#finelinevogue blurbs

[finelinevogue]

navigation

this is my masterlists of all masterlists <3 i write for harry styles, acotar, marauders, bucky etc.✨🌙🌟

requests : open

build a blurb

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

🌟 harry styles

masterlist 2021

masterlist 2022

masterlist 2023

masterlist 2024

🌌 ACOTAR

🕰️ marauders era

🪐 andrew garfield

🍂 kit connor

🐉 hiccup (HTTYD)

🗡️ bucky barnes

🏜️ timothee chalamet

[finelinevogue]

my queen has yet delivered us another all indulgent fic :((💔

what was my life up until my eyes met this fic? seriously? it was so good. actually good is an understatement, but i can’t find a word decent enough word to actually encompass how i feel about this. like harry was so shy, my baby :(( and it’s all because he liked a girl :( like they were both crushing on each other and it was so clear to see, but the slow-burn to get to that final kiss was absolutely worth every word. it was a joyous read and the way you write queen is second to none :(( 💔💔

it also made me really nostalgic in a way, thinking back to little moments on tour and feeling a part of that again :((( thank you <33

shy

being mr. azoff's assistant was y/n's dream job, it was just a bummer that his most beloved client seemed to hate her.

wordcount: 13.5k+

—————

"Did you want anything, Harry? (Y/N)'s about to make a coffee run." 

Although she'd never admit it, (Y/N) held her breath as she fiddled her fingers behind her back, awaiting any response. She already had a good idea of what he would say when he bothered to give an answer, but she still had a tiny hope he'd prove her wrong. 

"No, 'm alright." 

He didn't even raise his head from where it was buried in his phone. Mr. Azoff gave (Y/N) that same polite smile he always did whenever Mr. Styles rejected her services, like he wasn't sure why Mr. Styles wasn't more accepting but it wasn't his place to ask or change the habit. Mr. Azoff treated her right and that was what she tried to focus on, not that the fact his best friend and someone she could consider to be a creative idol, couldn't seem to even give her a moment of his time. 

"Okay, I'll be back in a minute, Mr. Azoff," (Y/N) chirped pleasantly, well versed in how to brush off being brushed off. 

(Y/N) was grateful for the fact her boss's preferred shop was only a few blocks away from his office, giving her the chance to clear her head with fresh (or as fresh as it could be here in L.A.) air instead of stuffing herself into her car. 

Mr. Styles was always like this. Why it still bothered her when he brushed her off or ignored any of her offers of help, she wasn't sure, but it did. That world famous kindness that circulated within the industry as well as what was flung around Twitter had been what she was expecting when she finally made it through the vetting process to be hired as Jeff Azoff's assistant, knowing full well who one of his biggest clients was. She had been realistic, knowing that Harry Styles wasn't going to be her best friend, fawning over her at all times, or suddenly fall in love—this wasn't like those stories she remembers reading when she was young—but she had figured he would give her more than a passing glance the first time she met him. 

Since that first day where he offered a single sentence introduction, she'd been waiting in vain for anything more to happen. More often than not, his conversation would stop when she entered the room or go quiet enough to let her know she wasn't to be included. He gave her plain smiles, not even the hint of a dimple, when he bothered to acknowledge her presence, usually when he would skirt around her to leave the room she'd just entered. She never got a chance to experience firsthand the humor everyone praised, the kindness he all but trademarked as a middle name, or the gentle vulnerability he gave to those who needed it. He could barely even meet her eyes, his gaze moving to his phone or where he plucked at his sleeves or painted nails. 

To be fair, she was still fairly new at the job, only about six months in to her position, so there was a good chance he still needed some warming up after being so used to Mr. Azoff's last assistant that had been employed for years before relocating and leaving the position. Mr. Styles was also known to be shy, something a few others had disclosed to her when they noticed she didn't have much to add whenever he was brought up. Maybe he needed a little more time, and that was something she was more than willing to give, along with the space it seemed he needed.

At least until his European tour started. Then, he would have to at least get used to her presence, seeing as they were to be sanctioned to matching flights, hotels, and backstage areas for the better part of the next three months. She wouldn't be able to give him much space then. Hopefully he wouldn't hate her more after those ninety days together. 

As much as the walk to the cafe and the extra Matcha latte she treated herself with, cleared her head and had her back on her feet after being blown back by the nonchalance paid to her entire existence by someone she felt singled out by, the effect could only last for so long when she entered the office. 

Before pushing the door open, she could hear the voices inside happily chattering away. Mr. Styles' cackling laugh that she was sure had his eyes creasing closed with his head thrown back was the most prevalent noise, something she usually only caught the tail end. As she expected, the second she gave a gentle rapping of her knuckles against the door just before pushing it open, all sound stopped, even Mr. Azoff's chattering trailing off once he realized Mr. Styles was done interacting for the moment. 

"Here you go," she chirped, passing along the coffee to her boss with an unbothered smile that was much stronger than she felt, "Is there anything else I can do for you?" 

"No, no," he shook his head, "Not until this afternoon. Go and enjoy your lunch, (Y/N)." 

She gave a quiet nod of her head, chancing a single look in Mr. Styles' direction. He had his gaze fixed on his hands. A flush clung to his skin, surely a lingering effect of the laughter she had interrupted. 

"Okay, let me know if that changes," she offered with a short smile before turning on her heel.

Just as she left the room, closing the door behind her, she heard Mr. Azoff heave a muffled sigh on the other side. 

"Harry..." 

"Jeff, please. She jus'—" 

(Y/N) left before she could hear much more. She didn't need to know what Mr. Styles thought about her. 

—————

Despite the buzz filling the terminal, (Y/N) almost couldn't believe the way not a single person had noted Mr. Styles' presence. Not even a single muttering or whisper of his name could be heard in the busy place. 

He sat in peace, a grey hoodie with the strings tied covered his torso, hood up over a pink beanie that concealed his curls. He sat with his legs spread wide, taking up space with his black sweats folded over his legs. Scrolling through his phone, he was in his own world with his chin propped up in his hand, cheek smushed against his ring-bare fingers. He only looked up when boarding was called. 

(Y/N) followed quietly behind the trio of Mr. Styles, her boss, and Mr. Lambert, the tour's stylist. She could hear the tittering and quiet conversation in front of her while other members of production and the team trailed behind her. Without Mr. Azoff's wife joining them just yet for this tour, she didn't have many close friends within this group for the time being. 

It was all a blur, finding her seat on the plane and placing her carryon above. She was the first in her row, huddling close to the window seat. She knew Mr. Azoff was going to join her as soon as he finished doing whatever it was he and the Harry's were doing, so at least she wasn't going to be completely alone. 

Biding her time until take off while the rest of the plane filled up, (Y/N) distracted herself with answering emails on Mr. Azoff's behalf. She verified hotel arrangements, replied to all the correspondence that went along with Mrs. Azoff joining them later in the week, and anything else that needed her attention before takeoff. 

Huddled into her corner of the row, the early call time for the flight began to catch up with her. The emails in front of her couldn't hold her attention against the tiny pillow she had managed to sneak into the backpack she shoved under her seat, the plush sandwiched between her cheek and the sidewall of the plane. The sound of shuffling feet as the rest of the flight filled up was like white noise to her cloud-puffed brain. 

(Y/N) couldn't help herself before she was fluttering her eyes closed. Surely, Mr. Azoff would wake her before takeoff if she really passed out. 

She wasn't sure how long she sat, resting her eyes with her limbs floating in the in-between realm before much of the shuffling ceased and the heft of someone settling in beside her sounded in the empty space. She didn't bother blinking her eyes open, even when she heard chattering beside her. Mr. Azoff was one of the voices, followed by someone who sounded a little too close to her for his comfort. 

"Jeffery..." Mr. Styles sighed. 

"Stop acting like a child, H," her boss scolded, voice stern though he was quiet, "She's asleep, I'm not going to make you talk to her." 

(Y/N) was grateful for the way she had her cheeks mushed between her shoulder and her fluffed pillow. Maybe if she covered them, her seat mates wouldn't be able to feel the embarrassed heat gathering under her skin. 

Mr. Styles was sitting right next to her, she realized when she heard the heavy intake of a breath leave his lungs. She wasn't sure how she'd do it, but it looked like she was going to have to pretend to be asleep all the way to the hotel. Maybe, she could convince everyone she was a very well-organized and direction-following sleepwalker if she was careful. 

That thought didn't last long, (Y/N) having to break her facade at the sound of Mr. Azoff's voice calling to her.

"(Y/N)," he started, speaking around Mr. Styles. He repeated her name a couple of more times, prompting her to mime opening her eyes as if she'd been dead asleep only moments prior before he continued, "We're about to take off." 

"Oh," she smiled, the curve tight, "Thank you." 

If not for the fact she was sure she would die if they knew she had overheard the way Mr. Styles couldn't stand to even sit next to her, she would have hesitated more before she crossed her gaze to the man beside her. His eyes were already on her when she looked at him, expression tight as he seemingly forced a smile in her direction. His back was stiff against the seat, hands twisted in his lap with flaking nail polish. His gaze didn't linger on her for very long before he looked away, just in time for the safety spiel from the steward team.  

Following suit, she followed through the motions of checking her seatbelt, absently locating the exits, and curling into her seat by the time they were cleared for takeoff. She didn't like this part, but it was enough to huddle herself against the back of her seat and brace herself with her hands clenched into the armrest to her right side. 

She sat with her eyes closed, nails digging into the leather of the armrest as she felt the motion beneath her feet, the runway disappearing underneath them until the turbulence of takeoff shook the body of the plane. (Y/N) breathed her way through it, hunkering down into the slouchy fit of her hoodie. 

It wasn't until the turbulence evened out, steady windfall starting in the dark of the early morning, that she felt eyes on her. Without really thinking, she blinked her eyes open only to find Mr. Styles looking to her with something softer painted over his features. 

He didn't immediately flit away when her eyes met his, allowing himself to touch over her features with the warmth of his gaze. His tanned skin still held a buttery warmth even under the draining overhead lights of the cabin, stubble covering the bottom half of his face she'd never seen him grow out until recently. His eye contact was famous around the world, unrelenting though welcoming as it gave her a chance to see the flecks and streaks through the moss of his irises. (Y/N) floundered under his attention, unsure of what to do with something she doesn't think she's ever had before. 

"Um—Did—Or, do you want m-my pillow?" she asked, blindly reaching for the little plush fit between her body and the sidewall. 

At the sound of her voice, Mr. Styles seemed to realize what exactly he was doing and who he was glazing over with his eyes. He shook his head then, curls peeking out from underneath his beanie. 

"No, thank you," he mumbled, reaching into his hoodie pocket to pull out a pair of headphones. 

That was all his attention that she was granted until his headphones were plugged into his ears and she was alone again in her row. 

—————

"And finally, on drums, Sarah Jones!" 

(Y/N) was blown away as the area erupted into cheers she was sure could rival the screams that sounded when Mr. Styles first appeared on stage. She watched on from the mouth of the backstage area, her boss at her side with a drink in hand, as Mr. Styles reveled in the screaming and yelling, a bright dimpled smile on his face. If not for the fact she was technically there in a professional sense and this was only the second show she'd had the privilege of watching, she would have joined in and screamed and cheered for the band that was being introduced. (After getting a chance to meet every moving part of his touring band as well as watching them perform, she very much so understood the enthusiasm offered to these characters).

It was when Mr. Styles joined in on the fanfare, pumping his fist and making a noise that sounded like he was barking along with the crowd that she couldn't hold back her laughter. The layered fringe hanging from his jacket glittered in the light, matching the sheen of sweat that covered his shirtless body. He threw his head back with a bright laugh she almost wished he had the microphone held to his mouth for, just so she could hear what his joy sounded like. 

Even just this moment alone was something she was sure she was always going to remember, no matter how many times she was going to witness this over and over. Never had she been to a concert that held the same energy as these arenas—and eventually stadiums—she'd visited. She couldn't blame a single person in this room for everything they did to get to this place, every moment of planning, saving, celebrating, and crying. She understood. 

Mr. Styles was meant to perform. Even with his brief breaks he spent on movie sets, it was clear why he came back to this space with these people that followed him like honeybees and gave so much love and kindness to him. 

She watched as he finished his introductions of the band, launching into another song that had the whole arena moving and dancing. Even without the help of the spotlight and the cameras following his every move, she was sure she wouldn't be able to keep her eyes from him; he commanded the space, with every intention of taking that attention and thriving under it. 

Despite the relationship—or lack there of—off stage, (Y/N) couldn't wait to see this almost every night for however many months she had the privilege of standing stage side.

—————

"Call me if you need anything!" 

Mr. Azoff shook off (Y/N)'s offer as she started off in the direction of the green room being used as the catering space for the day. A busy morning had ensued, leaving (Y/N) running around trying to find any trace of an adequate wifi connection in the middle of the venue just so she could answer emails and show up to video meetings she was attending on Mr. Azoff's behalf. It wouldn't have been so bad if not for the time differences given the fact she was on a completely different continent than any business she was working with. The stress of it all had her beat before the morning had even touched into the double digits for the day, still with another handful of hours worth of work to get through. 

Finally—finally—she had typed away at every email, fielded every phone call, and spaced out the following day's agenda given the lack of a performance crowding Mr. Azoff's schedule. Now, she could sit down and eat before shuttling back to the hotel for a nap—as long as she wasn't needed for anything else, of course.

The catering space wasn't as busy as she sure it had been an hour prior, only a few others lingering about. One of the few happened to be Mr. Styles. 

A clip was holding his curls back, a plain t-shirt with a pair of basketball shorts covering his legs revealed he had just finished with a workout before he would shower off and get to his soundcheck. He had his phone in hand as he forked food into his mouth, that intense look on his face that she always seemed to catch on him. His brows were knitted heavily in the middle, shrouding the bright green of his eyes in the shadow of his brow with his jaw tight as he chewed down whatever he had picked over from the table. 

(Y/N) flitted her eyes to the rest of the crew littering the space before she was caught by Mr. Styles who seemed to always somehow know when someone had spotted him, even with nothing more than a phone camera. The little whiteboard catering hung above the food table was filled out with the day's menu. The prettily curved words brought a bright smile to (Y/N)'s face when she spotted the forth item down the list. 

The catering team's arancini was easily one of (Y/N)'s favorite things she's ever eaten, on this tour or otherwise. She didn't care that it wasn't more than some risotto rice left over from the night before's dinner, repurposed as to minimize waste and turned into a crunchy, cheesy ball with the perfect acidic marinara served alongside it. If she could, she would live off those little pieces by themselves. Hopefully, there were at least a few left for her to devour, even if they were a little cold at this point. 

Readying her plate with a small serving of Caesar salad and the lemon baked salmon (Mr. Styles' favorite and top request from what she'd heard), (Y/N) worked down the line until she reached the covered basin that held the arancini she easily dreamt of at least five times since the first bite. Lifting the lid, the fresh scent of bright tomatoes and fragrant oregano filled her senses, the bite of the smell hitting her harder with her empty stomach. 

Nothing hit quite as hard on her expectant tummy than the fact she realized only a second too late that there wasn't a single rice ball left in the warmer. A thin layer of remaining sauce was laid along the bottom, but nothing was dropped beside the mushed tomatoes. 

Maybe she was being a little dramatic, but (Y/N) felt her shoulders drop at the sight of the empty container. To be fair, she was almost two hours late to serving time, so she couldn't be that surprised that there wasn't any left to spare. Surely, she wasn't the only one obsessed with the parmesan coating on the outside of the sticky rice. She couldn't blame anyone for jumping on the opportunity to take as many as they could while they were there. 

(Y/N) replaced the lid, taking her half filled plate to one of the small tables set up in the room. The day began to catch up with her as she sat down. Her morning had been hectic enough to suck the energy out of her bones, now combined with the disappointment of how high she put herself at the mention of her favorite food before finding it all gone. She slumped into her chair, taking out her phone and finally looking at something that wasn't work-related for the first time that day. 

Every bite she scooped into her mouth was monotonous as she slipped a pair of earbuds in before screening the missed messages she'd had to ignore for the morning. Music was filtering through her headphones, the perfect distraction to her brain that felt entirely too empty now that she wasn't running at top speed like she had been the second she'd woke up. If not for the texture of each bite she took, she wouldn't know exactly what she was eating with the way she couldn't use even muster the minuscule amount of energy it would take to glance at her fork.  

With her eyes glued to her phone as a video now played out on screen, (Y/N) didn't have enough room in her head to keep track of the rest of the room. As much as she prides herself on being a good assistant, especially being so new to this position, she doesn't think she would notice if Mr. Azoff walked in and screamed out her name while banging pots and pans. 

That was exactly the reason she didn't notice Mr. Styles approaching her table either. 

It wasn't until she noticed a plate being slid onto the table beside her, a hand complete with a tattooed cross and green glittery nails keeping a hold of the lip until she managed to pull an earbud out. Looking up, Mr. Styles still had that tight look on his face, his free hand fidgeting at his side like he was itching to get out of there. 

"Yes?" she chirped, assuming he was finally taking her up on her offers to help him as well when she assisted Mr. Azoff. 

Watching as Mr. Styles dropped his gaze from hers, (Y/N) had to keep from tipping her head at him. That wasn't like him at all, unable to keep eye contact. From what she knew, that was something he insisted on. She hoped he was okay. 

"Um—'M full, but I thought I'd ask if y'wanted any before I threw these away," he said, his voice floating under his breath. 

It was then that (Y/N) finally noted what was on his plate, finding a duo of the arancini balls she had been mourning only moments earlier. The same fragrant, acidic sauce laid underneath it along with shreds of parmesan cheese sprinkled atop, the same way she would have plated it. She had to keep herself from drooling at the sight. 

"A-Are you sure?" 

A beat passed, the green of Mr. Styles' gaze finally meeting hers again. "I thought these were your favorite." 

(Y/N) had to stop herself from letting a pinch touch at her brows. "I mean, yeah, they are, b—" 

"Then, 'm sure." 

The deep vibrato of his voice was more soothing than any note of music she played could ever hope to be, the same voice she'd had the privilege of listening to every night while on the road on the loudspeakers. Despite the giving nature of his tone, underlying softness floating alongside, she knew there wasn't much room to argue. Besides, (Y/N) didn't think she had the strength to say no to his offer with that plate in front of her. 

"Thank you, Mr. Styles," she smiled, reaching for the plate as he retracted his grip. 

A chaste smile curved his lips, the tip of his nose seemingly blushing red before he gave her a quiet nod of his head. He didn't say anything else before he walked away, leaving her to constitute her two plates of food into one with that warmth in her stomach that could have energized her enough to work another hectic morning. Her only complaint was that she wished he would have sat down with her. She'd even give up his offer of the arancini if that meant he'd sit down beside her and finish his meal. 

She didn't see him again until he was leaving the greenroom with a granola bar in hand, one bite already taken out. She had thought he said he was full. 

It was with that thought that, shortly after, (Y/N) realized she had never told Mr. Styles what her favorite food was. 

—————

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear (Y/N), happy birthday to you!" 

(Y/N)'s skin felt warm with all eyes on her, a sheet cake in front of her with frosting flowers and twinkling candles stuck through. She didn't know what to do with everyone's eyes on her, twisting in her spot with a shy smile on her lips as the song came to a close. Fluttering her eyes to a close, she blew out the candles while everyone cheered. A wish absently flittered through her head, hoping for happiness to come to everyone in this room with her as they deserved so much after surprising her with a birthday celebration in the middle of an international tour. 

"Thank you all, so much," (Y/N) muttered once the room grew quiet, her fingers knotted into a sheepish pile as she swept her gaze across the gathered crowd, "I didn't even realize anyone knew it was my birthday, this really means a lot. Thank you." 

All of her new friends, crew and production members for the tour that she had grown close with over the last few weeks, all gave her mixed mutterings of more birthday wishes, that of course they remembered, and they were all more than happy to be a part of this with her. After the show tonight, they all promised to take her out to one of the clubs in town to help her celebrate before they would be off for the next city the following day. Cutting the cake came next, the grouping of crew began to break off as conversations rose in volume in the green room, leaving (Y/N) to soak in the atmosphere as the creamy icing spread over her tongue at first bite. 

She truthfully had no idea anyone had been aware of her birthday, let alone have the time to put something like this together. Sure, it wasn't a huge celebration, but the fact a cake had been secured, complete with personalized frosting spelling out her name while on the road, was enough to have her heart hurting from how full it was. Even Mr. Styles had made it, huddling himself in one of the small corners with his arms folded across his chest as he sang along to the birthday song. She was pretty sure he had even been a few minutes late to a fitting for the next slew of tour outfits just so he could be apart of something like this for her. 

"Happy birthday, (Y/N)," Mr. Azoff said, coming up behind her with his wife only a few paces behind, both with a plate of cake in hands. 

(Y/N)'s features softened immediately as she took him in. "Thank you so much, Mr. Azoff," she started, still disregarding every invitation for her to call him by his first name, "You didn't need to put anything like this together at all. Really, thank you so much." 

He would be the only one that might recall her birthday, she figured, coming from her hire paperwork. Besides, they spent enough time together she may have accidentally let it slip out while talking. Mr. Azoff would definitely be the kind of boss that would do something like this for her. 

Instead of the humble way he swept away her gratitude she had been expecting, her boss let out a bubbling peal of laughter. Mrs. Azoff matched (Y/N)'s confused expression, knitted brows and all as they looked at him. 

"I didn't put this together," he clarified, shaking his head before spearing another bite of cake, "I've been so busy I can't even remember what year it is, let alone the day." 

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, face dropping. "Do you know who it was then? I just want to thank them properly." 

A shared look happened between the Azoffs, the missus' blonde brows raising in her husband's direction as if she was wondering the same thing. Mr. Azoff gave her a pointed look, flicking his gaze to (Y/N) for only a moment before he raised a brow. Realization seemed to spring across Mrs. Azoff's face, the kind (Y/N) was hoping she could share in. 

"Tell her," Mrs. Azoff mumbled, quiet enough (Y/N) knew she wasn't necessarily meant to hear the command. She watched as Mr. Azoff floundered, his lips pressing into a thin line with wide eyes as if he were pleading with her without words. "Jeffery, I think it would be nice for her to know. He's not going to mind." 

Her reasoning seemed to loosen him up some, only enough to have his gaze returning to (Y/N)'s with a small pivot. "Sorry," he told her, excusing the last few moments with a chaste smile on his lips, "Um—It was Harry. He was the one who remembered and put this all together." 

(Y/N) had to keep her jaw from dropping at the new information. Her fork was limp in her hand. "Really?" 

"Mhm," Mrs. Azoff chirped, "He was the one who came to us, telling us he had everything all planned out, we just needed to be here to surprise you. He did a good job, didn't he?" 

The picture of Mr. Styles standing so nonchalant in the corner of the room, singing quietly to the birthday song while she stood in front of the warm glow of the sparkling candles took on a new tint. This had been all of his idea, even the light pink and warm green frosting spelling out her name with petite flowers on the sheet cake had been his idea. The cake itself was even her favorite flavor, something she was doubting was a coincidence. 

"Really?" she asked, the question feeling dumb on her tongue but she couldn't help but ask. 

"It's all he's been talking about his last couple of days off. He wanted to make sure everyone knew and would be able to come celebrate with you." 

Mrs. Azoff's warm smile along with her boss's quiet curl to his lips was all the confirmation (Y/N) needed to know they were being completely serious. They were acting as if they were sharing a secret with her despite the room full of people that were in on it before she was. 

"Th-That's really nice of him," she settled on, unsure if there were any real words that could convey just how much the idea of Mr. Styles planning this little surprise made her heart ache. "I'm going to have to tell him thank you when he has a minute." 

"I think he'd really like that," Mr. Azoff told her, voice quiet as if he were sharing a tiny secret. 

With the way Mrs. Azoff looked at hm after he spoke, (Y/N) wondered if there really was another secret she wasn't privy to.

—————

Screaming cheers filled the SUV the second the door flung open, Mr. Styles piling inside with a towel hung over his shoulder and a bright smile gracing his features. His energy was vibrating off of him in waves, intoxicating the small space of the car as they pulled out of the venue as the curtains closed behind them. (Y/N) never really got to see him this closely after a show, tonight being an occasion that Mr. Azoff and she were to head back to the hotel with him right away in prep for the late night meetings needed before any of them were to be dismissed to bed (Mr. Styles' next album was coming up closer and closer, and labels needed answers if he wanted the vinyl pressings to be done in time). 

Tonight, (Y/N) was packed into the backseat of the SUV with Mr. Styles, feeling that bright energy he harnessed on stage settling in like another person sitting between them. He used the towel offered to him by security to wipe off his glistening face, sweat soaking the fabric though he didn't stop smiling. 

"Jeff, Jeff," Mr. Styles started, pulling on the neckline of his blueberry embellished top, drawing the fabric away from his skin, "Did you see that back there?" 

She watched as her boss let out a small laugh, turning around where he sat in the front passenger seat to face his client. "See what, H?" 

The smile that broke out on Mr. Styles' face somehow grew bigger. His breathing was still coming in pants, something (Y/N) wasn't sure was coming from his excitement or the lingering exertion from his stage time. "That girl, she was dressed like a clam and her head was the pearl! I think she had a sign too, but I couldn't see it because every time I looked, she was dancing and I couldn't stop laughing." 

"Oh, that's why you could barely finish singing Sushi?" Mr. Azoff pressed, matching Mr. Styles excitement with his own bubbling smile. A small glance was flicked in (Y/N)'s direction, as if she were telling her to get a load of this guy. 

"It was so funny, Jeffery," Mr. Styles insisted, the purple leather of his pants squeaking against the seats with the way he couldn't manage to sit still, "It was like there was a bobblehead out there, but with these little legs." Just when Mr. Azoff went to answer, Mr. Styles completely changed with his jaw dropping before he turned to (Y/N) with another layer of excitement brewing in the car. "Wait, (Y/N)! Did you see that girl dressed like a fairy? She was standing with the angel and the sushi roll!" 

(Y/N) tried to school her features, keep the surprise off her face at the fact Mr. Styles was acknowledging her—and with a smile too! Attempting to focus on the question at hand, she racked her brain for whoever it was that he was referencing. "Maybe. Were they standing in pit?" she asked, settling into the leather of her seat with Mr. Azoff watching on with a less than neutral expression giving away his own shock. 

"Yes, yes," Mr. Styles chattered off, "Towards the exit catwalk! She had on big sparkly wings, and everything!" 

"Oh, yeah," (Y/N) perked up, giving him a matching grin, "That was the same costume—" 

"—you wore for Halloween!" Mr. Styles cut her off to finish her own sentence, bouncing in his seat in time with the rhythm of the pavement underneath the wheels of the car. "That's why I noticed her! Y'had the same wings, and the dress, and everything, right?" 

This time (Y/N) wasn't as smooth to recover at his words. She had been the only one to dress as such for the holiday, and she hadn't thought Mr. Styles had seen her at all in his own rush to be dressed in his own costume and prepping the extra song he was to cover for the occasion. It could have only been twice where she thought he might have seen her, especially as more than a blur that had to run past while doing whatever errands Mr. Azoff needed. 

"Y-Yeah," she bubbled off, pretending she didn't stutter in hopes that no one else would notice, "that was my Halloween costume. I didn't realize you noticed." 

The curls that flopped over Mr. Styles' forehead added to the boyish sparkle in his eyes as he looked at her, dimples denting his cheeks. "Your's was m'favorite costume." 

It was only a second later that Mr. Styles was distracted once more in his adrenaline-fueled post-concert excitement, drawing Mr. Azoff into another bubbling conversation about a moment that happened on stage. (Y/N) was left to settle into her spot, seatbelt tight around her chest as her heart struggled to beat out of its cage. 

If he wasn't careful, (Y/N) was going to start thinking he didn't hate her. 

—————

(Y/N) sidestepped out of the doorway, allowing Mr. Styles to brush past her in his rush to exit the room she'd just entered. He didn't bother to even make eye contact with her or shoot her an awkward smile she'd become accustomed to. All she caught of him was his strained expression as she bounced into the room, feeling much more awake this morning after the bubbling excitement she felt while riding back to the hotel with Mr. Styles being so happy to talk with her. 

That excitement drained as soon as she saw the way he all but flinched at her presence now that the after show adrenaline had worn off. Mr. Azoff seemed just as surprised at the blatant switch as he watched Mr. Styles run off. 

"Uh—Good morning, Mr. Azoff," (Y/N) attempted to chirp out.

She could see the way he floundered for words, his eyes flicking between her and Mr. Styles' retreating figure she was forcing herself to keep from glancing at. "(Y/N), I—" 

"It's okay, it's okay," she waved him off, doing her best to convince herself with her own excuse, "He's probably still tired from last night, it's okay." 

The look on Mr. Azoff's face told her he knew something she didn't. (Y/N) figured it was a secret she didn't want to know. 

—————

This had to be the first time (Y/N) had ever seen Mr. Azoff so stressed, especially after setting out on this tour with his favorite client. His hair was a mess with the usual day's worth of stubble on his face now growing into almost a full beard with the way the last few days have come stumbling around him. Near constantly did he have a phone pressed to his ear, preferring to take all of these phone calls as opposed to allowing (Y/N) to take care of them like he had so far in this route. 

"We don't know if he's going to be able to make it on this Friday," she heard Mr. Azoff sigh into the receiver, dragging a heavy hand through his hair. Mrs. Azoff looked just as glum as she listened into the conversation from the small couch that was set up in the living space of their hotel room. "I know—we're trying. He's barely been able to get out of bed since he got off stage last night, we haven't started on the road at all." 

(Y/N) felt concern spike in her chest at the mention of Mr. Styles' state. She knew he wasn't doing so well after last night, especially with how hard he had to start straining himself towards the end of the show just to hit notes she knew would otherwise be easy for him. What she hadn't known was the fact he didn't have the strength to even get out of bed. She'd hate for him to have caught the same flu that one of the crew members had suffered through just a couple of weeks earlier. 

"We don't want to cancel or reschedule anything, yet, no," Mr. Azoff rushed out, sinking into the couch cushion beside his equally as exhausted wife, "We have a few days still, so we'll see if he feels any better by Thursday. If not, I'll call you with options." 

It was only moments later that Mr. Azoff hung up the call, looking just as exhausted as he started the call. Seeing as how it was Tuesday, and Mr. Styles had only a few days left to be feeling better in time to even travel for his next show, she could understand his stress. 

Before (Y/N) could even offer her services, Mr. Azoff said her name with a lingering exhaustion. "Could you call one of those liquid IV offices, please? And get his doctor on a call; if he needs antibiotics, I want them picked up by the end of the day." 

Very few times did Mr. Azoff feel like a boss, always talking to her in gentler tones with requests rather than demands. Not that he was flexing any superiority and unforgiving directions even now, but she knew this was something he needed done thirty minutes ago, but was still willing to accept it being done now. 

That was all she needed to hear before she had her phone pressed to her ear. Even if Mr. Styles didn't care for her as much as she may have thought a week ago, she wanted him better just as much as Mr. Azoff did, and not just because of the touring schedule. 

—————

How (Y/N) happened to be the only one within the central crew to have been vaccinated for the flu this season, she didn't know, but she didn't mind the added responsibility tied with the booster. Armed with a takeaway container of hot soup, a liter bottle of water, and another round of medication for Mr. Styles, Mr. Azoff sent her off to his hotel room. 

Mr. Styles had all but been quarantined since he started exhibiting those early flu symptoms, a medical team having been the ones tending to him the previous couple of days as he apparently worsened into running a fever and getting sick to his stomach. It was into the late hours of the evening that Mr. Azoff finally shooed them off (at his client's request, supposedly. Mr. Styles felt bad to have so many people fussing over him, he had said), and thanked them for everything they did for his client. They were left with the tools and a regiment on the best and fastest way to get Mr. Styles healthy again. She remembered watching Mr. Azoff read over the extensive list left in his care, a humorless laugh leaving his lips and he muttered something about the miracle of this week being one of the longer breaks he had scheduled between shows. 

As the crew couldn't afford anyone else getting as sick as Mr. Styles was, (Y/N) was chosen to be the first one to tend to him given the fact she would be the least likely to catch whatever virus he had—and even if she did, they could afford to have her on bed rest for a few days. Mr. Azoff had passed along the printed schedule of his medication times and what foods and fluids would be best to get his system back on track in the remaining forty-eight hours left until a decision would have to be made on whether or not the next show was in jeopardy, and she was on her way. 

An apology was ready on her tongue for the second she breached the sanctuary of his hotel room, knowing that she was most likely one of the last people he wanted to see at a time like this. That was the hardest part, she figured. She wasn't afraid of falling ill or seeing him sick, it was knowing just how unwelcome she was going to be in his space, especially since he wouldn't be able to flitter away from her like she knew he was used to. But, that fear was going to have to be shoved into a box in the back of her mind. Mr. Styles wasn't feeling well and needed someone to help him, and that was what she was going to focus on. 

After a quiet rap of her knuckles against his hotel room door went expectedly unanswered, (Y/N) pulled for the keycard Mr. Azoff had slipped into the bag of essentials he'd passed off to her. As soon as the handle clicked with a green light blinking, she twisted the knob carefully. A quiet creak whined from the hinges as she entered the dark room. 

Mr. Styles' messy bed was empty, the only light coming from the dimly set bedside lamp revealing the creases and folds in the bedding she was sure housekeeping hadn't had a chance to come by and change since he'd been holed up in the space. His luggage was left neatly beside the closet, only a pair of brightly colored socks laid atop the case letting her know it had been touched in the last few days. If not for the fact she knew there was no where else for him to have gone without someone on his team being notified, (Y/N) would have assumed his hotel room to be deserted by the way the air felt stale as she stepped in. 

"Mr. Styles? It's (Y/N). I know you probably don't wan—" 

Before she could finish her apology for stepping into his space, a gagging noise from the bathroom gave away his position. That was when she noticed the sliver of light leaking from underneath the closed door. 

Rolling her lips between her teeth with concern knitting her brows together, (Y/N) abandoned her doctor assembled and boss ordered care package on the bedside table. It was with shaking hands that she gently knocked on the bathroom door. 

A groan answered a beat later. "Jeff, I promise 'm going to be alright in a couple of days," Mr. Styles grumbled out, voice deep and sour, "Don't cancel anything, please." 

Releasing the hold her teeth had on her bottom lip, (Y/N) sucked in a deep breath. "Actually, it's (Y/N)." 

"W-What are y'doing here?" was his stuttered response, raw voice leveling out in volume. 

Not quite as biting as she may have expected in a moment like this, but (Y/N) had figured he would ask something of this type. "I'm the only one that's had my flu shot, so Mr. Azoff wanted me to come check on you. Is it alright if I come in?" 

"Please, don't." That was the clipped response she had been anticipating, but (Y/N) thought his tone dipped into something more embarrassed than angry. 

"Mr. Styles, I have water and food, and the medication you'r—" 

Before she could get much further with her explanation, she was cut off by the sound of a guttural noise on the other side of the door. Mr. Styles gagged alone in the bathroom, his panting breaths being cut off only to be replaced with the sound of him getting sick. 

As much as (Y/N) wanted to respect his privacy and foster a kinder relationship between the pair of them, there was no way she was going to be able to sit idly by knowing that she could help him when he so clearly needed some support. That was all it took for her to barge into the bathroom, rushing over the tiles to where Mr. Styles was hunched over the toilet. 

Focusing herself on him and not what was currently leaving his system, (Y/N) stroked her hand down his back while the other worked on drawing his hair out of his face. A stray clip was fit against the top of his head, a sloppy attempt she was sure he had executed with shaking hands. 

"(Y/N), no," he stuttered over her name until she felt a shudder rack his spine, his head being sent back to the toilet bowl as another round of sickness left his body. 

She didn't say anything back, knowing not only would it fall on deaf ears, but this wasn't the time to start pleading with him to let her stay. That wasn't up for debate as far as she was concerned; whether he liked it or not, she wasn't going to leave him to be sick all by himself in a hotel room in a country he didn't call home. Nothing sounded more dreadful than that. 

Instead, she only shushed him and lead a soothing hand down his spine with her other hand fixing his hair from his face. The strands had lost their curl after a few days without wash, matching the stale texture of his clothes that she was sure he hadn't changed out of in just as long. Having heard about how heavily he prioritized his self-care, especially when touring, she knew he really must feel terrible if he couldn't bring himself to do any of those basic things. 

Nonetheless, she stayed a constant, steady presence beside him on the bathroom floor. She tucked baby curls behind his ears, the strands too short to reach clip on the top of his head, and she shushed him with a gentle hand on his back as he emptied his system before being reduced down to dry heaves and gags resulting in nothing more than stolen breath and teary eyes. 

"It's okay, Mr. Styles, just breathe," she reminded him as he reached to flush the toilet, his breathing coming in rapid pants through his raw throat. 

"Don't call me that," he panted, sitting back on his heels though he still didn't care to turn to face her, "I don't like it when y'call me that." 

"Okay, okay," she soothed, the same word having fallen from her lips at least a hundred times at this point, "What do you want me to call you? What do you like better?"

"Jus' H, please. Want y'to talk to me like y'know me." 

Her heart just about broke at how pathetic he sounded in that moment, his request just short of a whine given his burned throat. "Okay, I can do that," she agreed with a gentle pat to his back. "I'm going to be right back, alright? I brought you some water for you to sip on." 

Before (Y/N) could even get to her feet, Mr. S—Harry—H twisted in his spot and raced to wrap his fingers around her wrists. He kept her from going any further with his manacle-like grip, bloodshot eyes glossy in the low light of the bathroom. "Wait, please. I-I don't want to be alone if I get sick again." 

As much as she knew it was against her better judgment to leave the liter of water out in the bedroom, there was no way she could argue against him when he looked at her like that. And, for the first time ever, he was pleading with her to stay with him, not fighting for a way out of her presence. How could she say no to that?

"Okay, I'll stay a few minutes longer, but I need to have you drinking something soon," she reasoned, settling back down onto the tile floor. She crossed her legs underneath her, opting for something more comfortable than the cuffs of her knees digging into the hard floor as she was prepared to sit there for as long as Harry needed her (or until she could convince him of the importance of water right now). 

Harry all but deflated with relief at her words, slumping into her arms in a way that had (Y/N) doubting he knew he was doing. Another sign of just how bad he was feeling then—he'd never seek comfort in her like this otherwise. Nonetheless, (Y/N) wrapped her arms around him without question, cushioning her back against the wall of the bathroom behind her while Harry's clumsy limbs found purchase around her. He shuffled up beside her with legs folded underneath him, his bottom on his heels. He was close enough to the toilet incase of an emergency, but his knees still knocked into hers with his arms around her waist, face tucking into the curve of her throat. 

"Thank you," he murmured into her neck once he burrowed himself against her skin, his forehead clammy. 

"Of course," she told him, her arms around his middle with her palms spanning the planes of his back. "Has it been like this all day?" 

"Mhm," he practically whined, his nose scrunching against her skin, "I hate it. I hate being sick. I jus' want to be better already." 

(Y/N) held him tighter the second she felt wetness slide over her skin, moreso than the sheen of sweat that covered his forehead. He was crying. That gloss that had lacquered his gaze had overflown, now leaking over her skin and pooling in the line of her collarbones. "I know, H, I know," she crooned to him, forcing herself to stay composed despite how much her heart ached for him then, "I brought stuff for you that's supposed to help you feel better. Do you want to try taking some medicine or drinking some water?" 

"I don't think I can keep it down," he told her, voice watery as he spoke, "'M sorry." 

"No, don't be sorry, okay?" she gently scolded him, shaking her head as she brought her hand up to card through the length of the curls on the back of his head. 

"I jus' want to be better, (Y/N)," he repeated earnestly, a sniffle following right after to match the wiggle of his nose she felt against her skin. She wanted to be endeared at the small touch but that was quickly outweighed by the concern she felt the second another wave of tears washed over her skin, Harry's breathing shifting until she feared he would start sobbing. 

"And you will be," she promised, hugging him tighter with her fingers lacing through his hair, "You need to give yourself a little more time, okay? Sleep a little more, and once you're up to it, we'll have you eating and drinking again and you'll be feeling so much better. I promise." 

"But—"

Harry tensed in her arms before could finish his thought. A scramble of limbs ensued then, leaving (Y/N) feeling the absence of his warmth while he hunched over the toilet and threw up the nonexistent contents of his stomach. (Y/N) was behind him in a rush, rubbing his back and cooing to him as he began to dry heave, only bile leaving his system now. 

It was (Y/N) this time that flushed the toilet down for him after a few minutes of nothing else triggering his gag reflex, proceeding to gather him back into her arms once he was settled enough to unlock his joints and allow his muscles to go malleable again. 

"It's alright, H—" 

"See?" he cut her off, voice particularly raw after his latest showing, "'M not getting better, (Y/N). I jus' want to be better and-and play a show and I do-don't want to let anyone down." 

"You're not letting anyone down," she cemented, relaxing into the stiff sidewall of the tub as he tucked himself into her warmth one more time with his face in her neck.

"I've heard Jeff talking about cancelling or rescheduling shows," he mumbled, a sniffle following after, "I don't want to do that. S-So many people travel jus' to see me, and 's be-been so long an—" 

Harry was cut off by his own crying, the stress of the situation along with the just how awful he felt in that moment catching up to him now that someone was there to listen. His grip on her tightened with his arms around her waist and his face buried in her neck, his chest stuttering with his uneven breaths and squeezes of his sobbing lungs. 

All she could do then was hold him against her, as if her hug could keep him from shaking so hard with his heady breaths. Her neck was slick with his tears, the tip of his nose wiggling with every sniffle he sucked in in hopes of regulating his breathing.

"Its okay, H, really," she cooed to him, drawing one of her hands up to the back of his head with her fingertips twirling through the curls, "You need to stop crying, okay? You're only making yourself more sick by crying, you know. Just breathe, alright? It's going to be okay, I promise." 

Though it took him a moment, she could feel the way he tried to heed her advice. He fought off the stutter of his sobs, his breathing coming out in shaky pulls with the exhales being long and drawn out over her skin. Her palms soothed down his spine, the length of her nails dragging over his shirt in what she hoped was calming runs. 

"Feel a little better now?" she asked once he curated a rhythm of deep breaths and sinking exhales. Though she could feel just the smallest remnants of his tears having seeped against her neck, she didn't feel that dampness growing as opposed to the way it was only a few moments earlier. 

"Y-yeah," he mumbled, nodding his head against her neck, "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, okay?" she told him, parroting her earlier words, "There's nothing to be sorry for. No one likes being sick, and I know you're under a lot of pressure since we're also on the road. It's okay." 

A nasally little thank you sounded against her neck along with the brush of his lips being felt against her throat. A small smile touched at the corners of her lips as she felt him relax into her, exhaustion weighing him down now that he wasn't clinging to the edge of the toilet. (Y/N) tentatively laid her cheek on the top of his head, lending him more of her warmth in hopes of holding off another wave of his fever. 

Just when she figured he'd fallen asleep, his breathing even with puffs of air fanning over her skin, he pulled his face from her neck. Harry's cheeks were flushed as he looked to her, ruddy and glistening with a sheen of sweat. His eyes were puffy and red, the scleras bloodshot from his crying session. Even his lips were swollen, the same hue as his red-tipped nose. 

"Can I have some water?" he asked her pathetically, voice nasally given his clogged sinuses, "And a blanket. 'M really cold." 

(Y/N) nodded her head right away, feeling her eyes rounding out as she took him in with pity in her gaze. "I'll be right back, okay?" she told him, brushing stray curls behind his ears. 

Harry gave her another sad look, mimicking the nod of her head. "Thank you," he told her before tucking his swollen bottom lip between his teeth. 

She made quick work of collecting the liter of water she'd put off to the side along with the knitted blanket that was bundled over the hotel bed. She knew that was something he'd brought from home, an item she'd seem him cart around to every venue and every hotel room to help him feel more at home despite the miles between. Hopefully it would be just what he needed in that moment. 

Stepping into the bathroom, Harry was just where she had left him. He was bundled beside the bathtub, his legs now bent in front of him to make himself into a small ball with his arms around his shins. His glossy eyes seemed to widen at the sight of his blanket, completely glancing over the water in her opposing hand in favor of reaching for his token from home. 

"Thank you so much," he repeated, grabby hands taking the knitted blanket as soon as she offered it to him.

Despite his aching limbs, the blanket was wrapped around Harry's shoulders in quick succession, the fabric being pulled up to his face with a finger wrapped in the material from underneath absently rubbing against his cheek. He soothed himself enough to have his eyes flutter to a close as (Y/N) settled in beside him, taking her spot against the bathtub wall with her legs criss-crossed underneath her bottom. 

"Still want some water?" she asked in a crooned tone, hoping to keep from disturbing him too much from the sweetened state he was falling into.

"Yes, please," he murmured, eyes still closed. 

Twisting off the cap of his water, (Y/N) offered it to him with a nudge against his shoulder. Harry begrudgingly untangled his hand from the knit of his blanket, taking the bottle with his eyes opened to only a slit. 

"Only take sips, H," she told him as he raised the bottle to his lips, "Any more and it might make you sick again." 

"But 'm so thirsty," he whined, brows pinching together in the middle. 

"I know, but if you drink too fast it'll make you sick again," she reasoned with him, scooting in closer to him with her arm pressing against his own, "Just sip it for now and if you can keep it all down tonight, you can drink all the water you want." 

Heaving a sigh, he gave a nod of his head as he heeded her advice and took small sips from his bottle. (Y/N) kept an eye on him as he drank, watching for any turn of the tide that would garner her helping him back to the toilet bowl. By the time he finally seemed satiated, handing her the bottle in search of the cap to be fixed back on top, he sunk down and lent his cheek against her shoulder. His eyes were shuttered closed once more, his hand working its way back under the knit of his blanket to press the material against his cheek again. 

"Tired?" (Y/N) murmured, maneuvering to wrap her arm around his shoulders and cuddle him close. 

"Yeah," he said, voice cracking some under the pressure of his raw throat. 

"Here," she said, shuffling in her spot to move just far enough away from him to get a whine filtering through his throat. Uncrossing her legs, she unfurled them in front of her with her ankles folding over one another, "Lay down, H, its okay. You can put your head in my lap." 

He seemed calmed at the prospect of her only moving so he could more comfortably. With his legs curled against his tummy into a ball, Harry laid his head in her lap, her plush thighs acting as his pillow. "Thank you," he sighed, nasally voice quietly bouncing off the tiles. 

"When you wake up we'll take some medicine, okay?" she told him, placing her hands in his hair as she unclipped the sprout she'd made with the strands to card through his curls. 

All she earned in response was a quiet okay, leaving him to fall asleep only moments later. 

Sinking against the sidewall of the bathtub, (Y/N) let her own eyes close. Cuddling with Mr. Styles was definitely not how she saw this morning going. She was going to have to text Mr. Azoff to let him know not to expect her for the rest of the day. 

—————

"(Y/N)?" 

Humming to acknowledge the call of her name, (Y/N) continued to clean up the little medication station she made up on his bedside table now that each of the pills were in his system. She was going to have to call up for another large water bottle for him now that there was less than a fourth of the liter left. And, probably another serving of hot soup since that had been forgotten hours earlier, going cold. 

"'M sorry," Harry said behind her, the warmth of his glossy gaze being pinned on her back. 

"You don't need to be sorry, remember?" she said to him, constituting all of his orange and white bottles back into the small pack the medical team had prepared as she gave him a small glance over her shoulder. "No one is upset with you; it's not your fault you're sick, we all know that." 

"No," he croaked, shaking his head against the fluffed pillow, "That's not what 'm talking about." 

"Oh?" she asked, settling into the nest of bedding she'd made her own since they carted him back to bed after his nap. He hadn't been sick for hours at this point, the main concern shifting to fend off the fever that was sapping his energy and drawing a fog over his brain. 

As soon as he saw her close once more, Harry made a move to lay his head in her lap again. It was instinctive at this point to have her hands carding through his hair, pulling the strands from his flushed skin. This time though, Harry looked up at her with his slightly hooded gaze, a touch unfocused despite the fact he'd been awake for the better part of the last hour. 

"'M sorry 'm so mean to you," he breathed, a sheen collecting over his eyes as he took her in, "You're taking care of me, and I don't deserve it." 

(Y/N) felt like a deer in headlights with his tired gaze on her. This was definitely not how she ever saw this conversation going—if this conversation ever happened, anyway. She floundered for words as she shook her head, distracting him with a particularly drawn out run of her fingers through his curls. 

"Don't say that, okay? What you don't deserve, is staying alone in a hotel room while you're sick," she murmured, "But, you don't need to worry about that right now, okay? You don't need to apologize for anything." 

To be fair, she never really considered his behavior mean. He avoided her, sure, but he was never blatantly rude to her. 

"No, no," he shook his head in her lap, "'M so mean to you 's not fair. I-I barely even talk to you, and you're still taking care of me. 'M sorry, (Y/N)." 

"Harry, really, I don't think you're mean, ok—" 

"I jus' don't know how to talk to you, (Y/N)," he continued as if he hadn't heard a single word she said, "'S so hard to talk to you, and-and m'brain hurts when I try to think about it." 

Canting her head as she gazed down at him, she dropped one of her hands from his hair only to skate over the planes of his face. She traced over the height of his cheekbone, and brushed the length of his lashes before she grazed the bridge of his nose. "It's okay, Harry," she soothed him, watching as his eyes fell closed, "It's okay to be shy. I know Mr. Azoff's last assistant was really close to you, it's fine if we're not there yet. We'll get there someday, right?"

"No," he whined, drawing out the syllable as he peeked his eyes open, "'S not like that—not like with Mallory, (Y/N). I like y'so much that m'brain doesn't work around you. It wasn't like that at all with Mallory—I didn't have a crush on her." 

(Y/N) was thankful for the cover of his illness to keep him from fully noticing her reaction to his confession. While it was sweet the way he described his feelings—a crush, he'd said—that had to have been at the very bottom of the list of reasons she would have thought up as to why he behaved the way he did around her. What was she supposed to say to something like that? How was she supposed to take it given the fact that this could be nothing more than one of his delirious ramblings given the state of his fever? 

"I can't believe 'm telling you like this," he muttered, eyes fluttered closed in a tight pinch as he turned in her lap. He faced the soft of her tummy, his arms wrapping around her middle as he nosed at the fabric of her top. "I smell like vomit and I haven't washed m'hair for four days, 'm sorry." 

A quiet sigh left her lips as she carded her fingers through his hair, the unwashed curls slipping between her fingers. "It's okay, Harry. Don't worry about any of that right now, okay? We can talk about that later, but you need to focus on getting better right?" 

"Right," he peeped, voice slowing and dredging deeper into sleep, "And you'll stay with me?"

Her answer was automatic, "Of course. I'll be here to take care of you, I promise." 

It was only moments later he was asleep again, face tucked against her tummy while (Y/N) was wide awake. 

—————

(YN) woke with a stiff neck to the sound of the shower running, still wrapped up in Harry's bedding though now she had his knitted blanket draped over her form. The side of the bed she had slipped him into once she was too tired to stay awake was now cold, only the impression of his body on the sheets giving away his presence. 

Blinking her dry eyes, she tried to get her bearings after the long night she'd had tending to her boss's favorite client, along with every rambling confession he woke up in the middle of the night to share. 

He apparently thought her hair was very pretty, wanted to share clothes with her, and thought she had a cute laugh. Though, those were only the confessions she could decipher in his sleepy, nasally voice. 

She was still clothed in the outfit she'd donned the morning before, her phone waiting with a handful of texts from Mr. Azoff asking about Mr. Styles' state and if there was anything the pair of them needed now that (Y/N) had taken on the role of nursing him back to health for the time being. She pushed those messages off to the side at the moment, instead trying to untwirl her brain now that she had a moment alone without Mr. Styles' health at the front of her mind. 

He liked her, he'd said—he had a crush on her even. That was why he didn't have it in himself to hold a conversation with her, too shy to speak to her without making an ass of himself. The thought made her heart flutter, a fact she couldn't deny especially after she realized the smile on her face when she recalled his exact words. 

Despite the fact his kindness didn't always extend to her in the obvious ways, thinking back, she realized the signs were there. He remembered her birthday and put together an impromptu party that he couldn't even properly attend. He remembered her Halloween costume even though he was running around all day, preparing for one of the biggest shows of the year. He paid attention to her; he listened for her favorite foods, favorite colors, favorite books. While he was too shy to talk to her about those things directly, he still went out of his way to find them out and keep them to himself. 

It was easier for her since she knew she got this job to send her own feelings packing, out of her head and her heart before she could find herself in trouble with an infatuation with her boss's favorite client and best friend. That fact grew even more important as soon as Harry started behaving the way he did around her, but now that she had that glimmering confession, the tender explanation, it was hard to keep those feelings from marching right back in. All those months that she had to school herself into knocking away the melancholy at the fact that one of her inspirations didn't seem to like her now were turned in a new light, trying to see those same moments from Harry's point of view. 

How many times had she thought she felt his eyes on her, only to turn and find him looking the other direction? Had she really been only a second too late to catch his gaze? Every time she had chattered away with a member of the crew or Mr. Azoff himself, with Harry scrolling through his phone distractedly had he really been listening in and collecting information he was too scared to ask for? Or even the times he had dropped his gaze when she met his, the blushing hue to his skin now could be out of sheepish affection and not the need to get away from her as soon as possible. 

She hadn't been invisible to him, or even a negative presence in his day-to-day, she was piecing together. He thought of her the same way she thought of him. What a heart-stopping thought. 

"Morning." 

(Y/N) jumped in her spot, the bedsheets rustling around her denim-clad legs at the sound of Harry's rumbling voice. Dropping back into the moment, she saw him standing just outside the bathroom door, luggage at his feet as he packed away the clothing he would need sent off to be washed before they were on their way to the next destination. A quiet smile was on his lips, a shy shifting to his gaze that kept him from meeting hers. His socked feet dug into the plush carpet on the floor, legs folded over in a pair of heavy black sweats along with a crewneck from his brand that hadn't been released to the public just yet. His hair was damp and dark, finally washed after the few days she was sure it had been bothering him.

"Morning," she chirped back, finding her voice, "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he mused, running a hand through his damp hair, "Finally getting to actually sleep last night helped a lot, I think. I took the medicine y'left on the table, and took a shower and I'm really feeling a lot better."

"Good, that makes me happy. Now, you can sleep all day and actually eat something instead of laying on the bathroom floor." (Y/N) felt proud of herself when she caught sight of the dimples denting his cheeks as he huffed out a quiet laugh.

A beat of silence passed between them as Harry finally dropped the guise of rifling through his bag to face her. Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweats, he toed at the ground as he looked at her through the fan of his lashes. 

"Um, thanks for taking care of me and everything yesterday, (Y/N)," he drawled, a pinch touching between his brows, "I really, really appreciate it. 'M sure it wasn't easy. My mum says I always get whiny when 'm sick, so..." 

"You weren't that bad," she told him with a gentle smile, crossing her legs underneath herself from where she sat on the bed, "I used to babysit when I was in college, and you are definitely not as bad as some of the kids I used to help."

"Great," he laughed with a playful roll of his eyes, "'m not as bad as a child. I'll have to tell my mum, that'll show her." 

After the short peals of laughter died down, silence filled in for their voices. Was she supposed to say something? Did he want her to say something? Or was what was said last night meant to stay right there—in the evening hours, in the brain fog that came along with his fever?

"Listen," he said, swallowing hard as he finally met her gaze head on, "'M really sorry about yesterday. I know I said a lot of things, and 'm really sorry if I made y'uncomfortable or anything. I-I don't know why I said any of that, honestly." 

Fighting the urge to drop her own gaze as she'd seen him do so many times before, (Y/N) kept herself focused on him, following the small droplets of water that clung to his forehead from his damp curls. "You didn't make me uncomfortable," she said, "But—um—di-did you mean it? What you said? About being shy and everything because of... me?"

Another harsh swallow had his throat bobbing, the green of his eyes disappearing for just a moment as he blinked towards the ceiling before returning. "I mean, yeah. I did mean it. I never wanted to tell y'like that, though, that's for sure. I know y'were being nice, but I definitely did smell like vomit and you're a saint for sitting there and letting me talk like a crazy person all night. I don't even know how you found time to sleep with me constantly bothering you."

"You weren't bothering me," she said, a smile cracking her features now that she realized there was no catch to his confession. There was no reason to quash the happiness filling her chest. "I thought it was really sweet what you were saying to me. It was nice to hear all of that stuff, especially since I was pretty sure you didn't like me just two days ago."

He clenched his eyes shut at her finishing words. "I really am sorry about that, I hope you know," he said with a heady sigh, "I wish I had a better explanation, but really, you jus' make me nervous." 

"It's okay," she waved off, shuffling towards the edge of the bed closest to him without much thought, "You make me nervous, too—I get it." 

"I do?" he asked, a boyish smile touching at his features while his eyes seemingly sparkled in the low light. 

"I mean, yeah," she revealed, a duh tone to her words, "Why do you think it's always so hard for me to talk to you?" 

Harry took slow steps towards the edge of the bed, his socked feet dragging through the plush carpet. "But you're always so—," he trailed off, flicking his hands out in front of him with a flourish, "Everywhere, I guess. Talking to everyone and laughing. I don't think I've ever seen y'nervous." 

"Well, I don't like everyone else the way I like you, so I don't get nervous like that. It's harder to talk to you when all I want is to say the right thing." 

Before she even realized it, Harry was stood right in front of where she was sat on the edge of the bed. He towered over her with warmth radiating from his chest, the heat much more pleasant than the fever he was running the night before, especially when he looked at her so sweetly with his big eyes. It was in slow movements that he brought his hands out and settled them on her wrists, only to trail down to lace his fingers between hers. When she didn't pull away or make any sound of protest, she felt him squeeze her hands. 

"I like hearing y'talk. Y'have a pretty voice," he murmured, his voice just a touch deeper than normal given the last week of his life. 

"I like your voice too," she beamed up at him, "Why do you think I'm always out there during the shows?" 

"Because, Jeff makes you?" he teased, shyly dropping her gaze to where their hands were bundled between them. 

(Y/N) shook her head, adjusting her position on the bed to sit with her bottom on her heels and her legs folded underneath her. "I like listening to you sing and talk to everyone. You're amazing on stage. It's my favorite part of being on the road with everyone—getting to see you every night like that." 

He keened under her praise, canting his head as he squeezed her hands. Dimples dented his cheeks as he looked to her. "Thank you," he murmured, the blunt ends of his front teeth sinking into his bottom lip once he got his gratitude out. 

Looking at him like this, feeling the strength of his hands and the heat of his skin all the while he looked at her so tenderly had (Y/N)'s heart racing. How was this real?" 

"Harry?" 

"Hm?" 

Dropping her eyes to his lips, the raspberry color just a bit drained from his illness though he wasn't any less appealing. She spoke without thought as her stayed stuck on his mouth, "Can I kiss you?" 

She watched as a smile grew on his lips at her words. "I—uh—'M sick, remember?" he protested less than half-heartedly. 

"I got my flu shot, remember?" 

That was all the convincing it took to have Harry dropping her hands from his, only to then cradle the soft of her cheeks in his hands. His lips slotted against hers in a tender press, allowing her to taste the clean mint of his toothpaste and whatever scented chapstick he'd swiped over his pout. She didn't even have time to think about the fact she was still wearing her clothes from the day before with unbrushed hair and unwashed skin, not with the way he was holding her and pressing into her mouth for more. It was as unhurried of a kiss as it was wanting, making up for the lost time that had been wasted over the past few months. 

The contact remained innocent, only sweet presses of their lips growing more and more delicate until Harry pulled away just to press a smattering of kisses against her pout. His actions drew a laugh from her chest, her hands reaching for his shirt as he kissed her smiling mouth. 

"We don't have to leave for the venue until tonight, right?" he asked, slightly breathless though he matched her smile tenfold. (Y/N) nodded her head still in his delicate grip, the pad of his thumb sweeping under her eye. "We should probably leave for a little and let housekeeping clean up a little, but 'm still really tired," his gaze flickered over hers, his smile growing that much more at whatever he found in there, "Could we go back to your room? We don't have to do anything"—that had his cheeks blushing—", but I don't want to sleep alone again after this."

That was all (Y/N) needed before she was dragging him down the hall to her hotel room, following right after him into her unused, plush bed. It was instinct at this point the way he cuddled up to her, face in her neck with his nose pressed to her pulse. All she felt was a press of his lips to the curve of her throat before he was asleep again, leaving (Y/N) the time to send Mr. Azoff a message. 

Harry was fine, she told him, but he'd probably need another day of rest and looking after. A job she was more than willing to continue to take on. She'd tell him the full story later, she decided, especially after he saw the room service charges for double meals to her room.

—————

I got a request for something like this a super long time ago so thank you to whoever requested for being so patient! thank you so much for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if anyone has any ideas or requests of your own pls pls send them in !

[finelinevogue]

LOVE ON TOUR: THE DOCUMENTARY

The preview - this would be played on like the Graham Norton show as a sneak peek into what’s in-store for the documentary

The introduction plays and then the screen turns black, slowly transitioning to a screen of Harry walking on set to sit on a directors chair.

He was dressed in black flared trousers and a pink top that said; “I love my girlfriend and I bought this t-shirt to show it.” His hair was styled his favourite way, by you, and he sat himself on the chair with a small smile.

Harry: We ready?

Interviewer: How are you feeling today?

Little did people know that you were the interviewer behind the camera. You had come to Harry with the idea of a documentary for months now and only now were you getting to film it. Since it was your idea, Harry had let you take the creative director position.

Harry: I’m good, yeah. Feeling good.

Interview: Can you explain what we’re doing here today?

Harry: We are filming a documentary, ‘cause my wife thinks that people enjoy listening to my voice and looking at my face.

Interview: Is that the only reason you’re doing this?

Harry: Yeah.

Everyone on set had been laughing after that, the directors keeping it in because it was known the fans loved the candid sides of Harry’s life more than anything.

Next came Anne, walking in on set in a beautiful white dress. She sat down comfortably on the directors chair and smiled towards you, ready to answer all questions.

Interviewer: How are you feeling today?

Anne: Very happy. I was a bit tearful before, but I don’t want to ruin the makeup that I sat for 3 hours for.

Interviewer: Did you ever think that this would happen?

Anne: This documentary?

Interviewer: Yes.

Anne: Well, when I watch him on stage I do believe he is a natural born performer. The talent H has doesn’t come from years of practice. That’s just H, being H. So to answer your question, yes I do see this documentary as something he would be doing.

The screen then cut to you standing next to the directors chair and Harry stood in front of you.

Y/N: Does my mascara still look okay?

Harry: Yeah, baby. Y’look beautiful.

Y/N: Cried too many times today. Who’s stupid idea was this?!

Harry: It’s only cause you love me.

Y/N: And I’m proud of you.

Harry: Ready for your interview?

Y/N: Ready to cry, yes.

[stylessbean]

Harry Styles Fic Recs: One Shots

------------ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍓🍒🍄 ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ------------

Last Updated: 8/02/2024

Friends to Lovers:

Best Friends My Ass by @theonewiththefanfics

the edge of all we've ever known by @stylesharrys

overprotective by @satanhalsey

The one where Y/N is terribly oblivious and Harry is in love with his best friend - H.S by (unknown)

Famous! Reader:

POUR IT OUT by @watchmegetobsessed

Never Have I Ever by @watchmegetobsessed

goodbye by @peleksstuff

this blurb by @anettesblogs

late late show by @let-me-write-shit

celebrity crush by @inkslingerharry

a talk show and a surprise by @gucciwins

the instagram poll by @ifancyharry

Assistant! Reader:

Tomato - Tomato by @theonewiththefanfics

in which you’re harry’s assistant and harry needs to open his eyes by @havethetimeofyourstyles

shy by @moonchildstyles

ever since new york by @ifancyharry

two for the show by @nationalharryleague

Fluff:

sweet nothings by @pancakes4two

Update (2 parts) by @watchmegetobsessed

love her stupid by @finelinevogue

love me like you do by @stylesharrys

vogue beauty secrets by @avatar-anna

Wishing you were here tonight is like holding on. (CEO!H)** by @guardarecheluna

look into his angel eyes by @thestoryofusstan

Angst:

can't be with you anymore by @lovebittenbyevans

Smut: (click here for my smut masterlist)

trust by @daisyblog

BMWB by @cinemastyles-backup

[helladirections]

June Fic List

Everyone seemed to enjoy this in May, so I figured I'd give it another go. Remember that reblogging is how writers get readers

Below are all the fics I reblogged for the month of June. They aren't necessarily written in June, and are listed in the order I read them.

I read whatever comes across my dash and looks good. I like to add to my reading list, and then reblog only after reading, I like it, and only if there is a Read More link. (And it's always helpful to put a word count on your fics)

Also my regular tag for fics is /rec and my own masterlist

Likes To Watch 4k @didhewinkback

Make Her Regret It 4.1k @watchmegetobsessed

To New Beginnings 1k Hot Stuff 1k @finelinevogue

Harry's Got A Crush On A Pretty Bartender (Blurb) 600 @stylesharrys

Lapse 2.5k @1d1195

When In Italy 2.3k @harrysfolklore

Knots / Shibari Man 2.4k Trivia!Harry and Inspections Drabble @1800titz

Drive Me Wild (series) Part 1 9.8k Part 2 9.5k Part 3 7.8k I've Got You 10.7k @finelinenina

BF!Harry gets hard in public Blurb Nerdrry Overstimulation Blurb Size Kink Blurb The Favor Masterlist Part 8 7.8k @jarofstyles

How's Your Head? 3.8k I Wanna Kiss Your Neck 4k (part 2) Part 3 5k+ You're Too Sweet For Me Part 1 700 Part 2 4k Ex Marks The Spot 5k I Don't Want Anyone Else Blurb You Want Me, Don't You? Blurb @babyyhoneyyy

Insecure Reader Because Fine Line is About Camille Blurb It's Hot As Shit Blurb @avatar-anna

Harry Is Obsessed With Y/N/s Clit Blurb @pleasingforharry

Pretty Like Yours 7.5k @fkinavocado

Academic Rivals A/O/B Part 1 22k+ Part 2 20k+ @jawllines

One Day 5.4k an extra for 404 Jack Shit 1.6k @freedomfireflies

You're So Golden 1.5k @midnightloversmusic

The Silent Type 5k @purplecoffee13

Fixating 2.2k @harryhitties

Blindfolded 10k Tension 6k @heartateasee

The Trio 3k @gurugirl

All or Nothing 2.5k @justmystyles

A Wet Dream, Just Dangling 1.8k @swiftmendeshoran

[finelinevogue]

they were so in love my god. i’m so beyond jealous of these two very fictional characters… i want to be them… they’re so hot and flirtatious and in love with each other - it’s so infectious and heartwarming to watch and imagine them <33 thank you for writing this xxx

the silk shirt

summary: it's the brits award 2023 and not only is harry's silk shirt your downfall, so is his drunken state.

warnings: fluff!

pairings: husband!harry x reader

—

“No fucking way,” you sit up when Harry comes out of the changing room. He’s Sexily dressed up in a great in a black suit, but that isn’t what takes up your attention. It’s the silver silk shirt he adorns, unbuttoned enough that you could get a peek of his butterfly tattoo. 

“What?” He looks down at his outfit, “You don’t like it?” He smirks, fixing the placement of his necklace as he walks towards you. 

“I did not say that, don’t be so vain.” You roll your eyes. And when he stands before you, you can’t help but let a hand fall to his bare chest. “You look very handsome.” 

“And you look striking, my love. Very, very beautiful,” he continues on, pecking your lips. “I knew you'd like the shirt.” He teases in between, gently biting your bottom lip. 

Tonight was the Brits! Harry had already walked the carpet in his first outfit and you had opted out, not in the mood to be shouted at from all angles. He also already performed in his second outfit, belting “As It Was” like the star he was. Now, he was in his third outfit of the night.

You throw an arm over his neck, pulling him even closer to you and his fall to your hips in balance. That’s until you pull away, only a breath apart. “You ready to sweep tonight?” 

“Love.” He shys away, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“What? You deserve it.” You tell him softly, running your thumb over his cheek. 

“I know, I know. Just— yea.” 

“I understand,” you chuckle. 

There’s a little pause, just for a second. “How much time do you think we have left?”

“I’ve got you, hm?” There’s that smug look on his face again. 

“Mhm.” 

And you think you’ve got him when he leans down to kiss you again. His soft lips over yours, before he moves to pepper kisses to your cheek and down your neck. You let out a sigh when he tenderly kisses the spot right under the hook of your jaw. And you restrain yourself from running your hands through his hair. His hands slither down to knead your ass. You can feel the pressure of his fingers and the band of his rings. 

“H..” 

You just want to be here with him, as he presses his hips into yours. 

He pulls away, “Not enough time, love.” He breathes out, still peppering kisses on your now swollen lips. 

“Please?” 

You palm him roughly, just like he likes it. 

Harry looks down, eyes blown wide. “Love,” he groans. He’s married the proper definition of trouble, and he knows it. But he lets himself lack for a few more seconds before he’s tugging your hand away and kissing the palm of your hand. 

“I'll give you some proper loving after, I promise.” 

You sigh, “You’ve got me riled up now, you oaf.”

He chuckles at your dismay, “You think I wanna go out like this,” addressing the bulge which stretches the fabric of his pants. 

—

It’s been a great night so far. You’re seated beside Harry, Gemma on the other side. But there’s a heavy amount of anticipation in the air as the nomination for Best Pop/R&B act is announced. 

Harry has your hand held under the table. Though he doesn’t show it, he’s as nervous as a cat on hot bricks. 

“Harry Styles!”

He looks up when he hears his song playing over the arena. Excitement was coursing through his veins. He hugs Gemma and fist bumps his cousin, before turning to you with a beam on his face. He kisses your cheek as he pulls you in a hug. 

—

He’s won Song of the Year and you and Gemma laughed amongst yourself watching Harry take a shot on stage. But it seemed that was all he needed to get his night going as he sips drink after drink. 

But Harry’s an affectionate drunk. And you know he’s quite buzzed when, even in the public eye, can’t resist keeping a hand on you at all times. 

His lips caress your cheeks more than usual at a setting like this. His arm around your shoulder keeps you tucked beside him at all times. And the hand between your thigh only gets riskier and riskier. 

“Baby, drink some water.” You bring a glass of water up to his face once you’ve noticed the way his eyes glaze over. 

“I’m fine, love. Gemma, tell your sister-in-law I’m fine.” 

Gemma laughs at her little brother, “Maybe take a sip or two, H.” 

“See,” you tell him.

“Fine.” He groans like a petulant child. But does as he’s told, downing the glass. 

—

It’s the last one for the night and he’s three for four, at the moment. 

“I love you.” Harry hums against your temple, his arm on your shoulder.

“I love you too, handsome.” You turn to him with a smile, placing your hand against his cheek. It’s just you two in this little bubble, or at least it feels that way with the way Harry looks at you. 

You lower your hand. “You’re a little juiced up, huh?” You tease. 

He lifts up his free hand, holding his thumb and pointer finger together. “Just a smidge.” Before he belched into his fist. “Sorry.”

“Ew, H” 

..

“And your artist of the year is…Harry Styles!”

In a drunken fit, Harry bangs his fist against the table, then shoots up from his seat. He hugs his sister and kisses her cheek. Then turns to you, his wife, who stands beside him cheering him on with unshed tears in her eyes. And in a moment of outright happiness, a fulfilled heart, and a surge of fondness for the women he loves. He sweeps you into a kiss. 

You thought he’d go the proper route, just a hug and a sweet peck at most. But his arm winds around your waist and his hand takes place on your cheek, before he’s sweeping you into a crushing kiss. And who are you to deny the man. 

It’s over fairly quickly, nothing too crazy. He was still on national television, after all, and his mum was probably watching. 

Harry makes his way to the stage with a pep in his step. You watch as he accepts the award, hugging the presenter. 

He clears his throat once he’s handed the mic. 

“What a night!” The room rises in cheers. “I want to thank everyone for listening. I want to thank my mum for signing me up for X factor. My family for their support. Niall, Liam, Louis, Zayn, because I wouldn’t be here without them. And especially my wife: thank you for everything you do. I love you, and don’t know what I'd do without you and your support. Thank you Brits!” He finishes off before waving and getting off the stage. 

—

“Are you having fun?” Harry mumbles into your air. His hands are clasped together in front of your waist, your back to his front, as you swing slowly side to side. 

You're presently at the after party, changed into your second outfit of the night, and Harry into his fourth. You’ve had a few in you too, and the both of you truly just danced the night away and mingled with your friends that were present. 

“The best night,” you drop your head on his shoulder, looking up into his emerald gaze. Harry looks down at you in return, a soft look in his eyes, but you’re pretty sure it’s the alcohol drawing his eyes together like that. 

Harry lowers his head to kiss the tip of your nose. “Enough to head back home?” 

Harry’s question is lined with the offer of a sensual night. 

“Definitely.”

—

a/n: i've missed writing for him!!! i'm so happy i was able to get some inspiration

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback 💗

[finelinevogue]

X

I feel his first solo stadium show in Glasgow would be so perfect to include !! When he couldn’t believe the audience and the fact that he was in a stadium was sooo special like when he walked out … and the ‘This is my first stadium, I really like it’ bit :(

So excited to see what you do with this story 🫶

MY FIRST LOT:DOC ASK YAY!!! thank you 💖

The screen was black with nothing but the sounds of thousands of fans singing Bohemian Rhapsody. Then ‘Glasgow, 2022’ came up on the screen.

The screen then cut to a group of fans standing behind a metal barricade at the front row of the kitchen pod.

“It’s Glasgow baby!” The fans screamed, waving their hands and one even shook their rainbow flag they hoped Harry would collect later.

“Love on tour night one!”

The screen then cut to inside the dressing rooms, Harry putting down his phone to talk to you.

“Hey baby.” Harry smiled at you through the dressing room mirror. You were in the background doing some pre-show chores, until you heard the chanting in the distance and had to stop what you were doing to take a moment with him.

“Y’hear them, H? They’re all for you.” You told him, referring to all of the people you could hear screaming outside.

Harry: She said; ‘This is your moment, H. It’s yours.’

Harry: She said; ‘This is your moment, H. It’s yours.’

The next few clips of footage were from backstage.

The next few clips of footage were from backstage.

“Hi.” Harry smiled and waved when he caught sight of the camera. Normally he would frown and shy away from the cameras, but because he knew this was for his documentary.

The camera followed Harry as he walked from the changing room to the kitchen, where Sarah was. Harry held the door open for the cameraman, but didn’t acknowledge he was there so it was candid content.

“Hello ladies!” Harry greeted the women in the room, who were creating dinner for everyone.

“Hello Harry.” “Hi darling.” The ladies responded.

“Have you seen my Y/N?” He asked, unclipping the little clip on the top of his head to readjust it and pin back some fallen hair.

“Went to check on the cameras for tonight, I think they said.”

Harry: Y/N has a habit of telling me she’s in one place and then ending up in a completely different place. It’s a running joke now, actually.

Y/N: It’s not on purpose. He just doesn’t quite understand how skippy I am!

“This way?” Harry pointed up some stairs where he could see a door up top.

He continued to walk up the stairs, skipping the top few by taking two at a time.

“Baby, c’mon.” He waited for you, holding out a hand for you to grab before he opened the door to the special viewing box.

Harry and you were filmed walking to the front of the viewing box, the wrap around glass windows allowing you to see across the whole stadium. Harry cupped one hand over his mouth to feign his shock, whilst the other was still tightly enclosed against yours.

The camera zoomed in on your interlocked hands, capturing the moment where Harry squeezed yours an extra bit. The fans would later go crazy for those 2 seconds of footage.

Jeff: You could see in that moment, he was thinking: ‘I’ve made it.’ My eyes were tearing up, actually.

Mitch: It was a big moment for him in his touring career and I could tell that he was glad to have Y/N there with him, y’know?

Y/N: Oh. How did I feel in that moment? God, um. Overwhelmed!

Harry: I mean, seeing the thousands of people there for you. Like, each one had bought a ticket because they enjoy my company or enjoy my music. It’s actually impossible to wrap my head around even now.

Y/N: I think when Sushi began to play, that’s when it all became real.

The documentary then went to a black screen and noted: 10 minutes later.

Sushi started to play in the background, little bursts of images and videos flickered on and off the screen. It showed tiny clips of the crowds screaming, another one panning across the stage over the band and a final one of Harry pacing back and forth backstage.

Then the part of Sushi where Harry runs on stage started and the crowd went absolutely mental.

“GREEN EYES, FRIED RICE, I COULD COOK AN EGG ON YOU.” The crowd bellowed, Harry smiling and laughing to himself mid-song as he took in what it sounded like for a stadium to sing your songs back to you.

Harry: That first line of Sushi i’ll never forget, yeah.

Pauli: Getting to be a party of that, yeah it was pretty cool. Harry’s to thank for that.

Anne: I remember Y/N face-timing me during Sushi and I couldn’t even hear H. The crowd was so loud that my phone was only picking up their singing.

Gemma: Yeah, mum and I were both crying from home!

Jeff: And H said…

“This is my first stadium show and I really like it.”

Y/N: That was the moment I knew.

Mitch: I think everyone kind of knew from that point on.

Harry: I was home.

[dreamer-grl]

i need more love island themed stories… like LI!Harry @finelinevogue edition… STELLAR. I just saw a drabble with the footballers @boyfriendfc … I need more of this. Can more writers please crank these out. I’m talking series, blurbs, drabbles, one shots… i’m talking it all… Please!!!!

[finelinevogue]

i love love LOVED this!!! oh!!!! yeahhhhh!!! like the way harry did not care about the award at all when he saw his girl up on stage had my heart swooning! absolutely obsessed with this concept folkie <333

brits surprise - singer!yn and harry

ending kinda sucks but i hope you like it :) let me know your thoughts

MY PATREON | MASTERLIST

"Do you want me to hang up so you can get ready?"

"No. Don't," Harry replied, eyes focused on his phone where his girlfriend's face was displayed, "I still have a few minutes before I need to get dressed."

It was one of the most important days for Harry's year, the Brit Awards, it wasn't the first time he was nominated or attending, but after winning Album of The Year at the Grammys mere days before, the night felt even more special.

YN was by his side for the Grammys, cheering for him and holding his hand the entire time. However, her schedule got too tight by the time the Brit Awards came, with tour rehearsals and interviews that didn't allow her to attend the ceremony.

Or that was what Harry thought, but he was completely unaware of the plan his girlfriend, team and friends were orchestrating to get her to London on time to surprise him by announcing one of his awards on stage.

"I really wish you were here," Harry said, running his hands through his dark curls, "But I know you need to rehearse for your tour, and I'm proud of you."

"I'm proud of you too, baby," YN told him, biting back the urge to tell him that she was planning on surprising him, "You're going to do amazing."

"Sue, It's time to get dressed." Lambert voice was heard through the room, and Harry knew it was his cue to hang up.

"I have to go love, but I'll make sure to call you before I go on stage, okay?"

"It's okay, H. Good luck!"

After a couple of hours had passed and Harry delivered an amazing performance, won 3 awards, thanked his former bandamates on stage, kissed Lewis Capaldi and chugged down too many tequila shots, the most important moment of the night was coming up.

Harry was going to get the Album of The Year award and his girlfriend was ready to surprise him on stage.

He was unaware of it all, still thinking that he might not get the award at the end like it happened in 2019 with his album Fine Line.

Mo Gilligan, the host of the night came on stage to introduce who was presenting the category, and when her girlfriend's name was called, Harry thought the alcohol he had chugged down was playing games with his mind.

It was safe to say that he lost his mind when he saw the girl he loved walk out clad in her navy blue suit looking absolutely stunning.

"Good evening Brit Awards!" she said into the mic, making the entire audience erupt in cheers, "You know I wouldn't miss UK's biggest night for anything in the world, and I'm here to present the award for Album of the Year, these are the nominees."

Harry was lost for words, and he didn't care if he lost the award, he just wanted to rush to the stage and kiss his girlfriend.

"And the winner is..." she said after the video showing the nominees was over, opening the envelope, "Harry Styles!"

The melodies from Late Night Talking filled the arena as Harry let out an excited scream and made his way to the stage, eager to reach his girlfriend who was holding out the award for him.

"I can't believe you're here! You sneaky shit!" Harry spoke into her ear as they hugged, placing soft pecks to her cheek, "This is so amazing!" he leaned back to look at her, not thinking twice before grabbing her face and placing a quick peck to her lips.

Remembering that he was on live television and that he had just won a major award, he let go of her and approached the mic to give his speech.

"This night has been really, really special to me and I will never forget it. Thank you so much for the welcome home, I appreciate it so much. There is no place like home. Thank you, thank you, thank you," he paused for a minute to look at his award and smile, "I’m so, so proud to be a British artist out there in the world. I’m so proud to be here tonight celebrating British artists and British music. Thank you, thank you, thank you," he turned his face to look at his girlfriend fro a minute, "I would also love to thank this stunning, sneaky woman who didn't tell me she was going to be here, you really surprised me, love. I'm so grateful you're here, I love you," he blew a quick kiss to her, and she mouthed a soft "I love you" back, "I’m gonna hand it over to Tom and Tyler. Thank you so much for this, I’m so grateful.”

After Tom and Tyler were done with their speeches and the four of them were off the stage, Harry couldn't wait much longer before he was crashing his lips to his girlfriend's again.

"I'm so happy you're here, so so happy."

"I'm always going to be here, love."

taglist: @cucciolafaerie e @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles s @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @noitsmebecky @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas inemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay @goldensstateofgrace @missmielyhoran @fdl305 @lightsoutstyles

[gumballavocadoharry]

Could've been you:

Inspiration from @finelinevogue brother Harry and his gold digging girlfriend Natalia

Link to the blurb right here

Harry was smitten with her. Aria. She was very pretty; her long thick dark brown hair that bounced a few extra curls in it, her olive skin that shimmered in sunlight and her brimming heart shaped lips that were painted in cherry pink. Her salient grey eyes that were underlined in modest black eyeliner, scanned the room that had turned perturb the second she made her debut.

Despite her beauty, she was venomous. Poisonous, cold to touch and it didn't faze her not one bit. You as Harry's sister saw the monster that hid in those designer shoes and quintessential face. She was angelic to Harry, your older brother who was your best friend in the entire world. Nothing came before you and it was the same with him. But Aria hated that. So in retaliation she treated you with deep contempt. She was atrocious in her words and impish with her attacks.

You didn't know why you tolerated it, but you knew that if you told Harry, he wouldn't believe you. He was too head over heels for her and wasn't ready to hear anything bad about the woman he seemed to lavish so much of his attention for.

"I'll be right back," He said kissing her cheek soundly and practically skipping upstairs to his room for his wallet. Harry had planned to take his two special girls out for ice cream, so while he was upstairs, you were now sitting across from Satan yourself. You swore you could make out the goat skull shape on her face with her irate eyes boring deep into you.

"Nice shirt," She said, revealing a cruel smirk stretching across her face. "Really covers up the stretch marks." That was always a sensitive subject for you. You hated your stretch marks and always felt insecure about them. So for Aria to poke at your weakest spot burned inside....but nonetheless, you decided not responding would make it go away....hopefully. Before she could say anything else, Harry came downstairs.

"Ready to go?" Aria swung her arms Harry's neck innocently, pressing kisses to his cheeks sweetly. You shuffled yourself to the car, gulping down the bittersweet tension that Aria invariably produces with you. She gave you a solid shove when it looked like you were heading towards the passenger seat. Harry didn't even notice it but instead smiled at Aria as she joined in next to him in the car.

At the ice cream place, Harry ordered while you and Aria stood aside. "That blue moon flavor sure looks delicious," You pondered out loud. Aria glanced at you with a disgusted look. "Piggy. Probably shouldn't order a large." That comment got to you more than it should have.

"Hey guys what would you like?" "A medium chocolate sundae." Aria said with sham charm. "Yn?"

"Uh a small blue moon cone." Harry looked confound as you usually ordered a large or medium cone. "Trying to watch my figure." You said with a chuckle to Harry to reassure him. "Well that's a joke." Aria snorted. You rolled your eyes and hushed any sign of sniffles trying to erupt from your bruised feelings.

Harry spent most of his time talking to Aria and completely leaving you out of the conversation per usual whenever Aria's in the room. She lights up his world and nothing else matters. Not even you. It broke your heart but you figured there was nothing you could do about it.

"Oh yn you got a little ice cream on your shirt," Harry said grabbing a couple napkins from the counter. "Like a baby." Aria chirped in which made Harry laugh like it was the funniest thing. He thought she meant it as a joke, but with the orney way she it, and the churlish attitude she presented, there was no doubt that it wasn't a joke.

"Gotta laugh at yourself ya know." She hissed in a patronizing way when she realized you weren't laughing. Probably thought you were making her look bad. Like you could do that to already antipathy persona she already had. She said this in front of Harry who not once stood up for you. When everyone's back was turned, you chucked the rest of your cone into the trash can. It wasn't appetizing anymore.

A lump in your throat kept threatening to overturn itself and you would be full on sobbing on the car ride home. You turned to stare out the window while Harry and Aria were invested deeply into their conversation. "Jenelle looked so fat in that dress, it was like a sweaty pig wearing a red sequin dress, hilarious!"

Your stomach was grotessed by Aria's speech of her supposed 'friend'. Harry hung on every word yet didn't comment.

Later on in the evening, you and Harry were washing dinner dishes that had piled up over time mostly due to the both of you being rather lazy and relied on Anne or Gemma to finally get so sick of it that they would cave in. But Anne expected you and Harry to be responsible in your household assignments.

"Aria sure is sweet isn't she?" Harry dunked a plate into the sudsy hot water. "Yeah I guess." Harry furrowed his eyebrows and turned to you briefly before turning his attention back to the plate again.

"What's wrong?" You shrugged but then made a quick decision to be honest with your brother about his savage girlfriend. "She doesn't like me very much. I know it's only been 2 months since you started dating her, but...I just don't really care for her."

Harry was in flummox about your answer. This was the first time you had ever spoken about Aria like this to Harry. "She seems nice though. Could you give her another chance?" Your breath grew hot. How much more of this beast would you be able to tolerate. You swallowed your meekness and told Harry everything Aria had said to you.

"If this is about the ice cream earlier, it was just a joke! I think maybe you're being a little too sensitive,"

"Good. My sensitivity keeps me on my toes." Spoke vapored into your tone. "Yn, she makes me happy," Harry said getting defensive, "You're being spoiled. I'm allowed to have other people in my life besides you."

Harry scrubbed more harshly with the dishes signifying his annoyance towards you. You knew Harry wouldn't have believed you, but it still didn't take the sting out from being completely cast aside for Aria like you were some bug that was kept buzzing around; working on Harry's last nerve and who kept trying to swat at you to leave him alone. Well now you were alone.

With Anne and Gemma being gone at a concert, no one was there to come to your defense. "You finish up, I'm going to bed." Harry practically threw the sponge at you when it soaked the top part of your shirt. Tear dropped in the sink as you finished up the last dish and cleaned up before retiring to bed yourself.

"Yn, come on let's go!" Harry huffed as he tapped his chelsea boot against the carpeted floor impatiently, "Aria's waiting!" With the truth out, Harry had thought you were deliberately taking your time just because you didn't like her. You hurried downstairs, barely getting your jacket on and followed Harry out the door.

"Be nice," Harry parked the car into a spacy parking space. You rolled your eyes and clicked your tongue. "Right, I'll be a sweet little angel." You scoffed sarcastically. "I mean it yn. Don't be a baby." Harry said with more repugnance in his voice than yesterday. it shook you enough to drop any hint of causality from your tone and inherit regard instead.

You both entered the restaurant side by side, immediately eyeing the devil in a sequin gray blouse. "Hey babe." Aria greeted with Harry kissing and hugging her like he hadn't seen her in ages despite yesterday's trip to the ice cream shop. She bestired herself to not even say so much as a hello to you, while you stood there dumbfounded but perplexed as to why it was you felt that way.

You took a seat next Harry knowing there would be no way in hell you could ever sit next to sequen obsessed demon, and picked up the menu and ordered what you thought looked good.

The waiter came over and took the menus and placed your order. "I'll have a cheese burger with fries and a water please." You requested. Aria gave a small internal chuckle loud enough for you to hear.

"I'll have the parmesan salad with no tomato, cheese or onions."

You chuckled silently realizing that she pretty much ordered lettuce with parmesan on it. "Same." Your eyes darted to Harry as he would never order such a thing. Aria placed her hand on top of Harry's in agreement with his order. It was like he was under her mind control.

Your table's food came and everyone started munching away on their food. Harry would always occasionally glance at your food anguished to trade his flagrant salad for a bit of your delicious meal. "Wanna bite?" You offered once you realized him staring. But before Harry could say anything, Aria spoke for the both of them. "We're fine thanks." She sassed in curt way. You looked over to Harry who gave a small smile and nodded before turning back to his meal.

Aria and Harry's conversation once again excluded you as were expected to just sit back and scoff down your meal. Once your tummy was full and your plate was as empty as Harry's stomach, the waiter came over and collected your plates.

"How was everything?" He asked. "Delicious."

"Mine was dry and tasted shredded." Aria's attitude was an embarrassment to you. You just couldn't understand how Harry could tolerate another human being treating someone this way. You sent apologetic eyes to the waiter who smiled at you and completely brisked past Aria....And Harry. "I've got to use the restroom, I'll be back." Harry left, leaving you and Aria at the table alone.

"I-I like your top," You were trying to be nice and kind. But Aria didn't respond at instead focused more on her texting than on your effort to be civil. "This was supposed to be a date with just me and Harry you know." She hissed.

"I know, but Harry really wanted me to come and so I did. To support him,"

"Ha, support him? We both know the only reason you tag along with Harry is because you're a lonely little piggy that no one wants to be bothered with-"

"I'm not a lonely piggy," You whisper yelled. "Unlike you I care about my brother and don't use him to get money or compliments for the sake of my status!"

"Did you tell Harry that, Yn?" She sneered, acting like saying your name caused her to be poisoned. You sat back and didn't answer. "And did he believe you?" She said with the most condescending tone and batting of the eyes that would disgust even the most vile people. "Right. And do you know why......because no one wants you or the likes of you. I could name a list of reasons as to why but I think I'll just give you the one I've noticed the most.....you are nothing but a big FAT baby."

Tears welled in your eyes as Aria's words hit you harder than slash to your wrist....which you unfortunately knew what that felt like. She exposed the flesh of your insecurities and ripped them piece by piece just to make sure you knew just how much she hated you.

She sat back in her seat, giving a dirty smirk looking at you break down in front of her. Harry came from around the corner with a very disturbed and livid scowl. "Hey bab-"

"Don't you baby me Aria" He said with the same poison in his veins as Aria did to you. "I heard everything from around that corner." He sneered in such an angry tone, that it made you scared as to what he was going to do. "I don't know what she said to you bu-"

"It's not what she said, it's what you said. And I heard everything from around that corner."

"Harry you're not going to cause a scene like this in public." "Well then get away from me and my sister and there won't be one! We are through! Your salad tasted like crap and so you can pay for it!" Harry gently grabbed your arm and guided you out of the restaurant, leaving Aria dumbfounded.

"No one talks to my sister like that!" Harry finally let out an angry roar. You still looked down holding back tears from your eyes. "You say that now," You gulped down some sobs that wanted to erupt.

"Yn I-" "How could you?! You allowed all of that to happen before you stepped in. She tore me apart and...you didn't believe me the first time!"

You sped up and away from Harry to get away from him. You couldn't bear looking at him, mostly because tears were freely streaming through your face. "I'll find my own way back,"

"Yn, you know you can't walk home alone." Harry said with slight laughter. "Oh go ahead and patronize me, laugh it up since it's so hilarious. If I can tolerate Aria's abuse, and sucking in my extreme indignity in a public place....then I think I'm more than capable of finding my a way back home that doesn't include you. No need to spoil me!"

Just then, Aria came running out begging Harry for forgiveness. You rolled your eyes and walked to the end of the parking lot alone. "Aria what you did was unforgivable...I could never take you back after the way you treated yn." Harry walked away leaving Aria in despair.

He pulled his car up next to you and honked the horn. "Yn please get in. Aria's gone and it's just you and me," Harry pleaded. You thought for a while and then settled yourself into the passenger's seat. "I am so sorry yn....I was stupid to not believe you. You're my little sister and I could never want anything to happen to you. Please forgive me."

You looked to Harry; in his eyes pleaded for forgiveness and were those same puppy dog eyes that showed immense regret. "Oh...alright." Harry pulled you in for a tight hug and wiped your tears.

"How about some tacos? My treat?" Harry suggested. "Sounds great to me." You replied with a more causal tone. All was forgiven.

[avalentina]

Still Not Over It

A/N: when I am writing this it's August 1st. And I am going to confess a few things right here and right now. 

I joined the Harry Styles train in March. (Until then I just didn't get the whole obsession with him)

I originally joined Tumblr to read Draco Malfoy smut, but I started searching Harry Potter and well… 'Snacks and Sex' by the one and only @watchmegetobsessed popped up and I read it. From that moment, I was hooked. I read all of Dory's fics, then I found @gurugirl , @fkinavocado , @freedomfireflies , @finelinevogue , and @lukesaprince . (Just to name a few) {So thank you to every author of a Harry styles fic, I've read too many to keep them straight. And I love all of you}

I started writing a few of my normal chapter fics, and just realized they weren't cutting it. So I decided to switch it up and I wrote "the shower incident" (By this point all of my coworkers would've liked it if I could shut up about Harry Styles. But for obvious reasons, I just couldn't.)

I started to get stressed out at work, and was having a really shitty day in the front of store at where I work, when 'Grapejuice' started playing on the mall speakers, I went from being ready to quit the job I love to dancing in the store while fixing a display. So thanks Harry, for not letting me do something I would regret. 

I was stressed at work (again, it happens a lot in my position), I had been working there for a bit, and still didn't understand why none of his songs played in the store. I was ready for a break from people, and a break from the store itself when next thing I knew, Canyon Moon played for the first time ever in that store. My coworkers laughed when I started jumping up and down almost bursting with excitement "AND I'M STILL THINKING BACK TO, OUR TIME UNDER THE CANYON MOON!" "ITS HARRY!" "GUYS SHUT UP, HARRY STYLES IS ON" became a few things that now get joked about constantly. I'm belting these out right along with him and I still dance around the store when his songs play. ( So again, thank you Harry!)

And now, to the actual blurb!

Still Not Over It

"H, I'm still not over it." You cry into your boyfriend's shoulder. Love On Tour has been over for close to two weeks now and you still cry everyday. Harry misses it too. 

"I know baby love, I know, I'm not over it yet either." He answers you and just holds you.

"So unend it, tell everyone that you were just taking a little rest, and schedule ten more years of lot, because I'm not over it, you're not over it, and they're not over it. It's your tour, and if you want it to last forever, then it will last for fucking ever!" You cry and beat your fists lightly against his chest.

"Baby love, everything has to end, there will be another tour, it won't be lot, but we will always have the memories we made on lot, and also the fact that it tells a timeline of our relationship."

"Hhhhhhhh, will you ever stop being just the sweetest?" You ask him, drawing out the letter like he loves.

"I'm mean sometimes, but only when you beg and ask me nicely, or act like a brat, but you're just so perfect for me that it's next to impossible not to be sweet with you baby love." He replies and you blush uncontrollably. "That's my girl!" He adds and kisses each of your cheeks.

"Oh shut it H," you say, quickly changing your tone, before reaching out to slap him playfully.

"And now we're being a brat. Guess I'll have to have Mean Me fix it." He replies commandingly before picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder and marching upstairs to your shared bedroom.

You give him a few slaps on his rear, smiling to yourself.

"Ey, quit it back there, or I'll have to paint your little bottom red with my handprints." He adds.

Thanks for reading! Hope y'all enjoyed!

-Ava

Just a few extra notes, don't forget to join my taglist if you like my fics and want to know when I post new ones.

I'm still in need of songs and characters for SSIBHSS (send me your favorite song and what you would like me to name your character)

And yes, I do know it's September, this one has been sitting for a bit.

[finelinevogue]

i’ve been waiting for a fic like this 🫡🫡🫡

i’m actually sat here like damn…. this whole fic took me on a journey and i LOVED it <33

It would be so cute if you could write about harry and yn being together since highschool and they were each others first everything and they got married very early and just their live together now yk

From Here To Eternity.

a/n: thank you to the very kind anon that requested this blurb, it was definitely a fun one to write and i’m sorry it took so long to post! fyi i’m absolutely terrible at writing smut so please don’t come at me🫶

masterlist || ask me anything <3

likes and re-blogs are very much appreciated!!

word count - 9.8k

in which, harry and you first met on your first day of secondary school, and since then your lives have always revolved around each other. she’s been there through everything, his x-factor audition, when the band first rose to fame, when they went on a hiatus and when he made it big as a solo star. they were each others first everything’s, and that made the whole ordeal just that more special.

September 4th, 2009 — the first meeting.

On the first day of secondary school, your nerves were through the roof. The fact that your hands were shaking was not helping the factor that you knew absolutely no one in this school.

You were absolutely terrified of being late to your classes and having to do the walk of shame towards your desk as everyone stared at you.

Walking down the hallway, you happened to spot a boy with brown curly hair, he was putting something away in his locker and a focused look on his face.

“Excuse me,” You gained his attention as you walked over to him, his snapping over to me. “I was wondering if you happened to know where room 102 was?”

He closed his locker behind him and stood up straighter. “— yeah I do, I’m heading there myself in a minute, what’s your name? M’Harry?”

Relief showered your body knowing that you had found someone to talk to and someone you could walk into class with. “My names (Y/N)”

“So are you new here?”he asked, gripping a hold of his backpack that was over his shoulder, it blended in with your school uniform.

You nodded your head. “—yeah we moved from Liverpool, today's my first day.”

“So what classes do you have today?” Harry asked as you tried not to bump into students in your way.

You glanced down at the timetable that was in your hands and let out a small groan. “I’ve got Math, English, Religious Studies and then Science”

Harry let out a small laugh. “— I’ve got the same, looks like we’re going to be in the same classes”

Thank god.

At least you would know someone in your classes through the day and wouldn’t have to feel like a loner.

“Maths is definitely my favourite subject,”Harry continued on smiling at the thought of his favourite subject. “What’s yours?”

“Oh I’m absolutely terrible at maths,”You shook your head before pondering an answer to his previous question. “— I think my favourite subject may be pe.”

As the two of you walked towards the class (more like you following behind him like a little bit of a lost puppy) you continued to chet about your favourite hobbies.

You found out that he was part of a music group named ‘White Eskimo’ and he had even invited you to rage along to one of their practices when you had time.

You found yourself laughing at the little jokes that he seemed to slip into the conversation and you felt a lot more at ease about the school day ahead.

By the time you both arrived at the door of the classroom, you felt your throat go dry upon seeing your Maths teacher Mr.Jones already reaching the class.

Not only had you made yourself late, you had now dragged your new friend down to your depths.

Great.

Harry tried to quietly open the door, hoping not to disturb the class but the teacher had already snapped their head over to see the two of you entering the room.

Mr.Jones raised an eyebrow at Harry. “Late on the first day back?”

Your new friend looked down at the ground slightly. “—M’sorry,Sir.”

The teacher let out a sigh before turning their attention over to you and eyeing you up carefully. “Who's your friend?”

“My names (Y/N), I’m new here and Harry helped me get here, it’s my fault we’re late.”I tried to explain to the teacher who just pushed there glasses further up the bridge of there nose.

“Well (Y/N) and Harry, go ahead and take the seats at the back of the class for me.”Mr.Jones nodded there head over to the two empty seats you were expected to occupy.

As the two of you sat down in the seats, you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and felt your face flush a soft shade of pink.

Being late on your first day wasn’t so teething you expected to do. But they couldn’t really blame you.

You just didn’t want to make a bad first impression.

“I’m sorry about making you late.”You apologised to Harry, as you grabbed a pencil from your pencil case.

Harry waved you off with a reassuring smile. “— it’s all good.”

As the lesson progressed on you and Harry shared notes about the syllabus you were learning, helping each other with the work as much as you could without the teacher calling you out for speaking.

“Thanks for letting me sit next to you, you didn’t have to.” you muttered to Harry who was flicking through the textbook.

He smiled at you. “— honestly, it’s been my pleasure, and can’t wait to see where this friendship goes.”

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

April 2nd, 2010 — Prom.

When Harry had invited you round his house on Saturday, you thought absolutely nothing of it.

Since you first started year eleven, you and Harry were quick to become best friends and would often go round each other's houses on the weekend and have a sleepover until Sunday.

When he opened the door after hearing you knock on it, you could instantly pick up on how nervous he was due to the fact his fingers were curled up into a fist.

“Hi, H!”you greeted him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

There was no doubt that over the course of your friendship that you hadn’t thought about him in another way.

You spent every school day together since you started and most weekends together as well unless you were doing something with your families.

Harry opened the door a bit more. “— hey, come on in.”

Once inside, Harry led you out to the back garden seeing as it was a warm summer's day, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Until your eyes landed on the set up.

A picnic had been set up and a red and white chequered blanket was laid out on the greenery. A bowl of fruit in the middle with some sandwiches laid out as well.

“Wow..Harry,”you breathed out. “— what’s all this for?”

“I was thinking about Prom and how we weren’t too sure about if we should go,”he explained, sitting down on the blanket with you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “— I wanted to ask if you would be my Prom date? I wanted it to be special.”

Did you hear him right?

He wants you to be his prom date?

“Really?”was all I managed to speak, still trying to wrap my head around his question.

He nodded his head. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I can’t deny that I like you, we’re friends and going to prom together would be the first step into getting something more.”

Was this way of him saying he liked you?

Holy fucking moly.

“You like me?”

He smirked at you. “— isn’t that obvious?”

He took a sip of strawberry water from his cup. “So what do you say? Will you be my prom date?”

You flushed a shade of red making him let out a small laugh. “I would love to be your prom date!”

When Prom night finally came around, your nerves were skyrocketing.

You stood at the top of the stairs after hearing from your mum who was peering out the windows that your prom date had arrived and was eagerly awaiting for your prom dress to get revealed, so that he could like you even more.

You took in a small inhale of air before your heel clad feet started making their way down the stairs, hand holding onto the railing so that you didn’t fall and trip, and that was when you saw him.

Harry.

He was wearing a grey suit, with a white crisp shirt underneath as well as a matching grey suit vest and a black bow tie to compliment the outfit even more, his hair was styled the exact same with his unruly curls framing his face and had some black shoes on his feet.

“Wow,”Harry’s mouth gaped as he stared at you, “— you look beautiful!”

You had no idea that you would be matching colours seeing as you hadn’t even known what each other was going to wear.

This was complete coincidence.

Your dress was a light grey strapless dress with a long skirt that was layered. There was a sprinkling of light pink flowers embroidered onto the torso of the dress to add the slightest pop of colour.

Your cheeks flushed. “Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself.”

Your mother was standing next to your father at the bottom of the stairs as well, a camera was in her hands as Harry came and stood next to you, placing a hand on your hip and bringing you in closer to him.

“The two of you look lovely.”Your mother complimented as she continued to take photos.

“Thanks mom.”You let out a small groan of embarrassment as Harry let out a small laugh.

Your father clapped Harry on the back as the two of you made your way towards the front door, he was grinning at him. “— take care of my daughter tonight, Harry.”

“I will Mr. (Y/L/N)”Harry let out a nervous chuckle.

After the two of you had said your goodbyes to your parents, Harry who had just passed his drivers test grabbed his keys out of his pocket and opened your car door for you like a true gentleman.

Once the both of you were in the seats, Harry turned to look at you with a look of fondness. “You really do look beautiful by the way.”

“And you really do look handsome.”You told him in truth, tucking a curl out of his eyes.

The drive to the venue was one filled with laughter and comfortableness when the two of you arrived at the venue, strobe lights were lining up the exterior as a red carpet was rolled out.

Throughout the entire night, you and Harry continued to dance, moving your bodies and that was when you realised just how charming and considerate Harry really was.

All in all you had a great time together.

As the night drew to a close and prom king and queen was announced, Harry placed a hand on the small of your back as the final slow dance of the evening took place.

“How would you feel if I took you on a real date sometime?”

Your heart skipped a beat and your stomach felt as if butterflies had taken home there. “— I would feel privileged.”

What a great way to end the night.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

June 17th, 2010 — the first time.

“If you're not ready to do this…''Harry panted out as you wrapped your arms around his neck from where you were laying underneath him, both of you in nothing but your knickers. “…then we don’t have to, I’m not pressuring you into doing anything.”

“I really want to do this,”you whispered, pressing a kiss to his nose. “— there’s no one else I would rather be doing this with, I trust you Harry, baby.”

After your first date, you and Harry had been on five more before he asked you to be his girlfriend and after dating for two months you finally figured out that you were both ready to take the next big step in your relationship.

Harry nodded his head and started leaving kisses down her jaw, and lower down her neck, making you squirm slightly in his grip.

He slowly pulled the waistband of your knickers down from your hips and gradually down your leg making you wish he would simply hurry up.

“God, you're making me melt over here, babe.” Harry complimented as he took sight of your bare core, glistening and all for him.

He was a virgin also, so that factor made this even more special.

“Please..please har..Harry.”you whined, head thrown back as his hand teased at your bud of nerves, he tried not to whine as well at seeing you like this.

Your first time was together.

He was getting you ready for him and that made you even more nervous.

The condom was on his length before you even got a chance to blink.

His length was bulky and there was a large vein leading up to the top of his penis, where a drop of pre cum was starting to form.

Harry laced your fingers together as he slowly entered your soaking core.

It wasn’t as painful as you had imagined but it was definitely uncomfortable.

It would take a lot of getting used to.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feeling and knowing that the moisture was all because of him and no one else.

“You feel so good (Y/N).”Harry groaned as he thrusted in and out of you at a gentle pace.

You reached your hand up and pulled at his curls as moans and groans fell from both of your lips and filled his bedroom.

He kissed you with everything he had, and that was what solidified the deal for you.

You loved him.

Your legs tightened and your stomach copied.

“Let go, sweet girl,”Harry spoke softly, making a tear fall down your cheek at the pleasure you were currently facing. “— come for me, babe.”

“Let go, let go for me, sweet girl.” A wave of ecstasy rolled over your body as you came undone and felt his lips against your feverish skin.

Harry pressed a kiss to your lips. “— I love you (Y/N) I love you so much.”

Your pants made it hard to figure things out around you but you had definitely heard what he had said.

He loves you?

Harry Edward Styles really said he loved you.

You let out a small breath. “I love you Harry, I really do.”

There’s definitely a right place to say things like this and this was definitely the place.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

August 6th, 2010 — the news.

“I’ve got some news.”

You tilted your head to the side as you laid down next to Harry on the hammock in his garden, your legs entwined and your head rested on his chest.

You lifted your head up slightly. “What’s the news?”

“You know how you and mum are always saying that I’ve got a good voice?” He asked, running a hand up and down your arm.

You nodded at him as an answer, you did really think that he had a good voice, you would often hear him singing to himself getting changed in the mornings you would sleep over, you would hear him singing you to sleep at night when you were a little bit restless.

He was even part of ‘White Eskimo’ so if he was the frontman of a band then he obviously had a good voice.

“Well I think I’m going to audition for X-factor.”

You sat up completely, eyes wide as his words registered in your brain.

“You're going to audition for X-factor?”You exclaimed, “— as in the show with Louis Walsh and Dermot O Leary?”

He nodded his head. “I’ve been practising non stop, you hear me singing all the time, so it only seems like the right thing to do.”

“I’m really excited for you!” You leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his cheek out of pure affection.

“Do you have an idea about what you're going to sing?” You mused, staring at him softly.

“Yeah, I want to sing something that really showcases my voice so I’ve been thinking ‘Hey Soul Sister’.”

One of your favourite songs.

“That’s a really good song, H.” you informed him, lacing your fingers together. “— you're going to do absolutely amazing.”

He hummed. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” You assured him, the sun shining down on your skin to give it a nice sun kissed glow. “— and I’m always here if you ever want help practising.”

He laughed, throwing his head back slightly at your words, you both knew that you were a very bad singer so just the thought of you helping him out seemed funny.

“I’ll definitely consider that.”

Over the next few weeks leading up to the audition, you would hear Harry singing every chance he got.

Whether that be in the shower, in the car on the way to school, and sometimes when you stayed over you could swear that you heard him singing in his sleep.

But that only showed his dedication to impress the judges.

And that hard work definitely paid off.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

February 19th, 2013 — gaining permission.

It was a warm summer’s evening when Harry approached the front door of your childhood home.

His nerves were high as he raised his fist to knock against the wood, his mind still rehearsing everything that he was about to say to him.

After hearing someone knock against the front door, your father raised his eyebrows and went ahead towards it, opening it up and coming face to face with your boyfriend of nearly three years.

“Hello Mr. (Y/L/N)”Harry greeted the man he called a second father and offered him a grin.

Your father and Harry shook hands. “— Afternoon, Harry.”

You had absolutely no idea that Harry was going round to speak to your father tonight seeing as you were on a girls weekend with a few friends from school, and so Harry thought this would be the best time to speak to him, without you wondering where he was.

The timing was perfect really.

“I came to talk to you about something really important, if that’s alright with you.”Harry explained, his palms suddenly becoming slightly sweaty.

Your father invited him into the home and they both settled down on the sofas in the living room, Harry began speaking seeing as he couldn’t hold it off anymore.

"Mr. (Y/L/N), I know we're young, but I can't imagine my future without your daughter," Harry stated as he sat across from your dad.

"I appreciate your honesty, Harry. But marriage is a big commitment. Are you sure you're ready for that?" Your dad replied, folding his arms.

When Harry was placed as a member of One Direction, he didn’t think that his life would change drastically, he had heard stories of boy bands and their girlfriends always having a hard time, but you and Harry were beating all the odds.

The two of you were stronger than ever.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered confidently. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I love her so much and I want to spend the rest of my life making her happy."

Your dad leaned back in his chair, contemplating Harry’s words. "Well, I have to say, I'm impressed with your sincerity. It's not often you see such devotion in young people these days. Alright, I'll give you my blessing."

The singer let out a sigh of relief and a smile spread across his face. "Thank you, sir! I'll do my best to make her happy every day."

As Harry stood up to leave, your dad stopped him. "One more thing, James. Promise me that you'll take care of her. She's my little girl and I love her more than anything in this world."

"I promise, sir," Harry replied, nodding his head earnestly. "I'll always be there for her and do whatever it takes to make her happy."

As Harry left, your dad couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and joy. He knew that his daughter was in good hands with a man who loved her so deeply.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

March 1st, 2013 — the pier.

Coming to the pier was a bit of a last time for you and Harry.

It held a lot of memories for the two of you.

When you would spend the nights round his house on the weekends, you would sneak out of the house and go and spend some time at the arcades at the end of the pier, he even won you a stuffed unicorn once.

You had gone there after prom when he asked you out on a proper date to stare at the stars as they rested in the sky,

After your fifth date, Harry had brought you to the pier and asked if you wanted to be his girlfriend.

You had been on the pier when he told you that he was put in One Direction, you weren’t allowed to be at that audition because your parents said that school was more important, you were there when he told you that his life was about to change drastically.

As you and Harry walked along the pier, he held your manicured hand tightly.

“So how was your day, baby?” You quizzed him, swinging your hands back and forth slightly.

“It was good,”Harry replied, “— busy with getting things ready for the tour, but it was good overall.”

You knew how hard he and the rest of the boys were working so that they could get everything ready for the tour they were about to embark on, you were tagging along as well so that you could spend as much time with Harry as possible.

“I can imagine,”you offered him a small smile. “How’s all that going?”

“I think it’s going well, to be honest.”he squeezed your hand as you continued walking down the pier. “— we’re just working on nailing the set list and then everything should be ready to go.”

As the two of you walked, the topic of conversation shifted from work to your family and then to finally what you both wanted your future to look like.

Over the years you had learned to feel comfortable with speaking to Harry about everything and anything.

“Speaking of the future,” He spoke, making you glance over at him, your eyes locking. “— what do you see in our future?”

You had thought about an answer to this question for a while now and contemplated telling him, but now seemed like the appropriate time to say it.

“I definitely see us having a happy, loving life together,”you began to answer, breathing softly. “Maybe a house, marriage and definitely some kids, you’d be a great dad.”

Harry’s heart swelled after hearing your words. “That sounds absolutely perfect.”

The two of you gazed out at the moonlit waves crashing below the wooden slats that were holding the pier up.

Finally, you reached the end of the pier where Harry stopped and turned to face you.

"(Y/N), I know we're only young," he began, "but I love you more than anything in this world. These past three years have been the happiest of my life and I can't imagine spending my future with anyone else."

Your heart was pounding as she stared into Harry’s forest green orbs that seemed to sparkle in the moonlight.

"H, I love you too," you replied, your voice shaking slightly.

“Sweetheart, you're my best friend, actually your more than that, your my whole world, my absolute reason to wake up every morning, you’ve been by my side through all the hardships and to say you’ve made me a better man would one hundred percent be the understatement of the century.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, trying to regulate your breathing as your ears started ringing as you stared at the man you adored.

Your eyes widened as you watched Harry kneel down on one knee and pull out a small velvet box from his pocket. "(Y/N), will you marry me?"

Marriage.

Harry wanted you to be his wife.

You could barely see him through the tears that were falling from your eyes, but you could make out that he was crying as well.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you nodded vigorously.

“Yes, yes, of course, I will!" You exclaimed, throwing your arms around Harry’s neck.

Once the two of you broke away from the hug, he slipped the ring from the box onto your finger, both hands shaking from the adrenaline currently coursing through their body.

The two of you embraced tightly, feeling each other's heartbeat as the gentle breeze swirled around you. For you and Harry, this moment felt like the beginning of forever.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

August, 2014 — I do.

You took in a deep breath as you stood at the end of the altar next to your father, your arm linked with his as your other hand held a bouquet of flowers.

When the familiar chords of one of your and Harry’s favourite songs rang out throughout the small registery office that the two of you had decided to get wed at, that was when you realised that this was really happening.

You were getting married.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Your father asked you, head tilted to the side.

You took in a hesitant small breath as you nodded at the words your father had just spoken. “Honestly, this is as ready as I’ll ever be.”

He nodded his head at your words before opening the doors to the side of the room, your breath hitched in your throat.

Your groom lifted his head when he heard whispers filling up the room and that was all the clarification he needed to know that you were present.

He hesitantly lifted his head and salt water instantly filled his orbs.

You looked astonishing.

It felt as if it was just the two of you in the room, your eyes remained locked on each other as you got closer and closer, the moment was pure and heartwarming.

Harry’s curls had grown out since your engagement on the pier so they were pushed back by a simple headband, so they didn’t block his view of you and he was adorning a suit of black colour, a white frilled shirt underneath as a thin silk black tie hung around his neck.

Your wedding dress was what you had always dreamed your dress would look like on your special day. It was Lacey and hung loosely to your figure in certain areas, flowers embroidered the sleeves and around your collar.

As your heel clad feet came to a stop by your soon to be husband, your father left a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, before taking a seat at the front two next to your mother as well as Harry’s parents and sister.

Your hand slipped into Harry’s and he rubbed soft circles on the back of it to reassure you that everything was going to be okay.

“You look beautiful, m’love.”Harry whispered as his own eyes filled with more tears.

The officiant glanced around at the people around you that were gathered in the small room before clearing his throat and beginning to speak.

“(Y/N) and Harry have decided to write their own vows as a declaration of there love for one another as well as there marriage,” the man began, looking down at the notes in his hands.

You and Harry locked gazes with each other and both offered each other a small smile, this was really happening.

“God, Harry I don’t even know where to begin,”you looked down at the piece of paper in your hand that was filled with your handwriting.

“— just for this day, I had to Google what the definition of a soulmate was but then I realised I didn’t have to. You were the definition. Plain and Simple. When we first met our first conversation was me asking you for directions, but over the past three years of getting to know you and fall continuously in love with you, I have come to known that you have showed me new directions of life, directions I didn’t think I would see unless I hadn’t of met you. You continue to make me proud and that’s one of the main reasons I love you.”

You glanced up at him when you had finished reading your vows and watched as a single tear rolled down his cheek.

Harry turned to look at the small gathering of people you had invited to be here for this special moment, and a wet chuckle fell from his lips. “How on earth am I supposed to beat that?”

He turned back to look at you, unfolding a piece of paper from his shit pocket and starting to read aloud. “— My sweet girl, m’love, when we first started dating, straight from the get go I had promised to cherish you from then on out, from our first meeting you instantly captured my heart, you’ve made me a better person, and for that I simply can’t thank you enough, your all I ever want and more, I love you and will continue to love you as long as my heart remains beating.”

There was definitely not a dry eye in sight when Harry had finished reading.

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), do you take Harry Edward Styles to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward?”

“I do.”

“And do you Harry Edward Styles take (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward?”

“Of course I bloody do!”

Harry’s best man, his stepfather Robin Twist steps forward from where he’s sat next to Anne, offering both of you the rings.

The ring slipped onto Harry’s finger effortlessly.

His hands worked delicately to slip yours on.

The officiant smiled adoringly. “— with the power invested in me, I now declare you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride!”

Harry didn’t waste a second in bringing his lip balmed lips down against yours, as the taste of strawberry filled your senses, the kiss was one full of tenderness and love.

It was all official.

You were now Mrs. (Y/N) Styles.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

June 18th, 2015 — the delivery.

"I'm here!"

You looked up from the hospital bed you were currently laying on to see your husband run into the room, his eyes wide as he assessed the situation.

You were laid on the hospital bed, tears falling freely down your cheeks as your mother crouched at your bed side holding your hand and soothing you.

"H..Harry…"You spoke, voice coming out dry and hoarse.

The man rushed to your side, taking a hold of your hand and pushing some of the hair that had dried around your forehead out of your face. "— it's okay sweet girl, it's all okay. I'm here now"

Your mother gulped and looked down at the two of you. "I'll wait outside, give the two of you some space"the older women turned to look at her daughter. "You've got this (Y/N)"

Got what exactly?

Let’s answer that question.

You and Harry never really got to have a proper honeymoon after your wedding, due to the fact he was touring and didn’t have enough time to change the plans when they surrounded the band and management.

So almost six months ago, the band had decided to go on a little break near Christmas time so that they could spend the new years at home with their families and so you and Harry went back to holmes chapel.

And on Christmas Eve, the two of you christened the night and an explosion of love was formed.

You got pregnant.

And now, not even near the full term of pregnancy, your waters had broken when you were on a coffee date with your mother, your nerves were heightened especially when you had four months left in your pregnancy.

Once your mother had left the room, you turned to look at your husband, swallowing roughly. "I can't do it Harry..it's too early..they're not gonna make it!"

"Don't think like that, everything's going to be fine, I promise.” and with that he pressed a kiss to your damp cheek, grabbing ahold of your hand and rubbing the back of it softly.

Suddenly, you pinched her eyes shut and let out one of the most ear piercing painful cries Harry had ever heard, his heart beating erratically against his rib cage.

He stood up. "— I'm going to go and get some help alright..i'll be back as soon as possible"

He ran out of the room his wife was in and towards the reception area, his eyes landing on nurses who were sat there talking away. "— I need some help..my wife's having our baby"

You were clutching your stomach when Harry sprinted back into the room and resumed his position next to you, the nurses coming in followed by a doctor all smiling at you in the bed.

"Hi Mrs Styles, my names Dr Armstrong and I'll be helping you deliver your baby today, to make this experience as calm as possible, I'm going to need you to lift up your legs for me so I can check how dilated you are"

"You've got this"Harry whispered, his lips pressed against the shell of your ear.

You hesitated for a few seconds due to the fact the only person that had ever looked between your legs was harry, and the thought of any other man seemed daunting, but after Harry gave you a gentle look you slowly raised your legs up so they were bent on the bed and watched with watery eyes as the doctor slipped some latex gloves on his hand before slowly placing his hands between your legs.

The doctor then pulled his hands back, Harry letting his eyes fall on the blood on the top of the gloves, the doctor muttering a few things to the nurses, who then walked over to the other side of the room and started picking up blankets and towels.

What was happening?

"Mrs Styles, Mr Styles"the doctor cleared his throat. "— this probably isn't what the two of you were expecting but this baby is coming rather fast, and when I say fast I mean very, very fast"

Harry gulped and shook his head. "But she's only five months, surely that's not right"

The doctor smiled at the soon to be father. "That is very soon yes sir, but I have delivered babies much sooner than five months, and if we do everything right and take our time everything should be fine, I assure you"

The words just made your throat go even more dry, like sandpaper upon hearing that you were ten centimetres dilated and was soon going to be having the baby which just sent a sense

of dread to vibrate throughout your body.

"I don't want to do this Harry," You cried. "I don't want to do this..I can't"

Harry stroked a hand through your hair that was sticking to your forehead. "— you can do this sweet girl, I know you can, wouldn't have put our sweet baby in you if I didn't"

You nodded your head with all the energy that you could muster up and sat up a little bit further in the bed, your tight grip on Harry’s hand only getting tighter.

"Okay Mrs Styles, give me a nice gentle push."the doctor instructed, the nurses coming over to be on standby.

The next contraction hits your body and you ground your teeth together as you push, putting all the counter pressure in your hips.

Pushing kind of felt like when you were going to the toilet, only this was much more painful.

Tears continued to slide down your cheeks, Harry’s slightly calloused hands rubbing across her own as his own eyes welled with tears seeing the girl he loved and adored in so much pain.

"That was so good Mrs Styles,"the doctor complimented. "You're doing so well, repeat what you just did for me when your next contraction occurs, okay?"

Harry kissed your temple, just as another contraction ripped through your body, making it feel as though you were on fire.

"I can see the head."

The voices were numb to your ears, seeing as you were too busy focusing on pushing, your teeth were gritted together as your head was tucked down to your chest.

"We're so close to meeting them Sweet girl, so close,"Harry encouraged, looking in the eyes of his wife whose eyes were black.

The usual colour were filled with a pain filled black.

"The next push and you should have your baby, give me a big push Mrs Styles."

You pushed, this one feeling much longer than the others, keeping a white knuckle grip on Harry’s hand.

And that's when you heard it.

A cry filled the room, a literal babies cry.

Your and Harry’s babies cry.

"Is everything okay?"Harry quizzed, not removing his hand from your sweaty grasp.

You watched as the doctor nodded his head, letting his eyes flicker from between the two. "— congratulations Mr and Mrs Styles, you have a beautiful baby boy."

A boy.

You had a son.

A beautiful baby boy who was your’s forever.

"Would you like some skin to skin contact with your son, Mrs Styles?"Dr Armstrong asked, holding the baby in his arms.

"Yes please."You answered, perhaps a bit too quickly.

The doctor walked forward and gently laid the baby against your bare chest, moving the hospital gown out of the way.

The second your sweet baby boy was placed against your chest, you couldn't help but loud out a few cries.

Sobs even.

It may have been a bit earlier than the two of you expected, but now you simply wouldn't change it for the world.

The Styles were complete.

Harry couldn't help but let a tear fall down his cheeks, not bothering to wipe it away.

This is all he had worked for, and now it was finally here he couldn't be happier.

"Do we have a name?"one of the nurses asked, smiling at the sight of the mother holding the baby.

You locked eyes with Harry. "You tell them sweet boy"

Harry swallowed and nodded his head, not letting his eyes falter from the baby boy attached to his wife's bare chest.

"August,"he spoke. "— August Harry Styles."

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

July 2nd, 2015 — the announcement.

As Harry Styles sat down for his interview, his long hair cascaded down his shoulders as he sat with the rest of the boys on the James Corden Show, a striped shirt hugging his body made of different shades of blue silk, with some black skinny jeans and a pair of chelsea boots.

He greeted James with a warm smile and sat down in the middle of Niall and Louis, he couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. It had been a while since he had spoken to the press, and he knew that they would have a lot of questions for him.

The first few questions were easy enough - how was his music career going? What were his plans for the future? But then, James asked him the question he had been dreading.

A question regarding his son.

Harry couldn’t be mad at James, it was his job after all and he knew for a fact that it was bound to come up one day, James was his friends, he wasn’t alone in the interview seeing as he was surrounded by his band mates, so he didn’t really have a factor to worry about.

"Harry, there have been rumours circulating that you have a son. Can you confirm or deny these rumours?"

Harry took a deep breath and looked directly into the camera. "I can confirm that the rumours are true," he said, his voice steady.

The host raised an eyebrow. "Can you tell us more about your son? How old is he?"

"He's just a baby," Harry replied, not wanting to really give away much about him. "I don't want to get into too many details, but he's the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me."

And it was true.

Just over three weeks ago, little Auggie flew into there lives and made them just that much better than they already were.

The sleepless nights brought the two of you closer,

Nappy changes brought the two of you closer,

And baby sick made the two of you closer.

The interview continued, but Harry's mind was elsewhere. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had just revealed a major secret. What would people think of him now that they knew he was a father?

But when Harry left the studio and checked his phone, he was overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support from his fans.

They sent him messages telling him how happy they were for him and how much they respected him for being honest.

In the end, Harry realised that being a dad was nothing to be ashamed of - it was something to be proud of. And with his fans by his side, he knew he could handle anything that came his way.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

25th May, 2023 — tour life.

Touring with your husband whilst he completed his last leg of tour was something you would never get over.

Especially now that you had two little munchkins touring with you, it made you think of all the different places the two of them would get to visit at such young ages.

Your little August was weeks away from turning seven and recently you had welcomed a little girl into the family, well not really recently.

A little girl named Margot.

Margot ‘gigi’ Anne Styles.

Touring was amazing, you got to spend all day surrounded by the people you adored to the end of the earths.

You were currently in Edinburgh.

And the two of you had woken up early due to your teething newborn and decided to head down to the hotel gym whilst it wasn’t busy and get in a little workout alongside your husband to try and get your body back to its pre baby shape.

Whilst you got ready and pumped some milk that Margot would be eating later, Harry had taken the kids down to the gym with him and told you to meet him there as that would be easier.

It really was.

As you walked into the gym, your eyes instantly landed on your husband Harry who was on a treadmill, already working up a sweat.

Seeing him working out always seemed to do something to you, and you have no idea why.

Maybe it was because you liked the look of the way the sweat would be rolling down his skin and making it sticky.

Or the way his hair stuck to his temple making him even look more delicious.

Almost ten years of marriage and you still got fireworks erupting your body whenever you were in his presence.

You smiled to yourself as you made your way over to him.

"Hey there good looking," You greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, making him freeze slightly before registering that it was you and smiling softly to himself.

"Hey m’love," he replied, slowing down the treadmill to join you, he leant over the handles of the machine and leaned down so that you were the same height.

"How's it going?"

"It's good. I’m knackered, but it’s good,Just trying to keep in shape for our little ones," he said, pointing to your son August, who was playing in the corner and drawing in his notebook, whilst your eight-month-old daughter Margot, who was asleep in her stroller, thumb in her mouth and head pulled to the side.

"I know what you mean. It's crazy how much our lives have changed since we got married," You answered, wiping down the machine before hopping on and starting up on the treadmill with a brisk walk.

"Yeah, it's wild to think about. But I wouldn't change a thing. We have a beautiful family and I'm so proud of everything we've accomplished," he said, glancing over at the kids, a smile involuntarily making its way onto his face.

"Me too," You agreed, adjusting my speed so that you were now in a slow jog. "Sometimes I can't believe we went from being just two kids in love to parents of two."

It really did blow your mind sometimes.

You remember the first time that you met Harry and your nerves skyrocketed. You were new to the school and knew absolutely no one, so when you and him became friends, it was like the two of you were meant to be.

But now, through all the good and the bad, the two of you had made it out on top, through all the hate from his fans, and all the hardships you now had the most perfect family, one that you would be able to cherish for the rest of your life.

"I know, right? But we make it work and we make each other better. And that's all that matters," Harry leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek before hopping back into his workout mode, matching your pace on the machine.

The two of you continued to work out, talking about the things you normally would, like what dreams you had during the night and what you wanted to do the day before his tour.

“I was thinking we could take the kids to a cafe for lunch today,” You suggested, taking a break on the machine to take a sip out of your water bottle. “— I was thinking it would be something different, I don’t want the kids to get bored, y’know?”

Harry pondered the idea for a second before nodding his head. “Yeah, sounds like a good idea.”

It wasn’t long before you were all heading out for cafe.

It was a warm and sunny afternoon when you l, Harry and the kids approached the cosy little cafe in the heart of the Scottish city.

After your little gym session this morning, you and Harry had both gone back to the hotel room, had some showers and then got yourselves and the kids ready.

Harry was wearing a dark grey t-shirt with some pastel coloured designs on the front of it, blue ripped jeans hugging his legs accessorised with a pair of blue and white chequered vans, a blue cap and his iconic white bug eyed sunglasses over his face.

Harry had gotten Margot ready this morning, as you were in the shower. She was wearing a dark green romper, with a nice white bow headband pushing her curls out of her face, some knee high white socks adorning her feet.

After making sure that August was ready, his outfit consisted of a beige coloured oversized shirt, a cap on his hat so that he could match his daddy and a cap so he could match his daddy, and a pair of black shorts on his legs.

Once all of the kids were ready, it was then your time to get ready for the day. You shifted through the suitcase containing your clothes and decided on a simple outfit. It consisted of a pink oversized jumper paired with a matching pink pair of cycling shorts, some sunglasses and a pair of trainers on your feet.

It seemed like forever until you were all ready to leave the room.

As you made your way inside the cafe, you could see August's eyes light up with excitement as he eyed the pastry display case.

A worker greeted the four of you as you approached the counter, pulling your sunglasses up so that they were resting on the top of your head.

Your little boy turned to look at you with puppy dog eyes. "Mommy, can I have a chocolate croissant?"

"Sure, sweetie,” You nodded your head, adjusting your hands that were resting on the stroller handles as they were getting a bit sweaty. “— But just one, okay?"

You really didn’t want to deal with him having a stomach ache if he ate too many Pan Au Chocolates.

All the food sounded so good.

"I think I'm going to get a sandwich,” Your Husband spoke.

“What about you, baby?" Your husband spoke up, looking at the menu that was hung above your heads.

"I'll have a panini, I think,” You told him, turning to look at him and offering him a small smile. “And Margot is just going to have some pureed veggies."

You placed our order and then proceeded to sit down at a cosy table by the window, the sun beating through the windows. Little Margot comfortably nestled in her stroller beside you and Harry whilst August sat on the other side of the round table so that he was also next to both of you.

It was filled with small talk whilst you waited for your order to arrive at the table, the Scottish weather really was amazing this time of year.

"Daddy, did you know that I spelt a really big word with Mrs. Addams today?" August piped up, leaning forward in his seat eagerly.

August was coming up to seven so that meant that he would have already started school, but due to the fact you and the kids were touring the world with Harry that means he wasn’t able to go to school as much as he would have liked.

So in order for him to continue his studies, you and Harry both agreed that a teacher coming on tour with the two of you would be what’s best, and so far it’s been really good.

There’s been times where August’s kicked off about being too tired to learn but Harry being his father just learns that he inherited his stubbornness.

August was definitely a daddy’s boy through and through, in personality and appearance, he definitely had a little bit of separation anxiety when it came to Harry, but that was totally plausible due to the fact he was away for work quite a lot.

When Margot came into the world, she completed your family, she filled a void that the three of you didn’t know were missing and made your hearts just that much fuller.

Both children were spitting images of their father, you wouldn’t think that you were the one that carried them at all.

They both had his iconic brown curls (Auggie’s were a bit more longer due to the fact he had seen a photo of Harry with long hair and insisted he grow it out.) they had his green eyes that you fell in love with, and had his dimples and bunny teeth.

“Really? That's amazing!” Your husband gushed, reaching forward to fist bump his son with a proud smile on his face. “— What word did you spell?"

"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!"

"Wow, that's quite a mouthful,”Harry leaned forward to press a kiss against his mini me’s forehead. “I'm proud of you, buddy."

August smiled at his fathers words before you all began to chat about something else.

As the four of you chatted and waited for your food to arrive, Margot began to fuss and squirm in her stroller.

"Looks like someone's getting hungry,” You went to stand up and go to her aid, her veggie purée that was in the baby bag under the stroller. “Let me get her a bottle."

"I can do it, love,” Harry grabbed a hold of your wrist softly, and stood himself up to approach the stroller “You stay here and eat. I'll take care of Gigi."

You smiled gratefully at your husband as he took Margot out of her stroller and sat her down on his lap as he started feeding her the purée you had made this morning in the hotel room while August and you chatted about what he wanted to do for the rest of the day.

As you finished your lunch, Harry chuckled and began to speak, "I don't think I've ever been surrounded by this much cuteness before."

That was true, your kids were the absolute cutest and the two of you weren’t biassed at all.

“And we wouldn't have it any other way." You sighed contentedly, they were your entire world, without the kids and Harry you're not sure what you would be doing right now.

With full bellies and happy hearts, you gathered your things and headed back out into the bustling city, ready to take on the rest of the day together as a family.

As you left the cafe in Edinburgh, you watched as Harry pushed Margot’s stroller, and held August’s hand so that he was close to you. You could see the fans waiting outside, and knew that you had to be careful.

As you made your way to the car, the fans started to call out your husband's name. "We love you, Harry!" they would shout.

You could feel August's grip on your hand tightening. He was scared, and you didn't blame him. You had been going out with Harry for thirteen years and still his fans didn’t cease to make you anxious. But you knew that you had to keep moving, to show that August couldn’t be scared because he would be scared if you were.

You reached the car, and Harry quickly put Margot in her car seat. August climbed into the back, and I got into the passenger seat, whilst Harry got in the driver's seat. As you drove away, you could see the fans in the rearview mirror, still calling out your husband's name.

"Mommy, why do they want to see daddy?" August asked, you could hear a slight quiver in his voice.

You offered him a gentle smile as you turned back to look at him in the backseat, his hand was holding onto his Sister’s,"Because he's a very talented singer, Auggie. A lot of people love his music."

August nodded, and you could see that he was starting to relax. You knew that it was going to be a long tour, but you were determined to keep your family safe and happy.

As Harry drove through the streets of Paris, you could feel the excitement building in the air. Harry’s husband's tour was going to be huge, and you

Knew that he was going to be amazing. But you also knew that it was going to be hard on all of you.

"Mommy, can we listen to daddy’s music?" August asked from the backseat.

"Of course, sweet boy," Harry enthusiastically reached forward, turning on the radio. Adore You came on, and I could see August's face light up.

"Your so good," August exclaimed, “— your the bestest singer in the whole wide world!” He was tapping his foot to the beat.

You and Harry both smiled, You were feeling proud of your husband and his talent. But also knew that being a pop star wasn't easy. There were always fans waiting outside, always paparazzi trying to get a photo.

You and your family arrived back at the hotel, and you quickly got Margot out of her car seat whilst Harry picked August up, although he was almost seven years old almost, he still like a cuddle.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

May 26th, 2023 — late night talking.

“Can you believe it's been almost ten years since we got married?" You asked Harry as you lifted up his hand to play with the wedding band sitting around his ring finger.

You laid in bed with Harry in Edinburgh, after his show and the two of you were absolutely knackered.

His show was incredible like it always was, he got the crowd going like always and brought a smile on not just your face and the children’s faces but every fan's face in the stadium.

He was in everybody's safe space.

You had put the kids to bed earlier and had both shared a shower together before crawling into bed and snuggling up against one another like always.

Harry chuckled and replied, "I know, it feels like yesterday. We were so young and naive back then."

You smiled up at him, shifting on your side and placing a hand on his naked torso (he liked to sleep in just his boxers), "But look at us now, we have a beautiful family and a great life."

Harry nodded his head. "Yeah, we've come a long way. I'm proud of us."

You looked at Harry, "Remember when we used to talk about having kids? We were so scared."

Harry laughed, "Yeah, we were clueless. But now we have August and Margot, and I’d like to say we're doing just fine."

Parenting was definitely hard at times, but you and Harry always worked together to make sure that everything was going smoothly at all times, you both agreed you didn’t want your kids growing up in a household where there was animosity.

You grinned,pecking a kiss to his chest, "August is growing up so fast. He's already six years old."

Where had the time gone?

Where was your itty bitty five pound baby?

"I know, it's crazy,” Harry nodded, rubbing a hand up and down your back in a soft manner. “—And Margot is already eight months old. Time really does fly."

You sighed contentedly, "I'm so grateful for you and our family. We've been through so much, but we always come out stronger."

Harry smiled lovingly at you, pressing a soft kiss to your nose, "That's what love does. It makes us stronger."

It was true.

You and Harry always came out stronger when the two of you had a little disagreement, and that’s what made your relationship worth while.

You and Harry continued talking, reminiscing on your lives, feeling grateful for their life together. You knew that you had both come a long way, but if there was one thing you were looking forward too, it was to see what the future for their family.

"Are you okay?" You asked Harry as you noticed him struggling to keep his eyes open.

Harry shook his head, "I'm just feeling a bit tired today. I didn't get much sleep last night due to Gigi teething and the routings just started to get to me, nothing that a good nights sleep can’t fix.”

Yoy looked at Harry with concern, "Why didn't you tell me? Tonight, when the baby monitor goes off, I’m going to get Margot, I don’t care if you insist I sleep, I’m going, you need to be well rested.”

Harry smiled at you once again, yawning shortly before. "Thank you. But I wanted you to get some rest too. You've been working so hard lately."

You felt touched by Harry's words.

You knew that he was always looking out for you, even when he was struggling himself.

“Let’s try and get some shut eye.” You turned to the left and switched off your lamp on the bedside table before turning back around and snuggling into your husband's chest once again.

This was definitely your favourite sleeping position. His arms made you feel safe, as if no harm could ever come to you or the kids.

“I love you.” Harry spoke, looking down at you and puckering his lips slightly.

“And I love you, darling,” You replied, pressing one last goodnight kiss to his lips. “— from here to eternity?”

“From here to eternity.”

[goldsainz]

AMBAR’S 2K CELEBRATION!

NAVIGATION.

NOTE: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT!!!! words can’t quite describe how i’m feeling rn, i’ve had this account for some time but a little over a year ago i started posting about my writing. having 2k of you here… following me… it’s everything and much more!! all of your support, comments, reblogs or even just likes, truly do make my day bc writing is something i enjoy and to have other enjoy it and follow me for it is just incredibly special. so to celebrate i made this celebration post bc why not 🫶 request as much as you’d like!!

from august 4th to aug 24th (closed)

GAMES!

🧸 — ask me for media recs! (movies, music, fics, etc)

🎥 — ask me any question you want and i’ll answer truthfully! (be respectful about it) example.

💌 — send me a driver + a prompt/trope and i’ll make a short playlist with it!

📸 — i’ll make a moodboard based on how i view your blog!

🍾 — fmk, kmk, would you rather… send me any type of game you’d like!

WRITING!

✒️ — send me a prompt from one of these 1 (fluff) & 2 (angsty) and i’ll write a small blurb based on it!

📀 — send me a song + a driver and i’ll write a short insta au based on it!

mutuals: @lorarri @ay7ton @colie-nne @curiousthyme @crueisummer @fxxkemall @fleetwooods @finelinevogue @ferrari-tears @f1version @fxllfaiiry @gucciwins @holllandtrash @i-care-4u @lewdopodium @londonharry @love-belle @myysaints @lxclerc @lecsainz @monzabee @monzamash @milaeth @norrisleclercf1 @percervall @remainofthesun @redclercs @silverstonesainz @starkwlkr @satanhalsey @supersainz @sue @saintslewis @thatsdemko @userlando @vamossainz55 @vanishingcherry

[finelinevogue]

something in the orange

summary - you are harry’s ex and you happen to rekindle at his sisters wedding

word count - ~2k

pairing - ex-boyfriend!harry x reader

🌞✨🌟🌞✨🌟🌞✨🌟🌞✨🌟🌞✨🌟🌞

It wasn’t a complete surprise that your ex-boyfriend was at his sisters wedding, but nonetheless you were still shocked to see him.

You had been friends with Gemma, your exes sister, way before you were dating her brother, Harry, which is probably the main and only reason you had been invited to her wedding.

Gemma and her family were still very nice towards you, even though you broke their Harry’s heart.

Well for the most part.

You had been sat on a table at the back of the reception room for the evening meal, with a couple of distant friends of the groom. You had been trying to make small talk as best you could, but your little introverted heart could only try so hard.

“Are you staying in Italy after the wedding?” You asked a man called Gordon who was sat next to you, with his girlfriend.

“No.”

He then went back to talking to his girlfriend.

You took a sip of your mocktail, glancing around the room to enjoy the happiness of others.

Gemma was happily chatting with Michal, her now husband, whilst Anne, Gemma’s mum, was arguing with one of the chefs that the cake had to be ready in ten minutes. It was quite funny to watch Anne get angry, considering she’s the loveliest person on the planet.

You noticed Harry, of course you did.

He hadn’t looked your way once, or if he had he’d been so discreet about it that he was making you feel invisible.

You didn’t blame him for keeping his distance, after all you had broken his heart. It was a surprise you had even been invited, but friends first and all that.

He looked good.

He looked better than good, he looked ridiculously pretty.

Harry was dressed in a black tuxedo with a bow tie that had now been untucked and was loosely hanging around his neck. He looked tanned and well. He looked happy, you thought.

You turned to a girl next to you and tried to start conversation with her.

“How are you enjoying the Amalfi Coast?” You smiled.

“It’s nice.” She smiled back before turning to speak to whoever was next you.

It wasn’t particularly nice having the people on your table kind of ignore you, but then again they didn’t know you and had no reason to get to know you.

You ate your meal in silence as you simple people watched.

It was nice seeing familiar faces, even if yours was one they’d rather not see.

Once you had finished, people had started to get up to go and dance on the little dance floor on the terrace. It was laden with fairy lights strung high above, along with an abundance of citronella candles that casted a warm orange glow over the area.

You watched as some couples slow danced. A little girl had a dance competition with her dad. Gemma and Michal busted whatever shapes they were doing.

“Have you finished, ma’am?” A waiter asked you, breaking you away from watching the evening continue without you.

“Oh yes. Thank you, it was really lovely.”

“Our pleasure.” They smiled at you, before cleaning up.

You fiddled with your fingers as you watched more and more people get up on the dance floor to enjoy their evening.

You pushed your chair back then, deciding to go to the toilet before you made the decision whether or not to join people out on the terrace.

The wedding location was gorgeous.

A beautiful historical hotel, overrun with flowers cascading down the stone walls, that was built into the cliffside along the Amalfi Coast.

It was no surprise that the wedding was here, considering Gemma and Harry called Southern Italy their second home. Harry had taken you to his house in Maiori multiple times when you had been together and you completely understood why he loved this area.

You missed going to that house. The crazy adventures you’d get up to.

You missed Harry.

You locked yourself in a cubicle before you could make yourself upset over it.

You’d just finished up when you heard some people walk in.

“Did you see Y/Ns here?” They said, but you couldn’t work out who they were - at least it wasn’t someone you recognised.

“Yeah. Wonder why.” You didn’t recognise the second persons voice either.

“Fucking ballsy if you ask me.” They both laughed. “If I’d cheated on my best-friends brother and still been invited to her wedding, I wouldn’t go.”

“Did Y/N cheat on Harry? I heard that she had a mental breakdown when he stopped buying stuff for her and stopped taking her on expensive holidays.”

You sat down on the toilet lid, not finding the courage to go out there and speak up for yourself.

“No. Pretty sure she cheated. Doesn’t surprise me though, she always was a little bit… different.”

“You mean, not model worthy?!” They both laughed again.

You carefully and silently ripped off some toilet paper before using it to dab the tears that were falling from your eyes and down your cheeks.

It was tough, trying to not take things to heart but you were a sensitive person. This didn’t make you a bad person, in fact it just meant that you carried extra love around with you.

It hurt when other people couldn’t see that when you tried to live with your heart on your sleeve as much as you could.

“God… Wonder why she came?”

“Probably to prove that she’s not the bitch everyone thinks she is.”

“Yeah.”

“Harry hasn’t even spoken to her.”

“Weren’t they together for like five years.”

6 years and 3 months, you thought to yourself.

Best 6 years and 3 months of your life.

“Something like that.”

“Poor Harry.”

“Yeah. Must’ve been rough for him.”

“Means he is single though.”

“Wonder whether he’s ready to mingle.” They both laughed again, before leaving the toilets discussing their plan to make Harry see them.

You finished dabbing your eyes free of tears, breathing out a heavy breath before standing up and heading to the sinks to freshen up.

You patted your cheeks with water to cool you down and looked at yourself in the mirror with a smile.

You are okay. You thought to yourself. You know what they said isn’t true. You are a good person.

Once you’d collected yourself, you left the bathroom.

If you headed right you would find yourself back in the main room heading towards the terrace, but it you went left it would lead you to some stone steps carved into the cliff wall that lead down to a private beach.

Of course you headed left.

The night sky was burning a deep orange from where the sun was setting. You couldn’t wait for the stars. Stargazing had always been yours and Harry’s favourite pastime - it grounded you whilst simultaneously reminding you how grateful that you’d found each other in all of this.

The stairs were easy to walk down, even in wedge sandals.

It took you a good fifteen minutes to climb down, but the second your toes felt the cooling sand you knew it had been worth it. Would it be worth the climb back up? Hmm…

You crossed the beach, smiling when you realised you were the only one down here in this small alcove of a beach.

The waves moved in slowly, making that euphoric crashing sound as they folded over and onto the sand.

The water was turning a darker blue under the setting sun, but you knew in the daytime it would be a crystal clear blue - perfect for swimming or snorkelling.

You sat on the beach, toeing off your sandals and resting them beside you.

You pulled your knees up to your chin, hugging your arms around your legs as you sat and watched the waves crash again and again. There was something so therapeutic about it.

As you watched on you couldn’t help but think back to the conversation those girls were having in the toilet.

You didn’t realise what people thought about you being your back. It stung to think people were thinking such horrible things.

The moment your eyes started watering again you knew that what they’d been saying about you hadn’t really registered until now - in the quiet on your own. It hadn’t fully clicked that everyone now perceived you as this horrible, bitch of a woman that broke the heart of a man who is loved by millions.

You sniffled, looking up at the sky to hold back the onrush of any more tears.

“Here.”

“Holy fucking….” You scrambled from where you were sitting and jumped up to find Harry standing beside you, “Harry… My…”

You put your hand over your heart, having been scared shitless from him unintentionally creeping up on you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.”

You then realised he was still holding out his handkerchief for you - the one you thought had been pretend from his suit pocket.

“It’s okay, thank you.” You took this handkerchief and wiped under your eyes with it, dabbing your nose too. “I didn’t realise you were down here, sorry. I’ll leave.”

You bent down to pick up your shoes, but were stopped when Harry gently bent his wrist around yours.

“Please don’t.”

You felt like you had stopped breathing.

Harry’s soft touch against your skin nearly made your heart cave inside your chest. You felt like time had stopped, but you wouldn’t care if you only ever got to see Harry in this moment, in this frame, for ever and ever.

The way the setting sun casted a golden hew against his skin made him prettier than anyone Michelangelo could sculpt. His eyes were just as green and perfect as always, if only with a little extra sadness spreading at the corners.

And those lips.

Well you only wished they were still yours to kiss.

“I don’t…” You started, not moving your hand away from his. “You don’t want me here.” You whispered, tucking your head down.

You missed the way he shook his head softly, furrowing his eyebrows with frustration.

Harry stepped closer to you, making you apprehensively look up again. He was so pretty.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop thinking I don’t want you around. Stop thinking that I never want to see you again. Stop believing that you have done something wrong. Stop thinking that you aren’t still the most important person in my life.” Harry’s eyes were now tearing up.

You shook your head, pulling your hand from his carefully.

“I.. I can’t.. sorry.”

“Y/N…”

You were about to run across the beach, away from Harry when his call stopped you.

“Y/N, no.”

Your feet froze and you turned around slowly to see him standing in place, ever so slightly shaking his head.

“Just no.” He said.

“I… I don’t understand.” You said.

“The last time you ran away, I let you.” Harry said, as you tried to refrain from thinking back to the last time it had been like this.

“I know.”

“Well, I’m not about to make that mistake again.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at that, bottom lip pouting which Harry always used to tease you about.

You stood still, your breath catching when he started moving towards you. You couldn’t move. You were frozen to the spot, like some force of nature wasn’t allowing you to move.

“The last time I let you walk out of my life was the biggest mistake I ever made. I should’ve tried harder - I should’ve begged you to stay, God knows I wanted you to.”

“Harry, please don’t say things you don’t mean…”

“What don’t you get, Y/N/N?” Harry stopped short of you, confused about how you couldn’t quite grasp what he was trying to tell you.

“You don’t want me to stay.”

“What—.”

“You don’t need me to stay.”

“Y/N…”

“No, H, listen to me.” You confidently took a step forwards towards him, still leaving a good enough space between you. “I can’t put you through another breakup like that again.. I… I don’t even think either of us have properly gotten over the last one. I meant what I said and did last time and I still mean it now.”

“Well fuck that. You don’t get to say things like that.”

“Harry…”

“No. Fuck!” Harry shouted, combing a hand through his hair like he did when he was stressed. “Do you understand how much you hurt me?”

You weren’t expecting him to ask you that, so you took a tiny step back in shock. You bravely answered, “Yes.”

“And do you know why?” His eyes were watering now.

“Yes.”

“So tell me.”

“Har—.”

“Just.. humour me and tell me.”

“You were hurt because I broke up with you. You were hurt because I gave up on over six years. You were hurt because I was cruel.”

Your voice was shaky but you stood strong, not wanting to guilt trip Harry into feeling sorry for you.

“No.” He replied. “No. I was hurt because the woman I love, the woman I was only weeks away from getting down on one knee for, broke up with me because she decided she wasn’t worth me loving. Not that she didn’t love me anymore, no, but because she felt unworthy of my love.”

Your eyes started free flowing with tears then as you stood and listened to him speak. Everything he was saying was true but it didn’t make it any more comfortable to hear back.

“I was hurt because I thought we could talk about things like that before the progressed into something we could never come back from. I was hurt because you chose to listen to all the sick and twisted voiced in your head, rather than the one voice that actually mattered; mine. I was hurt because you didn’t communicate. I had to find out from my sister that you were being abused online by, not only my fans, but close girl friends of mine over their jealousy. And I had to find out from my mum that yours had passed away a few weeks before you broke up with me.”

You let out a sob then, everything crashing around in your mind. Too many thoughts and too little left of you to put them all back together.

“Y/N, love, I was hurt because I was there for you when you didn’t believe I could be.”

“I’m sorry.” You sobbed out before your knees gave way and you dropped onto the beach beneath you, crying your what was left of your heart out.

Everything from your breakup, to the hate and losing your mum, the grief had all been collecting inside of your head and it was only now that you felt safe enough to let it all go.

You caved in on yourself, cupping your hands over your face.

It only took a couple of seconds for Harry to collapse onto the floor beside you, scooping your body up in his arms so he could pull you close into his chest. Your chest heaved as you cried, and you could only just hear Harry calming you down with a few ‘sshh’ and the occasional kiss to your forehead.

You kept repeating ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again, not really knowing who you were apologising to.

Harry? Your mum? Yourself?

“Sshh. You’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Harry kept repeating in between your apologies.

You let Harry hold you for what felt like hours, but was actually only five minutes, before you had calmed yourself down and you could breathe again.

You emerged from Harry’s hold and gave him a weak smile.

“Probably look like a right state after crying.” You laughed at yourself.

Harry cupped your cheek with his hand and softly ran his thumb there. “Still as pretty as the day I met you.”

“H, you met me when we were less than a year old. You don’t remember that.” You stifled a laugh.

“I don’t remember much, but I remember you.”

You dipped your head with a blush as he said that, his words still having that charming effect on you.

Harry dropped his hand from your cheek, but you were quick to hold it again with yours. You threaded your fingers through his and gave a tight squeeze. He squeezed back.

“I am really sorry, Harry.”

“I know.”

“I have a lot to be sorry for and I’ll find the strength to write you a list of them all one day.” You promised.

“Maybe we can write them together? Perhaps in a couples therapy?”

Your head shot up to meet his at the hearing of the word ‘couples’.

“You want…”

“I want you to be mine again. I may be selfish but screw it, I’m taking this chance to ask you whether, with the right help maybe, we could become us again?”

“Are you sure?” You moved closer to him, knees touching knees.

Here on this little beach, tucked away from the crowds of the party and the rest of the world you felt everything was right again. Almost like a haze had been lifted and you could see clearer now more than even what you wanted - who you wanted.

“Trust me.”

“I do. I promise, I do.”

“Maybe it’ll take some time, but I promise to be there for you, always, and take care of you like I promised your mum all those years ago.”

“You’ve always taken care of me, H. My mum would be proud of you.”

“Like she’s proud of you, too.”

“Don’t make me cry again.” You whispered, eyes locked on his so you could focus on something else other than the tears that wanted to spill.

“So was that a yes? Do you want to try again?”

“Ask me properly.” You leaned closer.

“Y/N L/N.” He said with a smirk.

“Yes.”

“Will you be my girlfriend… again?”

You burst out laughing over that, dropping your head onto his shoulder to hide your blushing face from his.

You smiled to yourself before answering.

“Yes,” You kissed his neck before sitting back up again, “Yes, yes, yes.”

And with the smile on Harry’s face as you gave him your answer you knew that you would be alright this time.

There was just something in the orange of that burning Italian sunset that told you, you and Harry were far from done. In fact, you’d only just started.

[finelinevogue]

this was EVERYTHINg!!! the dedication to writing a fic so beautiful and so complex, wow i’m so in awe of you and your writing! the fact you included so many interactions with so many artists was so refreshing. i loved every single moment! the dares were so funny and it was so clever to turn the moments we saw of harry into your own fiction!! i loved everything. you should be so proud, because this took me on a rollercoaster through all the feels <33

Harry pulling y/n on stage with him to honour her with his AOTY award!!!!!!😭😭😭😭🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

#myheartwillburst

GRAMMYS 2023

A/N: student teaching and uni work are really giving it to me so thank you all for being patient with me! 💚

SUMMARY: Highlights from the first award show that YN and Harry attend as a married couple.

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn, married ynrry

SINCE 2010 masterlist

As soon as Harry steps off his side of the Range Rover, he’s immediately extending his hand out to his wife. A loving smirk graces his face at the fact that over her pink embellished gloves, YN wears her wedding ring on her finger. This is the couple’s first major outing since they announced their new martial status online and being at the 65th Annual Grammy Awards only added to the excitement of the night. They’re easily the most anticipated guests of the night; it’s no question since every social media site and news article has named them the couple of the century. 

As usual, the couple first needs to take a couple pictures on the red carpet as individuals for promotal purposes before they can take some together. 

As they both take their stances at the red carpet, out of the corner of his eye, Harry can see how elegantly she poses for the screaming crowd of men in front of her. She smoothly shifts her head around the flashing lights with a smile that can make anyone’s knees weak. It’s difficult to not even spare a glance at her direction and in turn, YN can’t even hide the way she gives her husband loving looks. He looks absolutely amazing in his pastel patterned jumpsuit, possibly showing off more skin than she is but it’s not like anyone is complaining. 

When it’s their time to shift over a spot, YN playfully makes a shooing motion with her hands as he just stays there standing, full on gawking at her. He just shakes his head and pulls her to him and the blinding, flashing lights only increase as they capture the happy couple looking at one another like love-sick teenagers.

“Wait, then lemme stand on your left.”

“Why?” Harry questions as his love shuffles over to his other side, but a boyish smile overtakes his face at her response. 

“So I can show off me ring.”

She says it so nonchalantly before placing her hand on his tummy but her words cause such an impact for him. While she looks back towards the paparazzi, he just continues to stare at her that one can practically see the hearts in his eyes. For a good chunk of his life, he’s dreamed of a moment like this: just him and YN on the red carpet, head-over heels in love with each other, and their relationship out in the open. And they’re not here as bandmates, secret lovers, or any of that—they’re here married. Seeing the way her wedding ring sparkles from the flashing lights before them, he could almost cry from how happy he is. 

He can’t believe that this is his reality. So instead of questioning it further, of reminiscing in his daydream, he tugs her closer to his side and basks in this stomach flipping, butterfly-flapping feeling. 

...

“Oi, I know you!” YN beams at the curly haired photographer who did her Glambot for the past Grammy shows she’s attended.

“I know you,” Cole Walliser teases back as he watches the couple take the short steps up to the platform.

“V’brought a friend this time around,” She jokes and huffs out a laugh when she sees her husband’s dramatic, confused face. 

“Friend?”

“Alright, do you guys have any idea on what you both want to do? I think we need this one to be you two together.”

“We can do like, a serious pose that turns into a silly one?” YN suggests. 

“I love that idea! Alright, let’s do it,” The photographer claps his hand. “Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Styles.”

Harry brings YN over to stand closer beside him on the designated mark. With her back angled towards the camera, he places a hand on her exposed lower back while she places hers right where the fabric over his tummy ends. 

“Hear that, Mrs. Styles,” Harry says lowly in her ear, making her smile. “Friend my ass.”

“Alright, 3...2...1!”

As the camera moves quickly in front of them, the couple share the same ‘I own you’ face that their fans can’t get enough of. After a quick second, Harry breaks out into his dimply, open-mouth smile and his infamous peace sign. YN widely sticks her tongue out with her right eye scrunched closed.

...

“May the best man win,” Harry extends his hand out to her with a smirk. 

“Or woman,” His wife gives him a sly smirk of her own as she takes his hand in hers. She can’t help but give him a fond smile when he brings her hand to his mouth to place a gentle kiss on her knuckles. 

The couple’s nominations are mainly in the same categories. While they joke and jest about how they’re no winner or loosers, another part of them knows that their egos are just too big to not let their competitive sides simmer off to the side. 

Even then, as they announce that Harry’s House is the winner for Best Pop Album, nothing but pride and happiness overtakes YN for the man next to her. She’s practically a blubbering mess as she watches Harry take his second Grammy to add onto his shelf. 

“Making the album from start to finish has been the greatest experience of my life...aside from getting married, of course,” He huffs out a laugh while looking at his wife. The ceremony cameras turn to YN in between Lizzo and Adele. The two other women laugh and squeeze her a little tighter as she wipes away at the happy tears. 

“YN should be up here with me like I asked her to but she insisted that she was the competition so,” He teases as the audience chuckles. In all honesty, when he asked if she could come up with there with him if he were to win any of his categories, she told him that it’s his win, not hers. While she played a major part in making his music, she’d rather have all the attention, all the love, and all the cheering be for him. “From making it with two of my best friends and my YN to playing it to people has been the greatest joy I could have asked for...”

...

“Dare,” YN ultimately decides with a challenging raise of her eyebrow and a tempting smile.

As exciting as these awards shows can be, there are loads of downtime in between commercial breaks or stage performance set ups or even when the host begins to interact with one of the other celebrities in the audience. 

As a way to pass the time—and to help calm down their nerves for their upcoming categories—the couple has decided to play an innocent game of Truth or Dare. Well...as innocent as a game can get with the size of their egos. So far, Harry has been dared to cuss in his next acceptance speech, YN has admitted to running off to talk with Cardi B backstage instead of coming to be seated with Harry right away, and Harry revealed that had a wedgie the entire red carpet.

“I dare you to...” Her husband pinches at his bottom lip while his eyes scan the room. She eagerly watches as he looks to somewhere behind her and a dimpled smile overtakes his face. A giggle tumbles past his lips  before he says, “I dare yeh to go over to Bad Bunny and ask him if the fruit on the table is real.”

“Hmm...okay.”

Harry tries to cover up his laugh with a cough to his fist as he watches his wife get up from her chair next to him and makes her way over to Bad Bunny. The famous Latin artist is immediately getting up from his seat and greeting her with welcoming arms. 

“Hey, you,” YN says in Spanish. “How are you?”

“I’m doing amazing, my love. And you? You look absolutely stunning.”

“Thank you. I’m good, I’m good. Your performance earlier was absolutely amazing.”

It’s true, when he took the stage for the opening of the ceremony, she was already on her feet and moving her hips to the upbeat music. She even pulled Harry out of his seat, held onto both of his hands as she guided him to the beat of the song. She’d be lying if she said that he wasn’t getting better at dancing—this becomes more and more apparent every show on tour he does. 

Benito puts a hand over his heart with a shrug, “Thank you, I try. That’s an honor coming from you.”

“You’re too sweet. Hey listen, can I ask you something?”

“Anything you want.”

“So...are we allowed to eat those?” She nods towards the array of delicately sliced and decorated fruits scattered around the center of the small table. “Like are they even real?”

“I think so, my love,” He nods reassuringly with a furrow of his eyebrows, clearly confused by her question but he doesn’t want to come off as rude. 

“Cause I’m starving, man, but I don’t want to get in trouble or anything.”

When Bad Bunny leans over the table to get a better look at the fruit, YN playfully widens her eyes at her husband a little bit away, a smile threatening to break out on her lips before she regains her composure once the artist stands upright again. 

“Here you go, mama.” YN coos and cups her hands as he hands her slices of cucumber. He takes a thin slice and pops one in his mouth, “They’re all good, sweetheart.”

“Aw, thank you so much. I love you,” She leans closer to him and plants a kiss on both of his cheeks. It’s an odd experience for Harry to feel only a flicker of jealousy at the sight of his love and another man because despite his possessiveness, seeing her walk back over to him, pushing a cucumber slice past her cheeky lips with her wedding ring shining under the roaming lights is enough to dose the same flame.

“If the camera happens to pan over to us, I dare yeh to just dead stare at the camera.”

“Want one? They’re real,” His wife teases before the speakers announce that they’ll be live in 10 seconds. As Trevor begins to prepare to speak with one of the cameramen in front of him, YN leans over to Harry and whispers in his ear, “Truth or Dare?”

His brows pinch together for a second, really seeing if she wanted to continue their little game despite the show starting up again. One look at her tempting smile is all the confirmation he needed, “Dare.”

“And we’re on in three...two...one...”

“Truth or dar—”

“Dare,” A cheeky smirk tugs on his wife’s lips.

“I dare you to do it with me.”

Soon enough, Twitter and every other social media site blows up with people recording the bottom corner of their TV screens to capture how the newlyweds just stare at the camera with a furrow in their brows for an unsettling amount of time.

...

“I have the very special honor of introducing this next performer. I’ve known this man since we were merely sixteen years old and it’s taken him 12 years to finally put a ring on it,” YN smiles and takes a second to let the audience members have their laugh. “This man has made a tremendous impact on me life and to the lives of many others through his heart-touching music to promoting how the world can be a better place if we all show each other just a little bit of kindness. Harry, you are an inspiration to so many people and just know that your kindness does not go unnoticed. Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for my husband, Mister Harry Styles!”

...

“Harry and YN YL-Styles are here tonight, everybody!” The camera captures the way the couple sits happily together. Harry has his right hand securely and protectively resting on YN’s knee. After giving a brief wave to the camera, he secretly boasts when she places her left hand on his to show off the rock on her finger.

“That's right. I mean what can you say about these two that hasn’t been said? Incredible albums, mind-blowing tours, both men and women alike throw their pants at these guys!” Thankful for their media training, they huff out a dry laugh making it seem like a genuine one. It was a silly thought to assume that the host wasn’t going to make a jab at the couple given the way he’s been cracking jokes all evening.

“Easily the world’s sexiest couple. There’s no competition. Sex symbols of the globe. Especially now since they killed off the Green M&M. Give it up for the newlyweds! Congratulations to you both. Come on, another round of applause for these guys!”

The couple give him a polite nod of gratitude and once the cameras and Trevor walk away, Lizzo leans over to them and lets them see the dramatic roll of her eyes. They chuckle at their friend’s reaction and are eternally grateful for her acknowledging the inappropriate comment. Not like the comment like that was new to them, they’ve been receiving that type of commentary ever since they were sixteen years old. One could say that it’s part of the job, of the industry they decided to enter into, but it’s 2023 now. One would think that those comments would be dead at this point. Clearly, it’s not.

“Just to ease all the gears turning in yeh head,” YN leans close to her husband’s attempt to disclose his irrated face (an outsider would assume that nothing’s wrong but she can tell). “I think you were sexy way  before they killed off the Green M&M.”

“Fuck off,” Harry huffs out a laugh and it ignites one from her. His one distraught expression is replaced with his eyes squeezing shut, his dimples digging into his cheeks and his nose scrunching up cutely.

...

(performance audio!) 

“65th Grammys!” YN’s sweet voice rings throughout the arena. She stands at the center of a grand staircase in her minimal and revealing outfit with a crowd of background dancers around her. “Let’s go! Whoo! You might think I’m crazy, the way I’ve been craving, if I put it quite plainly, just gimme them babies...”

The cameramen are able to capture the way a sea of celebrities are all on their feet as they watch YN perform: Lizzo and Adele dance with their hands in the air as they sing along to 34+35, Taylor Swift bounces to the beat of the song with a content smile, Beyonce claps along and mouths along to the lyrics. 

And of course, the camera never fails to record how Harry holds a fond dimpled smile as he watches his wife take the stage. All he can think of when he watches her is how good of a performer she is. As nervous as she was to perform at this prestigious award show, she’s absolutely killing it, treating this with the same about of love and passion as any other show on her tour. The audience feeds off of her positive energy and it shows as the entire room dances and sings along. 

As the bridge of the song comes on, YN keeps her eyes on the distinguishable white blazer among the crowd. She lowers herself to do her floorwork dance routine with her four core tour dancers and the crowd goes crazy at her sensual moves. Especially when she lays on her tummy while doing the splits, resting her head in her hand while her leg slides across the floor with a bounce of her bum. 

Despite the loud crowd, she can hear the ear-piercing whistle from her husband. She can help but huff out a laugh, trying to keep her composure but failing. 

...

“And the Grammy goes to....YN, Need To Know!”

YN’s dreaming, she must be. Life certainly doesn’t seem real as she walks up the steps of the stage and hugs non other than Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson after he announces that she won for Best Pop Solo Performance. After hugging her husband and the other two women within her category, she finds herself holding yet another Grammy award in her hands. 

“Holy shit!” YN beams. “I have so many people to thank for this award but this one—hands down—goes to me fans. I—” She lets out a genuine laugh, the kind where a snort slips out. The audience members laugh along with her, feeding off of her bubbly energy. 

“The fans made this song what it is. I—this song wasn’t even supposed to be on me album! But it got leaked and when the fans gave it so much love, they made it into a single. Never in a million years would I think that this song would get this much love, let alone get one of these so, thank you to all me fans. I love you all very much!”

...

Harry stands beside her at their designated table but rather than looking out at the performers, his eyes are set on YN. A fond smile graces his lips as he sees her dancing and rapping along with every artist that comes out on stage for the 50 Years of Hip Hop Tribute. 

He gives her an amused smile when she turns to look up at him, pointing at him aggressively as she sassily raps along to Queen Latifah’s U.N.I.T.Y. 

He laughs at her reaction to Busta Rhymes taking the stage. With her eyes still glued to the stage before them, she grips on the flap of his blazer with a shocked, excited smile. She lets out a laugh mixed with a squeal when Rhymes raps his verse from Look At Me Now at lightning speed. Her fingers cover her temples, completely blown out of her mind at the absolute magic that is happening right in front of her.

And when Missy Elliot comes out, YN sways her way in front of Harry. With his arm resting over her shoulder, she takes his dangling hand and while leaning over she moves her hips to the beat of the female legend rapping, “rump shaking” over and over again. She gives him a cheeky look over her shoulder while she does it and when they hear Lizzo and Adele cheering her on, the couple bursts out laughing.

For the rest of the performance, Harry has her back pressed to his chest, arms secured over her shoulders and chest as they lightly bounce together to the beat of the songs. 

...

Although neither Harry nor YN won Record of the Year, they both couldn’t be happier that Lizzo was the one to receive the award. As soon as her name was called, the married couple were quickly on their feet, cheering and whistling loudly in celebration for their good friend.

“I also want to thank my girl, YN, over there!” Lizzo points over to where the couple stands with a loud laugh. YN yells out an Oi! Oi! with her hand up, a big smile gracing her face as she looks at one of her dear friends. “Miss m’am, you’ve been such an inspiration to me and I just wanna give you a shout out for helping produce some of my songs. This girl is the one who said this song should be my single!”

The camera turns back to YN as Harry tugs her to his side, throwing an arm over the tops of her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

...

“I see your point,” Riley puts his hands together in an understanding way from his spot at the round table, trying to be as polite as he can towards the elderly woman. “But have you considered listening to his former band mate turned wife’s album MY FUTURE?”

“Hi, I’m Riley and I think YN YLN’s album MY FUTURE is the Album of the Year. I have been a Directioner since the band first started and have been YN-ie since she went solo.”

A vertical video clip plays of an over-excited tween Riley at the barricade of the Take Me Home tour stage. Nineteen year old YN stands as close to the edge of the stage as she possibly can with her arm out towards the superfan. She blows him a kiss and gives him a twiddle of her fingers before walking back over to where the rest of the boys are lined up in a row.

Another clip shows YN decked out in her iconic sparkly blue bodysuit from her current tour standing at the end of the catwalk and pointing to Riley with a beaming smile, recognizing him from the shows he’s been to for the past couple of years.

“Her music is that light at the end of the tunnel, you know? She’s a bad B and sunshine all wrapped into one.” He moves his hands in front of him as he speaks passionately about his favorite artist. “She speaks to everyone through her music—it’s truly for everyone. She has grown so much as a songwriter, a producer, a human being over the past couple of years and this album is a true testament to that.”

...

It’s one thing to be nominated for Producer of the Year for a second time but it’s another to win it a second time. So imagine YN’s utter shock to hear her name be called for possibly the most significant award of her career. 

“I would like to thank the academy, my wonderful team, me mum, me fans. And last but not least, I would like to thank my better half, my husband over there—” YN huffs out a laugh when the audience goes into a fit of cheering as the sight of Harry standing and blowing her kisses. “If it wasn’t for you, I would have never chased my dream of becoming a producer. That man has supported me and just encouraged me to work hard and to make music that makes me happy. I love you with all my heart and thank you so much. 

To win this award a second year in a row—the first and only female to be nominated and win—” YN takes a step back with her eyes watery, her laughter ringing through the arena as the audience gives her a standing ovation. She can hear Harry’s whistle over all the cheering and clapping, and she couldn't be any happier.

“This is the highlight of me career and quite frankly, the coolest fookin’ thing to ever happen to me. Thank you so much and this one is to all the female producers out there!”

...

“And the Grammy goes to...” Trevor looks among the superfans behind him. He passes by Riley and says to the older woman that she can read out the winner.

”H-Harry! Harry’s House!” Reina yells out in utter excitement. 

Harry puts his face in his hands as he’s overcome with emotions. Never in a million years would he ever think that he would win the award for Album of the Year and yet here he is with his name being called as the winner. 

Meanwhile, as soon as her husband’s album is called, she puts her hands up in the air and screams at the top of her lungs. There are no bitter feelings of jealousy in her. He deserves it. She knows more than anyone that this ball of sunshine has been working his bum off to create the music that he loves and this award just proves that he’s doing something truly special. She puts her hands on Harry’s shoulders and tugs him close to her, him still covering his face as he digs his head into the crook of her shoulder. She beams and laughs along with Lizzo, reaching over to meet her high-five.

After the initial shock is over, he’s standing up and immediately pulling his teary-eyed wife into his arms.

“Congratulations, baby,” She lovingly says into his ear as he rocks them back and forth, gripping onto her as he’s afraid she may suddenly disappear. She sees his beautiful dimpled smile before cupping her face and planting a kiss to her lips. Both of them are so overjoyed, so blissfully overwhelmed by this award that they’re just floating on Cloud 9.

After she hugs the other producers—her teammates for this project—Harry quickly grips her hands and nods towards the stage. She shakes her head, wanting this to be his moment, but he’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer. The other two producers get behind her so she can’t go anywhere else and Harry has her arm looped through his as he guides them towards the stage. 

Once they make it to the stage, her heart nearly bursts when Harry playfully makes his way over to the elderly woman, wrapping his arms around her tiny frame and jumping up and down. It’s such a sweet sight and it occurs to YN how special and rare these moments can be. 

Before all of the superfans can make their way off the stage completely, YN quickly jogs over to Riley and he immediately accepts her warm embrace.

This is one of the first times where she can express her love to one of her fans, to show a tiny bit of appreciation for all the love she has for her fanbase—people who have been by her side since the very beginning. It’s not an easy feeling to come to terms with the fact that she will never know all of her fans on a personal level, to individually thank each and every single person for all that they’ve done for her.

Riley’s jaw is on the floor over her shoulder and when she pulls back, she takes his face in her hands, “‘Fank you so much, Riley. Love you, babe.”

After planting a kiss on his cheek, she rejoins her co-producers behind Harry. The two men welcome her embrace in a group hug and once Harry can see that she’s behind him, he begins his speech.

“Shit. Well, shit! Man, I’ve just been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. I listen to every single person in this category. I think on nights like tonight, it’s important for us to remember that there is no best in music.”

As Harry continues his speech, fans can see the way that YN’s eyes are glossy and how she bites down on her bottom lip, one breath away from truly bursting into a fit of tears.

“This is really, really kind. I’m so, so, grateful. I...this doesn't happen to people like me very often and this is so, so kind. I would like to thank my wife, YN, who I made the majority of the album with,” The audience collectively coos as he turns his attention to his love behind him. “You’ve been my biggest supporter, my best friend and the love of my life for as long as I can remember. Thank you for helping me make every album I’ve ever made and for this one in particular. This album is for you and so is this award.”

YN puts a hand over her bright smile as he passes her the Grammy with a kiss on her cheek. The audience cheers and claps in excitement as she comes up to the microphone.

Before she can even get a word out, she looks down at the Grammy in her hands and huffs out a light laugh of disbelief. 

“Erm, I think Harry said it best in that we don’t make music with the intention of us getting one of these. I’m so unbelievably honored to have worked with Harry since the start of our careers in the band and beyond that. 

My love, I want to thank you for the trust that you’ve given me when we make music. Every second that we’ve worked on this album has been incredibly special to me. It’s...I’m so incredibly over the fookin’ moon right now. I want to pass it onto my wonderful collaborators who helped make Harry’s vision come to life.” 

While the other producers give their brief ‘thank you’ speeches, fans are more focused on the couple behind them. 

When YN passes the Grammy off to Kid, she’s immediately engulfed by her husband. Her hands grip onto his shoulders as he digs his forehead to the middle of her chest and shakes it in disbelief—an action that looks like he’s motorboating her if taken out of context. She takes his face in her hands and gives him one of her breath-taking smiles. Although their conversation doesn’t get picked up by the microphones, fans can read her lips as she mouths “I love you,” and “So proud of you.” 

She closes her eyes with a smile when he digs his face back into the crook of her neck and rocks them from side to side. The faint sound of her giggling is picked up as he mumbles something against the shell of her ear.

If it were any other situation, the couple probably would have tamed their public displays of affection in front of so many watchful eyes. If. 

...

After the award ceremony has come to a close, everyone takes their turn doing a photoshoot with their Grammys.

YN certainly has her arms full trying to hold her four Grammys in her arms. It’s not long until she holds her Grammy for being one of the producers for Harry’s Album of the Year Award along with Tyler, Kid, and of course, her husband.

“Do the two of you want to do one together? Let’s do one together!” The photographer decides without the couple’s imput but they certain don’t complain. 

Soon enough, Harry sits on the fancy couch they have set up for them. While he holds his two Grammys in his hands, YN holds two of her own before sitting down on his thigh.

“Is this seat taken?” YN teases with a wiggle of her eyebrows. The photographer’s assistance places her other two awards beside them on the couch. 

“Never,” He smiles up at her and a flash of light washes over them at the photographer taking a candid picture of them.

When YN posts one of the pictures on her instagram, it’s YN in Harry’s lap with their collective Grammys sat on the couch with them. She’s cradling one of the awards like a baby and they both look at it with playful, exasperated love.

She captions it with: We’re just one big happy family.

.

.

I write for free so if any of you lovies would like to help a college girl out and buy her a ko-fi i would greatly appreciate it :) 💚

taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @s8tellite @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @harianaswhore @teawithcyb0rgs @vrittivsanghavi @vc55bughead @futuristiccroissantlampsludge @onecrazydirectioner @valluvsu @itsgabbysblog @awkwardbisexuall @rosehel @sucker4angstt @isalove @diorchives @mrshiddlestyles02 @fdl305

[lollypopsx]

gang!harry : "you could have died."

A/N: Warnings: mentions of guns, swearing

"What the hell were you playing at?! I told you to stay here!" Harry stormed through the bedroom door and chucked his gun on the white silk sheets.

"What you expected me just to fucking stay here once again?! I'm tired of staying here! I feel like a fricking prisoner Harry! I'm bored!" You groan, rolling your eyes and slumping onto the end on the bed.

"Y/N, do you understand there's a reason I want you to stay here?! Christ this isn't some jolly adventure to get Ice Cream and some snacks! This is some serious fucking stuff!" He yells, his eyes dark and angry.

And he rarely got angry with you like this. He was beyond angry.

You gulped nervously and began to drop your head, Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before kneeling in front of you.

"Hey...look at me" He whispers, tapping your chin gently as your guilty eyes lifted to meet his, his arms snaking round your waist.

"I'm sorry I yelled...I just...you're precious" He mutters quietly, his nose tickling against your cheek. "I just...you don't understand the kind of people we have to deal with sometimes...they don't reason with people and if you're in their way...if..." He frowns and pulls you closer to him. "They won't think twice. And I could never fucking live without you..."

"Harry, they don't know me. I'm sure they wouldn't of even minded that I-"

"Y/N. You could of died...I could never let anything happen to you. Please that's why I need you to understand when I say I need you to stay here..." He frowns sadly, his eyes glinting with guilt as you frowned.

"I'm sorry...I should have listened" You whisper burying your head into his neck.