adoreyou303

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Sweet Creature (H.S. Fic)

A/N: Hey all! So so sorry for the delay in this update... so much has been going on. I’ve been working and there have been wildfires and what not... anyway... here is another chapter! I hope you all enjoy! Let me know what you think!!!

Chapter 7

CW: pregnancy, mentions of adoption

Light blues and pinks, and purples color the skies as the glowing sun sets behind wisps of white clouds. Instead of focusing on her music responsibilities, Melanie slowly sips on a strawberry lemonade. Her latest craving was any and everything strawberry. A fire crackles and burns in a glass fire pit in front of her. A cozy feeling sets in as her hand lazily traces along her belly. Softly, she begins humming through her strawberry-coated lips a melody. Grabbing a pen, she jots down some quick lyrics. A song, fleshed out with instruments and colorful stories, plays out in her mind. Instead of reaching for her phone to record or grabbing her guitar, she watches as the notes paint the sky above her. 

She can’t help but wonder if Harry has written any of his songs like this. It’s uncommon for him to go anywhere without his guitar, so he’s always finding excuses to play songs and strum out new melodies. In this moment of quiet, surrounded by sun and beautiful sky, she thinks of him. She remembers the first time he played his album for her. Sometimes, she’s not sure if she’s inspired or intimidated by him. Whatever it is, she wants to be closer to him. The twinkle in his eyes when he hears music… the crinkle near his eyes as he smiles. What is she thinking? Is this real or is she just hormonal? Once again, the sky fills with notes as her next song begins to take shape. 

With deadlines looming over his head, Harry’s fingers fly over the keyboard on his phone as he walks through the familiar hallways in the studio. Meetings, promo, and more promo have taken up most of the space in his mind, but if there is one thing he can rely on to take his mind off of things, it’s Mel. She texted him earlier begging him to meet her at the studio. Stuffing his phone in his pocket, he feels a tug in his chest as he hears her voice float through the door. It mingles with the soft strokes of a guitar. He doesn’t hear any other instruments, so he assumes she’s recording a track. Waiting for a break in the music, he closes his eyes and tips his head back, listening to her angelic voice. His eyes pop open as he catches a few of the lyrics. She’s singing about love… who is she singing about? Has she met someone? For the first time in a few months, Harry feels a sting in his chest that he can’t quite shake. Grabbing the door handle, he softly opens the door and steps through. 

The second he lays eyes on her, all negative feelings had before vanished. Dressed in a shirt two-sizes too big and a pair of navy sweatpants, he doesn’t think he has ever seen her look so perfect. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun with a few stray strands framing her face. Her eyes are brilliant, shining brighter than ever. His mouth hangs slightly agape as he listens to her finish recording her take. 

“Harry!” she squeals, placing her guitar on the stand. She rips the headphones off and signals him to come in. As soon as he steps foot in the booth, she flings herself at Harry. 

“Hi, love,” he chuckles, holding her close. He can feel the little swell of her belly against his torso. He wants nothing more than to run his hands over it and talk to it, but he has to remind himself they are in public. Even more so, they aren’t together. He shouldn’t overstep. 

“Did you hear it?” she asks, pulling away, but still holding tight to his forearms. 

“The song? I only heard a little. Did you get some inspiration?” he asks, a smile playing on his lips.

“Oh, I think so,” she teases, tapping her fingers against his skin. 

“Alright, let’s hear it then.” 

Harry bobs his head to the music, pinching his lower lip between his index finger and thumb. As the song comes to an end, Melanie nervously looks toward her best friend for any type of response. 

“Well?” she questions. He stands up and engulfs her in a hug. 

“You’re incredible. I love it,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her head. This sent a shock through her heart. 

“I’m so glad you love it, but you know what I would love even more?” she blinks up at him. 

“What can I get you now?” he sighs. Externally, he plays annoyed, but he would do anything for Melanie. He would never get tired of fetching her things. 

“Strawberries and peanut butter,” she says, turning back towards her guitar.

“Strawberries and peanut butter? Together?” he asks.

“You can bring them separate,” she shrugs. 

“Whatever you want, darling,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll be back.” 

Melanie continues recording, tweaking and retouching her song. When Harry returns, there are more people in the studio. He can tell Melanie’s is on edge by the way she squeezes her eyes shut, lashes disappearing beneath her eyelids. Between recording sessions, Harry lets himself into the booth with her snack. 

“Alright?” he asks, handing her the bag. 

“Yeah, just a little nervous,” she answers, gesturing towards the glass separating them from the rest of the team. “I’ll be better once I eat these bad boys.” 

He watches with slight disgust as she dips the sweet fruit into the sticky substance. 

“How could you do that to such a superior fruit?” he questions. 

“Mmm, this… these hit the spot,” she moans, gobbling down her snack. Shaking his head with a stupid smile on his face, he walks back out to listen to her finish up the session. 

Harry makes conversation with the sound technicians and others on Mel’s team while she continues to eat. 

“Is she eating peanut butter and strawberries?” Jonah, Mel’s sound tech, asks, confused. 

“Yes, she is,” Harry confirms. A pit forms in his stomach, hoping they wouldn’t press any further.

“Yesterday she was drinking a strawberry milkshake with chocolate mint patties,” Mike, another sound tech, chimes in. 

“That is definitely not that weird. I’ve had worse when I was in Jamaica,” Harry chuckles, remembering the severe case of munchies when Mitch offered him a few too many mushrooms at once. He pushes the memory away, keeping track of the conversation and chiming in when he needs to. She definitely can’t keep it a secret much longer. 

At the end of a long studio session, Harry wraps her jacket around her shoulders. 

“How’re you feeling lately?” he asks gently, eyeing her for any kind of reaction.

“Not bad,” she replies, tugging her coat closer to her body. Scanning around for any extra ears, Harry pulls her close. So close, he can smell the faint scent of strawberries and peanut butter mixing with her natural scent. 

“They’re noticing,” he says quietly. He feels her stiffen beneath his touch. Her eyes fall toward her stomach then the ground. 

“Did someone say something?” she asks, suddenly feeling panic rise in her throat. 

“They were commenting on your recent choice of snacks.”

“What does that have to do with anything? People eat weird things all the time,” she snaps. Taken aback by her sudden shift in mood, Harry raises his hands in defeat. 

“I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to look out for me. I appreciate it,” she murmurs, brushing a few stray hairs away from his face. His hands subconsciously find her hips, rubbing slow, soothing circles. Letting go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding, she relaxes into his touch. 

“How can I help?” he murmurs against her hair. Together, they hold each other in silence. A soft swaying causes her too-big shirt to ruffle against her skin. His large hands slowly make their way underneath her shirt, resting on the skin of her lower back. She could almost cry with relief the pressure his warm hands bring to her aching back. He notices the way her breath hitches as he kneads his fingers across the tense muscles, focusing particularly on spots that leave her melting further into his chest. 

“Dinner?” she suggests.

“Let’s go then.” But, neither one of them are keen on moving. They are just fine where they are, in each other’s arms. Eventually, Melanie pulls away, cheeks burning and eyes cast downward. They walk toward the door, hands intertwined, swinging with childlike innocence. 

“Have you thought of any names?” Harry asks, trying to break the silence. 

“No, why would I?” she shrugs. 

“You can’t just refer to them as ‘it’ forever. You have to call it something.”

“Whoever adopts him or her will give them a name,” she says quietly.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t give them your own name, if you want.”

“I don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl,” she sighs, dropping her friend’s hand to open the door. 

“How ‘bout Peanut, then?”

“Peanut? You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, come on. You eat peanut butter like your life depends on it. I think it’s safe to say your child will love peanuts,” he laughs, ruffling her hair. 

“What do you think? Are you a little Peanut?” she asks her belly, still hidden by an abundance of fabric. “I think the answer is Thai food.”

“Peanut it is,” Harry rolls his eyes, mentally reminding himself of her favorite Thai dish, peanut chicken. 

The two continue to walk, hand in hand, discussing their dinner plans while Jeff shuts off the lights in his office for the night. He sees Mel and Harry about to walk out the double doors when he overhears a part of conversation he was perhaps not meant to hear. He watches Harry pull the young, up and coming star into his side and press a kiss to her head. It’s well known that Harry is an affectionate person, especially toward Melanie, but something seems different. He seems more protective, more loving, more attached. What is going on between the two? Have they started dating? Different bets were placed as soon as Mel and Harry started working together, but it’s unlike the two to not communicate. Especially Harry, who is very vocal about emotional and mental health. Jeff leaves the studio that night with a strange sense of determination to figure out what’s going on with his client and the girl he views as his own daughter. 

The following day, Jeff calls for an all-teams session to hear progress on both Melanie and Harry’s tracks. They’ve presented different things, but he wants the teams to hear the songs. It always helps to have extra ears. At least, that’s what Jeff said was going on. He was actually going to try to find out what the hell is going on with Mel and Harry. 

After everyone is in the studio, Jeff calls everyone’s attention.

“Thank you for coming in on short notice. I appreciate you all. There’s actually been a change of plans. Instead of playing songs, I want to talk. As you all know, Sarah and Mitch announced exciting news at our company dinner. We’re pleased for you both, but I think there is something more pressing on our minds right now.” At this, he turns his gaze to Melanie. Hot under his stare, she shifts uncomfortably, looking for some type of reassurance from Harry. He nudges her knee with his, but keeps his hands knotted in his lap. “Mel, what’s going on? You’ve fainted at a concert, you’re barely keeping up with your deadlines, which is unlike you… Are you sick? Please, just tell us. We want to help,” Jeff pleads. 

For a second, Jeff feels a pang of guilt ripple through his chest. He isn’t her dad nor her manager. She isn’t obligated to tell him anything. All is silent in the room while thoughts churn in Melanie’s mind. Harry’s head slowly turns towards her. 

“I’m pregnant,” she whispers.

“Sorry?” Jeff questions, hoping he heard her incorrectly.

“I know you heard me,” she mumbles. Pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands and taking a deep breath, she stands on shaky legs. Harry reaches up to steady her, but she pushes his hands away. 

“The reason I’ve been… well, the way I’ve been is because I’m pregnant,” she announces, nervously fiddling with the strings of her hoodie. She avoids the looks of confusion slowly turning to looks of sympathy and horror. A sudden sniffle pulls her out of her trance. When she looks up, she sees Sarah trying to hide a cascade of tears falling from her eyes. She mutters a soft “excuse me,” to the person next to her before rushing from the room. Heads turn as they watch Mitch follow after his girl. Melanie quickly turns her head back to meet Harry’s confused eyes. What has she done?

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles pregnancy #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #hs fandom #HS fic #hs writing #SWEET CREATURE

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#this gif set will never get old #he's so soft and cute

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I love Sweet Creature so much! You are an amazing writer! ❤

omg- thank you so much 🥺 i wasn't sure if I wanted to put this fic out there, but I've been getting really great response to it! I'm so glad you like it!!

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Sweet Creature (H.S. Fic)

CW: Pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

Chapter Six

Sharp, short knocks echo through the dark hotel room. She groans out of frustration, rolling over and pulling a pillow over her head. After a fitful night of sleep, the last thing she needs, nay wants, is someone pulling her back to reality. She would rather stay in her cocoon of blankets and pillows where her aching body is supported by a mountain of fluff and fuzz. 

Once again, the knocks ring through the room, signaling her again of someone’s presence at her door. If it’s important, they will let themselves in… she thinks. A familiar beep sounds before the click of the door lets in a sudden rush of light from the hallway.

“Lucky I have a key to your room,” Harry chuckles, quietly closing the door.

“Whatever would I do without you,” she mutters sarcastically. 

“How’re you feeling, love?” he murmurs, sitting at the foot of the bed. He places his hand on her foot and squeezes gently. She throws the pillow off of her head and looks at him through squinted eyes. Dark circles outline the skin below her eyes. Her eyes are stormy blue, darker than he’s ever seen. The tip of her nose is pink, standing out from the pale translucency of her face. She’s cuter than a button, even when she feels like she’s been hit by a bus. 

“I felt so sick, I barely slept,” she admits, closing her eyes. She feels the weight at the end of the bed lift and for a moment, she feels white hot whips of panic roar through her chest. Did she scare him away? Is this what finally makes him leave? 

Before she can think of any more worst case scenarios, the bed dips again, but this time, it’s much closer to her body. 

“Oh, Mel. Have you thought about saying something? Your team could help you when you don’t feel well. I don’t want a repeat of last night. I barely convinced them you were just tired,” he sighs.

“What if they make me stop doing all of this? Or make me go home? I can’t do this alone,” she whispers, slowly reaching out towards Harry. His eyes search her face worriedly until their eyes meet. The eyes are the beholder of true feelings. They say everything without uttering a word. Harry’s never felt more connected to a single soul. There is no tension or awkward feelings. There’s a comfortable silence as they both drink in each other’s presence. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promises, holding his hand out, allowing her to weave her fingers through his. 

“Can I-”

“Will-”

Both stop midsetence, cheeks flushed at the mutual interruption. “You go, love.”

“No, you started first,” she insists. 

“I was just going to ask if I could hold you,” he asks sheepishly, feeling heat creep up the back of his neck. No one has ever held this much power over him. Usually he is the one making others flushed. He’s not used to someone making him feel this way. Instinctively, his other hand reaches up to scratch at his neck. Nervous tick. 

Instead of answering, she nuzzles her head closer, immediately inhaling his intoxicating scent. She releases their intertwined hands and wraps her arm around his torso. “Do believe you were going to say something,” he reminds her. 

“No need. It seems you happen to have read my mind,” she hums, tucking her face into the safety of his chest. He takes the moment to breathe her in. The smell of her shampoo is emintating off her hair in gentle waves. A faint trace of her favorite chapstick still lingers on her lips. Deep, glittering purple swatches of nail lacquer expertly decorate her nails, executenating her devine hands. And, no matter what time of day, she always smelled of something sweet. Call it what you will-- a sweet tooth, a lack of self control, but Melanie loves her chocolate and will go to the lengths of the end of the Earth to make sure she gets it. Something sweet for someone sweet. 

“How would I tell people?” she questions, pulling her head from it’s safe burrow in Harry’s chest.

“Well, that’s up to you. It doesn’t have to be all fancy like you see in the movies or anything. I reckon you could call a meeting or summat?” he suggests.

“That’s… too formal and rigid,” she rejects. He hums in response, lost in thought. 

“There is that label dinner next week. ’re all expected to be there. Would you consider doing it then? I know ’s in public and all, but-”

“H, that’s perfect,” she beams, reaching up and grabbing his face between her two hands. There is a deep ache in his chest, a pull at his heart. He isn’t sure if it’s because of the nickname and the sudden contact of the girl of his dreams or if he’s elated to see his best friend happy after seeing her struggle for so long.

“Really?” he smiles. “What makes you say that?” 

“We’re supposed to be discussing our upcoming projects. It can be treated like… I don’t know, a new beginning or such. You keep going on about support and what not, so why not start in a positive place? I don’t want it to be in a record label boardroom with contracts and attorneys fussing over details. It would be more like… friends finding out news. Right?” she ponders, her voice wavering slightly.

“You’re brilliant, love. I was thinking if it didn’t go well you could just fill up on pasta and breadsticks, but you really blew me out of the water on this one, didn’t yeh?” he chuckles, pressing a hand to the back of her head. 

This movement sends a thousand tingles down her spine. His thumb gently caresses the nape of her neck, slowly and softly swiping back and forth every so often. Almost as if to remind her he’s still there, he still has her. 

The next week passes way too slow for Melanie’s liking. She tries to distract herself with recording and writing, but anxiety about sharing the news swells in her chest. That isn’t the only thing swelling, either Her ankles have grown twice in size and she can no longer fit into her favorite pair of jeans. She isn’t huge, but she’s growing. Fortunately, the change hasn’t been noticeable by too many. The focus has mainly been on Harry promoting his new single. He’s been away doing various promotions, so the team has paid Melanie less and less attention. Once he returns, though, it’ll be back to the spotlight with their currently underwraps collab album. 

She has no doubt the second Harry lays his eyes on her, he will notice the changes in her body. Unsure of how his attention on a body that is quickly becoming not her own will make her feel, she soaks in all the non-attention as much as she can. 

As she prepares for the company dinner, her mind races with various scenarios of how the evening could possibly play out. She could get fired… she could be told off… her friends could leave her… they could laugh at her… anything could happen. She slips a light blue dress over her hand, letting it slide down over the rest of her body. She has to shimmy, pulling it down with more umph than usual. Her butt has also joined the swelling party. 

A soft knock at the door pulls her from her harsh gaze in the mirror. 

“Who is it?” she asks curtly. The driver isn’t supposed to be at hers for another 15 minutes.

“‘S me, love. Thought you might fancy a cuddle before dinner?” She could practically hear his smirk through the door.

“It’s open, Harry,” she calls, walking back into the bathroom to grab her earrings. Pushing through the door, he is hit with the scent of home. Fresh cookies. Vanilla. Faint Citrus. Her. He feels as though a permanent smile has been etched on his face as he places his bags on the floor near the door.

“Where are you, love?” 

“Bathroom, be out in a sec,” she responds. After placing her jewelry in the right places, she takes one last look in the mirror. She sighs a breath of relief, fixing her hair yet again. Satisfied. 

She returns to her bedroom to find a familiar face sitting on the edge of her bed. The mere sight of him makes her feel as though there is no air left in her lungs. His ring-clad fingers are sat upon loose fitting light teal trousers. One hand runs through his curly locks, bringing her eyes up to his torso, snuggly tucked in a matching dress shirt with the top buttons undone. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, allowing for his tattoos to dance freely on the toned muscles of his forearms. If she wasn’t staring before, she was now. 

“You look gorgeous,” he smiles, standing up for a hug. 

“You clean up pretty nice yourself,” she covers, avoiding his piercing stare. Allowing herself to fall into his embrace, she remembers back to the times he’s complimented her appearance. She’s never doubted his sincerity, but why did it feel so different now? 

“I, um, need help with my dress. Would you mind?” she asks, pointing toward the back. He gives her a quick kiss on the check before reaching up to her shoulders to turn her around. His gaze falls to admire her dress when suddenly he flinches and pulls away as if she was the most repugnant thing he’s ever seen. 

“What??” she exclaims, looking over herself to see if she had some sort of anomaly or something to cause alarm. 

“Melanie, love, you’re showing,” he whispers, his eyes trained on her belly. Her gaze follows down to her stomach and back up to his face, whether their eyes meet. 

“I-I am,” she says, almost as though she’s trying to convince herself. Harry’s hands reach up to cradle her face.

“This is incredible. Can I?” he asks, breathless. Unsure of what he’s doing, but not wanting him to stop, she nods furiously. His hands drop to her sides, thumbs rubbing gently over the taut skin of her belly. “When did this happen?”

“I’m not sure, maybe a few days ago?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not exactly something to be… excited about,” she sighs, averting her gaze.

 “C’mere.” 

He brings her around to her floor-length mirror and pulls her in front of him. Instead of zipping her up, he pushes her straps down. 

“Harry, I-”

“I promise ‘m not going to hurt you. Let me show you something.” 

The dress slowly comes off her figure, leaving her only in her bra and panties. His large hands rest on the outer sides of her thighs. His eyes meet hers in the mirror. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes brimming with tears.

“Do you know what I see?” he questions in hushed tones. She shakes her head, instinctively retreating into his chest. “I see a beautiful, glowing woman who is growing a child. Her child. She’s the strongest person I know. Smartest, too, I reckon. She could beat my ass any day,” he snickers. This earns a small laugh from the girl in his arms. His heart gleams with pride and love as he sees her stand a little taller. He raises a hand from her thigh, trailing his fingers along her sun kissed skin, and places it on her belly. Her little swollen belly. Gently, his other hand follows until both his hands are embracing her, holding both Melanie and her baby. After a few minutes, her hands wiggle free from his embrace. She gently rests them on his large ones atop her little baby belly. She relaxes back into his chest, letting her fears melt away.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, squeezing his hands. He nudges his nose into her cheek with a soft smile. 

“Now, let’s get you dressed, yeah? Can’t take you to dinner in your knickers.”

Melanie can’t lie, dinner with friends is exactly what she needed. Although it is technically a company dinner, she loves everyone she works with. Laughter and fun stories pass the time so quickly, she almost forgets she has to break life changing news. So much so, it isn’t until Jeff mentions the collab album that she breaks into a nervous sweat. Almost as if on cue, Harry places a calming hand on her knee, talking cooly about plans he had thought up on his recent promo trip. 

“Actually, if I might chime in,” Mitch interrupts, eyes darting between dinner guests. Mitch has been with Harry since he went solo, so his word is just as important as Harry’s. Everyone’s attention turns towards the guitarist as he pushes his chair to stand. “I think this collab album is a great idea. It could really showcase both Mel and Harry’s strengths and teach them a lot about each other as artists.”

He pauses as he walks around the table, nervously pulling at his black velvet blazer. “However, I don’t think the timing of this is… ideal.”

Melanie gulps and she swears the whole table could hear it. Her frantic eyes meet Harry’s, who looks just plain confused. There is no way he knows… could he?

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m all in favor of this project. Here’s my issue.” Here it comes… I’m ruined. “When I started working for this company, for Harry, I only had myself to think about. I could drop everything and go to studio and write for hours on end. Hell, Styles dragged me to Jamaica at a minute’s notice. Well, I can safely say that is no longer the case. I’m not on my own anymore and I don’t want to be ever again,” he says softly, training his eyes on Sarah. Her mouth drops, clearly not expecting his speech. “Sarah, you took my breath away the moment I saw you. Somehow you manage to bring me out of my shell and make me unafraid. I never want to imagine what it would be like without you practicing drums at the worst hours or praising my cooking even though, darling, we both know it belongs in the bin,” he admits, a water chuckle escaping his lips. Tears are fully dripping down Sarah’s cheeks as the realization sinks in. “I loved you when you rejected my first attempt to ask you out and I love you now. I will love you always. Please, darling, will you marry me?” he asks, bending on one knee, gently grasping her hand in his. 

The whole table is dabbing tears away from their eyes as they take in the scene in front of them. Melanie sheds a few tears herself, but promptly feels a kick to the gut, like the wind has been taken out of her sail. 

“Yes, yes, I will,” Sarah finally answers, fully crying. Mitch slips the ring on her finger before engulfing her in a full embrace. There is a full uproar of cheers and congratulations from the party, but Melanie just feels sick. She joins her friends in happily (and tearily) congratulating Mitch and Sarah before quietly excusing herself from dinner. This wasn’t her moment. Not yet. 

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writings #harry styles fandom #harry styles fluff #hs fandom #hs fic #hs writing #sweet creature #chapter 6 #harry styles pregnancy

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uhhuh

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God I love Sitcoms [32/?]

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harry styles photographed by mary mccartney for the sunday times magazine, 2017

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+

#im too weak for this

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dimples and eye crinkles ☺️💗

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#a goofball #my fav outfit

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Sweet Creature (H.S. Fic)

CW: fainting

Chapter Five

Nothing compares to your first time. Your first kiss. Your first shower after a week camping. Your first broken bone. Your first time back after a traumatic experience. She expects an intense rush of emotion, especially considering the secret nestled in her midsection; however, once she walks through the doors of the arena, she feels mildly… flat. 

Soundcheck feels painfully like going through the motions, and all she wants to do is get it over with. There is nothing worse than feeling like the thing you once loved has turned into a chore. And, either the intense heat of the stage lights or the being currently leaching off of her body’s nutrients is causing intense dizziness that she can’t shake off. Fortunately, she has the mic stand to cling onto, helping to hold her upright. When she feels like she just about can’t take it anymore, she hears a familiar voice on the area floor. Cupping her hand over her eyes to try to make out the figures, she speaks into her mic.

“Is that Harry? Can you send him up here?” she pleads, just a little too desperate. She pulls at her in-ear monitors, still grasping the stand in case her body decides to give out on her. 

“Mel? You alright?” Harry inquires, practically shoving a water bottle into her hand. She nods her head yes, but flashes him a look of panic. “Why don’t we go have a sit in the dressing room, yeah?” 

Not waiting for an answer, he wraps his arm around her, taking nearly all her weight. The draining color of her face alerts him that something isn’t right. When had she last eaten? Did something trigger her? Is it the baby? No one knew about the last part, so he couldn’t say anything just yet. He had to be absolutely sure if he was going to speak up. 

When they reached the dressing room, Harry gently set her on the couch. He brought the water bottle up to her lips, which she gratefully accepted. 

“Alright?” he asked softly. She nodded, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Are you going to be able to do the show tonight?” 

“I think so. I think I just got a little overwhelmed, being back in an arena and all,” she lies, reaching out to hold the water bottle. She wants to tell him that every cell in her body hurts and all she wants to do is take a bubble bath then crawl into bed while wearing her comfiest PJs, but she has a job to do. 

“I’ll be out there with you. You remember what to do if you need to stop?” 

She showed the hand signal they came up with, which universally meant to everyone to continue playing until whoever needs to get off is off safely. 

Harry stays with Melanie right up until she is needed on stage. It’s only once she’s up there safely that he goes to change into his own outfit.

Before he turns to walk toward his dressing room, he takes in the sight before him. She’s gleaming in the lights. Guitar strapped to her chest, her eyes closed as if the music was leading her home. She makes it look easy, the way her fingers fly over the strings and frets like they were made to do it. A smile dances on his lips as he watches her get closer to the mic in a passionate swell of the bridge to the chorus. He remembers the first time he saw her lipstick-stained microphone. He teased her relentlessly for how close she got to the mic that her lip products transferred onto the stainless steel. A rose tint crept its way up her cheeks every time she put the finishing touches on her makeup. What color was going to embrace the microphone tonight? When was it going to be his turn? 

All was going well- or so it seemed. She enjoys her job, really. What she didn’t realize, however, was how intense it would be with the new addition to her body. She apologizes to her fans, citing a sleepless night for her unusual lack of energy. They pay it no mind, screaming for both her and Harry, shouting lyrics, and giving all the love to their band. Really, she couldn’t be more grateful. 

Under the sweltering lights, Melanie feels beads of sweat prickling at the back of her neck. Her chest tightens with every breath she is able to huff out. Somewhere between Mitch’s guitar solo and a dreamy duet with Harry, her hands began to shake. The shaking begins to intensify as the heat in her body rises. What’s worse, no amount of water she consumes seems to quench her thirst or settle the heat radiating from her body. 

Desperately trying to catch Harry’s attention, she turns towards him, back facing the audience. He’s too busy entertaining the crowd to notice she’s signaling the band to stop. Sarah and Mitch notice right away, watching with worried eyes as she continues to hold the signal waiting for everyone to notice. When it’s clear he isn’t going to notice in time, Sarah and Mitch take over, changing the set to help cover. 

Harry whips around to question why his band just skipped a chunk of songs, but instead, he notices Melanie inching further and further from the front of the stage. Her skin, usually flushed under the lights, is oddly grey. Her eyes are wide and distant, as if she was looking through him. He takes a second to get a look at her, taking in as much as he can before something in him screams this isn’t right. 

He pulls his mic stand upright and starts walking over to her, mouthing “You okay?” over the music. Instead of an answer, her knees buckle, her body collapsing. He crosses the stage faster than ever, catching her in his arms before her head hits the hard stage. Gasps and murmurs fill the arena along with the sound of shutters and the flashes of cameras. But that didn’t matter to him. All he could focus on was her and the way her eyes flutter underneath her eyelids. 

“Come on, Melanie. Wake up, wake up,” he chants, lightly tapping her cheeks. All kinds of people rush out to help, surrounding the two from any kind of pictures or video. 

“We should move her. It’ll be safer to have her backstage,” one stage crew member suggested, gesturing to the crowd behind him.

“We aren’t moving her until she wakes up,” Harry growls, pushing the hair out of her face. He didn’t mean to be rude. He is always kind to everyone helping backstage. At this moment, he just feels frightened, like someone is going to take away his best friend. The person he loves. He feels the need to protect her right here, right now. Always.

“Harry?” she whispers, her eyes blinking rapidly trying to focus.

“Hey, love. How’re you feeling? You alright?”

“What? What happened?” she questions, her voice weak and tired.

“You fainted. You’re okay now.”

“What? In the middle of the concert??” she starts, her eyes getting big. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” 

Harry stays with Melanie until she is more alert and ready to stand. Ushers at the venue shut down the concert and lead most ticket holders out of the arena. There would be no continuing the concert. 

“They won’t be mad at you, Mel. They literally saw you faint. It’s not like you decided to go on vacation and not refund their tickets,” Harry sighed, rubbing her calf gently. 

“I can’t do my job anymore,” she voices, her throat tight with tears. 

“You can, love. It’s just a matter of figuring out your new boundaries. This was your first show back. You’ll get the hang of it, promise,” he whispers, placing a gentle kiss to the smooth skin of her leg. The simple gesture sent her heart into a frenzy. She didn’t know if he meant it platonically or if he knew how much his touch drove her crazy, but if she could stay here with him in this moment forever, she would be happy.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writings #harry styles fandom #harry styles fluff #hs fandom #hs fic #hs writing #sweet creature #chapter 5

[adoreyou303]

Sweet Creature (H.S. Fic)

CW: Pregnancy

Chapter 4

“Good morning! I’m Dr. Little. I hear you got recommended by Dr. Rameriz. We went to medical school together,” the young OB-GYN greets. Melanie nods, taking a deep breath. “Right, so she did give me background regarding your pregnancy. Have you come to any decisions? Is there anything you want to talk about?”

Unlike the last visit to the doctor, she sits alone in the examination room. With her legs crossed at the ankles and dangling a couple inches above the step, she runs a shaky hand through her hair before opening her mouth to speak.

“I… I want to continue with the pregnancy.” 

Dr. Little nods her head with a kind smile, staying quiet. 

“You said you knew the history?”

“Yes, Dr. Rameriz sent me your file and we had a brief conversation. Is there anything you’d like to add?”

“No. I just… Is it okay for me to do this? I mean, is it too stressful for the baby to have its mom having trauma?”

“Oh, honey. I know exactly what you mean. From all your tests, you are a healthy young woman. As long as you take it easy through your pregnancy, eat well, and exercise regularly, there is no reason you can’t have a healthy and happy baby,” she consoles.

“W-what if I don’t want it?” she asks, ashamed. 

“Would you like to talk about options for termination?”

“No, I mean… what if I don’t want to keep it once it’s born? Does that make me a bad mom?”

“ If you choose to give this baby to another loving family, that’s okay. There are thousands of couples who struggle with infertility who dream of a baby. You could make that dream come true. I’m not a lawyer, but I know there are different options for adoption. It’s possible to still be part of your child’s life even if you don’t keep it. Your job right now is to grow this little human and my job is to take care of you while you do so. Okay?” 

“Okay,” she breathes, a small smile forming on her lips. 

Holding the newest scan close to her chest, Melanie carefully pokes her head through the door of the studio. Her heart beats quickly, anticipating a mess of questions after she shares the news. She wishes she brought Harry with her. She could do with the warmth and comfort of his hand around her shoulder or even a sarcastic retort from his cherry-tinted lips.

         Soft guitar strums mingle with the bass and drums to build a beautiful, unique melody. The only piece missing was his voice. She suspects he is hard at work, finishing up the instrumentals before he can even start to think about vocals. She imagines a deep crease between his brows, his teeth sinking deep into his lower lip. The more she thinks about interrupting his studio session, the more anxious she becomes. It’s now or never.

         She taps on the glass in front of her, signaling Mitch of her arrival. He gives her a thumbs up, pointing to the door. Looking down one last time, she takes a deep breath before pulling the door open. Heads turn at her appearance, but the music continues to float throughout the room. She smiles softly at no one in particular, feeling slightly relieved she didn’t cause too much disruption. Her eyes land on him- a messy bun thrown at the top of his head, the sleeves of his hoodie pushed up to his elbows, guitar pick resting between his teeth as he scribbles in his journal. And just for a moment, she feels at peace. She could watch him in his element forever. His eyes catch hers momentarily, doing a near double take at her presence. She has a smile on her face. A real smile.

         “Hi,” he breathes, dropping his pen and guitar pick on the table, instinctively pulling his guitar closer. Suddenly, he feels shy. Almost as if this is the first time they’re meeting, and he wants to make the perfect first impression. Slowly, she pads over to him, gripping the piece of paper tightly in her fingers. As she gets closer, his eyes wander to her hands. He removes his guitar from his shoulders, making room for her.

         “Whaddya got there?” he asks, gleaming with curiosity. She nudges her way between his legs. Instead of sitting on his lap, she sits on the floor between his legs. Looking up at him with wide doe eyes, she nervously hands him the scan. He flips it over, running his fingers around the black and white image. “Is this… from today?”

         She nods and takes a deep breath, folding her hands in her lap.

“ImgoingtohavethebabybutIdontknowifIwanttokeepit,” she blurts all in one breath.

         “Whoa, slow down, love. I don’t think I managed to catch any of that,” he chuckles, placing the image on his lap and reaching for her hands. She sighs and tries again.

         “I had an appointment today. I decided I want to have the baby, but I just, don’t… know if I want to keep it,” she admits, keeping her head low.

         “Hey, look at me,” he beckons, cradling her jaw with his palm. “I am so proud of you, Melanie. That was a big decision to make. We can always talk with someone about options. There is nothing wrong with that.”

         “Really?” she questions, her eyes welling.

         “Of course. It does not make you any less of a mother or a bad one. You’re doing what is right for you and your little one. Like I said, I’m going to be here with you no matter what you decide to do,” he reassures, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

         “I have to start telling people,” she mumbles, resting her head on their intertwined hands.

         “What do you mean? Isn’t it standard to wait to tell until you’re further along?” he asks, scrunching his brows, confused.

         “Yeah, for friends and family. I have to tell my management and people who will be around me regularly. We have to be able to handle pictures or stories that the media try to run. Oh, god… the media. I didn’t even think,” she whispers, her eyes wide with terror.

         “It’s okay. We’ll make sure everything is handled. Who do you want to tell first?”

         “I don’t know. What if it’s bad?” she worries.

         “It won’t be bad, love. We’re all going to be here to support you, just like we were after your attack. No one will know to help if you don’t tell what’s going on. You can decide how much or how little you want them involved, okay? You’re in control,” he nods, ducking down to meet her eyes. Slowly, she nods in agreement. “Together?”

“Together.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fandom #harry styles writings #harry styles fluff #hs fandom #hs fic #hs writing #sweet creature #chapter 4

[adoreyou303]

Sweet Creature (H.S. Fic)

(CW:  mentions of vomiting, pregnancy, and lots of fluff!)

Chapter 3

In the weeks following the attack, she’s been different. There is no question about why, but when her physical state starts to change, Harry’s attention is particularly piqued. Even though she seemed to be on the path to recovery from her trauma, she’s suddenly back to feeling tired, nauseous, and moody. These were all typical symptoms she struggled with in the throes of her PTSD in the first couple weeks after her assault; however, they began to lessen once she started therapy. 

Harry watches her closely as she tries to rehearse her newest single, Misplaced. He can tell something is causing her discomfort, but it isn’t until she throws the guitar strap off her shoulder and runs out of the room that he realizes something else is going on. He is quick to follow down the hall, watching as she flings herself into the nearest room. Hot on her heels, he presses a palm to the door to stop it from closing. He catches a glimpse of her falling to her knees, hugging a trash can close to her chest, gagging violently. 

“Love, why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” he asks, crouching behind her. He runs his fingers through her slightly sweaty hair, pulling it into a loose ponytail. “Sit back a little. Catch your breath.” 

She slumps back into his chest, thankful his body is there to catch her. Taking some slow breaths, she tries to conjure an excuse to give Harry about why she didn’t tell him of the sickly feeling she’s felt lately. Before she gets the chance, she feels her stomach turn again. 

“Again?” he questions, letting go of her as she reaches for the trash can. Nodding quickly, she tries to scoot further away from Harry, feeling embarrassed for being seen this way. She doesn’t get far before his warm hands find a place on her back. 

“Okay?” he murmurs, rubbing her arms soothingly. Breathing quickly, but finally feeling better, she hums softly. She lays on the ground next to Harry, who runs his fingers through her hair. “What’s going on, love? You haven’t been well at all. I’m worried about you.”

“I think I’m just overtired.”

“Whenever you’re not here you’re sleeping. Are you sure? Maybe you should see the doctor,” he presses, his fingers gently caressing her face. She takes a moment to think back to her routine lately. She has been sleeping a lot, but no matter how much she sleeps, she is always tired. 

“I guess getting a check up wouldn’t hurt,” she shrugs, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch. He nods with a small smile, feeling encouraged she is willing to get help. 

The doctor’s office no longer feels like a place of help. Rather, it’s a place of triggers and trauma. The smell of wipes remind her of stitches in the most painful places. The lights above give way to uncomfortable memories staring at the ceiling waiting for scans, doctors, or investigators. The beeps, alarms, and hissing of machines that provide solace for families who rely on the steady sounds for reassurance of their loved ones brings feelings of anxiety, heightened nerves, and moistened hands knowing at any time it can alert the whole floor to her next panic attack. 

She clutches Harry’s hand tightly as they wait in the small, underdecorated waiting room. Her leg bounces quickly as her mind wanders aimlessly. With his other hand, Harry reaches over and settles her leg. 

“It’s okay, love. It’s a simple check up. In and out, then we can go home and you can rest,” he reassures. She nods nervously, her eyes never leaving the door. As soon as it opens, she bolts out of her chair towards the nurse. Harry quickly follows behind her and apologizes. “She’s quite nervous.” 

“It’s no problem. I just need to get your weight and height before I get you to your room,” the nurse explains, gesturing to the scale. Melanie frowns when she notices her weight has changed in the last few weeks despite it being relatively stable. “I wouldn’t worry. It isn’t uncommon for weight to fluctuate after a stressful or traumatic event.” 

She nods, but doesn’t seem convinced. Harry feels confused too. He hasn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary about her eating habits, but he also doesn’t pay attention to her weight. She looks beautiful to him. She always has. He follows behind the two women to the consultation room. He lingers behind before stepping in.

“Are you coming in?” she asks nervously. 

“Would you like me to stay with you?”

“Please?” she squeaks, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. His face sports a gentle smile as he steps through the door frame, the nurse shutting the door behind him. 

After her vitals are taken, Dr. Rameriz joins them. 

“Hi, Melanie. I hear you’ve been feeling unwell. What’s been going on?” she asks, taking a seat in front of her. Melanie looks between Harry and the doctor before speaking. 

“I don’t know… I guess lately I’ve been feeling really tired. I’ve been nauseous and I get irritable easily. It feels like how I used to when I was first attacked,” she shrugs, her eyes downcast. 

“And…” Harry encourages her to continue. When it’s clear she isn’t going to share it herself, he takes it upon himself to speak for her. “She’s been throwing up quite a bit. We know her anxiety and panic can make her sick, but it seems a little more than usual.” 

“Hmm. Melanie, have you had any tenderness anywhere? Your stomach, your back, or breasts?” 

“Yes, all of those at some point.”

“I’m going to ask you a question and it’s going to be difficult. Do you remember the last time you had your period?” Dr. Rameriz questions, looking between the two. Harry can feel her stiffen next to him. He wraps his arm around her shrinking frame and reminds her to breathe. 

“I-I don’t know. I thought you said the medicines you gave me at the hospital would stop my period for a while, s-so I haven’t been paying attention,” she stutters. Dr. Rameriz nods and types a few things into her computer.

“When you were at the hospital, we ran a full panel of tests. Those include a screening for STDs and STIs and a pregnancy test. All came back negative, but the issue with testing the day of the attack is it could be too early to detect any signs of infection or pregnancy..”

“Are you saying…?” Harry begins.

“I don’t know. I think right now our best option is to run some tests and go from there, okay?” 

“Pink is positive, blue is negative,” the nurse reminds them, sticking the strip into the specimen cup. The room collectively holds its breath while they wait for her to pull it out. A small gasp escapes his mouth as the tip of the white paper turns an inescapable bright pink. He turns his head to look at her, but she sits in the chair next to him with an unreadable expression. 

“Dr. Rameriz will be back in shortly to talk with you about your other test results,” the nurse says quietly, leaving the pink strip on the counter and slowly retreating from the room. 

A loud silence rings out as the two process this news. Her arms hang limply in her lap, her eyes locked on the counter where the test lies. His shoulders tense as he remembers the face of her attacker. His blood boils every second he thinks his best friend would potentially have to relive this trauma for the rest of her life by looking at a child who shares half the genes of her attacker. Neither one of them can think of words to speak at this moment, so they remain silent until a knock on the door cuts through the air like a knife.

“I just got your results,” she starts solemnly, reading the room. “The good news is you are completely clear of any type of infection. You are as healthy as can be. I see you’ve seen the result of the pregnancy test, though. If you’d like, I can set you up to do some further testing and give you an estimate of how far along you are and we can discuss options today, or I can give you some information and you can come back at a later time.” 

“Maybe it would be best if you waited-”

“I want to know,” she suddenly interrupts. Harry whips his head around to look at her. Her eyes are locked on Dr. Rameriz, her expression still unreadable, yet unwavering. 

“Okay. I will have a nurse set up a sonogram and get some blood drawn and we will go from there,” Dr. Rameriz responds, closing her file. 

“Are you sure? This is a lot,” Harry warns, brows furrowing in concern. 

“I’m sure,” she nods, her eyes meeting his. He can tell she is deep in thought, but what about he couldn’t tell. If only he would let her into that beautiful mind of hers. He longed to know what she thought of. 

A nurse interrupts their connection to take them to the sonogram room. This time, she insists Harry walk next to her. She wraps herself around his tattooed arm, snuggling close to his body. He can’t stop the smile that is spreading across his face. He loves the feeling of her on his arm. He would do anything to keep her there. 

Once on the table, he stands next to her and resumes his hold on her hand. It’s found a home in her hold. While the technician is setting things up, she turns her head to face Harry. The crinkling of the paper underneath her alerts Harry of her movement. He looks down at her and presses a palm to her forehead, softly her pushing hair back. She gives a gentle smile, grateful for her best friend and his soothing touch. Her cheeks burn as he continues to caress her face sweetly. She tries to hide it by nuzzling into his hand, but it’s of no use. He can see the color on the apples of her cheeks.

“Okay, I’m going to lift your shirt here. It’s going to be a bit chilly. Sorry about that,” the tech starts. “I need you to relax a little.” 

“Sorry, I’m nervous,” she laughs, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Harry blinks rapidly, before letting out a tight laugh himself. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s heard that gorgeous sound. It’s like music to his ears. A few minutes pass as the tech looks around. Then, she pauses and lets out an excited squeal. 

“There you are! See that there? That is your baby. I’d say you’re about 8 weeks or so,” she exclaims, turning the screen towards the pair. Harry leans down so close his breath is fanning across her face. He can see tears welling in her eyes. Hell, tears are welling in his eyes. He’s always wanted kids. Since he’s met her, he knew he wanted kids with her. He’d never imagined it would be this way, but it didn’t matter. He’s determined to stand by her side. 

“Everything looks great. Would you like a picture to take home?” she asks, typing a few things on the machine. Melanie nods, her eyes glued to the screen. Surprised by her answer, Harry wonders what she is doing. The tech prints a picture of the ultrasound and hands it to her before leaving the room. 

Dr. Rameriz meets with them one last time, giving them a packet of information to take home. She gives them the numbers of a few OB-GYNs she recommends before sending them on their way. 

The car ride home is silent, but comfortable. Melanie runs her finger across the image of the baby, her baby. A mix of emotion swells in her chest. She can feel curiosity seeping off of Harry, but she doesn’t know what to say. She’s too entranced by this tiny human. Too scared to speak. Too enamoured to feel. 

Leaving Melanie to her thoughts, Harry sits in the front room of his house. His favorite armchair is drenched in sunlight, the perfect spot for writing. It’s there where he makes himself comfortable for hours while writing about anything and everything, from the way her voice travels through an empty room and fills it with a rich, velvet sound to the color of turquoise waves crashing on sandy beaches in a place he dreams of taking her. A soft knock on the door pulls him out of his trance. Leaning against the door frame, peaking into the room, she quietly asks if she can come in.

“You don’ have to ask, love. Come ‘ere,” he beckons, setting his journal down on the table next to him. She slowly walks over, her fiddling with her fingers nervously. He opens his arms as soon as she’s next to him. She expertly climbs into his lap, hiding her face in his neck. Minutes pass as the two sit in silence, Harry holding her together. He feels her breathing get uneven as warm tears wet his neck. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently, nuzzling his nose against her forehead.

“Why is this happening to me?” she mumbles into his neck, sniffling wetly. 

“What was that, love?” he asks, craning his neck towards her to try to hear her better. 

“I don’t know what to do,” she croaks. “I can’t do this. This isn’t supposed to happen. Now there’s a baby involved? How am I supposed to decide? God, I sound so selfish,” she rushes out, pushing the heels of her palms to her eyes. 

“Hey, hey, now. Slow down. You’re not selfish. None of this was supposed to happen, you’re right. But the only thing that matters is that you make the best decision for you and you only. You don’t have to decide right this second,” he replies, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. 

“What do I do?” she asks hoarsely, looking at him with glassy eyes. For a moment, he is almost tempted to tell her something, anything, to make her stop crying, but instead, he presses a gentle kiss to her nose. He drops his hands to her belly, which is still flat. 

“I can’t tell you what to do, but whatever you decide, you have my full support. You are not alone,” he promises, running his thumbs along her sides. His small, but meaningful gesture almost makes her heart explode. Even the smallest of his touches or gestures are full of love. 

She would be lying if she said she didn’t have feelings for her best friend. When they started working together, things got a little complicated. Spending every second together solidified her feelings for him, but seeing him surrounded by so many successful, talented, and beautiful women in the industry made her realize she would probably be the last person Harry would want. He could have anyone he wanted and she seriously doubted he would go for her. They’ve been friends for years and they’ve never been anything more, so she figured this wouldn’t cause change. That didn’t mean her feelings diminished or vanished, though. She knew, no matter what she chose, Harry would be right by her side. She truly did feel lucky to have him.

#harry styles #harry styles fandom #harry styles writings #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #sweet creature #chapter 3 #hs fandom #hs fic

[adoreyou303]

“walking around your room in circles talking to yourself pretending you’re a youtube video essayist/guest star on a talk show presenting and discussing your niche interests and opinions” moodboard

[adoreyou303]

HSLOT2:HAMBURG → “And who are you with tonight? Aaaand she’s gone…”

#hes such a character #what a babe #harry styles