#harry styles hate blurb | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fleuraimer · 1 month

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…. perhaps a harry x reader blurb to spare 🤲 i will take anything u want to give me. fluff or smut or both or neither ❤️❤️❤️❤️ u rock and my name is also evelyn so i feel bonded to u

u've absolutely made my day with this evelyn :((( i hope you like what i've concocted bestie, she's kinda all over the fucking place, but nonetheless, i hope you enjoy <33

wc: 2k

cw: not much, super fluffy, mildly (perhaps majorly) suggestive. not suitable for ramadan!! not proofread. lmk if i missed anything pls!!

Spring is here.

Fucking finally.

All the seasons were lovely to Y/N, each offered something the others didn’t—couldn’t. But spring was different. Special.

Like him.

Like Harry.

Perhaps that’s why her love for it blossomed like the tulips lining her bedroom window; there was something about seeing her usually soft boyfriend get ten times softer as leaves started to sprinkle branches, blades of grass flashed a vibrant green once more, and the sun kissed the earth that got to her tender heart.

It was especially difficult to not melt when he’d planned a small outing for them, centered around the perfectly warm weather. Instead of waiting until nightfall and driving to some stuffy restaurant (although their dinner dates were never anything less than exquisite), they walked hand-in-hand down the boulevard in broad daylight, gentle wisps of wind the only thing surrounding them, as well as the quiet conversation of other passersby.

They didn’t talk. They didn’t have to. They were perfectly content to relish in the mere presence of one another—soak in the rays of sun, and warmth. Love.

Thumbs gave mindless, delicate strokes against the back of palms, rucking up rings, kissing knuckles in apology, and putting them back in place, just to repeat it all over again. The knitted fabric of Harry’s cardigan is soft when it brushes against Y/N’s bare arm (she decided that it was absolutely perfect weather to slip on her favorite flowy sundress, cinched at the waist and flared at the hips, printed with obnoxiously serene-looking flowers and hummingbirds, with a square neckline that farmed the intricate necklace Harry bought her for their second anniversary quite stunningly), but his hand in hers was softer. Better.

Said hand tugs on hers, urging her away from the beaten path and into the ravine of tall, never-ending trees—willows and oaks; sycamores, birches, and maples, too. She resists, no less. Looks down at the cobblestone beneath her soles, and the cute kitten heels that (in her humble opinion) tie her whole spring-era look together.

She pouts.

And then a head of chocolate obscures her view of the pristine, white triangle toes. A hand placed both respectfully and salaciously on her ankle, coaxing her foot to slip from its confines, makes her breath catch in her suddenly dry throat.

Her kind eyes glaze over, ever so slightly.

“Y’don’t have’t—”

“I want to, Bellissima.”

Her shoe slips from her foot with a soft clatter on the ground when he manages to pry her sole from the earth, but it barely registers in her brain. In fact, everything else seems to fade away into the lovely spring that encompasses them when Harry guides his hand further up, along her fleshy calf, and leans in to place a chaste, staggering kiss to the bridge of her foot.

She wobbles, but they both know it’s not because she’s been left to balance on one foot.

Harry smiles, faint—the crater in his stubbled cheek is nearly invisible—and nudges his nose along the smooth skin of her leg.

He works diligently (as diligently as one can when removing a shoe) to rid Y/N of her footwear, relieving her of any worry or pain.

He looks pleasantly boyish when he looks up at her, smiles all cheeky, and winks for good measure. Kneeling on cobblestone in a worn pair of jeans, suede, dirty Adidas, and a vintage band tee that smells of stale coffee, Chanel No. 5 (one of many preferred perfumes of Y/N), and sex no matter how many times they run it through the wash; the green of his seafoam eyes twinkling in the sunlight, sunnies pushing his hair back, and yet one rogue curl still bends and twirls with the wind, falling in a perfectly aesthetic spiral when it settles…

Soft. Boyfriend. Hers.

Her Harry.

He stands to his full height, and they’re much closer than she’d thought they would be, but she’s certainly not complaining. Where before she stood at (about) Harry’s collarbone, now her head barely reaches the underside of his pecs. Her neck strains to keep eye contact as he slips his free hand back into her awaiting palm, the latter of which occupied with their stuffed picnic basket, and now her precious kitten heels.

“Need me to carry you?” He asks, ready to suffer at least a week’s worth of back pain if it meant he’d keep that love-struck, glowy, adorable (subby, stupid, filthy) look on his girl’s face.

Y/N’s eyes widen subtly, though enough for Harry to notice, and he can’t help but have to stifle a chuckle at her bashful demeanor.

“No, thank you,” she squeaks, and now she’s the one tugging his hand, urging them into the abyss of greenery, away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

The grass feels soft, ticklish, between her powder pink painted toes; she feels her lips stretch into a small grin because of it. They walk idly until they find a soft patch of vividly green grass directly under a tree, kissed fleetingly by the rays of sunlight peaking through the gaps of branches and leaves.

Harry lets his hand fall from Y/N’s (and can’t help but feel slightly colder because of it) to unpack their picnic basket. He grabs the signature red gingham picnic blanket from its place in the basket, releasing its folded form with a flourish. The material floats gracefully through the air until settling on the grass, near gingerly with the way it stops at just the very tips of the blades.

He kicks his chin toward the blanket in invitation as he settles on top of it himself, beginning to remove the contents inside their basket. Sandwiches, fruits, veggies; assorted cheeses and meats, cake, and, arguable most important, wine. He wastes no time in popping the cork from the rouge, pouring a generous amount into each of the pinot noir glasses he’d carefully tucked in the picnic basket.

Y/N kneels onto the blanket, walking on her knees until Harry is within reach, and his incessantly grabby hands are (surprise, surprise!!) grabbing her. He hands her her wine glass and sets his off to the side for the time being, sliding his bear palms up the full of her thighs, the swell of her bum, small of her back…

She shivers as they pet down again, nails biting at her hips to grip and pull her into his lap.

“Too far,” he grumbles, nuzzling in the space where her neck and collarbone meet. He peppers soft kisses along the strong bone, inhaling the natural, overwhelming scent of her. His girl.

Y/N goes easily, sipping slowly at her red wine while her free hand comes up to his hair, fingers threading through the fluffy tendrils. She snatches his sunnies away when they block her half-hearted scalp massage, muttering delicate apologies when the bend of them gets stuck in his hair and he hisses at the sting.

“Sorry, Baby,” she winces herself, chucking the damned glasses onto the blanket when she’s gotten them loose, kissing along the crown of his head to soothe any ache.

She sips more, tart grape hitting her tongue, sugary plum sliding down her throat, strawberry slicking her lips. She’s borderline greedy with the way she downs it, but they’ve got nowhere to be. Only here. Just here. Now.

She twists in Harry’s laps to grab one of the homemade BLTs, offering the half she won’t stuff her fat gob with to Harry, which he politely accepts. They munch quietly, sharing soft smiles and love-sick kisses in between bites. Conversation is sparse, but not bad. Never bad. If anything, the weight of their words is heavier because they’re so few and far between.

They both like it that way, anyhow.

When their feast has dwindled down to nothing but a few fruits and cakes, Harry fishes his phone from his pocket, and reaches in the picnic basket to grab his trusty pair of wired headphones. Hooking them up to his phone, he looks expectantly to Y/N. She raises her brow, never one to move unprompted.

Harry smirks, “Come, Bellissima.”

Her heart flitters, her stomach flutters, and her eyes round out (Harry tries not to think about how fucking easy—). She crawls back to him, in a way that is unnecessarily intimate and innocent, and simultaneously astoundingly nasty, but he tucks the image into the deep, deep, dark recess of his mind so he doesn’t get arrested for public indecency. Saves it for later (call it his spankbank).

He tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ear before handing her and earbud, and lying down on his side. She follows, the two inserting the device into their ears at the same time. Her head instantly floods with staggered strings and piano, static, and then bass. Saxophone and acoustic guitar being delicately plucked, followed by a heady, gentle voice, similar to Bowie (but never as iconic).

“About You,” she whispers to him, her lips quirking.

Harry nods. Smiles, “The 1975.”

As the music progresses—the subtle vibrato of Matty Healy’s croon, the crescendo of each instrument and sound blending together to create one beautiful, extravagant, mind-bending symphony—Y/N swears she can see all five oceans in his eyes. The clear, breathtaking reefs, the lines that separates it from the rest of the water, dividing the calm from the chaos, the serene from the danger. She sees the deep, the unknown she wishes the dive further into, explore and discover, treasure for nothing but her own heart. And the seafoam that crashes up against the shore, the way it bubbles with joy and glistens in the light of the sun at the horizon, ever so fleeting as it washes back down the grains of sand.

She sees it all.

“S’pretty,” she mumbles, scooting closer as much as she can.

Harry wraps the arm not tucked under his head around her waist, pulling her closer. His eyes flit dazedly between her two.

She may see the ocean, but he sees the sky. The constellations, laid out for him beautifully, his for the taking. His.

He nods, “S’pretty.” Bumps his nose childishly against hers, smiles softly, triumphantly, when it scrunches up. His eyebrows pull together in the center, and he huffs a breath through his nose, “S’fucking gorgeous, Stellina.”

His mouth is on her before she can ask for a translation (there’s only some many Italian pet names a girl can recall) tongue prodding at the seem of her lips until they give way and he can slide the wet muscle against her own. She tastes of their shared wine and vanilla buttercream, and he tastes of fresh peaches, mozzarella, and tangy balsamic vinegar. And yet, somehow, it mixes together to create something new, something better, arguably. He fits her bottom lip between his two, nipping and sucking at the plump flesh, pulling breathy whimpers and faint moans from his lover. His grunts and groans in response are no less self-deprecating (they were both, admittedly, getting extremely hot over a couple of third date level kisses).

Neither paid it much mind, however. Especially not when Harry flips around so he’s lying on his back and she’s pressed firmly against his torso, belly’s melding, chests grazing. Y/N can’t stifle her soft gasp at the heavy weight of Harry against her inner thigh, but she can’t reprimand him, for she is no better—there’s a puddle in the gusset of her panties.

“Harry,” she whines, lashes fluttering when his hands find the swell of her bum and squeeze through the flimsy fabric of her sundress.

“G'na take y'home now, Bellissima,” he husks against her open mouth, tongue flicking at the swollen mess. “Fuck you the way y'deserve for being such a good girl today—” She bristles, rocking into him and crying out softly because of it. “—and if y'keep it up, we’ll go to tha’ cute little flee market y'keep tellin’ me about, yeah?”

She’s being bribed with his (impeccable; divine; otherworldly) cock and her love for all things vintage.

“Can we go to the botanical garden, too?”

Harry snorts, issues a teasing spank to her bum that makes her squeal, but smiles, nevertheless. “Sure, Baby, whatever y'want.”

(Impeccable; divine; otherworldly) Cock, a flee market, and a botanical garden?

She’s in heaven. In happiness. In full bloom.

She fucking adores spring.

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cinnamon-harry · 2 years

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elsa hosk w her child?? 🤍

a little stepdadrry action today🫶

————

yourinstagram, annetwist and 214,103 others

lloyddddddddddddddddd babies on tour

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harryfan1 DADRRY SAYS HEY

ynfan1 who’s baby

harryfan2 GOODBYE THIS IS SO CUTE

ynfan2 IS THIS Y/N’s BABY🥹

ynfan3 since when

harryfan3 @/ynfan3 they’ve been rumored to have been together for like 2 years now, ever since y/n and her ex (the father of her baby) split

52,748 likes

ynupdates1 y/n at harry’s show on a friends instagram story!

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ynfan1 shut up that’s so cute

ynfan2 wait bc they’d actually be such a cute little family

harryfan1 at one point harry blew a kiss to them🥹i’m not sobbing i swear

harryfan2 imagine y/n being ur mom and harry styles being ur potential stepdad

victoriamonet, bellahadid and 1,027,846 others

yourinstagram yesterday and today 🤍

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ynfan1 u really just gave birth to u

yourinstagram @/ynfan1 she’s my little twin😭🤍

harryfan1 NAH I KNOW HARRYS HAND WHEN I SEE HARRYS HAND

harryfan2 she won. she literally won.

bellahadid gorgeous as always

yourinstagram @/bellahadid ugh ily

ynfan2 HELLOOOOO R WE ALL SEEING THIS

harryfan3 i feel like i’m dreaming

———

masterlist.

#harry styles #elsa hosk #again— bc tumblr hates me— sorry if the formatting is weird #i gave up girl #harry styles blurb #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles fake social media #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles instagram #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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dontworrysunflower · 2 years

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Just a Little Bit of Your Heart | h.s.

summary: you and harry met in 2013 when he wrote a song for your album. since then you’ve grown close and recently got married. you guys have never performed the song together…until now.

a/n: this came to me after his first performance and i couldn’t get it out of my head

warnings: cringey cuteness

word count: 2.44k

masterlist | enjoy!!

(not my picture, credits to owner)

You sat on a stool inside the recording booth, exercising your voice and testing out the equipment. You sang a couple of ranges and moved the microphone around until it was in your face. You watched your manager rush in, a big smile on her face. You smiled nervously at her antics since she was always composed and professional. “What’s with you?” You asked as you took off the headphones from your head and walked out of the booth.

“It’s been so hard to keep this from you, but I have been in talks with someone who wanted to work with you and he’s written a song for you. He’s on his way up to show you the demo.” Your manager, Sofia, does a little dance behind Lily, who was your sound producer for this album.

“Who?” You chuckled, looking over at Lily, who just shrugs at you.

Sofia giggles as she plops down on a sofa that’s tucked into a corner of the studio. “You won’t believe me. He’s very famous right now and gorgeous.”

Your eyes widen at her choice of words. “You, Sofia, find a man attractive?”

She playfully rolls her eyes. “I’m gay not blind.”

Both you and Lily start to laugh but it's shortened by a knock. Sofia jumps off the couch, “Come in, Harry!”

Your eyebrows furrow, that name sounds familiar, you thought.

And you would be right, because the door diligently opens to present a tall man, tattoos on display on his golden skin, and his brown hair styled to look messy. He wore a plaid shirt that had the first couple of buttons open, showing off his multiple necklaces and more tattoos.

Harry Styles.

You’ve only seen him in passing at award shows, since you can’t get close enough to mutter an introduction. Sofia was right, he’s very popular. He was in the biggest boyband in the world, and he wanted to work with you?

“(Y/N), pleasure to meet you. I’m Harry.” He stood before you, his green eyes piercing into yours, a hand adorned with rings staying between you two.

You gave him a tight lipped smile and took his hand, shaking it firmly to hide your stress over the situation. “It’s nice to meet you too, Harry. I’ll be honest, I didn’t know you were coming until thirty seconds ago.”

He laughs and looks over at Sofia. “Yes, well I had asked Sofia to keep it a secret.” He chuckled nervously, his dimples indenting his cheeks. “Thought it would be fun.” He fully smiled down at you.

He introduces himself to Lily, who was a little starstruck. Before you knew it, he got to work. Pulling out his phone from his back pocket and going into detail about his song.

Just a little bit of your heart.

+++

That was almost ten years ago. After that day, he came by for every recording session, and not just for the song. But for the entire album. Outside of your family, he was the first person you showed the album to, and it was then you realized how important you were to each other.

You hung out more after that, mainly as friends at first. But it soon turned into more. Harry kissed you at your release party, when he had pulled you away from the bustling crowd to give you a gift. You did your best to keep your relationship a secret, but it became harder as you both acclaimed more fame.

Around the time he became a solo artist, you both decided that you didn’t care. You guys would go on dates and kiss in public, and everyone ate it up. You would talk about each other in interviews, and you guys would even do some together. His favorite thing to do is talk about you.

It was during lockdown that he had proposed to you. It was late at night (it was barely 10PM, but that was late for you guys) and you were lounging around in your shared living room. You guys were sitting silently when he jumped off the couch, startling you.

“I’ll be right back.” He mumbled before he ran off to go upstairs, nearly tripping as he took two steps at a time.

You could hear him shuffling around, his feet loudly stepping as he looked around for whatever he wanted. You hear him running back down the stairs, your smile softening as his hair bounced with every step he took.

Before you knew it he sat back next to you and took your hand, smiling nervously at you. He opens a velvet box to show a beautiful diamond ring. “I have been meaning to do this for a long time.” He spoke softly, his voice breaking. Tears flooded his eyes. His painted fingers rubbed the skin of your hand delicately as he sniffled before he spoke up again. “I’ve known you for a long time and I have been in awe of you. I’ve spent every day for the past nine years with you, and I want to spend my life with you. Will you marry me?”

You chuckled through tears, your smile just as bright as his when you nodded.

You got married in May of 2021 in an intimate ceremony with your closest families and friends.

And the rest was history.

Here you were now in LA, two weeks before his Coachella performance. He was making his rounds on radio shows to promote his new song As It Was and his upcoming album Harry’s House. He sat in the dining room, playing around with the computer as he got ready for another interview.

“Baby!” He whispered harshly.

You turned around from making your coffee, seeing him looking at you in distress. You walked over to him, resting your hand on his back. “What?”

“I can’t hear anything.” He looked at the screen nervously, seeing the interview laughing.

You leaned down to look at the screen better, lighting smiling at the interviewer who waved but you couldn’t hear. “Computer…audio.” You pressed a couple buttons before turning towards Harry who was already looking at you. “Does it work now?” You asked him, looking over at the earphones in his ears.

He nods and mouths a thank you before he kisses your arm. You kiss his head and walk back to your coffee.

“Oh,” He chuckles. “Yes, that was the missus.” He looked over at you for a second. “After so long, you’d think I would get this zoom stuff down by now.” He giggled.

It’s silent for a little longer. “It’s good, married life isn’t as different as I thought, but it's better if that makes sense.” He smiles as he talks, his eyes shifting towards you for a split second.

You smiled into your mug, turning around to wave at him behind the computer before walking out, sending him a small wink.

+++

Harry had been sitting in the same spot all morning, busy with interviews and meetings about his upcoming performance at Coachella.

He had told you a couple of nights ago that he was going to have Shania Twain perform with him the first night, and you could tell by his little smile that he was excited but nervous.

He had just gotten off the phone with her and Jeff when he called for you. You stayed put on the couch, your feet tucked under your bent legs. Your fingers played with the ends of the page of your book, your nail picking at the corner as you waited for him to find you.

He appears a second later by the hallway, and a smile spreads on his face when he locks eyes with you. You smiled back at him as he made his way to you, a boyish smile playing on his lips. You bookmarked your page and placed your book on the coffee table in front of you as he jumped next to you, a giggle leaving his lips. His arms wrap around your middle and bring you to sit on his lap, your hands rest on his shoulders to steady yourself.

“How’d it go?” You asked softly, your gaze shifting between his emerald eyes and his rose lips.

His finger played with the frayed string from your shirt when he leaned in to kiss the corner of your lips. “Really good actually. I’m really excited.” His hands had moved to the inside of your shirt, his warm hands rubbing up the curve of your back. He kisses your clothed shoulder. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” His eyes stayed away from yours, showing just how nervous he was about what he wanted to bring up.

Your hands moved from his shoulders up the expanse of his neck and into his hair, taking off the clip on top of his head and ruffling his hair, giving him a middle part in his hair.

“What if…in the second show, you come on stage with me? We could sing just a little bit of your heart.”

Your hands stilled in his locks and you looked at him with widened eyes, shocked at his sudden interest to perform together. In all the years you’ve known each other and your relationship has grown, he had never mentioned wanting to perform together, even when fans urged for it. You both have sung it separately, and you would be lying if you said you never thought about it, if you never hoped for it.

“You wanna sing with me?” You asked, your smile growing, as well as his.

“Of course I do, I feel like it’s the right time.” His dull fingertips scratch at your hips. “So is that a yes?”

You answer him with a kiss.

+++

April 22, 2022

You watched from backstage as Harry and the band finished a song, your hand wrapped around a wireless microphone, your in-ears tucked into your ears as you waited for Harry to introduce you.

The band calmed down and got ready for the next song, a stagehand giving Harry an acoustic guitar to swing around his neck. Harry stands in front of his mic stand, his guitar pick in between his teeth as he runs his hands through his hair.

He clears his throat. “This next song, I haven’t performed in a long time. Um, as many of you know, or maybe not. I wrote this song and gave it away-” He’s interrupted with screams. “I gave it away to a wonderful, talented singer. She’s a very indie artist, I don’t know if you know.”

You chuckle as his little joke, your foot tapping nervously.

“Who knew that down the line, she would become my wife.” Everyone awes and screams. “Please help me welcome my beautiful wife, (Y/N) Styles!” The crowd gets louder as you walk out, your eyes adjusting to the change of brightness. You stand next to your husband and take his hand he held out. He kisses the ring on your finger that he gave you, making you blush. You wave to the crowd as stagehands bring you and Harry stools to sit on. Harry keeps a hold of you as you sit up. He adjusts himself on his seat and rests his guitar on his lap. He looks over at you, giving you a small nod with his eyebrows raised.

“This is just a little bit of your heart.”

The crowd claps and cheers as Ny Oh plays the piano behind you, a metronome and countdown playing in your ears before the backtrack starts.

You sing the first verse, your eyes shut as you feel the music and lyrics. You both sing the chorus and then he sings the second chorus, your voice vocalizing behind him.

When it comes to the bridge, you both sing, taking turns at singing each line.

You inhale deeply, your eyes slightly opening to meet Harry’s as you get ready for your high note.He sends you a wink as he continues to strum his guitar.

As you belt out, you realize that you can’t hear his voice in your ears but you don’t think much of it since you start to hear again a few seconds later, just before the song ends.

You open your eyes fully to turn to the crowd and then to your husband, who had since stopped playing his instrument. He takes his microphone off the stand and takes your hand in his other one as you sing the last words together, the band behind you closing out the notes.

The large audience erupts in screams, making you smile. You start to stand off your stool, your hand still in his as he yells “Give it up, for (Y/N) Styles!”

You squeeze his hand and smile up at him, your eyes squinting at the changes in light.

Before you walk off stage, you wave off into the crowd just before Harry pulls you into a hug and kisses your head then playfully shoves you. “Alright, my turn to shine now.”

You shake your head and chuckle at him, secretly blowing him a kiss before walking off stage. But not before you give excited waves to the band before they continue on with the show.

+++

It’s a couple of days after the show and you guys are back into hiding, staying in the comfort of your home before it all gets chaotic again, since his album is set to release in about a month.

You’re bundled up on the couch, a fluffy blanket covering you up just below your ears as you scroll on TikTok; your latest obsession.

You come across a video from your Coachella performance, both you and Harry sitting up on stage with a mic against your faces. You notice how Harry looked at you the entire time, his eyes trained on you as you sang your verse and the chorus. The video captures the moment between the two of you before your high note, your cheeks lightly heating from the memory of the wink. Even after so many years together, heh can still make you nervous.

This video gives you the answer as to why you couldn’t hear his voice. He had completely stopped singing, had halted his fingers on the strings of his guitar as he admired you, a smile splitting his face. You see the moment he realizes he stopped performing all together, and as he starts up again his eyes never leave you.

You can’t resist as you look at the comments, your face heating up at every lovely post. One pinned comment catches your eye.

harrystyles: She has every bit of my heart.

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gucciforasushirestaurant · 4 months

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Please please please send me some fluffy or smutty holiday requests for some shorties ¨̮

I’m wanna post a few today since I’m behind on kinkmas 😬. Just to get you guys some fluff to break up the filth too

Kinkmas #3 may not be up today? I will see how much of it I can edit, since I have work until about 8pm tonight 😭😭😭

#I hate having two jobs #Harry come save me from this life #harry styles fic #Harry styles blurbs #Harry styles blurb #Harry styles requests #Harry styles request #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #call to action

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smilesstyless · 1 year

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I have an amazing idea but I just can’t think of an beginning

#i hate when this happens #i really wanna write this #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles au

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harrysfolklore · 4 months

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husband and wife - harry blurb

those harry pics gave me major new husband!harry vibes so here we are, hope you enjoy !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The Caribbean sun, the man you loved and your friends. There was definitely no better way to start the year.

In good old fashion, you decided to travel down to Anguilla for New Years, just like you did back in 2019 and it ended up being one of your best trips ever.

You were soaking up some sun, laying comfortable on a beach chair and occasionally sipping on the fruity drink Harry provided for you earlier, totally blissful as you enjoyed the moment.

That was until a muscular body that you knew too well blocked the sun for you.

“Enjoying yourself, gorgeous?” Harry asked, in his shirtless glory and wearing just some black swimming trucks.

“I was a few seconds ago,” you teased, “You know, before someone interrupted me.”

“Heyyyyy,” he used his topical fake hurt voice, “That’s not a nice way to talk to your husband.”

You smiled at this, feeling butterflies on your stomach as he called himself your husband.

It happened after the end of the tour and before his infamous haircut. Your weeding took place on your Italy villa and all your close friends and family were there to celebrate your love. It was a beautiful and intimate ceremony that everyone always would hold close to their hearts.

The public and fans still had no idea about it and you loved how much you were enjoying your marriage with that kind of privacy.

“That’s right, you’re my husband now,” you said as Harry squeezed himself next to you on the beach chair, “I can’t bully you like I used to.”

“Mr and Mrs Styles, come join us!” Jeff’s voice interrupted was Harry was about to reply and made you turn your heads his way, noticing that your friends were gathering around to watch the sunset.

“I think we’re good mate,” Harry replied sassily, “Don’t feel like sharing my wife right now.”

Your friends laughed at this, yelling some stuff like “you’re whipped!” and “she must be sick of you.

“You’re mean to them.” You joked, closing your eyes and leaning into him, feeling his hands rubbing up and down your back.

“They deserve it, they haven’t let me be alone with you all day,” he shrugged, making you roll your eyes and look up at him, holding his jaw and rubbing the stubbled skin of his chin, “Besides, an I mean for wanting to love on my wife?”

“You’re not,” you said, grazing his bottom lip with a smile on your face, “You drive your wife absolute mad.”

Harry smirked, throwing his head back at your words and grabbing your chin to kiss your lips.

“I love to hear you call yourself my wife,” he smiled widely, his eyes full of love and glee, “I still can’t believe we’re married, It’s the best thing that happened this year.”

You only smiled, connecting your lips again before Jeff’s voice interrupted you one more time,

“Seriously lovebirds, get in here. You already had your honeymoon!”

Harry groaned as he let go of your lips, standing up and facing your friends.

“Fine, we’ll join you,” he grabbed your hand to walk towards them, “Don’t you hate when lonely people ruin the moment for happy couples?” Harry said to you, making the entire group laugh.

“We’re literally married!” Glenne said, pointed to herself and Jeff.

Harry only shrugged with a smug face, sitting down beside Tommy and pulling you to his lap, laying his chin on your shoulder.

The sun sank lower, painting the sky pink and golden. Harry's arm was around your around your waist and he occasionally placed kisses on your shoulder as you engaged in conversation with your friends.

"This is perfect." You leaned back into him, whispering so only he could hear him, his heartbeat steady against your back and his breath hitting your neck.

"Absolutely perfect," Harry whispered back in agreement, his lips grazing your skin as he nestled closer.

You were starting the year at one of your favorite places, surrounded by your friends and as husband and wife, and you couldn't wait to see what 2024 had in store for your perfect life together

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gucciwins · 8 months

Note

hi angie :) i was wondering whether you could write a little blurb based off an idea i’ve had recently? so harry and (yn) are a new couple and every time they go out (yn) is super conscious of how she acts and what she’s wearing/doing because they’re in public and harry just wants to calm her down :(( i feel like new boyfriendrry would be so gentle and kind :(

hope you enjoy this 2k blurb, sweets 🤍

Y/N really liked Harry.

He was funny, charming, and intelligent. Harry loved discussing the books she was reading and, to her surprise, would go on to purchase them so he could also share his thoughts with her. They were introduced by a mutual friend, stating they would get on well because of their love for poetry. Y/N wasn’t one for meeting new people–let alone being set up but Dezzie promised she wouldn’t regret it. Harry was told he’d be meeting his perfect match, and Dezzie was not wrong. Y/N had been someone straight out of a storybook with her perfect hair and a laugh that made his heart skip a beat every time he heard it. Harry was absolutely smitten.

They started with one date that turned into three, and soon enough, Y/N and Harry were talking every day, trying their best to work their schedule to fit each other in. One time a week was not enough for either of them. With more dates, there was more time together, and before they knew it had been a month of dating.

It’s not been three months since they met, and they’ve never been happier. Harry feels secure and loved in his relationship. He knows Y/N protects him as he does her. Y/N came in with her heart guarded high, but Harry crumbled her walls too quickly, and she knew she had no chance against him, so she let herself go into this relationship with an open mind and heart. Y/N knew that while Harry shielded their relationship, it wasn’t impossible to stop random fans from taking photos even when Harry asked them not to or to be trailed by paparazzi on a date night. Harry did his best to protect her, and Y/N knew he was doing everything he could. Being a new couple and someone no one knew about, it’s as if everyone was trying to find the skeletons in her closet. They were all waiting for her downfall.

Harry had promised her it would die down, but it seemed overnight there were articles of her everywhere, from the shops to every social media outlet. Y/N didn’t actively look for them. She knew it wasn’t good for her, and family members would send them her way. Old high school friends who still had her number began asking to hang out with her. Her parents sent her the articles because a nosy neighbor would text them. It’s as if no one was watching out for her.

She felt it was her against thousands and felt herself beginning to lose.

Y/N had a bad day, and all she wanted to do was wallow in bed, though she had already planned a date night with Harry. She would hate to cancel on him, so Y/N dragged herself to shower and got ready. While Y/N loved dressing up, the article she got sent today was about how outdated her style was and that it all looked well-loved–which meant worn out. Y/N made a decent income enough to keep a roof over her head and indulge in gifts occasionally, but she was conscious about the clothes she bought. Y/N didn’t support fast fashion; instead, she loved trading clothes with her friends or spending a day at the thrift shops with her grandmother, who always loved a good bargain. Today, all her clothing did not feel good enough, and she decided that her well-loved oversized leather jacket and black flares would do. A simple black top underneath when she got too hot in the restaurant. Y/N was lost in her head that she didn’t hear her doorbell. She broke out of her trance when her phone rang. It was him asking if everything was alright.

It would be now.

Time with Harry always healed Y/N because she knew he was worth it. It was still early days nearing the three months of dating, but Y/N knew she saw a long future with Harry. She opened the door and found him with a bouquet of bluebells. Her absolute favorite, she thanked him with a kiss and told him she’d only be a second.

The drive to their favorite restaurant was quick, the chatter about their day making time go even quicker. Y/N always loved hearing what Harry was up to because their lives were very different. Y/N worked in the publishing industry, where she edited manuscripts daily in an environment she enjoyed while Harry was world-known. He was working on his next album, and with no future tour insight, he was available to spend more time with her. Y/N’s family, specifically her older sister, would ask why Harry doesn’t post her online because, quoting Heather, “if he doesn’t post you, he clearly must not like you.” Y/N would defend Harry to her dying breath. Most of her family didn’t realize how much Harry deserved privacy. Yes, he’s a public figure, but doesn’t owe anyone anything. Harry had told her he would if she wanted him to; honestly, Y/N was fine living in their own world with Harry’s closest friends knowing.

Everything was usually good, with Y/N being in public. She’d order her favorite food, sometimes a burger or pasta. It always filled her up, and she’d take the leftovers for lunch the next day. Y/N never thought anything of it, not even when she was with Harry, but fans of Harry began to take photos of them in restaurants. They criticized her meal choices, how she held her fork and even her posture. It’s as if everything she did was something to laugh at her for. Y/N wasn’t the most confident person growing up, but she learned about self-care and respecting herself over time. Y/N grew to explore her fashion sense, began to speak her mind, and saw life with a brighter outlook. It wasn’t until she had what felt like a million eyes on her that she began questioning her every move. Suddenly, everyone had become someone to be wary of, and she hated thinking like that.

Their waiter greeted them with a smile, showing them to a table. Y/N frowned because their usual waitress, Karla, was out tonight. Harry squeezed her hand in assurance, and Y/N knew it would be fine.

“Uhh–I’ll do an iced water,” she smiled timidly at the waiter, not wanting to order alcohol or soda.

Harry looked at her confused but didn’t question it. When they returned to take their order, Y/N ordered a Caesar salad, stating she had a late lunch at work. Harry ordered her favorite pesto pasta and a plate of tilapia for him. Harry began worrying because he noticed she kept looking around and was fidgety with her hands. She kept slipping the ring she wore on her pinky that Y/N got gifted for her fifteenth birthday on and off. It’s a sign she’s nervous. He hadn’t seen her do that with him since their first date; she excused herself to the restroom before he could ask her.

He sits back in his chair confused, until he sees a quick flash in the corner of his eye.

A camera.

It would be minutes before that made its way online. Harry waved down his waiter, asking him to make their food to-go as quickly as possible. Harry stood up to go to the bathroom, needing to check on Y/N.

“Y/N,” he knocks on the door. He hears the sink, but no reply. Harry tries the next one. “Y/N, sweetheart. It’s me.” The lock of the door turns, and she lets him in. He finds her eyes red, but her mascara looks intact, almost as if she had reapplied it. Harry feels defeated. He knows this hurt is his fault, even if partially. “Oh, my love. I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, brushing off his words, “what are you on about?”

Harry places his hands on her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, trying to comfort them both. “Baby,” he sighs. “Don’t have to pretend with me. I’m supposed to be taking care of you can’t do that if you’re not honest.”

Those words are enough to break her open. Y/N sets forward and falls into his arms. She forgets everything outside, all those people looking at her and judging her because she knew she’d be safe here with Harry. “It’s been a hard day,” she whispers.

“That’s okay,” he assures her. “We’ll go home. Make you a cuppa and eat dinner in bed.”

“But the crumbs,” she mumbles, remembering his dumb rule.

“Fuck it. It was a stupid rule.”

Y/N giggles, and it lightens the tightness in his chest. She’s calming down and feeling better. “I only got a salad,” she pouts.

“Got the pesto for you, silly girl.”

Her eyes lighten up, “you’re perfect, Harry Styles.”

“Only for you.”

Harry gently kisses her lips, knowing she’s still sensitive. Y/N surprises him by replying eagerly, but he slows her down with a slight nip of her bottom lip, and she moans. A simple kiss wasn’t supposed to get this heated. He pulls away and sees her pout on full display instead of giving in like he usually would; he pecks her lips and guides her out of the restroom after slipping her bag on his shoulder.

“My bag looks good on you,” Y/N teases quietly.

Harry smiles at her, “yeah, think I should model for Baggu?”

“Only if they let me take the pictures.”

“No work would get done with your pretty face.”

“What’s that mean?” She looks at him with a sly smile, already knowing his response.

“That you are a pretty distraction.”

Before she can respond, Y/N realizes they’ve made it to the hostess stand, where their food awaits them all packed up. Harry slips out two hundred dollar bills and passes them forward. “Have a good night.” Harry walks them to the car, and she’s thankful no one is outside. He opens the door for her and lets her slip in. Harry sets her bag on her lap and reaches around her to buckle in her seatbelt. Y/N softens at his actions because he’s always been gentle and careful with her from the moment she met him. It’s never changed.

“Harry,” she calls for his name softly.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” she tells him honestly.

“Nothing to thank.” Harry presses a kiss on her cheek. Then, he puts away their food and drives them to his house. Y/N turns in her seat to look at him. He sends her a wink at a red light but keeps his eyes on the road. Y/N rests her hand on top of his, resting on the clutch. Harry feels the butterflies return, and Y/N’s touch makes him feel grounded.

Harry knows what he feels for Y/N is not something he’s ever felt before, which makes him want to protect her even more. His feelings are growing, and it’s why he knows what Y/N is growing through is something they have to deal with together, or he might end up losing her. At the end of the day, he will do whatever is best for her. Even if it means Harry not being in her life anymore.

He ushers her inside from the clothes, telling her to get comfortable while he gets dinner sorted out, but she tugs on his hand to stop him.

“Y-y-ou don’t want to talk?” Y/N asked, confused.

“You sure?”

Y/N knows she needs to stop keeping everything tucked inside. She wants to share how she’s feeling because if anyone would understand, it would be Harry. They walk over to the couch and sit next to each other. If Y/N moved another inch, she’d be in his lap. Y/N can see Harry is itching to pull her into him but is holding back. She appreciates it and does the next best thing: hold his hand tight.

“Being in the eye of the public is something I’m sure no one can prepare for, but right now, it’s all gotten too much. I don’t go online anymore because there always seem to be new photos of me. My phone constantly blows up with texts from people I stopped talking to after secondary school. My family sends me photos of every headline, asking me if they’re true,” Y/N blurts it all out. Harry listens intently as she shares how she only feels comfortable around him and her three friends from university. That support keeps her going, but he knows it will only break her down if she continues to listen to everything around her.

Harry pulls her into his arms, letting himself comfort her, but he knows it’s also for himself. He repeatedly kisses her temple as he whispers he’s got her. “Sometimes even the people we love hurt it. It’s okay to take a step back from them.”

“But they’re my family,” she defends. “I can’t.”

Harry knows it’s hard, but he needs her to understand she’s hurting more because of it. “Listen, sweetheart. We can talk to them together and set boundaries, but what they’re doing is hurting you. I-I can’t take that.”

“What do I change?”

“Nothing, you live normally. You can keep everything online private if you want. You’re allowed to live your life. Not a single person has a say in it. Not even me,” he emphasizes. “Your phone number would be good, though.”

“Was thinking of that,” she confesses. “Do you think the media will die down?”

Harry grins, “Of course. We're such homebodies. They’ll forget we even exist.” He kisses her nose. “Together. We’ll do this together if you want?”

Y/N wants Harry in her life. She never once thought of letting him go. “Together.”

“Good, now give me a kiss.” He pats her ass. “We’ve got food to eat and movies to pick.”

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec #harry angst #harry fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles story #harry story

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harryslittlefreakk · 3 months

Text

boyfriends

an extra for late night talking!

summary: a tiny fluffy blurb of harry’s first interview since meeting you, and taking your relationship further 🫶🏼

warnings: pure fluff!!!

a/n: just a little taste of late night talking harry & y/n. more is coming!! i didn’t want to post this just yet but i cannot get the other ones done 🥲

you can join my taglist here! and find much better writing here!!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

harry: it’ll be on in 5 😘

You turned up the radio, ready to hear Harry’s beautiful voice. It was his first interview since you’d started dating, and honestly you were quite excited to see if you’d come up. You hoped you wouldn’t, hating how quick people were to invade his privacy, but in the event that they did ask about you, you were curious to see what he’d say. After the last round of photos hit the headlines people had started to mention your resemblance to ‘kiwi girl’, though no one had really put two and two together yet. After all, with a history of dating supermodels, no one would suspect Harry would fall for a fan. Just as you got lost in your thoughts, the radio host's voice came on, introducing Harry for the interview. Even though the radio, his voice awakened the butterflies in your stomach.

He spoke about the success of Love on Tour, the millions of fans who’d seen his shows, the thousands of lives and people he’d touched. Then, he was asked about his personal life, and you held your breath, waiting to hear what he’d say about you. “And your new girlfriend, am I right in saying she’s a fan?”

“I’d hope all my girlfriends have been fans of my music.” You could almost hear the coy smirk playing on Harry’s lips.

“But yes, she is a fan. Although I’m a far bigger fan of her than she is of me,” Harry told the presenter. You smiled at his words, feeling your heart flutter with warmth.

“You seem very smitten in the photos we’ve seen, can you tell us a bit about her?" The radio host pressed, and you gripped onto your mug, eager to hear what he said. The questions were starting to get a little too personal, and it was totally vain of you, but you were completely giddy. You knew how much Harry liked you, knew how fondly he spoke about you to family and friends, but hearing him tell the world was different.

“There’s not much t’say, really. She’s great, she has a heart of gold. I’m extremely lucky to have her in my life.”

You felt a warm blush creeping up your cheeks. Since his tour had ended and you’d been able to spend more time together, not as Harry Styles and his secret, but as Harry and y/n, your relationship had gone from strength to strength. He still gave you the jitters you’d feel around a high school crush, every touch shooting electricity through your veins.

He hadn’t corrected the host when she called you his girlfriend. Whether it was out of ease or not, he hadn’t corrected her. You unintentionally tuned out of the last few minutes of the interview, trapped in your thoughts. Harry Styles’ girlfriend. You couldn’t get it out of your head, the words just echoing around your mind.

It wasn’t until you heard a key jingle in the front door that you snapped out of your daydream. You were still frozen in place, hands still wrapped around your now cold coffee. “Hi darling,” Harry greeted you as he walked around the breakfast bar. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. You melted into his embrace, never feeling as at home as you did in your lover’s arms. You looked up at him, eyes filled with adoration and longing. “You were incredible, H.”

“Thank you, love,” Harry said, his voice soft. “Got asked about you,” he smirked. “I thought you were talking about your girlfriend, not me,” you giggled, eyes sparkling. “Mhm, you are my girlfriend,” Harry grinned, lifting you onto the counter.

“Were you ever going to tell me that?”

“Telling you now,” he said, planting a soft kiss on your lips. You smiled and leaned into him, chasing his mouth for more kisses. “You can’t just tell me, Harry. Got to ask me,” you laughed, outstretched finger poking at his nose. He looked over your face, grinning so wide his cheeks must have ached. “I want to marry you,” he told you softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Wrong question,” you told him, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Just be mine, be all mine,” Harry drawled, eyes trailing over your face. Even with your unbrushed hair, stained pyjamas and coffee breath, you’d never been more beautiful to him. The early morning sun spilling in through the window illuminated every part of you, casting an angelic glow over you as you stared up at him. “Be my girlfriend, and please don’t dismiss my proposal when I ask you again,” he continued, running his hands over your hips.

"I never said no," you whispered with a teasing smile, gazing into Harry’s eyes. His lips brushed against yours with a featherlight touch, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. It was a gentle and tender kiss, filled with all the love and longing he could muster. Every kiss felt like the first with Harry, everything seemed to stand still as his tongue danced against yours, each movement like a silent promise between the two of you. A promise of love, trust and a future.

taglist: @sleutherclaw @slutforcoffein @harrysolaf @opheliaofficial07 @dragonslayersupremacy @nikkisimps @michellekstyles @im-an-overthinker @fangirl7060 @indierockgirrl @palmettogal508 @thereunion1d @hannah9921 @harryshotpocket @daphnesutton @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @mema10 @annageeeezzzz @cicicavill7 @drewsephrry @tswiftsgf @ashleighsss @bikestyles @he6rtshaker @prettygurl-2009 @softestqueeen

#harry styles fluff #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles masterlist #harryslittlefreakk

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alonetimelover · 6 months

Note

Could I request a dadrry instagram blurb?? That other one was amazing!!! Doesn’t have to follow on from the last one❤️

pairing: Harry Styles x famous!reader

summary: A little instagram blurb with dadrry, a new pleasing drop, and babies' drawings.

masterlist taglist

famous!reader 1 2

——————————————————————————————

pleasing

liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram, annetwist, harryupdates and 1 028 302 others

pleasing Fancy Friends are here and presented to you by our littlest ambassadors - Andy and Franny.

Behold and wait for the posts about all 8(!) new colours straight from our ambassadors' painting room, made specially for this occasion.

Find your pleasing.

view all 89 302 comments

harrystyles All smiles ♥️

yourinstagram My smiley baby!!!! 🥹

harryupdates whhhhaaaaaatt??? ambassadors???

ynupdates some cute babies

hArrysbtch oh my gooood

harrysmoustache i waited months and months for a drop that would cave me... I'm so buying all of the colours

user49 babies for ads?

user84 im conflicted now

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles and 7 202 403 others

yourinstagram rocking that farmer fit

view all 99 302 comments

harrystyles My two favourite girls

⤷ yourinstagram which ones exactly?

⤷ harrystyles No answer will be good

harryupdates weren't they just born?

⤷ yourinstagram that's how it feels! and now she walks

hArrysbtch i hate kids but i love all the clones from yn and harry

⤷ yourinstagram you make us look like a factory or smth

⤷ harrystyles or mad scientists

⤷ hArrysbtch im gonna take a social media break, you're right

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, ynupdates and 10 303 others

harryupdates HARRY and his older daughter at the Pleasing facility today in London!

view all 920 comments

hArrysbtch CEO!harry having a premiere in real life???

⤷ harrysmoustache weren't you supposed to take a social media break?

⤷ hArrysbtch shhhh

ynupdates ceo and ambassador are having a meeting

stylesbabie yeah. I'll be the one to start talking about his back, won't I?

⤷ harrysfan92 i mean, its right there

ynsmybestie taking care of business

——————————————————————————————

pleasing

liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram and 2 002 202 others

pleasing Andy and Franny present you first three drawings that inspired Fancy Friends collection. Pieces are called respectfully: 'Mummy and Daddy', 'Daddy('s) house' and 'You and me'.

'Just, just tell them that they, they all can paint nails. It's funzy!' said Franny while incorporating her work.

Find Your Pleasing.

view all 83 302 comments

harrystyles yourinstagram I love your hand

⤷ yourinstagram it's called perspective

yourinstagram My two artists!!!

annetwist ❤️

hArrysbtch MoMA is waiting for them

harryupdates This. Is. Art.

ynupdates well hello you

——————————————————————————————

harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram and 10 302 202 others

harrystyles 'Daddy I did you on paper.'

view all 103 302 comments

yourinstagram 1:1 perfect drawing with full details

⤷ harrystyles Perfect.

hArrysbtch that's the same picture!

ynsmybestie these babies are spending days and night at that painting room

⤷ yourinstagram I wish. It was a 5 minute drawing cause 'i love daddy and kiwi'

⤷ ynsmybestie ohhhhhhh

ynsmymama melting

harrysfan82 this pleasing promotion is going HARD

⤷ harrysmoustache everything is sold out

⤷ hArrysbtch those babies are making more money than i do, man. that's unfair...

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 4 302 202 others

yourinstagram here's to the best father i know

(yes, i was terrified for the joints to stay in place. yes, babies found this as the best play in the world and repeated ten times. yes, his back looks gooood.)

view all 89 302 comments

harrystyles That's a lot coming from the greatest mother in the World.

⤷ yourinstagram your mum is right there

⤷ harrystyles Obviously, you're sharing the No. 1

⤷ yourinstagram ObViOuSLy

hArrysbtch 'yes, his back looks gooood' girl, you don't need to shout it to our faces

⤷ yourinstagram HIS BACK LOOKS GOOD

⤷ ynsmybestie i love her

harrysmoustache still not used to the fact that he is a dad

harrysfan82 I've never asked: do your kids know you're the Disney Princess?

⤷ yourinstagram they watched Tangled and didn't notice even after my live performance

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles instagram #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fluff #dadrry #famous!reader

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chrisevansonly · 5 months

Note

reader reacting dramatically and crying while going through twitter/ig/tiktok and one of the f1 guys trying to figure out whats wrong and comfort her thinking all the hate is getting to her, but no, harry styles just went bald

AHAHAHA i’m dying lets blurb this😭😭

“NO!!!!!! OH NO NO NO!!!”

came your voice in a panicked screech, sending charles almost toppling out of his gaming chair upstairs

“baby?! are you okay?!”

“NO I AM N-NOT OKAY!! I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE!”

you cried which only sent more panic through charles as he quickly made his way down the steps and towards your position on the couch.

when he got to you he frowned, noticing the tears in your eyes and the distraught look across your face

“hey, hey, what happened…? amour tell me please?”

you sniffled, closing your eyes tightly as you held your phone to your chest, not saying anything

“baby…please let me help you, has someone said something? is someone threatening you..? please tell me”

“harry styles is bald..” you mumbled, too soft for your boyfriend to pick up on it, though he leaned forward to take your face in his hands, his thumbs swiping a few loose tears away

“what did you say amour?”

“i-i said harry styles is bald…he-he’s bald char!”

you watched charles’s eyes widen before he burst out laughing, his head thrown back which only depended the pout on your face

“i’m-i’m sorry baby, i-it’s not funny i promise”

“you’re laughing at me!!”

charles took a second to catch his breath before he smiled sympathetically at you, leaning forward to kiss your forehead

“i’m not laughing at you baby, i’m sorry…i know how much you love harry, but hey, it’s hair it will grow back”

“it will take forever…oh i can’t handle this!”

you let charles pull you in for a hug, holding you to his side before letting out a soft sigh, finally calming down a bit more, yes you were dramatic but harry styles was practically bald!

“so i take it you won’t let me go bald?”

you sat up straight and looked at him with wide eyes

“don’t you dare joke about that charles!!”

the monégasque laughed once again before bringing you back down to his chest, kissing your head firmly

“okay okay, i promise you i won’t shave my hair off…i’d never do that to you amour…”

you were silent before speaking up again

“just so you know this makes you number one now..”

this sent charles through another fit of laughter knowing exactly what you meant, thank god harry styles shaved his hair off cause now he had the top spot, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc x wife reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 masterlist #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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stylesloveclub · 1 year

Text

Pleasing (grumpy h blurb)

In which Harry's acting kinda grumpy, and y/n helps him... destress. :)

+++

Harry’s hand slams onto his phone, muting the blaring chimes of his 6 AM alarm. His head hurts and his eyes are heavy, and the thought of having to get out of bed, get dressed, and go to a business meeting when it’s still dark outside makes his feel physically ill.

He’s tired… beyond tired. Last night had been another one of his annual “In-Chef nights.” He’d been up on his feet, cooking meal after meal from 6 PM all the way until midnight, and had then spent an additional two hours with his staff cleaning up. He’d driven home in the cold rain, and didn’t even have enough energy to change into his pajamas when he got home. He just stripped down to his briefs, and collapsed into his bed.

Running on barely four hours of sleep, he’s feeling cranky and miserable and irritable. The sound of his alarm has been nagging at him through three snooze cycles, and he knows if he stays in bed any longer, he’s going to be running late.

He forces himself to blink his eyes open. He feels gross and sluggish, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles, and letting out a loud groan. The early morning meeting he has today isn’t even one that he’s excited for… he hates the constructors that are helping him open a new Pleasing location in New York. They’re bad communicators, and always make mistakes in the plans that they’ve made. Harry’s a very particular man, he’s picky about the way his food is cooked, a neat freak in his home, and has an organized schedule that he never strays from. So working with these incompetent people, who somehow always manage to royally fuck something up… god it really gets Harry frustrated.

He yanks the blanket off of himself and swings his legs over the side of the bed. His feet meet the floor, and it’s ice cold. Great.

This is just fucking great.

+++

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Harry takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes to calm himself. It doesn’t work. His nostrils are flaring and his eyes have turned a dark, angry shade of green. “I fuckin’ said last week that I wanted gas stoves. So why is there an order for six electric stove tops?”

Ian, the contractor, fumbles in front of Mr. Styles, cheeks turning red. “Uh-um, t-the installation of the electric stoves was cheaper.”

“What did I explicitly ask for,” Harry seethes.

“Err– t-the gas–”

“So what in your right mind made you think that I’d be okay with this?”

“I– well, sir, we just wanted to go with the option that was more affordable–”

“Do you think I give a fuck which one is cheaper?” Harry yells. “For fuck’s sake, I’m running a multi-million business!” He slams the papers he’d been holding onto the desk in front of him and stands up angrily, his chair scratching loudly against the hardwood floors. “Get this fixed, today,” he says before storming out of the conference room and slamming the door behind him.

He locks himself into his office, and sits in his chair, rubbing his red-veined eyes. He’s too tired to have to deal with all this shit today. How hard is it for people to follow instructions? His life would be so much easier if everyone else didn’t fuck up so much.

He sits there for a few minutes with his head in his hands, fingers still rubbing at his eyes to try and soothe away the burning feeling he feels every time he opens them. His head is starting to hurt, a pounding migraine so intense that he can feel his heartbeat in his ears, and his stomach hurts. All he had to eat today was a black coffee before he went into that horrific meeting five hours ago.

Yes, the one hour meeting they had planned had ended up taking five hours instead. He literally had to clear his schedule to fix all the fucking mistakes that they were making. They’d chosen the wrong tiles for the floor, ordered the wrong stove tops for the kitchen, and had designed all of the countertops to be one inch too low… it literally pained him to be working with such incompetent designers.

And now he was behind on his work.

He lets out a tired sigh and turns on his desktop, opening his emails. The bright screen makes his eyes sting, and he has to squint to read the tiny word on the screen. He scrambles around in his drawers and finds his reading glasses, but still, the words blur together and make his head hurt. He bares with the pain, and spends an hour or so responding to emails and filling out paperwork, until there’s a knock at his door.

“What is it?” he calls out a bit snappily, not looking up from his paperwork.

He hears the door jiggle, trying to open but struggling against the lock. “It’s me, Mr. Styles!”

Immediately, he puts his pen down and unlocks the door for his sweet y/n to come in. She’s holding a plate of food for him, and looks up at him with her pretty smile, cheeks warm and dimpled with kindness.

“Hey puppy,” he murmurs, surprised. She hadn’t come in for the majority of this week because she had finals. In fact, she just had her physics final just this morning.

“Hi!” she says enthusiastically, entering his office. “Teddy told me that you’ve been here since 8, n’that you haven’t eaten anything all day.” She looks up at him with her adorable bambi eyes, “How come you’re allowed to scold me for not eating enough at work when you’re skipping meals too?”

He smiles lightly, “you’re right puppy, that’s hypocritical of me.”

“Very hypocritical,” she nods resolutely. “So, I brought you some food! I had Teddy make it, ‘cos I know he’s your favorite.”

His stomach growls at the sight of the fettuccini alfredo in front of him. He’s starving but he’d been way too caught up in his work to think about getting up to get himself any food. “Thank you,” he says, taking the plate from her and picking up her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles.

“It smells yummy, so I want some too,” she says, sitting down on the chair behind his desk. “But we gotta eat it quick, ‘cos I’m supposed to get back out there in five minutes.”

“Thought you weren’t meant to come in today?” he says, sitting down next to her.

“I wasn’t scheduled,” she says, shoving a forkful of the pasta into her mouth, “but then Grace texted me asking if I could cover for her. She got the flu.”

Harry hums, grabbing a tissue from his desk, and wipes off the little bit of white sauce clinging onto y/n’s lips, her mouth full of deliciously creamy and garlicky pasta. “How were your exams?”

She rolls her eyes. “Ugh. Don’t talk about it. So hard, but everyone else said it was super hard too, so hopefully there’s a fat curve.” She claps her hands excitedly, “But at least I’m done! No more school for the rest of the month!!!”

Despite his initial grumpy mood, he can’t help the smile that graces his face. His girlfriend is literally the cutest thing in the world, especially when she gets all giddy and excited like this. She’d been really stressed out and MIA all week because of her exams, so it’s refreshing to see his lively and happy y/n again.

“So proud of you puppy,” he says, cupping her cheek and giving her a kiss.

She twirls a forkful of pasta for Harry and feeds it to him. “Are we gonna hang out tonight?” she asks.

“Of course. Need t’cuddle tonight, you’ve been so busy I feel neglected.” Just sitting with y/n for a few minutes has already calmed Harry down, the stress in his body fizzling away.

She giggles cutely. “Okay baby. We can spend alllll night together.”

+++

The ache in his stomach fades away after finishing the pasta that y/n brought for him, and after popping an advil, he feels his headache start to slowly go away as well. He’d gotten an email that the electric stove tops had been returned and that an order for the gas ones had been put in, so he’s feeling more relaxed about that as well.

He lounges around in his office until y/n is done with her shift, and they sneak out the back exit to head home together. He’s got a one hand feel on the steering wheel, the other on her thigh, and he’s feeling much better than he was this morning when he’d been all grumpy and stressed out.

When they get to a stop light, his phone rings. He thinks nothing of it when he picks up, not even looking at the caller id. “Hello?” he answers casually.

“Er– Hi, Mr. Styles.”

Harry rolls his eyes. It’s Ian on the phone. “What’s going on?” he says tersely.

“Um… so we figured out the stove issue, which is great…”

The light turns green. “Okay…?” Harry says, slightly annoyed.

“So… well– the stove company said that the shipment is gonna take a few weeks, which is gonna put the construction schedule behind since we can’t install the countertops until we put the stoves in, which means…” Harry sighs in disappointment, already knowing what’s coming. “Well, it means that the restaurant might not be ready for the opening date that we’d set.”

“Ian,” Harry’s knuckles are turning white around the steering wheel, and he’s using every cell in his body to keep his voice steady so that he doesn’t start yelling in front of y/n. “When I signed that contract with you, didn’t we agree it would be done in three months?”

“I– yes, it’s really unfortunate–” Ian stammers, but Harry cuts him off.

“I don’t want to hear fuckin’ excuses,” Harry bites. “We signed a contract.”

“Sir, I don’t know what to tell you,” Ian says casually.

“How about we start with the fact that this issue could’ve been completely avoided had you simply followed the plan that we had agreed upon?” Harry’s voice is steadily rising, an angry fire to his tone. “Or how much money you’ve already cost me from all the mistakes you’ve made? I signed a contract and I expect the deadline to be met. It’s far too late to push back the opening of the restaurant.”

“It’s out of my control–” Ian tries to explain, but Harry won’t hear it.

“Jesus christ, do I need to do everything for you?” Harry bursts. “Call the company and tell them the delivery is for Harry Styles! Figure it out with the investors, pay them extra! We will not be pushing the date back, not when we’ve already invested so much into it.” Harry hangs up the phone angrily and throws it into his lap. “Fucking hell,” he breathes angrily.

Y/n sits next to him quietly, her eyes wide. “Everything okay?” she asks timidly.

“S’fine,” he bristles tersely, pulling into his parking spot. He puts the car in park and gets out of the car, slamming the door behind him with such aggression that y/n winces for the car.

Scrambling behind him like a little puppy, she follows him into his penthouse. There’s an angry furrow in his brow as they ride up the elevator, and his lips are pressed together in a frustrated line as he types out a message on his phone. He storms into the kitchen without even glancing at y/n, and pours himself a glass of ice cold water to maybe help himself calm down.

Y/n stands shyly behind the kitchen counter, not saying anything but watching him quietly.

“Just a second, puppy,” he says, his tone impatient and clipped, pushing past her to head into his home office. He dials the number of one of his restaurant’s business partners on the phone, and spends nearly half an hour figuring out what they were going to do.

“I want a new fuckin’ contractor,” Harry rants.

His partner. Niall, gives out a hearty laugh, “I know mate, but don’t worry. I’ll figure it out for ya. I know the guys over there, I’ll give ‘em a ring and see if they can get your appliances sent over any quicker.”

“Thank you,” he mutters gratefully. Finally, there was someone who knew how to get shit done. He hangs up the phone and runs his fingers through his hair frustratedly. His headache is back and his neck and shoulders hurt from being so tense.

Y/n knocks on his office door, and he sighs heavily. “Not now, puppy, v’got to send some emails.”

She steps in, despite the fact that he’s dismissed her, with sad eyes and a pout on her lips. “If this is how it’s gonna be all night then… I’m just gonna go home.”

His eyes snap up. “What?”

“You’re working and being all… grumpy,” she says quietly. “So I’m gonna get an uber.”

“Y/n, don’t be like that.” He looks at her with an exasperated look. “Something important came up, v’got to deal with it.”

“I’m not trying to be like anything,” she shrugs. “You’re stressed out and you don’t wanna talk, so I feel like I’m just annoying you by being here.”

“Baby…” he sighs, rolling away from his desk and getting up to go stand in front of her. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest in a shy, almost protective manner, and she has her bag hanging off of her shoulder, fully prepared to leave. Standing in front of her, he can see the sadness in her eyes. “Don’t go, m’sorry.”

“I know you’re upset…” she whispers, looking down at the floor, “but that doesn’t give you the right to be snappy with me. It hurts my feelings.”

Oh, his precious girl, so sweet and sensitive. His heart breaks a little bit, knowing that he’d made her sad… he’d been so caught up in his own stress that he’d neglected her feelings. He knows that she was probably so excited to come over after having finished all her exams… and he knows that she’s sensitive. She gets teary eyed whenever someone uses a stern voice with her, cries for days if she ever gets yelled at. Of course it would hurt her when he pushes her aside and snaps at her to leave him alone.

He pulls her into his chest, “Sweetheart, you’re right, m’sorry. I shouldn’t be takin’ it out on you, you’ve done nothing but been sweet t’me all day.” She’d brought food for him when he was hungry, was cheerful and lovely on the car ride home, and had tried to talk to him when he was upset… only to get pushed away at the end of the night.

“I wanna stay, but not if you’re gonna be mean,” she says into his chest.

He presses a kiss to her hair, “no, m’done puppy. Not gonna be mean, promise. Please, stay?”

She looks up at him and smiles softly. “Okay,” she puckers her lips and leans up for a quick kiss. “Thank you.”

He smooths his hand over her hair, and rests his head atop her cheek, still hugging her close. She’s warm and smells sweet… holding her in his arms is all he wants to do for the rest of his life.

“How about I go take a shower while you send your emails, and then we can go to bed?” she suggests, pulling away.

He shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. No more emails tonight, I can send them in the morning.” It’s late at night anyways, it wouldn’t make a difference if he sent them now or tomorrow.

“M’getting in that shower with you.”

+++

In the shower, y/n washes away all of Harry’s stress and worries. She lathers up the loofah with the rose scented body wash that she keeps in his shower, and rubbed it all over his chest and back and biceps. She even went so far as to lift his arms above his head and scrub his armpits for him, making Harry cackle at how silly she was.

Then, she took his yummy smelling shampoo and had him bend down so that she could wash his hair for him. She threaded her fingers through his hair and scratched at his scalp deliciously, scrubbing his hair as though he were getting spoiled at the salon. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as the foamy shampoo dripped down his forehead, but she always made sure to rinse the bubbles away before they got into his eyes.

They got out and dried themselves together, standing in front of Harry’s heater in their towels for a few minutes while y/n brushed her hair. He changed himself into only a pair of boxers, while y/n opted to skip on undergarments (it’s very important to let ur pussy breathe!!!), putting on only a pair of thin sleep shorts and one of Harry’s huge t-shirts.

“M’gonna give you a massage,” she tells Harry once they’re both changed, shoving him onto the bed. He chuckles to himself at her weak attempt to manhandle him, but complies easily, settling onto his stomach so that she could straddle his back. She squirts some lotion onto her hands and warms it up between her palms, then rubs it smoothly onto Harry’s broad and muscular back.

“Mm, thank you baby,” he groans. “So good t’me.”

It’s all innocent at first – y/n knows that Harry was stressed out and probably super tense, so she thought giving him a nice massage to work out the knots in his shoulders would be nice. But, of course, with Harry shirtless underneath her, it’s hard for her thoughts to stay completely pure.

Harry’s so strong and muscled… it’s so hot. He feels firm underneath her hands, her palms smoothing over the ridges and curves of the muscles in his toned back. His shoulders are broad and his biceps look huge, even without being flexed or anything. The skin of his back is warm and smooth… so soft and tan. Her mouth waters as she rubs her hands up and down his back.

Her fingers find his shoulders and she kneads them deeply, which makes Harry let out a loud groan. His shoulders are particularly tense, and her little fingers are rubbing the tight knots in them so nicely. “Harder baby,” he grunts, and she obliges. Her thumbs dig deep into the meat of his shoulders and rub in slow, painful circles.

She uses all her strength to massage him. He’s so built, every inch of his back covered with hard muscles, that it takes a lot of energy to really get in there. She has to put her entire weight into her hands and press deep onto his back. Luckily, the lotion made it easy for her to glide over his skin and knead his sore muscles. The groans that he lets out tell her which spots to focus on.

His eyes are shut, eyebrows furrowed with pleasure. It hurts so good. His cock has started to plump up a bit, twitching every time her delicate fingers knead a particularly painful knot in his back. She keeps rubbing him, digging her fingers into his muscles, and the pressure in his cock grows unbearable.

He flips himself around, unable to deal with it any longer. Y/n gasps at his sudden movement, then finds herself short of breath when she settles herself back down on his lap and feels how hard he is underneath her. Straddling his hips in nothing but her little, thin pair of sleep shorts, she can feel him… feels the curve of his cock, restrained in his boxers, and feels the ridge of his tip nudging against her clit. She’s sure that he can probably feel her pussy too, feel every fold and the tiny bud of her clit.

He smirks up at her when her little pussy flutters around nothing, twitching so delicately against his clothed cock. Her center feels hot, keeping him warm while she sits prettily atop him. “Keep going baby…” he says, voice low and dangerous. “M’arms hurt so much, can you rub ‘em for me?”

He pouts up at her, but it’s a mocking pout. He knows exactly what she’s thinking about, and it’s much more filthy than his innocent request for an arm massage.

Nonetheless, she squirts some more lotion on her hands and brings them down to his strong biceps. He’d been to the gym yesterday for arms, so he wasn’t lying when he said they were sore. But also, that means they’re particularly pumped today, firm and delicious… y/n just wants to bite them.

His hands rest on her hips while she rubs her palms up and down his arms, his thumbs tracing soft circles onto the skin of thigh where her shorts have ridden up. She looks like she’s intently focused on rubbing his arms, but really, she can’t stop thinking about the way his cock feels underneath her. He subtly grips her hips and presses her down harder onto the hard bulge in his pants, and lets out a strained breath through his nose. Y/n similarly feels her breath catch in her throat, her hands pausing momentarily as she flutters her eyes shut.

“Feels so good baby,” he murmurs when her hands migrate up to massage his chest, rubbing circles over his swallows and tracing over his butterfly delicately. It’s a not-so subtle innuendo to fuel the fire of the sexual tension burning between the two of them right now.

The hands on her hips start to slide upwards, under her shirt to rest on her warm tummy. He can see the soft peaks of her nipples poking through the shirt she’s wearing. “Baby… show me y’pretty tits, please?” he begs. He slides his hands even higher until his fingers graze the undersides of her breasts. “Had such a long day, I deserve a treat don’ I?”

“Y-yeah,” she agrees softly, taking her shirt off and throwing it onto the floor. She’s left topless, her perky nipple peaking in the cold air of Harry’s bedroom, and her wet pussy pressed firmly to his hard cock.

She continues rubbing his chest with her tits out, and Harry takes it upon himself to do the same to her. He plays with her tits, holds them in his palms and rubs his thumbs over her hard nipples. Still, it’s not enough.

“Come closer, baby,” he murmurs lowly, guiding her forward. She inches forward slowly, back arching while holding herself up with her arms, until her boobs are hanging in front of Harry’s face.

He sticks his tongue out and leans up, attaching himself to her nipple and sucking it into his mouth gently. His tongue licks the soft bud gently, and he hums happily. “Mmm, baby, so nice to me,” he mutters, switching to her other nipple, “Lettin’ daddy play with your pretty tits ‘cos I had a long day.” Hand engulfs the breast that he’d just hand in his mouth, palming it gently while his tongue plays with the other. His teeth skim her soft skin gently, and he starts sucking. Each purse of his lip and pass of his tongue sends a shock straight down to y/n’s center, and she’s absolutely, totally drenched. Her heart is beating erratically in her chest, and she can’t help herself before grinding herself down.

Since she’s lifted herself up to align her tits with Harry’s face, she’s no longer sitting on his bulge, but instead now sitting on the butterfly painted on his abdomen. She presses herself onto his abs, soothing the dull ache that comes each time he hums around her breast.

Her boobs are so plump and plushy, dangling in front of his mouth and covered in his spit. His hands grope her chest sensually, pushing her breasts into his face and letting himself indulge like a teenage boy. He lets them bounce on his face, skimming his lips against them then pulling himself back, teasing himself. He nudges his nose against them, and they jiggle prettily right in front of his face. God, he’s making himself so hard, playing with her tits like this, having them all up in his face. All he can see is her skin, the roundness of her breasts, the soft bud of her nipples. No matter which way he turns his head, he makes contact with her, her nipples skimming his cheeks or his lips dancing against her sideboob.

“Jus-” she gasps when he takes her boob back between his lips and sucks, tongue curling around her nipple, “Jus’ wanna make you happy daddy.”

“Doing so good baby, taking caring of me so well,” he murmurs, barely moving his lips from her skin before reattaching to her areola. “You know what would make daddy so happy?”

“W-what?” she whimpers, pushing her clit down against his hard abs.

“If you got on my cock and got yourself off. Could you do that for me, puppy?”

She nods eagerly and shuffles herself down, shoving Harry’s briefs down. His cock bounces up and slaps against his stomach, the tip completely slick with his own precum and arousal. She doesn’t even bother warming herself or Harry up – the massage and his little play session had gotten both of them 100% ready.

She doesn’t take her sleep shorts off, genuinely too excited to stuff herself full of his cock. Grabbing him by the shaft, she hovers right over his hips and slowly guides him into her dripping cunt. The slide in is easy, absolutely no resistance from how wet she is, and she’s able to bottom out on the first go.

Her hands rest on his chest to support herself, and she starts to lift her hips, up and down, skin meeting skin with every drop down. Her nails dig into his flesh, and it hurts just as good as her massage had. She’s riding him like she never has before – usually she’s a bit of a princess, mostly grinding her clit down and rubbing herself on his cock slowly until her thighs start to burn and she whines for Harry to take over.

Now though, with the way he’d teased her all nice, she’s bouncing on his cock properly, using all her strength to pull herself all the way up, then drop back down. She sets a messy pace for herself, but it doesn’t matter. He’s hitting all the right spots in her, and that’s all she care about.

Harry lies on his back in bliss, her pussy absolute heaven around his cock. Her messy pace and high bounces have her tits jiggling, and Harry pushes himself up onto his elbows to get a better view. “Fuck, puppy, you’re an angel.”

He brings a hand down to rub her at her clit, fingers rubbing tight circles as she grinds herself on him. “Gonna cum baby,” he groans, “Are you close?”

She whines out, and nods messily, eyes shut as she keeps herself going.

Harry throws his head back, and shuts his eyes, rubbing her clit faster and faster until she’s cumming, clenching around his cock and squeezing him so tightly. His vision goes white his ears start to ring, and he’s in absolute heaven.

Y/n collapses onto his chest, and he spurts out long streaks of cum into her warm pussy, balls clenching with every release and his hips twitching upwards, trying to get as deep into her as he possibly can. She lays on top of him heavily, breathing hard with rosy cheeks and a glistening forehead from how hard she’d worked to get them both to their end.

He pulls her up for a kiss. What had he even been stressed about, again?

+++

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 10 months

Note

Hi hun, would you be in the mood to write something about dadrry dealing with his kids terrible twos pls

The Terrible Two’s.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - something about lhh being a dad does something to me i simply cannot describe so enjoy my loves…!

word count - 1.4k

in which, travelling with your husband around europe hasn’t been the most smooth sailing, especially when your daughters currently experiencing her terrible twos.

Faith Anne Styles.

After dating your boyfriend Harry for just over a year, you fell pregnant at the lovely age of nineteen and now both of you are at the age of twenty one and had a beautiful baby girl.

The perfect mix of both of you.

But life wasn’t all that swell.

As you stand backstage at the One Direction concert in Oslo, Denmark ,the pulsating excitement of the crowd seeping through the walls from the support act McBusted.

You watched as your boyfriend, the charismatic Harry Styles, attempts to navigate the treacherous waters of your two-year-old daughter Faith's terrible twos.

It seems that tonight, the tantrum monster has reared its head, threatening to disrupt the carefully choreographed chaos of the concert.

Great timing there, Faith Baby.

You glance around and notice Niall, Louis, and Liam, all observing the situation with wide eyes and amused expressions.

Harry, ever the doting father, crouches down to Faith's level, his brows furrowing in concern.

"Hey, baby love," Harry cooed gently, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of the chaos. "What's got you feeling so gloom and doom, eh?"

Faith's tiny face contorts, her little fists clenched tightly as she lets out a shrill cry. The sound reverberates through the backstage area, drawing amused glances from the rest of the band.

Louis, unable to resist a cheeky remark, leans over to Liam and whispers, "I think little Faith here is giving Harry a taste of his own teenage rebellion. Karma's a funny thing, innit?"

You never knew Harry in his pre teen years, however from the stories that you had been told by his family and fellow bandmates, he was a bit of a cheeky chappy.

And you couldn’t help but think that Faith, at just two years old, had developed some of his cheeky persona.

Before going down for naps, she would negotiate about how she wasn’t tired and then proceed to jump out of her crib, running through the house the same way that Harry would.

If you ever went to the shops or the park, then you would often catch her talking to random strangers as she held onto your hand or sat in her stroller, waving at them and being the kind girl she is and due to her father most likely doing the exact same thing.

You knew your two year old shouldn’t be interacting with strangers but she was just simply too adorable.

Liam chuckles and nods in agreement, but their attention is quickly pulled back to the unfolding drama.

Harry tries a different approach, his voice filled with patience and understanding. "Faith, darling, let's try to use our words, yeah? What's making you so upset?"

But Faith's wails persist, growing louder and more intense with each passing moment. She falls to the floor, kicking and flailing her arms, her cries echoing through the backstage area.

You watched as Harry ran a hand through his shoulder length hair, you could see slight stress lines appearing on his forehead.

He took it exceptionally hard when Faith would be upset, no parent liked to see their child sad but Harry absolutely hated it. He would always sit with her until she felt up for talking and although she was only a two year old and could hardly form a coherent sentence he would nod his head and listen to every word she said.

Faith idolised him.

Niall chuckles, watching the spectacle unfold. "Well, she's certainly giving us a show, isn't she? The drama of the terrible twos."

Tell you about it.

Harry shoots Niall a slight glare, finding absolutely nothing about the situation taking place funny in the slightest,before refocusing his attention on Faith.

He kneels down beside her, speaking softly amidst the cacophony. “Hey, my love, I know it's frustrating. Let's take some deep breaths together, okay? In and out."

But Faith's tantrum continues to escalate. She starts throwing toys and objects around, her frustration seemingly endless. The backstage area is filled with the commotion, drawing curious glances from the crew members and dancers nearby.

One thing you hated was gaining unnecessary attention.

Louis leans closer to Liam, a mixture of amusement and awe on his face. "I never thought I'd say this, but Faith might just give us a run for our money in the energy department."

Liam chuckles, nodding in agreement. "That she does. But Harry's got this. He's a patient one, that lad."

Harry tries different tactics, attempting to distract Faith with a toy or a silly face. But her cries persist, and the tantrum shows no signs of abating.

The band members exchange glances, a mixture of amusement, sympathy, and mild concern. This is uncharted territory for them, witnessing Harry deal with the full force of a toddler tantrum.

Harry's voice remains calm, though a hint of exhaustion seeps in. "Faith, sweetheart, I understand you're upset. Can you tell daddy what's wrong?"

But Faith's words are muffled amidst the tears and screams, her frustration rendering her temporarily speechless.

She continues to lash out, her tiny body wracked with sobs.

You step closer, offering your support. "Harry, maybe it's best if we take a break. Find a quiet spot for her to calm down."

Harry nods, his eyes filled with determination. "You're right, love. Let's find a quiet room where she can settle."

Together, a crew member leads you as well as Harry and Faith away from the backstage chaos, seeking Together, you lead Harry and Faith away from the backstage chaos, seeking refuge in a nearby dressing room.

The familiar scent of hairspray and the faint echoes of music provide a contrast to the storm of emotions still raging within Faith.

Gently closing the door behind you, you find a comfortable corner where Harry can sit with Faith in his arms. The room is dimly lit, allowing a sense of tranquillity to settle in.

Harry cradles Faith, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Shh, my love. We're here in our little haven. Take your time, sweetheart. We'll wait until you're ready to talk."

And if it was up to both you and Harry, you would both wait an eternity.

Faith's cries gradually subside into sniffles, her breath hitching as she tries to regain control, gripping a strand of her fathers long curls whilst the other grips onto the hem of his shirt.

Harry's soothing presence provides an anchor in the midst of her emotional tempest.

You sit beside them, offering a comforting smile. "It's okay, Faith. Mommy and Daddy are here for you. We love you, no matter what."

Faith looks up at you, her tear-stained cheeks glistening in the soft light. Her eyes search yours, seeking solace and understanding. You gently stroke her hair, allowing the silence to envelop the room, giving Faith the space she needs to collect herself.

Minutes pass, and the tension begins to dissipate. Faith's breathing steadies, her tiny frame relaxing against Harry's chest.

The storm of her tantrum has run its course, leaving behind a weary calm.

Harry speaks softly, his voice a comforting lullaby. "Sometimes, my love, we get overwhelmed. It's okay to feel angry or frustrated. But remember, we're always here to help you through it."

Faith nuzzles closer to Harry, finding comfort in his words. She wraps her tiny arms around his neck, seeking solace in his embrace.

The best father daughter duo.

The door creaks open, and Niall peeks inside, his eyes filled with concern. "Is everything alright?"

You nod, a sense of relief washing over you. "Yes, No, Faith just needed some quiet time. She's calming down now."

There was no doubt that Niall was Faith’s favourite uncle when it came to the four boys.

Niall steps into the room, his face softening as he gazes at the scene before him. "You're doing a great job, you guys. Parenting isn't easy, especially in the midst of all this craziness."

Harry smiles, gratitude and weariness mingling in his eyes. "Thanks, Niall. It's a learning process for all of us. But moments like these remind us why it's all worth it."

The sound of music drifts through the door, a reminder of the support act performing still in full swing. The energy of the crowd and the rhythm of the songs pulse through the walls, but in this small sanctuary, you find a moment of calm amidst the storm.

As Faith's breathing evens out and her grip on Harry loosens, you lean in and plant a tender kiss on her forehead. "We love you, Faith. And we're here for you, always."

Always and forever.

For eternity.

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