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erodasfishtacos · 2 years

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Perfect To Me

prompt: harry loses his ring at coachella but luckily the right fan finds it

warnings: depictions of an anxiety attack, a pinch of smut, minors dni 18+

if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it! (this is what motivates me to continue writing)!

check out weekend one fic ——> here

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Harry was having the time of his life, Coachella two weekends in a row seemed unreal but as he danced across stage with hundreds of thousands of fans - reality was much better than a dream.

Lizzo had done incredible, he couldn’t have found a better person to cover I Will Survive with and the energy of the crowd was palpable.

YN was enjoying the show just as much with her friends in the small vip section off to the side in front of the stage - it was the same people as last week but Alessandro, Harris, Gemma, among others that made it even more exciting.

It had also been hotter than the weekend before, sweat was dripping down his temple and the leather of his ensemble was sticking rather uncomfortably to his damp body.

Kiwi was by far in his top songs that he loved to perform live, it was no different this time as Harry is absolutely headbanging, dancing, losing it to his own song.

YN loved watching him get so lost in the moment that he doesn’t care that anyone is watching him, she could see the telltale signs of him reaching his limit before his energy started to drop off.

Harry wasn’t thinking, he was completely immersed in the experience that he didn’t notice his wedding band sliding on his finger from the sweat and water he’d spilled when he sipped from his water bottle with jittery hands.

When he’s parading down the runway, he whips his water bottle around - spraying the fans with water before slamming it off the ground and the plastic goes flying.

It’s when the bottle leaves his hand, he feels his ring slip right off with it but it’s too late when he looks down at his hand to notice his fucking wedding band is missing.

The ring he never took off.

Even when he went without all of the bulky, heavy rings he liked to wear, he can’t remember the last time he’d taken off - so much so that there’s a tanline highlighting where the band had covered his skin.

Music pounding in his ears, adrenaline rushing through his body - he still manages to sing but is now panicking because he knows the ring went flying off the stage into the crowd.

He feels like he’s about to have a full fledged panic attack - something he hasn’t had for a very long time because he just lost his most treasured possession in a crowd of young adults who he knows would snatch it up in a heartbeat without any thoughts to return it to him.

YN notices that he’s off almost instantly, she watches as his vocals tighten up and he’s not dancing nearly as much as he was before, his eyes darting over the crowd quickly like he’s searching for someone or something.

She wonders briefly if someone threw something at him and hurt him, that’s happened in the past too many times to count.

As the song comes to an end, Harry makes his way back to his main microphone stand for the finale of Sign of the Times and on one of the very first notes, his voice cracks like it rarely ever does unless he’s really not focusing on his vocals.

YN is already weaving through the crowd with her bodyguard to get to the side stage to greet him when he is done because now she’s concerned.

Harry can barely focus on remembering his own lyrics to a song he’s sung countless times, keeps looking his his left hand as if he just expects it to reappear.

The thing is, Harry has lost things in the past and hasn’t gotten them returned.

Instead pictures end up plastered all over Twitter of people celebrating their find and bragging about it to others.

He doesn’t think he could bear to see a picture of his wedding band circulating on Twitter as a fan shows off the most important things he owns like it is meaningless.

It’s not even about the price of the ring, it was the fact that his wife had slid it down his finger during a ceremony where they committed themselves to each other for their entire lives.

It was the fact that it symbolizes so much.

“Do you think we’re too young to get married?” YN asks self-consciously, one night after a stop on their Where We Are Tour, crammed into a small bunk on the tour bus.

Harry who had been toying with her engagement ring on her finger looks up with a frown, “Why would you say that?”

YN shrugs dismissively before murmuring, “I overheard Eleanor and Salma talking in the dressing room. They said I’m stupid for saying yes because you’re not going to settle down when you could get anyone you wanted.”

Harry can’t help but laugh, smoothing out the furrow between her brow when she gives in a disgruntled glare.

“Just don’t how you could even bloody listen to their bullshit for more than a minute, really,” He chuckles softly, “I’ve wanted to make you m’wife since we were sixteen. I’ve waiting long enough. I want to experience this life with you. No one else. Pretty soon I’ll have a ring on my finger that shows the world too.”

When he misses her, if she wasn’t on tour, he’ll just twirling the band as a way to feel closer to her and not to mention the absolute arousal it made his wife feel when she saw that ring on his finger.

She’s pulled him aside an embarrassing amount of times just to jump his bones because of how sexy it was that he had a wedding band on his finger.

“Sweetheart, wha’ brought this on?” Harry giggles between the kisses that YN was laying on his lips as she hurriedly tried to unbutton his shirt.

“Just look so domestic,” She replies, determined to get him naked with rushed movements, lips moving down his chest as he’s bared, “Have that ring on your finger, letting everyone know you’re mine.”

And as soon as her lips wrap around him, his head is clunking against the wall and he’s moaning, “Yeah, baby. Yeah, I’m yours. S’yours.”

He was terrified that his wife was going to be furious with him for being irresponsible or that she was going to be heartbroken because he doesn’t want either because he was just as upset as she will be.

Harry was definitely on the verge of an anxiety attack as he shied away from the high notes at the end of the song - his throat felt tight and it was a struggle to get the lyrics out.

The crowd doesn’t seem happy when Harry makes his final bow and goodbye speech barely a minute long before he’s disappearing off the side stage.

There’s even chatter about whether he’s doing an encore because of how quickly he left his set but once the lights come up, they grumble when they realize he wasn’t coming back out.

“Bunny, what is going on with you?” YN asks instantly when he meets her at the exit but he doesn’t respond, just shakes his head and drags her into the tent where, like last week, the crew is bustling around.

“You look like you’re about to pass out, H,” She states when he still hasn’t spoken but she’s confused when he just pulls her into a hug and buries his face in her hair - chest heaving and she’s not sure whether it’s from performing or something else, “You need to talk to me, baby.”

When he pulls back, she’s no longer just confused but alarmed when there’s tears streaming down his cheeks and his sniffling fiercely, “I-baby, I can’t breathe.”

“Yes, yes you can, bunny,” YN soothes softly, leading him to the couch; fully understanding he’s having a panic attack and needs comfort right now, “C’mon, let’s steady your breathing. Everything is okay.”

Harry sits down, tugging YN onto his lap and pushing his face into her shoulder now as he struggles to catch a breath between his tears.

She doesn’t remember the last time he’d had an anxiety attack like this, it’s been at least a year, it didn’t happen often.

The group of their friends are trailing back to them, chattering and oblivious until they get closer - YN motions to them that they need to get lost in the nicest way possible.

They appeared concerned but respect them, backing away and disappearing out into the field to give them space.

“H, I need you to try to catch your breath,” YN encourages as she weaves her hands into his damp locks, scratching at his scalp in an effort to calm down.

“M-my ring f-fell off. It went into th-the crowd, I’ve lost it,” He admits against her skin, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist to keep her as close as he possibly can.

“You’ve lost rings in the past. What is making you get this upset?” YN asks obliviously, she didn’t even think of his wedding band - she just assumed it was one of his many gucci rings that had been a gift.

YN clearly remembers Harry losing his rose ring during a concert and being bummed that he couldn’t find it but not this inconsolable.

“My we-wedding band,” Harry whispers, bringing up his hand to show her before saying between tears, “I know it’s gone. No ones gonna return it. They never do. Baby, m’sorry. Please don’t be cross with me, I can believe I was so stupid and -“

YN is upset that Harry lost his wedding band but it’s not directed at him, not his fault that it slipped off and disappeared into a crowd of a hundred thousand people.

Of course the ring means a lot to her, is symbolic of their relationship and marriage but at the end of the day, it wasn’t worth Harry having a breakdown because though the ring was special, it wasn’t as important as Harry being okay.

She takes her thumbs and runs them along his stubbly cheeks, wiping away the wetness as he stares sadly at her - eyes wide and guilty.

“I would never be mad at you over something like this,” YN chuckles at him as he tilts his head to the side to kiss her palm, “I’m sad that it’s lost but accidents happen. I’m more worried about you having a panic attack than a piece of jewelry.”

“It’s my favorite possession,” Harry rasps, relieved that she wasn’t furious or heartbroken like he was catastrophizing would happen.

“I can’t believe I’m a married man,” Harry murmurs happily as the wind lightly blows around them in the crisp, salty night air.

“Tied down at twenty,” YN giggles from where she’s lounging against his chest, laid between his legs on the lounger, “You're giving up a lot of opportunities, rockstar.”

“Not giving up anything,” He corrects her, letting her twist the band back and forth on his finger, “Our age doesn’t matter, my love. Belonged to you since we were kids anyways. M’yours, my body, mind, has and always will be yours. Now you just officially own me.”

YN brings his left hand up to her lips, kissing his ring, and then the palm of his hand before snuggling further back into his warmth, “My husband.”

“Yeah, baby. M’your husband,” Harry agrees once again as they watch the waves crash down on each other before fading out at the shore.

“I hate seeing you this devastated, it’s breaking my heart,” YN frowns as she continues to wipe at the falling tears, “I just want you to be happy, celebrating all this success.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Harry sighs, leaning into her touch and purposefully avoiding the eye contact of all the curious crew, “I’m fucking everything up.”

“Don’t ever apologize for your feelings, bunny,” YN smiles lovingly, thumb running over his plump bottom lip, “Just take a few minutes and just breathe with me. I need you to get your breathing under control or you’re going to get light headed.”

Harry nods in agreement, let’s YN guide his head until his ear is against her chest where he can hear the calming, steady thumping of her heart and tries to match the pace - squeezing his eyes closed and inhaling through his nose.

She just holds him as he breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, her hands wandering all over him to keep him grounded, and giving harsh glares to anyone who even looks in their direction.

Then his sobs pick up again, not as much as before but YN titters and pulls his head up, searching his watery eyes and his flushed face, “What has gotten into you, baby?”

“Not only di-did I fuck up by losing my ring, now I’ve ruined the entire night. I had something planned to surprise you with and now it’s all fucked,” He whimpers unhappily, his jaw flexing and right now he looked like a sixteen year old boy again who just got declined at the first X factor round and she can’t stand it.

“I do-don’t know why I even bothered,” Harry cries as he walks off the main stage, surrounded by YN, Anne, Gemma, Robin, and his cousin, Matt.

“I’m so proud of you though,” YN tries to give him a small smile, she was disappointed for him but knew it had been a long shot.

“You don’t have to lie. I butchered the song, shouldn’t have sung it,” He huffs, using his scarf to wipe at the tears on his cheeks.

“Don’t have to believe me but I am,” YN argues as she drags him into a hug, “Can’t wait to tell everyone at school that my boyfriend sang in front of the X factor judges.”

“Really?” He sniffles, peeking up at her to make sure she isn’t lying before his name is being called to walk back onto the stage.

That was nearly twelve years ago but right now, as her now much more muscular, tall, manly husband still had the same expression he did then.

The same wet green eyes with thick, black eyelashes blinking up at her, his cheeks pink from scrubbing at them, his lips parted as he tried to breath steady.

She loved him so fucking much.

Right now, she felt extremely defensive of him and didn’t like all the stares that he was receiving even when he didn’t notice them.

YN slips off his lap, grabs his duffle, and scrounges until she pulls out his neon yellow pleasing hoodie, athletic shorts, new socks, and his nike running shoes.

“Let’s go back to the hotel. We’ll have more privacy there, okay?” YN murmurs as she helps him off the couch and shimmies off his vest before going to undo his belt buckle and button until he can step out of them and change his street clothes.

YN feels overdressed now in her one piece denim outfit with her cowgirl hat still hung around her neck with a string and boots that were blistering the back of her feet. *** (there’s also an HS on her bum)

Harry, despite how clouded he is by his anxiety and dread, always notices and doesn’t hesitate before he’s pulling out her more comfortable clothes as well.

Unlike him, she doesn’t have the confidence to strip her clothes in front of anyone and gives him a peck before running to the bathroom to change into a hoodie and black biker shorts, now comfortable slides on her feet.

When she steps out, Harry is waiting obediently by the door - eyes downcast and avoidant of anyone who comes near him.

She hated seeing him like this, crawling back into his shell and into himself when he felt unsure or upset instead of the bright beacon of light he usually is.

“Come on, my love,” YN hums softly, not giving him an option as she intertwines their hands - his much larger one completely encompassing hers.

YN doesn’t think this breakdown is just because of the ring or ruined night. She just guesses those were icing in the cake.

These major performances, headlining, releasing new music - it was overwhelming because people expected and relied so much on him that sometimes he just hit his breaking point and couldn’t take anymore stress.

Before they can exit the tent, Harry Lambert is calling after them - shouting at them to stop and YN tenses in preparation to give him a piece of her mind which was usually her husband’s job.

“What? We’re heading back to the hotel. Harry’s not trying on any outfits right now,” YN tells him firmly because sometimes he’ll try his luck at Harry testing out some new outfits sent in by designers.

“S’not that. There’s some fan who thinks she found Harry’s wedding band and she wants to return it to you. I looked at it and it’s a exact replica if it’s not yours but I told her -“

“Bring her back here,” Harry interrupts, flashing Lambert his bare ring finger, “It fell off during the set. I thought I lost it for good.”

“ I can just snag it from her-“

“I want to thank her,” He cuts him off again, his bottom lip almost quivering with relief - he’s trying not to give his hopes up but what are the chances.

Mariah doesn’t think she’s ever had more fun at a concert, only two people back from the barrier, and she could see every detail on Harry Styles’ outfit and body.

And not to mentioned YN’s, she looked unreal in the body hugging dark denim outfit with her chest on display and an HS on her bum to match Harry - like she was his property.

It was an unreal experience and she was devastated that it was over as the lights came up - atmosphere quickly dying out as the energy dissipates.

Harry had left the stage abruptly and without his normal farewell, she chalked it up to that he might have been feeling ill.

It takes a while for people to file out of the grassy area in an orderly fashion, when it’s finally her turn, she bends down to grab her purse when she notices a glint in the blades of grass.

Mariah curiously runs her hand across the area, bringing up a gold ring that has a large emerald cut diamond in the center.

***(imagine it in gold)

For a moment, she thinks that someone just lost a piece of costume jewelry but when she examines it closer - the diamond look real based on the way it sparkles when hit with her phone light.

It looks oddly familiar but she is not sure if she’s just imagining things, she flips it in her palm, and notices something engraved in the inside of the band.

eternally yours, (YN’s initial).

Holy shit.

Mariah was now ninety-five percent sure that this was none other than Harry fucking Styles ring and she just blinked down in it surprise.

She googles it quickly in her photo search, confirming it is his ring when a article pops up with the title.

Harry Styles Goes Nontraditional With His $125,000 Tiffany & Co. wedding band!

Mariah realizes she’s holding the amount that her college tuition cost in the palm of her hand right now - it was insane.

She had to get it back to him and has no idea how to do that.

Her hands were shaking as she glanced around at the remaining people around her, back to the small group where Harry's friends and family had been.

Mariah spots Harry Lambert speaking to someone she doesn’t recognize and she rushes over to the barrier, breathlessly interrupting, “Harry, Harry!”

The stylist gives her a bit of a confused glance before giving her a small wave and returning to his conversation.

She felt awkward, like she was being a bother but she spoke up again, “I think I have something that Harry Styles lost.”

That grabs the blond’s attention, saying something to his friend before he’s making his way over to the barrier - a perplexed expression on his face.

Mariah holds out the ring and the stylist takes it, brows furrowed as he examines it but she’s surprised when he doesn’t seem convinced - like it was just a knockoff replica and she was just trying to see if it could get her backstage to meet Harry.

“Let me go check with him,” Lambert replies hesitantly, handing the ring back to her before muttering, “I’ll be right back.”

It seems like an eternity but in reality, it was probably only ten minutes before Harry Lambert is reappearing to address Mariah, “Come with me.”

She’s shocked by this, she thought that if it was really his that his stylist would collect the piece of jewelry and send her on her merry way.

Very very quickly she realizes that she’s probably about to meet Harry Styles as Lambert guides her into the tent.

And she was right.

Mariah is absolutely shaking with nerves when she’s led into a lounge area where none other than her fucking idol and his wife are sitting.

Her eyes instantly begin tracing over every part of him close up - his stubble, how pink his lips are, how muscular he actually is.

His face is red, puffy like he’d been crying and Mariah wonders if it was because he had lost his wedding band, it makes her stomach drop.

He stands up with a small smile when Mariah and Lambert arrive in front of him, she brings her hand out and Harry reaches out with his palm - dropping the ring in it.

Harry swallows heavily as he gives the ring a quick once over before sliding it back down his ring finger as quickly as he possibly can.

“I cannot thank you enough…” Harry rasps, his voice was deep and his accent took her by surprise for some reason.

“Mariah,” She answers with a wide smile.

“Thank you, Mariah,” He reiterates softly, then he does the unexpected and tugs her into a tight hug, a big bear hug.

It didn’t feel like real life - Harry, Harry Styles was currently hugging her and she can smell how wonderful his cologne is, how strong he is, and warm.

The hug only lasts a moment but as soon as they separate she’s being embraced by another person, his wife before she pulls back and smiles at her.

“We are so incredibly grateful,” YN tells her sweetly before stepping back next to her husband, “Thank you for returning it to us.”

Mariah doesn’t miss how Harry’s arm snakes around his wife’s waist and brings her straight into the curve of his side, fingers squeezing lovingly at her plushy hip.

“Of-of course,” The fan responds with a stutter due to the nerves still flaring up in her belly at being in such close proximity to her favorite celebrity.

“Let us repay you,” Harry says as he eyes Jeff, “Go get some pleasing merch and a sharpie.”

Mariah thanks him multiple times as he hands her a massive bag full of free hoodies, scarves, polishes - he pulls out a few things to sign with a black marker.

Jeff reports that he has one more thing to grab for Mariah, Harry Lambert leads her over to the fridge and offers her a drink which she accepts a water.

While her and the stylist are making small talk, Mariah can't help but overhear Harry and YN’s hushed conversation.

YN had her hands around his neck, stepping on his toes, and murmuring to him, “See? Everything’s okay, bunny. Now stop worrying, I love you. You’re perfect to me, you know?”

Harry gives his wife an embarrassed smile before leaning down to brush his nose against hers, whispering something back to his wife that Mariah can’t hear.

Whatever he says makes YN giggles girlishly before pecking his lips three times before pulling away, laughing even more when Harry lips try to chase after hers for one more.

Mariah leaves the tent with an experience she’ll never forget, a bag full of sign merch, and tickets to one of Harry’s upcoming shows - front row.

She decides not to plaster their business all over the internet because seeing how in love the couple truly is reminds her of how they’re human just like her who deserve privacy and respect.

Harry’s surprise turned out to be that he got the roof of the hotel closed off, had his team set up candles, and flowers all around the rooftop pool in the hopes of a romantic date night.

“After you fucked me so good last weekend,” Harry rumbles when they arrive at the top floor and into the pool area, “I thought it’d be romantic to have a nice date up here, possibly some pool sex.”

“Mmm, the most romantic,” YN agrees with a chuckle because it was such a sweet gesture but she could also tell the panic attack took so much out of Harry.

Instead of stripping their clothes off to swim, YN guides them over to a hammock that was set up between two of the pillars and they pile in together.

She lets Harry be the one to get cuddled, he lays his head in her chest with his arm over her tummy, legs intertwined with hers.

His eyes are already drifting shut as she begins to rake her fingers through his messy locks, massaging at his temples with her thumbs.

He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t have the chance because he’s lightly snoring within ten minutes of them even being in the hammock.

At the end of the day, the big bad sex symbol of a man was still the same sensitive boy she fell in love with all those years ago.

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