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[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

NOT LIKE A FRIEND

summary: y/n overhears something that sends her on a spiral and harry has no idea

7.6k words

warnings: friends to lovers, a smidge of angst. this was requested months ago but here she is! it might not be exactly what the request was asking for but… there’s angst so enjoy <3

(Y/N) wished she’d walked down the hallway ten seconds later. Maybe then she wouldn’t have heard what she did. 

All of the bridesmaids and groomsmen were at the fitting at the same time and before everyone went their separate ways to try on the dresses and suits to make sure everything fit just right, Harry had stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. 

“Let me see you when you’re dressed.” 

At that, she rolled her eyes but smiled and nodded. She wanted to see what Harry would look like in the suit he’d been asked to wear, so she didn’t mind too much. She had a flowy sage green dress that she couldn’t wait to slip into so after parting from him, she followed the other bridesmaids down the hall to where their dresses were being held. 

Their good friends Jesssica and Landon were getting married and they asked both (Y/N) and Harry to be in their wedding. It was an honor and (Y/N) was almost brought to tears when they asked her. 

It was the final fitting just before the wedding that would happen a month or so later. 

One of the other girls who (Y/N) is certain is Landon’s younger sister, helped her with the zipper on the back of her dress and she did the same for her before finding an empty mirror to look herself over in. 

Of course, she wasn’t quite done up yet because this was just a fitting but the dress was beautiful. It exposed her shoulders and fell all the way to her feet. The fabric was smooth and it clung to every curve of her body. She really couldn’t wait to show Harry. He’d love it. 

The dressing room for the guys was on the other half of the building, so it was a little ways down the hallway, but she didn’t mind the walk. 

Harry and (Y/N) had been best friends for just about ten years. She’s not sure when it happened but they just suddenly started incorporating each other into their daily lives and they realized that they really enjoyed the company. It’s strange when she thinks about it now because now there is no way that she’d let anyone know her the way Harry does. 

He always knows what she wants before she does. He calls her everyday, she’s sure of it. He sends her silly photos that remind him of her, he’s knocking on her door every Sunday morning to take her to breakfast. Wherever she goes, he does too. She’s never been closer to someone in her entire life and she loves the support he gives her for everything and anything. 

She stopped at the doorway before the guys’ dressing room, just about to announce her presence when she heard something. 

“I know your type, Harry, and she is not it.” 

“You don’t know shit,” She heard Harry laugh. “(Y/N)’s not my type at all, actually, thank god.” 

“She’s cute though, isn’t she?” 

“She’s like a sister to me, Matt, come on.” 

Her listening was interrupted by the other girls coming down the hallway to show off their dresses. She wasn’t sure why Harry’s words seemed to have hit her so deeply. Her stomach dropped when she heard what he said but she doesn’t quite understand it right now. If she was feeling a little less lightheaded, she might follow after the others and force a smile to get through the rest of the fitting but she doesn’t. Instead, she makes her way back to the room with her clothes and changes back into them. The dress fits nicely. That’s all she needed to know. 

“Did you even try your dress on?” She heard behind her. In the mirror, Harry is in the doorway, dressed in his suit. He looked like a dream, if she was being honest. The suit fit to his shoulders perfectly and tapered at the waist. Whoever took his measurements really wanted to do him justice. 

“Yeah,” She answered, trying to keep a casual expression as she zipped the dress back into a garment bag. “I just feel a little sick suddenly.” She shrugged, watching as his eyebrows drew together in concern. 

“Oh, no,” And then he was in her personal space, feeling her forehead with the back of his hand, searching her face over intently, like he’d be able to figure out what was wrong with her just by looking at her. “I can get changed and we can get you home. Give me five minutes.” 

He left the room and she sighed, finding a seat to sit down for a second. 

She’s not sure why it makes her stomach churn in such a way. To hear that. She’s not Harry’s type? Not that it matters much because she never ever thought about him that way. Maybe right before she falls asleep when she’s in between consciousness and not but it’s never gone so far that she’s felt awkwardness with him. It’s just little what ifs. But hearing him completely shut down even the suggestion of it, made her heart drop. 

Harry is probably as attractive as attractive gets. She can’t believe he gives her the time of day sometimes. And she’d never want anything to ruin the friendship they’d been nurturing for the past ten years, so lines were never blurred between them. Strictly friends. Best friends. 

He couldn’t even call her cute though. Or attractive. Or pretty when Matt asked him. He just said she’s like a sister. And that should be fine. (Y/N) isn’t sure why she’s feeling nauseated at the thought of it but it ruined her day. Flat out. She’d just decided that. 

The other girls came back, dressing into their clothes and chatting amongst themselves but (Y/N) felt frozen. She hates the way that got to her. It doesn’t matter. Harry doesn’t think she’s his type. He’s right. She’s seen his type too and (Y/N) checks none of the boxes. The way that he was so sure and so quick to answer is really what’s nagging on her. Like he’s thought about it before and already deemed (Y/N) not good enough for him. 

She said goodbye to the other girls before making her way to the front of the building with her dress. She’s not certain she’ll be able to stand the sight of Harry. Not today at least. She needs time to ruminate and figure her feelings out. Why does it feel so weird to hear what she already knew? 

Before she could reach the doors, Harry was behind her, holding it open for her and then following her out. 

“I think I'm just going to head home on my own. I don’t want to get in the way of your plans.” She spoke up, already swiping on her phone screen to call herself a ride. Harry picked her up earlier and they were meant to go to dinner after the fitting but she can’t even think about eating at the moment. She just needs to be alone. 

“My plans were with you, (Y/N). I can take you home and make you something there if you want.” He offered, his hand rubbing down her back in a comforting gesture. She stepped away from him so he could no longer touch her and tried to remain calm. 

“It’s okay, Harry. Seriously. I just need to sleep, I think. And that would be boring for you.” 

“Well, I need to sleep too, so let’s go.” He took her phone right from her hand and slipped it into his pocket with a smirk. 

Harry is stubborn and as soon as he doesn’t get what he wants, he’s an annoying little shit and somehow the cards are always already in his favor anyway. 

So, she followed him to his car and let him shut her inside. The drive wasn’t too long but he kept the car quiet, like he was waiting for her to speak up and tell him what was really wrong but she didn’t. She just kept her eyes out the window and tried to keep her mind off of what he said only just shy of twenty minutes ago. 

“I’m just going to run a bath and go to bed, Harry. I don’t need a babysitter.” 

He’d helped her inside and was set on making her dinner and spending the night but she wasn’t feeling like being in his company right now. For the first time ever. 

“But you don’t feel good, (Y/N), and someone should be here with you,” He kicked his shoes off by her door, telling her that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “I’ll run the bath. You get comfortable.” 

She huffed as he walked down the hall to her bathroom and flicked on the light. See what she means? Stubborn. 

That was a month ago. And she hadn’t been able to get it out of her head the entire time. When she first wakes up and when she’s about to go to sleep, she’s thinking about what he said. She’s always had a hard time with letting things go. Even the smallest things. So she knows that conversation will be with her for a long, long time. 

She’s probably seen Harry five times since then. And she is positive he knows that something is going on now. She tried to be normal around him but it was too hard. He’d wrap his arm around her shoulders when they were sitting with friends at the pub and she’d make an excuse to get up and from under his arm. But he noticed, he just hadn’t said anything yet. 

The wedding is three days away. Jessica and Landon wanted to be married on the beach or near it anyway, so everyone would have to drive about an hour to get to the coast. It wasn’t a big ask, (Y/N) wanted to visit the beach first thing when they got there because it had been a while since she’s been. 

The wedding party was arriving two days before the ceremony so they could all help get things in order before the big day. (Y/N) was meant to drive down with Harry and Jessica had put them in the same room in the hotel because neither of them minded at the time. They’d shared a bed more than a handful of times so it wouldn’t be anything unusual. But now that (Y/N) knew what she knew, she had secretly asked Jessica if she could book another room, under the guise that there had been an extra room and to not tell Harry a word of it. Jessica was a little puzzled but didn’t ask and agreed. 

She wanted to hitch a ride with someone else but she doesn't want to hurt his feelings. Even though he unknowingly obliterated hers. For a reason she’s still not sure of. 

So, Friday after work, Harry came to help her finish packing and then they’d set out for the hour drive. 

When her doorbell rang, she was filled with dread. For the first time since she’s known him. But still, she opened the door for him and accepted his tight hug that he always gave her when he saw her. 

“Almost ready to go?” He pulled back, squeezing her shoulders and smiling down at her. 

“Almost.” (Y/N) stepped back so his arms fell away and started back toward her bedroom. He followed of course, and sat on her bed as soon as it was in sight. She was done packing for the most part, she just had a few things to shove in her bag and then they’d be ready to go. 

“Hey, babe?” 

She hummed because her back was to him as she finished stuffing a smaller bag with her toiletry items. 

“Who exactly are these for?” 

She turned, seeing her skimpy pair of black panties wrapped around Harry’s finger. Gasping, she stomped toward him so she could snatch them away. 

“Stay out of my bag!” Her hands shook as she shoved them down further into her bag where he wouldn’t be able to see them or get a hold of them again. He only laughed, relaxing further into her bed. 

“It’s cool. Can show me what they look like when they’re on. I think I’d like that more.” His smirk lessened none when she shot him a mean look before turning back to her other bag. 

“In your dreams.” She muttered, zipping the bag shut and tossing it on the bed. 

“Every night.” 

(Y/N) ignores him when he makes comments like that. He’s just a guy and they’re only friends, so she takes none of it to heart. Especially now that she knows what he really thinks of her. 

Once everything she could possibly need is in the duffle, Harry offered to carry it out to the car for her. She lets him, only because it’s heavy and he wouldn’t let her lift a finger for it anyway. 

They get comfortable in the car for an hour-long drive as soon as her house is locked up and everything is situated in the car. He always let her pick the music and this time was no different than any other. She connected her phone to his car and shuffled one of their usual favorite playlists before leaning back into her seat and shutting her eyes. 

There’s no talking until they get about fifteen minutes from the hotel. They both prefer the quiet sometimes and are totally always okay to sit in silence, nothing but music playing, and just be. Especially after a day of work, it’s nice to just mindlessly watch the scenery go by and not worry about much. 

Jessica and Landon arrived at the hotel hours ago, so the plan was to meet them in the lobby so they could get their room key. Jessica and (Y/N) had already smoothed over the plans for going about the extra room. It would just be a happy coincidence that there was another room and (Y/N) didn’t mind taking it. That’s how easy it would be. 

Harry, holding both of their bags on his shoulders, texted Landon and both of them met them in the lobby. Jessica hugged (Y/N) tightly and thanked her, once again, for agreeing to come all the way there for her special day. 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Jess.” She parted from the hug and from the corner of her eye saw Landon hand the key card to Harry. 

“Oh, right! We have an extra room if one of you wants it. It’s paid for so use it if you need to.” Jessica passed the other key card to (Y/N) and she smiled in thanks at her, trying not to look so relieved. 

“We don’t need that, but thanks.” Harry went to grab it from (Y/N)’s hand and give it back but she pulled away. 

“It’s paid for. I’ll use it.” She forced a convincing smile at him before nodding at Jessica again. 

Landon and Jessica left the lobby to go to the beach right across the street, leaving (Y/N) to get in the elevator with a now grumpy looking Harry. She paid him no mind as she pushed their floor number and hummed to herself. That was seamless. She really will have to thank Jessica again. 

“You’re really going to take that room?” 

“Why not?” (Y/N) can tell from the tense way that his jaw is sitting that he’s not exactly happy with the arrangement but she doesn’t think too hard about it. “It’s not that big of a deal, Harry. We’ll be right next to each other anyway.” 

He only huffed in response, grumbling something under his breath as he followed her out of the elevator to her door. 

“What if someone else needs it?” 

“Jessica wouldn’t have offered it then,” She shot back, trying not to seem so defensive about it. “Plus, it’ll be nice to stretch out.” 

“You do that every night anyway.” 

“Most nights, yeah.” She clicked the card in and pushed the door so she could step inside. 

“What do you mean most nights? Who the fuck do you have in your bed then?” He kept his grip tight on her bag when she tried to take it from his shoulder to set it down. 

Her eyes widened at his tone of voice. She’s never seen Harry like this and she’s not sure what to call it. But instead of asking, she laughed at him. 

“Set my bag down and let’s go to the beach.” Gently rubbing her thumb over his wrist like she liked to do sometimes, he released her bag, his face falling neutral again. 

“You expect me to go in that other room?” He pointed. “Because I’m not. I’m right here with you, I don’t want my own room, I don’t want to stretch out, I want to be here.” 

(Y/N) is unsure why he’s so adamant about it. She really thought he wouldn’t care and this would be her chance to get even more distance between the two of them. But Harry is unwavering in his declaration to not leave her room, so she sighed. 

“Fine. I guess you can stay in my room.” 

“Funny.” He dropped his bag before sifting through it to find his swim shorts. 

It’s evening now and they probably would need to stop somewhere at some point to get something to eat but she guessed Harry wanted to go to the beach first. She changed too, in the bathroom, into the orange bathing suit that she knew Harry was a fan of. He said the color went well with her skin and maybe it did, but she didn’t put much thought into those words either. 

(Y/N) put an oversized tee shirt on before she left the bathroom. She wasn’t sure they were actually going to swim since it was getting late, so she wanted to have something to cover up with. 

Harry led her back down through the hotel and out the doors that allowed you to step right into the sand. His hand brushed hers, earning him a look. 

“You don’t want to hold my hand?” 

“My hands are sweaty.” 

“So?” He chuckled, holding his hand out for her this time. The sand was a little hard to navigate in her sandals but she really doesn’t want to hold his hand either. She could manage on her own. 

“I’m okay.” She answered, thankful that they just reached Jessica and Landon so he wouldn’t force an explanation out of her like he often did with little effort. 

(Y/N) decided to just dip her feet in. That way, she didn’t have to take off the tee shirt and get wet. She’d much rather find something to eat after this and not be soaked while she does. 

Landon occupied Harry while (Y/N) got to whisper with Jessica for a little bit. 

“He refuses to stay in the other room.” She muttered, rolling her eyes. 

“What’s the issue with the room anyway? I thought you didn’t mind sharing a bed.” Poor Jessica. She should’ve given her a bit more information but she really didn’t want to explain to other people that Harry doesn’t find her attractive in the least. She’s already embarrassed, she doesn’t want anyone else knowing. Even though the entire room full of groomsmen heard. 

“We just need some space, you know? He doesn’t realize it now but…we do.” 

The water was calm at the moment. It just reached her ankles when it came up the shore and that was all she needed. The sun was just dipping past the horizon and everything was bathed in an orange glow. It’s beautiful and (Y/N) is so happy for her friends. And to be a part of something so special. 

“Aren’t you going to take this off?” Harry stepped beside her, his hand tugging on the end of her tee shirt. 

“I don’t want to get wet.” She kept her eyes on the sky. If she looked at Harry now in this light, she’d be a goner. And she needed to stay strong. He doesn’t want anything to do with her and that should be fine. She shouldn’t be wondering day and night what if things were different. What if Harry did think she was pretty? Would that change anything? 

(Y/N) knows that he enjoys her company. That part is evident. Her brain just won’t let the idea rest. Harry doesn’t think she’s good enough for him. It was as simple as that but it was a hard pill to swallow. 

There was little conversation between the two. (Y/N) knows he’s very aware that something had shifted, he just hadn’t brought it up yet. But Harry is not one to let things go either. He’d bring it up eventually. She tried to keep her eyes on the view in front of her. It was beautiful and it allowed her to relax for a moment and clear her mind. 

They said goodbye to Landon and Jessica on the beach and went to find something to eat. Harry suggested room service since a lot of the restaurants around the hotel were beginning to close. 

After eating, (Y/N) took a quick shower and snuggled into the sheets while Harry went off to take his own shower. She wanted to be asleep before he got back, but apparently, he wasn’t interested in being in the shower longer than five minutes. He was back before her eyes could shut so she was forced to interact with him. 

“Feel alright?” 

“Mhm.” She hummed, keeping her eyes sealed shut as he slipped into the bed beside her. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure.” She felt his body shift closer to her under the blankets. He’d moved so close that his chest was pressed to her back. Normally, this would never be a problem but now that she knows what she knows, she doesn’t feel as comfortable as she once did.

His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her even further into him. 

“Goodnight then.” He said before settling his hand over her stomach. 

“Uh,” She interrupted the quiet after his goodnight. “Would you mind like…giving me a little bit of space?” 

“Oh,” His hand pulled away quickly. “Sure. I didn’t realize that…yeah. Okay. Goodnight.” He moved back toward his side of the bed, laying on his back now. 

(Y/N)’s not sure why, but she feels like she’s being mean to him. Even though she really did want the space between them, it wasn’t something that she was saying just to hurt his feelings. But she knows she did anyway. 

At the moment, it feels necessary, so she doesn’t apologize or curl up next to him like she’d normally do. She just shut her eyes again and tried to get to sleep. 

***

The next day, (Y/N) and Harry were rushing around, trying to make the final arrangements for the wedding before the rehearsal dinner. 

There wasn’t much time spent with Harry actually, she was too busy doing things centered around Jessica. She figured Harry was doing the same for Landon but hadn’t yet responded to his text asking if she was as tired as he was. She was busy. At least that would be her excuse when he pouted and asked her why she was ignoring him when they met at the rehearsal dinner in just shy of an hour. 

She made it to the hotel room, showered, changed, and left again before he ever made it back. So, she didn’t have to deal with his questions quite yet. 

(Y/N) tried to keep herself surrounded by bridesmaids while Jessica and Landon’s families went on with speeches and toasts. And then Jessica and Landon themselves had a few words to say. So, she was able to sip her wine and pretend like she didn’t feel Harry looking at her every few seconds. When he walked in, she did send him a wave but didn’t get out of her seat to go join him at his table near the back. It was full now, so there really wasn’t a reason to go over there. At least, that’s what she thought. 

When everyone broke up to get dinner at the small restaurant right across the street from the venue they were in, the same one that would be used for the reception, Harry caught a hold of her arm. 

“Fuck’s sake. Where have you been? Don’t you know you’re supposed to sit next to me at something like that?” His smile was still bright and playful like he didn’t mind much that she was practically avoiding him. Or he hadn’t noticed. Or he was just pretending he didn’t at the moment, she’s not sure. 

Dinner was good. Sitting next to Harry was as it always is. His arm was splayed over the back of her chair and he was making jokes the entire time only for her to hear. He made her genuinely laugh a few times but most of it was her rolling her eyes and nudging him with her elbow. Things almost felt normal. Until one of Jessica’s cousins who was gorgeous sat in the empty seat next to Harry and she had to listen to them talk for thirty minutes and she wasn’t invited into the conversation once. Those same feelings of self-doubt and not feeling good enough came hurtling back at her. And then she couldn’t even look him in the eye when the girl finally did saunter off after slipping him her number like she didn’t want (Y/N) to see or something. And that just made her sick. 

Jessica and Landon were completely occupied with their family and they probably wouldn’t need her anymore tonight, so (Y/N) considered just going back to the hotel to get rest for tomorrow. Plus, the time that she’s supposed to meet Jessica and the other bridesmaids is early enough for her to want to go to bed now. 

“Hey. Take a walk with me?” Harry rubbed his hand over her shoulder. She nodded, agreeing even though she shouldn’t have. She just thought it’d get her back to the hotel quicker. 

In minutes, (Y/N) and Harry are on the beach, walking side by side in the sand. They kicked off their shoes in the grass before stepping into the sand and they hadn’t said a word since. 

“You’re stunning,” He said all of a sudden. “I mean…truly. You’re beautiful, (Y/N).” 

She wanted to shoot him a look and tell him to stop lying to her but she didn’t. Instead, she shrugged, trying not to take him too seriously. 

“Thanks.” 

“I missed you today.” Another bright smile was sent her way. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” He sighed, reaching for her empty hand. “Weddings are always fun, huh?” 

“Sure. It’s a lot of work though. But Jess and Landon are so good together.” It was true. (Y/N) had never really seen anything like it. How in sync the two of them are and how in love they seem to be. 

“I’d like to be married one day, I think.” His hand squeezed hers. 

“Me too, I guess. Just because.” 

“Really?” 

“Eventually.” 

“Can I be honest for a second?” Harry stopped where he was in the sand, causing her to do the same. She’s not sure what he’d want to be honest about. She thought he was always honest with her. 

“Yeah.” 

“You’re my best friend, (Y/N),” Suddenly, his expression was serious, something that (Y/N) seldom sees. “And…I love you.” 

“I love you too, Harry.” It was something they’ve said to each other for years. But he shook his head as soon as she said it back. 

“No. Like, I like you.” 

“I’d hope so with how much time we spend together.” She chuckled. He grabbed both of her hands, another unamused look on his face. 

“(Y/N). Listen. I love you. I like you. I want you. Not like a friend. Not even close to a friend.” 

She snatched her hands away, taking two steps away from him. 

“Can we just go back to the hotel now? This was a waste of time.” 

“A waste of time? I just told you how I feel about you.” The very vulnerable expression he had is long gone now, replaced by something close to hurt and disbelief. 

“God, what did you do? Make a bet with Matt or something? Just to pull one over on me?” 

“What are you talking about?”

“I heard what you said to him.” (Y/N) is ready to confess and get this entire thing over with. She can finally tell him that she heard what he said and confront him about it. 

“To who?” 

“Matt!” She took another few steps away from him but he followed. “Is this fun for you? Messing with me like this? This is why I didn’t want to share a room with you.” 

“I’m so lost—”

“Of course you are.” Turning, she wanted to make her way back to the room, collect her belongings, and beg one of the other bridesmaids to stay in their room for the night. Surely someone would take pity on her. 

“(Y/N), just fucking talk to me! What’s going on?” He gripped her arm, spinning her to face him once again. “What did I say?” 

“How could you forget?” She laughed, ripping her arm from him. “You’re just so thankful that I’m not your type, aren’t you? I’m just your best friend, like your sister, and you’d never even take a second look at me. Because I’m not worth your time.” 

Maybe she added in a few bits that she’d been stewing over in her own mind. He didn’t outwardly say most of that but to her, it all fell in line anyway. 

“When did I—” He started to ask but stopped himself, as if he suddenly remembered when he said those things. “You’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“How else could you mean that? I’m not your type. Sounds pretty straightforward to me, Harry,” He looked helpless for a moment, like he didn’t know what to say to make it better. For the first time in his life. “And then that girl! She’s your type! Go get her since you seemed so interested earlier.” 

“What girl, (Y/N)? Christ, what are you on about?” Now he looks frustrated by her lack of answering his questions but she really doesn’t feel like talking. 

“Jessica’s cousin. She gave you her number, I bet you loved that.” 

“I didn’t take her number, (Y/N). I was just being nice!” 

“You’re always just so nice, aren’t you? So fucking nice all the time!” She hated that. He was too afraid to tell someone to fuck off, so he just put up with anyone that decided to to talk to him even if it was the last thing he wanted to do. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t bother me. It’s just the fact that you dragged me out here to try and lie to me. You like me—love me—I don’t buy it for a second. I’m done with this conversation. Goodnight.” 

It would be almost impossible to avoid him like she wanted to but maybe she’d find another ride home. They do have to walk down the aisle together but she doesn’t have to talk to him, she can just try to keep her face pleasant as she walks beside him. It shouldn’t be longer than a minute. And then she can ignore him for the entire reception and when they get home, she can consider figuring all of this out. After plenty of time, of course. 

“You misheard me. It wasn’t like that.” He reached for her but before he could touch her or say much more, she was on her way back to the hotel. After grabbing her sandals in the grass. 

She felt like crying. But there was no reason to. Yes, technically she’s in a fight with her best friend and they’ve never really had one before. They have disagreed a few times but never anything like this. He’d never made her so mad or hurt her so deeply. Talking about something like that to someone neither of them really knows just crossed the line. Matt is far outside of their friend group, he shouldn’t have gotten any information like that. (Y/N) just wonders why Harry offered it up. 

Harry doesn’t have to like her or think she’s attractive. It would almost be strange if he did, considering how long they’ve been friends. But hearing it from someone who looks like him cuts deep. She wishes she could brush it off because Harry isn’t someone she ever thought of as a possibility. But now that she knows there’s not one, it stirred something inside of her. All of her insecurities came right to the forefront of her mind and no amount of self-soothing has been able to fix it so far. 

She was lucky that she caught one of the bridesmaids in the hallway on her way back to the room. She explained very vaguely that it wasn’t quite working out in her room anymore and she’d sleep on the floor if she had to. The girl was nice and very reassuring and even helped her grab her things from the room. And the best part: she asked no questions. She was just nice and they briefly talked earlier when they were all assigned tasks to do before the rehearsal dinner so she didn’t mind at all. 

She’s also lucky Harry didn’t catch her in the hallway. He wouldn’t have let her go anywhere until he said his piece but she’s not sure he’s made it back to the hotel yet. 

(Y/N) just wants to go home. She hates to be so down during what’s supposed to be one of the happiest days of one of her best friend’s life. But it was hard to think about anything other than Harry. 

That night, she had to force herself to sleep. After thanking the girl ten more times. 

She just hoped that, even though she was upset with him now, everything would work out and they could put this behind them. 

****

(Y/N) ignored the messages on her phone for the time being. She was too busy getting herself ready and doing a few last minute things for Jessica. So, while she maybe wanted to see what he had to say, she didn’t give herself time to dwell on it. She’ll see him at the end of the aisle. 

He was there before she really knew it. Across the room, looking stressed. Like he tossed and turned all night. Like he wanted to run to her now and say a million different things. But he didn’t. He stayed put in line with the other groomsmen and sent her pitiful little looks occasionally when she’d catch his eye, while she kept a stoic expression, not wanting to give him any kind of false hope. She honestly didn’t know how things would be when she decided she wanted to talk to him again. 

Unfortunately for her, that time came too soon. She was already walking down the aisle with him. Their arms interlocked and pleasant smiles on both their faces, like they weren’t not talking at the moment. Like everything was fine. 

When they were meant to let go at the end of the aisle, Harry hesitated, but decided to do nothing more than give her another longing look. He was sorry about something. Or regretful. Something like that. She’d never know unless she talked to him. 

(Y/N) is almost certain that Harry didn’t hear a word of the ceremony. His eyes were locked on her the entire time. Every time she accidentally met his gaze, he was already staring right back. And that would make her force her focus back on the two people in front of them, only until she let her eyes wander his way again. 

The reception was only a short walk away, but she wasn’t sure she’d make it that far. He’d definitely catch up to her before she made it inside.

When the ceremony was over, Jessica and Landon walked back down the aisle and everyone else dispersed and made their way to the cocktail hour that was supposed to immediately follow. 

“(Y/N)?” 

There it was. 

“Can we talk, please?” A hand touched her arm, gently turning her toward him. She had no choice but to look at him and as soon as she saw just how sad he looked, she didn’t care about how mad she was yesterday. Maybe it was true. 

What if he did love her? What if he did want her, but not like a friend? Would that be so bad? She spent the past month making herself believe that she never stood a chance. Not that she has ever wanted to before now, but the idea was just so jarring. Him? With her? It didn’t seem possible. 

But here he is now, almost begging to make things right. 

“Yeah. We can talk.”

The relief that overtook his face made her own shoulders relax. It was only Harry, there’s nothing to be afraid of. A lot had been revealed in the last day but it’s only him. And she knows him. The fact that he’s willing to talk means that he cares a little bit about how upset he’d made her yesterday. Of course, he would though because that’s just who he is. He’s an amazing friend and he’s always there for her no matter what. Even when she completely overreacts and brushes off his feelings. 

They found a semi-private area away from all the wedding guests with the most gorgeous view of the beach with the sun setting behind it. In different circumstances, she’d comment on it, tell him to take her picture right here so she’d be able to remember this day. Right now, she’s not sure she wants to. 

It was quiet for longer than she thought it would be. He was thinking and she didn’t want to rush him, but the time for cocktail hour was ticking down and plus, she just really, really wanted to know what was on his mind. 

“How could you not believe me?” He spoke up suddenly, turning to look at her. “I told you I loved you and you just…blew me off. That took…that took a lot and I don’t understand how you couldn’t see it.” 

He put her on the spot. Did she really want him to know just how insecure she was? And couldn’t he see that they’re not each other’s type? At all. 

“I..I don’t know, Harry. I wasn’t expecting it and when you said it, it just reminded me of that time at the fitting. You were saying what I already knew, so I just didn’t think that you’d change your mind.” 

“What did you already know?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed. She took a deep breath. 

“That you’re not interested in me. I mean, we’re supposed to be friends, so I don’t know why it mattered so much to me, but it hurt to hear you say that and I was so angry at you.” Looking back, she wants to roll her eyes at herself. It was pathetic how she acted. Why couldn’t she just talk to him? This could’ve been cleared up weeks ago. 

“But I am interested in you. I think I’ve said that six times by now,” When he stepped closer to her, he grabbed her hand, and she let him. That one night being on uneasy terms had really done some damage. She felt so lost without him when he wasn’t there for her to run to. He was such a support for her and she didn’t realize to what extent until he wasn’t an option. “I’m sorry that what I said upset you. I was pissed that day. Matthew wouldn’t stop talking about how hot you were and it just fucked with me…he asked me what I thought and I just…I said that. And none of it was true. I don’t know what I was thinking but I also wasn’t going to tell him of all people that I’ve had a crush on you since I met you.” 

She didn’t mean to do it, but she snatched her hand out of his to put it over her mouth. 

“You don’t mean that.” She shook her head. How couldn’t she have known? He chuckled, grasping her hand again and holding it to his chest, right over his heart.

“I do. It feels so good to finally tell you. I guess I didn’t do a good job at dropping hints, did I?” He squeezed her hand. 

She tried to recall every conversation they’ve ever had. And nothing came to mind. Nothing he did or said ever made her think that he might be thinking of her as more. In all their ten years together. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” She asked, letting him pull her closer to him. 

“I did. Every time I told you I loved you I meant it. Every day for ten years.” 

That almost made her weak in the knees. None of it made sense. Either he really is the worst at dropping hints or she’s blind. Maybe a healthy balance of the two is what kept them apart. 

“But I thought…none of your girlfriends have ever looked like me. I’m so far out of your league.” She wasn’t expecting him to wrap his arms around her back and press their chests together, but she didn’t exactly mind it either. 

“You are so out of my league. Never thought I deserved you. And of course they didn’t look like you because…you’re you. No one can compare.” 

“You don’t mean that.” Her hand swatted his shoulder before she wrapped her arms around his neck and let herself melt into him. 

“I’d never lie to you and I would never play with your feelings either. You mean so much to me. I couldn’t not tell you yesterday on the beach when you looked like that…like this. You drive me insane,” He pulled them closer together, though it was almost impossible with how they were already standing. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

What was she to do? She had never given it much thought, but over the last month, convincing herself that she’d never be good enough for him, was torturous. But he’s here now, making all the wrongs right and making her chest feel tight. In the best way. She couldn’t help it. 

A tear hurried down her cheek and he gently wiped it away, shaking his head at her, telling her not to cry. He always said he hated that. 

“I’m so sorry,” Her eyes squeezed shut and she shoved her face into his shoulder, forgetting about her makeup that was probably going to be ruined by the time they were done. “I wish that I just talked to you so we didn’t have to do this right now. I’m sorry.” 

He shushed her, leaning his head against hers. 

“It’s okay. We’re here now, right? And you obviously don’t hate that I have a crush on you. Have a crush on me or something?” He nudged his nose against her temple. “Hm?” 

“Maybe. Now that I think of it.” She muttered, not moving from his shoulder yet. 

“Maybe? Come on, I know you love me.” 

“I do love you.” She pulled back, meeting his eyes again. He was smiling, looking relieved. She felt it too. This conversation had been a long time coming and now that they’re both on the same page, all the tension has left her body. She can relax and finally enjoy the wedding. 

“Then, kiss me.”

That had her freezing, looking up at him in shock. 

“What?” She breathed out, suddenly short on breath. Kissing him would make it all true. Not that she still didn’t believe him but it would mean it’s real. And that might just be too much for her. 

“You’ve never thought about kissing me? Now I know you’re lying.” He laughed when she shot him a look. 

“No, I just didn’t know you wanted to do that now.” 

“Well, I do. Right this minute.” 

“Really? Right here?”

“I think I’m speaking pretty plain English, yes. Right here, right now. Kiss me. I’ve been waiting for years, no exaggeration.” One of his hands left her back to tilt her chin toward him. 

“Wait. What if it’s a bad first kiss? I’ll probably ruin it because I’m so nervous. And then you’ll change your mind.” She didn’t mean to say all of that all at once but all her worries came pouring out of her when she really didn’t want them to. 

“How could it be bad? Are you stalling? Please, cocktail hour is almost over and I need to tell Landon that you love me and all that.” He tapped her chin, leaning down toward her, but she turned her head just in time. 

“Landon knows?” 

“Everyone knows. But you, my love. And maybe Matthew. Fucking idiot.” He rolled his eyes.

“How could I be the only one who doesn’t know? That doesn’t sound—”

He grew impatient with her and pressed his mouth to hers, effectively cutting her off and effectively making her forget any doubts she’d ever had. 

While it was a long time coming, it happened at just the right time. 

They pulled away, trying to catch their breath. 

“Fuck me. I think that’s my new favorite thing,” He pecked her lips two more times and then he checked his watch. “One more kiss and then we’ve got to get to cocktail hour. You can kiss me all you want back in our room.” 

****

I had this finished a week or so ago but I decided to wait because last week was a lot. I hope you are all doing well and I hope you like this one!! 🖤

tags: @vamprry @sunflowersloverr @tenaciousperfectionunknown @caynonmoondreams @elidoho @peterbenjaminparke07 @daydreamingofmatilda @kissitnhekitchen @amberbambridge @danaehldy @straightontilmornin @forgetdelaney @harrysonlylover @me-undiscovered @80s-outsiders @littlenatilda @outofthisworl-d @butdaddyilovehim-hs @cherrys4suckers @harrystylessslut @hssunflowervol6 @indierockgirrl @satellitelh @daphnesutton @opheliaofficial07 @nathalielovesonedirection @velvetballaspark @watermelonlover @kathb59 @harrysolaf @szoszi2004 @ellaorchard @trooooye @daylighthazzz @prettytulips @stylesfever @mayamonroem @slut-for-artists @in-omn1a-paratus @lunaharrygurl @uncassettodiricordi @a-strange-familiar @sassamanda77 @fangirl509east @voniikg @adore-you-hs2 @m0mmyfromtarget @savannahwendel @babyyhoneyyy @mrschanandlerb @illicitverstappen

*I had more than 50 tags so I had to take out the ones that weren’t working ☹️☹️ sorry*

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 | 𝐇.𝐒 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐧’𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐬. [nov’18–may’19]

requested!! thank u anon, i hope u enjoy :)

𝐂𝐖: unexpected pregnancy, labor + labor pains, fem!reader. i think that’s it!!

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: approx 12.3k

❏ hope yall don’t mind that i included louis in this. i miss him fr. also, thank u again anon <3 hope this wasn’t too long

not my gif. if u have the info of the original creator, lmk so i can appropriately credit them.

Life had slowed, but only just—somehow still breezy with that undercurrent of momentum that carried him from One Direction fevered heights, to the steady rhythm of his own solo journey. Fame was no stranger, but this? These moments were the ones he cherished most. He glanced at his wife, her eyes twinkling as she sat with their son. The simple joy of this evening reminded him of how far they had come. The quiet, intimate wedding in Holmes Chapel five years ago, the shockwaves it sent through the internet because they had managed to keep it so private, and then, only a year later, the unexpected news that YN was pregnant with Atlas.

He could still remember the exact moment he found out about their little surprise, how the world had seemed to tilt on its axis when she told him. It had been unplanned, a complete shock, but one that had filled him with a profound sense of love and responsibility.

Five years ago felt like a lifetime ago, yet it also felt like yesterday.

Five Years Earlier – November first, Holmes Chapel

The cold was sharp outside, but the small cottage Harry and YN had rented for the holiday season felt warm, cozy even. A fire crackled softly in the fireplace, and YN sat curled up on the couch, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. Outside, a gentle snow, the first of the season, had started to fall, covering the village in a blanket of white.

Harry had been out all day, helping his mother with some last-minute holiday preparations. The quiet of the house felt calming to YN, but there was something on her mind, something that had been gnawing at her for the past month. Her period was late—later than it had ever been.

She had noticed other small things too. A slight queasiness in the mornings that she initially brushed off as stress from the hectic, upcoming holiday season. But now, as she sat there, the weight of realization started to sink in. She might be pregnant.

Her heart pounded as she thought about it. They hadn’t planned for this. They had only been married for about a year, and though they had talked about children, it had always been a vague, distant future sort of conversation. But now, the possibility was staring her in the face, and she wasn’t sure how Harry would react.

Would he be excited? Nervous? Overwhelmed?

She glanced at her phone, considering whether to text him and ask him to pick up a pregnancy test on his way home. No, that felt too impersonal.

She had paced the empty hallways of the cottage, occasionally texting her husband back or scrolling through instagram. She knew Harry like the back of her hand, he wouldn’t be upset—perhaps a bit overwhelmed, but upset? No, from the years they’ve known each other, he loved children. She couldn’t count on her fingers the amount of dance sessions, hide and go seeks, and cartoon watching she’d walk in on when he was with the children of his family or friends. And from the discussions they’ve shared of their own future children, she knew he’d be ecstatic—she just didn’t think it’d be so soon.

A few hours later, the front door creaked open, and Harry’s voice echoed through the small cottage. “Lovey, y’here? S’cold as hell out there.”

She stood, wrapping Harry’s sweater tighter around her frame, trying to keep her nerves in check as she walked towards him. He looked so carefree, a light dusting of snow in his hair, his cheeks rosy from the cold, a grin already stretching across his face when he saw her.

“Got y’favorite mince pies from the bakery,” he announced, holding up a small paper bag as he walked towards her. “Mum says we need to fatten you up f’the winter.”

YN laughed softly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She could feel the words bubbling up in her throat, but she didn’t know how to say them. Instead, she took the bag from him and set it on the counter.

He began to shuffle around the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a few glasses. He absentmindedly hummed a tune his wife didn’t quite recognize as he floated toward the freezer, pulling out a frosted glass bottle of rum with a smile. “Mum said she would’ve made it herself but–” He laughed, shaking his head as he set the bottle down on the counter with a heavy clank. “She’s decorating the house. Looks like autumn threw up in there.”

YN only responded in a gentle chuckle, one that made him look up with his eyebrows furrowed. Harry frowned, immediately noticing the shift in her demeanor. He paused, his eyes scanning her face with concern. “Everything alright, sweet girl?”

She swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice. Her eyes burrowed into his, shifting gaze from one eye to the other. Her lips parted, unsure of how to form the words that sat heavily in her throat. She exhaled, managing a smile as she shook her head. “Just a bit tired, thats all.”

She couldn’t tell him until she was sure. If he were to be overjoyed, she didn’t want to get his hopes up on the off-chance she wasn’t pregnant.

Harry paused for a moment, not fully convinced, but he didn’t want to push. If something was wrong, she’d tell him when she felt ready. So, he only smiled back as he unscrewed the rum and poured into the square glasses. He looked at her expectantly as he raised his eyebrows, bringing her a glass.

She stared at it as if it would jump out at her, her reflection waning in the amber liquid. She pulled her lips between her teeth, shaking her head as her cheeks flushed. “Not feeling it tonight.”

At that point, Harry knew something was wrong. He furrowed his eyebrows, setting her—well, what was supposed to be hers—drink on the counter before he took a sip of his. “You sure y’alright?”

She brushed it off with a laugh, stepping toward him as he remained leaning against the counter. YN pressed a gentle kiss on his rum-slicked lips, cold to the touch. “You worry too much.”

He wrapped his arm around her head, pulling her into his chest with a sigh. “Rightfully so, m’love. Stubborn as a mule, you are.”

She scoffed, though only humor was laced in her tone. She pushed back from him, folding her arms over her chest with a feigned frown.

“What?” He smiled, taking another sip. “Should be titled an archeologist the way I dig for your heart.”

“Oh shut it, Styles. You’ve done no such thing.”

He laughed, placing his glass on the counter behind him and gently holding onto the edges. “You’re only proving my point, lovey.”

She rolled her eyes, flicking his chest before she began to step off toward the bedroom. YN looked over her shoulder expectantly with a sly smile. “You’re not gonna join me?”

She didn’t need to ask him twice.

He tugged his shirt off, tossing it aside as his wife’s laughter echoed down the hallway. She darted toward their bedroom, her giggles trailing behind her like music. Grabbing his glass from the counter and kicking off his shoes, he chased after her, a wide, mischievous grin lighting up his face.

There was a gloomy, gray sky the next morning, the kind where the clouds stretched thick across the sky, holding back any hint of sun. YN had woken up before dawn with a gnawing queasiness—a feeling that had been creeping up more often lately. She pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to calm the discomfort.

She reached into the plastic bag, pulling out the small pregnancy test she ordered from doordash before the sun rose. She had tipped the dasher generously before staring at it in the restroom for what felt like hours. Her mind buzzed, unsteady with thoughts she couldn’t quite wrangle. The idea of being pregnant had only crossed her mind like a shooting star. She was nervous. They were still basking in the simplicity of their life, the unexpected quiet of their year-old marriage. This hadn’t been in the plan.

But here she was, two minutes ticking by like hours as she stared at the test resting on the edge of the sink.

And then, there it was.

Two blue lines.

Her heart raced, a mix of emotions she could barely process flooded her chest. She didn’t know what she was supposed to feel—excitement, worry, fear? It was all tangled together in a knot she didn’t have the strength to untangle. She felt a hint of guilt wash over her; how could she feel uncertain about something so beautiful? But it was real, and she knew it. This was so real.

She sank to the edge of the clawfoot tub in the small bathroom, hugging her arms around herself. She let herself sit there for a while, just breathing in and out, letting the realization wash over her like waves on a shore, eroding her hesitation bit by bit. Eventually, she felt a warmth begin to spread, a tentative but growing love, a sense that maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be.

Oh, god—but Harry.

Mere discussions about a hazy future never felt so prophetic.

Footsteps on the old wooden floor outside the bathroom brought her back to reality. Harry’s voice called from the kitchen, warm and sleepy, a mug clinking on the counter. “Love, you up?”

Her stomach twisted again, this time more with nerves than nausea. She took a deep breath, tucking the test in her hand and opening the door. As she stepped out, she found her husband leaning against the counter, his hair tousled from sleep, a soft smile on his face as he sipped from his mug.

“Couldn’t fall back asleep,” she murmured, her voice just above a whisper.

Harry raised an eyebrow, setting down his mug as he studied her face, his expression shifting to one of gentle concern. ”You’ve been off since yesterday, please, just tell me what’s wrong?”

YN took a breath, feeling the weight of the words she was about to speak. She crossed the small space between them, the floorboards creaking softly under her bare feet. Her hands trembled as she reached for his, and he immediately stilled, sensing her unease.

“Don’t freak out, okay?“ She said, her voice breaking ever so slightly.

Harry’s gaze softened, his fingers curling around hers. “Alright,” he murmured, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. “Swear it.”

She swallowed, her eyes dropping to where their hands joined, and finally, she managed to say it. “I’m–” she sighed, “I’m pregnant.”

The words hung in the air between them, and she felt his hand go still, his thumb pausing mid-stroke. She dared a glance up at his face, and in his eyes, she saw the shock she’d been expecting. His mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.

It was the longest silence she’d ever felt.

And then, slowly, a smile began to break across his face, soft at first, hesitant, but growing. His eyes sparkled with something she hadn’t expected—something gentle and pure, and so, so warm. “You’re… serious?”

She nodded, a soft laugh escaping her lips, a mix of nerves and relief. “Yeah. I know it’s not what we planned, and I—”

Harry pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up tightly as if he never wanted to let go. She felt his heartbeat racing against her cheek, felt the slight tremor in his breath as he held her.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes glassy with emotion. “This is… I mean, I wasn’t expecting this, but…” He paused, his voice catching. “But, YN, this—this is everything.”

A smile broke across her face, the warmth in her chest growing, all her fears melting as she looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

Harry laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. “I’m sure.” His eyes held hers, full of something she could only describe as love beyond anything she’d known before. “I mean, look at us. We’ve done everything backwards and upside down, haven’t we?” He chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Why not this too?”

They laughed together, and in that moment, all her worries felt so small, so distant. Harry pressed his forehead against hers, his hands holding her gently. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered. “We’re going to be parents?”

YN nodded, her own laughter mingling with tears she hadn’t realized were there. “I guess we are.”

Harry wrapped her up again, his arms strong and sure around her. “Our little family.” He looked around, a spark of excitement lighting his gaze. “The start of everything, right here.”

They stood there, wrapped up in each other, in the quiet of the small cottage, a peacefulness settling over them. The morning light had started to creep in through the windows, casting a soft glow over them, and for a moment, the world felt perfectly still.

But as the initial excitement settled, the reality of the situation hit her hard. Morning sickness, which was more like all day sickness for YN, kicked in with a vengeance. She wondered what crime she may have committed in a past life to deserve such a karma.

She spent most of her mornings hunched over the toilet, her stomach in knots, while Harry hovered nearby, rubbing her back and murmuring soothing words. “It’ll pass, baby.” He would say, though there was a flicker of worry in his eyes every time she retched.

The first trimester was rough. YN felt exhausted all the time, her body aching and her emotions all over the place. There were days when she could barely keep food down, and the nausea was so overwhelming that she couldn’t even stand the smell of Harry’s cologne.

But through it all, he was a constant source of support. He made her ginger tea in the mornings, rubbed her feet when they swelled, and stayed up late with her on the nights when she couldn’t sleep. He even held her hair back during the worst bouts of sickness, never once complaining or losing his patience.

Still, telling their friends and family was daunting. Anne had been thrilled, of course, immediately launching into grandma mode, talking about knitting booties and baby blankets. But YN worried about telling the public. Harry had always been fiercely protective of their privacy, and the idea of sharing something so intimate with the world felt overwhelming.

“I don’t want people to think anything bad of me.” She admitted to him one night as they lay in bed. She had spent the entire day feeling nauseous, and her nerves were frayed.

Harry propped himself up on one elbow, looking at her with a gentle smile. “No one’s going to think like that, baby.. And if they do, then screw ‘em. This is our family. No one else’s.”

His words, simple as they were, helped ease some of the anxiety gnawing at her. They would announce it when they were ready, and in the meantime, they would enjoy these private, intimate moments together.

A few weeks later, when YN was finally starting to feel a little better, they gathered their closest friends and family to tell them the news. Harry’s friend’s were among the first to know. They had gathered at their place in London, a casual get-together that didn’t feel too obvious or formal.

Jeff had been the first to catch on, his brow furrowing as he noticed YN sipping ginger ale instead of her usual glass of wine on occasions like these. “Wait a minute…” he began, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he glanced between them. Oh God, you’re pregnant aren’t you?”

The room fell silent for a moment as Harry and YN exchanged a glance, a grin tugging at Harry’s lips. “Surprise!”

The room erupted into chaos. Mitch nearly fell out of his chair, laughing and shouting congratulations at the same time. Pauli looked like he might cry, and Sarah immediately started teasing Harry about how he’d better get used to sleepless nights.

“You two are gonna be knackered for the next eighteen years,” she quipped, though there was a deep affection in her eyes as she clapped Harry on the back. “But you’ll be great parents. I know it.”

As the weeks continued to pass and YN’s belly began to show, Harry’s excitement seemed to grow right along with it. He took over more and more of the household chores, practically hovering over her with a devotion that was both endearing and—just occasionally—a little over the top. But that was Harry; he never did anything halfway, and preparing to become a dad was no exception.

One evening, after a long day, they lay in bed, YN nestled against Harry’s chest as he rested a hand on her belly. His fingers traced slow, absentminded circles over her small bump, his gaze softening as he looked down at her.

“Have y’thought about names?” he asked quietly, voice almost a murmur. There was a trace of wonder in his eyes, as if he were asking the question for the first time.

She smiled, shrugging lightly. The idea of names had been floating around in her mind for a while, but nothing had quite felt right yet. “Mm, I’ve got a few in mind,” she said with a teasing glint in her eye. “Think I’m just gonna call ’em Fetus for now.”

Harry let out a laugh, his face lighting up as he shook his head. “Poor kid,” he said, voice full of warmth. He shifted lower, pressing a soft kiss to her belly. “Fetus Styles,” he whispered against her skin, his lips brushing her gently, sending a spark of laughter through her.

Her smile never faltered, fingers combing through his curls as he settled his head on her bump, gazing up at her through his lashes. He held her gaze for a moment, then suddenly broke into a grin, blowing raspberries onto her belly with glint in his eye.

She laughed, Harry faltering into her growing tummy as his phone began to ting with a mess of texts. He grabbed his phone that lay upon his wife’s thighs, sitting up beside her against the headboard with a wide smile as the phone illuminated his face.

She knit her eyebrows together, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Who has you smiling?”

He unlocked his phone, “Lou. I told him I had to talk to him tonight.”

She laughed as Harry clicked on the contact, pressing the facetime icon as the ringing filled the air. “It’s what..?” She trailed off, flickering her eyes in thought. “Noon in LA? Surprised he’s even up.”

After a beat, the screen flashed to life, and there he was—Louis, bleary-eyed, half-sprawled across his couch, nursing a mug of tea. He squinted at the screen, a smirk forming as he took them both in.

“Bloody ‘ell, look at you two all cozy!” He drawled, taking a sip. “Thought I was interrupting somethin’.” He chuckled, giving them a teasing wink.

Harry rolled his eyes, holding the phone between them. “Shut up. We’re just havin’ a quiet night in.” He glanced over at YN, then back at the screen, his grin a little wider. “‘Nd I needed to talk t’you, yeah?”

Louis’s smirk softened, curiosity lighting up his expression. “Right. What’s this then?”

He took a quick breath, almost unable to keep the smile off his face as he turned the phone back to YN, who gave Louis a warm smile before glancing at Harry. He squeezed her shoulder, then looked back to the screen, letting the words tumble out. “We’re havin’ a baby!”

For a moment, Louis just stared, the mug paused halfway to his lips as he absorbed the words. His mouth broke into a grin, and he let out a laugh. “Oi, you’re pullin’ my leg!” He leaned closer, shaking his head. “Wait, wait, you’re serious, aren’t ya?”

“Dead serious,” YN said, her voice gentle as she leaned in closer to Harry. “We’ve known for a few weeks now, but wanted to tell you ourselves.”

He sat up straighter, rubbing a hand over his face as he took it in, his grin somehow widening. “Jesus, Haz. A dad,” he mused, a playful sparkle in his eye. “I mean, didn’t see this comin’ back when you were too busy worryin’ about a pair of blue suede shoes to think about nappies.”

Harry let out a laugh, playfully nudging YN. “See, I’m just followin’ y’example, mate.”

Louis snorted, giving a mock scowl. “Better be—Freddie’s halfway to graduating high school it feels like. You’ve got some catchin’ up to do.” He settled back into the couch, softening as he looked at them both. “But seriously, this is brilliant, you two. Gonna make one hell of a mum and dad, aren’t ya?”

Harry glanced over at YN, his gaze lingering, soft and full of a quiet pride. “Hope so,” he said, smiling down at her before turning back to Louis. “Just been… sittin’ with it. So many things I wanna teach ’em, y’know?”

“Best get started on that lullaby playlist, then,” Lou teased, though there was warmth in his tone. “Bet you’re already plannin’ that first guitar lesson.”

YN laughed, rubbing a hand over her belly. “It’s just been a whirlwind, honestly. We haven’t even found out the gender yet.”

Louis grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Surprise ’n all? Makes it even better. Though if y’need tips on anythin’, I’ve got all the dad tricks—like what not to say when they’re askin’ questions in front of their mum.”

“Great,” Harry chuckled. “Start a whole book for me, will ya?”

Lou winked, lifting his mug. “Already makin’ notes. First chapter’s on nappies and the art of avoidin’ baby food on your shirt.” Then, his expression softened as he leaned closer. “Nah, for real. Couldn’t be happier for you two. And for that kid, too. Already got the best start with you both.”

Harry swallowed, his hand finding YN’s, giving it a gentle squeeze as he held his friend’s gaze through the screen. “Means a lot, you’ll be his grumpy, old uncle, yeah?”

Louis grinned, nodding with a playful glint in his eye. “Best be—I’ll have ’em singin’ the chorus to No Control by the time I’m done. YN, darling, don’t you worry—I’ll keep him in line.”

YN chuckled, leaning her head on Harry’s shoulder. “I’ll hold you to that, Lou.”

“Damn right you will,” Louis shot back, settling back against his couch, eyes full of pride and a mischievous excitement. “And when I’m back over, s’gonna be you two doin’ the nappies, while I teach that kid how to annoy his dad.”

Harry feigned a groan, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Cheers, mate.” Louis raised his mug, a glimmer of something genuine in his gaze. “Can’t wait. Love you both, yeah?”

Harry grinned, feeling the weight of Louis’s words. “Love you, too, Lou. Cheers.”

And as they hung up, YN nestled closer, both of them feeling the joy of sharing their secret with someone who’d been there for it all.

A few months had passed, and YN was officially eighteen weeks pregnant. The kitchen was quiet, filled with the warm scent of vanilla as Harry carefully set a single white cupcake on the counter. He’d insisted on something private, just the two of them. No big reveal party or confetti—just a simple cupcake with the surprise hidden inside. YN stood beside him, hands resting on her bump, a grin tugging at her lips as she watched him fuss over it.

“You’re really gonna make me cry over a cupcake, aren’t you?” she teased, nudging him lightly.

Harry’s eyes sparkled as he looked over at her, dimples deepening. “Just y’wait.” He handed her the small knife, his fingers brushing hers, and his voice softened. “Ready?”

She nodded, her heartbeat picking up as she sliced through the cupcake. Slowly, she pulled the two halves apart, then stared down at the filling inside.

Bright green.

For a moment, they both froze, staring down in complete confusion. Harry tilted his head, mouth slightly open, brow furrowed as he looked at her, then back at the cupcake. “Uh… m’pretty sure green wasn’t one of the options.”

YN snorted, a laugh bubbling out as she lifted the cupcake up to inspect it. “Maybe they’re tellin’ us we’re having a little Niall?”

Harry’s eyes crinkled as he burst into laughter, clutching his chest. “God help us if there’s a little Irish guitar player in there.”

She grinned, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. “You think they’ll come out singin’ ‘Mull of Kintyre’?”

Harry laughed, covering his face with his hand. “First words’ll be potato, just y’watch.” He shook his head, still chuckling. “This is what we get for trustin’ a bloody cupcake.”

She rolled her eyes, reaching for her bag on the counter. “Should’ve gone with the doctor’s letter instead of dessert.” After a moment of rummaging, she triumphantly held up the small, folded envelope, smiling. “Alright, now you ready?”

Harry nodded, moving closer, his hand resting gently over hers as she slowly unfolded the paper. They both took a breath, glancing at each other before reading the bold, printed words inside.

Right underneath a blurry ultrasound picture printed onto the visit summary, there it was written.

Fetal sex: Male

For a heartbeat, they both just stared at the words, the realization washing over them like a warm tide.

“A little boy,” Harry murmured, his voice filled with awe as he shook his head in disbelief. “We’re gonna have a son.”

YN’s eyes sparkled as she looked at him, a wide smile breaking across her face. “A son,” she repeated softly, her hand covering his on her belly. Already, she could see him—a little boy with Harry’s eyes, his laughter, his kindness.

Harry swallowed, his own eyes misty as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, then resting his against hers. “Think we’re ready for him?”

She let out a soft laugh, brushing away a tear. “Not even close,” she whispered, her fingers lacing with his over her belly. “But I think we’ll do just fine.”

It was mid February by this point, a few weeks after celebrating Harry’s twenty-fifth birthday. The air had a sharp chill, and YN readjusted Harry’s oversized hoodie that hung off her growing frame, something that hid her bump well. They were dressed comfy and warm, Harry in a pair of sunnies with his hoodie pulled over his head. She nestled closer into her husband as they walked through the quiet side streets of London. They’d just finished lunch at their favorite café, savoring the rare chance to slip out together unnoticed. She pulled the hoodie over her head as a gust of wind brushed by.

“Wish we had days like this more often,” Harry murmured, his fingers lacing through hers as they made their way back to the car. “Just us, y’know?”

She smiled, leaning into him. “You mean just the two of us and fetus?”

Harry squeaked out a laugh that sounded like the ones from his early days in the x-factor, squeezing her hand. “Right, fetus. Can’t forget our little tagalong now.”

But as they turned onto the next street, something shifted—a distant hum of voices, then a sharp click of a camera. Before they could react, the quiet street filled with flashes, and a group of paparazzi materialized around them, spilling onto the sidewalk.

It wasn’t a swarm, just about five or so that were tipped off about Harry walking about the city in a pair of sunnies, as if that could keep him hidden.

“Harry! Harry! Just one photo!” A bald man shouted, pushing forward. The camera flashes came in rapid succession, blinding in the midday light.

He immediately shifted, drawing YN closer to his side, his hand protectively resting into her waist as he tried to steer her forward. “Alright, mate, that’s close enough,” he called out, his voice tense but calm.

“Harry, are the rumors true?” another voice shouted, barely inches from them, more cameras held up like a barrier.

“Just please let us through, yeah?” Harry’s voice was firmer now, his hand moving to shield YN’s face, pressing her into his chest as the crowd closed in tighter.

A jostle from the side sent her stumbling, and Harry’s arm tightened around her, his jaw clenched. “Hey, enough!” he barked, his voice sharper than she’d ever heard it. He guided her forward, his body acting as a buffer as he tried to clear a path.

“Just one shot, Harry!” a paparazzo persisted, his lens pointed squarely at YN, his hand cupping her cheek as he pressed her face further into his chest, her heart pounding as she held onto Harry.

He shot a glare of his shoulder, jaw clenched as he remained silent, maneuvering his wife past the cameras, his hand never leaving her. He kept his eyes trained ahead as he led her through the last stretch to his car.

Finally reaching the door, he opened it for her, a quick but steady gesture, ushering her in and following right after. The cameras pressed in one last time as he shut the door firmly, finally sealing them off from the swarm outside.

Inside, the car was quiet, insulated from the chaos that still buzzed outside, windows tinted as legally possible. YN let out a shaky breath, her hands in her hoodie pocket as she glanced over at Harry. His face was flushed, a mix of worry and lingering frustration in his eyes.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice gentler now, his hand pulling hers out of the pocket, thumb brushing over her knuckles as he studied her face.

She nodded with a faint smile, trying to steady herself. “Not our first rodeo, H.” She tried to joke. And it was true, it surely wasn’t the first time they’ve been bombarded by paps. YN wasn’t famous prior to meeting Harry, a smart girl as beautiful as she, he simply couldn’t ignore.

She was a friend of Anne’s best friend’s daughter, bumping into each other at a family gathering in 2014, immediately becoming close friends. He offered her a ride home that night, and when she thanked him profusely and offered to give him gas money, he knew then and there he was going to fall in love with this woman.

Fans and paps galore started delving into her life in late 2015, when a grainy picture of them kissing at a bar after a London show exploded on twitter. Since then, she always known about the lack of privacy in Harry’s life. And honestly, she’s still trying to adjust to it.

He exhaled, his fingers tightening around hers. “Hate that they got that close to you. Wish they’d just..” He trailed off, clenching his jaw as he glanced out the window, his gaze hardening when he saw the cameras still lingering in the distance.

She squeezed his hand, her voice soft. “It’s alright, baby. I’m alright.” She could see the tension in his shoulders slowly easing, though he still held her hand as if anchoring himself. “They don’t know, and that’s okay for now. It’s just us, remember?”

Harry nodded as he pulled from the curb, driving down the narrow street toward the red light. He turned back to her, his green eyes softening, and he nodded slowly. “Just us. Right.” His shoulders relaxed a little more, a trace of a smile returning to his face as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead while the light was still red.

But before he could pull away, she let out a small gasp, eyes widening as she felt a firm, insistent little nudge low on her belly. She looked up at him, her own hand moving instinctively to her bump.

Green illuminated over them, a honking echoing from behind as he froze in concern. “What?” He breathed, turning a corner to head to the grocery store in the distance, seeking a temporary refuge in the parking lot. He glanced between YN and the road, heart beating in his ears. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He raised his voice, though it wasn’t out of anger, just an anxiety that threatened to boil over.

She shook her head, her face breaking into a soft smile. “Nothing’s wrong, Harry. He just kicked.”

Harry’s eyes lit up instantly, his frustration melting away as he stared at her, a grin forming slowly. “He did?”

She nodded, pulling his hand to her belly as he parked. “Right here. Just now.”

He held his breath, his palm pressed against her bump, waiting. And there it was again—a tiny but unmistakable kick, nudging firmly against his hand.

Harry’s face broke into a radiant smile, his whole expression softening with awe. “Oi, there’s my little striker,” he mused, his voice thick with affection as he looked down at her belly. “We’ll have you in a Man United kit before you’re out of nappies, won’t we?”

She laughed, his words melting away the last traces of tension from the encounter outside. “Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you? Picking his team and all?”

He grinned, his eyes crinkling with pure excitement. “No chance he’ll be an Arsenal player.. First kicks mean we’ve got a future midfielder on our hands, yeah?” He grinned, “Dads gonna make sure y’got the right colors on you, bub.”

YN couldn’t help but laugh, her heart swelling as she watched the joy take over his face. She reached up, tucking a curl behind his ear, her fingers lingering against his cheek. “He’s already got you wrapped around his tiny little foot.”

Harry chuckled, leaning in to kiss her, his hand still resting against her belly, feeling another small nudge. “S’pose I’ll let him get away with it. Just this once.”

*

March arrived in a blink.

It was early, the kind of early that still belonged to the night, when Harry’s phone buzzed on the bedside table. The world outside was still draped in darkness, the streets silent, as if London itself hadn’t quite woken up. Harry stirred, slowly pulled from the depths of sleep by the vibration of his phone. He squinted in the dim light, his vision blurry, barely able to make out the name on the screen. Jeff.

With a quiet sigh, Harry picked up the phone, pressing it to his ear and trying to shake off the last bits of sleep that clung to him. He glanced over to YN, who lay nestled beside him, her breathing soft and even, lost in a peaceful slumber. Gently, he reached out and brushed his fingers along her cheek, a tired but adoring smile tugging at his lips. She stirred slightly, her head nuzzling into his hand, and he felt a warmth rise in his chest. Moments like this felt sacred, untouched by the outside world.

But then Jeff’s voice broke through the stillness, sharp and apologetic.

“Harry,” Jeff said, his tone low and serious, as if he wished he were calling for any other reason. “Listen, I hate to do this to you, but we’ve got a situation.”

Harry straightened, a cold feeling settling in his stomach. “What is it, mate?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, unwilling to wake YN just yet. He kept his hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing gently along her skin, grounding himself as he listened.

“There’s a magazine,” Jeff continued with a hesitant sigh. “They got photos of you and YN leaving the clinic yesterday after the ultrasound. They’re planning to release them tomorrow—noon sharp.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Harry’s jaw tightened after he took a shaky breath, his eyes falling back on YN, still blissfully asleep. They’d planned everything so carefully, wanting to share the news of their son on their own terms. They’d waited for the perfect moment, wanting to protect this piece of their life from the relentless intrusion of the outside world. And now, it was slipping out of their hands.

“Tomorrow?” he murmured, his heart pounding. He felt a surge of anger rising, and he closed his eyes, trying to steady himself. Jeff waited in silence on the other end of the line, letting him process the news.

“Yeah,” Jeff said softly. “I wanted to give you a heads-up. Figured you’d want to tell people yourselves, do it in a way that feels right.”

Harry nodded, even though Jeff couldn’t see him, his fingers still resting on YN’s cheek, feeling the soft warmth of her skin. “Thanks, Jeff,” he finally whispered, his voice tight. “I’ll–erm–we’ll figure it out.”

He ended the call and placed the phone back on the table, his shoulders slumping as he tried to process what to do next. He looked down at YN, her face peaceful in the darkness, and he felt a pang of guilt at the thought of waking her. She deserved this moment of rest, free from worry and the weight of the world pressing in on them. But he knew he couldn’t keep this from her. Not when it was about their son.

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his hand moving to cradle her cheek as he murmured softly, “Baby, wake up.”

She stirred, her brows knitting together as she blinked up at him, still half-asleep, a faint smile gracing her lips as she registered his face. “H?” she whispered, her voice groggy and warm. “What time is it?”

“Too early,” he murmured, his own voice weighed down by the news he had to deliver. “Sorry t’wake you, but there’s something we need t‘talk about.”

Her eyes focused, a flicker of concern replacing the drowsiness as she sat up a bit, her hand resting on his. “What’s wrong?”

Harry took a deep breath, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “It’s the pictures,” he paused with a sigh, “from yesterday, after our appointment. Paparazzi took photos, and they’re planning to release them by noon tomorrow.”

The weight of his words settled over her, and she let out a quiet sigh, her gaze dropping to the bed. They’d known this was a possibility—their lives were never entirely private—but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. She leaned into his touch, her fingers lacing through his as they both sat there in the stillness of the early morning, grappling with the realization that their hand was being forced.

“What do we do?” she asked softly, looking up at him with a mixture of worry and sadness.

Harry’s hand moved to hold hers, his grip gentle but steady. “We tell everyone ourselves. Today. We’ll release it before they can, on our own terms.” He paused, his voice softening. “It’s not what we planned, but, at least we can still share him with the world our way.”

YN gave him a small nod, her eyes meeting his with a quiet resilience. They both knew they didn’t have any other choice. She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they took a moment to steady themselves, finding strength in each other.

“Okay,” she murmured after a beat. “I trust you.”

They spent the next hour in the quiet sanctuary of their bedroom, talking about how to share the news. Eventually, Harry decided on something simple, something that would feel personal without giving too much away. He reached for his phone and opened the photo gallery, scrolling until he found the ultrasound image from their last appointment. It was a grainy black-and-white shot, but to him, it was beautiful—a glimpse of their son, small and precious, already loved beyond measure.

He glanced at YN, who gave him a reassuring nod, and then he took a deep breath, opening Instagram. With his fingers hovering over the screen, he crafted the caption, choosing each word carefully, his heart pounding in his chest.

I’ve been waiting to share this part of our journey with you all for a while now. YN and I are expecting a son, and we couldn’t be happier to welcome him into the world soon. Thank you for your love and support—can’t wait for you to meet him.

Love, H

He read it over, then looked at YN, who leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. She gave him a small smile, her fingers brushing his arm. “It’s perfect, baby”

With a final deep breath, he hit post, setting the phone down and letting out a long, steadying exhale. They sat there in the quiet of their room, wrapped up in each other as the reality of what they’d just done settled over them. This was the first time they were sharing their son with the world, and it felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

Within moments, notifications began to flood in, messages of excitement, love, and support from fans around the world who had been waiting eagerly for news like this. Harry glanced at YN, his hand finding hers once more as he gave her a small, relieved smile.

”Cats out’v the bag.” He laughed softly.

She leaned into him, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “They love you, H. They’ll love him, too.” She reassured.

As the sun finally began to rise outside their window, casting a gentle warmth over the room, Harry held her close, feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t expected. Despite the forced timing, despite the circumstances, they had done this together. And from this moment on, they would continue this journ, hand in hand, as a family.

Weeks passed by, and it another chilly March evening, and soft candlelight flickered in the bathroom, casting a warm glow over the walls as steam rose lazily from the tub. The couple sat tucked into the water, surrounded by a mountain of bubbles that floated between them. The bathroom was cozy as Harry’s arms wrapped around her from behind, she leaned back against his chest, her bump nestled between them.

He’d insisted on running the bath for her, adding just the right amount of lavender oil to soothe her muscles, and now they were enveloped in that warm, calming scent, the soft sounds of water lapping around them. Harry’s hands rested gently on her belly, his fingers tracing light circles over the stretched skin as he hummed contentedly, clearly lost in thought.

After a few minutes of quiet, he dipped his head to press a kiss to her shoulder, murmuring, “You know, we haven’t really settled on a name yet.”

YN grinned, biting back a laugh. "Sure we have. Fetus Styles—don’t you remember?”

Harry groaned dramatically, his head falling back against the tub. "God help this boy."

She chuckled, turning her head to look at him. "Fine, fine. So, what do you have in mind, love?"

Harry hummed thoughtfully, his fingers still tracing light circles over her bump. "I dunno. Something that isn’t Fetus or something basic, like David.”

"Otis?" she suggested with a playful smirk. She knew he hated the name.

He snorted, his chest vibrating against her back, shaking his head. "Baby, Otis is the name of that big slobbery dog at the park. Our son deserves better than being named after a drool machine."

She playfully splashed a few bubbles toward him, her laughter filling the room.. "Alright, alright. So, we're vetoing Otis and Fetus, oh wise one.”

“Good,” he said, lowering his head ever so slightly and nibbling her shoulders gently. “So, what else is on your list, then?”

She leaned her head back against his shoulder, looking up at the ceiling as she tried to recall some of the names she’d been turning over in her mind. “I do like Ezra.”

“Ezra,” he repeated, as if tasting the sound of it. “It’s alright. But it sounds like he’d be in a jazz band or something.”

“Maybe he’ll be in a jazz band,” she countered, grinning as she nudged his arm. “A little musician just like his dad.”

Harry hummed, his fingers lightly drumming a rhythm against her belly. “Alright, fair point. Ezra can be a maybe. What else?”

She let out a thoughtful hum, swirling her hand through the bubbles. “What about August?”

“August’s alright I guess,” he said slowly, tilting his head as he considered it. “But I don’t know. August Styles..feels like he’d be a mischievous little troublemaker.”

“Like his dad, you mean?” she teased, glancing up at him with a knowing smile.

He grinned, shrugging. “If he takes after me, he’ll definitely be one,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But I dunno. Still doesn’t feel quite right. But I do like the idea of an A name.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, each of them lost in their thoughts as the water lapped softly around them. Harry’s hands moved back to her belly, his touch gentle and reverent, as if he were trying to connect with their son through the warm water and the growing curve of her bump. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the warmth of the bath and the feeling of his arms around her.

After a while, Harry spoke again, his voice soft and thoughtful. “What about Atlas?”

YN opened her eyes, blinking up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. “Atlas?”

“Yeah.” He shifted slightly, his hand still resting on her belly as he looked at her, his eyes warm. “It’s strong, y’know? Unique. I like the idea of him having a name that feels like he could carry the world if he wanted to.”

YN let the name settle, repeating it to herself, and feeling it take root, becoming more than just a word. “Atlas Styles,” she said softly, letting the sound roll off her tongue. “It fits him, I think. Strong like his kicks.” She giggled.

Harry’s face lit up as he grinned down at her, his dimples deepening, a twinkle of something unspoken sparking in his eyes. “Exactly,” he murmured, trailing a hand gently over her bump. “Atlas Styles. Got the name of a proper legend already. Manchester United should be countin’ themselves lucky.”

YN laughed again, rolling her eyes as she turned to face him. “Oh, really? Our boy is still going to save Manchester United, is he?”

“Obviously,” Harry said, his grin widening. “Just imagine it—Atlas Styles, midfield maestro, dominating the pitch. The crowd chanting his name.” He mimics the sound of a roaring crowd in a hush, “‘Atlas! Atlas!” He chanted in a whisper, “United will have never seen anything like him. They’d be winning the league every season with a name like that.”

She shook her head, fighting a laugh as she slipped a few bubbles onto his nose. “Right, because he won’t be busy enough carrying the world. He’ll just take Manchester United on his back too?”

Harry shrugged, brushing the bubbles away with a look of mock seriousness. “Our little Atlas can handle it all. With a name like that, he’ll be unstoppable.” He leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “But, if he’s not into football, I s’pose that’s alright too.”

YN smiled, squeezing his hand, warmth spreading through her as she thought of their little Atlas and all the dreams they had for him—footballer or not, world-bearer or not, he would be loved beyond measure.

*

The rain pattered softly against the window as April rolled in, casting a gentle gray light over the nursery. YN stood by the door, watching Harry wrestle with the crib pieces scattered across the floor. She cradled her belly, which had grown significantly in the last month. Her due date was set for mid-May, only a few weeks away, and she could feel the weight of their son settling lower, as if he, too, was getting ready for the journey ahead.

Harry sat cross-legged on the floor, brow furrowed in intense concentration as he squinted at the instruction manual. The crib, which he had eagerly declared would be a breeze to assemble, now looked more like puzzle pieces that lay scattered around him, screws and wooden slats in disarray, as he muttered under his breath.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” YN asked with a soft grin, leaning against the doorway as she watched him struggle.

He looked up, shooting her a playful glare. “I’ve got it, thanks,” he insisted, though he seemed far from convinced himself. He twisted a screwdriver, only for the wood to creak ominously in protest. Harry’s cheeks flushed, and YN bit her lip, stifling a laugh.

“Sure you do,” she teased, crossing her arms over her bump. “Maybe our son will be crawling by the time you figure that out.”

Harry chuckled, dropping the screwdriver with a resigned sigh. “Alright, alright,” he said, running a hand through his curls as he gave her a dramatic pout. “Go on, laugh at the man trying his best to be a good dad. Just what I need, huh?”

She laughed, stepping into the room to get a closer look at his progress—or lack thereof. “You’re doing great, honey,” she said, her tone light. “Maybe just… not great at building cribs?”

He rolled his eyes, but the hint of a grin played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to argue,” he mumbled. Then, before she could respond, he reached out, gently tugging her down to sit beside him.

“Hey!” she gasped, though she let him guide her down, leaning into his arms. Her back rested against his chest, and Harry wrapped his arms around her middle, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

He maneuvered her gently onto the carpet, hovering over as his hands resting on either side of her, leaning close, his face only inches from hers, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Maybe I should distract you so y’can’t mock me,” he murmured, his voice teasing.

Before she could respond, he started peppering her face with kisses—one on her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her chin. She squealed, laughing as he continued, his lips brushing against her skin, his stubble tickling her and sending her into a fit of giggles.

“Harry!” she gasped between breaths, her hands on his shoulders as she tried to squirm away. “You’re ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous?” he repeated, grinning as he planted a kiss just above her lips. “Maybe. But it’s working, isn’t it?”

She gave him a playful shove, but he only laughed, pulling her closer as he trailed his kisses down to her neck, the weight of him comforting as he hovered over her, his hands gentle on her sides. Finally, when her laughter had softened, he leaned back just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze warm and full of affection.

God, how he loved her.

After a moment, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. “Alright,” he said with a sigh, glancing over at the mess of crib parts. “Maybe I could use those hands of yours.”

YN smiled, brushing her hand down his chest. “Hm,” she hummed, “where?”

“Oi!” The brunette giggled, swatting her wandering hand away as he sat up, shifting to be beside her. “Wicked woman, you are. Get to work.”

She huffed, although there was no anger residing in her. Maybe an ache between her thighs, but that’s something she could sort out with her husband later. She sat up, sitting cross legged beside Harry as he reached for the instruction manual.

The two of them sat side by side on the nursery floor, her hand resting over his as they sorted through the crib parts. Harry studied the instructions once more, pointing out the next few steps with a renewed confidence that was helped by her steady presence beside him. YN held the pieces steady while Harry carefully tightened each screw, the two of them working together, their laughter filling the room whenever something went slightly wrong.

Finally, after some teamwork, a bit of trial and error, and more than a few shared smiles, they placed the last piece into place, and the crib stood finished in front of them. They both sat back, admiring their handiwork, their hands intertwined as they took in the sight of the nursery coming together, piece by piece.

Harry looked over at YN, his gaze soft as he took in her face, still flushed from laughter. “Not bad for a couple of first-timers, huh?”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, holding her hands out in front of them and wiggling her fingers. “Thanks to these.”

He snorted, gently taking her chin in his grasp to force her to look at him. “Shut up and kiss me.”

As time passed by quicker than ever, spring took the city by full force, it was finally May. Flowers bloomed in their garden, trees shook with the delicate breeze of a looming summer. The sun fell behind the hills later and later, still offering a golden glow as they ate dinner.

A gentle rain drummed against the windows as YN and Harry shared a cozy dinner on the sofa, the warm light of a movie and fading sunlight flickering across their faces. They were nestled together, plates balanced on laps (and bump) as they laughed at an old comedy. Outside, the world felt comfortably distant. Everything about this moment felt ordinary, like the calm before a long-anticipated storm.

But YN hadn’t been entirely honest with Harry tonight. She had felt a dull ache creeping into her lower back and belly since late afternoon, a sensation she had brushed off as yet another round of Braxton Hicks contractions. Her OB had warned her that false alarms would be common in these final weeks, and she’d already had a few where they’d rushed to the hospital only to be sent back home. So tonight, she’d told herself that it was nothing—just her body practicing, nothing more. But as they watched the movie, she found herself shifting uncomfortably, her breaths deepening whenever another wave rolled through her.

The contractions had grown stronger as they ate, each one hitting her lower back with a dull, throbbing ache before tightening sharply across her belly. She bit her lip, forcing a smile whenever Harry glanced her way, trying to play it off. But she couldn’t ignore the way her body tensed or the cold bead of sweat she felt on her brow as she worked to stay composed.

As they finished their dinner, Harry stretched and stood, gathering their plates with a grin. “Think I’ll wash these up. You just sit there and relax, yeah?”

She smiled, nodding as he carried their dishes into the kitchen. He hummed softly to himself as he washed the plates, oblivious to the intensity of the pain building within her. She took a deep breath, gripping the edge of the sofa as a new wave hit, this one sharper than before, radiating from her lower back and spreading between her hips, each pulse making her muscles contract and tighten. She fought to keep her breathing steady, her mind racing as she tried to convince herself it was nothing.

But then, as she watched Harry rinse a glass, her vision blurred with another wave of pain—deeper, sharper, as if her body was tightening from the inside out. Her breath hitched, and this time she couldn’t hide the small gasp that escaped her. She braced herself against the sofa, her fingers digging into the fabric as she fought to breathe through it.

Harry looked over, his brow furrowing as he noticed the tension on her face. He set the glass down in the sink, wiping his hands on a towel as he stepped back into the living room. “Love?” he asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. “You alright?”

She forced a smile, trying to play it off, but her voice came out strained. “I’m fine. Just–“ She grunted, “Braxton Hicks, I think.” But even as she spoke, it was like an aftershock of an earthquake, stealing her breath, the pain sharper than before. Her hand flew to her belly, fingers pressing down instinctively, and she had to close her eyes, focusing all her energy on breathing through it.

Harry’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he knelt beside her, his hand moving to rest on her knee. “That doesn’t look like Braxton Hicks,” he said gently, his voice laced with concern. “How long’s this been going on?”

She hesitated, looking down as she tried to keep her breathing composed. “Since– since earlier this afternoon,” she admitted, wincing as the pain reached its peak, leaving her feeling helpless and raw. “I thought it was nothing, really. But it’s–I dunno– it’s getting worse.”

Harry’s face shifted from concern to something closer to alarm. He was quiet for a moment, clearly trying to process her words, before his gaze softened, and he slid his hand to hers, squeezing it gently. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice steadying. “We’re not going to take any chances.”

YN nodded, relief flooding her at the calm resolve in his voice, but as she tried to stand, another contraction gripped her—this time harder than any before. It started as a dull ache that quickly sharpened into an almost searing pressure, as though her whole belly was clenching in waves she couldn’t control. She gasped, her knees buckling slightly as she clutched Harry’s arm.

Harry’s eyes widened as he caught her, his face shifting into a worried frown. “It’s happening, isn’t it?” he whispered, almost to himself, before shaking off the shock and focusing on her. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her back down to the sofa with a gentle firmness. “We’re going t’breathe through this one, yeah? Just like we practiced.”

She clung to his hand, squeezing hard as she fought to steady her breathing, but the pain was relentless, each wave feeling sharper than the last. Her body felt like it was working against her, every muscle tightening until she was gasping, unable to fully catch her breath. She buried her face against his shoulder, her voice a shaky whisper. “H, this hurts more than I thought it would.”

He brushed a hand through her hair, his voice soft but unwavering as he held her close. “I know, baby. You’re doing so well. Just focus on breathing, alright? I’ve got you.”

As the contraction faded, she managed to catch her breath, slumping slightly against him, feeling a mix of exhaustion and dread for what was coming next. She felt his hand at the small of her back, steadying her, and she was grateful for the warmth of his touch, the calm he radiated even as she could see the worry flickering in his eyes.

“We’re calling the OB,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “This doesn’t feel like false labor, does it?”

She shook her head, unable to deny the reality that had settled in. “No..I think this is real.”

Harry’s face softened, a mix of pride and worry as he watched her breathe through everything. When the pain passed, he took her face in his hands, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice steady. “We’re going to get you through this, love. One breath at a time.”

With that, he stood, reaching for his phone and dialing their OB, staying right by her side as the call connected. He answered each of the doctor’s questions carefully, glancing at YN between each answer, his hand never leaving hers. After a few minutes, he hung up and turned back to her, a mixture of excitement and resolve in his gaze.

“She says it sounds like early labor,” he told her softly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “We’re going t’the hospital. Just you and me, hm?”

YN nodded, taking a steadying breath as she leaned into him, his strength anchoring her. With Harry’s arms wrapped around her, she knew that she had everything she needed to get through this.

The rain had softened to a gentle drizzle as Harry helped YN into the car, settling her carefully into the passenger seat, his hands gentle but steady. Her breaths were deep and focused, each one an effort to keep herself calm as the contractions continued, not close enough to urge a rush but strong enough to leave her nerves buzzing with anticipation. Harry buckled her in, his gaze warm and reassuring as he brushed his hand over her shoulder.

“You’re doing great, sweet girl,” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Next stop, hospital. Just you, me, and our little Atlas.”

YN managed a faint smile, squeezing his hand as he lingered beside her for a moment before closing the door and sliding into the driver’s seat. The car pulled away from their quiet street, its headlights cutting through the misty drizzle, as they made their way into the city. She leaned her head back against the seat, focusing on the rhythm of the rain tapping against the windows, letting the steady sound settle her mind.

As they drove, Harry glanced over at her frequently, his hand occasionally drifting from the wheel to hold hers. “Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Or if I need to pull over. Anything at all.”

He rambled when he was nervous.

YN nodded, keeping her eyes closed, breathing slowly. Another contraction started, gripping her with that same deep ache that radiated from her back to her belly. She clenched his hand, squeezing as she focused on her breathing, her fingers white-knuckling against his. It was painful, but she willed herself to relax, to breathe through the intensity, letting her breath match the gentle rhythm of the rain.

Harry squeezed her hand back, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin. “Out of all women in the world who gave birth, you’re the most beautiful.” He smiled warily. His stupid compliment even made him want to smack himself upside the head. But he looked at his wife expectantly.

When the contraction passed, she released a shaky breath. Part of her wanted to shoot daggers into him with a glare, but looking at that goofy smile she fell in love with, the way his cheeks flushed pink and eyes looked unsure, she couldn’t. She mustered out a weak, breathy laugh.”Shut up.” She whispered.

They reached the hospital, and Harry pulled up to the lot, parking the car before rushing around to help her out. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her through the automatic doors, his gaze steady and protective as he led her to the reception desk. The lobby was quiet, lit by soft fluorescent lights that made the polished floors gleam. Harry gently rubbed her back as they reached the counter, where a man with glasses and a walkie looked up with a polite smile.

“Hi,” Harry said, his voice calm but firm, “we’re here for an admission. Our OB requested it.” He grinned lightly, seeking to be polite despite his nerves. He gave his wife’s name through his smile.

The receptionist nodded, typing something into the computer before glancing back at YN, who was gripping Harry’s hand, her face pale and tense. After a moment, the man looked up. “Alright, we have you here. Just a moment.”

He picked up the phone, speaking briefly with someone before hanging up and nodding toward them. “Patient transport is on the way. We’ll get you into a wheelchair and up to the maternity ward to get settled.”

Harry thanked him, his hand resting on the small of her back, he murmured, “y’doing so well, my sweet girl.”

She leaned into him, exhaling a shaky breath as another mild contraction started to creep in, but before she could fully brace herself, a transport worker arrived with a wheelchair.

Harry helped her ease down into it, kneeling beside her and brushing his thumb over her hand. She looked down at him, her expression a mix of pain and determination. “I’m alright,” she whispered, her words braver than she felt.

He met her gaze, his eyes full of pride and unwavering support. “I know you are,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before he stood and walked beside her as they made their way to the elevator. The ride up was quiet, each floor lighting up in sequence as they ascended to the maternity ward, and she found herself counting each breath, each second, each floor, until they finally reached the unit.

Once inside the labor and delivery ward, they were greeted by a nurse who led them into a dimly lit room that felt strangely peaceful, its walls painted a soft pink, the lights warm and low. The nurse introduced herself, her voice calm and soothing as she helped YN settle onto the bed, helping her into a hospital gown before taking her vital signs and asking a series of questions, jotting down notes while Harry sat by her side, holding her hand.

“Let’s get you as comfortable as we can,” the nurse said gently, adjusting the bed’s settings. “Now, you’re still in early labor, so we’re going to monitor you closely, but it could be a while yet.”

YN nodded, feeling both grateful and anxious at the prospect of waiting. The contractions continued, rolling in like waves, growing in intensity but not yet regular enough to signal active labor. Each one required her full focus; she found herself closing her eyes, breathing deeply as she squeezed Harry’s hand, centering herself with each wave of pain.

Hours passed, the pain deepening with each contraction as her body adjusted, stretching and preparing for the arrival of their son. The nurse checked in periodically, taking notes, adjusting her position, and checking her dilation with gentle reassurance, but progress was slow. The contractions were more frequent now, each one a sharp, relentless pressure that seemed to radiate from deep within her, pulling her to the very edge of her endurance.

Harry never left her side, his hand a steady anchor as he held hers, his voice low and soothing, guiding her through each breath. “I love you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers as they breathed together. “Just a bit longer, yeah? You got it.”

At one point, the pain became so overwhelming that she couldn’t bear to sit still. Harry helped her stand, wrapping his arms around her as she leaned into him, her face pressed against his chest. Her arms draped over his shoulders, clinging to him as she rocked back and forth, swaying through each contraction, finding relief in the gentle rhythm. He whispered words of encouragement, his hands rubbing her back as she trembled against him, each wave of pain stealing her breath and leaving her gasping.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his voice a steady hum that she latched onto, focusing on the warmth of his words as the pain pulsed through her. “Just lean on me. I’ve got you.”

She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as the pain reached a peak, her knees weakening under the weight of it. But Harry held her up, his arms strong and steady, supporting her fully as she swayed, letting the movement carry her through each contraction. She pressed her forehead into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek, grounding her, keeping her anchored in the storm of pain.

When the nurse checked again, the news was disheartening—only a few more centimeters dilated. YN felt exhaustion beginning to creep in, the hours of labor sapping her strength, but Harry was there, brushing damp strands of hair from her face, whispering soft reassurances as she closed her eyes, her head resting against his shoulder.

As the hours ticked by, the contractions grew sharper, more intense, each one like a wave crashing against her, forcing her to draw deeper into herself just to withstand the pain. Harry eased her back onto the bed, pulling a mask toward her face, releasing a gas that would help the pain. Her mind blurred under the relentless rhythm of labor. Yet, every time she opened her eyes, he was there—his gaze steady, his hand in hers, his words like an anchor.

She held the mask to her face with her other hand, breathing it in deeply. As backward as it sounded, even laboring and pushing out a baby, the thought of a seven inch needle being put into her spine scared her even more. The thought of an epidural was tempting, being numbed from the waist down—but it made her stomach churn with anxiety, too. She had enough of that already, so she stuck to the gas.

YN lifted the gas from her nose, staring at Harry through half lidded eyes. “Can’t wait to have sex with you in six weeks.” She mumbled, her voice hazy.

Harry eased the mask back onto her, his cheeks growing red from her clouded words. He let out a breathy laugh, “Okay, one step at a time, hm?”

At last, as dawn began to break outside, the sunlight bleak, barely there. The nurse’s expression shifted as she checked YN’s progress. She smiled, looking up with gentle relief. “We’re almost there,” she said softly. “Just a little bit longer.”

Harry’s face lit up, his eyes shining as he looked down at YN, his voice soft and full of pride. He pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead, brushing strands of her hair back. “Hear that? Final stretch, baby.”

YN nodded, too exhausted to respond, but the warmth in his eyes gave her the strength to keep going. With every ounce of willpower she had left, she faced the final contractions, the pain almost blinding but her determination carrying her through, and Harry’s voice guiding her every step of the way.

Once she was ten centimeters, a team rushed in. Two nurses and the OB. Her legs were placed into stirrups, her gown bunched up over her tummy.

It was the longest, most intense thirteen hours of her life, but as she felt the final waves of pain, the medical staff guided her through the last moments, she clung to Harry, his hand a lifeline, his presence a comfort that wrapped around her like a shield. And with one last surge, a cry filled the room, and she knew it was all worth it.

“Oh.” She whimpered, her own cry emitting from her as her son was placed onto her bare chest for the first time. A nurse wiped him down as he wriggled against YN, Harry leaning down by her shoulder, staring in awe.

That was his boy, his son. A piece of him and the love of his life brought forth into the world. He wouldn’t be able to explain the feeling he felt as he flickered his gaze between his wife’s and Atlas’s.

Sparse stands of brown locks sat atop his head, a color matching his fathers. He gently placed his hand atop it, his thumb rubbing against his forehead as the little boy continued to cry.

His eyes resembled his mothers, as did his nose. But everything else? That was all Harry. He cooed at him, whispering soft nothings to to his baby boy before the nurse approached him with medical scissors. “Would you like to cut the cord, dad?”

Dad.

Butterflies surged through his tummy.

He drew a deep breath, looking at YN for silent encouragement, to which she only smiled at him. Her husband, the father of her son.

He gently grabbed the scissors from the nurse, hesitantly approaching where he was told to cut. He looked at his Atlas who seemed to calm down a bit, slowly coming to terms with being brought out into the world. He steadied himself, and then with a delicate snip, he cut the cord.

As he handed them back to the nurse, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the enormity of the moment settling over him. He looked down at the two he loved most in the world, lightly grasping onto his little feet and silently counting his tiny toes.

“Sit.” YN softly ordered, holding the boy against her chest with one hand and patting the small spot beside her with the other.

He nodded slowly, easing himself down into the spot after lowering the right side bar so he’d fit. He leaned against YN, his feet still upon the floor.

The baby was swaddled into a pale blue blanket before she handed him over to Harry, his heart melting instantly. He cradled him against his chest, tucking his head down to place delicate kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. “I love you so much.” He whispered, hesitantly ripping his gaze away from his son onto his wife.

His lip quivered as he placed a kiss against her sweaty hair, “Thank you so much.” His voice was delicate, a murmur. “I owe you everything.”

This was all he needed. His heart swelled with a love so profound, it felt almost overwhelming, as if the sheer depth of it might consume him. It was a love that stretched beyond anything he’d known, powerful enough to break him apart and put him back together all at once. But he embraced it, letting it fill every part of him, savoring each precious drop. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt exactly where he was meant to be.

This was home.

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

i need to see selfish coffee btw 2.0

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Am I not that important?

You and Dele had been in an on and off relationship for at least three years. Every time you were off you noticed Dele always had one specific girl he would "rebound" with.

You found out about her a couple months ago, and you didn't let it bother you since you guys are technically not together when he "rebounds" with her. But the weird thing is he still texts with her while you guys are together.

Dele, you and your group of mutual friends went out because it had been a while since you guys went out. You and the girls were talking about how you guys wanted to get drunk like the good ole days. You were several tequila and Red Bulls in, so you were vibing with the music. You and the girls were on the dance floor because they had started playing Kiss Me Thru The Phone by Soulja Boy, but you were wanting to be with Dele but the guys were still in the vip area sitting on the sofa just vibing. You looked over to the group and Dele is looking down at his phone.

This immediately made you mad because he's probably texting that bitch again. So you went to the bar to get another drink to ignore the fact that it might be a possibility.

Dele looked up from the phone to see you ordering another drink, so he made a beeline to you...he stood behind you with his arms around your waist. You wanted to enjoy the moment but you being drunk and mad you pushed his hands off of you, walked away when the bartender gave you your drink. Dele followed you to where your friends were, and was trying to dance with you but you got frustrated and went back to the VIP area to sit.

Of course Dele followed you back, and you just frustratingly tell him to leave you alone. Dele is annoyed, and whispers into your ear "Babe what the hell? What did I do to you? I'm here trying to have fun with you but you keep brushing me off and I am starting to get annoyed". You got up to walk away but Dele grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the bathroom.

Dele locked the door to the bathroom, "tell me what the fuck the problem is, because all I have done has been trying to be with you". You basically inhaled the rest of your drink before you start speaking, "well Dele I know you keep texting that bitch Lucy while we're in a relationship but I thought she was only a bitch you rebound with. Like I was dancing with the girls and when I try to look for you, I see you looking at your phone instead of having fun! If you're going to fucking go out to be on your phone the majority of the time what the hell is the point of going out if you're not going to have fun with your freaking friends!" Dele rolled his eyes, you grabbed his face, "I swear if you roll your eyes at me and tell me I'm crazy, I swear I will walk out of here" Dele slapped your hand away from his face.

Dele was frustrated at this point "you're too drunk let's go home, we better not cause a scene cause I don't want the paps to have something to write about". You started fuming at this point, "oh so you care more about what the public thinks than what I think, you're so fucking selfish because last time I checked you were in a relationship with me and having issues with me and not the stupid paps or fans. Like I am confused about how me being drunk has anything to do with this, I came out to have fun and not see my boyfriend text his side piece while dating me and telling me that he loves me." Dele tries to walk out the door, but you stopped him "y/n literally let me out of the bathroom because I don't want to argue" "really Dele you don't want to argue, well admit that you're not fully committed to this relationship and that you keep texting that bitch Lucy" If looks could kill you would be dead with the stare Dele was giving you, "I don't know why I have to admit to something I am not even fucking doing y/n!" Your eyes start tearing up, and you start walking out the bathroom.

You did a beeline to the bartender for another drink, this time halfway there Dele stood in front of you "babe it's time to go home, you don't need more to drink. Let's get you home" you push past him and go to the bar flagging the bartender down and ordering a double tequila. Dele rolled his eyes and went to sit down with the boys, after you take your shot you go back to the vip area.

You grab your purse, phone and keys to go back home as you're walking out of the area you feel Dele put his arm around your waist to try and help you to the car. You push his hand off "I'm going to take a cab home, and I'll be sleeping in the guest room", Dele at this point is annoyed "no I came here with you so I am leaving with you and you do whatever you want when we get home but in the morning we are talking" you're drunk self starts pouting and start speed walking to the entrance, while forgetting that Dele was sober so he easily caught up to you.

Dele told the valet to bring the car before you could flag a cab down, he's holding your hand with a firm grip and in the other one he's texting the guys a goodbye since he didn't get to properly do so since he was chasing you down. The car came around and Dele went to the passenger door to open it, but you got into the backseat and you laid down trying to take a nap.

On the drive home Dele is asking if you want to hear a specific song, you request Sobrio by Maluma. It's your favorite song about a breakup, as you're feeling this song you say without hesitating "Am I not that important to you? Like if you love me why do you still talk to her. Because I feel disrespected with the fact that you still talk to her, like if I were to have a rebound that I still talked to, you would flip out and be acting worse than me." Dele sighs frustratingly, "y/n can we drop this, I texted her asking her about something that she went through just to check up on her and I haven't spoken to her since...that was like a month ago" you're looking at Dele's figure, and you feel a tear slip down "but still why do you care about what she's doing or what she's going through if she's not your girlfriend or the 'love of your life' like if she's a side piece it shouldn't matter to you because she shouldn't be that important". You guys get to a red light, and Dele looks at you and looks worried because of the tears in your eyes.

He reaches out to grab your hand to caress it and you reluctantly let him grab it, and you close your eyes to try to soak in the moment before your drunk ass ruins the mood again. The minute the car pulls into the driveway you get out of the car immediately a beeline to the bathroom to throw up from all the liquor, Dele follows behind you to hold your hair and rub your back. As you finish you sit next to him and put your head on his shoulder "God I need to not drink that much ever again, so next time to piss me off Dels" Dele starts to chuckle a little awkwardly "can we move past this like babe I blocked her number and won't talk to her again because I now understand how much it bothers you". You get up to brush your teeth and wash the make up off, when you're done you go to the closet to change into Dele's shirt and then you get into bed.

Dele tries to cuddle and you look up at him then grab his face and kiss him while caressing his neck. You then put your head on his chest, and you close your eyes "I'm sorry for accusing you of not loving me or caring about me babe" you whispered. Dele kissed your forehead and turned the lights off "it's fine we all have a drunk moment, and Im sorry for not understanding you...also for thinking it was ok to talk to her without telling you or thinking about how you'd feel". You both went to sleep at peace knowing that you guys weren't mad at each other anymore.

I hope you guys like it :)

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

I need someone different.

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

booben dias x

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

It’s my baby daddy’s birthday today! Happy 25th birthday to this guy! I hope you have a great day (even though I know he’s not going to read it)

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

CHRISTIAN PULISIC - AC Milan vs Torino FC - Stadio Giuseppe Meazz, Milan - August 26, 2023

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

Hey Guys! So my inbox is opened...I was planning on writing for the next day or two! I recently got into a car accident so I have written some pieces since yesterday that I will finish writing and posting them! If you want to request any pieces send them to my inbox! And don't forget that if you want to request a specific player you can do so on my google form!

I am excited for you guys to read the pieces I'll be posting later :)

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

Can you do a Christian imagine where his BEREAL goes off during sex his teammates and friends react?

Recently you were being a little annoyed with Christian because he would constantly be on his phone and would post a BeReal every time he would get a notification from the app.

So on this particular night you guys had just came back from going out with the guys and their partners. You in particular get horny when drinking comes into play, and Christian was hornier than you were.

Christian had gotten a notification from BeReal saying it was time for his daily post. Chris had forgotten he had left his BeReal App opened and the phone positioned at an angle without noticing.

All you were trying to do was to get it on with your man. At least five minutes in the deed you see like a flash go off and you didn't mind at all because you both were having the time of your life.

The next thing you know is that Christian is getting a call from Mason, and of course he ignores it. It wasn't until several of his other teammates were calling him that you guys started getting suspicious that something had to be wrong.

Chris answers one of the many calls and it was from Fikayo. Chris is trying to keep his cool, "Hey Fikayo, whats up?" You can hear Fikayo on the other side of the line laughing. "Nothing man its just woah you're BeReal seems to be a little explicit today, don't you think?" Chris asking very innocently "What do you mean explicit? I haven't posted a BeReal--" Christ couldn't finish his sentence before you cut him off.

"Christian Mate Pulisic you hang that phone call up right now before you make more of a fool of us". Acting confused he hung up the phone call, "Can you tell me what is going on Y/N?" You start biting your nails, "Well you see I think you did post a BeReal because while we were doing it I saw a flash go off" You bury your head as you're saying the last part of your sentence.

Christian started blushing, went on the app and realized one of the BeReal pictures was of you guys butt naked, and of course without hesitation Christian deleted it.

Then went to practice the next day like nothing happened. Told the teammates to never speak of it again because it was an accident!

Hey Betsy! I'm sorry this took a while for me to post! I have been bad with keeping up! But I hope you enjoy this piece!

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

Wedding Night (Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader)

WC: 1.3K

Warnings: cursing

A/N: don't be fooled by the title cuz it has no smut 🤭 this is pure fluff! and again this was not proofread lol. hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

-

You and Christian just tied the knot, and now the celebration has come to end. The clock showed 12 AM, which means it was time for the bride and groom to leave the dance floor and move to the bridal suite.

As you two left the venue, everyone kept saying “have fun” as they assumed you were about to do the “wedding night” tradition – but tonight, it was not the case.

You had been awake since 4 AM and occupied since – getting your makeup and hair done, putting your wedding dress on then changing it to another dress for the reception and afterparty, doing photo sessions, you name it – so at the end of the biggest and best day of your life, you couldn’t help but feel exhausted. You were at your happiest, of course, but you still needed rest. Christian understood this, therefore he was more than okay to go straight to bed and sleep.

“Baby, it doesn’t have to be tonight… Because we don’t have to celebrate our first night as a married couple with sex. If you’re tired, then we can just go to sleep.”

You were in awe of how understanding your husband is. That’s one of the billion reasons why you were one hundred percent sure you wanted to marry him. 

“Plus… You know you can do me whenever you want to, right?” He winked and gave you a cheeky smile.

—

When the elevator doors opened, he lifted you up and carried you "bridal style" to your room. You laughed the entire time and he was laughing along with you – too hard he almost dropped you a few times. You opened the door and as you both entered your room – still carried by Christian – your head accidentally hit the door jamb.

“Ouch!” You slightly yelled as you immediately touched your head.

“Oh fuck, baby, I’m sorry!” He apologized and kissed your head.

He then asked in genuine concern. “Does that really hurt?”

“I’m okay love, it was just a reflex.” You assured him.

Relieved, he closed the door with his foot and playfully tossed you into the bed. He then jumped into the bed and laid down next to you, still laughing with each other. Not long after, his lips found their way into yours. Your eyes were closed, feeling his soft lips gently moving against yours and it got you nearly breathless – it was filled with passion and affection. When your lips parted, you saw him looking deeply into your eyes with a smile on his face – admiring how beautiful his forever bride is. Him staring so deep made you blushing and all giddy, you had to ask him to stop.

“Honey… Stop it!” You blurted as you playfully pushed his face away.

“What, am I not allowed to adore my wife now?” He teased you.

When he said that, you had literal chills. At the moment, the fact that you both are married still felt surreal. Oh my God… I’m Christian’s wife!

“Wait, baby, say that again!” You excitedly tried to make him say “my wife” again.

“What, am I not-”

“Not the whole thing, dummy.” You jokingly cut him off. “I meant the last part.”

“Umm… ‘Now’?” He pretended to be clueless just to mess with you.

“Good lord.” You rolled your eyes.

He laughed then gave you a little peck on the lips.

“I love you, my wife.”

—

You were still in your wedding dress and lazily got off the bed to change. Not only that, the makeup on your face felt pretty heavy and you thought there were too many bobby pins on your head – you just couldn’t wait to take them off. 

He helped you take off your wedding dress then get you your comfy pajamas. He also grabbed the makeup remover and a pack of facial cottons from your bag and put them above the counter in the bathroom like you asked him to. You were whining about having to remove your makeup and take off millions of bobby pins of your hair when all you wanted was just to finally rest.

He heard you from the other room and thought it was really cute. He couldn’t stop laughing at your whining while he changed his clothes. He then tried to make fun of you.

“Oh, is my poor baby having a rough moment now? There’s people that are dying, Y/N.” He said sarcastically.

You laughed at his comment, you got the reference he used.

“Hey, how dare you! Don’t be such a Kourtney!” You playfully shouted in response.

—

Now also in his pajamas, Christian went to the bathroom to help you. When he came in, you were just done cleaning your face and about to move onto your hair. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, kissed your cheeks, and rested his chin on one of your shoulders.

“Wow, how lucky am I that I get to spend my life with the most beautiful person on earth?” He softly said into your ears.

“Oh, stop it…” You blushed.

Since the first time you two know each other, he loves to shower you with compliments. You thought it would only last at the beginning, but overtime you learned that it is one of his most prominent ways of showing his love. No one has ever complimented you the way Christian does, therefore at first you came off a little awkward as you didn’t really know how to handle compliments. But now you've gotten used to it and he has never failed to make you blush every time.

He then offered to help you remove the bobby pins off your hair, and since there were a lot of them, you happily accepted his help. He thought you were exaggerating about how many bobby pins on your hair, but when he saw them closely he was genuinely surprised.

“Holy shit! This is a lot! How could you feel comfortable having these on your head all day? Geez, I could never!” He shook his head.

“Who said I was comfortable?” You chuckled.

He carefully removed the pins one by one. A few times you flinched and when he saw that, he stopped for a bit to make sure you were okay.

“Oops, sorry, did I hurt you Y/N?”

“That’s okay baby, it was just a little pull.” You assured him.

After a while, you both finally took all the pins off your hair, and you sighed in relief. But even though you had removed those, your hair still felt kind of stiff because of the hairspray used. Afterwards, you decided to take a long shower.

—

When you came out of the bathroom, you saw Christian just finished making the bed. Your heart completely melted by his gesture. You knew it was a bare minimum but you always appreciate everything he does for you no matter how little or huge it is – and vice versa.

You came up to him and gave him a passionate kiss. After you broke the kiss, he was stunned for a second and bit his lip.

“Hey… what was that for?” He asked.

“To thank you for helping me clean up. And make the bed. And because I'm truly grateful I married the most wonderful man in the world.” You said before you leaned in for another kiss.

“And I you.” He said softly with a big smile on his face.

As you gazed into each other’s eyes, a yawn spontaneously left your mouth. Your eyes started to feel very heavy and you didn’t think you could hold them open for too long. He noticed how sleepy you were, therefore he put you to bed.

“Too bad I can’t even stay up to open the gifts, huh?” You murmured.

“Don’t worry baby, first thing in the morning.” He replied.

You and Christian were spooning under the cover. Before he slept. he gently kissed your shoulder, your cheek, your ear and the top of your head. You couldn’t help but giggled, and he followed. Then he whispered into your ear.

“Goodnight, my wife.”

“Goodnight, my husband.”

That night, both of you went to sleep beaming as the new Mr. and Mrs. Pulisic.

-

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

Goodbye, Summer (Christian Pulisic x Reader)

Song Inspo: Summer Love - One Direction (listening to the song while reading is highly recommended!)

WC: 2.7K

Warnings: cursing, angst

A/N: after a few months i finally finished this fic!!! this is my first christian angst it felt kinda strange to write one for him lol and just so y'all know i haven't been able to write angst with a happy ending so, be aware. and the start of the ‘summer love’ is a lot different than usual hopefully not too weird for your liking tho. also this wasn't proofread, sorry if this turns out to be shit. anw hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any grammatical errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

–

“Cause you were mine for the summer

Now we know it's nearly over

Feels like snow in September

But I always will remember”

—

Summer has come to an end. Well, technically summer hasn’t ended yet – but Christian had to move to Italy and this move wasn’t exactly planned but quite expected – so yeah, to me, summer is about to end. And the moment Christian hops on the plane, there goes my summer of love. It was fun while it lasted – though I wish it would never end.

Christian told me he was leaving just a few days prior. He had been back to the States two days after the end of the Premier League season and ever since we had been spending the summer together. I knew this was coming as we agreed we would only be together for the summer but I didn’t think it would be this hard.

—

I met him through a mutual friend last year when he was briefly in Florida to visit his family and friends for Christmas. I still had a boyfriend at the time – even though my relationship ended the very next day, it was already broken to begin with – so we became strictly friends and I had no intentions on dating him. Jokes on me, because I had caught feelings for him but I was so wounded by the heartbreak I wasn’t even aware of it. He did catch feelings too, though he thought I needed time to process the breakup so confessing his feelings wouldn’t be appropriate.

I didn’t want a serious relationship for a while – or so I thought – therefore I didn’t even think of dating since my last one. Christian and I would sometimes text each other, but it wasn’t a constant thing. We hadn’t really seen each other in person since because of the distance, but I watched every match he played and usually texted him to give my support before the match.

One night within the second week of May, he told me by text that he was going back to Florida for summer break and looking forward to spending the rest of the summer with me. I thought to myself: why would he spend his short break with me? I responded to him by asking why just me and not his friends and family, hoping he would say something funny and odd like he always does and instead he said something I didn’t see coming.

“Because I like you and I want to be with you.”

My heart stopped the second I saw that text. Christian… Likes me? My goodness, what an oblivious idiot I had been. I was deeply wounded by my past I didn’t see what was going on in front of me the whole time. I didn’t know what else to say and I accidentally left his text on read that night.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“I’ve freaked you out haven’t I? Fuck I’m sorry!!!” 

Oh shit. I woke up to those unread messages from Christian – I just remembered I hadn’t texted him back last night. I immediately tried to reply but as my thumbs touched the screen to type, no words came to mind. I honestly didn’t know how to react, if I tell him I’m not looking for a relationship would it hurt him?

“I…”

“Christian…”

“If you want a relationship, I don’t know if I’m the right person for you…”

I locked my phone screen right after I sent those messages. I hoped I wasn’t being too harsh to him, but being put in this position was so overwhelming and I didn’t know what else to say. I just… I wasn’t ready. And I couldn’t tell when I would be. Not to mention he lives thousands of miles away from me and I didn’t think I could handle the distance.

An hour later, I finally heard back from Christian.

“I get it and I respect that.”

“What if we just… Be together for the summer?”

“We don’t have to think about what’s gonna happen after. Just be in the moment… You and me.”

I gave that idea of his a thought – a not-so-long thought because I was assuming I didn’t have enough time. I’d admit, while I found it interesting, I couldn’t help but wonder: would it be worth it? Would someone get hurt at the end?

Before the day ended, I finally made up my mind.

“Okay. I’m in…”

“But just for the summer.”

“And only if nobody is gonna get hurt.”

—

When he arrived, I was the one who picked him up at the airport. We absolutely spent our summer together everyday – there wasn’t a day that went by without him by my side and vice versa. He invited me to spend some time with his family and friends on their boats, and I had him spending time with mine on either the beach or my family’s home.

We were well aware we only had each other for the summer, thus we made sure every moment counts no matter how little or big it might be. We knew once this summer ends it also marks the end of our time together and go back to live our own separate lives. I didn’t want to think about what will happen next – I just want to live in the moment.

The more I spend my time with him, the stronger my feelings grow. It’s been messing up my mind, but I couldn’t let it ruin my summer. This was the best summer I’ve ever had in a long time, and I would not take it for granted. The memories we were creating throughout will forever live on in my head.

—

In the middle of our “summer of love”, Christian came to an agreement with AC Milan, and by that his time in Chelsea had come to an end and he had to relocate to Italy. And the club wanted him to join them for preseason, meaning his summer break had to be cut off sooner than he planned.

When he broke the news, I was stunned – not that I wasn’t happy about his move to Milan, I just needed time to process it. I also wasn’t ready for our summer to be over, but the circumstances forced us to cut our time short. It was pretty saddening for us that we unfortunately had to burst our little bubble.

“So… That’s it for us then?” I carefully asked.

“Let’s just not talk about it.” He refused.

I didn’t want to cause a fight at the time, so I agreed to let it go.

The entire time, I felt like I had to walk on eggshells around him. But eventually I couldn’t do that forever. You can't escape the reality no matter how much you want to.

—

Christian was packing his bags as he had a flight to catch the next morning. Yes, I couldn’t emphasize enough that we know our whatever-you-called-ship is coming to an end. In every hello there is a goodbye, right? But why does this feel so hard?

We have tried really hard not to mention anything about the fact that our summer love will be over soon but it is an inevitable topic. There is no way we can escape the conversation, especially on our very last day together. And I have to be the one to bring this up because Christian clearly didn’t want to – he might be the one who suggested the idea, but he is the one who is more in denial.

“Chris, you know we both have to say something, don’t you?” I tried to start the conversation.

“Can we not? Please.” He whimpered.

“We have to.” I insisted.

He kept packing in silence, not wanting to talk about the painful reality. I was sitting on the corner of his bed while he was standing across from me, avoiding eye contact since I started talking. He was looking down all the time – organizing his belongings – and not once he took even a little glance at me. I looked closely at his face, paying attention to every little detail I could. His face was red, eyes were puffy and watery, lips were tight – it was obvious to me he was trying so hard not to cry.

“So are you just going to freeze me out the entire time or?” Still no answer from him. 

I went and sat a lot closer to him and he tried to look away.

“Stop it, please! At least just look at my fucking eyes if you don’t want to fucking speak!”

And suddenly I saw tears running down on his face. He couldn’t hold them back anymore – his heart was completely shattered and it was obvious he was nowhere near ready to face the harsh reality.

“Chris… Listen…”

“Why can’t you change your mind?”

He asked a question that got me startled.

“What is it about me and the time that we had that made you certain you still don’t want a relationship?” His voice was trembling.

It took me a while to even say one fucking word to him. I felt like the worst person on earth for breaking the sweetest man’s heart. And to be honest, I broke my own heart too – and I was really trying my hardest to conceal it from him.

“Chris, you were the one who said, and I quote, “just be together for the summer”! I was being so clear I didn’t want a relationship yet you still offered me that. There’s nothing wrong with you, it’s just… I’m not ready. And I don’t know when I will be again.” I desperately tried to explain myself to him but I seemed to upset him even more.

“Yeah, right.” He shook his head and smacked his lips. “Whatever you say.”

I sighed.

“Chris… Please, why won’t you believe me?” I asked him quietly.

“I don’t buy your bullshit anymore.” He replied coldly, while wiping his tears.

Now done packing, he grabbed the car keys and put most of his belongings in the trunk.

I still wanted to have more conversation – about us, specifically – but after he was done with his stuff, he refused.

“I’m tired and I have an early flight to catch tomorrow. I think I should just go to sleep right now.” He said as he walked into his room.

“Yeah, of course...” I responded.

I tried to softly grab his hand but he swung his arm further away from me.

“See you tomorrow, Chris. Goo-”

He slammed the door on my face before I got to tell him goodnight. At the moment, I thought to myself: oh no, he really hates me.

—

The next morning I drove Christian to the airport. He was going to Milan with his dad and he was meeting him at the airport. On the way there, we didn’t really talk much. There was so much silence – and somehow it made everything even more painful.

I couldn’t handle the tension any longer, so I tried to break the ice.

“Hey, thank you for spending the summer with me. It was the best I’ve ever had.”

He only nodded.

“Umm, I’m sorry this only lasted for a short while...”

He looked down, he sniffed and rubbed his nose and sighed. 

“Well, have fun in Milan! You needed a fresh start and you’re about to get one… Christian, I am proud of you.”

I tried to be supportive and not say anything that could be perceived as “something wrong” because I knew he was in a fragile state at the moment, though it seemed like he wasn’t going to respond the way I hoped he would. I was genuinely proud of him by the way – always have and always will.

He looked up but still avoiding eye contact, let out a slight smile and chuckled a little bit.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“And uh… Maybe you’d forget about me with all the girls you’re going to meet there...”

I immediately regretted what I just said. Shit. What the fuck did I just say?

He finally looked directly into my eyes – a look full of disbelief and disappointment. There was a moment of silence between us. This time, I was the one who couldn’t see him in the eyes.

“Chris, I’m so, so sorry I didn’t m-”

“How could you say that, Y/N?” He cut me off before I finished talking, by the tone of his voice I could tell he was mad at me.

I froze for a minute. I knew I had fucked up but I never thought it would be so much worse – at the moment I was really, really fucking shit up.

“Do you think my feelings for you aren't real enough so other girls can easily make it go away? Do you really think I can forget you just like that? Are you implying that what we had all summer will not stick in your memories?”

“Wha- no, Chris, that’s not what I mean!”

What a mess I had made... And before I knew it, tears started to fill my eyes.

“Well to me it sounded like that. I’m appalled to know you don’t see whatever we were as something real and meaningful. Maybe it was a mistake to even ask you to give us a chance in the first place.” He sounded like he was truly aching and filled with regrets.

I glanced at him for a bit and I saw him biting his lip and his face was already all red. I never wanted our goodbye to be this heartbreaking but well… In this situation it’s bound to happen, isn’t it? Because I didn’t want to escalate our situation any further, I decided to shut my mouth and stop talking altogether. I was aware that whatever I said might hurt him deeper. Fuck, why can’t things be easier?

—

After what felt like a very long ride, we finally got to the airport. We met Christian’s dad, Mark, at the front gate as I helped Christian with his belongings. Mark greeted me and gave me a hug.

“Hey, Y/N! Thanks for dropping Christian off, if only you could come with us to Italy!” Mark excitedly thanked me, not knowing what happened between Christian and I.

I shook my head and slightly laughed to cover my discomfort. Then I saw Christian looking at his watch, and whispered to his dad: “let’s go.”

I took it as my cue to leave, so I said my farewell to both of them.

“Well, have a safe flight, Mr. Pulisic.” I smiled and nodded at Mark. 

Then I turned to Christian. He was still visibly upset – I didn’t have the heart to say anything, really. I had caused him a lot of pain, and I was afraid to open my mouth. But at the moment I knew I had to, since I didn’t know if we would ever see each other again.

“You too, Chris. Good luck over there.” I softly tapped his arm.

I waved at them and was ready to walk away when I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I turned around and it was Christian. He pulled me in for a hug – a very, very tight hug, like he wouldn’t let me go. He rested his head on my shoulder and I rubbed his back the whole time. It was a long hug – probably the longest ever for both of us – and we could no longer keep our overflowing emotions inside anymore.

“I’m sorry…” I whimpered.

“I know.” He whispered.

He stroked my head and kissed me in the forehead. His lips stayed there for a while.

“Y/N, I have to go...”

It was the hardest thing to do but I pulled away from the hug. Before he went inside, he took my hands and looked me in the eyes.

“Y/N, you will always be my greatest summer love… I will never forget you.” He said under his breath.

And the moment he walked through the gate, that was the last time I saw him in person. What we had might be short, but I will forever be thankful Christian made my summer unforgettable.

—

“You were my summer love

You always will be my summer love”

–

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

Harry & Y/N’s baby calls Harry Harry

____

This was a request but the ask got deleted when I tried to save it to my drafts ): whoever you are here you go ): 💗 hope u like it

____

“Dada, I do it,” Isabella, Harry and Y/N’s 2 year old baby girl reached up for Harry to pick her up.

“You do it? You’re going to write my album?” Harry chuckled as he bent down in his seat to pick her up. She was sitting on his lap as he handed her his pen, “yeah,” she answered before beginning to scribble all over his journal.

“I made my babies a snack,” Y/N announces, entering the dining room with two grilled cheese sandwiches on separate plates. “One for baby Bella and one for Harry.”

“Thank you, mummy,” Harry emphasized, in order to make sure Bella repeated him.

“Tank you, mummy,” she was reaching for her sandwhich that was cut in half immediately.

“Mmm,” Harry hummed as he ate, and Bella then made the same sound, adding a little, “yummy,” at the end of hers, which made her parents laugh.

“Look mommy, I do it,” Isabella pointed at her drawing. “I writing songs.”

It was something she picked up from Harry. He was constantly writing, and whenever she asked him (“wha you doing, dada?”), he always responded with “I’m writing songs.”

So it was a phrase she knew very well.

“You’re writing songs?!” Y/N gasped. “Are you gonna be just like dada when you grow up?”

She wasn’t too good at conversations yet, and rarely ever finished them.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” Y/N laughed as Isabella scribbled without a care in the world.

“What?” Isabella asked, making Harry laugh loudly.

“I said, are you going to be like dada when you grow up?”

“I no know,” Isabella said innocently with a shrug.

“Aww, you no know?” Harry cooed. “You yes know. You will be like dada. I mean just look at how great the lyrics you’ve written are.”

“Eat,” Isabella picked up Harry’s sandwich and pushed it towards his lips.

“In other words she’s telling you to shut up,” Y/N laughed as Isabella fed Harry his sandwhich.

He was chewing and she was trying to put the sandwich in his mouth so that he could take another bite. “Hang on,” he laughed, swallowing and taking another bite.

“It’s good?” Isabella asked.

“Mhm, very good,” Harry nodded.

“Want more?” Isabella asked, raising her eyebrows as she looked up at her daddy from his lap.

“No, thank you,” he was chewing still. “I’ve got my mouth full.”

“Okay,” Isabella put his sandwhich down and began to scribble once again.

“I love you,” Harry hummed.

“I love you, dada,” she hummed.

“Hey, what about me? Do you love mommy?”

“I love mommy,” she nodded.

Harry and Y/N laughed, making eye contact with one another before they both just watched their little angel scribble things very carefully into Harry’s journal.

The next day, when Harry got home from his radio interview in the afternoon, Isabella came running to greet him, as usual. She wore a hot pink sweatshirt with grey sweatpants, and thick beige socks on her feet.

“What, did the heater stop working?” Harry chuckled when he saw her running towards him. She was about to slip before he scooped her up into his arms. He kissed her cheek, “hello, my baby. Are you alright?”

She kissed his cheek, as she knows she is supposed to. “Hi! Me and mommy make cookies, Harry. Come see!”

Harry opened his mouth to speak before his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth closed.

“Did she just,” he heard from the kitchen.

“I don’t want to believe it but I think so!” Harry called. “What did you just call me?”

“Harry,” she gave him a cheeky smile.

“That’s not my name!” He shrieked. “Since when do you call me Harry?”

She only smiled, grinning nervously, her big playful eyes staring into his.

“Mama calls you Harry.”

She hears it all the time, in her defense. Whether mama’s calling him for dinner with a loud, “Harry, dinners ready!” Or if she’s on the phone with him and asks, “hey, Harry, where are you?”

“Mama calls me Harry, not you.”

“Harryy,” she whined, wrapping her arms around his neck as she giggled, pecking his lips. “I wove you, Harry.”

That was when he attacked her cheek with kisses, making her scream and giggle. “My name isn’t Harry! My name is dada. Isabella calls me dada, not Harry.”

“Harry,” she stated.

“Noooo!” Harry screamed. “You know what? That’s it!” He tossed her over his shoulder and held her there as he walked to the kitchen while she screamed and giggled behind his back.

“Y/N!” He called loudly. “Isabella is being a bad girl and calling dada Harry. And guess who she learned it from?”

“Who?” Y/N asked, although she knew it had to have been her.

“Who’d you learn it from, Bella?” Harry called.

“Mama,” she giggled, upside down and behind Harry’s back.

“From now on, everyone in this house is to call me dada at all times! Understood, troublemakers?”

“I said understood!” He screamed, patting Bella’s bum that was on his shoulder a few times.

“Yes!” Bella giggled. “I want up!”

“You want up? What’s up?” Harry asked.

“I want up, dada,” she whined, trying to kick her legs that were in Harry’s hold.

Harry held her upright then, on his hip.

“No more do that,” she shook her head.

“No more do that?” Harry laughed. “No more throwing you over my shoulder?”

“No, dada.”

“And why not?”

“Baby no like it.”

Harry snorted, “baby no like it? Okay, I suppose I’ll stop.”

“Tank you.”

“You are very welcome, love,” Harry chuckled.

“Mama show Harry cookies.”

“Who?!” Harry screamed.

“Dada!” Isabella screamed with a giggle. “Dada. Not Harry.”

“That’s right,” Harry said sternly.

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

young mom or professor !!

It was a busy afternoon at the Styles residence. Hair and makeup teams were running around, style teams were laying out last-minute options in case he or Y/n wished to change their outfit ideas for the night, and obviously, his most important team was hard at work to get him ready.

"Stay still, Daddy!" Collette, his second daughter said, looking up at him with a pout.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll try my best," Harry said, nodding for her to continue painting his nails. He peered down at her, eyeing the careful work she was doing. "You're quite good at this, you know."

Collette didn't look up from his hand, but Harry saw her smile, one that was nearly identical to her mother's if it wasn't for the dimples in her cheeks. "Thank you."

Before he could respond, Harry's chin was being tilted up by Simone. "This should make the bags under your eyes go away," she said, placing gel masks just under his eyes.

Harry tried not to frown at the implication that he had bags under his eyes to begin with. He never thought his daughters would be so brutally honest, but they never minced their words, especially when it came to his appearance.

So instead of opening that can of worms, he asked who was helping their mum get ready.

"The twins, but I think it's more pretend," Simone said, combing his eyebrows in place with a little brush.

"I see," he mumbled. "Well, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to help me look pretty."

In truth, Simone was so excited about Harry going to the Grammys, she wanted to be a part of it in some way, shape, or form. She wouldn't be able to go, as that would stir up a media frenzy. For the first time, though, Harry had considered risking it all just so he could have a Daddy-daughter date tonight. Ultimately, he decided that it was better to keep that secret a secret, though he did have to promise to get Olivia Rodrigo's autograph and bring it home by the end of the night to make up for Simone not going. How he was going to manage that, he had no idea.

Still, it was a big night, for many reasons. Not only was Harry nominated for some of the night's biggest awards, Y/n was also joining him, marking their first public appearance. Ever.

His wife had been nervous, and rightfully so, but Harry wanted her to be there, wanted to spend this night with the people he loved, and there was no one else he loved more than Y/n. Except for his children, obviously.

So Y/n was in a different room getting her hair and makeup done, preparing for a night no one would soon forget while Harry was letting his two oldest children pamper him before he had to get dressed.

"Do you know what your mum is wearing? She refuses to tell me," Harry said. Simone seemed to be done with his face for the time being and was helping Collette paint his nails.

"We're not going to tell you, either!" Collette said.

Harry frowned playfully. "And that is why Julian is my favorite. He would've told me."

The girls giggled before continuing on. When it came time for Harry to start getting dressed in his red carpet outfit—a fun jumpsuit that passed voting from all six of his children (mostly four because Geneva and Natalia couldn't talk yet, but they seemed as excited as they could be)—Simone and Collette watched with wide eyes. The hair and makeup teams, who were all under strict NDAs, were incredibly kind to Harry's daughters and even styled their hair and put a little blush and lip gloss on them. Harry could only be glad that they got to have a small part of this whole experience.

He was ready in no time, and suddenly it was time to go. Harry waited patiently and anxiously downstairs as the time to walk on the red carpet drew nearer. He was nervous about tonight for so many reasons, but all he could think about was what revealing such a well-kept secret would mean for his family.

Had they really thought this through? Did Y/n want to come tonight or was she humoring Harry? Would she be more comfortable watching from a dressing room? Or even here at home? What if something happened to GiGi or Natalia or Maeve—

"Harry?"

All his thoughts came to a halt as his wife appeared in front of him, brows furrowed with concern.

And as he blinked, taking her in for the first time since she disappeared to get ready, the only thought he was capable of thinking was he was pretty sure he'd just fallen in love all over again.

Y/n had secretly gone to a handful of events for years, they'd gone to dates at fancy restaurants, and had attended weddings that required dressing up. But all of those times Y/n had dressed to blend into the background so as not to raise suspicion. Tonight, however...

Tonight Y/n was meant to stand out, was meant to be noticed. She was in a dress of gauzy, white fabric that gathered in ruffles all the way down until the gown hit the floor. The fabric was light enough to see just a hint of skin, but not enough to reveal much, though Harry could identify every curve and dip her body made. She was ethereal, an angel in white, almost like—

"It almost looks like a wedding dress, huh?" Y/n mused, twisting so the gown swished back and forth on the floor. "Don't know if I would've worn this to our wedding, though."

Harry and Y/n never had a big white wedding. They'd snuck out to a courthouse one afternoon while One Direction was touring, with Niall and Louis as their witnesses while Liam distracted everyone at the hotel. It was small and rushed, and the judge definitely thought the couple was much too young to be getting married. They didn't even have rings, as a wedding band on Harry's finger would be completely unacceptable. But none of that mattered as they both recited the vows they prepared and sealed their union with a kiss.

Her jokes did the trick, and Harry's brain began functioning normally once more. He grinned and took her hand so she could spin and show him the whole thing. "The judge definitely would've raised his eyebrows."

Years went by and they never had a vow renewal. Since Harry had bought out his contract with One Direction's management, he'd wanted to have a proper wedding, but there was just never any time. And now that they were six kids in, free time was a pipe dream, though they were the kind of busy he would never be sorry for.

Tonight, though, in this dress, Y/n looked like she could walk down an aisle, and Harry was nearly tempted to run upstairs and grab the velvet box he'd had since he was seventeen years old.

"If you're not ready, I completely understand," he said.

"I'm nervous about tonight," Y/n admitted, and with one look at her face, Harry could see the anxiety written all over it.

They could keep the secret going, he could brave this night with Kid and Jeffrey and it would be great. He would miss Y/n and the rest of his family, but he would manage as he always did.

Y/n shook her head, and Harry's shoulders sagged just the tiniest bit with relief. "I want to be with you tonight. This is a big deal."

"It's nothing—"

"Don't do that," Y/n chided, holding Harry's face in her hands. "Don't minimize what a great achievement just being nominated is."

Y/n knew Harry like no one else. She knew he would try to downplay tonight if it made her worry about him less, but this was his big night. Win or lose, she was immensely proud of him, he had to know that.

"I'm coming, you just have to promise to hold my hand the entire night," she said.

Harry grinned. "What if I win and have to make a big speech?"

She wrapped her hands around his neck, her fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair. "Then and only then can you let go. Oh, and for your performance. But that's it."

"I think I can make that work."

Harry leaned in, his nose brushing against Y/n's teasingly until she pressed her lips against his. They were hardly brushing when the sound of footsteps hurtled down the stairs.

"Mommy! Simone says she gets to stay up all night to watch the show and I don't!"

"You're not old enough, Collette!"

"Neither are you!"

"Daddy, don't go," Julian cried, tugging on Harry's pant leg. He gave Y/n a look as they pulled apart to attend to their children. Sweeping Jules into his arms, he gave his only son a kiss on the cheek, which was already sticky with shed tears.

"Don't cry, Julian," he said softly, pushing the boy's thick hair from his face. "We won't be gone long. I promise."

Julian continued to cry, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Harry's neck, and Harry whispered softly into his ear until his son's little heart stopped beating so wildly in his chest. Jules hiccuped as Harry walked over to see that the argument between Maeve and Collette had been settled, and they were now admiring Y/n in her dress.

"I wish I could take you with me, Jules, but I don't think you'd like it very much," Harry said. He tried to set his son down, but his little legs clung to Harry's waist even tighter. "It'll be loud with lots of bright lights and not a chicken nugget in sight. I think it's best you stay home, don't you think?"

Julian nodded, but he was still clinging to Harry, who shot a look of desperation to his wife. Harry loved all of his children dearly, but they were on a tight schedule.

Y/n understood and took Julian into her arms, not at all worried about the couture dress she was wearing. She took him back upstairs where the babysitter was with Geneva and Natalia and Maeve. When she came back down a couple minutes later, Julian was gone.

"Poor thing tired himself out," she explained. Then, to her two oldest children, she said, "The second the last acceptance speech is done, up to bed. Understood?"

Simone and Collette nodded, then rushed forward to hug Y/n and Harry before ushering them out of the house, telling them to say hi to Auntie Lizzo.

As promised, Harry took Y/n's hand as they walked to the car that would take them to the theater that was hosting the Grammys. She looked at him appreciatively, resting her head on his shoulder as the car pulled away from their house.

"I'm proud of you," she said out of the blue. "If I don't get the chance to say it when you win, when you win," she repeated when Harry tried to object. "I just want you to know how proud I am of you, and not just as an artist, but as a dad and a husband too. You're one in a million, H, and I'm so happy I get to be a small part of that."

Harry was speechless. There was nothing to say that would express how much he appreciated Y/n, so he settled for a kiss. His hand was steady as he cradled the back of her head, his lips immediately finding the familiar place around her bottom lip. He suddenly wished Y/n's dress didn't have so much fabric so he could have better access to her, but he settled for trailing his hands up and down her arms and kissing all along her jaw and neck and chest until she eventually pulled him up again.

"This is one way to settle nerves," she joked, thumb grazing his jaw.

"Let me know if your nerves need any more settling throughout the night. We can sneak away during commercial breaks."

Y/n shook her head at the look Harry gave her, the same one that landed her pregnant six times. "I'll keep that in mind."

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Harry took a bow at the end of his performance, then straightened. His eyes trailed the room back to where his table was, finding Y/n's gaze instantly. Her hands were clasped together tightly, covering the bright smile on her face.

Looking at her, his heart settled. He'd gotten lost in the heat of the performance, but she always managed to bring him back down to earth.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Before he could think about it, he pressed his fingers to his mouth, then gestured out, blowing a kiss to his wife. Not caring who was watching, Y/n reached up and grabbed the kiss out of the air and placed it on her chest, her eyes crinkling even further as she continued to smile from ear to ear.

"So, Harry, talk to us a little about how it feels to win Album of the Year."

Harry gave his answer, talking about how surprised he was to win and what it meant to him that his music meant so much to people. Y/n thought it was cute how he stumbled over his words, trying to piece together how he felt.

"And how do you plan to celebrate? Can we expect to see you at any after parties tonight?"

"Uh, no. It's back home to the little ones for me," he said, the answer rolling off his tongue before it was too late.

"Little ones?"

"My, um, my cats. I have a few cats that are practically my children. I'll be celebrating with them tonight."

"There's no way in hell anyone is gonna believe that," Y/n muttered to Jeff, who was holding his head in his hands, not unlike Harry had when he won earlier.

"Well, Harry, we wish you all the best!"

"Thank you, I appreciate that," he said before shuffling away from the press room.

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

My heart 🥹

latina!y/n for Grammy blurb eso bc benito is nominated!!

it always feels weird to mention other celebrities in fics, but i just know y/n would be the life of the party at the grammys. enjoy!

Harry was nervous about this year's Grammys, of course he was.

But trust his fiance to steal the show from him completely.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

You were buzzing in a way you never had before. This year, you got to sit at a table with Harry and his team at the Grammys, but not only that, you had prime seating next to Adele, Lizzo, and Taylor Swift, and Beyonce. You promised yourself you would be on your best behavior, that you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself or Harry. There were going to be cameras everywhere, you didn't need that kind of media attention.

But the second tequila touched your lips and Bad Bunny appeared onstage, it was over.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

"Get up and dance with me!"

It was only the first minute of the performance, but Y/n was on her feet and pulling Harry up with her. Both of them knew that Harry was on the shy side, and that he would've been more inclined to dance after a couple of drinks, so Y/n wouldn't have minded if he stayed sitting down. But to her surprise, he stood up.

She jumped up and down and squealed, and Harry could only smile at her in return as she began to dance to the opening performance. He swayed a little and clapped along, keeping his eyes on Y/n the whole time.

She was just so happy, like this music lived in her soul. Harry knew Y/n loved his music, but he also understood the pride his love was feeling as she listened to the music she grew up hearing in her native tongue. And honestly, it was quite magical to watch. And infectious too. So much so that she garnered the attention of some of the backup dancers that were moving through the crowd. They took over for Harry, who had been holding Y/n's hands and spinning her around every now and again.

Harry could hardly contain his smile as he admired Y/n. She was stunning in her red gown, even more so as she moved in perfect time with the music. This night was about him, and nerves had gripped him all day, but none of that mattered to him at that moment, not when her smile was so big it lit her from within.

From that moment on, there was hardly a moment when Y/n was sitting down. If someone was performing, she was up and dancing alongside Lizzo or Taylor, who were more than happy to match her energy.

Harry didn't mind that when people stopped by his table, they ended up having a conversation and sharing a drink with Y/n. In fact, he was happy to see his love so outgoing in public when she was usually so shy around such well-known faces.

Just a few months ago she was practically hiding behind his arm as he introduced her to Chris Pine, and now she was dancing with Doja Cat as Queen Latifah and Missy Elliott performed. Y/n had become the life of the party, yet few people knew who she was.

"She's absolutely lovely."

"She's a doll, Harry."

"I just ran into the nicest young woman, and she said she was with you!"

"Promise me you're coming to the after party."

Compliment after compliment after compliment, and Harry fielded each one proudly. So often Y/n got insecure about what the public thought of her, but she had completely enchanted every single person in the room tonight. It was better than any award Harry was up for tonight.

And then, of course, was the moment when Bad Bunny actually came over to their table at the commercial break, which of course was when Y/n went quiet. Harry shot her an amused look when she gripped his hand tightly and let him lead the conversation, especially when she was the one who spoke Spanish.

"And I saw you from the stage. I should've hired you to be one of my dancers," he said.

Y/n blushed and gripped Harry's hand even harder. "I...I'm just a huge fan. Of—Of your music, and what you've done for the Latinx community...I—"

She gushed to her favorite artist in a rush of Spanish that Harry managed to follow, that same beautiful smile on her face. Not an ounce of jealousy coursed through him, even as Bad Bunny smiled at his love in return. She was still holding his hand, and he knew what it was like to be moved by music, to get to express admiration for someone he'd been a fan of for a long time.

When Bad Bunny eventually left, Y/n loosed out a long breath. Harry leaned over and kissed her temple. "You did great, lovie."

"I think I just blacked out," she admitted, eyes wide with disbelief.

Harry grinned and kissed her again, pulling her chair closer to his. "I'll tell you all about it at the next commercial break.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

It was the end of the night, the last award was about to be called. Once again, your hand was in Harry's, only this time he was gripping yours just as hard as you held his. His breaths were shaky as he waited for the winner to be announced. Harry was as humble as they came, and you knew he would be proud of whoever won the award, but you also knew how much pressure he put on himself. He wanted this, badly, and you wanted it for him.

Muttering prayer after prayer under your breath, you watched the stage, hardly blinking the entire time. When Trevor Noah looked down at the card, then walked over to the line of fans behind him, toward one in particular, you knew.

"Bubba, it's you. You—"

"H—Harry—Harry Styles."

The room erupted, but Harry curled in on himself, hiding his face in his hands. You were there in a heartbeat, resting a hand on his back and whispering softly in his ear. "You did it, bubba. I'm so proud of you. I love you. Now get up there. You deserve it."

Harry finally emerged, and you could tell he was close to crying. You hugged and kissed him briefly, then stepped out of the way to let Kid and Tyler embrace him. Lizzo was screaming and jumping beside you, turning her phone toward you to capture your reaction.

As Harry walked up to the stage and headed straight to the older woman who was his "biggest fan," you immediately had a thought. "Anne. Anne should be here."

You grabbed Harry's phone because it was closest to you and unlocked it, pulling up his mother's contact. The first ring barely went through before the FaceTime call connected. Harry's family was all together to celebrate, but you quickly hushed them as you turned the camera toward the stage.

The moment Harry began talking, you teared up. Harry was so sweet and so clearly awestruck that he couldn't find the words to properly express himself. But he deserved this, more than he thought he did. Harry worked so hard, created something so honest and endearing that you had no doubts that he would win (would you have minded if Beyonce or Bad Bunny won? No, but this was well deserved).

"And, uh, to my best friend, the love of my life, I love you. Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world and allowing me to create music that reflects that. This is for you."

"If you don't go meet your man backstage right now," Lizzo muttered to you, to which Anne muttered her approval from Harry's phone.

Laughing, you quickly dabbed your tears away and rushed off to where you saw Harry disappear moments ago.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Harry was shaking hands and receiving claps on the back from people backstage. He was smiling, but in a dumbstruck kind of way. He still couldn't quite believe he'd won the award for Album of the Year.

He'd stopped to talk to someone as he handed the Grammy back to a crew member (the real one with his name on it would come in a few days) when Kid tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. Kid nodded down the hall, and Harry followed his friend's gaze to where a woman in red was standing, her hands clasped together and searching. Searching for him.

Harry went over to her immediately, collapsing in her arms. Y/n held onto him fiercely, one hand cupping the back of his head while the other rubbed up and down his back. The force of everything that just happened crashed into him, and almost as if she knew, his love held him that much tighter, kissing the top of his head over and over again.

"I think I just blacked out up there," he said against her, not quite ready to face the rest of the world just yet.

Y/n tipped his head up and kissed him hard and quick. There was a look in her eye that had Harry blushing; it was the look she gave him whenever she wanted to pull him into the closest room with a lock and be alone for a while. But all she did was rub her thumb against his cheekbone affectionately. "I'll tell you all about it later."

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

Part 3 please? You can’t just leave us hanging like this, i love the two pieces! They were so good!!

Favourite (2)

Summary: harry loves one of his children less

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 1804 words

A/N: y’all know I’ve been feeling sensitive about posting this piece so if you have any comments BE NICE BE NICE BE NICE 🥺

Part 1

___

The events from the previous weeks rattled the Styles’ household. Caleb woke to a tense morning the next morning where his dad was nowhere to be seen and Beatrice was holed up in her room. Dinner was even more awkward when silence draped over their backs like a cold blanket. Y/N tried her best to continue a dwindling conversation but there was only so much she could say until Beatrice’s silence towards Harry’s questions started to suggest that she didn’t want to speak to her dad. The youngest daughter, Ruby, seemed to be the holy grail of each family dinner when she babbled about her day in pre-school.

Beatrice was set to leave home in exactly two days. Y/N could feel a sense of pride seeing her eldest leave the family home, setting off to university and becoming her own person. Y/N knew that Beatrice had a difficult time separating Beatrice, Harry Styles’ daughter, to just Beatrice. Y/N looked back to when Beatrice was younger–an unexpected surprise that she learned to love when she felt the first symptoms of morning sickness–how she was bound to change her and Harry’s life forever. 

___

Y/N wasn’t sure if her brain blocked out the memories of Harry being hostile to their first child until recently; maybe it was a denial that there was no way Harry could blatantly show anything less than love for their child. But the more Y/N thought about Beatrice’s birthdays, recitals and school events; all she could see notice now was Harry’s distanced posture. His distraction when Beatrice performed on stage, the excuses when she had a dance recital, and unenthusiastic greeting of ‘happy birthday’. 

Harry leaned his shoulder against the door frame of the barren room, observing the bed and bedside table as it was stripped bare of the flower-printed sheets, watching his wife flip through the photo album filled with Beatrice’s accomplishments. The parents could not help but let a wave of nostalgia wash over them. The lamp on the bedside table lit the entire room. The fairy lights that were hung on her wall were taken down a few days ago; one of the items that Beatrice packed last. 

“She asked me to help her put the lights up,” Harry whispered, tracing his fingers over the cream walls, walking over to where Y/N sat on the mattress. “I told her I was busy and she did it by herself,”

Y/N sighed, lifting her head to direct Harry to the spot beside her, “I know,” She sunk with Harry’s weight at her side, his slouched shoulders further emphasizing his despondent mood. “We raised a good done, hm?”

Harry shook his head in disappointment, “No..not me,” His chest ached with missed opportunities to bond with his daughter; all because he couldn’t get over the fact that she came as a surprise. He was at the peak of his career and he wasn’t too glad that he was forced to push everything back–his album release, promo, and tour–to the next year all because of a child that he didn’t even plan on having in the first place. 

In retrospect, Harry should have known better. He should have reacted like a mature adult, a father-to-be and became an actual dad to Beatrice instead of holding a grudge to an innocent little baby. He still had a successful career that he always dreamed of but he can never turn back time for all the shortcomings he had with his child. 

Harry felt extremely guilty for missing Beatrice’s childhood, so he tried to compensate for the guilt looming over him by presenting his younger children the type of love that he failed to give her. How daft was he to not notice his actions would only push her away from him? That, to Beatrice, it was Harry’s way of highlighting the fact that he would never accept the way she was conceived? 

“What’s this?” Harry mused, tilting his jaw on where her hand rested to keep the page bookmarked. 

“Jus’ some pictures over the years. Wanna see?”

Here Harry was, flicking the glossy pages of an old photo album, looking at a dopey-smiled Beatrice on her first day of kindergarten. Her hair was in pigtails done by Harry that morning because Y/N had an early day at work. She was saddened that she couldn’t go but Harry reassured her that he will be there every step of the way. It was a half-lie. Harry dropped her off, took a quick picture and left the premises as soon as he could, missing the way his daughter’s eyes glazed over. Lips formed a pout and her tiny chin quivered as she watched her dad drive off in his black Range Rover.

The next photo was 7-year old Beatrice in her pink long sleeve and a wispy tutu wrapped around her waist. Her hair was pulled back in a ballerina bun; this time was done by Y/N if the slickness of her hairstyle was anything to go by. The left page was of Beatrice on the sidelines of the auditorium. The room was partially filled. Harry concluded that it was before the performance because of the dimple printed on her cheek since the right page showcased a sullen girl surrounded by her dance mates and their parents. Harry could remember Y/N’s frantic phone calls that night, asking ‘where are you?’ and ‘what time are you getting here?’ as the faint music blared through the speakers. 

Harry gulped at the memory. He came home to find Beatrice asleep in her costume, a plastic tiara gripped in her hand. Y/N said that she wanted to give it to him. Beatrice could at least give him something from her performance because he didn’t make it.

__

Y/N’s phone buzzed in her pocket, halting Harry’s thoughts as she answered the call. She pointed towards the door, mouthing silently that she had to answer it. “It’s Beatrice,”

Harry’s brows perched on his forehead, nervousness filled his body at the sound of her name. He didn’t even make things right before she left; too afraid of rejection when he deserved it. 

His fingers flicked through the pages. Beatrice’s piano recital. 

She was fourteen at that time. Caleb was sat on the seat next to him while Ruby was being nursed in Y/N’s arms. Beatrice peeked through the curtains, wanting to make sure that her dad was planted in his seat. She was excited to showcase the skills she learned in the past year. She was hoping to impress Harry in musical terms when she won first place. Beatrice was sure of it! She practiced for long hours until her fingers were stiff from overuse. Her other tries to catch her dad’s attention garnered her little-to-no attention and this was her last idea. 

Y/N gave her daughter a thumbs up as Beatrice walked towards the grand piano center stage. 

Beatrice was in the middle of her piece when she heard her Caleb’s curious voice over the silent crowd, “Dad, where are you going?”

She looked up just in time to catch Harry’s emotionless eyes. His expression was painted in annoyance and his phone was clutched in his hand. Beatrice’s fingers jittered with a shaky breath, feeling her fingertips trace over the wrong keys and eventually stopping altogether. The crowd gasped, murmurs flittering in and out of her ears as she stared at her lap. She tried to compose herself, maybe even pick up where she left off and continue playing as if she didn’t stop. The show must go on, right?

When Beatrice gathered enough courage to continue, she took a deep breath and lifted her head towards where her family sat. She was certain that her dad took his seat again but she could not be more wrong. Beatrice was just barely able to see Harry’s blazer flapping as the door closed shut behind him. 

__

“She ran off stage after that,” Caleb spoke from beside him. “Didn’t want mum around. She kept asking for you but you left or something,”

Harry closed his eyes tightly, tears dripping from the corners as he breathed out a sigh. He did. He left the building as soon as he could. The urgent phone call he received was from Jeff relaying that the media claimed to have found where his kids went to school. He couldn’t jeopardize their safety because of people wanting to meet him; because of him. There was no way he would let anything hurt his children. 

“I know I haven’t been the best dad to your sister,” Harry shut the book softly, wrapping his arm around Caleb’s broad shoulders. “But I really do love her,”

Caleb’s curls tickled his ears as he nodded, “She knows,”

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise, “Really?”

“Yeah. Before she left, she was talking about everything she was gonna miss. She said she was going to miss you, even if you, and I quote, ‘might not miss her’,” Caleb formed his fingers into bunny ears.

Harry desperately wished that he was brave enough to fix his mistakes. A simple, wholehearted talk with Beatrice might’ve been all he needed to start mending his relationship with her. But he stood back like a coward; hiding from his own daughter because of an irrational fear of rejection. Instead, he walked by her room, door left wide open as Beatrice gathered clothes from her closet to pack in the next box. Each time he would pass by the hallway to his and Y/N’s room, more of her items would be packed up, taped and ready to go. Packed boxes slowly filled the hallway and her closet emptied as her clothing was folded in an organized manner.

First, it was her desk. Her pens and notebooks leaving the cluttered space empty. Then, it was her hangers stripped off her dresses, jackets and coats. Her shoes were the next to go, leaving more space in the downstairs closet by the door until only one pair remained unpacked; the one she used to walk out of their house. Next, it was her dresser packed with moisturizers and makeup closed tightly to prevent spillage. Beatrice peeled off her duvet and bedsheets to wash the night before she left, opting to sleep next to Ruby on her final night at home. 

One image that he kept reeling in his head like a film projector was Beatrice climbing the metal steps of the ladder from the garage. She placed it sturdy on the floor before she stretched her hands to unhook the fairy lights from the wall. Unlike before where Beatrice knocked on his office door, hesitantly asking for help to put up the fairy lights–she didn’t ask for Harry’s help taking it down. 

___

A/N: I know that a lot of people might’ve wanted a full circle ending where Harry apologizes but I’m pretty happy with this ending because it’s open-ended. 

___

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