reblogs.

And there it is.

“Baby,” Harry croons in complete bliss, making her laugh from her belly when he begins to pepper kiss all over her nose, cheeks, jaw in adoration, “I-I am so god damn proud of you. You’re finally mine, pup.”

“You know I’ve always been yours,” She whispers with a more serious tone, wriggling as close as possible - he still smells like his cologne from the night before and it’s intoxicating.

It makes tears prick behind his eyes because he’s always known that but now it finally feels that way as he looks at his strong, empowered, confident fiancée.

“Please let me have you, darling,” He pleads softly, lips brushing more meaningfully against hers this time and his hands sliding down her sides to her hips, “Need to show you how much I love you.”

“You think you deserve it?” YN teases playfully, dragging his bottom lip between her teeth and giving it a nip.

“Don’t deserve you,” Harry murmurs honestly, licking over his bitten lips, “But hope you’ll still let me have you. Give you what you deserve - spread you open, make you drip, make you feel good.”

Fuck, he was irresistible from the low, croak of his morning voice to how his eyes were flickering between her lips and eyes.

“Come on, might as well practice your husbandly duties,” YN remarks coyly, dragging her cold toes across his calves, “Prove to me you’ll be a good one.”

And bingo, YN should have known that was going to strike a chord because Harry's mood shifts dramatically from soft and sweet to rough and predatory as he quickly flips them until she’s on her back and he’s straddling her hips.

Harry gives her a wide, sharp smile as he chuckles deep from his chest, “Oh puppy. M’gonna show you what a good husband does.”

“All talk, no action,” She taunts just to make him bristle before he’s cutting off anything else she’s about to throw at him by putting his index and middle finger to her lips.

“Suck,” He commands, his tone has lost its teasing edge and now he’s telling her exactly what to do for him.

And she just melts so fucking beautifully when she wants to, which she does right now, her eyes become wider, more unfocused, and she whines but opens her mouth.

“There my good girl,” Harry murmurs proudly, eyes darkening as her tongue twirls around his fingers, playfully bringing her teeth down on his knuckles, “Get ‘em wet for me.”

YN does as she’s told, lapping at them as she keeps her gaze on him, wriggling her hips in excitement when with his free hand he shoves her underwear down until they’re stuck around her thick thighs.

He takes his now damp fingers down between her legs, even though she was slick enough on her own before he’s teasing at her entrance.

“Stop teasing,” YN hisses, she always got so fucking bratty when she wasn’t in the mood to be edged at all and it made Harry lean down to bite at her jaw, “Make me come.”

And Harry submits for her, like he always does, shucking off her panties before his fingers are slipping in easily and the right velvet of her walls make him twitch as he crooks his fingers toward her spot.

“I’ve always given you what you wanted, yeah?” Harry murmurs softly, his fingers are moving at a torturously slow rate - making her full and wanting more.

“Always,” YN agrees sweetly, letting her legs spread open as far as possible to welcome him in, her excitement coating his fingers as she tries to push down on them.

“Cut it out, you’re not riding them right now,” Harry scolds with a grunt when she tries to build up a rhythm by using her thighs as momentum, “If you don’t stop being greedy, I’m not making you come.”

YN begrudgingly stops moving her hips down with a narrowed glare and a pouty lower lip that Harry has to bite at until she squeaks.

“There’s my good little wife,” Harry coos because the words taste so good on his tongue, his sweet scared girl - trusting and confident because she knows what she is so fucking certain of what she wants now.

“H,” YN whines, moving down to wrap her fingers around his wrist, halting his motions between her legs until they lock eyes again, “Please baby, need you in me. C’mon, don’t want to be teased, just want it.”

Harry wants to bite her again, make her shimmer down but she’s bossy and he folds to her every single time - the only person on earth who he’d follow blindly.

“Okay, okay,” He simpers as he sits back up, he wants to get his mouth on her - lick into her until she’s teary and hazy but he can always get back to that afterwards.

Despite the fact that he has the urge to grab himself at the base, tease his ruddy head against her clit, smack the weight of it there and just barely push in but he knows he’ll only get pushback from her because that’s not what she wants right now.

Instead, he tucks himself into her carefully even though he doesn’t need to be - her cunt is slick and open for him, giving him not resistant but still snug as all hell around him.

He thinks this has to be the closest thing to heaven.

“Yes,” YN hisses in a high pitch mewl that makes his hackles raise, when she tries to meet his hips to get more movement, he grips her waist and pushes her down against the mattress - stilling her.

“What has gotten into you, puppy?” Harry grits out in impatience, holding her steady and letting himself rest at her opening before slowly but fiercely thrusting into her.

“We’re engaged,” YN whispers almost like it’s a secret as she pulls him down with a hand weaved through his hair until their lips are locking together, “We’re going to get married, have babies, grow old together.”

Harry gasps into her open mouth, his breath taken away because just like the night before it truly hits him again and he doesn’t even recognize that he has tears trailing down his cheeks.

“Yeah,” He laughs shakily, not even able to focus on kissing her, “I’m going to make you my wife, give you as many babies as you want, take care of you until forever. You’re mine, aren’t you? Finally fucking mine.”

Her thumbs come up to brush the wetness away, “You know you’ve always been it for me. Through it all, H. Never have given it to anyone but you.”

It makes a spark of proud possessiveness lick up his spine, nearly purring as he murmurs, “Only one who’s ever going to eat this perfect little cunt, tease it, fuck it. Right, pup?”

The words have YN trying to squeeze him between her thighs before letting them fall open again to reveal herself to him like a fucking birthday present.

“Look at her,” Harry admires pleased, thumb coming to rub tight circles on her swollen bud as he starts a steady pace of fucking into her.

YN gets frustrated because now Harry’s being bossy and she just wants to take control - her orgasm has been teetering for the past few minutes and she wants it wreck her.

She bats his hand away from her, ignoring his hiss of irritation when she scootches up the bed until he’s completely out her - cock drippy with a mixture of both of them, hard, and so fucking thick.

Before he has time to complain, she’s rearranging them until she can straddle his hips and slide right down onto his length the way she wants.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Harry moans out, body melting against the headboard as YN takes what she wants, grinding her hips in deep circles to hit her spot while her clit gets the friction from his pubic bone, “S’yours, can’t believe you ever had to doubt how much it is. Got the sweetest pussy on this earth, fuck.”

It made YN swell with confidence as her orgasm starts building in no time once again but it tips her over the edge when Harry uses both of his big hands to push her tits together and take quick turns nipping and sucking at her nipples

“Oh, yes. Feels so good,” YN mewls, hand coming to cradle the back of his head to keep his mouth working on her chest as she speeds up her hips on him, using him to get her own pleasure.

Harry is so gone for his girl, admires how she has no shame in chasing her pleasure as she rides him - not trying to be sexy or get him going (even though it does) but to find her own euphoria - eyes squeezed shut, sweat beading at her temple as her rhythm is sloppy and uncoordinated as she cries out as she comes.

When YN starts to shake as she slumps against him in the aftermath of her peak, Harry moves to grip her hips, steadying her as he pumps up into her only a few times before he’s letting out his own growl of release before allowing his hips to fall back down to the bed.

In this moment, as YN nuzzles her face into his neck - her hair sticking to the dampness of his skin and he wraps his arms her to keep her tight to his chest - well everything was worth it.

The years of heartbreak, different girlfriends he despised, the tears, the anxiety, the late nights of just holding her through flashbacks, the copious amounts of hours he sat in a full waiting room as she did trauma therapy.

He helped heal her, make her whole again, ready to take on the world - now she was ready to live her life truly with him and it makes him feel indescribable, like his body is too small for all the emotion he feels.

Harry doesn’t realize how long he was wrapped up in his thoughts because what shakes him from them is a light snore from his fiancée.

YN had managed to drift back asleep despite what an awkward position she was cramped into as she splayed across his chest with her lips near his pulse point - safe and satisfied.

He can’t help but snort at how adorable she is as he readjusts her until she’s laying back fully onto the bed and grumbling tiredly.

And Harry can’t be blamed if he drifts back off to sleep for a little while longer.

- later that day -

Harry decided a public place was best for breaking up with Anna, he didn’t want to spend another minute attached to this woman, and so after he woke up once again, he texted her to make lunch plans to end it once and for all.

After she had pushed him last night, put hands on him, he felt any ounce of sympathy that he would have for ending it dissipated from his body - she didn’t deserve empathy anymore.

Anna was truly under a delusional impression, Harry and her had been through some of the nastiest fights she’s ever had with a boyfriend and she always thought he never broke up with her because he was that in love with her.

Never could she have guessed why he had stuck around and how it actually had nothing to do with her, that she was a pawn to prove loyalty to another.

He wasn’t even a good partner, he was sharp, impatient, cold, and unapproachable but to Anna, it was more enticing that she could tell people who her boyfriend was - wealthy, self-made, and extremely extremely attractive.

Harry even picked an small, quaint little brunch place in a fashion district of the city to help aid the harshness that was about to come.

He hoped a nice, busy restaurant would dissuade Anna from having an absolute raging meltdown that Harry was preparing for.

The last step before it’s just him and his fiancée, he couldn’t wait to get this over with, and get back to his love.

“Thank you for asking me out,” Anna starts as they get seated after meeting in the front of the old brick building, “I’m really sorry about how I behaved last night. It was unacceptable.”

Harry inhales a deep breath before nodding in agreement, “You're right. It was completely unacceptable for you to put your hands on me.”

Anna’s brows furrow at the way he chose to phrase his words, she was under the impression that this was just another one of their fights that would be swept under the rug.

“I just pushed you. Don’t act like I hurt you,” Anna bites back defensively, she didn’t appreciate that he was making such a big deal of a little shove.

“It’s not about it hurting or not,” Harry grits out, trying to keep his cool, “It’s the fact that because you were upset with me, you thought it was okay to do that.”

“If you wouldn’t have treated me like that, I wouldn’t have had to do that,” Anna scoffs, easily transitioning the blame to him instead as she takes a sip of her mimosa.

“I’m allowed to have boundaries,” He points out with annoyance, “I wasn’t feeling well and you tried to push your way into my house.”

“Yes, sorry for trying to be a good girlfriend,” She retorts with a tone drenched in sarcasm, accompanied by a roll of her eyes, “Why are you acting like such a baby, huh? Big bad man can’t take a little shove from a girl?”

Harry is desperately trying to keep his emotions under control as Anna tries to demean and gaslight him without even trying to disguise it.

It isn’t even close to the first time.

-

“You need to come to this party with me,” Anna sneers angrily, a bottle of perfume whirling past Harry's head and smashing against the wall behind him, “I’m sick of you being so inconsistent. You need to act like a fucking actual boyfriend.”

Harry feels his heart rate pick up as he looks back to see the sticky, sparkly perfume stain the starch white of the wall - glass fractured and broken on the ground.

“Throwing shit at me isn’t going to make me stay,” Harry roars back in her face, disgusted by who Anna turns him into as a person.

-

“It’s over,” Harry sighs, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I can’t do this anymore with you. I should have ended this a long time ago.”

Anna’s eyes widened, she had the audacity to actually be surprised, “Wha-? Harry, no. No, I’m sorry. I just - stop, you’re not breaking up with me. No.”

Harry shakes his head, praying she keeps her voice down, “I am. I am breaking up with you, Anna. It’s just not working out. I can’t fucking stand you, you can’t stand me. It doesn’t make sense.”

“We-we can make it work. I’ll do better, Harry. I promise, please baby,” Anna cries in a nasally whine that has him clenching his fist from how obnoxious and overdramatic it is.

“No, really. I need you to listen, it’s over,” He’s calm with his words, sipping his glass of water and not engaging back in her fight - letting her act like a tantruming toddler.

It’s just…Harry doesn’t have any empathy to watch a grown woman throw a fit like this over when he’s watched YN go through so much worse with stoic and strong composure.

YN only threw tantrums when Harry teased her too much when she just wanted him to make her come - he smiles softly to himself at the thought before Anna’s crying interrupts it.

Harry just watches as Anna’s expensive mascara runs down her cheeks, dabbing at them to prevent smudging, and she’s giving him these puppy dog eyes.

“I’m sorry, Anna. I am,” Harry lies to help smooth over the situation, “We just aren’t meant for each other. I’m sure you’ll find someone who -“

“You fucking prick,” Anna cuts him off, tears halting with her teeth clenched as fire blazes behind her irises in disbelief, “I knew it.”

Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion until he follows Anna’s gaze to his neck - where no doubt YN has sucked a gnarly hickey onto that was supposed to be hidden under his collar but must have gotten exposed.

“How long, huh?” Anna demands, a shrillness coating her words, “How long have you been fucking that bitch while with me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry lies steadily, he wasn’t going to bring YN into this like Anna wanted.

“How long have you been fucking YN behind my back?” She repeats in pure fury, “I should have known that pathetic girl would manage to make you feel sorry enough for her scar-riddled body that you’d give in and stick your dick in her.”

Harry refuses to argue with this woman but isn’t going to sit her and have her disrespect the love of his life.

“Have a nice life, Anna,” Harry tells her as he fishes out his wallet, placing a few bills down for the drinks and the food that hasn’t even been delivered yet, “Lunch is on me.”

Anna apparently isn’t happy with that though before she’s pushing out of her chair and tugging her purse onto her shoulder.

Before Harry can react, Anna is snagging her alcoholic drink and throwing it onto him - drenching him in a mixture of orange juice and expensive champagne that automatically makes his curls become limp in front of his face.

By the time he wipes his face with the napkin, eyes burning from the alcohol, she’s already stormed off and left.

Despite how much he reeked of mimosa, his gucci shirt was ruined, and the whole restaurant witnessed the incident - he had to chuckle to himself.

He was finally fucking free of that bitch.

It doesn’t mean that she doesn’t attempt to call him, text him, and even show up to his house a few times to no avail to apologize once again.

But those calls, texts, and knocks on the door go unanswered as Anna dwells on Harry, he’s too busy creating his new life with his favorite person on this earth.

- five years later -

Anna had just gotten seated with her parents at one of the most exclusive restaurants in London, her father managed to snag a reservation after a long month waitlist.

Her boyfriend, Todd, had also accompanied them - dressed not nearly fancy enough in a pair of loose jeans, scuffed up dress shoes, and an atrocious teal colored polo.

They’d been together for nearly three years, he hadn’t made any move to make things more serious with a ring or even ask her to move in with him.

He was mediocre at best, dull and liked to ditch her on the weekends to go watch rugby and drink pints down at the pub with his high school friends where they still basked in the memories of being popular over a decade ago.

Anna’s parents like him well enough but she was thirty now, they wanted her to settle down, get married, have kids, and it didn’t look like that was happening any time soon.

She would be lying if she said she’s forgotten about Harry, still daydreams about what their life would have been like together with vacations in Italy, a massive diamond on her finger, a few children with nannies to watch over them as they globetrot.

However, Anna had never heard from him since that fateful afternoon nearly five years ago when she had splashed a drink in his face.

All of their shared friends cut ties with her, Mitch, Sarah, Niall, none of them ever talked to her again after that.

Anna never actually knew if it was YN that she was dumped for, she had just assumed but even if that was so, she’s sure Harry would have gotten sick of her bullshit and left her soon after.

She imagined that Harry was probably switching around girl to girl every night, a different model-esque woman in his bed every night before he kicked them out with taxi fare the next morning.

“Let’s go get a drink, yeah?” Todd asks, dragging her out of her thoughts, “The waitress looks super overwhelmed. We can just order from the bar? Take a look at the view or something?”

It was a rooftop restaurant, overlooking the skyline of London’s buildings - fairy lights sparkling to keep a soft ambiance as the sun set behind the city.

“Sure,” Anna mutters as she begrudgingly takes Todd’s outstretched hand and trails over to where there’s even a wait at the bar but they manage to snag two seats.

After they’re served, they spin on their barstools to face away from the bar and out towards the tables and the view of Big Ben.

“Ma ma ma,” A squeaky, raspy baby voice breaks through Anna’s thoughts - at the table in front of them, it’s just a woman with her back to Anna but she’s holding the baby facing toward her in her lap, “Mamama.”

The woman’s hand reaches up to card through the baby’s insane amount of chocolate curls, Anna can’t help but notice the absolutely beautiful engagement and wedding band on her finger.

“That’s me, I’m your mumma,” Anna hears the girl’s mother humming to her baby, “You're so smart, my little love. Such a good girl.”

The voice sounds familiar but Anna can’t place it, maybe someone she went to school with or did yoga alongside at some point.

The girl is beautiful, her little features striking and baby soft like a cherub, she’s smiling at her mother with only two chiclet teeth onto her bottom row, and the curls in front of her head gathered into a small black bow.

She’s wearing this adorable onesie dress with a scalloped collar, a printed skirt that was definitely Burberry, with miniature Mary Janes on her feet.

“Mamama,” The baby giggles again happily, chubby fingers weaving into her mother’s hair as she brings herself even closer to her parent - the woman welcomes it, sprinkling kisses all over the baby’s glowy cheeks.

It was moments like this where Anna wanted a baby, who loved her unconditionally but she wasn’t sure she would ever give up her full attention to a child and have her life revolve around something other than what she wanted to do.

Anna’s eyes dart to the entrance when she sees someone she hasn’t seen in five years, someone who she thought about regularly still, and the five years have aged him like fine fucking wine.

Harry Styles.

He looks impeccable.

In a black, well-tailored suit with a barely buttoned white dress shirt underneath, a slim black silk scarf wrapped around neck with a cross necklace dangling between his pecs.

He stands tall and broad, his shoulders straight and wide as he runs a ringed hand through his hair as he glances around the rooftop, looking for someone.

Anna thinks he must be here for a business meeting as his eyes search the crowd and for a moment, her heart sinks into her stomach and she swears Harry meets her eye and smiles widely.

Holy shit.

Anna blinks harshly when he starts to stride toward her with a soft grin and waves, she waves back but furrows her brow when his eyes don’t meet hers like she thought they were from further away.

The moment is cut, reality seeps through as that same high-pitched baby voice squeals out excitedly, “Dadadada.”

Anna quickly realizes that the baby is calling to Harry, she’s calling Harry ‘dada’ but then she’s wondering maybe it’s a coincidence and it’s not his child.

However, it’s not, not when Harry steps over to the table and leans down to kiss the woman on the lips before gazing at the child.

“Dadadada,” The infant persisted through enthralled babbles, reaching out and smacking his cheek gently before whining for him.

“Hi pup,” Harry coos sweetly, his gravelly voice sending a certain feeling of arousal down Anna’s spine that’s uncontrollable, “You talking to your daddy? You miss me, darling?”

It was his baby.

As he scoops the little girl up, naturally propping her on his hip and nuzzling his nose into her curls before kissing her temple and then nose.

“Dadada,” His daughter chirps once again, just so besotted with her father as he cuddles her as close as possible.

“Look at you,” Harry praises through his thick accent, rubbing his scratchy cheek against hers, “I missed you so so much. Were you good for mumma?”

“Always is,” The mother responds before she tugs on Harry’s scarf to bring him down onto another kiss, that lasts a minute too long for such a public setting.

“Mm,” Harry rumbles against the woman’s mouth, his hand coming to thumb over her plump lips with a deep fondness, she notices a thick gold band sitting on his ring finger.

The woman turns around in her seat to sift through her diaper bag for a little jacket for their daughter as the light breeze brings a sharp nip to the night air.

When she turns, Anna feels her stomach drop through her stomach and down to her feet, it was none other than YN.

YN fucking YLN, we’ll probably now YN Styles.

Rage, jealousy, envy surges through her body when she realizes her daydreams of them never actually making it together as a couple weren’t true.

“C’mon, your parents are ready to order,” Todd nudges her before sliding off the stool and pulling her towards the table where then she is seated with Harry and YN right in her eye line.

She can’t focus on anything that her parents or boyfriend are trying to discuss as she watches Harry settle down into his chair with their daughter splayed like she owns him in the cradle of his arms, her legs idly kicking as she pulls his fingers toward her mouth to gnaw on his knuckle.

He looks so much the same as he did when they’d dated but just a bit different, his hair was longer, skin a bit tanner, and a few faint lines appearing on his face but barely noticeable.

Anna hated to admit it but YN was gorgeous, she always had been but age and motherhood had done her well as she sipped a glass of sparkling water with a lime in it.

YN lets out a peel of laughter when Harry winces, the baby’s sharp tooth catching him but when he huffs out a low groan of pain, his daughter just looks up at him and smiles before blowing a raspberry at him.

Harry gives his wife a fake glower of anger before leaning down to blow a return raspberry on the little girl’s belly as she giggles wildly at her father’s tactics.

It disgusted Anna how much he seemed to love the baby, his wife, all of the bullshit.

Anna tries to focus on the soup in front of her, and manages to stop staring for a bit until she sees Harry shrugging out of his suit jacket, balancing the baby on his thigh.

The girl is crying, making grabby hands towards her mother as tears streak her cheeks, pathetically whimpering, “Mamama.”

“Hold on,” Harry murmurs to his daughter, bouncing her as uses his free hand to drape the article of clothing over his wife’s shoulder, “Your mumma is gonna feed you, pup. No tears, my love.”

After YN is set up, Harry helps guide the curly haired baby under the blazer and it’s obvious that YN is feeding her - Anna feels another bomb of jealous at what she witnesses.

Harry leaning over to kiss his wife’s forehead before peeking down between her shoulder and the gap between the article of clothing as he watches his baby eat for a moment before pulling back and giving her one more kiss and whispering something softly to her.

That should have been me, Anna thinks angrily, wanting to smack Todd’s hand off her thigh just because, even though he did nothing wrong.

Anna doesn’t stare while YN’s is feeding, feels like that’s weird but as soon as the now full, drowsy baby is satisfied - YN shuffles her into her father’s arms to excuse herself to the restroom.

Now is her time.

She didn’t have a plan, per se, but Anna makes sure the top of her dress is as low as possible to put her breasts on display, hiking up the hem of her dress to make it a bit shorter.

Anna heads towards the bar, strutting right past the table but Harry doesn’t even glance up - he’s eating his dinner with one hand as he rocks the baby in the crook of his elbow with the other.

Shit.

Anna orders a drink before making her way back, can’t stop herself as her hand brushes the back of YN’s empty seat, “Oh my god, Harry. It’s been forever.”

The man glances up at her with a confused wrinkle before recognition flits over his face, almost instinctively he hikes his daughter further into his body, as he puts down his fork.

“Anna,” Harry nods in a tense tone, seeming like he wanted to be anywhere but talking to her, using almost a professional tone, “How have you been?”

“Great,” She lies, leaning over a bit and internally cursing when his gaze doesn’t even drop to glance at her tits, “Is this you daughter?”

She tries to appear nonchalant, like she hasn’t been watching them this whole time.

“Yes,” Harry replies cautiously, “She’s eight months.”

“Oh, nice,” Anna smiles like she cares, “All settled down now? When did you get married?”

“Been married about four and a half years.”

He knows Anna’s mind will be whirring, doing the math, and the shock hitting her, “Wow. Didn’t waste any time. Six month after we broke up….you got married?”

Harry shrugs with almost a secret smile as he smiles down at his daughter, booping her button nose with his index finger, “Yeah, guess you were right all along, Anna. YN really was the one. Isn’t that right, Cleo Mae? Isn’t your mumma the one?”

“Mamama,” Cleo agrees in a serious babble before reaching to bite at the teething toy YN had pulled out for her to chew on.

“Fucking dick,” Anna hisses, falling back into her old patterns like clock work as she scoffs and stand up straight, “That’s all you were, a dirty cheater.”

Harry straightens up, not appreciative of the tone she’s taking in front of his daughter, “Maybe one day you’ll fall in love and understand. Maybe you won’t. You were never going to be able to compete with YN, Anna. I think deep down you know that already.”

With that, Harry doesn’t want to make the situation worse so just like he did five years ago, he pulled out some bills - left them on the table and began to gather their belongings.

YN trails back over to the table, eyes widening in surprise at seeing Anna for the first time in years, and deciding not to say anything at first, rather just swings the diaper bag onto her shoulder and tuck away Cleo’s teething toy.

“I don’t know what kind of shit you’re trying to start but you need to back the fuck away from my family, right now,” YN hisses threateningly as she slips her coat onto her shoulders and stares down Anna.

Anna doesn’t miss the way Harry beams with absolute pride in his wife.

The joy that settles in his stomach with the words ‘my family’ because they were they’re own little happy family of three.

When Anna turns on her heel, back to her own table, she wishes she didn’t hear Harry murmur, “God, you’re so fucking sexy. Let’s go home.”

And that’s the last time Anna sees them.

-

-

"Once Harry finds out he’s going to freak!"

Y/N smiles at Jeff bringing in the cake she ordered for Harry. It was a day before the release of Fine Line which meant Harry was at his happiest. So Y/N and the rest of their friends had planned to reveal her being pregnant at a celebratory dinner.

When Y/N had told her friends she was pregnant, it was completely on accident. It had accidentally slipped out at the bar when she declined alcohol. Of course everyone was happy for her and Harry, ecstatic mostly. They all knew Harry had always wanted to have a child, it was something he dreamed of.

"Please don’t remind me." Y/N playfully scoffs as the camera moves to face her then back at Jeff again who was setting up the cake. "H’s upstairs, so don’t be loud."

"Harry Y/N’s pregnant!" Jeff whisper shouts making Y/N start giggling.

"Shut up!"

Soon guests begin to trail into their Malibu house. Everyone that worked on the album with Harry were present, including his staff on his team. All of Harry’s team loved Y/N so once they found out she was pregnant with Harry’s baby they all cheered for joy.

Truly Y/N and Harry made people overthink their own relationships. There was something about the way they were so drawn to each other, it was like nobody else was in the world except them.

They were in love.

"Harry we have a surprise for you!" Glenne shouts from the kitchen. "Close your eyes!" She shouts once agian making Y/N laugh and stand up.

"What is it?" Harry whispers into Y/N’s ear. She doesn’t give him a answer just shrugs and offers him a sultry smile. "Please tell meeee." He begs his girlfriend who playfully rolls her eyes and covers his eyes with her ringed hands

A huff of defeat came from Harry making people at the table begin laughing. They all were super eager to see Harry find out he was a dad. For sure it was going to be a beautiful moment.

Nobody sees Jeff pull out his phone and begin to record the table at another angle because Glenne comes out with a cake, distracting everyone from the two phones filming them.

Once the white cake is sat in front of Harry, Y/N slowly removes her her hands from his eyes whispering into his ear. "Read what’s on the cake H."

Everyone in the room were on their toes waiting for Harry’s reaction.

"Baby Styles?" Harry reads out what’s written on the cake confused. It didn’t seem to click to him until he saw two small pink and blue duck candies decorated on the cake. "You—you’re pregnant?" He turns to his girlfriend who was standing up.

Right when she nods Harry immediately jumps up and hugs her tightly. Soon Y/N felt her neck getting wet meaning he was crying. She says something into his ear which nobody picked up not even the cameras recording them.

Swiftly he picks her up making her legs wrap around his trousered waist. He was softly grinning at her with tears welled up in his eyes.

"We are going to be parents." Harry tells Y/N making tears also begin to well up in her eyes. Everyone in the room awes and coos at them with the most loving expressions ever. "I’m going to be a dad!"

Y/N and Harry were a great example of true love.

-

"We got you guys a few presents."

"Darling I’m telling you stop buying us things every time you come home. You’re like a tourist!" Anne tells Harry who just laughs. Y/N nervously smiles as she hands two present bags to Gemma and Anne.

Harry wraps his arm around Y/N and gives her a reassuring nod.

His sister and mother adored Y/N. They had always knew he was in love with her because he would stalk her social media and always talk highly about her. Once she started coming around they knew she was going to be in Harry’s life for a long time. And they were right.

Both Harry and Y/N stare at the scene in front of them. Anne and Gemma had pulled out a teddy bear from the gift bags with confused looks. But once they read what’s on the bears shirt immediately they both gasp.

"Oh my god are you serious!" Gemma questions quickly making her way to Y/N.

"Yeah, I’m about five weeks." Y/N tells Gemma as Anne begins to cry excitedly. Once Harry joins the three on the couch the phone camera’s view was blocked by his figure, only cries, sniffles and laughs were heard.

Everyone watching the video knew this was a pure moment. Harry’s mother and sister crying excitedly with his girlfriend about having a baby couldn’t be more sweet to watch.

They were finally starting a family.

-

"Your baby is healthy. Whatever you’re doing keep it up." The sonographer smiles at Y/N as she continues to rub gel on her pregnant stomach.

Harry giggles behind the camera as he points it to her belly where she’s housing their child—their child, he can finally say that and the thought of that made a grin form on his lips.

Their baby’s heartbeat was heard on the machine showcasing a tiny body on the blurry/static screen. The sound made Harry want to cry tears of joy. A baby, he was going to be a dad.

"Next month you will be able to find out the gender, If you would like to." The sonographer speaks up making Y/N shake her head.

"We decided to find out when I give birth." Y/N says as the woman nods understandably.

"Okay great. Then we are finished here."

-

"Hi baby Styles I am your aunt Gemma." The oldest Styles sibling speaks into a camera. She was in a room alone which made the scene intimate. "When I first found out that your mom was pregnant with you I broke down crying. I was finally getting a niece." Gemma laughs.

She shook her head as tears form in her eyes. Blinking hurriedly she swipes her knuckle under her eye. You could tell Gemma genuinely was happy to have a niece, it was like that was the most important thing to her.

Gemma had always remembered her brother wanted a family. It was a thing he had always wished for. Sometimes he did not believe that he was ever gonna settle down because of the life he lived. He even cried to his sister about it.

"Everyone can’t wait until you’re born. Especially your grandma. All she has been doing is taking about you." Gemma laughs wholeheartedly. "Everyone is talking about you. You’re very popular right now." She gushes.

Everyone couldn’t wait for Harry and Y/N’s baby to be born. It was the talk of the group. Harry had even made a group chat just to send updates about baby Styles. He loved to brag about his unborn child, it was already like a personal trait of his.

"I just want to say I love you and can’t wait to finally meet you."

-

"Hello. I’m Anne your grandmother." Anne waves her hand at her phone that was currently recording her. "I cannot wait to finally see you. It’s been a dream of mine to have grandchildren and now it’s finally happening." She grins.

You could really tell Anne was really eager and excited that she was going to have a grandchild, just the way by looking at her she was just ecstatic. It was beyond adorable.

Her son was finally going to be a father.

"I’m trying not to cry but I think that’s impossible for me." Anne says as she wipes her teary eyes. "Now I have Eve staring at me like I’m crazy. But soon she will understand once you are here." She laughs softly turning her phone to face the white and black cat staring at her.

Shaking her head Anne smiles at the fact that just in a few months her grandbaby was going to be born. She was truly overjoyed.

"I love you already, everyone does. Especially your father. All he does is talk about you, mostly brag and it’s the most cutest thing." Anne beams grinning.

Anne couldn’t believe it. The thought of Harry growing a family made her jittery. She couldn’t wait for all the dinners, barbecue’s and brunches with her grandchildren running around. She was definitely going to savior those moments.

"I love you already."

-

"It’s a boy!"

Nothing was being shown, only a black screen was visible. All you could do is hear loud cries come from a baby being born and multiple awes coming from the nurses in the room.

A few people also were heard crying and when they started talking the voice was recognized as Harry’s. "I told myself I wasn’t going to cry." He laughs softly. It was a beautiful moment to hear. A father finally meeting his baby.

"I’m crying more than you!" Y/N giggles before a smooch was heard. Harry had gave her a big kiss on the lips. Soft cries were still heard as the newly parents continued to laugh and sob. "He has your eyes."

"He’s so pretty." Harry says wholeheartedly. "Our baby. He’s finally here." He whispers slightly giggling. You could tell he was excited and trying to calm his nerves down.

It was the sweetest thing ever.

"Do you guys have a name?" A nurse speaks up making Harry and Y/N murmur out a yes.

"Beau Robin Styles."

"Well then, welcome to the world Beau."

-

There was so much light and wonder behind her eyes so with a playful smile, my own eyes turned gold and with a flick of my wrist, I knocked over a few things of garden equipment, the noise causing more eyes to stare.

The child cheered with excitement and with a quick nod of my head, I ushered her along before returning to my full height and noticed the questionable eyes of the Eternals.

“How do they know who you are?” Gilgamesh asked.

My bottom lip caught between my teeth. “Ages ago, one of the villagers painted a picture of Druig and I, as a gift for everything we did for them; giving them a place to live and raise their families. Druig had the picture hung up in the gathering hall where stories of our life together were told every Sunday night.”

“Like a movie night,” Kingo smiled.

“Kind of,” I shrugged, not quite making the same analogy he did.

“Does he still have the picture up?”

I turned towards Phastos and shrugged.

“Knowing him, he probably had the thing burned the second I left,” I muttered to myself.

“Actually love, it’s still there. Wouldn’t want to ruin a masterpiece.”

My hair wiped to the other side of my face as I spun on my heels, the familiar voice echoing in my mind.

Druig stepped towards me, his own shock expression on his soft features. Even after all this time apart, he looked the same; absolutely breathtaking.

The only difference was that his hair was getting a bit longer, which with the Amazon humidity caused it to get a bit poofy.

“Hi,” I breathed.

My body was frozen in place, unsure if I should run towards him in a hug or punch him because I regret not doing it the last time I was standing in front of him.

“Druig, we need to talk,” Ikaris spoke, breaking the building tension.

Without taking his eyes off of me, he nodded. “We can talk in the gathering hall.”

Everyone began the short walk to the building from which Druig emerged from, but I stayed in place. Seeing him again had brought up so many emotions and memories that I wasn’t prepared to face so suddenly.

I felt frozen but hot at the same time under his gaze and I wished I was able to read his mind, wondering what he was thinking.

My fingers shook with nerves. “We should probably head inside.”

“Why’d you leave?”

His question halted my movements.

My lips parted as I stammered over my words, unsure if now was the right time to discuss this.

“Druig, please. We have to discuss something much more important than our failed relationship,” I sighed.

He shook his head. “It didn't fail.”

I could feel my heart jump into my throat at his words and couldn’t help but wonder if there was a chance for us to become one again.

As I went to say something, Sersi stepped out onto the staircase of the gathering hall to urge us inside.

“We really need to talk and can’t waste any more time.”

Giving a small smile to Druig, I scurried past him, his scent encasing around me in a cloud of fire embers and leather.

His usual scent.

Once we were all inside the hall, Druig closed the door behind us, an eerily silence filled the small building. My gaze landed on the large painting that hung above the fireplace and with a broken heart, I took in the love that was painted into our eyes.

The man that painted it so long ago had managed to capture the exact way Druig would look at me when he thought no one was watching us. The small glimmer of love in his eye or the way the corner of his lip pulled up in a smile. Our foreheads were touching, and I had my hands on his chest, a large black oval ring on my left ring finger the focal point of the painting. We were wearing our Eternal outfits; both of us matching in black and red.

We never knew why our outfits matched but we always chalked it up to both of us being able to use our minds as our ability.

Somehow even before we knew it, we were always meant to be one.

“Do you remember the story about how Druig got you that ring?”

I smiled at Thena as she sauntered up to me.

“He paid Makkari some hefty bucks to have her steal it. I don’t know why he couldn’t buy it from the jeweler himself,” I wondered.

Thena scoffed. “Because that ring was one of the most sought after rings for decades before Druig gave it to you.”

“Really?”

“I nearly lost my life when the men found out I stole it,” Druig’s quiet voice said from behind.

“When Makkari stole it,” Thena reminded him as she passed him, bumping her shoulder with his.

He ignored her, however, his attention remained on me.

“Do you still have it?” He asked.

I held up my left hand, the back of it facing him. As his eyes took in the old piece of jewelry, he smiled.

“You never took it off.”

I shook my head. “I never could bring myself too.”

“Then why were you going on a date with some other guy?”

My eyes snapped over to Kingo's valet, ready to wring my hands around his neck for even being here.

I expected Druig to yell in anger for seeing someone else but he remained calm, hands behind his back in his usual stance.

“The guy with the vibranium arm? How’s he doing?”

I scoffed, shocked that he knew exactly who the guy was.

“How did you know?” I asked.

Druig shrugged. “Just because you left, doesn’t mean I stopped watching after you, love.”

I didn’t know whether to be happy that he was watching over me after the split or upset at the fact that he wouldn’t allow me to move on, even if I couldn’t.

The date that I was supposed to go on was the first one I was ever going to have, Druig being the only one I’d been with my entire seven-thousand-year life.

“It honestly wouldn’t have worked out,” I admitted.

Confusion etched in my bones as I felt compelled to tell Druig the truth. I wanted to let him know that even if I was going on a date with someone else, that he would be the only one I would think about.

His mind control never worked on fellow eternals. It was his own charm and love for me that made me always tell him the truth

“I know,” Druig nodded.

I expected him to be smug about the whole thing, but he wasn’t. He was more understanding than I thought he would be.

“Look, I know we all appreciate catching up but we really need to talk about what’s happening,” Ikaris spoke.

Sersi agreed. “We don’t have much time.”

Druig turned to face them as they all sat in the benches of the hall, I opted to stand next to him. With how long we had spent together, I knew that the upcoming news would crush him, even if he didn’t show it.

-

Y/N makes eye contact with her boyfriend who looked happier than ever to get questioned. He was truly not worried at all.

Once he was all set the examiner sat down and nodded at Y/N to start. She gives Harry a grin which he returns.

"So...a few years ago on Twitter you liked a series of Tweet's about me." Y/N tells Harry who groans knowing what is coming next. "How long have you liked me?"

Harry nervously blinks as heat rises to his cheeks. He had liked Y/N ever since his One Direction days and now he could finally say that she's his.

"Erm...since 2013."

Y/N looks at the examiner who nods and says Harry's passed. A grin appears on her lips when she sees her boyfriends flushed face.

"That long?" Y/N playfully gasps as Harry nods sheepishly.

"I've been obsessed with you for as long as I can remember." He smiles making Y/N start to blush.

Everyone in the room awes at the couple. Y/N and Harry were the private type of couple that never shared their intimate moments. Today was really the first time they were not hiding their relationship.

"Next question is....what songs off of Fine Line are about me?" Y/N questions Harry who still had a grin on his face.

"Every single song I make is about you." He tells Y/N who beams at his response.

"He passed." Sam the examiner looks at Y/N with a smile.

"You're really are obsessed with me." Y/N laughs as Harry just keeps smiling at her. He looked at her like she was the only girl in the world and it made her smile uncontrollably.

"That I am." - "Are you ready Y/N." Harry asks his girlfriend who looked nervous.

"No..."

Both Harry and the examiner laugh at Y/N's response. She was now in the same seat Harry was previously sat on with wires wrapped around her hands and body.

Harry was seen with the biggest grin he could muster up holding a few cards that had questions written on them.

"Are we ready Sam?" Harry questions the examiner who gives him a nod in response. "Alright. Y/N on our first date you had asked me what I did for a living. Did you really not know I was a musician or were you lying?"

"I knew who you were I just wanted to humble you." Y/N tells Harry as she begins to giggle at his shocked face.

"You wanted to humble me?" Harry laughs. "Jeff she wanted to humble me." He looks at someone behind  the camera who was also laughing.

"As she should." Jeff responds making Harry and Y/N cackle even harder.

"I'm going to cry." Harry says in between laughs. That was seriously something Y/N would do and it made Harry love her more, if that was even possible. "Okay next question. When you attended the Dunkirk movie premiere with me I vividly remember giving you my jacket then you 'losing it'. Did you really loose it?"

"Oh…yeah. I honestly think I left it in the theater." She furrows her brows thinking.

"She’s telling the truth." Sam speaks up as she looks at the computer that was mothering Y/N’s heart rate.

"Hmmm. Who is your favorite One Direction member?" Harry asks his girlfriend who shakes her head smiling.

"I don’t know. Uh….Niall?"

"And we are done with the interview. Byeeeee." Harry turns to look at the camera trying to keep a straight face but he immediately starts to laugh. "I am so offended right now."

COMMENTS

harryfan2

they are seriously made for each other

216k likes 72k replies

harryfan5 the way y/n always makes harry blush

207k likes 61k replies

harryfan7 crying, throwing up, sliding down the wall

195k likes 93k replies

harryfan9 my parents 💞

187k likes 78k replies

harryfan11 he is so happy with her omg

152k likes 45k replies

-

READ IT ON WATTPAD

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 102k

⚫️ PART ONE

⚫️ PART TWO

⚫️ PART THREE

⚫️ PART FOUR

⚫️ PART FIVE

⚫️ PART SIX

⚫️ PART SEVEN

⚫️ PART EIGHT

⚫️ PART NINE

⚫️ PART TEN

⚫️ PART ELEVEN

⚫️ PART TWELVE

⚫️ PART THIRTEEN

⚫️ PART FOURTEEN

⚫️ PART FIFTEEN

⚫️ PART SIXTEEN

⚫️ PART SEVENTEEN

EXTRA BLURBS

READ IT ON WATTPAD

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 102k

⚫️ PART ONE

⚫️ PART TWO

⚫️ PART THREE

⚫️ PART FOUR

⚫️ PART FIVE

⚫️ PART SIX

⚫️ PART SEVEN

⚫️ PART EIGHT

⚫️ PART NINE

⚫️ PART TEN

⚫️ PART ELEVEN

⚫️ PART TWELVE

⚫️ PART THIRTEEN

⚫️ PART FOURTEEN

⚫️ PART FIFTEEN

⚫️ PART SIXTEEN

⚫️ PART SEVENTEEN

EXTRA BLURBS

-

She’ll never forget the first time she witness the hurricane that was him.

Heather was sat behind her computer, typing away an email to her supervisor about a missing document when the door of the office swings open.

Her eyes widen substantially when she realizes it’s her boss, it’s hard to imagine a man worth over a billion dollars standing in front of her.

He’s wearing a black suit with a light grey shirt underneath, his hair was perfectly styled, and she couldn’t help but glance down at the wedding ring on his finger.

Heather often wondered what his wife was like, most likely spending her days shopping in Soho with a Hermès bag in her arm or eating brunch with other rich women while nannies watches their children - if they had any.

She couldn’t help but imagine overfilled lips and a thick layer of foundation, possibly a boob job with her breasts bursting over the dress she’d be wearing.

Heather had never spoken to Harry directly, tried to stay on his good side which means not bothering him literally ever.

“Where is Jerry?” Harry demands in a loud tone, no pleasantries or even a welcoming greeting as he enters the room.

“Er, uh. I think he’s filing audit receipts on the third floor right now,” Heather stumbles over her words as his moss green eyes glare at her.

“You think or do you know? I’m not going to be happy if I waste m’time going down there to see - if you just think he’s there,” Harry replies cooly, shoulders broad and tense - he was the picture of intimidating.

“I-I can call him and check?” Heather asks dumbly, her eyes as wide as saucers and listen, she was a married woman but god damn - he was unfairly sexy.

“Please do,” Harry replies with a sharp edge, his hand rifling in his pocket for his cell and Heather swears she sees children on his lock screen.

When the phone call confirms that Jerry is where Heather thought he’d be, she hangs up and tells him, “Yes. Third floor, Mr. Styles.”

Harry doesn’t spare her another glance or a thank you, just turns on his heel and strides out of the office without any common courtesy.

“Dick,” She mutters under her breath as she gets back to her task at hand.

-

The first run in was nearly two years ago and her life has changed so much - not for the better either and the last thing she wanted to do was be in his office but she knew she had to try.

She waits for nearly thirty minutes until the large chestnut door opens and Harry appears in the doorway with a bored expression on his face, “Ms. Derik?”

“Um, yes. Hi,” Heather stands up a bit too fast, smoothes out her skirt and follows him into the office with wobbly legs.

Harry sits behind his desk, pushing aside a few papers, and opens a file with her information that his secretary must have gotten him.

“What can I help you with today that your direct supervisor at our Human Resources department couldn’t?” He’s annoyed, like Heather is wasting his very valuable time, and it makes her feel even worse about this.

“I tried-I tried to go to Jerry and then to HR but…they both declined my request. I was just hoping you could reconsider,” Heather’s voice is shaky, she didn’t want to cry in front of this man.

Her boss plucks a paper out of the folder, eyes darting along it to read over her formal request, he looks up and asks, “A request for family leave for two to three months, is that correct?”

Heather nods, tears already streaming down her face, she couldn’t afford to lose this job but she needed to be with her daughter.

“Do you know why it was denied?” Harry sounds curious, like he didn’t know that answer to it either not if he was upset at the actual request.

“Ye-yes, I’m the only one in the department right now who knows how to properly audit expense receipts beside Jerry,” She replies honestly, it was the majority of her job.

“Hmm,” Harry hums, gaze moving from the page to her - his eyes trace her face, observing her tears and overall sad demeanor, “I’ll approve you for three months of paid leave. If you need an extension, please just request it from my secretary.”

And….Heather just starts crying harder, sobbing even, a major relief off her shoulders because it was one of her biggest stressor - she’d been having awful anxiety since her requests had gotten denied last week and he said it would be paid.

Harry doesn’t say anything but places a tissue box in front of her and she whispers ‘thank you’ before snagging one to dry her tears.

“I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Styles,” Heather tries to pull it together but she’s struggling fiercely in front of a man who doesn’t appear to have any sympathy for others but right now, unless she’s imagining it, he’s looking at her with concern, “My daughter is four, she just got diagnosed with Leukemia two weeks ago and she’ll be staying at the hospital for a few months for treatment.”

He stops for a second like the mere thought is too overwhelming before he continues, “I have three daughters of my own and I couldn’t imagine the pain you must be going through.”

Heather can’t help but give him a watery smile, nodding towards the picture of three little girls - she had just noticed, “Is that them?”

Harry lets a small grin creep up on his face, fondness leaking through his words, “Yes. Ivy, Willow, and Magnolia. They’re five, two, and 11 months.”

Heather pulls up a picture of her own daughter, “This is Sophie. She just turned four about three months ago.”

“She’s beautiful,” Harry nods, face becoming stonier again but not unkind, “Again, please come to me directly if you need anything during this difficult time.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles,” Heather says again before gathering her briefcase and leaving so that she can go be with her baby.

It was a short walk to the train but her mind was reeling, he had kids? Adorable, happy ones of the picture were anything to go by.

It was nearly impossible to imagine Harry Styles as a father to three precious girls or that he would have even wanted children.

Heather found it heartwarming that he sympathized so much with her as it truly was a parent’s worst nightmare for their child.

-

It was around six in the evening, Heather, her husband - Josh, and Sophie were lounging in the hospital room - she had been here for nearly a month already and treatment was tolling.

Sophie’s gorgeous raven locks had fallen out and she was permanently with a beanie on her head to keep her warm - she was paler and more tired with the chemotherapy but she was a warrior.

A nurse knocks on their door, speaking quietly, “You had some visitors. May I let them in?”

Heather glances at her husband with confusion, she wasn’t expecting anyone and she didn’t think her husband was either - their family was set to visit tomorrow.

“Sure?” Heather responds with a furrowed brow, assuming that it was a family member that wanted to pop in.

And she was utterly shocked when the man that appears is none other than her boss, fucking Harry Styles, and she can tell her husband is taken aback because even though he’s never met him - the man is plastered over the Forbes and Business Today covers religiously.

As if she couldn’t be more taken aback, a gorgeous woman is stepping into the room behind him - Heather knew this must be his wife but she wasn’t anything like she’d imagined previously.

She was drop dead gorgeous, of course, but in a natural way where you could tell she barely had put any makeup on and that her body was natural.

Harry was dressed in one of his typical tailored suits, he must have just got off of work, and YN was dressed casually with no loud name brand logos or that Hermès notion she’d conjured up.

Heather's focus then shifts because Harry has a toddler propped on his hip who looks nothing like her father with fiery red curls and freckles spattered across her cheeks.

YN had a baby sling across her chest with a curious little baby peeking over the fabric with a pacifier tucked tightly between their full lips.

Beside Harry, grasping tightly onto his ring hand was a curly brunette who couldn’t be anyone else’s but Harry’s - she was a copy of her father as she nervously buried her face in his thigh.

“Mr-Mr. Styles,” Heather stutters in bewilderment, her husband as well as her standing up as royalty just strutted into the room.

“Harry,” He corrects softly, his eyes sad and sympathetic as he spots Sophie who’s sitting up with a teddy in her arms, “This is my wife, YN.”

YN steps forward to put out her hand and as she’s about to speak, the curly headed girl interrupts, “M’Vee, that’s Low, and that’s Noli.”

“Ivy, Willow, and Magnolia,” YN corrects, gently shaking her hand and Heather cannot help but ogle the massive diamond sitting on her finger.

“It’s ni-nice to meet you,” Heather gulps, relaxing only a bit when her husband's arm wraps around her waist tightly in support.

For a moment, she has the irrational fear that Harry came to her to fire her but she quickly rules that out as a possibility.

“We just came to visit,” Harry says in his low rasp, “We wanted to see how you guys were doing and our daughters wanted to meet Sophie and bring her some gifts.”

That’s only when Heather notices Ivy holding a gift bag as well as YN has one on her arm - beautiful shimmery gold packaging with tissue paper and extravagant bows.

Ivy has no hesitation, confident in her small strides just like her father as she makes her way to the hospital bed to place the bag there.

“I picked this out myself,” Ivy informs Sophie with a baby-toothed smile before squirming up to sit on the bed next to the girl.

“Ivy Elizabeth,” Harry murmurs just above a whisper, his empty hand having traveled to cup the back of his wife’s neck with an affectionate squeeze, “Use your manners, please.”

The deep irony of Harry telling someone else to use manners was not missed by the employee and she had to bite down a laugh but it was so sweet to see how bonded he was to his family.

“M’Ivy, can I sit next to you?” The girl asks despite already sitting next to Sophie who has a hesitant but excited smile on her face.

“Yes,” Sophie squeaks out, a bit taken aback by how forward her new friend was but not in a bad way - just different.

“Open it, I went with my mumma to pick it out,” Ivy informs her with an anticipatory smile as she shuffles the bag onto Sophie’s lap.

Sophie carefully takes out the wrapping tissue before pulling out the box - it was a new, popular toy that she’d seen on commercial from her hospital television but hadn’t asked her parents for because she knew they were stressed out.

“Wow, what do you say?” Heather prompts with a warm smile from where she’s standing, she had known Sophie had wanted that toy.

“Thank you,” Sophie replies with excitement nearly brimming over as with the energy she has starts to disassemble the packaging with Ivy’s help before the get right into playing.

All the adults watch the children play, Harry places his wobbly middle daughter on the linoleum so that she can toddle over to the other girls.

“I hope you don’t mind us stopping by,” YN addresses the family with a soft, unsure smile as she nods towards the girls, “We just wanted to show our support.”

Heather swallows harshly, holding back tears, “I…I am very appreciative. Sophie has been here for a while and hasn’t had any interaction with children around her age. It’s nice to see her smile.”

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through,” YN nearly whispers, eyes wet as she watches Ivy hand Sophie a doll.

Harry is silently watching, not saying anything but his demeanor isn’t intimidating or scary - for once he’s radiating calmness and reassurance as he squeezes his wife’s hip.

“She’s on the brighter side, things are looking good. The doctors are confident that the chemotherapy will do the trick,” Heather’s husband respond, holding his wife close to his side.

“That’s amazing,” YN smiles beautifully, rubbing Noli’s back through the sling but the infant is much more curious about Heather.

Heather thinks the baby looks like a perfect mixture of both of her parents, maybe with a bit of uniqueness.

It was interesting that the middle daughter looked absolutely nothing like either parents or her sister but to be fair, Sophie didn’t really resemble either of them.

YN notices Heather watching Magnolia, “Do you want to hold her?”

Heather unthinkingly glances at her boss, who doesn’t say anything except he moves to wriggle the baby out of the carrier. He pops the binkie out from her mouth and murmurs, “C’mon, chatty. Know you want to talk.”

“Dadadada, mumm,” She babbles instantly with a throaty baby giggle as Harry can’t help but let a little smile break his blank expression.

“Thatta girl, nearly talk as much as your mumma, hmm?” He teases, giving his wife a devious smirk when she pinches the meat of his hip.

Heather learns a lot that night about the family. She can’t get over how absolutely down to earth her other boss, technically speaking, was.

Harry wasn’t a completely different person outside of work but Heather could clearly see how much he adored his family and that he treated them much differently than employees.

It was obvious in how Willow ran to him when Ivy snatched a toy with fat tears dribbling down her cheeks and he tittered at her before bringing her back to play.

How Magnolia cooed like a baby bird at him as she lounged in Heather then YN’s arm, between cuddling into her mum to making sure her dad was still there every few minutes.

Ivy rubbing her eye and leaning on Harry as he talks to her husband, mumbling that she’s sleepy and if she can have a sleepover with Sophie because she’s having too much fun.

Then YN and Harry had to pull Ivy aside when she started to have a meltdown when she realized that she wasn’t going to be able to stay.

“That’s our cue to leave,” YN laughs as Harry hikes Ivy as she wraps her arms around his neck and whimpering unhappily.

Heather encourages them to come back whenever and exchanges numbers with YN before helping her situated Magnolia back into the sling and taking Willow’s hand in hers.

Harry pulls a folder from the gift bag they brought and hands it to Heather, “Thank you for the hardwork you’ve put in at the company. I approved your FMLA as we discussed.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles,” Heather breathes out nervously accepting the folder and waving them out until the brood disappears from sight.

As soon as they’re alone, Josh wonders outloud, “I thought you already brought home that paperwork. You were approved for three months, right?”

Heather was just as confused, “That’s what I thought too?”

She opens the folder to see paperwork approved for a year of family leave, however, she knew logically she couldn’t afford to be out of work for a year and she doubted that it would be paid.

However, reading further, she slaps a hand over her mouth when she realizes it is fully paid with her benefits still in tacked.

As her hands shake, an envelope tucked behind the sheet of paper flutters to the ground - nondescript with nothing on it.

Curiously, Josh slides his finger under the paper, and rips it - his hands shaking as he realizes that he’s pulling out a check.

It’s not from Styles Marketing & Co, no, it’s from Harry and YN’s personal account with a sum of money that wasn’t a really number they could wrap their heads around.

Heather and Josh just hold each other as they whisper about how they’re not going to have any medical debt or take out loans to afford being off work.

Harry hadn’t just blessed them with money, he blessed them with precious time with their daughter without anxiety so they can be completely present for her.

🌻 A Year Later 🌸

Sophie and Ivy had developed a strong friendship. YN brought her daughters to visit the hospital at least twice a week and then to visit in home as she recovers from all her intense treatments.

Despite having been over the Styles house - well cross that, their estate and spending a lot of time together - she hasn’t had the chance to see Harry.

Heather had thanked YN profusely and requested she pass on the message which she agreed to do but assured her that it was not a big deal.

On the first day back to work, with a cancer free daughter back in school and thriving, she feels on top of the world.

At near noon, she manages to coerce his secretary into letting her pop into his office where he’s sat like the year prior with an intense gaze of his screen.

“Mr. Styles,” Heather is nervous, her heart is beating in her throat but she’s not scared - she actually feels confident.

“Yes? How can I help you?” He replies, just as terse and formal as ever but his green eyes meet her with no hostility.

“I just wanted to thank you, in person, for what you did for our family,” She says a bit breathlessly, a sincere smile on her face.

Though his expression doesn’t move an inch, she can tell he’s a bit uncomfortable - he nods his head at her but doesn’t say anything else.

She knew what was hiding under that rough exterior and so she didn’t feel slighted or ignored by his silent nod.

She’d already seen a crack in his armor.

All he says is, “Have a nice day.”

Heather returns the nod and turns on her heel, Harry Styles fooled a lot of people but not her anymore.

(It didn’t hurt that YN had accidentally let it slip that after their first visit to the hospital, Harry gathered all their daughters up and cuddle them in bed for hours straight, letting YN know his fears and how he couldn’t survive anything ever happen to them).

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harrystyles Love On Tour. Sacramento, CA.

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harryfan1 BEST NIGHT EVER

jefezoff 🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻

yourinstagram i like yrrahseltys better tbh

harryfan2 MY BABYYYY

gemmastyles ❤️❤️

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pillowpersonpp Auntie gifts @yourinstagram 🧸💖

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harryfan1 SO CUTE

yourinstagram MY LITTLE BOY

yourinstagram why do i have a lot of following request from harry fans

↳ glenne_azoff 😂😂 welcome to the club

harryfan2 ahh that’s so adorable

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yourinstagram i also take self timer pics when baby is sleeping

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yourbff i’m looking

glenne_azoff 😍😍

yrrahseltys We have a date

↳ yourinstagram exactly.. hurry tf up

yourbrother Well seems like you’ll have a good night tonight

↳ yourinstagram please gtfo

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harryupdates Harry out and about tonight !

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harryfan1 BABYYY

harryfan2 his takeout bag is so cute

harryfan3 aren’t we going to talk about the girl with him

↳ harryfan1 i wonder who that is

harryfan4 huh okay 👀👀👀

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yrrahseltys Night out

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pillowpersonpp 💖💖💖

jefezoff Once again, you make me nervous when you post here

↳ yourinstagram i made him triple check that he was in the correct account

↳ yrrahseltys 🙄🙄🙄

yourinstagram aww your finsta is like a fanpage of me

↳ yrrahseltys Whatever you say Nanny

“Alright, I’ll bite. Go ahead, Plato.”

“Perfect. So with all of this in mind, what’s the one aspect that’s always naturally linked to love? Sex. Life depends on it, happiness comes from it, and it never loses its appeal. Civilizations that span across all of time have had different cultures, languages, customs, and circulated different continents, but the one thing that connects them all is that sex has always been held to a crucial standard. There’s hieroglyphics depicting smut on the walls of pyramids, there’s dicks engraved into the pavement in Roman cities, there’s naked angels painted onto the domes of cathedrals, there’s ancient Chinese art that’s basically just straight porn, Donatien Alphonse François wrote detailed erotica about his bdsm fantasies back in the 1800s, Catherine the Great commissioned furniture whittled into erotic scenes and genitalia— it’s everywhere. It’s always been a way to express some of the most important human emotions a person can experience: romance, passion, and power. Romance is obvious— it’s used as a gateway to connect your heart to someone. Passion is, too— you use sex as a way to perform what you can’t put into words. Power is the most fascinating one— sex is a way to express dominance, or give trust, or hold control, so when you strip it down to its core, it can be seen as an exchange of power. Despite the changes that humans have undergone over thousands of years, the habits and practices that pertain to sex have remained nearly the same. I think that type of timelessness and resilience is very beautiful, and it should be studied more often.”

That’s all it takes for you to get hooked on him. He’s smart, witty, kind, and well-spoken. He has ambition, drive, and philosophical diligence. He stimulates every curiosity you have, and if the way he glances down at you with a faint suggestive glint in his rosemary eyes is any indication, you seem to be stimulating his curiosity quite a bit, as well. You chat for a while longer, and by the time you decide to head home, the rain has long passed to the point where the pavement is dry. He offers to drive you the rest of the way to your apartment since his own is in route, and as you’re getting out of his passenger’s seat and turning around to thank him, you’re met with a scrap of laminated paper cradled towards you in his outstretched hand.

It appears Harry— you’d caught his name from the nametag that had been stapled to his sweater vest— has ripped off the corner of a museum brochure from the stack he keeps in his backseat, and when you take a closer look, his phone number is scribbled across its expanse in messy cursive handwriting. He shrugs his eyebrows playfully (perhaps you detect a bit of hope in his expression, as well) and uses the knuckle of his forefinger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose almost nervously. “If you ever wanna talk more about the philosophical implications of sex rituals, here’s where you can reach me. Only if you’re comfortable, of course.”

You end up getting coffee that Friday evening, and the more you talk and unravel his brain, the more unbelievably attractive he becomes. He’s easy on the eyes already, that much is ridiculously obvious; he has shiny chestnut curls, dimples that carve into his tinted cheeks when he laughs, defined cheekbones and a chiseled jaw, his irises remind you of raw emeralds, and he’s lean and broad in a way that isn’t overwhelming. But aside from his perfect physique, he’s intelligent, self-assured, and clever, yet he doesn’t come off as arrogant or condescending. And he doesn’t mansplain his knowledge, either. He listens to your takes on certain topics with patience and devotion, he compliments your way with words, and he tells you he really enjoys learning through you because, “your opinions and explanations are so elaborate, yet you express them so easily. Like, they’re complex, but you’re so confident in what you’re saying that it comes off really well. And the way you hold yourself when you speak— your brows kinda scrunch a bit when you’re thinking, and you gesture a lot with your hands, and you chew on your bottom lip when you’re analyzing something. It keeps me engaged; I like it.”

“Thank you. I think.” You laugh lightly as you set down your French vanilla latte, tapping your nails distractedly against the ceramic cup. You need somewhere to dispose of all the jitters he’s giving you, and drumming on your drink is the best outlet you have at the moment. “I’ve never had someone compliment me like that before.”

He gives you a cheeky grin over the rim of his coffee mug, humming smugly through the motion as the steam from the liquid fogs up the bottom portion of his glasses slightly. “S’kinda hot, not gonna lie.”

“My brain?”

“You in general, love.”

You can’t stop yourself from inviting him over that night after your date, but much to your surprise, he declines the offer. Apparently, he has a four date rule when it comes to getting intimate with someone. He explains that he does this in order to see if whatever they’re kindling is worth the effort, and you can respect that. It’s a mature state of mind, honestly— it’s a way to avoid getting ghosted or strung along, and that’s admirable and responsible. It’s not often you find a man who so readily turns down sex on the first date, and even though it’s somewhat startling, it’s oddly refreshing.

But you refuse to let Harry know that. His ego isn’t overgrown, but it’s there nonetheless, and you refuse to feed it out of jesting spite. “I mean, I never implied I wanted to have sex with you. I just invited you over for a glass of wine.”

He leans back against his car door, crossing his ankles nonchalantly and folding his strong arms over his sturdy chest, quirking his brows slyly as his lips twitch knowingly. You can see the definition of his muscles even through the thick fabric of his sweater. “We both know that’s just some cordial bullshit on behalf of societal norms. It’s a way of asking to get into someone’s pants without saying it outright.”

“Maybe to you.” You argue stubbornly, taking the spot beside him and copying his posture, craning your head back to gift him a deadpan expression. “I genuinely just wanted to continue our conversation about the ethical boundaries of genetic cloning.”

He gazes down at you with his tongue pressed along the inside of his cheek, his sharp jaw on full display as his eyes go half-lidded with sultry intentions. He’s so fucking fit, and the entrancing scent of his vanilla and tobacco cologne isn’t helping your pride at all. “Whatever you say. All I know is that you’re definitely interested in some genetic material, and I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with Dolly the Sheep.”

Your mouth drops open at his taunting— and perhaps accurate— dig, a sound of insulted astonishment choking out of your throat. You shove at one of his biceps as hard as you can, though his strength allows him to hardly budge even an inch. “Oh, fuck off.”

He giggles boyishly at your petty reaction, nudging you with his elbow teasingly just to ride on your last nerve. He bats his lashes down at you in mild amusement, leaning in close and murmuring his words in a thick, deep voice that’s much lower than his usual tenor. It sends flames racing across the pit of your stomach. “Four dates. That’s all I’m asking.”

You lick your lips carefully, and it takes all your willpower to not glance down at his plush mouth. Your question comes out as a whisper, and you’re not sure why. Maybe it’s the way he’s looming over you dominantly while waging your own desires against you, or the way his eyes are gleaming in the warm lighting that pours out from the large glass walls of the café you’d just left, or the way he’s blinking at you all slow and tempting, urging you to make some sort of move and prove his infuriating point.

You clear your throat softly, parroting his statement back at him as you force yourself to maintain eye contact. “Four dates?”

He nods in a casual manner, the corner of his mouth curling further into a lascivious smirk as he leans in a hair closer, his warm breath is fanning over the bottom half of your face. He smells of hazelnut and chocolate, and it coils a shiver down your spine. “Four dates. If we make it to the last one without getting bored of each other, then I promise I’ll accept that glass of wine. And…” Harry trails off on purpose for the sake of instilling suspense, proceeding to brush the tip of his cold nose down the bridge of your own, daring you to fold under his influence. The feathery sensation makes your fists tighten against the inside of your elbows. “I’ll accept the wine, and anything that comes after.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you release a shaky exhale, and every cell in your body screams to feel his lips flush to your own. With how close he’s gotten and all the subtle hints he’s giving, he doesn’t seem to have a problem with kissing on the first date, and when he turns his torso in your direction and stretches a hand to cup your jaw, that’s all the confirmation your theory needs. It seems like he’s just waiting for you to initiate, and that very reason is why you decide to draw back instead. If he wants to make you wait for his own pleasure and entertainment, then two can play at that game. You won’t kiss him. Not now, and not in the foreseeable future. If he wants your lips on his, he’ll have to cave first. This little charade can go both ways, and you’re desperate to see if he can take it as well as he dishes it out.

You jerk your head sideways to avoid making a mistake, croaking out your response in a shockingly relaxed tone. “Fine. Four dates it is.”

Harry’s eyebrows inch upwards at your decision to stave him off, but he doesn’t argue or rebuke your actions. One glance at your face tells him everything he needs to know: you’re hellbent on playing hard to get, exactly how he is. He’s never been one to turn down a battle of wits and will; it’ll make his final victory all the more satisfying. This should be fun.

He sighs airily as he drops his palm from your cheek, taking a step back and fishing for his keys inside the front pocket of his dark brown slacks. His car unlocks a moment later with a quick flash of its headlights, and he yanks the passenger’s side open in one swift move, tilting his head towards the seat with an easy smile adorning his handsome features. “Ladies first.”

You mount into the cushioned spot, and the second the door slams shut, your puff out a breath you hadn’t noticed you’d been holding in. You only have a heartbeat to compose yourself before Harry is sliding into the other side of the vehicle, closing the door behind him and turning on the ignition with a deft hand and expert ease. He sets the car in reverse, and then halts in place, cocking his attention to the side to capture your own. His eyes glitter at you amidst heavy lashes as he reaches forward and squeezes above your knee, and the intimate action causes you to jolt slightly. The words he says next leaves you strung on a wire for the rest of the ride home.

“I suppose.”

“Mm. Instead, I’m here with you, talking about murder and adultery while watching you deepthroat that cone like you’ve never tasted peach sherbet before, and I can tell you’re desperate to hold my hand but you’re too scared to reach for it because you think I might pull away.”

Y/N blinks at him in stunned silence. How is he so good are seeing right through her? “I—”

“Isn’t that right?” Harry prods, a smug simper working its way across his cream-smeared lips as he walks beside her with slow, confident strides, one large hand tucked into the pocket of his slacks casually as the other rotates the waffle cone in his grasp, allowing him to lick his treat in uniform circles to avoid any spillage. His cardigan billows in the slight breeze fanning in from the beach, his eyes gleaming in the last rays of the setting sun as it sinks over the horizon, and it’s almost like the faint drops of amber around his pupils are absorbing the golden light as it cascades over the ocean. He licks his cookie dough dessert off his rosy mouth, glimpsing at her expectantly over the rim of his blocky glasses with a kink in one of his brows. “Do you want to hold my hand, yes or no?”

“I don’t know if…if you—”

“Just answer the question.”

Yes. “I—I mean, I wouldn’t be against it if you wanted to. But common sense and deduction tells me that if you wanted to, you would have done it already, and I can read between the lines enough to understand that—”

“Y/N.” Harry gives her a flat look.

“Yeah?”

“Just hold my fucking hand.”

“It’s in your pocket.” She mumbles dumbly, too overwhelmed to state anything other than the obvious.

Harry removes his hand from his trousers, offering it to her nonchalantly, almost as if he’s bored with this interaction. “Not anymore.”

Y/N’s eyes flicker between his outstretched palm and his indifferent expression, trying to decipher whether this is a trick or not. Harry has a weird habit of being unintentionally detached sometimes, which makes him difficult to read, and she’s struggling to do so now as she decides whether he’s doing this for her benefit or if he genuinely wants to be affectionate with her. “Are you sure?”

Harry huffs roughly, rolling his eyes before reaching forward and snatching her palm from where its gripping her cone. The motion almost sends her ice cream rolling across the wooden deck, and it’s a good thing she’d had both hands around the base, or she would be sherbet-less right about now.

She watches hollowly as Harry entangles his fingers between the cracks of her own, and the way their palms fit together perfectly sends an odd buzzing across the tips of her ears. He drums the pads of his digits across her knuckles distractedly as he finishes sifting their hands together snugly, giving her a soft squeeze for good measure. He holds up the intertwined pair, shaking them for emphasis as he cracks an airy grin in her direction. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No.” She whispers quietly, staving off a smitten smile in order to spare her dignity, hiding her lips behind the mountain of frozen fruit juice in her possession. “It wasn’t.”

“Your hands are warm, but not sweaty, which is good. I would have dropped it if it was.” He comments, only half-joking as he allows their joined fingers to plop back down against his thigh. He begins swinging the duo back and forth lightly as they walk, returning his gaze towards the end of the pier, surveying a group of friends as they play volleyball in a nearby court. “That shit irks me.”

“Volleyball?”

“Sweaty hands.”

“Understandable.”

“Not yours, though. They’re soft.”

“Thanks.”

“Aren’t you gonna compliment me back?”

“Yours are soft, too. Happy now?”

“Just peachy.”

Y/N snorts at his pun, which is a nod towards the flavor of the sorbet she’s eating, and any nerves she’d been wrestling earlier ebb away until there’s nearly nothing left. “Nice one.”

“I’ll be here all week, folks!”

The two giggle at his stupid Bugs Bunny impression, and Y/N doesn’t know if Harry notices, but she can feel his thumb start to rub tenderly across her knuckles. She doesn’t bring it up for fear that it might stop, but she definitely jots it down in the mental notepad she keeps in relation to him, which she stashes away deep in her subconscious. Public displays of affection is a yes. Hand-holding is a yes. Sweaty hands is a no. She vaguely wonders if he makes an exception during sex.

After a moment of comfortable emptiness and a few more laps at his dessert, Harry speaks up once more, his accent delicate and fond as he addresses her, his face neutral but slightly wistful. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“I wanted to.”

Her brows furrow in confusion at his random remark. “Wanted to what?”