#dadrry

"Keep Looking Up"

my character presentation | masterlist

warning: a bit of angst, fluff, dadrry x toddler!reader

resumery: harry couldn't make it to your first soccer game

autor note: draft emptyinggggggg

You had worn the new jersey three days before the match.

Not because you had to.

Because you couldn't stop looking at it.

It still didn't feel real.

At ten years old, you had been selected to play your first match for an international youth club tournament.

To you, it was the biggest moment of your life.

You had carefully folded the jersey and placed it on Harry's bed.

When he came into the room, he stopped.

He picked it up with a smile.

"Is this...?"

You nodded so hard your ponytail bounced.

"I made the team."

His eyes lit up.

"You made the team?"

"I made the team!"

Before you knew it, he had scooped you into the biggest hug.

"I knew you could do it."

You buried your face in his sweater, grinning.

"Will you come?"

He didn't even hesitate.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

From that day on, every practice ended the same way.

You'd run over to him.

"Did you see my pass?"

"I did."

"My tackle?"

"Brilliant."

"My goal?"

"My favorite one."

Every answer made you smile a little wider.

The night before the tournament, you were too excited to sleep.

You wandered downstairs at two in the morning.

Harry was sitting in the kitchen, making tea.

He looked up.

"Couldn't sleep?"

You shook your head.

"What if I mess up?"

He smiled.

"You probably will."

You frowned.

"What?"

He laughed softly.

"So will everyone else."

He leaned forward.

"Football isn't about never making mistakes."

"It's about what you do after."

You thought about that for a moment.

Then nodded.

The morning of the match felt magical.

The stadium wasn't enormous, but to you it looked like the biggest place in the world.

Children from different countries filled the warm-up pitches.

Different languages.

Different flags.

Different jerseys.

You looked around in awe.

"I'm really here..."

Harry squeezed your shoulder.

"You earned it."

Just before kickoff, he crouched beside you.

"One thing."

"What?"

"Don't spend the match looking for me."

You giggled.

"I won't."

"You promise?"

"...Maybe once."

He laughed.

"Deal."

The whistle blew.

The game started.

The first few minutes were a blur.

Your legs shook.

Your passes were nervous.

Then...

Everything clicked.

You intercepted the ball.

Played a perfect through pass.

Your teammate scored.

Your coach cheered.

You couldn't stop smiling.

Instinctively...

You glanced toward the stands.

Harry stood immediately.

Both hands in the air.

Cheering louder than anyone.

You beamed.

Twenty minutes later...

His phone vibrated.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

He ignored it.

Then it rang.

He frowned.

Another call.

Then another.

His smile slowly disappeared.

He answered quietly.

"...What happened?"

You couldn't hear the words.

But you saw his face change.

Concern.

Urgency.

He looked back toward the field.

Toward you.

Then back at the phone.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment.

When halftime arrived, you ran toward the sideline.

"Did you—"

Harry met you near the barrier.

His smile was there...

But it looked different.

"I have to go."

You blinked.

"What?"

"Something's happened."

Your smile faded.

"But..."

You looked toward the field.

"The second half."

"I know."

"You promised."

His shoulders dropped.

"I did."

He knelt so he was eye level with you.

"If there was any other choice..."

He couldn't finish the sentence.

Your coach called everyone back.

"You've got thirty seconds!"

You looked from your coach...

Back to Harry.

"So... you won't see it?"

His voice was barely above a whisper.

"I'm so sorry."

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Okay."

You turned before he could see your eyes filling with tears.

As you jogged back onto the pitch, you glanced into the stands.

His seat...

Was empty.

The second half felt different.

Every time you made a good play, your eyes drifted toward where he'd been sitting.

Empty.

Still empty.

You told yourself to stop looking.

But you couldn't.

With five minutes left, the score was tied.

One–one.

Your teammate crossed the ball.

It bounced awkwardly.

Straight toward you.

You remembered Harry's words.

"Football isn't about never making mistakes."

You took one touch.

Then another.

You shot.

The ball flew into the top corner.

Goal.

Your teammates rushed toward you, laughing and shouting.

The crowd erupted.

You smiled...

But when you looked toward the stands...

There was still an empty seat waiting for someone who couldn't be there.

That evening, the front door opened quietly.

Harry stepped inside looking exhausted.

The first thing he saw was your muddy boots by the door.

Then your medal hanging from the coat rack.

His heart sank.

He had missed it all.

He found you curled up on the sofa, still in your team hoodie, watching the replay your coach had sent to the parents.

You looked up when he walked in.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then he sat beside you.

"I watched the whole replay in the car."

You stayed quiet.

"I saw the goal."

Still nothing.

"It was brilliant."

Your eyes stayed on the television.

"I kept looking where you were supposed to be."

His face fell.

"I know."

After a long silence, you whispered,

"I wanted you to see it when it happened."

He nodded slowly.

"I wanted that too."

He didn't make excuses.

He didn't pretend it wasn't disappointing.

He simply sat beside you.

After another quiet minute, he held out his hand.

"I'm proud of you."

You looked at it for a second before slipping your smaller hand into his.

"I scored."

"I know."

"We won."

"I know."

"I was really brave."

He smiled, his eyes shining.

"I know."

You leaned your head against his shoulder.

"I wish you were there."

"So do I."

The room fell silent again.

Outside, the evening faded into night.

Inside, the replay showed your winning goal once more.

This time, as the stadium erupted in celebration, Harry was there to watch every second—even if it was through a screen—and he cheered just as loudly as he would have from the stands, proud of the player you were becoming and quietly wishing he'd been there the first time it happened.

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taglist: @angelonthewallsofversailles, @summerwrittenbitch @heartchaeii @harrysbitches @howtocumwithlium @louisslefthairytoe @pinkfloydbenbosw @cupiidy

hey guys! after a much needed hiatus, i've decided to return to writing. there's a story that's been on my mind for about 2 years now and i took the time to write the plot out and i know the direction i want everything to go, but i'm not too sure if anyone would actually read it or if it would flop.

so i wanna take a vote, would you guys read a dadrry fanfic that doesn't involve smut or romance? it would just be a platonic father-daughter story, where harry is learning how to be a single dad.

here is the description: A story of a young, orphan girl who learns about love and family from a wealthy man who is looking for a child to love.

please answer the poll down below. any feedback is appreciated.

thank you! x

i have rearranged the timeline of the albums if some may realize, but as the story goes on it will make sense i swear!!

prelude and into you will be posted in the next few days :))

i am a college student studying journalism and writing, and i sort of want to start to build some good stories and feedback is greatly appreciated!

AN: this is partly inspired by that lady who made the tiktok video saying she was told to breastfeed in an airport bathroom but refused. i just put my own spin to the story. i don't write a lot of angst but for this blurb i decided it needed a little to make it complete. hope you enjoy and remember to leave feedback. xoxo (ps, this has been in my drafts since last september and i'm just now proof reading it to post.)

This story contains: breastfeeding in public, sexualization of breastfeeding, perverted man, comfort, angst

{ dadrry - husband!harry - softrry - au!harry }

word count- 950

You begin breastfeeding your hungry newborn baby at the airport while Harry is on the hunt for you some breakfast, when all of the sudden an older man decides to butt into your business and share his negative thoughts on you breastfeeding in public.

This marked your first travel experience since welcoming your two-month-old daughter into the world, Penny, and it'd be an understatement to say you were a nervous wreck. You were unsure if Penny would sleep soundly for the duration of the flight, or if she'd cry and bother the other passengers. The unknowing of how she'll act on the plane gave you major anxiety.

You and Harry made sure to get to the airport two hours in advance of your flight's departure time, which gave you time to have some breakfast and soothe your nerves before the journey. After going through the security checks and having your bags examined, you sat in a small seating area near your gate while Harry looked for breakfast for the two of you.