christy, my makeup artist, come rounding in front of me. "Okay, so just a few things left, Marls," she says, eyes scanning over my face before giving herself a nod.

I take a few more quick drags of my cigarette before snuffing it out.

Christy begins to apply some primer to my lids before shuffling through some of the palettes she brought with her. "Since your outfit is a dark creme and black color scheme, I think I'm going to go with a darker lid, what do you think?"

"Yeah, yeah," I nod, clearing my throat before looking back at myself in the mirror. "That sounds good to me. I trust you, you always take care of me."

Christy stands back in front of me and sends me a smile as I close my eyes, allowing her to work her magic. My hands were slightly clutching to the arms of the makeup chair as I felt the bristles of the makeup brush on my lids.

It's quiet between the two of us for a while before Christy speaks up. "You're a little more nervous than I'm used to seeing," she comments. "Are you nervous about potentially seeing..."

Christy has been my makeup artist for the last two and half years, and within that time, I've opened up to her a lot about things in my personal life. Other than my manager, she's probably the person I confide in the most while on the road, and sometimes even off of it. I try my best not to bother either of them when we're taking a break from touring, and they're back at home with their families, but both of them have assured me time and time again that I'm not doing that when I reach out.

"A little bit, yeah," I confess, licking over my bottom lip. "But I also don't think that he'll come. He probably doesn't even remember at this point."

I can hear Christy sigh, and I feel the brush fall from my skin for a moment. My eyes flutter open to see her staring down at me - head tilted to the side.

"Now you and I both know that you don't actually believe that for a second."

Scowling slightly, I cross my arms and slouch in my chair. "No, I don't. You have to understand that it's easier for me to think that way though than to think he does remember me, and that he hasn't reached out at all."

"Trust me, I definitely get that," Christy says with a nod, and I close my eyes again to let her continue. "But I also don't think it's completely fair to yourself to just say he's forgotten you. I highly doubt that he has."

"Who knows at this point though? Literally no one I still speak to has actually talked to him. I have nothing to go on."

Christy remains silent as she finishes my eye makeup, and she continues to not speak as she applies my lashes. I'm sure she's stopped speaking on the subject to keep me from getting even more nervous than I already am.

As she starts to work on my red lips, I see the door open in the mirror.

"You have fifteen minutes before you're on, Marlowe," Lys, my manager, says as she pokes her head into my dressing room. "Do you need any help getting into your dress?"

I shake my head once Christy pulls the lip product she was using away for a moment to give me a chance to respond. "No, I've got it. Thank you though."

Lys nods, but instead of stepping out, she makes her way into the room, standing behind me as Christy finishes up on my lips. She places her hands on my shoulders, massaging them softly as we make eye contact through the mirror.

"You've got this. I know this is your first hometown show, and that it probably feels extremely stressful for you right now, but just remember what you always say before each and every show - you won't be able to see past at least the fourth row because of the lights, these people are here to see you because they already love your music, and you wouldn't be up on that stage to begin with if you weren't immensely talented."

Christy moves away for a moment, before she stands back in front of me with some setting spray. I close my eyes and feel the product misting my skin, and then I feel air fanning against it as Christy dries it by waving her hands in front of my face.

"All done, and looking as beautiful as ever," she says, reaching down to grab my hands.

With the both of them making contact with me, it does help me ground myself a little bit. I shut my eyes and take in a deep breath as I give Christy's hands a squeeze.

"Thank you guys so much, seriously," I tell them, blinking my eyes back open. I shift in my chair a bit so I can look at the both of them, Lys moving both of her hands to drape over one of my shoulders. "I don't know what I would do without the both of you."

"Crash and burn, probably is what I'd say, " Lys says with a shrug, looking over to Christy. "What do you think?"

"Oh absolutely," Christy agrees with a nod.

I roll my eyes before popping up out of my chair, walking over to my dressing room door. Gripping the doorknob on my hand, I gesture my other hand through the door frame.

"Now, if you lovely ladies would be so kind, I have to get changed," I tell them.

Lys sticks her tongue out at me playfully as Christy gathers her makeup supplies, and they both file out of the room. I strip off the robe I had been wearing, leaving me in just my bra and underwear underneath.

Making my way over to the hanger on the rack, I pull off the fishnets that were hanging through the middle of it and pull them onto my legs with a pair of black cheeky shorts over them - just in case my dress flies up for any reason on stage. I slip on my dress after that, thankful that the zipper was on the side so I could actually manage this myself.

It wasn't that I didn't want the help, but I just needed some silence before going out on that stage. Things never end well for me if it tends to get too loud, and I had a fear of that happening if I didn't give myself some alone time tonight.

After I sit down on the couch, I pull on the shoes that have multiple buckles that go up my legs - which stop right underneath my knees. I shove my hands into my half pleather gloves, clenching and unclenching my fingers to get a good feel of how much mobility I had in them. I stand up and walk over to the full length mirror in my room - giving myself a good once over.

I slip my eyes shut after a moment, rolling my head from side to side on my shoulders while shaking out my arms a bit.

Beginning to pace around my room, I start my vocal exercises - tapping my fingers slightly to the beat that I was pacing myself at. My eyes meet the clock on the wall, and I know that it's time.

I make my way over the door, and I open it before making my way towards the stage.

"Oh! I was just coming to get you," Lys says cheerfully as she begins to walk beside me, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together. "I'm so proud of you, Marlowe, you have no idea."

We make our way to the steps that lead to where I'm needed next, and she stops us. I look down at her, and I can see tears glazing over her eyes.

"I mean that," she says, speaking over the cheers that are flooding through from the crowd. "I know how much it took for you to get here to be able to play this show, and I hope you're just as proud of yourself as I am of you. You're remarkable, and now you get to show the city where you came from just how remarkable you are as well."

Pursing my lips to the side, I do my best not to cry as I quickly wrap my arms around Lys, pulling her in for a hug. "Fuck you for almost making me cry before I go out there," I joke with a laugh, and I hear her give one back to me as her hands run up and down my back.

We pull away after a moment, and she begins to wipe under her eyes.

"Go, go! I'll be right off to the side if you need me, but I know you won't. You're going to be so wonderful."

Smiling, I give her a nod before making my way to the steps, encasing one of the rails in my hand. I watch as my band enters in from the steps on the other side of the stage, and they take their positions. They begin to play my intro song, and I nod my head to beat to try and get myself into the zone.

On stage, I'm more than just Marlowe Finch. On stage, I'm Marlowe Finch, the singer.

Once a certain beat hits, I race up the steps and onto the stage, the volume from the crowd increasing entirely as I walk the front of the surface. This was a smaller venue, so it was easy for the sound to fill the place, but I was honestly surprised at just how many people were here. I could tell there were people lined up from wall to wall, and the crowd extended all the way into the back towards the front door.

I can feel the large smile taking over my features as I make my way back into the middle of the stage towards my mic stand.

"LA, how are we feeling?" I call out, and the crowd begins to go wild again after just starting to calm down. "Well, you beautiful fucking people, I hope you came here to have a good time because that's what I intend on giving you. Did you guys come here to have a good time?"

I can hear the crowd yell back 'yeah' to me, and I laugh outside of the microphone before letting it meet my lips again. "I said, did you guys come here to have a good time?"

They yell back again even louder than before, and I nod. "Well let's start this damn party, shall we?"

●・○・●・○・●

My chest heaves as I finish my second to the last song. I turn to face my band, sending them all a huge smile, and they're sending me one right back. I turn back to the crowd, and I can feel a lump growing in my throat.

"You guys have been so incredible. I can't thank you enough," I tell them genuinely as I rest my hand against my chest. "I haven't played a hometown show in my time as an artist for various reasons, but I've finally found the strength within myself to do it, and you guys have given me a show even greater than I ever hoped. So thank you, to each and every one of you for making this night so special."

"I'm going to be taking a bit of a break to work on my first full album - not just an EP. Can you all believe that?" I ask, and the crowd cheers. "And it wouldn't be possible without all of you, truly. For this last song I'm going to sing, it's the only completed song I have so far for the new album. It's extremely personal to me, and I didn't know if I was going to play it tonight, but you guys have been so great to me. This is my gift to you. Thank you guys again."

Once more I turn to my band, and my guitarist, Garrett, lifts his eyebrows at me. I know that they all have to be surprised that I'm choosing to sing this song, but it feels right tonight. I give him a nod, and he begins to strum the chords for the introduction of the song.

After a while, the drums start as well, and I close my eyes tight as I keep my back to the audience. I listen to the music surrounding me and I tell myself that this is the moment for me to finally sing this - the most personal song I've written so far. I can hear that it's almost time for me to start singing, and I turn back to the crowd as I cup the microphone on the stand in both of my hands.

"Down to you. You're pushin' and pullin' me down to you, But I don't know what I-"

The song immediately goes into the chorus, and I find myself shutting my eyes again - shying away from the crowd for the first time tonight.

"Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that I should've never thought. Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that I should've never thought of you."

I hesitantly open my eyes, and I can see the crowd nodding their heads and swaying to the sound of the beat. That gives me a little more reassurance, and I feel a small smile twitch onto my lips as I watch them.

"Of you - you're pushin' and pullin' me down to you. But I don't know what I want. No, I don't know what I want."

Taking the microphone off the stand, I walk towards the front of the crowd and lean down, making eye contact with a few people as I sing the next verse.

"You got it, you got it - some kind of magic. Hypnotic, hypnotic - you're leaving me breathless I hate this. I hate this. You're not the one I believe in - with God as my witness."

The band leads me into the next chorus which then fades into the slower bridge, and I stop in the middle of the stage. I extend one of my hands over my head as I feel the music, and I begin to snake my body around while I sing out the next words.

"Don't know what I want, but I know it's not you. Keep pushin' and pullin' me down - when I know, in my heart, it's not you."

The song remains slower until the band kicks in heavy once again for the last chorus, and I quickly grab the microphone out of the middle of the stage, tossing it to the side, as myself, Garrett, and my bassist, Alice, begin to head bang.

"Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that I should've never thought. Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that-"

I slam down onto my knees on the stage, my dress long enough to cover me as it sit back slightly on my heels, and I press the palm of my hand not holding the microphone down onto the stage between my thighs as I belt out the last few lines of the song.

"I should've never thought of you. I knew. I know, in my heart, it's not you. I knew. But now, I know what I want, I want, I want. Oh, no, I should've never thought!"

Sucking in air to catch my breath, I keep myself in the position for a while. I didn't even realize that I had tears streaming down my cheeks, my eyes now burning from the sensation as my bottom lip trembles. I know my hair is covering me from the audience so they're not able to see how emotional I've become.

In order to distract the crowd a bit, the band begins to play the beginning of the song again, and I know they're doing it to stall - to help me recuperate, and give a proper end to my set.

Only a few more seconds go by before I push myself off the ground, and I lift my other hand to move my curls out of my face as I hold the microphone to my lips.

"You've been truly magical, LA," I compliment them, and I know that my tears are gone from my cheeks. I just hope that it hasn't been obvious that I've been crying. "Hopefully I'll be seeing you again really soon. Thank you again, get home safely, and have a good night!"

I begin to blow kisses to them and wave as I start towards the steps I had entered on, and I quickly feel an arm wrap around mine.

"Believe me when I say that was your best performance yet!" Lys squeals, leaning over to press her lips against my cheek, her hold tightening on my right arm as she does so. "I can't believe you played the song. They loved it, Marlowe."

Lys has set it up for me to sign a few things against a side barricade before heading back tonight, and I was more than okay with that. They start leading me towards backstage again, and the way the stage was set up, I have to walk a bit onto the main floor before entering the backstage door. There's a railing blocking me from everyone, and I move a bit closer to Lys as fans start screaming my name - extending copies of my EP for me to sign.

My eyes widen, and I stop to greet them. I sign the items and give them back, all while thanking each person for coming tonight, and for supporting me. Once I reach the end of the line, the main floor is practically cleared out, and we start towards the door.

"Marlowe," I hear my name, and I feel a hand brush against the top of my left arm.

I immediately flinch away and look over at the individual as the security behind us begins to block me from them. Looking away, I start towards the door again before I freeze - realizing the set of ivy colored eyes my blue ones had just been met with.

"Honey, come on," I know Lys is speaking to me, but her voice sounds far away as I turn to look at the person who is calling my name once again.

All the air gets pushed from my lungs when I see who it is, and my knees just about give out on me. He's dressed in a pair of tight black jeans with a pastel floral button-up. The top few buttons are undone to reveal the swallows I knew so well in addition to the antennas of the butterfly that adorns the top of his stomach.

"Harry," I breathe, and he gives me a nod.

It's then that I realize his hair is longer - much longer than the last time I've seen him. He lifts a hand to run through the front of it, pushing it out of his face, but he never averts his gaze from mine.

"No fucking way," I hear Lys whisper behind me, and she quickly gives my arm another squeeze. "Let's go, Marlowe. I'll have security see him out."

Shaking my head, I pull my arm away from her, and now I'm completely turning to face him.

"What do you want?" I ask him - my tone coming out more aggressive than I thought, and I've even surprised myself with that.

"Can we talk?"

Every fiber of my being tells me that I should tell him no. That I should just send him away, and that I don't owe him a thing for the years of turmoil he's put me through. But now that he's here in front of me, and I know he hasn't actually forgotten who I am, I want nothing more than to hear his voice for more than just a few seconds.

"You want to talk?" My eyebrows narrow, and I can feel one of my hands clenching into a fist by my side.

"That's what I asked, isn't it?"

"Alright, that's enough," Lys' voice cuts in, and I feel her wrap her arm around my chest as she starts to steer me towards the backstage area again. "Come on, let's get you changed and home."

"No," I tell her, and we stop again as I tilt my head towards the door - eyes still on Harry. "If you wanna talk, let's talk."

Harry peers at the security guard that just slightly towers over him as he makes his way around the barricade that was completely separating him from us. I swallow harshly as we start towards my dressing room, and Lys opens the door - following me inside.

"Marlowe, I don't know if this is such a good-"

"Look, Lys, I appreciate it, I do, and I understand why you would be hesitant to let me do this, but with the progress I've made - I feel like I need to," I explain, and I watch her nibble on the inside of her cheek before looking over her shoulder at Harry who was now also entering the room. "I have my phone on me, okay? If I need you, I'll call."

"Okay," she sighs, shaking her head in defeat when she knows that I'm going through with this. "Do you want me to leave one of the security guys outside of the door?"

I can't help but smirk softly at her proposition. "I'm okay, but thank you for offering."

Nodding, she starts out of the room, but she stops and looks at Harry. "I swear to god, if I get a phone call from her in the next five minutes and she's crying, I'll find out where you live, and I'll make sure that-"

"Lys!" I say, and she quickly makes eye contact with me as I raise my eyebrows.

"Right, sorry," she mumbles before heading out of the room.

Silence takes over, and I keep my eyes off of Harry as I walk over to my vanity. I grab the ashtray off the surface, as well as my pack of cigarettes, before I head over to the couch - plopping myself down on it. I stick a cigarette between my teeth to hold it stable as I lean down and begin to undo the buckles of my shoes. Once I have them undone, I toss both of them to the side, and I pluck the lighter out of my pack.

I quickly light the cigarette before leaning back into the couch a bit, one leg crossed over the other. In the time that I had taken my shoes off, I didn't notice that Harry had grabbed one of the fold up metal chairs that had been leaning up against the wall. He set it up right across from me, only the coffee table really separating the two of us.

Unfortunately, I find myself in a bit of a trance as I see him fish his own pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his jeans. He flips the lid and brings it up to his mouth, pulling one of the sticks out with his teeth. His eyes flip up to meet mine as he grabs his lighter and sparks it - heart shaped lips immediately closing down around the filter, and I watch the end glow orange.

We both pull the cigarettes from our mouths at the same time, and I tilt my head up to blow the smoke towards the ceiling, but his head remains level with his sight still set on me.

It only takes a few more seconds before we let our eyes journey down each other's bodies, and although I had taken him in out on the main floor, it was like I was doing it for the first time all over again. My head could hardly wrap around the fact that he no longer had some sort of bandana trapped inside his curls, and I could tell with the way his sleeves were rolled up to the creases of his elbows that he had gotten more tattoos over the years.

I'm sure I looked different to him too. My hair was now dark brown, almost black, instead of blonde. My body had truly formed into a woman, causing me to have thicker thighs and a fuller bust. Although my dress covered all of my chest, I knew he could still see the curve to my breasts. He cleared his throat once his eyes made it down to my legs that were still crossed, and he leaned forward to ash his cigarette into the tray.

"So you made it, huh?" He asks, licking over his bottom lip before taking another drag. "You did the whole music thing?"

I scoff slightly, and I can't help but roll my eyes at his statement. "Well, yeah, it was always my dream - my end goal. Just wish that..."

Trailing off, I decide not to finish my sentence as I shake my head. "Doesn't matter," I mumble softly. "What about you? Do you play anymore?

"Well, it would be hard to play considering your parents sold my drumset when they moved out of their home, but even then I wouldn't have wanted it. I still listen to music, but I could never see myself playing again like I did."

Frowning, I ash my own cigarette, leaning forward a bit to rest my wrist on top of my knee - tilting my head to the side. "That's a shame, Harry, you were talented," I tell him honestly, and for the first time I feel my stomach knot up from my nerves. "And my parents assured me that they put the check for the set in your mailbox."

"Oh they did," Harry laughs, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "Just another act of charity from them, just like all those years before."

I try to swallow down my anger with his comment, but I can feel my jaw tense. "They never saw you that way, and you know that I never did either. You bought that set with the money you earned from working at the record store. It was yours."

"Yeah, whatever," he shrugs me off with a wave of his hand as he takes an especially long drag.

It grows quiet again, and I finish off my cigarette - putting the butt out in the tray. Leaning back on the couch, I drape my arms across the top of it, and I watch as Harry pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Why are you here, Harry?" I ask, needing him to be straight up with me. I need to know why he chose me coming home to finally acknowledge my existence again.

"Saw your name on the marquee," he said, bringing his hand up to toy with his bottom lip instead, rolling it between the pad of his thumb and his index finger. "Had to make sure that it was you."

"Okay, I guess I'm just a little confused? It's been almost five years. I'm just not understanding how me coming home all of a sudden-"

"What? Do you think there's more to this than me just wanting to confirm that it's you? I'm not here from some type of emotional reunion, Marlowe. Jesus Christ," Harry shakes his head, snuffing his own cigarette out before reaching to grab his pack again.

"Oh, because there's just so many Marlowe Finch's in the world, right?" I ask him, feeling my hands begin to tremble as I drop them down onto the cushions beside me to cup the edge of the couch. "You just had to confirm it was me?"

"I don't know what kind of answer you're looking for here, but whatever it is, you're not getting it from me," Harry laughs darkly, his eyes completely avoiding me now.

Gritting my teeth, I stand from the couch and reach out to snatch his pack of cigarettes from his hand. "You owe me a fucking explanation," I seethe, tears beginning to burn in my eyes from how furious I'm feeling. "Do you understand what you've put me through?"

Harry rolls his eyes and I see a smirk take over his expression as he looks at the wall over my shoulder instead of looking at me. His lips roll, and I can tell that he's slightly sucking his teeth.

"Is something funny?" I lean down to block his view of the wall, and for the first time ever, I see a darkness in his green eyes.

It almost knocks the wind out of me as he's never looked at me with such a gaze, and he sits up from his slightly slouched position in his chair.

"Yeah, there is," he states, standing up, and he takes the pack back from me. "The fact that you think that I owe you anything. Whatever you went through after I told you I didn't want to be friends with you anymore is on you. I should've done it years prior, but you were clinging to me so hard and-"

"Don't you dare fucking finish that sentence," I grit at him, tugging the pleather gloves off my hands as they were growing too clammy for my liking. I toss them onto the couch behind me, and I walk forward so my chest is flush with his. "I was clinging to you? Harry, we only had each other until we found Kailey and Mikey, and then after that you found Sierra. But Sierra didn't really matter either, right? You were sick of her too from what you said. I just don't understand why you completely erased me from your life like you did. I tried to go to your house a month after you left and-"

"You know I never liked you going to my house," Harry's voice lowers, and I feel him buck his chest up against mine a little more. "My mum told me that you stopped by like you did, and that was stupid."

"I didn't have any other choice! You made me feel like I was losing my mind! Fuck - I feel like I'm losing it again right now. Even after five years, you still find a way to mess with my fucking head just by being in my presence for ten minutes," I gasp, moving away from him as my hands tangle into my hair. I begin to pace my dressing room, heart thumping in its cavity.

"I told you I wanted to see if it was you, and that's that. There's nothing more to it, and once I leave here tonight it'll be just like it has been. We won't see each other, we still won't be friends. Eventually you'll forget that you ever saw me again."

Tears wet my cheeks as I look back over to him, and I shake my head. "That's the thing, Harry, I won't. There's hardly been any time that I haven't thought of you over these years, and there's no way that this isn't going to stick just like all the other memories."

Harry steps towards me again, and I look up as his eyes bounce all over my face. "Then wake the fuck up, Marlowe, and learn to properly forget about me."

I open my mouth to speak again, but Harry's already turned around - making his way out of the dressing room. He slams the door behind him, and I quickly clamp a hand over my mouth to keep myself from sobbing out. I don't want anyone to hear me like this. I don't know if Lys is still here, but if she is, I know she'll find some way to have Harry's head if she hears me. I'm also really not in the mood to have someone comforting me.

Maybe I really had been fooling myself after all these years, thinking that he was missing me just as much as I was missing him. I couldn't blame him for coming tonight if his true reason was just to confirm that it was me - I'd probably do the same if the situations were reversed.

But what I didn't expect from Harry was the darkness that was surrounding him. That definitely wasn't the same person I knew, and at this point he was truly unrecognizable to me. The moment those green eyes turned into nothing but flourishing ivy I once held so dear - I knew he was never going to come back to me as the same old Harry. He doesn't want to come back at all.

Part of me thinks this is what I needed. I needed to see him as a stranger in order to completely move on from the past, and to actually let him go. But I know that as much as I try to convince myself of that, there is always going to be a small sliver inside that still wishes to hold him close, and to be able to call him my friend.

My therapist told me that your mind and your emotions work closely together in the most mysterious ways, and even though you may not even notice, they fight each other for dominance more than you think. I was told that my emotions usually end up winning, and that's what can cause me to go days without leaving my bed, or what can have me shutting myself away in the studio for weeks on end. She provided me with proper exercises to try and help clear things up when these struggles start to happen, and I know that when I get home tonight I'm going to have to dive into several of them to help overcome the way I'm currently feeling.

Once I collect myself, I slip out of my dress and accessories before pulling on a pair of leggings and some Doc Martens with an oversized black hoodie. I gathered everything that was mine in the dressing room, and walked out to my car, piling it all into the trunk. I've been in LA for a few days now, and yesterday I went ahead and purchased a car since I knew I was going to be here for several months at the very least.

I slide into the driver's seat, and I grasp the wheel as I start towards my new home.

During the car ride, it's like I've resorted back to those days right after Harry left. I don't play any music as I drive, and I feel like I'm just going through the motions until I can curl up under the covers of my bed and try to block out the thoughts bouncing back and forth in my mind.

If my mind was making one thing extremely clear though, it was that LA was going to be even more different than I thought when I left those years ago, and I'm not entirely sure if i'm prepared for that.

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britswriting · 6 months

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Fallen For You H.S | AU - Seven

Fallen For You Masterlist - find description here

Read on Wattpad

Rancher!Harry x Plus-sized!OC

🦋Delaney🦋

I was pleasantly surprised when the weekend went by without a hitch, and I knew that was all thanks to Harry; whether he wanted to hear it or not, we wouldn't have survived without his help.

I walked into the barn where Harry and my dad were working surprisingly well together only to see my dad in there alone.

"Hey" I announced my presence, my dad appearing to be cleaning one of the stables.

"Good morning, Lane" Dad replied back, not bothering to turn and look at me.

"Hey, uh.. where's Harry?"

"He left this morning. He had something to do, he'll be back tomorrow morning" Dad replied, shuffling something around in the stable before the sound of a broom brushing against the floor was heard again.

The past few weeks, every Sunday Harry has disappeared and came back Monday morning getting straight to work.

I knew he had asked for at least one day off, which is completely fine and makes total sense. Everyone deserves a break, I just didn't expect him to be gone overnight for his break.

My brain couldn't help but spiral.

Was he seeing someone? Was he at his girlfriend's house? Did he have a whole other family? Did he have his own place? His own things? His own food? It would make sense why he was so weird about us buying him groceries, but how could he just leave that all for a week without so much as uttering a word to us?

Monday morning I argued with myself in the bathroom mirror over the fact that I willingly woke up early to get dressed for a man who seems to not give a fuck about me.

I mean honestly, who gets up before the sun just to curl their hair and apply makeup and make sure their outfit looks cute just for a guy!

Stupid, stupid Delaney!

I ran my hands through my dark loosely curled hair, my fingers separating some of the curls, applying another layer of mascara; double checking that I didn't have lipstick on my teeth before pulling my jean shorts up a bit more on my waist.

I stared into my brown eyes in the mirror, looking at myself completely done up for a man who could have an entire family somewhere else in this world that he left every Sunday to see.

Stupid, stupid Delaney!

My eyes began to burn as they started to blur; my quick blinking to prevent tears from falling wasn't working as they began to free fall down my artificially blushed cheeks, wrecking my still wet, fresh, mascara.

You're so fucking stupid, Delaney!

My shoulders slumped as I pulled open a drawer, yanking out a makeup wipe and proceeded to start wiping off all my effort.

First went the lipstick.

This was so fucking stupid. Why the fuck did I do this?

Then the foundation.

I could've been asleep this entire time!

Then the eyebrows followed by the mascara.

He's not even going to fucking care, nor notice! I not only wasted makeup, but my time and effort! All of this shit could've gone towards a job interview! A family reunion! A date for god sake!

I stared at my bright red, assaulted, skin; dark mascara still under my eye, smears of lipstick left behind, telling me I needed another makeup wipe.

My eyes burned as the tears settled in my waterline.

I looked date ready, and maybe that's what hurt? Knowing I looked date ready for a man who would never want to date me.

I washed my face with water and a cleanser before grabbing a hair tie and throwing my hair up into a now high, loosely curled ponytail.

I leaned back against the wall, my dark circles from lack of sleep, and the mascara residue staring me in the face.

Pulling off my expensive plain white shirt that had pretty lace detailing on the cuffs of my sleeves left me in a white, lacey bra; I groaned.

This was so fucking stupid.

Unclipping the fancy bra, I tossed it to the ground, ignoring the way my boobs fell and weighed down my chest as I entered my bedroom, grabbing a simple nude, plain bra and a loose t-shirt.

Stupid stupid stupid Delaney!

I wiggled out of my stupid skin tight shorts, grabbing some loose, easy to move in jeans that had wide, baggy hole's in the knees.

The sun was starting to rise, and I knew Harry would already be out this morning taking care of the animals and I felt like I was going to be sick.

I just wasted two hours on a man just to wipe it all off because of my stupid impulsive decisions! I could've just left it all on, said fuck him, and felt good about myself all day, but nooooo, I got insecure and wiped it all off and wasted it! I didn't even take a fucking picture!

Stupid stupid Delaney!

I ran my hands over my face, a strangled noise coming from my throat before I took a deep breath, grabbing my phone ready to hopefully get through today.

All day I avoided Harry the best I could.

I couldn't face the fact of what I had done this morning, knowing damn well this man didn't want me. Along with the fact that he could have an entirely different family and I refuse to be a homewrecker! Or.. or.. or.. I don't know! Anything that will paint me in a bad light! I didn't need the drama.

I got home from the market, my dad having called me asking me for help in the barn.

Walking in, Sassy trailing behind me like she owned the damn place, loudly meowing for attention; my father happily scooping her up and saying hello.

Spoiled brat.

My dad informed me that the horses needed their trail ride today before leaving Harry and I alone in the barn.

I stared at Harry's back, knowing I had to ask him for help, but deeply regretting ever needing him to begin with.

At least I wasn't wearing a lacy shirt, red lipstick and a probably crooked liner.

"Uh, hey.. how's it going?" I asked him, Harry bent over pulling bags of horse grain from a crate, placing it on the floor.

"Fine" he gruffly replied, pulling another large bag of grain out of the crate, tossing it next to the other two.

I nodded — even though he couldn't see me, trying to think quick on my feet to not let what now felt like awkward silence, at least to me, linger longer than necessary.

"Are you busy?" I stupidly asked, regretting it immediately.

"Yes" he replied instantly, my head falling back on my shoulders as my eyes closed.

Of course he's fucking busy Delaney! He's literally doing a task right now!

"I uh.. are you able to help me with the horses?" I quickly spit out, "My dad has to go back to the Rickman's" Harry froze, his muscles visibly tensing, "And the horses need to go on their trail ride, I just.. normally Morgan, or Wrenlynn help me, but uh.. well" I stumbled, my anxious racing thoughts no long becoming coherent in my brain.

"I don't ride horses" He firmly replied, grunting as he picked up one of the horse feed bags, his boots thudding against the concrete as he walked over to the ladder, impressively, yet scaring the shit out of me, climbing it with one hand as the other held the feed.

I watched intently, afraid of him acting all macho and then falling off and busting his skull open.

I couldn't help myself but call out, "But you're a rancher?" knowing damn well I should've left it alone, but I was confused by how someone who works on a farm doesn't ride horses?

Harry didn't reply, in fact, it seemed as if he was ignoring my entire existence, shuffling around stuff on the loft, "Harry?" I called out again, standing far enough away that I could watch him moving the bags of grain around, acting like it was as easy as tossing a throw blanket into a ball on the floor. I sighed, "Harry, how can you not ride horses? You're a rancher" I stated the obvious again, wishing this man would open up more so I could simply understand his stiff and stern reactions. "Look, I wouldn't have asked if I knew it was a firm no; it's just we need to do it, and everyone else is busy, and it's a lot to do by myself. I was just asking for help is all, but if you can't, or don't want to, fine" I turned on my heel, walking towards Baylor, my all black Shire horse, grabbing my brush to clean his coat before braiding his mane, wanting to prevent tangles and matting whilst we worked when I heard Harry say directly behind me, "Can't you wait for your father to be back?" making me jump due to the close proximity.

"He's booked solid helping the town, Harry. It's fine, it'll just take me longer" I replied, running my hand down Baylor's side.

I grabbed my step stool, taking the two steps up before draping a blanket over his back, fitting the saddle over the blanket. I made sure nothing was too tight or too lose, and that the blanket was lose yet snug in all the right areas. Grabbing my lead, I begun to lead Baylor out of the stables, hoisting myself up and over when Harry asked, "This is your horse?"

"This is my baby—"

"Baby nothing. That horse is bigger than you are!" He declared, my brow furrowing.

"That's the point"

"What?"

"That's the point. A big girl needs a big horse. I like that he's big. I like that I feel safe and secure on him, even at my height and weight. He's a gentle giant"

Harry appeared perplexed before shaking his head followed by saying, "My job is to help you, but I don't ride horses"

"May I ask why?"

"No" he replied instantly, my body stilling like someone had dumped cold water over my head.

Oh.

Why?

"Alright well, I need to get started. If you need anything.... I'm sure you can find someone" I unintentionally huffed, giving Baylor his command to start walking down the driveway.

I got halfway down the road when a loud, "FINE! I'LL HELP!" made my head turn over my shoulder, Harry standing a good fifty, sixty feet from me with his arms crossed over his chest just staring at my horse's butt.

I stopped Baylor, getting us to turn around and face Harry, calling back, "NO ONE IS FORCING YOU!" my hand running down Baylor's neck.

"DO YOU WANT MY HELP OR NOT?!"

Baylor and I got back to barn after Harry just stared at us; Harry watching me slide down my horse, tying him to the barn post so I could grab the horse Harry would use, "So what changed your mind?" I asked, clearly having a death wish, silently praying he didn't decide then and there to leave me yet again in the dust.

"It's my job to help you"

Ah. Yes. He's here because he has to be.

"Alright well, this is Tina" I showed Harry our Morgan horse, Harry scowling.

"I'm aware of your horses, Delaney"

"I know. This is your horse today. You said you don't ride horses, and she's really good for beginners" I ran my hand down her neck before starting to saddle her.

"Who names their horse Tina?"

"Don't disrespect Tina" I warned, "And Wren did"

"Of course she did" he scoffed, arms laid over one another across his chest.

I moved my mouth closer to Tina's ear, whispering, "Don't listen to him"

I could practically feel Harry's nerves seeping out of him as I grabbed his protective gear.

I held out a helmet for him, Harry just starting at it before slowly taking it and placing it on his head. He clipped the buckle under his chin and I grinned.

"I look stupid, don't I" he stated, rather than asked, huffing slightly as my grin widened.

"You look great" I laughed, his eyes rolling. "Have you ever ridden a horse?" I asked, Harry nodding, staring at Tina like she was some alien. "When's the last time you rode a horse?" my curiosity piqued, the senseful part of my brain ignoring the blaring alarms telling me to shut up and leave him alone and just be thankful he is actually helping me.

Instead of replying, he asked, "Won't I break her?" making me snicker, shaking my head.

"Nope"

"But your horse is ginormous?" He frowned, tugging at my heartstrings as he appeared like a little boy afraid to learn to ride a bike.

"Shouldn't that make you more afraid?" I asked, Harry's head snapping over to look at me.

"I'm not afraid" he stated, sounding offended that I would even utter such thing.

Yeah, okay.

Tina was saddled up, and I led her out of the barn, handing her off to Harry before hopping up onto Baylor, waiting for Harry to do the same.

I watched Harry stand still, staring at Tina, his eyes closing for a moment before watching him take a deep breath.

Oh. This is more serious than I thought.

I watched as he hoisted himself up onto the horse; I could practically see him shaking in his boots from here.

I started to lead Baylor back down the driveway, assuming that once we got going Harry would be fine. I poked my head back around my shoulder, Harry still just sat on Tina by the barn.

"Come on slowpoke!" I called out, teasing.

I continued down the driveway, stopping to wait for Harry, only to see he was still by the barn.

I went back to the barn, hoping off Baylor and tying him to the barn again then walking over to Harry, smiling.

"Hi" I grinned, Harry's eyes narrowed at me, "Need help?" I asked, not able to wipe the smug smile off my face. "Haven't ridden a horse before?" I asked, my tone slightly teasing, "Hm, figured you would've since you're a rancher and all" I giggled, rubbing my hand down the top of Tina's nose.

Harry's nostrils flare as he goes to get off, confusing Delaney

"Where are you going?" I asked, frowning.

"I'm not going"

"Why?"

"You're making fun of me. I have better shit to do anyway" He huffed, getting off the horse, beginning to walk away.

I knew I was teasing him, but it was all in good fun! I didn't think he'd actually get upset!

"I'm only making fun of you a little!" I call after him, snickering as my fingers pinched together, referencing my words. "I'll help you! Come back, please! I really need to get the horses out" I begged, guilt consuming me at the idea of having upset him. "Harry! I'm sorry!" I called after him, quickly jogging to him, my hand reaching out for his arm.

My fingers grasped his bicep, surprised by how warm his skin was, Harry still walking, ignoring my attempts at stopping his strides.

"Harry! Please!"

"I offered to help you, and you made fun of me"

"I know, I'm sorry! I didn't think you'd actually get upset!"

He turned quickly on his heel, facing me as I halted to a spot, "Why wouldn't I? I don't ride horses for a good reason and you made fun of me! Do you know how sick and twisted that is, Delaney?"

"But.. but I didn't mean to hurt you! I just.. you're a rancher Harry and you don't ride horses! It's a little comical. I'm sorry, please" I begged, "If I knew how serious it was, I wouldn't have done that, I promise!" I could feel my heartbeat in my ears as desperation crawled out of me, wishing I could take back everything.

"I don't appreciate being made fun of" He said, turning around, back enroute to his house.

"I'm sorry! Harry, please, stop!" I cried out, tired of chasing this man all over the ranch. "You know what? Fine! Pout! I didn't know it was this serious!" I yelled, my frustration staring to bubble over, "You know, maybe I wouldn't have made fun of you if you would've just been honest with me in the first place instead of keeping everything locked away! God, I try and I try and you just.. you just.. you ignore me! And you know what? Maybe that's my fucking fault for caring and shit, but YOU'RE A GROWN ASS MAN! Act like it!" I yelled, feeling eyes surround me.

My chest was moving rapidly and I quickly moved my head to see that all the animals were looking at me.

Great.

I ran back to Baylor and Tina, grabbing Tina and leading her back into the barn to take all her stuff off until I was ready for her again, tears flowing freely down my cheeks as I choked on a sob or two.

This day has been a disaster from start to finish, and I was sick and tired of it.

I was tired of constantly walking on eggshells, feeling like I can't freely express myself down to just making a joke. If he would've told me how serious it was, I would've taken him more seriously! Just telling someone "I don't ride horses" when you're a rancher sounds stupid! Why wouldn't I have thought he was just being an asshole to be an asshole? Somehow me reading him wrong has me crying yet again like it's my fault! If he would've just been honest I would've helped him.

I wiped at my face, pulling myself together before getting back on Baylor, very much so needing this trail ride for my own mental health rather than just exercising the horse.

"Delaney" Harry's rough, flat voice said, my head dropping low.

"What, Harry?"

"I apologize for not being honest with you." He said, getting my head to lift, turning to face him. "I don't ride horses anymore" He emphasized.

"Let me guess, I can't ask why" I huffed, tired of the back and forth.

His head shook, "I'd rather not talk about it, no"

"Okay, well. Thanks for apologizing, I guess"

I commanded Baylor to start walking when Harry stopped me again.

I groaned, stopping Baylor.

"You know Harry, I could've been done already. If you don't want to help, you could've just told me. I need to get this done. I have a lot of stuff to do today. I asked for your help because I figured you'd actually be helpful" I huffed.

I swear he flinched, his jaw clenching as he nodded.

"Sorry for disappointing you then" His voice was monotonous with a hint of sarcasm and... disappointment?

Shit.

"That's not what I meant" I groaned, my entire body wanting to just crumple into a ball on the floor.

"No, Delaney. It's exactly what you meant" He glared.

"No it's not—" I quickly defended, wishing I could just shut up and let him be mad at me; it would be a hell of a lot easier than bickering with him.

"Sounded pretty fucking crystal clear to me" He interrupted, frustrating me further.

"Goddammit Harry, will you just shut up for two seconds! That's not what I meant! I'm tired, I'm frustrated, and I have a lot to do! I swear I can't say anything without you getting mad at me and it's tiring!"

"You asked me for help!" His voice raised, nostrils flaring slightly before he took a deep breath, rolling back his shoulders, his Adam's apple visibly bouncing as he swallowed.

"I thought you'd be helpful!"

"I'm trying!"

"How?! You stop me every time I try to make progress!"

"I haven't ridden a horse in almost two decades, Delaney! I want to help you, I just don't remember how exactly" He grumbled, his hand moving up to brush against the tip of his nose before falling to his side and pulling at the end of shirt, attempting to straighten it out more, followed by running his hands through his hair, a few pieces falling down against his forehead.

"You could've just said that, you know. I would've helped and we could've avoided this entire song and dance you like to put us through" I huffed yet again, wishing I could strangle and kiss him all at the same time.

"My job is to help you. My job is to do what I'm asked. I.." he paused, chewing on his lip for a second, his eyes narrowing, "I can't do my job, when I don't know the task"

My head tilted, "Why do you view everything as a task?" I asked, brow furrowing as I licked my lips, rolling them.

"You assigned me the task"

"No," My head shook, "I asked for help"

"Same thing"

"No Harry, it isn't. We're doing the task together. I just.. I don't understand why everything feels like a game to you? How many times do I have to tell you that this ranch is a team effort? I don't expect you to know everything! Or to get everything done in one day! If you're afraid of horses, or don't know how to ride a horse, you could've just said that. I wouldn't have pushed you any further, or made fun of you; I could've helped you if you had told me. Can you please, please, stop viewing me as the enemy? I'm trying here, Harry and you just keep shoving me away! It's frustrating, and tiring, and honestly? I'm getting sick of it"

"I haven't ridden a horse since I was ten" he said abruptly, shutting me up.

"What?"

"I haven't ridden a horse since I was ten" he repeated.

"Yeah, no, I heard you the first time. Explain further please?"

"No"

"No? Harry—"

"Stop! Stop pushing all the goddamn time! You want to talk frustrating?! That's frustrating! You act entitled, like you deserve to know everything! I'm starting to miss when you were quiet, overthinking to yourself. You don't need to know everything, Delaney. You say I keep playing games with you, then what is this? I tell you something and you just can't leave it alone!"

"I'm just trying to understand you better" My voice cracked, my chest feeling heavy as I watched him glare at me.

"Well don't. Just teach me how to ride this damn horse so I can get this over with" he roughly replied, walking towards the barn, his back to me once again.

I took a deep breath, attempting to collect my spiraling emotions.

I'm starting to miss when you were quiet, overthinking to yourself.

Trust me, I hear you loud and clear this time.

"Come on slowpoke!" Harry called out, my eyes widening slightly as the burn intensified.

Did he just...?

* * * *

Harry shaved his head. This was not on my 2023 bingo card.

I would've had this out sooner, but I redid the entire chapter twice..

Written on: November 3rd, 7th, 10th 2023

Published on: November 10th 2023

Word Count: 3729

Part Eight - coming soon