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musicforastylesrestaurant · 8 months

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Saccharine Expressions.

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authors note - enjoy 8k words of Harry grieving his wife.

trigger warnings - mentions of car crashes, hospitals, mentions of miscarriage and a shit load of angst. if you notice anymore triggers please let me know asap!

word count - 8k

in which, your husband postpones his american leg of tour because you get involved in a road traffic accident, resulting in you ending up in a medically induced coma, your husband and four year old comes to visit you everyday and they always have something new to tell you. this is everything that Harry experiences whilst you asleep, speaking to you whilst holding your hand, getting forced to eat because he doesn’t want to move and reassuring your son that mummy’s going to be fine.

12th August, 2022. — 14:47pm.

You had been looking forward to this moment all day. The afternoon sun cast a warm glow as you sat behind the wheel, cruising along the familiar roads on your way to pick up your four year old son, Alfie from school. The car hummed softly, the radio playing a cheerful tune in the background. The anticipation of reuniting with your little one filled the air, your heart light with the prospect of his laughter and stories from his day.

As you turned onto the street leading to the school, you imagined his face lighting up when he spotted your car. He would come running, his backpack bouncing against his small frame, his smile infectious. You couldn't wait to envelop him in a tight hug, his energy and innocence providing a welcome escape from the adult world.

The plan was to head to your husband's music studio, where he was getting everything ready for his American Leg of tour. It had been a while since the three of you had spent quality time together there, surrounded by the melodies that had woven into the fabric of your life. You had ordered takeout from his favourite restaurant, a little treat to celebrate a simple yet special evening.

The studio was your sanctuary, a place where your husband's creativity flowed freely. The walls were adorned with framed memories and records, a testament to his journey as a musician. Walking in, you'd inhale the familiar scent of music equipment and the subtle mix of coffee and old books. You'd settle into the cosy corner, watching as your son explored the room with wide-eyed wonder.

You'd listen to your husband's stories, sharing in his triumphs and frustrations. The music playing softly in the background would create a serene backdrop to your conversations, each note a reminder of the bond you shared. You'd laugh, you'd dance, and you'd cherish the time spent as a family.

But as the sun began its descent and the car continued down the road, fate had other plans.

Out of nowhere, a truck materialised in your path, its imposing presence casting a shadow over your joy-filled thoughts. Panic surged through your veins, your heart racing as you attempted to react, but time seemed to slow.

The impact was sudden and brutal, metal colliding with metal in a deafening symphony of destruction. Your world spun, and for a fraction of a second, everything went black.

Harry sat in the dimly lit studio, his fingers dancing across the keyboard of his laptop as he worked on everything that would be needed for the show in upcoming days. The soft hum of the air conditioning was the only sound accompanying his thoughts.

But then, a sudden interruption shattered his focus – his phone began to ring insistently, its vibrations causing it to skitter across the table.

Frowning, Harry picked up the phone and saw the school's name on the caller ID. He furrowed his brows, a sense of unease fluttering in his chest. He swiped to answer the call and held the phone to his ear.

" ‘ello?" he said, his voice a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Hi, Is this Mr. Styles?" a voice on the other end inquired.

"Yeah, this is ‘im," he replied, his brows knitting tighter.

"I'm calling from LakeRidge school," the receptionist explained. "It seems there was a mix-up, and no one came to pick up Alfie today."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Wait, what? No one picked him up?"

"That's correct. We were trying to reach your wife earlier, but it seems no one was answering," the receptionist explained, her voice apologetic.

Harry's mind raced as he glanced at the time on his watch. You and Harry took it in turns to pick up Alfie from school. You did Mondays, Wednesday and Harry did Tuesdays and Thursdays. You both picked him up on Fridays. He ran a hand through his hair, his worry deepening.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "I'll be right there t’pick him up."

"Of course, Mr. Styles. We'll make sure he's safe until you arrive," the receptionist assured him.

"Thank you," Harry replied, his tone earnest. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

12th August, 2022. — 15:12pm.

The tires of Harry's car screeched as he quickly manoeuvred into a parking spot near the school. He barely had time to turn off the engine before he was out of the car, his long strides carrying him toward the school building. Panic surged through him with every step, a mix of worry and guilt propelling him forward.

As he burst through the doors of the school reception, his eyes frantically scanned the room for a familiar face. And there he was – his son, Alfie, standing near the reception desk, his face a mixture of relief and excitement as he spotted his father.

"Daddy!" Alfie's voice rang out, and he sprinted toward Harry with open arms.

Harry's heart swelled with a rush of emotions. He crouched down, his arms outstretched, and Alfie practically leaped into his embrace. Harry held his son tightly, a mixture of relief and remorse flooding his senses.

"I'm so sorry, buddy," Harry murmured, his voice filled with regret. "Me and Mummy should have been here t’pick y’up on time."

Alfie squeezed Harry even tighter, his small arms wrapping around his father's neck. "It's okay, Daddy. I knew you'd come."

Harry pulled back slightly, looking into his son's eyes. "Still, I should have been here f’you. I promise this won't happen again."

Alfie's face lit up with a bright smile, his forgiveness and trust shining through. "I love you, Daddy."

Harry's heart ached with love as he pressed a kiss to Alfie's forehead. "I love you too, more than anything."

After a moment of holding his son close, Harry straightened up and swung Alfie onto his hip. He gathered his son's backpack with his free hand and draped it over his shoulder.

"Ready t’go, bud?" Harry asked, his voice gentle.

Alfie nodded enthusiastically, his arms wrapped around Harry's neck. "Yeah!"

With Alfie securely perched on his hip, Harry made his way back to the car. He settled Alfie into his car seat, making sure he was buckled in safely. As he closed the car door, he leaned in to meet Alfie's gaze.

"M’really sorry about today, Alf," Harry said sincerely. "From now on, Me and Mummy will make sure were here on time t’pick y’up, n’matter what."

Alfie's smile returned, his eyes filled with trust. "I know you will, Daddy."

Harry smiled back, his heart full as he ruffled Alfie's hair affectionately. With one final glance, he closed the car door and walked around to the driver's seat.

Just as Harry's hand touched the ignition to start the car, his phone lit up with an unknown number. A sense of unease washed over him, but he quickly connected the call to the car's Bluetooth system.

" ‘Ello?" Harry said, his voice projected through the car's speakers.

"Is this Mr. Styles speaking?" a calm voice inquired.

Harry's brows furrowed as he gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. "Yes, this is ‘im."

"Mr. Styles, I'm Dr. Parker from Willow Creek Hospital," the voice introduced itself. "I'm calling because you are listed as the emergency contact for (Y/N) Styles."

Harry's heart skipped a beat at the mention of his wife’s name, his thoughts racing as he tightened his grip on the phone.

"(Y/N)?" he repeated, his voice shaky.

"I'm afraid there's been an incident," Dr. Parker explained gently. "It would be best if we discussed this in person. Can you please come to Willow Creek Hospital as soon as possible?"

A surge of panic coursed through Harry's veins as he turned to look at the backseat, where his four-year-old was sitting. He reached out and gently grasped his child's small hand, his mind racing with worry.

" ‘hat happened?" Harry asked, his voice quivering.

"I understand your concern, Mr. Styles," the doctor replied, his tone compassionate. "I assure you, we will explain everything once you're here. Please, make your way to the hospital as soon as you can."

Harry swallowed hard, his mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion.

"Yeah, ‘kay," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

12th August, 2022. — 16:09pm.

The hospital loomed before Harry like an imposing fortress of uncertainty. He had hurriedly dropped off Alfie at his manager Jeff's house, making sure his son was safe and away from the unsettling environment of a hospital. Now, his heart raced as he rushed through the sliding glass doors, the sterile scent hitting him like a wave as he stepped into the hospital's bustling foyer.

His eyes darted around, scanning the signs that pointed the way to different wards and departments. But his mind was a blur, and he found himself striding over to the reception desk, his voice hurried and tense.

"S’cuse me," Harry began, his voice tinged with anxiety. "M’looking f’m’wife, (Y/N) Styles. Can y’tell me where she is?"

The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, looked up from her computer screen and offered a sympathetic smile. "Of course, sir. Let me check for you."

Harry's fingers tapped nervously on the counter as he waited, his gaze flitting around the lobby. The distant hum of footsteps, the occasional murmur of conversations – it all blended into a surreal symphony that only heightened his unease.

After a moment, the receptionist turned back to him. "It says on her notes that her doctor wants to speak to you before you l are updated on your wife, I’ll page her doctor and let him know your here, be will be out to speak with you shortly about your wife’s condition"

Harry's shoulders slumped slightly in frustration, but he nodded in acknowledgment. "Right. Thank you."

As he paced back and forth near the reception area, his mind raced with scenarios and questions. What had happened? Was (Y/N) okay? The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, a doctor emerged from the corridor beyond.

"Mr. Styles?" the doctor called out, his white coat billowing slightly as he approached.

Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he turned toward the doctor. "Yes, that's me."

The doctor extended a hand, his expression a mix of professionalism and empathy. "I'm Dr. Parker. Please, come with me. We have a private room where we can talk."

Dr. Parker led Harry down a series of hallways until they reached a small, private family room. The air inside felt heavy with anticipation, and as Harry stepped through the door, he could hardly ignore the sense of foreboding that settled over him.

Taking a seat, Harry's hands trembled slightly as he looked at the doctor, his eyes wide and expectant.

"I appreciate your patience, Mr. Styles," Dr. Parker began, his tone gentle. "I know this is a difficult time, and I want to provide you with as much information as I can."

Harry nodded, his heart pounding as he held onto every word the doctor spoke.

"Your wife, (Y/N) Styles, was brought in unconscious after the car accident," the doctor explained. "Upon evaluation and a CT scan, we discovered a small bleed on her brain. It's causing increased pressure, and we're closely monitoring her condition."

Harry's breath caught in his throat, his fingers clenching into fists as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. His wife, the person he loved more than anything, was facing a critical health challenge.

"Additionally," Dr. Parker continued, "she has sustained multiple injuries. Her ribs are fractured, and she has also broken her femur."

The weight of the doctor's words seemed to press down on Harry's chest, his mind struggling to process the extent of his wife's injuries. Images of her vibrant smile, her laughter, and the moments they had shared together flashed through his mind, a stark contrast to the reality he was now facing.

"What... what’re the next steps?" Harry managed to ask, his voice quivering.

"We've already begun treatment for the brain bleed," Dr. Parker explained. "She's under close observation in the Intensive Care Unit. Our priority is to stabilise her and manage the pressure on her brain. Once that's achieved, we'll assess the best course of action for her other injuries."

Harry nodded, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He wanted to be strong, for both his wife and their family, but the weight of the situation threatened to overwhelm him.

"Can I... can I see ‘er?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Parker nodded understandingly. "Of course. We're preparing a room for you to visit her briefly. Please keep in mind that she's still unconscious, and we're closely monitoring her condition."

As the doctor led Harry through the hospital corridors, the journey felt like a surreal blur. He couldn't shake the fear that gripped his heart, nor the deep sense of longing to see his wife's face, to hold her hand and offer his unwavering support.

The door to the room swung open, revealing you lying in the hospital bed, surrounded by machines and monitors. Your face appeared peaceful, a stark contrast to the turmoil within Harry's heart. He approached the bed, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead.

"(Y/N)," Harry whispered, his voice laden with emotion. "M’here. I love you."

He held your hand gently, his grip offering both reassurance and a silent promise that he would be by your side throughout this challenging journey. As he looked at you, his heart swelled with a mixture of love and determination, a reminder that your bond was unbreakable, even in the face of adversity.

The soft beep of machines filled the room as Harry stood by your bedside, his gaze fixed on your still form. Dr. Parker joined him, his presence a mix of professionalism and empathy.

"Mr. Styles," the doctor began, his tone gentle, "I need to explain that due to the severity of (Y/N)'s injuries, we made the decision to place her in a medically induced coma."

Harry's heart sank at the doctor's words, his eyes widening as he turned to look at Dr. Parker. The gravity of the situation seemed to deepen with each passing moment, and the reality that you was facing a critical condition hit him like a ton of bricks.

"A coma?" Harry repeated, his voice barely audible.

"Yes," Dr. Parker confirmed. "Given the head injury and the need to reduce pressure on her brain, we initiated the coma to allow her body to heal and to give her the best chance of recovery."

Harry's hands trembled as he reached out to hold your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, his heart heavy with worry for his wife.

"I know this is incredibly difficult," Dr. Parker continued, his voice compassionate. "But the induced coma is a crucial part of her treatment plan. It will help minimise any further damage and allow us to closely monitor her brain activity."

Harry nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving your face. He felt a mixture of helplessness and determination, the need to be there for you overwhelming his thoughts.

"M’here f’er," Harry said, his voice firm. "Whatever she needs, I'll be here."

Dr. Parker nodded, his expression one of understanding. "Your presence and support are invaluable, Mr. Styles. We'll continue to keep you updated on her condition and progress."

Dr. Parker remained in the room, his expression a mix of concern and professionalism. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his voice measured yet compassionate.

"There's one more thing I need to discuss with you, Mr. Styles," the doctor said, his tone somber.

Harry's head shot up, his eyes locking onto Dr. Parker's. A sense of dread gripped him, his heart pounding as he awaited the doctor's words.

The doctor's gaze met Harry's, his eyes conveying a mixture of empathy and gravity. "Were you aware that your wife is pregnant?"

Harry's brows furrowed in confusion, his mind racing to process the question. He shook his head slightly. "No, I wasn't."

Dr. Parker nodded, his gaze steady. "According to our initial assessment and subsequent scans, (Y/N) is approximately 13 weeks pregnant."

Harry's eyes widened in shock, his thoughts a jumble of emotions. The news hit him like a tidal wave, the realisation that not only was you facing a critical condition, but your was also carrying yours and his second child.

"She... she’s pregnant?" Harry managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alfie was going to be a big brother.

"Yes," Dr. Parker confirmed. "The baby appears to be fine, given our initial scans. However, I need to be transparent with you, Mr. Styles. The circumstances surrounding the accident do pose a higher risk of miscarriage."

Harry's heart ached at the doctor's words, the weight of the situation heavy upon him. The room seemed to close in around him as he processed the reality of the delicate life that hung in the balance.

" ‘hat can we do?" Harry asked, his voice trembling.

Dr. Parker's expression softened. "Right now, the focus is on (Y/N)'s recovery. We'll continue to monitor both her and the baby closely. While the situation is delicate, we'll do everything we can to support their well-being."

Harry nodded, his thoughts a whirlwind of worry and determination. He glanced back at you, his hand instinctively moving to rest on your abdomen, as if trying to protect the life that was growing within her.

"Thank you, Dr. Parker," Harry said, his voice heavy with gratitude. "Please, do whatever y’can t’take care of them."

The doctor offered a reassuring nod. "We're committed to providing the best care possible, Mr. Styles. We'll keep you updated on any developments."

As the doctor left the room, Harry's gaze remained fixed on you, his heart a mixture of hope and fear. The journey ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but he knew that the love and strength the two of you shared would be his guiding light, illuminating the path toward recovery for both you and their unborn child.

Dr. Parker's steps had barely faded when Harry found himself whispering to the still room, his voice a mixture of desperation and raw emotion.

"Y’can't leave us," Harry murmured, his fingers gently brushing your hand. "We need you. Alfie needs you."

His voice cracked as he spoke, the weight of his words heavy in the air. He looked at your face, so peaceful yet distant, and a lump formed in his throat.

"Alfie can't grow up without a mother," Harry continued, his voice trembling. "I don't know what I'll do without you."

Tears welled in his eyes as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He took a shaky breath, his fingers gripping your ones tighter.

"Y’everything t’us," Harry whispered, his voice barely audible. "We can't lose you."

The room was silent, the machines and monitors offering a haunting backdrop to his plea. Harry's heartache felt like an ache in his chest, a reminder of the fragility of life and the depth of his love for you and your unborn child.

DAY ONE. 13th August, 2022. — 07:54am.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow across the hospital room, Harry roused from his light slumber. He had spent the night in the chair beside your bed, his presence a steadfast symbol of his unwavering support. The machines continued their soft symphony, their rhythmic beeps and hums creating an almost surreal backdrop to the uncertainty that hung in the air.

A nurse, her footsteps soft and purposeful, entered the room. She moved gracefully, her experience evident in the way she approached your bedside and began checking her vitals. The machines responded with gentle beeps, their cadence familiar to Harry's ears by now. He watched the nurse's actions with a mix of hope and apprehension, his heart pounding in his chest.

As the nurse worked, her gaze shifted to Harry, and she offered a kind smile. "Good morning. Did you stay the whole night?"

Harry nodded, his voice hoarse as he replied, "Yeah, m’didn't want t’leave ‘er."

The nurse's gaze held a mixture of understanding and reassurance. "She's in safe hands here, Mr. Styles. We're doing everything we can for her."

Harry's grip on (Y/N)'s hand tightened, his gaze unwavering as he looked at the woman he loved. "I know, but I just... I can't leave her side."

The nurse nodded in understanding, her demeanour empathetic. "It's understandable that you want to be here for her. Just know that if you need anything – a drink, a meal, a moment to step outside – the nurses' station is just outside the door. Don't hesitate to reach out."

"Thank you," Harry said, his voice filled with gratitude. "I appreciate that."

With a final nod, the nurse completed her assessments and left the room, her presence a brief yet comforting interlude in the otherwise tense environment. Left alone once more with (Y/N), Harry's gaze returned to her face, his emotions a tumultuous mix of concern, love, and longing.

"Y’not alone in this," Harry whispered, his voice gentle. His fingers traced over her skin, the wedding band on her left hand a poignant reminder of the life they had built together. "We're in this together."

14:17pm.

Later in the afternoon, Harry's phone rang, shattering the quiet stillness of the room. His heart jumped at the sound, and he quickly retrieved the device, seeing his mum Anne's name on the screen. With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, he answered the call.

" ‘Ey, Mum," Harry greeted, his voice laced with a hint of anxiety.

"Harry, love," Anne's warm voice came through the line, tinged with concern. "I saw the announcement about the tour. Is everything alright?"

Harry's eyes welled up with tears, his emotions still raw and close to the surface. He took a deep breath, his voice shaky as he replied, "No, Mum. Everything's not alright."

Anne's voice softened with worry. "What happened, sweetheart?"

Harry's voice quivered as he began to recount the events of the past day, from the car accident to (Y/N)'s injuries and the delicate situation with their unborn child. As he spoke, the emotions that he had been trying to hold back surged forth, and tears rolled down his cheeks.

"I just... I can't lose her, Mama," Harry choked out, his voice breaking. "And Alfie... I don't want ‘im t’go through this. I don't know what t’do."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, a pause that carried a weight of empathy and understanding. Then, Anne's voice came through, filled with unwavering support.

"I'm catching the first flight out, Harry," Anne said firmly. "I want to be there for you, for Alfie, and for (Y/N)."

Harry's heart swelled with gratitude, his breath hitching as he wiped away tears. "Mum, y’don't have t’ I know y’have y’own commitments."

Anne's voice was resolute. "Harry, you're my son. Family comes first, always. I want to be there for all of you."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes once more, this time fueled by the overwhelming love and comfort that his mother's words brought. He took a shaky breath, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Thank you, Mum. I... I really need y’right now."

"Of course, love," Anne replied gently. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Take care of yourself and Alfie."

18:30pm.

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm and soothing light across the hospital room, Harry remained rooted in his seat beside your bed. His unwavering presence was a testament to his devotion and concern for you, a quiet guardian watching over you as machines softly beeped and hummed in the background, a symphony of hope and uncertainty.

As the day's shadows grew longer, Harry turned his gaze to your serene face, his fingers still delicately entwined with your frail ones. With a tender smile, he began to speak, his voice a soothing balm in the hushed room.

"M’sun," he began, his words a blend of affection and determination,

His voice carried a note of eagerness, a glimmer of the future he envisioned. Gently, he reached out, his fingertips brushing against her hand as if conveying his sentiments through touch.

"When y’better we’ll go back t’England," he continued, a touch of excitement in his tone. "We'll leave everything behind f’a’while – the tour, the noise, the schedules. It can all wait. We can wait."

His gaze then shifted to her stomach, where their child was growing, a symbol of their love and resilience.

"N’this lil’one," he said softly, as though speaking directly to their unborn child, "we'll take y’to the places y’never seen. The countryside, the beaches, the parks. We'll have picnics and adventures. Your mum, I, and your big brother, Alf, we're going t’show y’the world."

A tender smile played on Harry's lips as he imagined the joy that such simple moments would bring to their son's life.

"We'll watch the sunset by the sea," Harry murmured, his voice an intimate whisper. "It'll be just the four of us, wrapped’n’blankets, sharing stories’n’laughter. We'll make memories that'll last a lifetime, (Y/N)."

His hand gently left hers and reached out, his palm resting tenderly on her stomach. The connection felt tangible, a bridge between the present challenges and the future joys they were determined to experience.

"We'll have all the time in the world," he promised softly. "Time for us, f’our family. No rush, no pressures. Just our love and the life we're creating."

DAY TWO. 14th August, 2022. — 08:03am.

The next day's gentle light filled the hospital room, casting a sense of quiet hope. Anne, Harry's mother, entered with a mixture of concern and determination etched on her face. Her gaze fell upon Harry, who remained hunched over in his chair, his fingers tightly interwoven with yours, and his eyes red-rimmed with sleeplessness. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she took in his exhausted appearance, noticing the telltale signs of strain.

"Harry," Anne's voice held both care and worry as she walked over. She crouched down next to him, gently touching his shoulder to get his attention. "Hey, love."

His eyes blinked open at her touch, his gaze filled with a mixture of surprise and relief as he registered his mother's presence. He managed a small smile, grateful for her being there.

"Mum?" His voice was hoarse, a mix of gratitude and exhaustion.

Anne offered him a soft smile, her fingers brushing a wayward strand of hair from his forehead. "I'm here, Harry."

He pushed himself up in the chair, a mixture of relief and emotions washing over him. He looked at his mother, his eyes red and heavy with sleepless nights, his exhaustion painted across his features like a canvas of worry.

Anne's eyes flickered with concern as she took in his appearance. "Harry, love, you look exhausted. How long have you been here?"

His gaze dropped, a mixture of guilt and weariness weighing heavily on him. "I... I haven't left ‘er side."

Anne's voice was a gentle mix of understanding and concern.

"Oh, Harry." She reached out, her hand gently lifting his chin, guiding his gaze back to her. Her fingers brushed away the tracks of tears that had silently fallen down his cheeks. "You can’t do this alone, my love."

He looked at her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his emotions finally bubbling to the surface. "I know, Mum. But I can't leave her. I can't..."

Anne's touch was soft as she cupped his cheek, her eyes brimming with motherly warmth. "Harry, you need rest too."

He turned his gaze back to yours, his expression one of intense worry and fear. "M’scared, Mum. Scared t’leave ‘er."

Anne's voice held a comforting note as she spoke. "I understand, H. But you need to recharge so you can be strong for (Y/N) and for Alfie."

His eyes met hers, his vulnerability shining through as his voice cracked. "Thank you, Mum. F’being here."

Anne's smile was tender, her thumb brushing his cheek as she wiped away a lingering tear. "Always, Harry. Always."

As their gazes held, the room seemed to fill with a sense of connection, the unbreakable bond of family reminding them that they were not alone in facing the challenges ahead.

Anne's voice held a reassuring note as she spoke once more. "Listen to me, Harry. You need to go home, get a shower, and spend some time with Alfie. He's probably got a lot of questions about where you and (Y/N) are. You can come back right after."

Harry hesitated, his eyes drifting back to you. "But ‘hat if something happens?"

Anne's hand rested on his cheek, her touch warm and grounding. "I'll be here the whole time. I promise, if anything happens, I'll call you right away."

The weight of Anne's reassurance settled over him like a comforting embrace, giving him the permission he needed to take care of himself and his family.

"Okay," he finally nodded, his voice soft and weary. "Okay, Mum."

08:58am.

Harry's car pulled into his manager Jeff's driveway, the engine's soft hum fading into the tranquil neighbourhood. He sat there for a moment, his thoughts a maelstrom of worry and uncertainty. This visit, intended to be a routine pickup of Alfie, had taken on a weight he hadn't expected. He took a deep breath, his grip on the steering wheel tightening briefly before he finally turned off the ignition. For a few lingering seconds, he sat there, his hands resting on the wheel, gathering his strength.

With a deep sigh, Harry opened the car door and stepped onto the pavement. Each step to the front door felt heavy, a silent acknowledgment of the upheaval that had consumed his life. Before he could fully process it, he stood before the door, his knuckles poised to knock. In that fleeting moment, he closed his eyes, as if hoping to find solace in the darkness behind his lids.

The knock resounded through the door, a signal of his presence. As he waited, his heart seemed to echo the rhythm of the universe, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. The door swung open, revealing Jeff, his manager. The lines of concern etched on Jeff's face reflected the tumult that Harry carried within himself.

"Hey, H," Jeff greeted, his voice a mixture of understanding and empathy.

Harry managed a faint smile, though the weariness in his eyes betrayed the facade. "Hey, mate. M’gonna pick up Alf and then take ‘im t’see ‘is mum."

Jeff's eyes softened, recognizing the weight Harry carried. "Yeah, he's inside. Come on in."

Harry stepped into the familiar surroundings, the walls of Jeff's house offering a silent embrace. He took a steadying breath, feeling the weight of his emotions press against his chest. A mixture of memories and apprehensions filled the air, an intangible current that Harry navigated with each step he took.

"Alfie, it's your dad!" Harry's voice carried a blend of warmth and longing, the words directed down the hallway where his son would soon appear.

From within the depths of the house, a small voice responded, "Daddy?"

Harry's heart skipped a beat at the sound of his son's voice. He waited, his gaze fixated on the hallway, his breath caught in his throat.

And then, as if from a distant dream, Alfie burst into view. His face lit up like the sun breaking through the clouds, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he saw his dad. "Daddy!"

A rush of emotion overcame Harry as Alfie ran towards him, his little arms wrapping around his legs in an enthusiastic hug. Harry's own arms encircled his son, holding him close as if he were his anchor in the storm. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, a mixture of relief and tenderness flooding his heart.

" ‘ey, buddy," Harry murmured, his voice tinged with both love and weariness. He knelt down, his fingers ruffling Alfie's hair with a gentleness that only a father could muster.

Alfie looked up at him, his eyes wide with curiosity. "Are we going somewhere, Daddy?"

Harry managed a small, affectionate smile, his heart a tapestry of emotions. "Yea’ Alf. We're going t’go home and then go and see someone."

Alfie's face lit up with a radiant smile, his excitement contagious. "Yay!"

09:16am.

Harry's car rolled to a stop in front of their home, the engine's soft purr fading into the tranquil surroundings. The journey from Jeff's house had been a mixture of quiet conversations and Alfie's enthusiastic recounting of his day. As Harry stepped out of the car, he glanced up at their home, a mixture of warmth and heaviness settling over him. The familiarity of the place was a welcome comfort, yet the weight of the situation cast a shadow over everything.

Alfie bounded out of the car, his small steps carrying a youthful exuberance as he rushed towards the front door. His laughter filled the air as he fumbled with the keys under Harry's watchful eye.

"Alright there, buddy?" Harry's voice carried a mixture of amusement and tenderness.

Alfie looked up at his dad, his eyes dancing with excitement. "Yeah, Daddy! Can we play pirates when we get inside?"

Harry's smile was fond, a genuine reflection of his love for his son. " ‘f’course, mate. We can play pirates."

With the door unlocked, Alfie swung it open with a triumphant grin, his youthful energy infectious. As they stepped inside, the house enveloped them in a familiar embrace, the creak of floorboards and the soft hum of appliances a testament to the life they had built together.

"Daddy, look!" Alfie's voice carried from the living room, his excitement tangible even from a distance.

Harry followed his voice and found Alfie standing amidst a makeshift pirate ship of cushions and blankets. A sense of warmth filled Harry's heart as he watched his son play, the innocence of childhood a precious balm against the storm of emotions that had consumed their lives.

"Great job, Captain Alfie," Harry said with a playful salute, his heart aching with both sadness and a fierce determination to be strong for his son.

As Alfie continued his pirate adventures, Harry's gaze lingered for a moment before he turned and quietly retreated down the hallway. He stepped into the bathroom, the door closing with a soft click. The sound of the running water provided a gentle rhythm, a backdrop to the thoughts that had been hovering at the edges of his mind.

The water cascaded over Harry's body, the warmth soothing his muscles but doing little to ease the ache in his heart. As he stood under the spray, his head bowed, tears mingled with the water, the release of his emotions a quiet catharsis.

He lathered up a razor and carefully shaved, the rhythmic motion offering a small sense of normalcy amidst the chaos. Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and reached for another to dry his hair.

As he moved through the motions of getting dressed, his eyes caught his reflection in the mirror. The image that stared back at him was a complex tapestry of emotions – a father, a husband, a man who was holding onto hope amidst uncertainty.

The tears he had shed in the shower had left traces on his face, a silent testament to the pain he was carrying. But as he looked at himself, there was a quiet strength in his eyes, a resolve to be the pillar of support that his family needed.

With one last glance in the mirror, Harry stepped out of the bathroom, his footsteps carrying him back to the living room where Alfie's laughter echoed. The journey ahead was uncertain, but in the simple moments like this, Harry found the strength to navigate the storm, determined to be the anchor that held his family together.

10:01am.

As they sat in the back of the car, the engine's gentle hum providing a comforting backdrop, Harry stole a glance at Alfie. His son's curious eyes were fixed on the passing scenery, his mind likely filled with questions that he didn't yet know how to voice. Harry took a deep breath, his heart heavy with the task ahead.

" ‘ey, buddy," Harry began, his voice gentle yet tinged with a mixture of sadness and reassurance.

Alfie turned his head to look at his dad, his expression a mix of curiosity and trust. "Yeah, Daddy?"

Harry smiled, his eyes warm with affection. "Y’know how Mummy's not at home right now? She's in the hospital."

Alfie's brows furrowed slightly, his young mind processing the information. "Why is Mummy in the hospital, Daddy?"

Harry sighed softly, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel for a moment before he continued. "Well, y’remember when we talked about how sometimes people get hurt or sick, and doctors help them feel better?"

Alfie nodded, his gaze fixed on his dad's face, absorbing every word.

"Exactly," Harry affirmed. "Mummy got a lil’hurt, ‘n’the doctors are taking care of her t’make sure she gets better."

Alfie's expression shifted to one of concern, his eyes widening slightly. "Is Mummy going to be okay, Daddy?"

Harry's voice held a soothing tone, his hand reaching back to briefly squeeze Alfie's knee. "Ye’,buddy. The doctors are doing everything they can, and we're going t’visit her right now."

Alfie nodded slowly, the weight of the situation evident in his gaze. "Can I see Mummy, Daddy?"

Harry smiled softly, his heart aching at his son's innocence. " f’course, Alf. We're going t’see her together."

As they continued on the journey to the hospital, the atmosphere in the car was a blend of quiet anticipation and unspoken emotions. Harry's grip on the steering wheel was steady, his thoughts a mixture of concern for (Y/N) and a determination to provide comfort and reassurance to Alfie.

"Buddy," Harry said after a moment, his voice gentle, "if y’have any questions or if y’feeling worried, y’can always talk t’me. I'm here f’you."

Alfie's small hand reached out to grasp Harry's, his fingers curling around his dad's hand. "I love you, Daddy."

Tears pricked at the corners of Harry's eyes, his grip on the steering wheel momentarily tightening. "I love you too, Alfie. We're a team, okay? We'll get through this together."

10:35am.

Harry walked into the hospital room, Alfie nestled in his arms, their footsteps quiet against the linoleum floor. The room, typically a place of healing, was filled with an air of uncertainty and tension. Harry's gaze shifted from the floor to the sight that awaited them – you lying still on the bed, your eyes closed, your form a stark contrast to the vibrant woman he knew.

As they entered, Alfie's eyes widened, his gaze immediately drawn to the figure on the bed. He also noticed Anne sat next to the bed,However, this time, the usual excitement that would accompany seeing his grandmother wasn't present. His little body tensed in Harry's arms, his eyes fixated on his mother's still form, the weight of the situation settling over him.

"Daddy," Alfie's voice was a mere whisper, tinged with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty.

Harry held him a bit tighter, his heart aching at the realisation that Alfie was trying to process what he was seeing. "Yea’, buddy?"

Alfie's small hand pointed toward the corner of the room, where Anne stood, her gaze filled with a mix of sympathy and love. Typically, Alfie would have dashed over to her with the energy only a child possessed, but now, he seemed frozen in place.

"Is that Grandma, Daddy?" Alfie's voice was soft, almost hesitant.

Harry nodded, his own eyes briefly meeting Anne's before he turned his attention back to his son. "Yea’, that's Grandma."

Alfie's gaze shifted back to you, his eyes filling with a mixture of emotions that were too complex for his young heart to fully understand. He looked back at Harry, his voice carrying a request that seemed beyond his years. "Daddy, can I go hold Mummy's hand?"

Harry's heart swelled with both sadness and pride at Alfie's resilience. He walked over to the bed, carefully lowering Alfie to the edge of it. "Of course, Alf. Y’can even give her a little cuddle, j’gotta be careful."

Alfie's tiny hand reached out, hesitating for a moment before he gently placed it on your hand, his eyes studying her features as if searching for a sign of life. His other hand rested on your arm, his touch gentle yet filled with an innocence that brought tears to Harry's eyes.

As Alfie leaned in, his small body pressed against his mother's, Harry stood beside them, his emotions a tempest within him. He watched as Alfie's head rested on your chest, his breaths steady, as if seeking solace in the closeness of his mother.

"Y’doing great, buddy," Harry whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

Alfie's voice was soft, a mixture of curiosity and longing. "Is Mummy asleep, Daddy?"

Harry's heart ached at the innocence in his son's question. "Yeah, Alf, she's asleep right now."

Alfie's gaze remained fixed on yours, his small fingers curling around your cold hand. The room held a fragile sense of connection, as if time itself had slowed down to honour the moment. In that stillness, Harry watched his son, his heart both heavy with grief and full of hope for the future.

DAY THREE. 15th August, 2022. — 14:12am.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the hospital room. Harry sat by your side, his gaze fixed on your still form, his thoughts a jumble of hope and uncertainty. Anne had taken Alfie back to the house, giving Harry some time alone with his wife.

As he sat there lost in his thoughts, the door creaked open, and a doctor entered the room. Harry looked up, his eyes meeting the doctor's with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.

"Good morning," the Dr Parker greeted, his voice gentle and reassuring. “How’re you holding up?”

Harry managed a faint smile, his voice carrying a mix of gratitude and fatigue. "Doing m’best, thank you."

Dr. Parker nodded understandingly, his gaze shifting to your form before back to Harry. "I'm here to talk to you about the next steps. Given the circumstances, we'd like to perform an ultrasound to check on the baby."

Harry's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the baby. The mixture of hope and fear that had been his constant companion intensified. "F’course, whatever y’think is best."

A nurse entered the room, carrying the necessary equipment for the ultrasound. She smiled at Harry as she prepared for the procedure. "Hello, I'm Chloe. We'll make sure everything goes smoothly."

Harry offered a small smile in return although it never fully reached his eyes, his eyes shifting between the doctor and the nurse. "Thank you."

As the nurse prepped the ultrasound machine, Dr. Parker explained the procedure to Harry. "We'll be able to see the baby on the screen and check for any signs of distress or complications. It's a routine precautionary measure."

Harry nodded, his fingers involuntarily tracing patterns on your hand. "I understand."

The nurse positioned the ultrasound device on your abdomen, and the monitor came to life, displaying the fuzzy image of the baby. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he saw the tiny figure on the screen – their unborn child, a symbol of hope amid the uncertainty.

He watched as the nurse moved the device, the image shifting slightly, revealing more details of the baby. The room was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the soft hum of the machine.

"There we go," the nurse's voice was gentle, her expertise apparent in the way she manoeuvred the device.

Dr. Parker stood by, her gaze shifting between the screen and Harry's expression. "Everything looks good so far. The baby's heartbeat is strong."

A rush of relief washed over Harry at the doctor's words. He couldn't help but feel a swell of emotion, a mixture of awe and gratitude for the life that was growing within your body.

As the nurse finished the ultrasound, she smiled at Harry. "You have a healthy, strong baby here."

Harry's eyes were fixed on the screen for a moment longer, his voice soft. "Thank you."

The nurse and the doctor left the room, giving Harry some space. He turned his attention back to you, his hand gently resting on your abdomen. The image of their baby, captured on the ultrasound screen, held a promise of better days ahead. As he sat there, a sense of determination settled within him, a resolve to be strong for his family and to hold onto hope, no matter the challenges they faced.

15:05pm.

Later in the afternoon, the room was bathed in a soft, warm light. Harry sat by your bedside, his gaze shifting between your still form and the monitor that displayed the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. The room held a hushed stillness, as if time itself had slowed down in the face of the uncertainty that lay ahead.

Harry's hand rested on your stomach, his touch gentle yet filled with an unspoken tenderness. As he looked at the monitor, his thoughts drifted to the tiny life that was growing within your – their unborn bundle. His heart swelled with a mixture of love and protectiveness.

" ‘Ey there, little one," Harry's voice was soft, his fingers tracing patterns on your abdomen. "Y’mum and I, we're here f’y’We're going t’be strong, just like y’mum."

His gaze shifted to your face, his heart aching at the sight of the bruises that were slowly starting to become more prominent. He reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Y’mum's the strongest person I know, y’know? She's been through s’much, and she's still fighting. Y’going t’be just as strong as her."

A soft smile tugged at Harry's lips as he imagined their future together as a family of four. He leaned down, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your stomach, as if to convey his love and hope directly to their unborn child.

"Y’not alone in this, lil’one," Harry continued, his voice carrying a mixture of reassurance and determination. "We're all in this together. And when y’ready t’meet the world, y’have a whole lot of people who love ye’."

As he spoke, the room seemed to hold a sense of promise, a quiet sanctuary where his words held the power to bridge the gap between the present and the future. Harry's hand remained on your stomach, his touch a physical connection to the life that were growing within her.

"We're going t’get through this, y’and me and y’mum," Harry's voice was a whisper, as if sharing a secret with the unborn baby. "And when y’mum wakes up, we're going t’tell her all about ye’. She's going t’love y’so much."

Harry's gaze shifted back to your face,his heart filled with a mixture of longing and hope. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Hang in there, love. We're all waiting f’you."

As Harry's words hung in the air, the room seemed to hold its breath, as if the universe itself was listening to his heartfelt monologue. His hand remained on your stomach, his touch both tender and resolute. He leaned in, pressing a final kiss to your forehead, a mixture of emotions welling up within him.

And then, in a moment that felt like a miracle, your hand twitches in his hold.

Harry gasped, his heart leaping in his chest. He stared at your hand, disbelief and hope warring within him. Before he could react, the heart rate monitor suddenly went off, the rapid beeping filling the room with urgency.

With a sense of determination, Harry bolted out of the room, his heart pounding in his ears. He found Dr. Parker in the hallway and quickly explained what had just happened – how your hand had moved, triggering the heart rate alarm.

Dr. Parker's eyes widened in surprise and excitement. "Let's not waste any time. Come with me."

Harry followed the doctor back into the room, his pulse racing as they reached your bedside. A sense of tension hung in the air, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

Dr. Parker approached the heart rate monitor, checking the readings and your vitals. His expression was a mix of concentration and cautious hope. He adjusted a few settings on the machines, his fingers moving with practised precision.

"She's trying to breathe on her own," Dr. Parker said, his voice carrying a note of astonishment. "Her body is responding to stimuli."

Harry's heart swelled with a mixture of joy and disbelief. He looked at your figure, his fingers gently brushing against your hand. "Y’doing it, m’love. Y’fighting."

Dr. Parker continued his assessments, his focus unwavering as he monitored the changes in your condition. The room seemed to vibrate with a newfound energy, a sense of possibility that had been absent for so long.

As the minutes ticked by, the heart rate monitor displayed a steadier rhythm, and Dr. Parker nodded in approval. "She's showing signs of improvement. She could wake up at any moment. It's a positive step forward."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes, his voice choked with emotion. "Thank y’Doctor."

18:45pm.

The hospital room was cocooned in the gentle embrace of the night. The soft glow of the dimmed bedside lamp cast a warm and soothing ambiance, casting delicate shadows across the walls. The rhythmic beep of the heart rate monitor punctuated the stillness, a reassuring reminder of the life that pulsed within the room.

Alfie sat nestled on his father's lap, his small frame comfortably settled against Harry's chest. The hospital chair cradled them both, a makeshift throne where father and son formed an intimate fortress of love and togetherness. Harry's arms wrapped protectively around Alfie, holding him close as they shared the moment.

Alfie's concentrated expression was etched with a mixture of focus and determination. His tiny fingers clutched a pencil, his brow furrowing as he tackled the math problems that were laid out before him on the sheet of paper. Harry watched with a blend of admiration and amusement, his heart swelling at the sight of Alfie's dedication.

"Okay, buddy," Harry's voice was a gentle blend of guidance and encouragement, "y’got this. J’add those numbers together."

Alfie's tongue peeked out from between his lips as he concentrated, his eyes narrowing in concentration. The tip of the pencil move with purpose, crossing out digits and jotting down numbers. Every so often, Alfie would glance up at Harry, his gaze seeking validation and assurance.

Harry's fingers gently brushed the back of Alfie's head, offering silent encouragement. "Y’doing great, Alf. Keep going."

The two of them formed a heartwarming tableau, a portrait of fatherly support and shared effort. Amid the beeping monitors and the hushed hum of the hospital, Harry and Alfie created their own small world, a world in which challenges were met with determination and love was expressed through shared moments.

And then, in the midst of the quietude, a movement caught Harry's attention. His eyes shifted from the maths problems to the bed, where you lay, and his heart ricocheted against his rib cage.

Your eyes were open and staring at your two boys.

“(Y/N)?” Harry spoke in a hushed whisper as you tried to smile at him.

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 2 months

Text

Boys Day Out.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - these new pictures are making me go feral, like his hair grew back so quick and ngl im absolutely loving it 🥰

word count - 2.8k

in which, manchester united are playing luton town fc in the premier league, and so what better thing to do then take your two football obsessed children to watch there favourite team hopefully win.

Friday 16th February, 2024.

Last Friday was a rare moment of tranquility in your household.

You sat nestled in your shared bed, Harry's arm draped around your waist, pulling you close. As you lost yourself in the pages of your book, you couldn't help but steal glances at him, admiring the way his eyes sparkled with every scroll on his phone.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm aura around the room, creating a peaceful atmosphere that enveloped you both. With each shared smile and whispered exchange, the bond between you grew stronger, weaving a tapestry of love and companionship that filled the space between you.

As the subtle silence enveloped the room, Harry gently broke it, his voice filled with excitement. "Y’know, m’love, I was thinking... How about taking the boys to the Manchester United match on Sunday? A mate has a few tickets spare. It would be a fantastic day out for them, and I reckon it'd do you good to have some time for yourself."

You paused, considering his suggestion. " H, I don't mind staying with the boys. Besides, it's a big game, and they might get restless."

Harry shook his head, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "Nonsense, they'll love it! And you deserve a break, you do so much for them already. Plus, it'll be a chance for me to bond with the boys, just the three of us."

You couldn't help but smile at his earnestness.

"I suppose it would be nice to have a bit of me-time," you admitted, though still hesitant about leaving the boys for the day.

Seeing your uncertainty, Harry took your hand in his, his gaze softening. "Trust me, m’love, it'll be a day they'll never forget. Besides, it'll give you a chance to relax and unwind, do whatever you fancy without worrying about the boys."

His words warmed your heart, and you found yourself nodding, a sense of relief washing over you.

"Okay, you've convinced me. Let's make it a boys' day out on Sunday," you agreed, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of a few hours of peace and quiet.

Sunday 18th February, 2024.

Harry navigated his Range Rover through the familiar streets, the excitement palpable in the air as they neared Kenilworth town where the football match awaited.

In the backseat, Cameron, his eight-year-old son, gazed out of the window with a mix of wonder and anticipation, his Manchester United kit proudly worn.

Cameron Harry Styles was conceived only five months into yours and Harry’s relationship, it definitely came as a shock seeing as he was only twenty-two, but he absolutely wouldn’t change it for the world.

"Dad, do you think Rashford will score today?" Cameron asked eagerly, his eyes alight with excitement.

Harry glanced at Cameron through the rearview mirror, a smile playing on his lips.

"M’reckon he's got a good chance, Cam. But y’know how football is, anything can happen," he replied, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, in the other car seat Dexter Robin Styles, your youngest child who was conceived on your honeymoon.

Dexter, just turned two, slept soundly in his car seat, blissfully unaware of the excitement surrounding him. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his youngest son, his heart swelling with love.

"Look at him, out like a light already," he remarked to Cameron.

Cameron grinned back, his excitement bubbling over.

"We can wake him up when we get there, Daddy," he declared confidently, already planning the day ahead in his mind. "I can't wait to see the players up close!"

The journey continued for another half an hour, the excitement building with each passing mile. Cameron peppered Harry with questions about the match, his eagerness infectious as they drew closer to the stadium. Dexter stirred in his sleep occasionally, but Cameron kept a watchful eye on him, eager to share every moment of the adventure with his little brother.

Finally, they pulled up in the stadium's private car park, greeted by the bustling atmosphere of fellow fans and the distant sounds of cheers from inside. Harry turned off the engine, glancing back at his sons with a grin.

As Harry stepped out of the car, he made his way around to Dexter's car seat, his heart full of anticipation for the day ahead. Gently, he opened the door and leaned in to wake his youngest son.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he murmured softly, giving Dexter a gentle shake. "It's time to wake up, buddy."

Dexter stirred, his eyelids fluttering as he slowly emerged from his deep slumber.

"Daddy?" he mumbled, his voice groggy from sleep. "Carry me, please?"

Harry couldn't help but smile at his son's request, knowing full well that Dexter was a total daddy's boy.

"Of course, little man," he replied, ready to scoop Dexter up into his arms. "You ready for some football?"

Dexter nodded, rubbing his eyes with tiny fists. "Yeah, football!" he exclaimed, his voice still laced with sleepiness.

Harry chuckled softly, planting a kiss on Dexter's forehead.

"That's right, buddy. But first, we need to get you out of this car seat," he said, gently manoeuvring Dexter's sleepy limbs.

Meanwhile, Cameron had already made his way out of the car and stood next to his father, his hand clasped firmly in Harry's.

"I can't wait to see the players, Daddy!" he exclaimed, his excitement palpable.

Harry chuckled, ruffling Cameron's hair affectionately.

"I know, buddy. It's going to be an amazing day," he replied, his heart swelling with love for his two sons.

The stadium wasn’t that busy, but that may be because the match didn’t kick off for another hour.

No one had managed to spot him thus far, so it was all smooth sailing.

Dexter was still in his arms, thumb in his mouth and Cameron was holding his fathers hand, his shoulder length curls tied back in a loose man bun that you had done this morning.

As they made their way through the bustling stadium, Cameron's stomach rumbled loudly, coincidently as they passed a nearby food stand.

Oh how he craved some warm food right now.

"Daddy, m’hungry!" he exclaimed, tugging on Harry's hand.

Harry chuckled. "Hungry, huh? Remember, it's not 'want', it's 'would like'," he gently corrected, trying to instill good manners in his son.

Cameron nodded eagerly, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the food stand.

"Okay, Daddy. Can I have a slice of pizza, please?" he asked politely, his stomach grumbling impatiently.

Harry smiled, proud of Cameron's manners.

"Of course, buddy. Let's see what they have," he replied, leading the way to the queue.

As they waited in line, Harry turned to Dexter, who was still cradled in his arms.

"And what about you, Dex? Would y’like anything to drink?" he asked, brushing a stray lock of hair from Dexter's forehead.

Dexter nodded enthusiastically, his eyes wide with excitement.

"Fruit shoot, please, Daddy!" he chirped, his little voice filled with anticipation.

He should have guessed.

Harry chuckled, planting a kiss on Dexter's cheek.

"Fruit shoot it is, champ," he replied, making a mental note to grab a couple of bottles for the boys.

Finally reaching the front of the queue, Harry ordered a slice of pizza for Cameron and a couple of fruit shoots for Dexter. As they walked away from the food stand, Cameron eagerly bit into his slice, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. And with Dexter happily sipping on his fruit shoot.

In the stands of the bustling stadium, Harry sat between his two boys, each in their own seat. Dexter, perched proudly in his own seat, had insisted on being a "big boy" for the match, his determination shining through as he sat upright, his legs swinging with excitement.

Though still too young to fully grasp the intricacies of the game, Dexter's eyes sparkled with wonder as he took in the sights and sounds of the stadium, his tiny hands gripping the edge of his seat in anticipation.

Cameron, on the other hand, was completely engrossed in the action on the field. With his Manchester United scarf wrapped around his neck and his eyes fixed on the players, he leaned forward eagerly, his heart racing with each pass and shot. His passion for the game was palpable, his entire being consumed by the thrill of the match unfolding before him.

As the game entered its fifth minute, Manchester United surged ahead with an early goal, igniting a chorus of cheers from the crowd.

Harry couldn't help but smile as he watched the excitement ripple through Cameron, his son's eyes shining with pure joy. And beside him, Dexter's infectious laughter filled the air, a constant reminder of the simple pleasures of being together as a family.

As the game entered its seventh minute, Manchester United's Rasmus Højlund seized an opportunity and scored a magnificent goal, sending the stadium into a frenzy of cheers and applause.

Cameron, unable to contain his excitement, leapt up from his seat, his eyes wide with jubilation as he started jumping up and down.

"Yes! Go, United!" he shouted, his voice filled with exhilaration.

Beside him, Dexter watched with wide-eyed wonder, not quite understanding what had just happened.

Sensing his confusion, Harry leaned down and whispered in Dexter's ear, "Dexter, our team just scored a goal! Isn't that exciting?"

Dexter's face lit up with understanding, and he clambered down from his seat, his tiny legs carrying him over to stand in front of Harry.

With a beaming smile, he reached out for Cameron's hand, eager to join in the celebration.

"Goal! Goal!" he exclaimed, mimicking his older brother's excited jumps.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his two boys jumping up and down in unison, their laughter echoing through the stadium. Quickly pulling out his phone, he aimed the camera at them, capturing the precious moment for posterity.

As the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the match with Manchester United emerging victorious with a score of 2-1, Cameron was buzzing with excitement. He bounced around, his energy infectious as he reveled in his team's triumph.

Meanwhile, Dexter, nestled contentedly in Harry's arms, gazed up at his father with sleepy eyes, still basking in the excitement of the game.

Unbeknownst to the boys, Harry had a surprise in store for them. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he decided to keep it a secret until the perfect moment. As they made their way out of the stadium, Cameron and Dexter assumed they were heading home, completely unaware of the surprise awaiting them.

A kind-hearted stadium staff member, noticing the boys' enthusiasm for the game, discreetly approached Harry and whispered about a special opportunity to visit the dressing room of Manchester United. Sensing the boys' excitement, Harry nodded gratefully, knowing that this unexpected treat would be the perfect end to an already unforgettable day.

They soon arrived at the changing rooms.

"Daddy, where are we going?" Cameron asked, his voice tinged with excitement and curiosity. Before Harry could respond, the door swung open, revealing a sight that left Cameron speechless.

His eyes widened in awe as he took in the scene before him—the dressing room of Manchester United, filled with his favorite players. For a moment, Cameron was rendered silent, his mouth hanging open in disbelief as he stood in the presence of his idols.

Meanwhile, Dexter, wide awake and brimming with enthusiasm, squirmed in Harry's arms, eager to explore. Spotting one of the players nearby, he wiggled free and dashed over without hesitation, his extroverted nature shining through as he greeted the player with a wide grin and a burst of chatter.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Dexter's boldness, his heart swelling with pride at his son's fearlessness. As Dexter chatted animatedly with the player, Harry followed after him, a fond smile on his face as he watched his youngest son soak up the moment with unbridled joy.

Beside him, Cameron held onto Harry's trouser leg tightly, his shyness evident as he observed the scene with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Harry knelt down beside him, offering reassurance and encouragement.

"S’okay, Cam. They're just regular people, like you and me," he whispered, gently squeezing Cameron's hand in support.

Harry noticed Cameron's apprehension and knelt down beside him, offering a reassuring smile and a comforting squeeze of his hand.

"S’okay, buddy. Y’don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to," he whispered gently, understanding his son's discomfort.

As the bustling activity in the dressing room continued, a familiar figure approached the trio.

It was Marcus Rashford, Cameron's favorite footballer.

The moment Cameron caught sight of him, his eyes widened in awe, and he instinctively tightened his grip on Harry's hand.

Harry smiled warmly as Marcus crouched down to Cameron's level.

"Hey there, buddy! Did you enjoy the game?" Marcus asked, his voice gentle and friendly.

Cameron nodded eagerly, his heart pounding with excitement.

"Y-yes! It wa-was amazing! Y-you're my favorite player," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with nervousness.

Marcus grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Thank you, mate! That means a lot to me. What's your name?" he asked, reaching out to ruffle Cameron's hair.

"C-Cameron," he replied, his voice trembling with excitement. "I-I've always wanted to be like you when I play football with my team."

Marcus's smile widened at Cameron's words.

"That's fantastic, Cameron! Keep working hard, and who knows, maybe one day you'll be playing for Manchester United too," he encouraged, his words filled with genuine warmth and encouragement.

Encouraged by Marcus's friendly demeanor, Cameron slowly began to relax. With Harry's reassuring presence beside him, he found the courage to step out from behind his father's leg and engage in conversation with his idol.

Harry, holding onto Dexter with his other hand to prevent him from wandering off again, watched proudly as Cameron and Marcus chatted animatedly. Despite Cameron's initial nervousness, his admiration for Marcus shone through, and Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his son's bravery.

And as they continued to talk, Cameron's stutter gradually faded away, replaced by an excited chatter as he eagerly shared his love for football with his idol. In that moment, surrounded by his father's support and the friendly encouragement of Marcus Rashford, Cameron felt like anything was possible.

As their conversation with Marcus continued, he noticed the excitement radiating from both Cameron and Dexter.

With a warm smile, Marcus gently interrupted their chatter.

"Hey guys, would you like to take a photo together?" he offered, extending his arms towards them.

Cameron's eyes lit up with excitement, while Dexter's face broke into a wide grin.

"Yes, please!" Cameron exclaimed, eager to capture the moment with their idol.

Marcus chuckled warmly as he scooped Dexter into one arm and Cameron into the other.

"Alright, let's get a picture," he said, positioning them carefully for the shot.

As Marcus held onto the boys, he glanced over at Harry, who stood nearby, watching with a proud smile.

"Would you like to join us in the photo?" Marcus asked, extending an invitation to Cameron and Dexter's father.

Harry's heart swelled with gratitude at the gesture.

"Absolutely," he replied, stepping forward to join the group.

With Harry now in the frame, another player from the team stepped forward to take the photo.

"Say cheese!" he called out, readying the camera.

Cameron, Dexter, and Harry beamed with excitement as the photo was taken, capturing the moment they shared with Marcus Rashford. As the shutter clicked, Harry felt a sense of overwhelming gratitude, knowing that this experience would be a cherished memory for years to come.

After the photo was taken, Cameron ran straight over to Harry, his eyes shining with tears of joy.

"Daddy, I love you so much! This has been the best day ever!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around Harry in a tight hug.

Touched by Cameron's heartfelt words, Harry wrapped his arms around his son, holding him close.

"I love you too, Cam. M’so glad we could share this special moment together," he replied, his voice filled with emotion.

Feeling left out of the hug, Dexter toddled over, his arms outstretched.

"Me too! Hug, Daddy!" he chimed in, joining the embrace with a giggle.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Dexter's enthusiasm, his heart overflowing with love for his two sons. Pulling them both close, he held them tightly, savoring the moment of pure happiness and love.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, laughter mingled with tears of joy. In that moment, surrounded by the love of his family, Harry felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the beautiful memories they had created together. And as they headed home, hand in hand, he knew that this day would be etched in their hearts forever.

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 1 month

Text

School Pick Up.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here !!

authors note - these photos just screamed dad!harry so enjoy ☺️

word count - 700

in which, harrys on school pick up duties for his little one, and it’s his babies favourite time of the day when he sees his best friend, his father standing at the gates.

Harry stood patiently at the school gates, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow around him. His daughter, Indigo, was finishing up her day in school any moment now, and he couldn't wait to see her.

With his signature pink phone case pressed to his ear, he listened intently to his wife, (Y/N), who was asking him to stop by the shop on the way home to get some bread.

"Hey, lovie, everything okay?" Harry greeted warmly, a smile playing on his lips as he leaned against the gate.

"Hi, H. Could you do me a favour and pick up some bread on your way home? We're fresh out, and you know how Indi loves her beans on toast after school," (Y/N) requested, her voice carrying a hint of urgency.

Ah, of course.

Since Indigo had started school back in September, each day after school either you or harry would whip her up some beans on toast, it was like her little treat for getting through the school day because god knows she hated going to that place.

Most morning you would drop her off and she would be hysterical, clinging onto you like a tearful little monkey crying out that she wanted her ‘daddy!’

"Of course, no problem. Anything else you need?" Harry replied, already mentally adding bread to his list of errands.

"No, that's it for now. If I remember anything else I’ll text you, Thanks, baby," (Y/N) said gratefully, her tone softening with appreciation.

"You're welcome, lovie. See you soon," Harry said, already looking forward to their reunion.

As the school bell rang, signalling the end of the day, Indigo's teacher led her class out of the building. Being in reception, Indigo's class was among the first year groups to come out.

The children, still buzzing with energy from the day's activities, chattered excitedly as they followed their teacher in a neat line.

Indigo, with paint smudges on her uniform and her brown hair now a tousled mess from a day of play, eagerly scanned the crowd of parents waiting at the gate.

Her heart leaped with joy when she spotted her dad, leaning against the gates. With her bag hanging off her shoulder, she couldn't contain her excitement.

"Mr Anderson, look, there's my daddy!" Indigo exclaimed, tugging at her teacher's sleeve to get her attention.

Her teacher smiled warmly and nodded, understanding Indigo's eagerness to reunite with her father. "Go on, Indigo. Have a wonderful evening."

With her teacher's permission, Indigo dashed towards Harry, her small feet barely touching the ground as she called out,

"Daddy!"

Harry's heart melted at the sight of his daughter running towards him. He pushed himself off the gate and opened his arms wide, ready to catch her.

As Indigo reached him, she threw herself into his embrace, her laughter filling the air.

"Hey, my indi girl!" Harry greeted, lifting Indigo up and spinning her around, his heart brimming with love and joy.

Harry placed her down on the floor before heleaned down to Indigo's level, a playful glint in his eyes. "How was school today, sweetheart?"

Indigo's face lit up with excitement as she recounted her day. "It was really good, Daddy! I played with my friend Tommy, and we made a castle out of blocks in the sandbox."

Harry chuckled, tousling her hair affectionately. "Tommy, huh? Sounds like y’had a blast. But y’know the rule, no boyfriends until you're thirty-five, alright?"

Indigo wrinkled her nose in mock disgust. "Ew, no, Daddy! Tommy's not my boyfriend. Boys are yucky!"

Harry couldn't help but laugh at her exaggerated reaction. "Oh, really now? Well, s’a relief. M’not ready for you to have a boyfriend just yet."

Indigo nodded vigorously, her brown hair bouncing with each movement. "Me neither, Daddy! Boys are gross!"

Harry smiled, feeling a surge of affection for his daughter's innocence. He squeezed her hand gently, grateful for these lighthearted moments together. "S’my girl. You focus on having fun and being yourself. No need to worry about boys just yet."

Indigo grinned up at him, her dimples deepening. "Okay, Daddy! I'll remember that."

"Alright, Indi, it's time to go home and see Mummy," Harry said, gently guiding his daughter away from the school gates.

Harry brushed his finger over her knuckles, “You know what that means indi girl?”

She gleamed up at him, dimples shining. Before exclaiming:

“Beans On Toast!”

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 5 months

Text

Do You Still Love Me?

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

in which, harrys been acting shifty lately, when your looking for a shirt in his wardrobe, he gets hostile, when you say your going to go and shower, he gets hostile and for some reason doubts start to creep into your mind about what he’s been doing, so when you confront him about it, he tells you of his secret all along.

word count - 3.1k

23rd December, 2023.

The December air in Holmes Chapel holds a crisp chill, and as you sit in the cozy living room of Harry's family home in Manchester, the warmth envelops you. The room is adorned with festive cheer – a beautifully decorated Christmas tree takes center stage, casting a soft glow of twinkling lights.

The two of you had decided to spend Christmas at his family’s like you do every year, you’ve blended into a member of there family, as if you were always there. Anne considered you as another daughter, and sometimes on accident you sometimes referred to Gemma as your sister, so spending Christmas with them was undoubtedly a no brainer.

You were going to be staying for a total of three weeks, arriving two weeks before the big day and then going home January 1st.

You find comfort on the sofa, admiring the personalized stockings that hang from the mantelpiece, proudly displaying everyone’s initials. One for Harry, one for you, one for Gemma, one for Anne as well as one that is put up every year, an R, for everyone’s angel Robin. The stockings serve as a poignant reminder of the shared holiday traditions and the presence of loved ones, including a thoughtful tribute to his late stepfather.

As you await Harry's return from the grocery shop with his mother and sister, you revel in the tranquility of the moment. The crackling fireplace adds a soothing soundtrack to the scene, enhancing the coziness of the room. You can't help but reflect on the significance of spending Christmas in this familiar space, filled with memories of the past four years.

However, amidst the festive atmosphere, a subtle unease lingers. Lately, you've observed a shift in Harry's demeanor. His actions and words have become increasingly shifty, leaving you with a sense of uncertainty.

He dances around conversations, offering vague responses that only intensify your curiosity. It's a stark contrast to the openness and connection you've shared over the years, causing a quiet concern to settle within you.

You gaze at the stockings once more, the embroidered initials a testament to the bonds that tie your lives together. Yet, as you sit in the glow of the Christmas lights, a question lingers in the air – a question you can't quite bring yourself to voice. The flickering flames cast shadows on the wall, mirroring the uncertainty that clouds your thoughts, which happen to consist of the three moments that you’ve caught him acting weird.

15th December, 2023.

The date was December 15th, and the evening held a quiet tension as you sat on the sofa in Harry's family home, the soft glow of lamplight illuminating the room.

Anne, occupied herself with knitting a jumper, a rhythmic pattern of needles clacking together in the stillness. The warmth of the room, usually comforting, now seemed to underscore an unspoken discomfort.

Around eight at night, the front door creaked open, and Harry entered, an unusual weariness etched across his features.

He had gone out around two, and it was now evening, he just explained to you that a few friends from school wanted to meet up before Christmas, but there was a hint of doubt that remained in your brain.

You couldn't help but inquire about his whereabouts, a hint of concern in your voice.

"Where've you been, Harry?" you asked, eyes searching his face for answers. He shrugged nonchalantly, a vague response that only deepened the unease settling in the room.

Attempting to break through the tension, you pressed further, a furrow forming on your brow. "What's wrong?"

The question hung in the air, met with a dismissive reply.

"Just tired, m’love. Think I might hit the hay early tonight," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. The words lingered, laden with unspoken weight, leaving you with a sense of disquiet.

As Harry made his way toward the stairs, you couldn't let the matter rest. Concern etched across your face, you followed him, determined to understand the source of his unease. His hand halted you mid-step, a silent plea for space. Unbeknownst to you that it pained him, because he was doing it for the right reason.

"I'd like t’be alone for a little bit," he uttered, the distance in his eyes leaving you feeling shut out.

Left standing at the foot of the staircase, a chasm seemed to widen between you and Harry. The uncertainty echoed in the air, and as he ascended the stairs, the door to understanding remained firmly closed. The normally familiar and comforting surroundings felt alien, the clinking of Anne's knitting needles a somber soundtrack to the unspoken rift.

That night, as you lay in bed, questions lingered in the darkness. The echoes of Harry's vague responses resonated, and a sense of foreboding cast a shadow over what was once a haven of warmth and connection.

19th December, 2023.

The chill of December hangs in the air as you step through the front door, returning from the farmers market with Gemma. The aroma of fresh produce lingers on your clothes, and a shiver runs down your spine as the warmth of the cozy living room beckons.

The house is quiet, save for the faint sounds emanating from the kitchen, where Harry is preparing a cup of coffee for himself.

You navigate the familiar space, following the scent of brewing coffee that wafts through the air. The kitchen is dimly lit, and there he is, Harry, standing by the counter, lost in the quiet ritual of making coffee. His silhouette is a comforting sight, a presence that adds to the warmth of the home.

You make your way up the steps, wanting to be comfy when you greet your lover boy.

The December cold clings to your skin, urging you to shed the layers of the outside world. A yearning for warmth and comfort consumes you, and the thought of slipping into one of Harry's oversized shirts becomes a tempting refuge. The familiarity of his presence in the adjacent room promises solace in the face of the winter chill.

As you move toward the bedroom, the creaking floorboards beneath your feet seem to echo in the quietude of the house.

Gemma strolled into the kitchen, the door swinging gently behind her. She found her brother,

Harry, leaning against the counter, sipping on a cup of coffee. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee beans hung in the air as he greeted her with a cheerful " ‘Ey, how was the market?"

Gemma looked up, offering a warm smile. "It was good, got some nice stuff.

Harry hummed before tilting his head to the side. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

Gemma mirrored his smile, her eyes lighting up. "She went upstairs to get changed, though."

Harry nodded, his attention momentarily diverted as he took another sip of his coffee. However, a realisation dawned on him, and he furrowed his brow. "Wait, she's upstairs?"

Gemma, unaware of the subtle shift in Harry's demeanor, nodded. "Yeah, she mentioned wanting to warm up and change. Why?"

Harry's gaze darted toward the staircase, a sudden sense of urgency gripping him.

"No reason, just wanted t’check on ‘er. Be right back," he said, placing his coffee mug on the counter.

With a quick stride, he headed toward the stairs, a mild curiosity turning into a subtle concern. As he ascended, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. When he reached the top of the staircase, he spotted you about to enter the bedroom, ready to change.

"Hold on a sec," he called out, hastily covering the distance to stand before you, his expression a mix of surprise and tension. "Y’not allowed in there."

Because in his head, if you wanted to get changed, you’d go to his section of the wardrobe because he knows that you’d want one of his shirts, and then you’d find the surprise and he wasn’t planning on ruining that any time soon.

You paused, mid-step, your brow furrowing. "What do you mean, not allowed? H, I'm just getting changed."

His features tightened with an unexpected intensity. "I said, y’not allowed in there," he repeated, the words hanging heavily in the air.

Confusion and concern painted your expression as you took a step back. "Harry, what's going on? Why can't I go into our bedroom?"

His gaze remained fixed, a wall building between you two. "Just... not right now. I need Don't go in there."

You sighed, a heavy breath escaping you, and nodded in resignation. "Fine, whatever. Just get me some clothes, please."

Harry's shoulders tensed, and he hesitated before nodding. "Ye’okay. I'll get y’some clothes."

22nd December, 2023.

You can't help but replay the scenes in your mind—the December evenings, the vague responses, the moments when he seemed to withdraw. Each memory adds a layer of doubt, and as you connect the dots, a stray tear rolls down your face. The fear of him cheating on you lingers, casting a shadow over the warmth that once permeated your shared space.

The absence of Harry, his mother, and sister intensifies the solitude, and the room feels emptier than ever. The Christmas tree, adorned with memories, offers little solace in the face of the growing suspicion. You contemplate the significance of the three instances, questioning the foundation of trust that once defined your relationship.

In the quiet of the room, the tear on your cheek becomes a silent witness to the emotional turmoil within. The fear of betrayal, the uncertainty, and the unanswered questions create a palpable tension, leaving you to grapple with the haunting possibility that the person you love may be slipping away.

As the front door creaks open, signaling their return from the grocery shopping trip, Harry, his mother, and sister step into the living room. The warmth of familial greetings fills the air, and they collectively acknowledge your presence with smiles and hellos. The shared laughter and banter among them, however, are met with a strained silence on your part.

As Harry approaches, intending to seal the reunion with a customary kiss, you rise from the sofa. The heaviness in the room seems to amplify as you avoid his attempt at affection. You make a deliberate choice to distance yourself, turning away from the warmth that once brought solace and comfort.

With measured steps, you ascend the staircase, each footfall echoing a growing emotional distance. The decision to retreat upstairs becomes a silent declaration of your need for space, a momentary escape from the complexities that have woven themselves into your relationship. The unanswered questions and the lingering fear make it challenging to engage in the familial camaraderie that unfolds below.

As you walk away and ascend the stairs, the atmosphere in the living room subtly shifts. Anne, Harry's mother, notices the change in dynamics and glances at her son, concerned etching her features.

"Everything alright, love?" she asks, a mother's intuition sensing the unspoken tension.

Harry, removing his jacket and shoes, offers a dismissive smile. "Ye’, just gonna check on (Y/N) . Be right back."

His attempt to brush off the situation adds a layer of ambiguity to the air, leaving Anne with a lingering worry that she can't quite shake.

Upstairs, Harry follows in your footsteps, the silence between you palpable. As he enters the room, he finds you standing near the window, gazing out into the night.

"Ey’," he begins tentatively, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. "S’going on? Are y’okay?"

Tearfully, you turn around to face him, emotions laid bare in your eyes. The air is thick with a mixture of sorrow and uncertainty as you pose a question that lingers in the silent space,

"Do you still love me?"

The vulnerability in your voice cuts through the room, leaving an atmosphere heavy with the anticipation of his response. Harry, caught off guard by the rawness of the question, searches your eyes for understanding.

Harry, caught off guard, furrows his brow defensively. "F’course, I do. Why would y’even think otherwise?"

His tone carries a mixture of hurt and frustration, an instinctive response to the implication that the love between you might be in question.

The room becomes charged with an anguished tension as you gather the courage to voice the unspoken concerns that have festered. "It's just... you've been acting so differently lately. There are these moments, these instances when you seem so distant. I can't help but feel like there's something you're not telling me."

Harry's defensive stance persists as he denies any wrongdoing.

"M’don't know what y’talking about. S’nothing going on," he insists, avoiding eye contact. The weight of his denial adds another layer to the unease in the room, leaving you to grapple with the growing chasm between you two.

The frustration builds, and you press further, "Harry, you can't just brush this off. It feels like you're hiding something, and I deserve to know what's going on."

The plea in your voice is met with a guarded expression from Harry, his defensive walls standing tall.

The room seems to tighten with each passing moment, the emotional stakes escalating.

"M’not hiding anything," Harry asserts, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Y’reading into things, making a big deal out f’nothing."

As the back-and-forth continues, a sense of despair settles in.

"Harry, I need honesty. We can't move forward if you keep shutting me out," you implore, the depth of your emotions exposed. Yet, his walls remain intact, and the elusive nature of the truth becomes a palpable barrier.

The echoes of their laughter from downstairs seem like distant memories now, drowned out by the intensity of the conversation unfolding.

"Just tell me, Harry. Tell me what's going on,the time you stopped me coming upstairs with you, the time you stopped me coming into the bedroom and had a go at me for wanting to go on your phone " you plead, your voice cracking under the weight of the unresolved tension.

The emotional exchange reaches a breaking point, leaving you on the floor, sobbing, desperate for answers. The weight of the uncertainty, the unspoken tensions, and the fear of losing the connection you once cherished overwhelm you. The room becomes a backdrop for your vulnerability, the walls echoing with the sound of your heartache.

Amidst your tears, you hear Harry sigh, and the rustle of a box catches your attention. He crouches down beside you, the heaviness in the air momentarily shifting.

"Look at m’please," he implores gently, his voice carrying a tone of sincerity that cuts through the emotional fog.

Hesitant, you raise your tear-stained eyes to meet his. His gaze holds a mixture of regret and determination, and he asks you to stand up. Every fiber of your being is hesitant, a cocktail of emotions bubbling beneath the surface. Reluctantly, you rise, uncertainty written all over your face.

As you stand, Harry, now on one knee, pulls out a small box. The room seems to hold its breath as he meets your gaze.

"V’been acting shifty because v’been planning this," he confesses, his voice soft yet earnest. "I wanted it t’be a surprise, but the timing... it just got all messed up."

"From the moment we met, m’life gained a sparkle that I never knew I needed. V’been m’confidante, m’partner in laughter, and the steady warmth that completes every corner of m’world. These past four years ‘ave been a journey f’growth, laughter, and endless love. Y’seen me at m’best and m’worst, yet y’loved m’unwaveringly."

He lets out a soft sigh. “Will y’make m’the happiest person in the world and say yes?"

Overwhelmed by the heartfelt speech and the flood of emotions, you fall into Harry's waiting arms, the warmth of his embrace grounding you in the reality of the moment. His arms wrap securely around you, and you find solace in the familiar comfort of his presence. With tears of joy streaming down your face, you look into his eyes, a silent affirmation of the love that binds you.

In a tender exchange, you press a loving kiss to his lips, the connection deepening as the weight of the proposal lifts from the room.

"Yes," you whisper against his lips, the word echoing with the promise of a shared future.

"Yes, Harry, a thousand times yes," you repeat, each affirmation punctuating the joy that now fills the space between you.

The room seems to shimmer with the shared happiness, and Harry holds you closer, his own eyes reflecting the relief and joy of the moment.

"I love you," he murmurs, the words a gentle reassurance that lingers in the air.

Harry tenderly tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch a gentle reassurance.

"M’sorry f’being so sneaky and, well, a bit harsh," he admits, sincerity coloring his gaze. "I just wanted the proposal t’be a surprise, but I guess v’already messed that up."

A light laugh escapes him, the sound a blend of amusement and relief. "Guess I couldn't keep it under wraps as well as I thought."

You join in the laughter, finding the humor in the unexpected twists of the evening.

"Well, surprise or not, it's the most wonderful thing that could have happened. I can't wait to be Mrs. Styles," you express, your eyes reflecting the genuine excitement that courses through you.

Harry's eyes soften with affection as he hears those words, and he leans in to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

"M’can't wait either, m’love," he whispers, his voice carrying the promise of a shared future.

The room becomes a haven of shared laughter, love, and the promise of forever. Harry, still on one knee, takes your hand and delicately kisses the engagement ring.

"S’ring represents the love we've shared and the life we're about t’build together," he says, his words a poignant acknowledgment of the significance of the moment.

The room, once filled with questions and uncertainty, is now brimming with the certainty of love and the anticipation of a future together as Mr. and Mrs. Styles.

736 notes · View notes

musicforastylesrestaurant · 10 months

Text

Airport Chaos.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - seeing how agitated that harry looked when he was just trying to get out of the car actually made me so cross, just be grateful that you got to see him, learn to give people personal space.

word count - 2.5k

in which, harry’s just finished his show in barcelona, and is en-route to madrid, but there’s one more hurdle that needs to be jumped when fans bombard him, you and your one year old son finley. this results in a very agitated harry, a tearful toddler and a wife that’s claustrophobic.

As the car glides through the vibrant streets of Barcelona, a serene ambiance envelops you and your family, casting a veil of tranquillity over the world around you. The bustling energy of the city has retired for the night, leaving behind an exquisite symphony of solitude.

As your car glides along the deserted thoroughfares, the city unveils its timeless secrets. The ancient buildings, guardians of Barcelona's rich history, stand tall and proud, their façades adorned with intricate details and ornate balconies. Illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights, their colors dance in harmony with the moonlit sky, creating a spellbinding kaleidoscope of hues.

The streets, devoid of the usual crowds, are yours to explore, each corner leading you deeper into the heart of this vibrant metropolis. The gentle breeze whispers through the leaves of towering trees, lending a symphony of rustling whispers to the nocturnal symphony. Their branches reach out like gentle arms, swaying gracefully overhead, creating a celestial canopy above the cobblestone lanes.

Occasionally, you catch glimpses of life seeping through the silence. A few solitary figures make their way along the sidewalk, their silhouettes casting elongated shadows upon the ground. Some are still adorned in the attire of a long workday, their weary steps echoing the rhythm of a day well-spent. Others, just beginning their nocturnal duties, are cloaked in the promise of a vibrant night ahead. Their presence adds a touch of mystique to the ethereal scenery, reminding you of the shared humanity that underlies the city's nocturnal tapestry.

The intoxicating scent of the sea lingers in the air, carried by the zephyrs that dance through the city streets. It mingles with the aromas of nearby cafés and restaurants, teasing your senses and igniting a hunger for adventure. The distant echoes of laughter and faint strains of music beckon, hinting at hidden pockets of life that come alive when the sun sets.

The drive continues with you cradling your sleeping one year old son, Finley, in your arms. His tiny mouth remained gently attached to your breast, having drifted off while nursing in the backseat after Harry's exhilarating concert. The rise and fall of his contented breaths provided a soothing soundtrack to the journey ahead.

You, Harry, and Finley were en route to Barcelona–El Prat Airport, preparing to catch a flight to Madrid. The excitement of the concert still lingered in the air, yet a hint of apprehension crept into your thoughts. The prospect of manoeuvring through a bustling airport with a sleeping baby nestled in your embrace weighed on your mind. Your nails became the focus of your nervous energy, as you absentmindedly picked at them, a telltale sign of your discomfort in crowded spaces.

Aaron, the driver, broke the silence, his voice cutting through the air with concern. "There's quite a crowd near the parking area," he informed you and Harry. "It might be a bit tricky to navigate through when we arrive."

The words sent a ripple of anxiety through your body, tightening your grip on Finley. You couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability in the face of such a boisterous crowd. The conflicting emotions swirled within you, knowing that your partner, Harry, thrived amidst the adoring masses that followed his every move.

As if sensing your unease, Harry's gaze shifted from the passing scenery to your nervous gestures. His touch was a lifeline, lifting your spirits and grounding you in his unwavering support. He reached out and gently grasped your hand, lifting it to his lips.

With a voice filled with reassurance and tenderness, he murmured, "M’love, don't worry. Everything's going t’be fine."

His words echoed in your ears, resonating deep within your heart. Harry's touch, warm and comforting, conveyed a sense of security, reminding you that you were never alone in facing your fears. Even though he was accustomed to crowds, he understood your anxieties and was always there to offer solace.

A soft smile danced upon your lips as Harry pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, his lips grazing your skin with tender affection. In that moment, the outside world faded away, leaving only the connection between the two of you—an unbreakable bond forged in love, trust, and understanding.

And as the car continued its journey towards the airport, you clung to the strength and reassurance Harry provided. The touch of his lips upon your knuckles served as a soothing balm, instilling you with a renewed sense of courage and confidence.

The car slowed down as it approached the bustling parking area, the clamour of the crowd growing louder. But in that moment, with Harry's kiss lingering on your skin, you felt a surge of determination. The chaos outside the car could not overpower the love and support that encompassed your little family.

Gently shifting Finley off your breast, you carefully disengaged him, causing him to let out a soft whinge in protest. Worried that he might fully wake up, you quickly began to sway and soothe him, hoping to lull him back into a peaceful slumber. As your soothing motions took effect, his eyelids fluttered, and he settled once again into a deep sleep.

Glancing up from Finley's serene face, you caught Harry's attention. His eyes met yours, and you could see the concern etched in his features. Taking in the scene outside through the tinted windows of the Mercedes, he turned back to you, his voice filled with determination and care.

"I'll get out first, sign a few things, and then I'll come back t’help you and Fin," Harry explained, his unwavering support shining through his words.

As he prepared to step out of the car, a surge of fans already surrounded the vehicle. They clamoured for a glimpse of their beloved idol, desperate to show their adoration. Harry's body shifted, one leg still anchored inside the car while the other extended towards the crowd, his calm demeanour serving as a shield of tranquillity amidst the chaos.

With a graceful balance of firmness and kindness, Harry skillfully kept the fans at a distance, ensuring their safety while maintaining his own. He exuded a rare sense of composure, navigating the sea of adoring faces with a genuine smile and a genuine touch, making each person feel seen and valued.

As Harry prepared to fulfill his promise of signing an album for a dedicated fan, the crowd's energy buzzed with anticipation. He stepped out of the car with a gracious smile, navigating through the throngs of adoring fans who eagerly stretched out their arms, hoping to catch a glimpse of their idol.

Amidst the excited voices and outstretched hands, one fan appeared particularly adamant about getting close to Harry. They pushed forward, disregarding personal boundaries, driven by an overwhelming desire to be near him. Sensing the fan's persistence, Harry raised a hand, creating a barrier between them.

"Chill out, mate," he spoke firmly, his tone laced with a mix of assertiveness and exhaustion.

You observed the situation unfold from the comfort of the car, your heart filled with concern. As the encounter unfolded, you could see glimpses of Harry's fatigue creeping in. The long hours of performing, travelling, and constant interaction with fans were undoubtedly taking a toll on him.

His initial patience and composure began to waver, replaced by a growing agitation. Lines of weariness etched themselves upon his face, and his eyes betrayed a longing for a moment of respite. Despite his efforts to maintain his poise, the relentless demands began to chip away at his stamina.

And as the crowd's clamour continued, you sent a silent message of understanding and support to Harry, hoping he would find solace in your presence. In that moment, you yearned to offer him the calm and tranquillity he deserved, to shield him from the world's demands and allow him to simply be himself, away from the spotlight.

The image of Harry, his hand held up in a gesture of boundary and weariness, remained etched in your mind. It symbolised the delicate balance he maintained between his role as an artist and his own need for rest.

With a resolute expression, Harry addressed the persistent fans surrounding him, his voice carrying a blend of urgency and determination.

"I need to get m’wife and m’son out of the car," he asserted, hoping to convey the importance of their privacy and the need for a moment of respite. “Could y’please step back a little please.”

Some fans responded to his plea, relenting and creating a bit of space, while others continued to plead for photos and autographs. Recognizing the challenge at hand, Harry turned to the security team, issuing a request for them to create a pathway, guiding you and Finley safely through the crowd.

After ensuring that the security team was in position, Harry returned to the car, a mix of concern and weariness etched upon his face. Sensing his presence, you looked at him, seeking his guidance and reassurance.

"Is it okay for us to get out?" you asked, your voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

Harry's gaze met yours, his eyes reflecting the immense love and care he had for his family.

“As okay as it can be," he replied, his voice holding a gentle understanding of the challenges that lay ahead.

Reaching out, he took Finley from your arms, his touch filled with tenderness and protectiveness. As Finley nestled his face in the crook of his father's neck, the exhaustion and overwhelm washed over him, causing tears to well up and spill forth. The flashing lights and the cacophony of the crowd became too much for the little one to bear.

Harry's embrace tightened, one arm wrapped securely around your waist, the other ensuring that Finley was cradled with care. His fatherly instinct kicked in, providing a sense of security amidst the chaos.

As the crowd pressed closer, their excitement reaching a fever pitch, one fan extended a hand towards Finley's tiny arm in hopes of capturing Harry's attention. But the innocent gesture had an unintended effect. Finley recoiled, pulling his arm back with a sudden jerk, his wide eyes filled with fear and uncertainty.

Witnessing your son's distress, a surge of protectiveness welled up within you. Your heart ached for Finley, his innocence disrupted by the intrusion of a stranger's touch. At that moment, the proximity to the airport entrance offered a brief respite, as the number of fans thinned out. However, the incident had stirred something within Harry, a mix of concern and frustration that flickered in his eyes.

Harry, usually known for his composed demeanour, could no longer suppress his emotions. He addressed the fans, his voice tinged with a touch of agitation.

“Please, don't touch m’son," he implored, his words a plea laced with a protective urgency.

Rubbing his hand up and down Finley's back, Harry sought to soothe his distressed son. His touch carried a mixture of tenderness and firmness, a comforting gesture aimed at calming Finley's frayed nerves.

In that fleeting moment, the world seemed to pause, the weight of the situation resting heavily upon Harry's shoulders. The love he had for his son radiated through his touch, as he tried to ease Finley's unease and offer a sense of security amidst the unexpected turmoil.

As you finally made your way into the airport, the bustling atmosphere shifted to a slightly calmer pace.

“I’ve just got to go to the loo, quickly.” Your fiancé told you and the rest of the security who nodded their heads as he quickly handed Finley into your waiting arms. Fatigue and weariness were evident on his face, etched by the demands of the day.

In a tender exchange, Harry spoke softly to Finley, their bond evident in every word.

"I'll be back soon, little one." he murmured, his voice filled with affection and a touch of exhaustion. Finley looked up at his father, their connection palpable even at such a young age.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy for Harry as you observed the tiredness etched on his face. He had given his all on stage, then faced the excitement and challenges of the crowd. Yet, even in his weariness, he remained attentive and loving, making sure to reassure Finley before attending to his own needs.

Leaning in, you pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's cheek, a gesture of support and understanding.

“We’ll be waiting here for you," you whispered, letting him know that you were there, ready to provide the stability and comfort he deserved.

Harry swiftly made his way to the restroom, seeking a momentary escape from the clamour and demands that surrounded him. He entered a closed cubicle, the solitude offering a brief respite from the outside world. The heavy door closed behind him, enclosing him in a quiet space.

Seated on the closed toilet seat, Harry took a deep breath, his thoughts swirling in his mind. The facade of composure he wore for the public began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability that few had the chance to witness. He reached into his pocket, retrieving his phone, and with a trembling hand, he unlocked it.

The screen illuminated with a picture that held his heart captive—a snapshot of you and Finley when he was just born. The memory flooded his senses, the pure joy and love captured in that moment forever etched into his soul. The time displayed on the phone read 12:06 am, a reminder of the countless sleepless nights he had spent caring for his family.

Overwhelmed by a surge of conflicting emotions, Harry's composure shattered, and he silently sobbed. His tears fell in solitude, unheard by the world beyond the closed cubicle. He held his phone against his chest, clutching it over his heart, seeking solace in the tangible reminder of the love that anchored him.

The weight of his responsibilities and the unrelenting demands of fame bore down upon him. Despite his unwavering love for his fans, a sense of suffocation enveloped him at times. Guilt gnawed at his heart as he grappled with the fear that his son, the embodiment of his deepest love, had been placed in harm's way due to the adoration of his supporters.

Feeling the weight of his emotions and the need for comfort, Harry pulled his phone away from his chest and dialled a familiar number. The phone rang, each passing second heightening his anticipation.

Finally, the call connected, and he heard his mother's voice on the other end.

"Mum... I'm sorry. I know it's late, but I just needed to talk to you," Harry spoke softly, his voice laced with a mix of vulnerability and relief. Despite the unwavering support he found in his partner and in you, he longed for the familiar embrace of his mother's understanding.

His mother was one of his best friends, and he knew it was late over in England but he just needed to hear her voice. He knew you would always listen to his thoughts and feelings but there was something about hearing his mothers voice that made him feel better.

Don’t get Harry wrong, this was undoubtedly one of the best tours he had ever done in his life, but he desperately needed a break.

He was craving the feeling of his own bed, with Finley laying against his chest and you laid asleep in his arms.

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 9 months

Text

The Bath Tub.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - this photo is making me go feral and please be aware that this is my first time writing something like this so please be gentle with me :)

word count - 2k

in which, your looking for your husband backstage at his concert, and get directed by a crew member that he’s in his dressing room. things get heated the second you walk into the room, and there’s nothing like a quick quickie in the bathtub.

As you stand backstage at Wembley, the excitement and anticipation in the air are palpable. Your heart flutters with both nerves and pride, knowing that your fiancé, is about to grace the stage and captivate thousands of adoring fans. You can't help but feel a sense of overwhelming love for him, the man who stole your heart and filled your life with joy.

As you wander through the backstage area, you spot Harry's manager, Jeff, bustling about, coordinating last-minute details. With a warm smile, you approach him and ask, "Hey, Jeff, have you seen Harry? I wanted to wish him luck before the show."

Jeff looks up from his clipboard and smiles back, "Oh, hey! Haz in his dressing room. He's just getting ready."

Thanking him, you make your way to Harry's dressing room, the excitement building with each step. As you reach the door, you hesitate for a moment, not wanting to intrude on his pre-show routine. But the thought of seeing him before his big moment is too tempting to resist.

You knock lightly on the door and then slowly push it open. Inside, you hear the faint sound of murmuring. Your heart skips a beat, wondering if you should come back later. But then, you realise it's Harry's voice, and he must be talking to himself or rehearsing.

As you step further inside, you notice that the bathroom door is closed, and the sound of running water fills the room. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you approach the bathroom door quietly, not wanting to disturb him.

The murmuring gets louder as you approach, and you can't help but feel a mix of concern and intrigue. You gently push open the bathroom door, revealing a sight that takes your breath away. There, in the bathtub, sits Harry, his head hung low as he runs his fingers through his wet hair, preparing for his performance.

You stand in the doorway, feeling a mix of excitement and affection as you watch him, sitting in the bathtub. The soft, warm glow of the bathroom room lights highlights the contours of his face and the tattoos that adorn his skin. Your heart flutters at the sight, and an overwhelming sense of love washes over you.

Water trickles down his bare skin, creating rivulets that trace the lines of his muscles. The tattoos, usually captivating, now seem even more prominent against his wet, glistening skin. Each design tells a story, a piece of him permanently etched into his body, and you find yourself admiring each one with renewed fascination.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, fluttering with excitement and anticipation. You can't help but be drawn to him, his presence magnetic and captivating. As he moves, washing the water over himself, you catch glimpses of his muscles flexing, and your breath catches in your throat. The way he cares for himself with such ease and grace only deepens your admiration for him.

The sound of water fills the air, mixing with the soft murmurs of his voice as he unconsciously talks to himself, preparing for the show ahead. It's a private moment, one that makes you feel privileged to witness. You realise just how lucky you are to have him in your life, to be able to share these intimate moments with him.

His eyes, the colour of emerald green, flicker up, catching you observing him. There's a hint of surprise, but it's quickly replaced by a warm and affectionate smile that tugs at your heartstrings. You offer a shy smile in return, feeling like a fluttering butterfly yourself, captured by his gaze.

As your eyes meet his, you quickly realise that Harry has caught you staring at him. A playful glint dances in his emerald green eyes, and a mischievous smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

He knows he has your attention, and he's clearly enjoying the moment.

"What’re ymlooking at, m’love?" he teases, his voice low and smoky, sending shivers down your spine. You feel a light blush creeping up your cheeks, but you can't look away.

You remain speechless, the words caught in your throat. Instead, you see him raise his hand, gesturing for you to come closer. A mix of nerves and excitement courses through you, but you can't resist his playful invitation.

Slowly, you step forward until you're standing beside the bathtub.

His eyes never leave yours, and he leans forward, his face now mere inches from yours. You can feel the warmth radiating off his skin, and you're tempted to close the gap between your lips, but he beats you to it. He plants a soft, lingering kiss on your lips, making your heart skip a beat.

With a flirty smirk, he pulls back slightly and asks, "Are y’just going t’stand there, or are y’going t’join me?"

You let out a nervous chuckle, feeling the butterflies in your stomach intensify. "H, I don't have any spare clothes to change into."

He raises an eyebrow, a playful glimmer still in his eyes.

"Who said y’need clothes?" he teases, running his fingers gently along your arm.

Your heart races, and you can't help but give in to the temptation. You slip off your shoes and start to unbutton your shirt, feeling a mixture of excitement and vulnerability. Harry's eyes never leave you, and he bites his lower lip, clearly enjoying the show.

You climb into the bath, sitting in front of him, facing each other. The water envelops you both, creating a soothing and intimate atmosphere. Harry can't help but smile as he watches you playfully accept his invitation.

With a sparkle in his eyes, he leans forward and pulls you gently onto his lap, your bodies close but still leaving room for comfort. Your heart races with anticipation as you feel his warm embrace, and you can't resist leaning in closer to him.

The moment your lips meet, a spark ignites between you. The make-out session becomes a dance of passion and affection, each kiss more fervent than the last. Your hands find their way to his hair, running through his damp curls, while his hands gently caress your back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Wanna have some pre-show fun?”he pulls away from the kiss, slightly breathless, your lips plump due to smacking against his ones, and you nod your head, as an answer to his question.

You felt his lips fall to your neck, peppering kisses against the skin there and making sure to leave a mark there. “Harry…we’re in…we’re in a bathtub.”

“And?”

“And?”you turned to look over your shoulder to the bathroom door, making sure that it was shut. “Someone could walk in.”

“I can be quiet,” he nips at your jaw, making you inhale a small breath at the action. “Can you be quiet? Can you be quiet for me, baby?”

His words made all the heat rush to your core, that was close to his cock that was hard, brushing against the inside of your thigh from where you were sitting on his lap.

You nodded your head at his words and that was when he lowered his hand down into the water and tickled the inside of your thigh, his knuckles dragging increasingly close to your ache.

“Fuck m’life,” His gaze lowers slightly, racking his eyes over your naked torso, pupils blown. “Your heavenly, like a fucking angel.”

The next words that leave his lips have you whimpering out.

“Y’so wet f’me.” He mused, and your surprised you didn’t lose it right then and there, his fingers work and run along your clit in small circles, eyes closing slightly at the sensation radiating through your body.

“Please don’t tease me,” you whisper, chest rising and falling, even though he had barely touched you. “I don’t want your fingers, there’s no time.”

“Yeah?”His fingers continue to tease between your legs as his head tilts to the side. “Where do you want me? Tell me where and I’ll give it to you, give you anything y’ask for m’angel.”

“Inside me,” you open your eyes and lean forward, he can feel your breath on the top of his nose, “Please H…inside me.”

He retracted his hand, and lowered it even further so it was touching his aching cock. He shifted slightly so the tip of it could be seen atop of the water, it was pink, completely rock hard and if you squinted you could see it ouzing with pre-cum.

He fisted his length a few times, warming himself up a bit more, before he lifted up your hips and lined himself up with your entrance, running it up and down your folds a few times in a teasing manner before pushing inside of you with a gaped mouth.

“Shit,” Harry was trying to be quiet but he had no control when it came to you. “You feel so good, baby.”

“Always feel so good for me,” he rushed out, hips thrusting in and out of you, eager to get you both to reach your climax at the same time. “Can never get enough of you.”

Your breath is laboured as you lean your head forward and pepper kisses against the skin of his neck, where his tattoo dedicated to you was located.

“Y’gonna finish soon?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded your head, feeling your legs starting to shake at the feeling of your impending orgasm. “Uh-huh.”

Your whimpers and moans are anything but quiet as you feel your fiancés thrusts becoming slightly sloppy. The water is splashing around the two of you, head thrown back.

He leaned his hand down and pressed it against your clit, making your eyes go wide.

“I’m close…”you told him, still bouncing up and down on his length. “I’m so close…so close.”

He pressed an open mouthed kiss to your lips that were becoming slightly chapped due to the humidity of the room. “C’mon lovie, come for me, give me what I want.”

And you didn’t need to be told twice.

You came quickly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the beginning of your fiancés orgasmy started to brew. It wasn’t long after you that he came inside of you, seeing as you were on birth control.

Small whimpers emitted from his lips at the rush he felt, his forehead falling against your shoulder.

“I love you.”

“M’love you too.”

A soft knock echoes through the bathroom door, pulling you both back to reality after your intimate moment. It's Jeff, Harry's manager, reminding you that time is ticking, and the concert is just moments away.

"Hey, whatever the two of you are doing in there, hurry it up! You've got to be on stage in fifteen, you animals," Jeff's voice teases from the other side of the door.

You and Harry let out small laughs, your foreheads falling gently against each other as you catch your breath. The playfulness in Jeff's voice reminds you of the world waiting outside this private space—a world filled with thousands of eager fans, eagerly anticipating Harry's performance.

"Alright, alright, we're coming out," Harry calls out with a chuckle, not the least bit embarrassed by the interruption. He glances at you, a tender smile gracing his lips, and you can't help but feel a rush of affection for the man beside you.

As you untangle yourselves and get out of the bath, you quickly dry off and get dressed, Harry wearing a black jump suit, with pink love hearts designed on it, not shirt on underneath, leaving his tattoos on show, still feeling the warmth of the intimate moment shared. The excitement of the upcoming performance now mingles with the sense of closeness you experienced in the bathroom, creating a unique mix of emotions.

Harry opens the door to find Jeff waiting, a playful grin on his face.

"Took you two long enough," he teases.

You playfully roll your eyes and nudge Harry's shoulder. "Blame him. He started it with his flirty looks."

Harry raises an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Oh, so it's m’fault now, is it?" he retorts with a grin.

You can't help but giggle, feeling grateful for the light-heartedness that surrounds you both, even in the midst of the nerves and anticipation. With the clock ticking, you grab Harry's hand, intertwining your fingers, and make your way out of the dressing room.

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 2 months

Note

You do realise your gonna have to do an uncle Harry fic now x

Uncle Harry.

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my blurb masterlist is here !!

authors note - gemmas a mum, i feel so emotional for a some reason 🥹🥹

word count - 1.1k

in which, after the birth of her baby, you and harry decided to stop by the hospital to see her, where tears fall and memories are created.

“Can you please tell us what room Gemma Styles is in, please?”

In the early hours of the morning Harry’s phone rang, it was his sisters boyfriend announcing that Gemma had gone into labour and that the baby would be here any hours now.

The two of you were unable to sleep for the rest of the evening, harry was bouncing his foot on the floor in anticipation as he patiently waited for his phone to ring once more.

And when it did, you had never seen him cry so much, not even the day he proposed to you.

Harry gives you a reassuring smile before turning to the nurse behind the counter, waiting for her answer.

The nurse looks up from her computer screen and studies the two of you for a moment before asking, "And what's your relationship to her?"

Harry's grip on your hand tightens as he responds, "She's m’sister, and this is m’fiancée."

The nurse sighs softly and taps away at the keyboard in front of her before answering, "She's on the maternity ward, room 9. When you get to the ward, you'll need to press the intercoms and wait to be let in."

“Thank you.” You nod, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as you follow Harry down the hallway towards the maternity ward. The anticipation of meeting your future niece or nephew fills you with a sense of joy unlike any other.

As you and Harry make your way down the hallway towards the maternity ward, you feel his hand slightly sweaty in yours, a telltale sign of his nervousness. You give his hand a gentle squeeze, offering him a reassuring smile as you approach the entrance.

Standing in front of the door to the ward, Harry takes a deep breath, his eyes flickering with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

"I hope she's doing alright," he murmurs, his voice tinged with worry.

You nod in understanding, your own heart racing with anticipation.

"She'll be absolutely fine," you assure him, giving his hand another squeeze before reaching out to press the intercom button. “She’s a Styles after all.”

A moment later, a voice crackles through the speaker, "Can I help you?"

You glance at Harry, sharing a soft smile before leaning towards the intercom.

"Yes, we're here to see Gemma Styles," you say, your voice calm and steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

The nurse on the intercom asks a few more questions and shortly after, the door to the ward clicks open. You and Harry exchange a glance before stepping inside, the sterile smell of the hospital filling your senses as you make your way down the corridor towards room 9.

As you reach the door, Harry hesitates for a moment, his hand tightening around yours.

"M’nervous," he admits quietly, his eyes darting towards the closed door.

You reach up, cupping his cheeks in your hands and meeting his gaze with reassurance.

"It's okay to be nervous, Harry," you say softly, your voice filled with warmth and understanding. "After all, your sister just had a baby."

Harry nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he leans into your touch.

"Thank you," he murmurs, his eyes reflecting his gratitude as he squeezes your hand.

With a deep breath, you knock on the door, hearing a soft murmur of an ‘come in’ before you softly push open the door to room 9, stepping inside with Harry by your side.

The sight that greets you warms your heart - Gemma resting in the hospital bed, a tiny bundle nestled in her arms, her face glowing with love and exhaustion.

You stand back, giving Harry space as he approaches Gemma's bedside. Anne smiles warmly at him, her eyes filled with pride as she watches her son greet his sister and the newest member of their family.

Michal stands by Gemma's side, a look of pure adoration on his face as he gazes at the tiny bundle in her arms.

"Hey Gem, how are you feeling?" Harry asks softly, his voice filled with concern as he takes in her tired but radiant appearance.

Gemma looks up at him, her eyes shining with emotion.

"I've never felt anything like it, H," she whispers, her voice filled with wonder. "She's perfect."

Harry's gaze shifts to the baby girl nestled on Gemma's chest, a soft smile spreading across his face.

"She's absolutely adorable," he says, his voice filled with awe. "I'm so proud of you, Gem."

Gemma looks up at Harry with a gentle smile, her eyes filled with affection.

"Would you like to hold her, H?" she asks, her voice soft but eager.

Harry's face lights up with excitement, nodding his head enthusiastically.

"Yes, absolutely," he replies, his voice filled with anticipation.

Gemma carefully passes the newborn to Michael, who holds her securely as he steps aside to give Harry room.

Harry takes a seat in a nearby chair, his hands trembling slightly with nerves and excitement.

As Michael slowly and carefully passes the newborn into Harry's awaiting arms,

Harry's heart swells with love and awe. He cradles her gently, his eyes fixed on her tiny face as he marvels at her delicate features.

"She's so tiny," Harry murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he gazes down at the precious bundle in his arms. "And so perfect."

Gemma watches with tears of joy in her eyes as Harry holds her daughter for the first time, her heart overflowing with love for her brother and her newborn baby. She reaches out, squeezing Harry's hand in silent gratitude for this special moment they are sharing together.

As Harry holds his newborn niece in his arms, silent tears stream down his cheeks, his emotions overwhelming him in the most beautiful way. He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself before speaking.

"You are so precious," Harry whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "And I promise you, I will always love and protect you. You'll never have to doubt that."

Gemma and Anne exchange tearful smiles as they listen to Harry's heartfelt words, knowing that he means every single one of them.

"You're going to have the best uncle ever," Harry continues, his voice filled with determination. "I'll always be here for you, through every laugh and every tear. You can count on me."

He looks up at you, noticing that you also have tears in your eyes upon witnessing the sight in front of you, Harry’s a natural with children.

You smile at him softly, watching as love shines his eyes.

The baby stirs in Harry's arms, as if sensing the love and sincerity in his words. Harry smiles through his tears, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I love you so much, little one," he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion. "Welcome to the world."

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 21 days

Text

Sky High.

(pilot!harry x airhostess!yn)

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in which, your an airhostess for british airways, and harry’s been a pilot for british airways for the last four years, and your both working on the same a380 to the big apple.

word count - 2.8k

"So, which lucky city are you off to today?"

Cabin crew had always been a passion of yours since you were a child.

When you were young, you used to adore gazing at the impeccably dressed flight attendants as they moved gracefully through the aisles of the plane. That longing to be among them, to embody the essence of professionalism and hospitality, never wavered, even as you grew older.

So when you turned eighteen, and were fresh out of college, you signed up for flight attendant school and not once have you looked back.

The course took ten weeks and they were the best of your life, because at the end of it, you gained your wings and was ready to fly.

That was when you met Samia, your bestest friend, the two of you were in the same cabin crew training classes and had practically been inseparable ever since, it was a friendship that was made to last.

You and Samia make your way through the bustling terminal of Manchester Airport, where families were executed to finally have a nice holiday that they had waited all year for and people who were solo-travellers ready to embark on a boring old work trip.

With a grin, you respond, "New York, simply feels like forever since I’ve been there.”

Samia feigns a dramatic sigh, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ugh, why do you get all the fun flights? I'm just headed to Dublin."

You chuckle at her mock disappointment. "Hey, Dublin's pretty great too!”

She rolls her eyes playfully. "I guess you're right. But next time, I'm definitely snagging that New York flight!"

You nudge her teasingly. "Deal!

As you and Samia continue your leisurely stroll through the bustling terminal of Manchester Airport, she suddenly stops in her tracks, a perplexed expression crossing her face.

"Wait, did you say you're heading to New York?" she asks, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

You nod in confirmation, a smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, I've got a three-day layover there before heading back. Why? What's up?"

Samia's eyes light up mischievously as she leans in closer. "You know who the pilot is, right?"

You shake your head, curious about her sudden intrigue. "No, who is it?"

With a smug look on her face, Samia leans back, relishing the moment before dropping the bombshell.

"Captain Styles," she says, her voice laced with amusement.

Just like that, your eyes widen.

The dim lights of the party cast a warm glow over the room as chatter and laughter filled the air. You stood at the bar, holding an almost empty drink, observing the festivities around you. It was a celebration for the graduating pilots and cabin crew, and the excitement was palpable.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the noise, and you turned to see a handsome young man approaching you. His brunette hair had a slight curl to it, and he wore an open t-shirt with only the bottom buttons done up, showcasing his tattoos along his chest and right arm. He flashed you a charming smile that set your heart racing.

"Hey," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "M’Harry. Can I get you another drink?"

His flirty demeanor caught you off guard, but you couldn't help but be intrigued by his confidence and his striking appearance.

With a smile, you accepted his offer. "Sure, that would be great. Thanks."

As he ordered the drinks, Harry leaned in closer, his playful banter making your heart flutter. "So, what brings you to this party? Celebrating y’graduation as well?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement at his attention. "Yeah, I just finished my cabin crew training. It's been quite the journey."

Harry nodded, his gaze lingering on you. "Well, congratulations. Y’must be excited to start flying high."

You chuckled at his pun, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his flirtatious remarks. "Thanks. And what about you? Are you one of the graduating pilots?"

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Guilty as charged. But tonight, M’more interested in getting to know you."

As the night wore on, the energy of the party only seemed to intensify, fueled by the pulsating rhythm of the music and the electric chemistry between you and Harry.

With each exchange, the attraction between you grew stronger, igniting a fiery passion that neither of you could ignore.

Before you knew it, the party had come to an end, and Harry suggested continuing the festivities at his place. Eager for more time together, you eagerly agreed, your heart racing with anticipation as you made your way to his doorstep.

As Harry fumbled with his keys, his lips found yours in a heated kiss, igniting a firestorm of desire that burned hotter with each passing second. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating embrace, the hunger for each other driving you forward.

Finally, the door swung open, and Harry pulled you inside, the heat between you reaching a fever pitch. With a sense of urgency, you stumbled into his apartment, the desire to be close to him consuming every fiber of your being.

And as the door closed behind you, the outside world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you entwined in a passionate embrace, lost in a whirlwind of desire and longing.

As you approach your gate, you come to a halt, a wave of anticipation washing over you. Turning to Samia, you give her a final hug, the warmth of her embrace a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

"I'll see you soon," you say, your voice tinged with both longing and determination.

Samia returns the hug with equal fervor, her support unwavering.

"Text me when you land, just so i know that you got there safely." she tells you you, her words a comforting reminder of your shared journey and the strength you draw from each other.

"Take care up there, and don't forget to enjoy New York," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of excitement. “You deserve it.”

During the embrace, your gaze drifts past Samia, and that's when you spot him. Captain Styles, striding confidently towards the gate, his navy blue pilot uniform impeccable, a pair of sunglasses shielding his eyes from the fluorescent airport lights.

The women around him stare in awe, admiration evident in their eyes as they admire his striking looks and commanding presence.

As Captain Styles catches your eye amidst the throng of admirers, a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

You swallow harshly, feeling a sudden rush of nerves at his knowing gaze, his presence commanding attention even in the midst of the bustling airport terminal.

As you bid farewell to Samia and take a step towards the bridge leading to the plane, your heart pounds with a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation.

Captain Styles stands nearby, engrossed in conversation with the gate control personnel, his commanding presence unmistakable even from a distance.

As you approach the bridge, you catch Captain Styles' eye, and he immediately breaks off his conversation, his gaze fixed on you as he strides towards you with purpose.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't m’favorite cabin crew member," he says with a playful grin, his tone laced with flirtation.

You can't help but return his smile, the familiar spark between you reigniting with each step closer.

Ever since that night you spent together four years ago, the two of you have sort of started an arrangement, when one of you needs the other your there and vice versa.

But your feelings grew above just meaningless hookups.

His as far as you were concerned didn’t.

"Captain Styles, always a pleasure," you reply, your voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

He falls into step beside you, his presence magnetic as he matches your stride.

"So, headed to the Big Apple, are we?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You nod, a surge of excitement coursing through you at the prospect of flying to New York with Captain Styles as your pilot.

"Yep, three days of layover in the city that never sleeps," you say, unable to contain your enthusiasm.

Captain Styles chuckles, his charm on full display as he leans in closer, his voice low and intimate.

"Well, if you need a tour guide while you're there, y’know where t’find me," he says with a wink, his flirtatious demeanor sending a thrill down your spine.

You play along, matching his flirtatious energy with a playful smirk of your own.

"I might just take you up on that offer," you tease, the familiarity between you sparking with every word exchanged.

As you reach the entrance to the bridge, Captain Styles stops, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of intensity and longing.

"Until we meet again, m’cloud member," he says, his voice husky with promise.

You meet his gaze, the unspoken understanding between you hanging heavy in the air.

"Until next time," you reply, your heart racing with anticipation as you step onto the bridge and make your way towards the plane.

Standing at the entrance of the plane, you greet passengers with a warm smile as they board, checking their tickets with practiced efficiency.

Beside you stands Suzie, a petite blonde cabin crew member from France, her cheerful demeanor adding to the welcoming atmosphere of the aircraft.

"Bonjour! Welcome aboard," Suzie chirps in her melodious French accent, her eyes sparkling with genuine hospitality as she assists passengers with their carry-on luggage.

You nod in agreement, echoing her sentiments with a friendly greeting of your own.

"Welcome aboard, ladies and gentlemen. If you could please have your tickets ready, we'll get you settled in no time," you say, your voice projecting confidence and professionalism.

As passengers file past, you and Suzie work in tandem, ensuring a smooth and efficient boarding process. You exchange glances and quick smiles as you assist travelers with finding their seats and stowing their belongings in the overhead compartments.

"Next please," you say, gesturing for the next passenger to approach, your attention fully focused on providing top-notch service to everyone boarding the aircraft.

Suzie chimes in, her cheerful demeanor infectious as she assists an elderly couple with finding their seats.

"Right this way, monsieur et madame. Allow me to help you with your bags," she says, her gentle touch earning her grateful smiles from the passengers.

As the last few passengers board the plane, you and Suzie share a brief moment of camaraderie, a silent acknowledgment of a job well done.

As the final passengers settle into their seats and fasten their seatbelts, you and the rest of the cabin crew begin to make your way down the aisle, ensuring that everyone is safely secured for takeoff. With practiced ease, you exchange reassuring smiles and nods with passengers as you pass, checking seatbelts and offering assistance where needed.

Once you confirm that all passengers are securely strapped in, you make your way to the front of the cabin, ready to perform the mandatory safety demonstration. Standing in the aisle, you and the other cabin crew members demonstrate the proper use of seatbelts, oxygen masks, and life vests, your movements fluid and precise as you emphasize the importance of safety during the flight.

As the plane taxis towards the runway, you continue the safety demonstration, pointing out the locations of emergency exits and demonstrating the brace position in case of an emergency landing. Your voice is calm and reassuring, your demeanor projecting confidence and competence to the passengers seated before you.

Three hours into the flight, you find yourself in the crew mess area, diligently preparing warm nuts for the passengers as part of the in-flight service. The gentle hum of the aircraft fills the air, a comforting backdrop to the routine tasks at hand.

Suddenly, the sound of the call button interrupts the steady rhythm, prompting you to glance up from your task.

With a quick exchange of glances with your fellow cabin crew members, you make your way towards the source of the signal, ready to assist the passenger in need.

Approaching the row where the call button was activated, you find a mother and her little girl, the child looking pale and visibly uncomfortable.

Concern washes over you as you inquire, "Is everything okay? How can I assist you?"

The mother looks relieved at your arrival, her voice tinged with urgency. "My daughter isn't feeling well. Do you have a sick bag?"

You nod empathetically, understanding the urgency of the situation.

"Of course, let me grab one for you right away," you assure her, before swiftly making your way back to the crew mess to retrieve a sick bag.

Returning to the passenger's row with the sick bag in hand, you offer it to the mother with a sympathetic smile.

"Here you go. I hope this helps. Is there anything else I can do to assist you and your daughter?"

The mother gratefully accepts the sick bag, her expression conveying a mix of relief and gratitude.

"Thank you so much. This should do the trick. We'll let you know if we need anything else," she says, her voice soft with appreciation.

You nod, reassuring her that you're available should they require any further assistance.

Just under four hours into the flight, you find yourself tasked with delivering the pre-ordered meals to the cockpit crew. Carrying a tray with their dinner selections, you make your way to the front of the aircraft, where the cockpit door awaits.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you knock lightly on the door before pushing it open, revealing the familiar sight of Captain Harry and First Officer Max at the controls.

"Dinner delivery," you announce with a smile, stepping into the cockpit.

Harry looks up from the control panel, his eyes lighting up as he sees you. "Ah, if it isn’t the queen of the clouds herself," he says, his tone playful yet subtly flirtatious.

Suppressing a smile, you approach him with the tray, presenting him with his sushi and a glass of apple juice.

"Here you go, Captain Styles. Enjoy your meal," you say, your voice steady despite the flutter of excitement in your chest.

You bend down in front of the captain, knowing that it will simply drive him crazy, and because we’ll….your a little tease, your skirt isn’t that short, because it’s not aloud to be but it certainly does the trick, because you softly hear him take a small intake of breath which has you trying to surpress your smile.

You then stand back to a normal height and give the first officer his choice of food for the night.

Max looks up from his own console, offering you a polite nod of acknowledgment.

"Thank you," he says, his tone professional as he accepts his lasagna and a glass of milk.

You return his nod with a polite smile, acknowledging his presence before turning your attention back to Harry.

"Is there anything else I can assist you with, Captain?" you inquire, trying to keep the conversation light and professional despite the underlying tension between you.

Harry's gaze lingers on you for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I don’t think there is no." he replies, his tone teasing yet filled with underlying sincerity.

As you turn to leave the cockpit, you catch Harry's gaze and offer a sheepish smile.

"I should probably go wash my hands," you say, feeling a sudden need to break the tension in the air.

Harry chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

"Of course, can't have our cabin crew getting their hands dirty," he teases, his tone light yet tinged with a hint of flirtation.

You laugh along with him, grateful for the playful banter that eases the atmosphere.

"Exactly," you reply, eager to retreat from the intimate confines of the cockpit before things become too heated.

You make your way towards the bathroom as you had initially intended. Pushing open the door, you step inside, grateful for the momentary solitude the confined space offers.

Turning on the tap, you let the water flow over your hands, the cool sensation refreshing as you lather them with soap. With practiced efficiency, you scrub your hands clean, ensuring every trace of dirt and germs is washed away.

Once satisfied with the cleanliness of your hands, you rinse off the soap and reach for a paper towel to dry them.

As you pat your hands dry, you take a moment to glance at your reflection in the mirror, adjusting your uniform and smoothing down any stray hairs that may have escaped your notice.

As you are preparing to leave the bathroom, the sound of the door opening behind you catches your attention, causing a slight flutter of nerves to rise in your stomach.

Without turning around, you sense someone entering the small space, their presence filling the air with an unspoken tension.

Gulping nervously, you finally muster the courage to turn and make eye contact with the newcomer.

The sight of the familiar uniform and the commanding aura that surrounds them leaves you momentarily speechless, your heart pounding in your chest.

You swallow heavily.

“Hello, Captain.”

312 notes · View notes

musicforastylesrestaurant · 3 months

Note

Hi! I don't know if you already have an idea for the birthday post, if you do feel free to ignore this...my favourite trope is dad!harry too...what if H has to go for an emergency meeting somewhere else out the country even before his birthday and he has to spend his birthday there too and he is bummed about it...the fmc can fly out with their daughter/son and when he is back from his meeting his room is all decorated and stuff and she tells him she asked jeff to cancel everything...and they do a bunch of fun stuff but at night, after dinner she and the baby surprise him with another baby or something and he is like best birthday ever, 30 is already amazing

Happy 30th Birthday, Baby.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - thank you so much to @missbearforfun for sending in this request, ive had had a fun time writing this, ive changed a few things up, so i hope that ive done it justice.

i can’t believe that my boy is 30….like i swear he was just auditioning for the x-factor yesterday. 🥹

word count - 4.4k

in which, harry gets called to do a meeting in italy, two days before his birthday, which means that he’ll be spending his 30th out there with just his manager jeff, what he doesn’t realise is that you, his darling wife, fly out to surprise him and hopefully give him the best birthday he’s ever had.

You’ve been in Harry’s life for just over ten years.

You’ve spent five of those years as boyfriend and girlfriend, two of those years as his fiancé, and now, this year will be leading up to the third year being each other's husband and wife.

The first birthday of his that you spent with him, was his 20th all the way back in 2014. He had organised an intimate get together at a restaurant full of all of his closest family and friends, and it was the first time that you would be turning up together, as an official couple seeing as the only people who knew about the two of you were his band mates and his mother,sister, father and step father.

It was also the night that he confessed to you that he loved you, and that you were the one person that he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with.

From that moment on, every birthday became a cherished chapter in your shared history.

Waking up in each other's arms has become a comforting tradition, marking the beginning of a day dedicated solely to celebrating Harry's existence. The warmth of those morning embraces symbolises the depth of your connection, a connection that has withstood the tests of time.

As the years unfolded, you've witnessed the evolution of Harry, both in age and character, yet the love between you two has remained unwavering.

From his 21st to his 30th birthday, you've made it a point to spend the day in a way that brings him joy. Whether it's exploring new places, indulging in his favourite activities, or simply relaxing together, the focus has always been on creating memories that reflect the essence of Harry.

Each birthday has become a canvas on which you paint moments of happiness and shared experiences.

You had spent every birthday with him, but for this one, it appeared to already be turning out in a way neither of you had expected.

A mere few days before Harry's anticipated birthday, an unexpected call from his manager, Jeff, sent ripples of disappointment through his plans. The urgency of an issue related to his beauty brand, Pleasing, required Harry's immediate attention in the Italy.

The brand we’re thinking of opening a pop-up shop over there, seeing as the country held so much adoration in both of your hearts, it was the place where you got married, the place where he proposed and where he now wanted his fans over there to have access to him and what he had to offer.

With flights already booked, he faced the heart-wrenching reality of having to leave just over two days before his special day. Devastation etched across his face as he contemplated the unforeseen disruption to the birthday celebration he had eagerly anticipated.

In a desperate attempt to reason with Jeff, Harry explained his deep desire to spend his birthday with you, sharing the disappointment that overshadowed the joy of the impending celebration.

However, the urgency of the matter prevailed, leaving Harry torn between personal desires and professional obligations. As his best mate and manager, Jeff empathised with Harry but emphasised the gravity of the situation, reinforcing the necessity of this unexpected journey.

Amidst the disappointment, you stepped in to comfort Harry, assuring him that celebrations could be postponed but his presence and well-being mattered most. You offered solace, reminding him that distance could not diminish the love and connection you shared.

The promise of a belated but equally meaningful celebration upon his return brought a glimmer of hope to the gloom that hung over his imminent departure.

You had promised him, that you would FaceTime him on his actual birthday and that you would both order the same takeaway that night and have a little over the phone date, just to celebrate this big milestone.

On the morning Harry was set to depart for Italy, the anticipation of his journey hung in the air. Dressed for travel, he stood before you with a small suitcase by the door.

Shoes on, cap snug, and sunglasses concealing his eyes, he exuded a mix of excitement and reluctance. Despite the January chill in London, the promise of Italy's warmth upon landing prompted him to prepare for a contrasting climate.

Your eyes held a silent plea as you stood before him, sorrow evident in your gaze.

"I wish I didn't have t’go," Harry admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

You nodded, understanding the weight of the situation, your silence echoing the unspoken emotions in the room.

Milo, your ten-month-old Rottweiler puppy, sensed the sombre atmosphere, wagging his tail as if trying to infuse joy into the moment.

Unable to contain your emotions, you wrapped your arms around Harry in a tight hug.

"I'll miss you so much," you whispered, your voice betraying the ache within. Harry's embrace tightened, and he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I'll miss y’more, m’love," he murmured, the sincerity in his words resonating with the depth of his emotions.

Crouching down to pet Milo, Harry spoke to the pup with a soft smile, "Take care of mummy for me, little buddy."

Milo responded with excited barks, seemingly understanding the impending absence.

Standing up, Harry looked into your eyes, his own reflecting a mixture of love and longing.

Your gaze locked with his, finding solace in the promise of a future reunion.

"We'll have the most amazing belated birthday celebration," you said, trying to inject positivity into the moment.

Harry smiled, his eyes reflecting gratitude.

"I can't wait f’that. Until then, stay strong f’me," he said, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

As the door closed behind him, the echo of his departure resonated through the silent space. Left with the imprint of his touch, the memory of his presence, and the anticipation of his return, you and Milo faced a home that suddenly felt emptier without him.

"I'll make sure t’send y’pictures from Italy," Harry called out from the hallway.

"And don't forget to spoil Milo a bit extra for me!" he added with a playful grin, the reassurance in his voice providing a small comfort amid the impending distance.

The day of his actual birthday, you woke up at seven am, which meant it was eight am for Harry.

It was a nice early face time call, in which you had called someone from the town near your shared beach house and got them to deliver flowers so they we’re scheduled to arrive whilst the two of you were calling, so you could see his face when he received them.

Little did he know, as the virtual celebration concluded, that you were already en route to Italy to surprise the love of your life.

His manager, Jeff, had orchestrated the clandestine journey, booking a flight that not only allowed your presence but accommodated Milo, your loyal puppy companion.

On the fairly empty flight, with just a few scattered passengers, you found solace in the quiet journey across the skies. Milo, nestled on the seat next to you, peacefully dozed off, completely unaware of the grand surprise awaiting his owner.

The hum of the plane engines provided a soothing backdrop as you envisioned the joy that would light up Harry's face when you appeared unexpectedly in celebration of his special day.

Upon landing in Italy, you and Milo were swiftly escorted off the plane by a discreet security team. The importance of maintaining the surprise for Harry became evident as the team efficiently navigated through the airport. The mission was clear: to whisk you away from the public eye, avoiding any chance of word spreading that Harry's wife had arrived.

Passing through passport control with just a carry-on bag in tow, the security team ensured a seamless transition. The anticipation heightened as you and Milo moved through the airport, surrounded by the subtle hum of secrecy. Every step taken was a careful manoeuvre to preserve the surprise and shield the unfolding celebration from prying eyes.

Exiting the airport, you were guided to a waiting jeep. The security team orchestrated a smooth transition, knowing that time was of the essence.

Jeff:

H just left for a meeting, so you’ve got at least an hour to get everything ready !!

As the jeep sped toward the villa, Jeff's text notification illuminated your phone screen. His message revealed that Harry was currently engrossed in a meeting, providing a valuable window of time to set up a birthday surprise.

The prospect of transforming the house into a beautiful haven of celebration filled you with excitement. Knowing you had at least an hour before Harry's return heightened the anticipation, and thoughts of his surprised expression fueled your determination.

The journey continued through the picturesque landscapes of Italy, the half-hour drive feeling like both an eternity and a heartbeat away from reuniting with Harry. Milo, sensing the energy, shifted restlessly in anticipation, adding an extra layer of warmth to the already charged atmosphere within the jeep.

The realization that the culmination of meticulous planning was drawing near only fueled your eagerness.

The mere thought of seeing Harry after two days of separation fueled your determination to make this surprise an unforgettable celebration of love and connection. The countdown to the reunion had begun.

"Here we are," the driver announced as the jeep came to a stop in front of the villa. You thanked him and handed over a ten-euro tip, expressing gratitude for the swift and discreet journey.

Grabbing Milo's leash and your bag, you stepped out into the Italian air, the scent of anticipation mingling with the promise of celebration.

As you approached the door, the distinct aroma of Harry's aftershave enveloped you, confirming his recent presence. A pair of his white vans neatly placed by the entrance hinted at the intimate details of his daily routine.

With a smile, you inserted the key into the lock, unlocking the door to a space filled with the essence of the man you dearly missed.

"Milo, we're home," you murmured to your furry companion, who eagerly bounded into the living room.

The atmosphere inside resonated with familiarity, and Milo, seemingly aware of the joyous occasion, leaped onto the sofa, his tail wagging in sync with the pulsating excitement in the air.

Upon stepping into the villa, you wasted no time. The suitcase that accompanied you served as a treasure trove of celebratory delights. With swift precision, you unzipped it, revealing an inflatable 3 and 0, along with vibrant banners that spelled out "Happy Birthday."

The living room became a canvas for your creativity, and the decorations unfolded in a dance of colors and joy.

Inflating the giant numbers, you strategically placed them to catch Harry's eye the moment he entered. The banners crisscrossed the room, creating a vibrant tapestry of celebration. The atmosphere transformed with each decoration, turning the space into a haven of love and festivity.

The decorating didn’t take long, maybe around half an hour, so that left you waiting, and each minute felt like hell.

You so badly just wanted him in your arms.

Seated in the midst of the festive setup, you pulled out your phone, eager to share the news of your safe arrival with your family. Fingers danced across the screen as you texted messages of reassurance and excitement, capturing the essence of this special moment.

The living room, now a symphony of color and joy, served as the backdrop to your messages, each tap echoing the anticipation of the grand birthday surprise awaiting Harry.

As you sat in the living room, engrossed in your phone, the jingling of keys outside signaled Harry's arrival. Swiftly, you rose from your seat, Milo by your side, his tail wagging in silent excitement.

Attempting to be as quiet as possible, you made your way to the entry hall, your heart pounding with anticipation. The festive atmosphere of the decorated living room served as a backdrop to the impending surprise.

Harry entered, shutting the door behind him with a sense of routine. His tote bag dropped to the floor, and in his initial distraction, he failed to notice the pair of women's shoes by the entrance.

His gaze scanned the surroundings briefly before turning away, only to snap back with wide eyes when he caught sight of you standing there.

His mouth parted in shock, a mixture of disbelief and joy washing over his face.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as Harry processed the unexpected presence before him. The shock gave way to a radiant smile, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness. Milo's tail wagged furiously, mirroring the palpable joy in the room.

Harry's initial shock dissolved into pure joy as he stared at you standing in the entry hall. Without a moment's hesitation, he rushed over, gathering you into a tight embrace. The warmth of his arms enveloped you, an unspoken reassurance of the love that bridged the distance between you two. Your eyes welled up with tears, mirroring the emotion evident in his gaze.

"Happy birthday," you whispered, the words carrying the weight of your love and the joy of this surprise.

As Harry lifted his head, his lips sought yours in a cascade of affectionate kisses. Each press was a testament to the depth of the connection shared, a celebration of love that transcended the days of separation.

The room, filled with decorations and the silent witness of Milo, became a sanctuary for this spontaneous reunion.

In the midst of the kisses, Harry's laughter bubbled up, the sheer delight of the unexpected surprise washing over him.

"M’can't believe you're here," he admitted, his eyes sparkling with gratitude. Milo, sensing the joy, wagged his tail energetically, completing the tableau of love and celebration.

“I couldn't not see you on your birthday," you admitted with a warm smile, still wrapped in Harry's embrace.

"Milo missed his daddy so much that we had to come and surprise you." You winked playfully, a cheeky smile tugging at your lips. "And, well, maybe I missed you a bit too."

Harry's eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight.

"Y’really came all the way here just for me?" he asked, his voice filled with gratitude. Milo, sensing the joy in the room, barked in agreement, tail wagging enthusiastically.

Cupping his face in your hands, you responded, "Absolutely. Birthdays are meant to be celebrated with the ones you love, and we couldn't let a few miles keep us apart, now could we?"

“But I’ve got meetings the entire day,”he pouted, head getting thrown back slightly. “But I wanna spend the entire day with you.”

You played with the peach fuzz at the back of his neck. “Well it’s a good job I’ve cleared your schedule then, huh?”

“Wait,”he snapped his head over to yours from where he was staring lovingly at Milo. “So I’ve got the whole day with you?”

“We’ve got the whole day together, baby.” You confirmed, watching as his dimples appeared on his face.

In need of a refreshment, you and Harry migrated to the kitchen. As he poured himself an ice-cold glass of water, you settled at the kitchen island, nibbling on a cracker slathered with butter.

Looking at Harry, you asked, "Any cravings for today?"

He grinned and replied, "Actually, I've been craving a nice stroll around the town with Milo. Maybe we can stop for some ice cream and, perhaps, a cheeky bottle of rouge."

Harry's eyes sparkled with the prospect of a leisurely day. He reached for your hand, fingers intertwining, and continued, "What do you think, love?"

You offered a small smile, well aware that your current circumstances limited certain indulgences. "Sounds lovely," you responded, playing with the cross necklace around his neck. "I'm up for a walk and some ice cream.”

The wine….not so much.

/ /

As the day wore on, bathed in the warm glow of the Italian sun, you changed into a pair of comfortable denim shorts and one of Harry's shirts, embracing the casual charm of the town. The borrowed shirt hung loosely on your frame, carrying the familiar scent that provided a comforting connection to Harry.

Together, hand in hand, you and Harry strolled along the old streets, a timeless backdrop for the unfolding birthday celebration.

Milo, ever the enthusiastic companion, trotted alongside, his leash held firmly in Harry's hand. The cobbled streets echoed with the gentle sounds of your footsteps, creating a serene melody as you explored the charming corners of the town.

The quaint architecture and rustic charm of the surroundings added a picturesque touch to the shared moments of the day.

The narrow alleyways led you to hidden gems and inviting cafés, where the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet treats filled the air.

Each step carried with it the promise of discovery and the joy of simply being together. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm hue over the town, and the leisurely pace of the day allowed you to savor the simple pleasures of the moment.

As you continued your leisurely walk through the charming streets of Italy, Milo suddenly stopped in his tracks, his nose diligently sniffing around the ground. With an amused grin, you watched as he searched for just the right spot to do his business.

After a moment of consideration, Milo found the perfect place, and you turned to Harry with a playful expression.

"Happy birthday to you," you teased, handing Harry the poo bag with a grin. He laughed and fake gagged, taking the bag with a theatrical expression of horror.

Milo, seemingly oblivious to the lighthearted banter, continued with his canine duties, contributing his unique birthday gift to the day's events.

Continuing your walk through the enchanting town, you and Harry engaged in easy conversation, the cadence of laughter punctuating the air. The narrow streets echoed with the shared joy of the day, every step deepening the connection between you two. Silly anecdotes and playful banter flowed freely, turning the casual stroll into a delightful journey of shared moments.

As you meandered through the old streets, each corner unveiled new surprises, and every twist and turn became an opportunity for discovery. The simple act of being together, immersed in the charm of the surroundings, fueled the laughter and strengthened the bond between you and Harry.

As you continued your stroll through the charming town, the sight of a small bistro with a quaint outdoor seating area caught Harry's eye.

"How about we grab a bite there? it looks like a nice spot," he suggested, nodding toward the bistro. You agreed with a smile, appreciating the thought of a cozy meal in such a picturesque setting.

Heading towards the entrance, you were met by a friendly waiter.

"How can I help you?" he inquired. Harry responded,

"Just a table outside, please." The waiter, with a welcoming smile, gestured for you to follow, leading you to a charming table nestled in the outdoor seating area. The sun cast a warm glow, creating an inviting ambiance for a leisurely meal.

Seated at the quaint table, Milo by your side, the waiter handed you the menus. "Browse through these, a waiter will be over shortly, and let me know if there's anything else you need," he offered before leaving you to peruse the options. The aroma of delectable dishes wafted through the air, enhancing the anticipation of a delightful meal in the heart of the town.

Harry, glancing at the menu, looked up at you with a playful grin.

"What are you in the mood for, m’love?" he asked.

You.

Wait what?

As you and Harry enjoyed the cozy atmosphere of the bistro, another waiter, a friendly woman with a welcoming smile, approached your table.

"Good evening! Do you know what you'd like to order?" she inquired, pen poised above her notepad.

Harry, ever decisive, was the first to respond.

"I'll have a glass of y’house red wine, please," he said, glancing at the wine list.

Turning to you, the waiter asked, "And for you, ma'am?"

You flashed a smile and softly shook your head.

"I'll just go for a fresh lemonade, please." Attempting to steer away any suspicion, you added, "Feeling like something light today."

Harry, catching the cue, chimed in, "Just a light and easygoing evening, you know?"

He winked at you, his eyes filled with playful complicity.

The waiter jotted down your drink orders and nodded. "Certainly, a glass of red wine and a fresh lemonade. Now, what can I get for your main courses?"

You perused the menu, deciding on a chicken salad, and Harry opted for the salmon antipasto. You exchanged glances, sharing a silent agreement on the choices. As the waiter collected your menu choices, she remarked,

"Excellent choices! Your orders will be out shortly. Enjoy your evening!"

With the waiter's departure, Harry leaned in with a teasing grin.

"A fresh lemonade, m’love? Feeling like a saint today, are we?" he quipped, his playful banter laced with affection.

You chuckled, playing along. "Well, saints need a refreshing drink too, don't they? Besides, I'm saving room for that delicious chicken salad."

Harry laughed, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion. "Alright, alright, I won't question y’saintly decisions. S’just enjoy this lovely evening and the meal to come."

The waiter returned with your drinks about five minutes later, placing a glass of red wine in front of Harry and a refreshing lemonade for you. As she walked away, leaving you two to enjoy your beverages, you lifted your glass and initiated a spontaneous toast.

"Cheers to your birthday, my love," you exclaimed, your eyes sparkling with affection. "I just wanted to take a moment to say how much I love you. I can't wait to spend eternity together, celebrating moments like these."

Harry's gaze softened, and he blinked his glass against yours.

"To eternity and beyond," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "M’the luckiest person to have you by m’side. Here's to many more birthdays and unforgettable moments together."

The bistro's ambiance embraced the intimate exchange, and you continued to express your love and appreciation for Harry.

"You make every day special, but today, on your birthday, I want it to be extra magical for you," you confessed, your sincerity echoing in the quiet moments between sips of the refreshing lemonade.

Harry's smile widened, and he reached across the table to gently squeeze your hand. "Having y’here is the best gift I could ever ask for. Every moment with you is magical, and m’grateful for it all."

/ /

As the early evening settled around the villa, you found yourselves back in the comforting haven of your shared space. In the bathroom, bathed in a soft glow, you stood before the mirror, carefully removing mascara and eyeliner.

The simple act of cleansing away the day's makeup was a routine that marked the transition from daytime adventures to the quiet moments of the evening.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Harry lay on the bed, Milo nestled at his feet. He absentmindedly scratched at the short growth of hair on his head, a subtle reminder of a recent decision to shave it off.

The room radiated with a sense of tranquility as you each indulged in the rituals that marked the end of the day.

Wearing one of Harry's shirts that enveloped you in the familiar scent of him, you busied yourself in the bathroom, preparing a late evening birthday surprise.

The soft rustling sounds of your movements echoed against the backdrop of Harry's contemplative scratching, creating a harmony of shared space and intimate connection.

With a soft smile gracing your lips, you glanced at yourself in the bathroom mirror before deciding it was time to return to the bedroom.

Your hands were discreetly behind your back, holding a late evening birthday surprise for Harry. As you stepped into the bedroom, Harry, already seated on the bed, noticed your presence and sat up, beckoning you with open arms.

"I want a cuddle," he declared, his eyes twinkling with a playful warmth. Unable to resist his endearing request, you let out a soft giggle at his baby-like antics.

Playfully, you approached the bed as he beckoned you forward.

Crawling onto the bed next to him, you let yourself be enveloped in his arms. You laid your head on his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart echoing comfort and love.

The anticipation of the surprise gift still hidden behind your back added an extra layer of excitement to the intimate moment.

"I missed you," Harry murmured, his voice a gentle caress. You pressed a kiss over his heart, savoring the warmth of the connection. His arms tightened around you, embracing the familiar comfort of being close.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at Harry with a warm smile, saying, "I've got one last present for you. Close your eyes."

Harry hesitated for a moment, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, before obediently shutting his eyes. With gentle steps, you moved towards him, the late evening's golden glow casting a soft ambiance around you.

In your hands, you held a delicate gift, and with a mix of hesitation and tenderness, you softly placed it in Harry's hands.

"Okay, open your eyes," you instructed, your heart fluttering with a secret that had the power to change your lives forever.

Harry blinked his eyes open, and as he glanced down at his hands, a flicker of confusion passed over his face. Then, his gaze landed on the small object nestled in his palms.

It took a moment for the realisation to sink in, and when he saw what it was, his eyes widened, and he gasped.

"What... is this?" Harry stammered, his voice shaky with emotion.

His trembling fingers picked up the small pregnancy test.

The room fell silent as the weight of the revelation settled in. Harry's eyes locked onto the test, and tears immediately welled up.

"S’this for real?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "This isn't some sick joke, right?"

You shook your head, a mixture of joy and vulnerability in your gaze. Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead against his, tears streaming down both your cheeks.

"It's true, H. I'm eleven weeks pregnant," you whispered, the magnitude of the moment engulfing you both in a wave of overwhelming emotions.

Harry's breath caught, and he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes.

"I... we're going to be parents?" he uttered, a mix of disbelief and elation in his voice.

A tender smile graced your lips, and you nodded. "Yes, Harry. We're going to be parents."

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

"I can't believe it. M’going to be a dad," he mumbled against your hair, his voice filled with a joy that echoed through the room.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Harry leaned forward, his hand gently pressing against your stomach as if trying to connect with the new life growing within.

The tender touch conveyed a depth of love that words could only strive to express. His lips found yours in a sweet, lingering kiss, and as he pulled back, he whispered, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

“This is the best birthday ever,”he spoke, chocking out a soft sob. “Thank you m’love, thank you, thank you for making us parents.”

You softly placed your hands on his cheeks to get him to look at you, and when his green eyes met yours, you smiled at him tenderly.

“Happy 30th Birthday, Baby.”

497 notes · View notes

musicforastylesrestaurant · 10 months

Note

I have an ideaaa so maybe you like to write about it. Imagine harry having a long term girlfriend or even wife but they are so private and harry protects her so much that nobody in the general public really knows anything about her or their relationship and the fans eat up every single information or content they can get about her and their relationship.

Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh Mysterious Girl.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - this is my first time doing an instagram concept of sorts and i wanted to make it easy on myself and use manips of harry with someone who i chose queen selena, please don’t be harsh on me and enjoy. 🫶

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2013.

liked by username, username and 413 others

harryupdates, Harry spotted going on a park walk with a mystery girl in London today!

tagged, harrystyles

view all comments,

username, who is she?

username, sorry but no

username, she’s actually so pretty!!

username, right?

username, his little beany 👉👈

username, they legit look like they could be siblings

username, they look so beautiful together

username, what part of London is this?

username, it was Hyde park!

username, if they’re dating then they make such a hot couple

username, PAPA

username, her names (Y/N) I’m not sure how old she is or what her job is but she’s from London

username, (Y/N) is such a cute name!

2015.

liked by username, username and 673 others

harryupdates, Harry and (Y/N) spotted at Louis’s mums wedding today!!

tagged, harrystyles, yourinstagram

view all comments

username, power couple right there!!

username, they attended her wedding together?

username, I mean they are dating so it would explain things 🤷‍♀️

username, it’s never been confirmed that they’re dating

username, his outfit is making me feel so many different thoughts

username, I don’t get what the hype of them is, she’s not even that pretty

username, don’t be so rude!

username, just because your jealous doesn’t mean that he can’t be happy

username, we better get the photo that she took on her phone

username, her Instagram accounts private so I highly doubt we will

username, I actually love them

username, she’s so gorgeous for literally no reason

username, imagine they got married as well

username, my life would officially end

username, if they got married they wouldn’t last, she’s probably a gold digger or something

liked by username, username and 1,381 others

harryupdates, Harry and (Y/N) arriving at the last ever one direction performance today!

tagged, harrystyles, yourinstagram

view all comments

username, we love a supportive gf

username, her smile is actually adorable

username, I spoke to her when they were arriving and she was actually one of the nicest people I’d ever spoken to

username, what did you say to her?! we need details!!

username, I said that her and Harry make a really cute couple and she said thank you and we have each other a hug

username, I need to meet both of them one day!

username, I can’t believe it’s the last show already

username, there outfits are actually so pretty!

username, I love the fact that we haven’t seen them together in almost five months and they just suddenly app at together out of no where

username, every time I see a notification that you’ve posted I hope that it’s something ti do with them

username, sometimes I just Google both there names and scroll through pictures of them

username, I don’t get why they get so much hate, I love them together !!

2017.

liked by username, username and 4,319 others

harryandynupdates, A photo montage of (Y/N) supporting Harry at the Dunkirk Premiere.

tagged, harrystyles, yourinstagram

view all comments

username, her red dress is so cute !!

username, her head resting on his shoulder is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life

username, it’s officially confirmed that they’re dating

username, they look so in love

username, if they ever broke up I don’t think I’d be able to live

username, the kiss on the lips is making me feel a multitude of different things

username, I’m having heart palpitations over here

username, can they adopt me?

username, CONTENT CONTENT CONTENT

yourinstagram, thank you so much for creating this, I’m putting this as my lock screen as we speak. ❤️

username, (Y/N)!

username, the queen has spoken!

username, she commented, I repeat she commented !

username, she basically confirmed that they were dating

username, it’s been confirmed for ages we just never wanted to believe it.

liked by yourinstagram, jeffazof and 542,108 others

annetwist, Merry Christmas from my family to yours!🎄🎅

view all comments

username, I want to be part of there family Christmas so badly

username, seeing photos of (Y/N) actually make me so happy!

username, she’s so pretty for literally no reason

yourinstagram, thank you so much lovelies, it means a lot ❤️

username, I want there roast dinner

username, (Y/N) CONTENT (Y/N) CONTENT

username, isn’t Harry pescatarian?

username, doesn’t mean that the others can’t have turkey?

username, all the stockings on the fire place 🥹🥹

gemmastyles, one of the best Christmases ever! x

username, gem!

username, the better styles right there!

username, (Y/N) and Harry are legit couple goals

username, you and Gemma are mother and daughter goals

yourinstagram, one of the best Christmases I’ve ever had, thank you for having me. ❤️❤️

username, she’s so cute, I love it!

annetwist, it was my pleasure, darling. x

username, she’s part of the family, omds I’m sobbing 😭

username, the photo of (Y/N) and Harry in the snow!

username, CONTENT, MAMA YOUR FEEDING US

username, (Y/N)s officially part of the annual Christmas photo

username, she’s winning at life right now

username, (Y/N) OUR QUEEN! 👸 👸

2019.

liked by username, username and 6,310 others

harryupdates, Harry speaking about (Y/N) in his recent interview with Zane Lowe!

“I met my fiancé when we were just eighteen and didn’t officially start dating until I gained the courage to ask her out at a mutual friends party, she’s my best friend and always will be, she’s my biggest inspiration and honestly don’t know what I’d be doing if I hadn’t of met her…I didn’t really think I’d ever be in love, not in this degree anyway. My whole family adore her just as much as me and that’s all I could ever ask for.

she knew what she was getting into when we started dating and that’s what I think made us want to keep our relationship so private, I don’t want her exposed to all the paparazzi knowing the cruel things that they can say, I like to think I’m an open book and seeing how she is with my life styles, and my fans makes me love her even more, which I didn’t think was at all possible.”

tagged, harrystyles

view all comments.

username, FIANCE?

username, you kept that one quiet mister!

username, (Y/N)s not even that pretty, he deserves better

username, literally stfu pls and thx

username, get a life

username, he’s so happy

username, I love that his family love her as well, that makes her even more special!

nicolasgrimshaw, Its' me! I'm the friend!!

username, NICK!

username, LOVE THAT <3

username, nick the match maker

username, his biggest inspiration, sobbing on the floor

username, currently digging my own grave as we speak

username, he deserves to be with someone who can deal with his celebrity status, she’s obviously to weak if he has to say that about her in an interview

username, keyboard warrior

username, if she had an issue with his life she would have left a long time ago

liked by gemmastyles, nicolasgrimshaw and 431,481 others

annetwist, Happy Birthday sweet heart, here’s to 25! 🥂

tagged, yourinstagram

view all comments

username, she calls her sweet heart, I'm sobbing!

username, hey Anne, I was wondering if you could adopt me, <3

username, don't ask me why this made me so emotional its literally just a picture

username, her smile 😭😭

username, shes legit so pretty for real 💗

username, we finally found out her age!

username, was she smiling at harry when this photo was being taken?

yourinstgram, ❤️️❤️️❤️️

username, QUEEN!

username, this so so sweet!

username, this family is actually so sweet

username, Sorry everyone I'm new and don't know who she is can someone tell me?

username, she's Harry's fiancé, her names (Y/N)

username, thank you !

username, sorry Anne she's not your sweetheart, she's our sweetheart!

username, she still exists?

username, she always has and always will

gemmastyles, 👑

username, my heart hearts please this is too much

username, YN CONTENT MY LIFE IS NOW A HAPPY ONE

username, that's literally my reaction every time I see a new picture of her

2020.

liked by username, username and 8,917 others

harryupdates, LEAKED PHOTOS OF (Y/N) AND HARRY. SOMEONE HACKED ANNE'S ICLOUD AGAIN!

tagged, harrystyles, yourinstagram

view all comments.

username, no wtf?

username, who hacked Anne tf?

username, these photos are cute and all but i think the family would really appreciate if you didn't repost them everywhere

username, as much as I hate the fact anne got hacked, these photos are actually adorable

username, the fifth photo

username, they're so in love it actually hurts my chest☹️

username, delete these right now!

username, unfollow!

username, the photo of them laying in the grass

username, knowing she was with him the day that photoshoot took place is actually so freakin cute!

username, this is the one time i'm not happy i got a picture of (Y/N)

username, who hacked anne like get a fucking life

username, (Y/N) content has never made me feel so sad

username, in the fourth photo, you can see Anne just wanted a photo with her son but she just had to photo bomb it.

username, the smile on Anne's face tells me she doesn't care.

username, this is actually sickening

username, as much as I hate what's happened and the fact there privacy's been exposed, this drama is eating me up

username, take these down right now

2023.

liked by username, username and 4,194 others

harryandynupdates, (Y/N) was spotted in the crowd at Harry's Cardiff Show today supporting him!

tagged, yourinstagram

view all comments.

username, I LOVE HOW SUPPORTIVE SHE IS

username, she's so happy to be there omds

username, having major fomo over here

username, I knew she was at all his other shows but no one ever got a photo, so thank you to whoever for blessing us with this <3

username, it was me, I was with my sister and she recognised her straight away, she was in the private pit with Jeff and Glenne.

username, I need to party with her so bad

username, like legit it's on my bucket list

username, god blessed us with her

username, she seems so care free like it's actually adorable

username, the man on the left of the photo looks like gino d'acampo

username, I CAN SEE IT!

username, YOUR ACTUALLY RIGHT!!

username, she's his biggest supporter

username, she's just like me!

username, she's his biggest hype women!

username, why is she pulling that face?

username, I've never been more in love with her like wtaf?

username, making me cry seeing how happy and carefree she is being

username, seeing her so happy makes me so happy

liked by username, username and 9,104 others

harryupdates, "I CAME HERE HOPING THAT I WOULD SEE (Y/N) BUT I GOT YOU INSTEAD!" Harry reading a sign at the concert tonight and answering with:

"You came here to see my wife? Hate to break it to you sista but she's not here tonight, she's got a stomach bug and was crushed when the medic told her not to leave the bed, so sorry but you'll have to put up with me instead!"

tagged, harrystyles

view all comments.

username, WIFE?!

username, nah he got married?

username, IM ACTUALLY SOBBING LIKE WTF?!

username, I KNEW THEY WERE ENGAGED AND ALL BUT WHEN THE FUCK DID THEY GET MARRIED?!

username, now they can finally adopt me?

username, this content of him and (Y/N) was not something I thought I'd be seeing in 2023.

username, I'm actually so happy for them right now

username, Harry deserves to be happy, and (Y/N) is the perfect person for him

username, literally no one likes her its probably a publicity stunt

username, a publicity stunt that's lasted ten years?!

username, CONGRATS

username, she's in it all for the money

username, CONTENT I REPEAT CONTENT

username, how long do you think they've been married for?

username, I'm thinking some time between Christmas and when tour started up again

username, is this just another way for him to make money?

username, he has a wife?

username, the next thing for him to achieve is becoming a dilf

username, the world would officially end when that happens

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1K notes · View notes

musicforastylesrestaurant · 3 months

Text

Tremulous.

adjective ‘shaking or quivering slightly’

in which, your a patient of doctor styles, and even though he’s supposed to be a professional, his attraction towards you blooms when he can’t seem to get you out of his head, but there’s a few problems that seem to be in his way.

word count - 2.6k

authors note- i know that this could have been longer considering the wait, but the other parts are going to be much better, contain more of a story, and definitely be longer, im sorry if this is not what you all expected <3

warnings: mentions of domestic abuse, hospitals, swearing, and a man named corey.

January 27th, 2024.

Once, you fervently clung to the notion of happily ever afters, your worldview painted with the romantic brushstrokes of fairy tales. However, that unwavering belief underwent a profound transformation. Life's intricate narrative unraveled before your eyes, revealing the nuanced shades of reality that escape the simplistic tales.

About a year ago, the realisation struck you like a revelation. The fairy-tale endings you once sought seemed elusive, replaced by the complex tapestry of life's unpredictable twists. You navigated through disappointments, heartaches, and the ever-shifting sands of relationships, learning that happiness wasn't a static destination but a dynamic journey.

When you met Corey, you beloved that just everything was going to be perfect, that you were going to get married, start a family and then finally would live a happily ever after.

But now, sitting in a hospital waiting room, a black eye and some bruised ribs, you soon realised that a happily ever after was not on your cards, and you didn’t think it ever would be.

Seated in the desolate hush of the hospital waiting room, Corey is by your side, his hand resting on your knee. However, the once-comforting touch has turned into an unintended source of discomfort. His nails, instead of offering solace, are slowly digging into your skin, creating a painful undertone beneath the already strained atmosphere.

The black eye you wear becomes a visible testament to the turbulent storm that has swept through your life, a storm now reflected in Corey's furrowed brow and tightening grip.

Each breath brings a searing pain to your ribs, a constant reminder of the physical toll exacted by whatever led you to this sterile purgatory. Corey's scowl intensifies, mirroring the tension in the room, as if the shared discomfort has found a physical expression.

The minutes drag on, marked by the rhythmic ticking of the waiting room clock, and you find yourself caught between the silent agony of your injuries and the unspoken worry etched on Corey's face.

You've always harbored a deep-seated desire to work in a hospital, a passion that initially fueled your excitement to embark on the journey of medical school. Back when you first met Corey, the prospect of donning a white coat and making a difference in people's lives seemed like a tangible dream. Fresh out of college, you were poised to step into the world of academia, eager to pursue your lifelong aspiration.

However, the trajectory of your dreams shifted when Corey entered the scene. In a whirlwind of emotions, he managed to sway your mind away from the academic pursuit you'd envisioned. With promises of missing you and a shared future that seemed brighter together, you decided to forego university and chose a different path.

Now, in the painful silence of the waiting room, regrets echo through your thoughts, as the realization settles that the sacrifice made for love might have cost you the chance to pursue your professional calling.

You can’t help but wish that you had gained enough courage back then to abandon him, because now…now your too scared to even breath around him, let alone run.

A nurse emerges from one of the doors, a clipboard in hand, and calls your name, "Y/N Y/L/N."

The mention of your name cuts through the sterile air, and both you and Corey rise from the uneasy embrace of the waiting room chairs. Your hands tremble as you follow the nurse, her brisk steps leading you into a room. The corridor seems to stretch indefinitely, anxiety intensifying with every step.

Once inside the room, the nurse gestures towards the bed,

"Please, have a seat." The paper on the bed crinkles beneath you as you comply, Corey standing nearby, his eyes mirroring the concern etched on your face.

As you settle onto the crisp hospital bed, the nurse efficiently checks your vitals, the rhythmic beep of the monitor punctuating the tension in the room. Her practised hands move with precision, measuring your pulse and blood pressure.

After the thorough examination, the nurse glances at the readings and nods.

"Your vitals seem stable," she states, her professional demeanor carrying a hint of compassion. "A doctor will be in to see you shortly. In the meantime, if you need anything or if the pain intensifies, don't hesitate to press the call button."

The weight of the impending doctor's visit hangs in the air, and you exchange a glance with Corey, your unspoken worries echoing in the silence of the room.

As the nurse departs, Corey's demeanor shifts abruptly. He harshly grabs your face, turning it towards him, his grip uncomfortably tight. His words cut through the air, "Remember what we said you'd tell them, right?"

A cold shiver runs down your spine as you nod in agreement, the tremor in your voice betraying the underlying fear.

Corey's gaze remains intense as he adds, "If you say the wrong thing, you will regret it."

The ominous warning lingers in the room, leaving you with a sense of dread.

Before you can respond, the curtain is abruptly pulled back, revealing a doctor with brown curly hair and piercing green eyes. Tattoos peeking out from the top of his scrubs and doctor coat hint at a more casual side.

His entrance interrupts the charged moment between you and Corey, injecting a fresh wave of tension into the air. The doctor offers a professional smile, though his gaze holds a discerning curiosity.

"Good afternoon. M’Dr. Styles," he introduces himself, glancing between you and Corey. "Let's talk about what brought you in today."

The weight of Corey's warning still echoes in your mind as you navigate the delicate balance between truth and the narrative you've been instructed to follow.

With a hesitant gulp, you summon the courage to speak.

"Uh, I had a bit of an accident," you begin, your voice quivering. "I... I fell down the stairs."

The admission hangs in the air, and you avoid Dr. Styles' eyes, your gaze fixed on the sterile surroundings.

Dr. Styles, his expression unreadable, continues to observe you closely.

"Fell down the stairs?" he repeats, a note of scepticism in his tone.

You nod, trying to appear convincing while the weight of fear presses down on you. The room feels stifling as you navigate the delicate dance of half-truths, your primary concern not to incur Corey's wrath.

"It was just a clumsy misstep," you add, your words laced with anxiety.

Dr. Styles, a man of clinical composure, glanced at Corey's bruised knuckles without a word, documenting the silent evidence on his clipboard.

He then turned his attention back to you, a hint of professional detachment in his green eyes.

"Well, let's get started. Where is the pain located?" Dr. Styles asked, his voice measured.

Your response quivered with nerves, "It's in…my ribs, doctor…Been hurting quite… a bit."

The doctor nodded, scribbling down your words. His gaze flickered over Corey's hands, perhaps noting the story they told without needing verbal confirmation. The air hung heavy with unspoken tension.

"Now, I need to check y’heart rate. S’that okay?" Dr. Styles inquired, his eyes fixing on yours.

A nod escaped your body.

Looking directly at you, Dr. Styles sought more than a nod. "I need verbal confirmation, not just gestures. Can y’confirm verbally that I can proceed?"

A tense smile played on your lips as you stammered, "Yes, go…go ahead."

There was no denying that Dr.Styles wasn’t a good looking man, his green eyes looked captivating, and for some reason, you felt safe in his presence.

The same couldn’t be said for Corey.

As the stethoscope pressed against your chest, a rush of anxiety surged through you. Your eyes met Corey's, silently expressing the fear of unravelling under the doctor's scrutiny.

Guided through deep breaths, your heart raced under Dr. Styles' scrutiny. The doctor noticed the anxiety etched on your face but remained professionally silent. His expertise unfolded like a story, revealing only what needed to be seen.

"Alright, here we go. Deep breath in, and out," Dr. Styles directed, his actions dictating the pace of this clandestine tale.

"Heart rate seems stable. Anything else you'd like to share about how this happened?" Dr. Styles inquired, maintaining an air of curiosity without prying too deeply.

You shook your head, your story consistent, "No, just a…clumsy fall down… the stairs."

"M’need to run a few more tests," he explained. "Would y’mind if your friend steps outside and waits in the waiting room? It won't take long."

Corey, however, reacted strongly to the suggestion. "What? No way! I'm staying right here. I'm her boyfriend, and I have every right to be in the room!"

Dr. Styles, calmly, responded, "I understand y’concern, but there are aspects of the examination that are private. S’common for patients to have some privacy during certain parts of the examination unless they suggest otherwise."

Corey, not willing to back down, kicked off, insulting Dr. Styles. "I'm not leaving. This is ridiculous. I have a right to be here."

Dr. Styles, unyielding, reiterated, "It's standard procedure f’certain parts of the examination to be conducted in private, unless the patient suggests otherwise."

You shared a hesitant look with Corey, feeling the tension escalate. Finally, with a deep breath, you mustered the courage to speak up, "Corey, maybe it's….better if you wait…outside for this part. It won't take long…and I'll be fine."

Corey's expression hardened, but he reluctantly left the room, shooting a final glare at Dr. Styles.

With Corey outside the room, Dr. Styles spoke gently, "I need t’examine your abdomen to check f’any signs of internal bleeding. For a thorough examination, I'll need you to remove your shirt."

You hesitated, anxiety clouding your eyes.

"I... I don't want to take my shirt off," you admitted, your voice trembling.

Dr. Styles, his tone reassuring, explained, "I understand, but it's crucial to assess any potential internal injuries. I'll do my best to make you as comfortable as possible, and we can proceed at your pace."

Taking a deep breath, you nodded hesitantly, beginning to remove your shirt, leaving you in just a sports bra. Dr. Styles' eyes widened as he saw the bruises that marred your torso, a silent testimony to the pain you had endured.

Concern etched on his face, Dr. Styles gently inquired, "Are you okay with me touching you for the examination?"

“Yes Doctor.” With a hesitant nod, you allowed him to proceed.

“Please,” he caught your gaze and tilted his head to the side. “Call me Harry.”

Dr. Styles' cool hands glided across your body as he carefully examined your abdomen. The room felt silent, the only sound being the measured breaths you took to steady yourself.

Dr. Styles, noticing your discomfort, apologized, "M’sorry if this causes any pain. Please let me know if anything feels too much."

As his hands explored, you flinched when he pressed too hard on a sensitive spot.

You winced.

Dr. Styles immediately pulled back, concern evident in his eyes. "M’sorry for any pain. We'll take it slow, and I'll be as gentle as possible."

You nodded, appreciating his care, and he continued the examination with increased caution. The vulnerability of the moment hung in the air, yet there was a sense of trust developing between you and Dr. Styles,

Before proceeding with the examination, Dr. Styles decided to ask a few questions. "Let's start with something basic. How old are you?"

You replied, "I'm 25."

Nodding, Dr. Styles moved on to the next question. "How often do you exercise?"

You thought for a moment before responding, "I walk to work every day, so I'd say I get some exercise regularly."

Dr. Styles continued his inquiries, "Are you currently taking any medication?"

"No, I'm not on any medication right now," you assured him.

The next question touched on a different aspect, "Are you pregnant or currently trying to conceive?"

With a quick response, you answered, "No, not pregnant and not trying."

Dr. Styles, satisfied with the information gathered, prepared to proceed with the examination. "Thank you for providing those details.

Dr. Styles, with a cautious tone, expressed, "I have one more question, and I don't want you to take this the wrong way.”

You look up at him through thick eye lashes.

“Does Corey abuse you?"

The question hung in the air, and you felt a shock ripple through you. Corey had made it abundantly clear that uttering a word about what you went through was strictly forbidden.

In that moment, you hesitated, your mind racing, but you couldn't bring yourself to voice the truth.

With a heavy heart, you shook your head and replied, "No, Corey would never do anything like that."

Dr. Styles, perceptive to the delicate nature of the situation, continued with a compassionate demeanor, "I understand that this might be a sensitive topic. It's crucial for me to ask because your well-being is my priority. If, at any point, you feel the need to talk or share, my role is to support you."

Feeling the weight of the unspoken truth, you nodded, your eyes reflecting the internal struggle. Dr. Styles respected the boundaries, recognizing the complexity of the situation.

He added, "I want you to know that your safety and comfort are paramount. If you ever need assistance or someone to talk to, there are resources available, and my team is here to help. It's essential that you feel supported in your journey to recovery."

The conversation concluded with an understanding silence, leaving an open door for you to seek help when you were ready

Dr. Styles cleared his throat, breaking the lingering eye contact between the two of you. He stood up, a professional shift in his demeanor.

"M’going to get you scheduled for an x-ray based on the nature of your injuries," he explained, offering a reassuring smile.

As he left the room, you couldn't help but notice a soft smile on his face when he looked back at you. The curtain was pulled gently behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the echoes of the examination.

A realization began to dawn on him – the inherent injustice of your circumstances and the courage you displayed in the face of adversity. Amidst these reflections, another thought surfaced: just how remarkably pretty you were.

As he considered the emotional and physical toll you endured, Dr. Styles found himself admiring not only your strength but also your undeniable beauty. The compassion he felt transcended the professional realm, stirring a personal acknowledgment of the unfairness life had dealt you.

In a quiet moment at the doctor's station, he couldn't help but entertain a fleeting fantasy – what if circumstances were different? Dr. Styles wondered, with a twinge of regret, how different things might be if you weren't with someone like Corey.

In his opinion, you were gorgeous.

Your eyes would forever be stuck in his mind, even if he was to never see you again, the way your hair framed your face, and your dimples appeared when you were talking to him.

If he was to ever see you again, he would get to know you more, and he couldn’t help but wonder what you would look like with your body not covered in bruises, and wondered what your body would look like bent over his—

‘Stop it, Harry.’

His inner conscience told himself, you were his patient, and he was your doctor.

He had to be professional.

The unspoken connection between you lingered in his mind, and he found himself contemplating a different narrative, one where he might have asked you out, free from the shadows that seemed to engulf your current relationship.

As you sat on the hospital bed and picked at your fingernails, trying to remove the dried blood from under neath, when the curtain getting pulled open made you stop your actions and for your breath to hitch on your throat.

Corey stormed back into the room, anger radiating from him like a palpable force, his eyes fixed on you with a cold, threatening glare. The tension in the room intensified as he made a menacing declaration,

"You're in for it when we get home."

Your heart sank at the ominous words, and fear flickered in your eyes as you braced for what awaited you.

Oh, how you wished you had told Dr. Styles the truth, but just like always, you were starting to regret it.

407 notes · View notes

musicforastylesrestaurant · 4 months

Note

Harry and yn and there two kids on holiday and fans come up to them and harry asks them to respect there privacy and all that?

Caribbean Privacy.

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my blurb masterlist is here !!

authors note - first blurb of 2024 people and it’s based on the brand new photos we got, so enjoy my loves.

word count - 1.7k

in which, you and harry decided to go for a little family holiday to start the new year off on the right foot, and went to a caribbean island, where your just trying to enjoy yourselves, and spend some quality time with your two children, when a couple of fans spot your husband.

As the first light of the new year streamed through the curtains, you woke up to the sweet realization that your partner had planned a surprise holiday to the Caribbean.

The joy in your heart was mirrored in the excited expressions of Kai, your energetic five-year-old, and little Lexi, who had just turned six months old. The promise of sun-soaked beaches and turquoise waters made the early morning hustle of packing bags and herding the family to the airport an adventure in itself.

Arriving at your tropical destination, the sound of gentle waves and the warmth of the sun embraced you. The resort's palm-fringed surroundings set the stage for a family retreat filled with laughter and cherished moments.

The holiday would be lasting a total of two weeks and so far the four of you had been there for four out of a possible fourteen.

The first day was spent chilling and getting the kids into a routine, the second day was filled with sunbathing and the third day you took the kids to do some activities so that they wouldn’t get too bored.

It was the afternoon of the fourth day at the resort, for a majority of the morning you had all gone for a walk, trying to get your bearings of where you were going to be staying.

It was nearing one pm now, and the four of you were making your way to the hotel outdoor restaurant, where other families, friends and couples were currently sat, all decked out in summer clothes just like you and your family were.

The rhythmic roll of the stroller, carrying the enchanting Lexi, created a soothing background to the lively atmosphere. Harry, with Kai perched on his shoulders, exuded paternal pride as his son's tiny fingers playfully explored the newly sprouting hair after a recent buzz cut.

The infectious giggles from Kai echoed through the space, forming a symphony of joy that seemed to harmonize with the clinking of cutlery and murmurs of other guests.

Just moments later, a courteous waiter approached, exuding the charm of the Caribbean hospitality.

"Good afternoon! Can I start you off with some drinks?" he inquired with a warm smile.

Harry, with a chuckle, ordered a beer for himself, emphasising that it was a well-deserved vacation treat.

Kai, his eyes sparkling, announced proudly, "Chocolate milkshake, please!"

You joined in, opting for a refreshing mojito to complement the tropical ambiance. The waiter, noting down the orders, promised to return shortly with the concoctions that would add an extra layer of delight to your family gathering.

The backdrop of the restaurant's tropical charm provided the perfect setting for a moment of connection.

"This surprise vacation was a brilliant idea," you remarked, a smile playing on your lips.

Harry, his eyes filled with satisfaction, responded, "M’figured we all needed a break, and what better way t’start the year?"

Kai, still perched atop his father's shoulders, chimed in, "I like the beach, Mommy! Can we build a sandcastle tomorrow?"

His enthusiasm was infectious, prompting laughter from both you and Harry.

"Absolutely, buddy! We'll build the biggest sandcastle the beach ‘as ever seen," Harry promised, ruffling Kai's hair.

November 2019, you gave birth to Kai Robin Styles, at a home birth in yours and Harry’s London home.

As the conversation continued, you found yourselves reflecting on the year that had passed and the excitement of what lay ahead.

“ ‘Member when Lex was just a tiny bump?" Harry mused, glancing affectionately at your baby girl. "Now look at her, enjoying her first vacation. Time really does fly,"

You had gone into Labour with Lexi Anne Styles after Harry’s Show in Warsaw, the birth wasn’t very traumatic but the fact that you have birth in the backstage area of a stadium add a million different stress levels.

The waiter returned with a tray of drinks, delivering a frothy beer for Harry, a velvety chocolate milkshake for Kai, and a refreshing mojito for yourself.

The clinking of glasses marked the beginning of a shared toast.

"To family adventures and new beginnings," Harry proposed, raising his beer.

It wasn’t long before you had placed your food orders, and then it was back to chit chatting.

Lexi began to express her hunger with soft whimpers from the comfort of her stroller. Harry, always attuned to his children's needs, suggested, "Looks like someone's ready f’a meal. How about I feed her?"

Agreeing with a smile, you watched affectionately as Harry gently lifted Lexi from the stroller. With practised ease, he retrieved the pre-made bottle from the baby bag. Cradling Lexi in his arms, he began a tender dialogue, showering her with words of endearment.

"Y’know, Love bug, y’the most perfect baby in the world. Mom and I are so lucky t’have you," he whispered, his words infused with a genuine warmth that mirrored the love you both felt for your little one.

As Harry spoke to Lexi, your gaze shifted to Kai, who was deeply immersed in coloring his book. His tiny fingers danced across the paper, creating vibrant strokes that mirrored the lively atmosphere of the Caribbean surroundings. The restaurant transformed into a canvas of family moments — the quiet focus of an older brother, the nurturing presence of a father, and the unspoken connection between mother and daughter.

Amidst the lively ambiance of the restaurant, you couldn't help but notice a group of girls at a nearby table who seemed to have recognized your husband. Whispers and excited glances were exchanged among them, and you could see them mustering the courage to approach him for a photo.

Sensing their intentions, you leaned in to Harry and discreetly warned him about the approaching fangirls.

Harry, with a resigned sigh, glanced over his shoulder and nodded.

"Just ignore ‘em, love. It happens," he reassured you, his eyes reflecting the weariness of a man accustomed to such encounters.

The prospect of being in the spotlight, even during a family dinner, was not a new experience for him. Grateful that your kids were facing away, oblivious to the attention, you both focused on enjoying the moment together as a family.

As the girls behind you worked up the courage to approach, you and Harry engaged in casual conversation, attempting to divert attention from the brewing fan encounter.

"Remember that time in Paris?" you teased, trying to lighten the mood. Harry chuckled, because he knew exactly what you were talking about.

"Good times," he agreed, sharing a smile with you, appreciating the effort to shield your family from the attention that occasionally came with his public persona.

“H, there definitely coming.”

Harry, glancing over his shoulder, nodded in acknowledgment.

"Yeah, I see them. Just give them a friendly smile if they approach, and I'll handle it. S’not let it bother us," he suggested, his voice carrying a hint of resignation.

He was no stranger to such encounters, having navigated the challenges of fame before. The weariness in his eyes reflected a desire for a quiet family dinner undisturbed by fan interactions.

The restaurant buzzed with activity as the group of excited fans approached your table.

"Harry, we're such huge fans! Can we get a quick photo and an autograph?" one of them eagerly requested, holding out a notepad and a pen.

With a gracious smile, Harry acknowledged their enthusiasm.

"M’grateful f’your support, but at the moment, we're trying to have a quiet family dinner, so I won't be able to do autographs right now," he gently explained, a polite refusal delivered with a sense of understanding.

Despite his explanation, the fans persisted, urging for both a photo and an autograph. The atmosphere at the table shifted as Lexi, nestled in Harry's lap, started to express her unease with a few whimpers.

Sensing his sister's discomfort, Kai moved closer to your side, seeking comfort in the familiar presence of family. Harry, noticing the subtle disruption, addressed the fans with empathy.

The fans, eager to capture a moment with their idol, continued to press for both a photo and an autograph. Harry, maintaining his composure, gently reiterated, "I really appreciate y’support, but right now, We're just trying t’enjoy a family dinner without any interruptions."

The fans, realizing the impact on the children, paused for a moment. Harry, sensing the need to reinforce the boundary, continued,

"Thanks for understanding." His words were delivered with a blend of gratitude and a protective instinct for his family.

As the fans reluctantly stepped back, a mix of disappointment and understanding painted their expressions. Your family returned to the rhythm of your evening, attempting to reclaim the sense of tranquillity that had been momentarily disrupted. Lexi, still cradled in Harry's arms, gradually settled, comforted by the familiar presence of her parents and brother.

Harry, with a reassuring smile, turned his attention back to the dinner table.

"Sorry about that, m’love," he whispered to you, the gentle apology carrying the weight of the delicate balancing act that came with his fame.

"It's alright," you responded, understanding the complexities of navigating public and private moments.

Kai, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, looked up from his colouring book with a curious expression.

"Why did those people want pictures, Mommy?" he asked, his innocent curiosity breaking the momentary tension.

You looked down to his eye level, offering a simple yet honest explanation, "Sometimes, people recognize Daddy from his work, and they want to say hello or take a picture because they really like what he does."

Harry, appreciating your delicate handling of the situation, chimed in,

"That's right, buddy. Daddy's work makes people happy, and sometimes they just want to share that happiness with us."

Sensing his sons discomfort, Harry gently ushered him over, placing him on the other side of his lap.

"Hey, Kai, come here, sweet boy," Harry said softly, creating a protective space for him. As Kai nestled in closer,

Harry continued, "I want you t’know that no matter what happens, Daddy will always keep you safe. Those moments might be a bit strange, but we're a team, okay?"

Kai, his big brown eyes searching for reassurance, nodded in understanding. "

Team," he echoed, a small smile breaking through the remnants of unease.

Harry wrapped his arm around Kai, holding him close to his chest.

"Exactly, little man. We're a team, and nothing will ever change that," Harry affirmed, his voice a soothing melody of love and comfort.

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 2 months

Text

His Forever Valentine.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - happy valentines day you sexy people, mwah !!

word count - 4.3k

in which, you and harry have been each others valentines for what seems like forever, it all started back in 2014, and now, in 2024, your love story is still going strong, so when you look back on memories from over the years, the two of you realise just how far you’ve really come.

February 14th, 2024.

You let out a soft huff.

Last night, you and your husband had taken part in some secret little rendezvous and that had meant that clothes were discarded all over the floor, which you had left until this morning to be cleaned up.

So now, here you were.

As you tidy up the bedroom, picking up clothes strewn across the floor, your foot suddenly collides with something solid.

You glance down and notice a shoebox with "Valentine's Day" scrawled across the lid. Curiosity piqued, you bend down to pick it up, recognizing it as the container for your cherished Polaroid camera and the collection of snapshots you and your husband have taken on Valentine's Days past.

With a gentle tug, you open the lid, revealing a treasure trove of memories captured in instant film. Each photograph tells a story of love, laughter, and shared moments over the years.

You smile as you sift through the images, remembering the joy of each Valentine's Day celebration spent together.

The camera nestled among the Polaroids brings back memories of spontaneous snapshots, impromptu poses, and candid shots captured in the heat of the moment. It's a tangible reminder of the love that has grown and deepened between you and your husband since you first embarked on this journey together.

As you hold the camera in your hands, you're transported back to those special moments frozen in time. From romantic dinners to adventurous outings, each Polaroid is a testament to the bond you share and the memories you've created together.

You can't help but laugh softly as you descend the stairs, the shoebox cradled carefully in your arms. Entering the living room, you find your husband seated, still clad in his workout attire from his early morning gym session.

As you approach him, you place the box gently on his lap, causing him to look up at you with a puzzled expression, a crease forming in his eyebrows as he registers the unexpected gift.

"It was tucked away in the bedroom," you explain, intertwining your fingers with his. "I thought it would be nice to take a trip down memory lane together."

Feeling his warm lips pressing against the top of your head, you lean into his affectionate gesture, savoring the moment of closeness. As he opens up the box and pulls out the first Polaroid, a wave of nostalgia washes over you.

The image captures him back in 2013, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he holds a rose between his teeth.

You remember that day vividly, as if it were yesterday. It was your first Valentine's Day together, and he had surprised you with a romantic gesture that had left you speechless.

Seeing the Polaroid now, you can't help but smile at the memory of his playful antics and the joy it had brought you.

As he gazes at the photograph, a fond smile tugs at his lips.

"M’remember this," he murmurs, his voice laced with affection. "That was such a fun day."

The memory floods back, enveloping you in a cascade of emotions as you revisit that magical Valentine's Day four months into your relationship with Harry. You can still feel the nervous excitement fluttering in your chest as you try to persuade him to play along with your whimsical idea.

"Come on, H," you urge, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you hold out the single red rose. "It'll be hilarious! You'll look so macho with the rose between your teeth."

Harry's expression is a mixture of amusement and reluctance as he eyes the flower skeptically.

"I don't know, babe," he says, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "It feels a bit silly."

But you're determined to coax him into indulging your playful whim. Fluttering your eyelashes at him, you pout exaggeratedly, knowing full well the effect it has on him.

"Please, H," you plead, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. "It'll be our little Valentine's Day joke."

Unable to resist your charms, Harry finally relents with a chuckle, a reluctant smile playing on his lips.

"Alright, fine," he concedes, taking the rose from your hand and tentatively placing it between his teeth. "But if anyone sees us, I'm blaming you."

You can't help but giggle at his mock seriousness, feeling a rush of affection for the man who's willing to go along with your whimsical antics just to see you smile.

/ /

Back in the present moment, Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers delicately tracing the edges of the photograph. As he pulls it out, you feel a surge of anticipation, eager to revisit another cherished memory captured on Valentine's Day.

This time, the image transports you back to 2015, seated in a cozy restaurant with Harry across the table, his hand clasping yours tenderly.

You remember that evening vividly, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm ambiance as you savored each other's company over a romantic dinner. Harry's gaze, filled with love and adoration, never wavered from yours as you shared laughter, conversation, and stolen glances throughout the night.

As you study the Polaroid, the memory comes flooding back, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and affection. It's moments like these, captured in snapshots of time, that remind you of the depth of your connection and the beauty of your love story.

With a soft smile, Harry leans over and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, his touch a silent affirmation of the love that continues to blossom between you.

As you sit across from Harry in the cozy restaurant, the air thick with anticipation and love, you notice a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes.

Suddenly, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, causing your heart to skip a beat.

Your eyes widen in surprise as Harry's words hang in the air, his hesitant demeanor only adding to the gravity of the moment.

"I have something for you," he says softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and excitement.

With trembling hands, he opens the box, revealing a delicate piece of jewelry with what appears to have a key nestled within. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize the significance of his gesture, your heart pounding with anticipation.

But before you can fully process the contents of the box, Harry clears his throat nervously, his gaze locking with yours.

"I... I have something else to ask you," he begins, his voice slightly shaky. "Would you... would you like to move in with me?"

Tears shimmer in your eyes as you reach for Harry's hand across the table, squeezing it tightly in a silent affirmation of your love and devotion.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "Yes, Harry, I would love to move in with you."

/ /

Harry's laughter fills the room once more as he reminisces about that special evening. With a fond smile, he looks up at you, his eyes sparkling with affection.

"That was one of the nicest evenings we've shared together," he muses, his voice tinged with nostalgia.

You nod in agreement, feeling a rush of warmth flood your heart as you recall the joy and love that had enveloped you both on that unforgettable Valentine's Day.

It was a moment of pure bliss, a testament to the strength of your bond and the depth of your connection.

As you gaze at Harry, his laughter echoing in the room, you can't help but marvel at the journey you've embarked on together. Through the ups and downs, the laughter and tears, you've remained by each other's side, growing stronger with each passing day.

Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers brushing against the edges of the photograph with a tender reverence. As he pulls it out, you feel a rush of excitement, knowing that this snapshot holds yet another cherished memory from your shared Valentine's Day celebrations.

This time, the image transports you back to 2017, a year filled with love, laughter, and a furry addition to your family.

You remember the joyous moment vividly, the surprise etched on Harry's face as he laid eyes on the adorable puppy you had carefully chosen for him. It was a breed he had always admired, and seeing his eyes light up with delight was a gift in itself.

In the Polaroid, Harry's face is aglow with happiness as he lets the puppy kiss his cheek, his smile radiant and infectious. The bond between them is palpable, a testament to the love and companionship that would come to define their relationship over the years.

As Harry sat on the couch, oblivious to the surprise in store, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you walked into the room, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you held the squirming puppy in your arms.

"Hey, babe," you greeted Harry with a smile, trying to mask your excitement. "I have something for you."

Harry looked up from his book, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he watched you approach.

"What's that?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion.

With a dramatic flourish, you revealed the wriggling bundle of fur in your arms, watching as Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement any longer.

Harry's expression shifted from confusion to sheer delight as he took in the sight of the puppy, its tail wagging furiously as it sniffed the air in excitement.

"No way!" he exclaimed, his face breaking into a wide grin. "S’this for me?"

You nodded eagerly, your heart swelling with happiness at his reaction.

"Yes, it's for you," you confirmed, gently placing the puppy in his arms. "I know how much you've always wanted a dog, so I thought it was time we added a furry friend to our family."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he held the puppy close, his heart overflowing with gratitude and love.

"I can't believe you did this," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "This is the best Valentine's Day gift ever."

As you watched the scene unfold before you, the room filled with laughter and the sound of happy barks, you knew that this moment would be etched in your memory forever. It was a testament to the power of love and the joy of sharing life's precious moments with the ones you hold dear.

/ /

Harry's fingers gently stroke the fur of the large, but still beloved, dog nestled next to him. Pancake, now fully grown but forever a puppy at heart, looks up at Harry with adoring eyes, a silent reminder of the bond they share.

With a nostalgic smile, Harry recalls the early days when Pancake was just a tiny ball of fur, bounding around the house with endless energy and mischief.

"Remember when he was small enough to fit in the palm of my hand?" Harry muses, his voice tinged with fondness.

You nod, your own heart swelling with affection as you watch the pair interact.

"Those were some unforgettable times," you agree, your voice soft with reminiscence. "He's grown so much since then, but he'll always be our little Pancake."

With a sense of anticipation, Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his movements deliberate as he carefully selects the next snapshot to relive. As he pulls it out, your breath catches in your throat, anticipation building as you recognize the significance of the photograph.

This time, the image transports you back to a breathtaking sunset in Italy, a moment forever etched in your memory as the day Harry asked you to be his forever.

In the Polaroid, the radiant glow of the Italian sunset provides the perfect backdrop to the centerpiece of the image: your sparkling engagement ring, glimmering in the fading light. Memories flood back as you recall the magic of that evening, the air thick with anticipation as Harry led you to the terrace of your shared villa.

The setting sun cast a golden hue over the landscape, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink as you stood hand in hand with Harry, the world seemingly frozen in time. With trembling hands and a heart full of love, Harry dropped to one knee, his eyes shining with emotion as he poured his heart out to you in a heartfelt proposal.

The air is alive with the scent of Mediterranean flowers and the soft murmur of the evening breeze. Harry's hand clasps yours tightly, his gaze fixed on yours with unwavering intensity as he leads you to the edge of the terrace, where the sun dips below the horizon in a fiery display of color.

"Close your eyes," Harry whispers, his voice tinged with excitement as he guides you to a spot overlooking the rolling hills and the sparkling sea below. You comply, a smile playing on your lips as you anticipate the surprise Harry has in store.

A moment later, you feel his warm breath against your ear as he murmurs softly, "Okay, now open them."

As you open your eyes, the breathtaking sight before you takes your breath away. The sky is ablaze with hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the landscape as the sun sets in a magnificent display of natural beauty. Candlelit lanterns twinkle along the terrace, creating a romantic ambiance that sets your heart aflutter.

"It's beautiful," you breathe, turning to Harry with a look of wonder on your face.

Harry smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he takes your hand in his leading you further onto the terrace until you're bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun.

And then, with a suddenness that catches you off guard, Harry drops to one knee, his hand reaching into his pocket as he pulls out a small velvet box. Your heart leaps into your throat as you realize what's happening, your breath catching as Harry's eyes meet yours, filled with love and determination.

"From the moment I met you, I knew you were the one," Harry begins, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "You've brought so much joy and love into my life, and I can't imagine spending another day without you by my side."

As he speaks, Harry opens the box to reveal the dazzling engagement ring nestled within, its sparkle reflecting the light of the setting sun.

"Will you marry me?" he asks, his voice soft but resolute, his eyes never leaving yours as he waits for your answer.

/ /

Harry's voice breaks through your reverie, his words a tender reminder of the significance of that day.

"I still can't believe you said yes," he murmurs, his eyes reflecting the love and wonder he felt in that moment.

You reach for Harry's hand, squeezing it gently as you relive the joy and excitement of your engagement.

"It was the easiest 'yes' I've ever said," you reply, your voice filled with warmth and affection.

Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers tracing the edges of the photograph with a gentle reverence. As he pulls it out, his breath catches in his throat, a small gasp escaping his lips as he realizes the significance of the snapshot.

In the Polaroid, you and Harry stand side by side, radiant in your wedding attire, surrounded by the lush greenery of the church garden. The joy and love that radiate from the photograph are palpable, a testament to the happiness you both felt in that momentous occasion.

Harry's eyes linger on the image, a soft smile playing on his lips as he recalls the whirlwind of emotions that swept over him on your wedding day. It was a day filled with love, laughter, and promises of forever, a day you had both chosen to celebrate your love on Valentine's Day, the most romantic day of the year.

Little did you know at the time that Harry's best friend, Niall, had snapped the photograph, capturing the tender moment without either of you realizing it.

"M’can't believe it," Harry murmured, his voice filled with wonder as he gazed into your eyes, his own sparkling with love and adoration. "We're finally husband and wife."

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a rush of happiness wash over you as you took in the sight of your new husband, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun.

"I know," you replied, your voice tinged with excitement. "It still feels like a dream."

As you walked hand in hand through the garden, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of love and happiness. Each step felt like a dance, a celebration of your newfound union and the beginning of your shared journey as husband and wife.

"I love you," Harry whispered, his words a tender declaration of his devotion as he pulled you closer into his embrace. "I've never been happier than I am in this moment, with you by my side."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you leaned into Harry's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours.

"I love you too," you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion. "More than words can say."

/ /

With a tender smile, Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers tracing the edges of the photograph with a sense of reverence. As he pulls it out, he holds it close to his chest, his eyes shining with emotion as he gazes at the image. This, he declares, is one of his favorites so far.

In the Polaroid, Harry is fast asleep, his features softened in slumber as he lies peacefully in bed, unaware of the momentous news about to unfold. In the foreground, a pregnancy test rests on the bedside table, its result displayed prominently for the camera to capture.

You remember the moment vividly, the mix of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins as you prepared to share the life-changing news with Harry. With a trembling hand, you had set up the camera, carefully framing the shot to include both Harry and the pregnancy test, capturing the raw emotion of the moment for posterity.

You and Harry sat side by side under a blanket of stars, the soft glow of moonlight casting a romantic ambiance over the scene. With the night sky twinkling above you, you knew it was the perfect moment to share the life-changing news you had been keeping a secret.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you turned to Harry, your heart pounding in your chest as you mustered the courage to speak.

"Harry, there's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice barely above a whisper.

Harry turned to you, his eyes shining with curiosity and affection.

"What is it, love?" he asked, his hand reaching out to gently caress yours.

With a nervous flutter in your stomach, you took a deep breath before blurting out the words you had been rehearsing in your mind.

"I'm pregnant," you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion.

At first, Harry's expression registered disbelief, his eyes widening in shock as he processed your words.

"Really?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips as you reached into your pocket to retrieve the pregnancy test. Holding it out to Harry, you watched as his eyes flickered from the test to your face and back again, the realization slowly sinking in.

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he took the test from you, his hands trembling slightly as he examined the result. And then, as the truth of the moment washed over him, he broke into tears, his emotions overflowing as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

"M’going to be a daddy," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I can't believe it."

/ /

As Harry studies the photograph, a myriad of emotions flicker across his face, from surprise to joy to overwhelming love.

"I remember this," he murmurs, his voice soft with emotion. "I had no idea what was coming."

You reach out to grasp his hand, squeezing it gently as you relive the anticipation and excitement of that unforgettable moment.

"It was one of the happiest moments of my life," you confess, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you.

With a tender smile, Harry leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace.

"And it was the beginning of the greatest adventure of our lives," he whispers, his voice filled with love and gratitude.

And just like that your almost two year old made his presence known.

As Sebastian toddles into the room, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement from his playtime adventures in the toy room, a delighted squeal escapes his lips at the sight of his father. With a burst of energy, he throws himself onto Harry's lap, his tiny arms wrapping around his father's neck as he snuggles in close.

Harry chuckles warmly at Sebastian's exuberance, his heart swelling with love as he wraps his arms around his son in a tight embrace.

"Hey there, little buddy," he greets, his voice filled with affection as he ruffles Sebastian's curly hair, the same curls that match his own.

Sebastian giggles gleefully, his eyes sparkling with joy as he gazes up at his father. His attention is quickly drawn to the cross necklace dangling around Harry's neck, the delicate chain catching the light as it sways gently with his movements.

"Dada," Sebastian babbles, reaching out to touch the necklace with chubby fingers, his curiosity piqued by the shiny object.

Harry smiles down at his son, his heart swelling with pride at the sight of Sebastian's innocent fascination.

Sebastian's eyes widen with wonder as he continues to examine the necklace, his tiny fingers tracing the outline of the cross with gentle fascination.

"Pretty," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

Harry nods, a fond smile playing on his lips as he gazes down at his son.

"Yes, it is," he agrees, his heart overflowing with love for the precious little boy nestled in his arms.

As Sebastian sits in Harry's lap, giggling and playing with his father's necklace, you feel a pang of bittersweet nostalgia wash over you. Your little boy is growing up before your eyes, each day bringing new discoveries and adventures. You can't help but marvel at how quickly time seems to be slipping through your fingers.

Determined to capture this precious moment, you reach for the Polaroid camera resting on the nearby table. With a sense of urgency, you snap a photo of Harry and Sebastian, their smiles bright and their bond palpable. The sound of the camera's shutter clicking fills the room, freezing the moment in time for eternity.

As the photo develops before your eyes, you can't help but feel a swell of gratitude wash over you. This, you realize, is what life is all about—cherishing the fleeting moments of joy and love that make it all worthwhile.

With a gentle smile playing on your lips, you reach for the pen that lays on the coffee table, its sleek design catching the light as you pick it up. Gripping it firmly in your hand, you carefully write a special little message on the underneath of the Polaroid, a message of love and gratitude that you know will warm Harry's heart when he discovers it.

Once the message is complete, you place the Polaroid neatly back in the box, its presence a tangible reminder of the love and memories you've shared together on Valentine's Day. With a sense of satisfaction, you close the lid, knowing that this small gesture will hold a special place in Harry's heart for years to come.

Turning to Harry, who sits beside you with Sebastian in his lap, you snuggle into his warm embrace, reveling in the comfort and love that surrounds you.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion as you press a kiss to his cheek.

Harry's arms tighten around you, pulling you close as he murmurs softly,

"I love you both so much." His words are a tender declaration of his love, a reminder of the bond that binds you together as a family.

With another Polaroid security added to the box, your reloaded just how much you can’t wait to add even more photos as the years progress.

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