#fluffrry

Hi guys!! Here’s a Short imagine about what I think the Grammys with H would be like xx

2.3k words

Warnings - language!!

Cheeky little disclaimer here, I have NO IDEA what Mr Harry Styles is like in real life and I don't claim to know, but based on the little we know about him, I wrote this little blurb to bring me a bit of comfort really?

I couldn't get the storyline out of my head after staying up till almost 4am watching the Grammys this morning 😃.  Needless to say, I still need some sleep.

I am IMMENSELY proud of Harry and all his achievements, I wish him nothing but happiness and endless amounts of love.

If you hate it and you completely disagree, that's perfectly fine but please refrain from telling me as I am soft and will think about it for the rest of my life 😃🤡.

I'm very very nervous to release this bc it's the first time I've ever done something like this??

Ummmmmm anyway, I'll let you get into the story!

Bisous à tout le monde, surtout aujourd'hui 💜💜

It’s also on Wattpad!!!!

——————————

"Are you going to actually help me get ready love? Or are you just going to keep taking pictures?"

I look down at the picture I just took and can only come to one conclusion - he's a rockstar. Not that we didn't know it before, but there's something about him today. All clad in leather sans a relatively important clothing article. His hair artfully disheveled, expression tense and chest bare all the way down to the ferns I love to scratch at (he loves it just as much, encourages it even). 

It's funny how quickly that expression melts into an indulgent, slightly chastising smile, when he hears the shutter of my film camera click.

The arch in his brow is accentuated by a faint glow. It's nothing really added onto him, he's just so ethereal, innately, he glows.

My very own encapsulation of warmth, my sunshine.

I hold his gaze defiantly tonight. not slipping up as easily as I usually would, letting a cheeky "I'm sorry, H" fall from my pouted lips, without an ounce of regret in my words.

Shaking his head he laughs to himself as he paces slowly over to me "no you're not, minx"

His hands skim over my similar outfit, the beauty of it, etched in its simplicity. It's a structured, high-waisted leather miniskirt just about dusting my mid thigh coupled with a longline leather blazer and a white feathered boa, which is somewhere carelessly strewn across the hotel bed.

The cut was immaculate and coupled with my heels, I felt that my gangly legs had been transformed into stately model-esque ones which went on for miles.

Seeing as I don't have Harry's confidence, I have a tiny crystal studded bra on, just to protect my "modesty". The girls are tucked away behind nipple stickers so there's no room for slips here.

I honestly would have been content going there in a burlap sack so as not to take attention away from our rockstar here, but Alessandro insisted. "My muse's muse is my muse" he kept repeating. This has now become a bit of an inside joke and mantra between all three of us.

Besides, he's not doing the carpet in the leather so paling into insignificance will be easy for me.

Ring studded hands move back into my peripheral vision as he drags them down the lapels of my blazer, pulling them apart just a touch, to see one of his cross necklaces resting daintily between my clavicles and the glint of the crystals adorning my body. He flits over my waist, squeezing once before allowing his hands to settle delicately on my hips, pulling me into his hold.

Looking up at his face I see the mischief poorly concealed in his eyes, knowing that if I didn't act quickly, shit would get real chaotic, real fast.

"Okay fine, you caught me ... I'm not." I retort with a gentle shrug.

My resulting grin, kicks his smile up a notch as he leans down to press a kiss to my nose.

"I know."

I would do the same but I don't want to leave a red outline on his nose, seeing as I know he'll be flushed as hell in a few moments.

I pull back a little and do his zipper up, fastening the closure; before reaching up, rearranging his necklaces and pressing a small kiss to his chest, hidden by his blazer. His heart is hammering behind his ribcage as I expected.

You'd never know because of the amazing way in which he carries himself. He's laughing with everyone - making them feel at ease, telling jokes, calming Jeff down; but I see it in the twitch of his brows, the periodical playing with his hands - whether that be clenching his fists or tapping his fingers and twisting his rings; and in his complete forgetfulness.

All this morning it's been an echo of "darling, have you seen my ... ?" And then shortly after, like a mole popping up from the ground again, I'm met with a "nevermind! Just seen it"

I don't mind any of it. I'm just ridiculously proud of him and grateful I can take part in his whole process.

His eyes search mine and through the mix of disbelief, excitement and gratefulness, I can see him yearning for the tiniest bit of reassurance, so I open my mouth and allow a portion of the constant thoughts that swim in my head and flood my brain to pour out.

"We're all beyond excited to see you perform and you have nothing to be worried about my love. But if you do get worried, I'll be right there cheering so loud Trevor Noah'll have to kick me out." I run my fingers over his cheekbones, cupping the side of his face as he leans into my palm, "You're going to be electric up there, you always are."

No one can ever take their eyes off him when he's up there on that stage. He's just so enthralling.

He breathes out a tuft of air through his lips. Sounds like a little seed of relief being planted. He brings my palm round to his lips with one hand still situated at my waist, and presses several kisses into it. "Thank you bubba. I love you most"

"Impossible" I laugh, finally pulling away from him as people start streaming into the room again. Touch ups to our faces are handled and I quickly blot at the lipstick pout on his chest, he watches me in an eagle-eyed manner and stops me when the mark becomes faint but not invisible. "Want a little piece of you on me for good luck"

I'm so overcome with emotion when he says that, I completely blank and swat at his arm. Hearing him yelp and retract it from me, "what the hell was that for?" His brows furrowed and cherry lips all pouty.

"Don't say things like that when I'm not allowed to kiss you, H" I retort, donning a slight pout of my own.

We settle for a long hug filled with meaning and reassurance, murmuring the depth of my love for him into his ears as I slink away from him, allowing people to do their jobs.

He puckers his lips at me right before he's whisked off to the stage to prepare and I return the gesture before hanging back to chat with Alessandro and Lambert.

The Gucci mogul wraps his arm round me and reassures me softly as I rest my head on his shoulder "starà bene, mia musa. Andrà tutto bene "

I take his words to heart as I try to calm my raging nerves about Harry. I know he'll be just fine.

*

Magnetic.

He was way more than fine. He owned that stage. No one could take their eyes off him for a moment. His passion for his craft so clearly shone through his voice, his smile, his personality, and yes, especially when he broke off for a short little dance number with Alayna and India.

He looked so good matching me, a small but loud voice in my head kept voicing thoughts to "lick him right up."

To be honest, they're not wrong.

I had run into the crew in the halls prior to the performance, and given them massive hugs for good luck, especially Alayna and India - we'd kept in pretty good touch after the jingle ball performance and India's music is, for want of a more expressive word, blessed.

Mitch and Sarah smashed it as usual but this time Sarah did her job heavily pregnant and so her performance was even more insane to watch than usual.

His eyes scan the crowd halfway through like he's lost me so I intensify my dancing a little and focus on his face so he finds me again. Once our eyes lock, his lips tug up into a half smile and he shoots me a wink almost too fast to catch before taking a deep breath for his "oowwww!" And singing "I just want to taste it". He's now full on grinning to himself and I shake my head at his inappropriate behaviour almost mirroring our interaction this morning. I blow him a kiss as I revel in how proud I am of him and he ends the set on a high.

Mesmerising.

*

He's changed into his second outfit, and done the red carpet before coming to find Jeff and I on his table. He laces his fingers through mine and squeezes my hand as hard as he can, as soon as it comes into reach. I hold it up to my lips for a kiss through my mask and murmur a "you were amazing baby" into his ears. The nerves are eating at both of us right now as we anxiously wait for his category. He squeezes periodically and I squeeze back, letting him know I'm right there.

His name is called and we're both stunned into a state of shock and Jeff has to shake us out of it quickly. He saunters up to the stage and collects his award giving an emotional impromptu speech before leaving the fucking Grammy up there.

This man, I swear.

I'm practically bouncing in my seat and beaming beneath my mask. I can't wait for this session to end so I can shower him in kisses, not caring if they leave marks or not.

We get through a couple more categories before the shuffle and we head on back to the hotel. As soon as we get into the car he pulls me into his lap holding me close and murmuring in my ear in unbelief "we did it, I can't believe we fuckin' did it"

"You did it. We were just there for moral support baby. I love you so much, you deserve every single accolade and I'm so proud of you." I smother him in kisses like I'd been wanting to all evening and he takes them graciously. Murmuring a soft "thank you darlin'" for each one.

His phone is buzzing off the hook so we turn it off for now, knowing that the people he really wants to speak to, will only hear about the news in the morning - since it's almost 2am their time.

We know we have to be back in a couple of hours for the second award but we couldn't care less, wrapped up in our little bubble, giggling to ourselves when we remember the whole ordeal.

My baby has a Grammy?

Of course he does, it feels so natural to say.

Both H and Alessandro beg me to change into something else for when he does his second change of the night, so I switch my blazer out for the clueless-esque one he had just taken off and told them to take it or leave it.

Luckily for them, they loved it and Harry took to whispering in my ear just how much he loved it, making my face flush with heat.

"I couldn't do this without you, you know. My muse" he recounts as we head back to the venue, placing a kiss to my wrist.

"I love you so much, I need you to know that."

"I love you most" I whisper back, lightly pressing my lips against his.

"Win or lose, I don't care. I'm just so glad I have all of you. From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you all. You've been exceptional, and you have all my love."

He speaks up in the car letting everyone hear his heartfelt words to which they respond with various degrees of "love you Harry!"

He leans down again, speaking into my ear "especially you." I smile into his neck, assured he can feel it when he presses a kiss to the top of my head.

*

We bop around saying hello to old friends and getting tipsy as the night goes on. We dance to the high energy performances, catch up with Lizzo - stopping for multiple pictures, and I almost tear up at the interactions Meg has with Beyoncé and Billie Eilish. She's had such a crazy year, and I'm just so happy for her.

"It's fuckin' Beyoncé" I hear Harry murmur to me for the third time tonight. I stifle a giggle at his statement, knowing that he's sufficiently tipsy and even though I am too, I'm also needing to keep an eye on him so we both don't end up dancing on the tables.

He gets pulled away from me a couple times, but I don't mind, he always comes back to find me - wrapping his arms round my waist and tucking his head into my neck in greeting.

I know it's time to get us home when he tries to pull me into his lap at the table. As much as he loves me, sober Harry would not do that in such a public space so I only allow him to slink his arm around me, despite the pout on his lips and lean over to tell Jeff that we were heading home.

Luckily for me, Harry behaves himself all the way to the car, dropping his head into my lap as soon as we get in.

The fast paced, high energy environment of today is getting to both of us tremendously but he deserves all the attention, love and devotion right now.

I comb my fingers through his short curls, as he practically purrs, loving the way they glide so easily through my fingers. We zip through the city, lights blurring into streaks around us and I marvel over the absurdity of this day. I've been walking through it on a high, not being able to process the enormity of it all.

I look down at the 27 year old man resting peacefully on my thighs, recounting his career and all his momentous firsts.

Words fail me as I try to express my love for him, how proud I am of him, how deserving he is of this and so much more.

It's yours my golden boy.

Everything, all of it.