“One week,” Harry smirked against the nape of your neck, his nose nuzzled into the space behind your ear with his lips pressing soft and wet kisses to your skin; not that you minded. It felt good against your sticky and hot skin, covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the amorous activities just previously carried out before you both fell asleep. Waking up in the morning was difficult enough with you being too comfy to leave Harry’s warmth and because it meant that you couldn’t bury yourself beneath the duvet when things got tough with the wedding. “One week and we’ll be getting ready for our big day,” Harry grinned, his warm breath fanning across your neck, making the area where he’d pressed wet kisses cool and shivers were sent down your spine.
It was crazy to lay there and think of how quickly those 5 months had passed; it felt just like February again when you thought back to when Harry had proposed that one night, shock coursing through your veins as he knelt to the ground. Little did you know that it was going to feel like a click of your fingers, because it came soon enough. In just one more week, you would officially be Harry’s missus. Mrs Styles. Mrs (Y/N) Styles. Something you’d been rehearsing in your mind for the past few months of your engagement, but you didn’t really care for what people thought when they heard you mumbling the name beneath your breath. Sometimes when you were standing in the aisles of the supermarket deciding upon the different cans of peas, you would absentmindedly start mumbling beneath your breath, earning confused stares from the elderly couples walking behind you.
“Can you please tell me where we’re going for our honeymoon?” You asked with a hint of begging in your voice, your head tilted back. As a promise to Harry back a couple of weeks ago, you had said he could book the honeymoon in hopes that he booked somewhere relaxing. With the sun, the sand and the alcohol to have a good time, as well as the comforts of being alone and the chances of having intimate moments together; somewhere other than LA you hoped. “Seriously, if you end up taking me to LA, I will divorce you.”
“You would not divorce me. You love me too much,” he chuckled, the sound echoing around the quiet bedroom. “But, I can promise you, it’s not LA. It’s not Paris either, so get that idea out of your mind. It’s somewhere romantic. I just need to book the tickets and then I’m ready to whisk you away and have some private days with my missus,” he whispered, his voice deep and accentuated, and somewhat sexy to you with the mixture of lust, rawness of his throat and the volume at which he spoke.
“Why won’t you tell me? This wasn’t part of the promise. I just promised you that you could book the honeymoon. I didn’t say you could keep the place from me,” you sighed, placing your hand upon the hand of his that was sitting on top of your thigh, pushing your fingers between the gaps of his own. “I need to get up and get showered and dress, baby. Gemma’s coming to get me for my hen party tonight,” you giggled, removing his hand from your thigh and sitting up on the mattress, your free hand holding the duvet to your chest.
“Oh, that’s today? Ed’s got me’ party tonight, then. He said he was booking the club for the same night as your party. But, I don’t want to go out without you,” he whined, rolling onto his back and covering his face with his hands, a puff of breath leaving his mouth. “We’ve always gone out together, getting drunk and being all sexy on the dancefloor. Why can’t we just have a joint party?” He sighed, looking at you through the gap between his fore finger and his middle finger. You turned your head over your shoulder, a sigh of happiness leaving your lips as you took in his appearance; his forehead was slightly sweaty, soft strands of his hair falling from his bun and sticking to the skin above his eyes. His cheeks were flushed, and his chest was heaving up and down with each breath he took. Post-sex Harry was a favourite of yours, if you had to be completely honest.
“Hey, I’m coming back home afterwards. There is no way my mum is going to get heavily drunk, so she can bring me back from the club that Sophia booked,” you reasoned, before falling back to the mattress and rolling onto your side to face him. Your hand pressed flat against the dip of his chest between his two nipples, your fore finger drawing soft patterns and tickling at his skin. “Your mum won’t get heavily drunk either, so they’ll both look after those of us who get drunk,” you smiled, craning your neck forward and pressing a kiss to his nose.
“I can’t say the same for Ed. He said he’s invited both my dad and Robin, so hopefully they can be the ones looking after us. Niall’s supposed to be taking it easy with his boot and his antibiotics, but I’m sure he’s persuaded the doctor to let him have a night free from the drugs and a night on the booze,” Harry chuckled, dropping his hands from his face and letting them fall to the bed with a soft boom of the springs beneath the both of you. “If anything, Liam will be taking it easy. Heck, I’m not really up for getting piss drunk, so I might only have a couple ’a beers myself.”
“Harry Edward Styles, don’t be such a lightweight. Tonight is about you and your mates. You don’t need me there. You’ll have a good time, I bet you. Ed’s probably got a nice fun-filled evening just for you,” you stated, patting his chest softly before kicking the duvet from your naked body and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. “Now, come have a shower with me and then we can spend the rest of the morning doing whatever you wish for us to do.”
“Can we just lounge around and watch like, the highlights of the Man United game from last night? Because you couldn’t keep your want for me at a low level so I had I do something to fulfil that,” he chuckled, sitting up on the bed and standing up against the carpet. The soft fuzzy plush carpet cosy and tickly at the pads of his feet. A scoff left your lips, as you looked over to him before shuffling into the en suite bathroom, and shutting the door behind you. “Oh, c’mon baby. I was joking. I’d much rather have sex with you than watch a footie game. You know that, love. Le’me in, please. I smell.”
Last night was a spur of the moment in your eyes. With the wedding being just a week away, you’d both made a pact to have no sex before the wedding night, in hopes that the both of you could keep up with what you’d both committed too. But watching Harry from the kitchen doorway was turning you on, your levels of lust and need for him busting through the roof and rising higher and higher with each tiny movement he did; he was settled upon the sofa, his feet kicked up on the coffee table, with a Man United jersey tugged over his head and a pair of black football shorts slung low on his hips. A bottle of Budweiser beer lodged in his hand and soft groans leaving his lips each time the players would mess up their chances of pulling the game into their hands. You didn’t want to do anything, because a commitment had been made, but surely that commitment could be discarded for one night?
“You could have happily stayed watching the footie game, Harold. You were the one who insisted upon taking me to bed,” you smirked to yourself, pinching your bottom lip between your thumb and your fore finger. “I could have happily given you some pleasure and the commitment we made would still somewhat be intact. Starting from tonight, no sex. I’m saving myself for the wedding night,” you stated, before twisting the handle of the bathroom door, and opening it just a crack to see a flustered looking naked Harry looking at you, a soft grin on his lips. “You’re just a sex crazed teenage boy really, aren’t you?”
“Excuse me; I am not a sex crazed teenage boy. I just happen to have a very beautiful, very gorgeous, very sexy wife-to-be. Try telling my penis to stop getting hard when I see you,” he murmured under his breath, pushing the door open with his palm and stepping inside the brightly lit room. The tiles cold and icy against his bare feet. “Now, get this shower started. I do not love this sweat smell,” he grinned, cupping your face in his hands and pressing his lips to your forehead.
You felt honoured to be the girl he had chosen to spend the rest of his life with; he was Harry Styles. He could have anybody he wanted, with the click of his fingers. If he wanted a model, all he had to do was make himself a free man and head to a Victoria Secret show or head out to a pub and pick up a random woman who the fans would soon find out about. But he didn’t want anybody; he just wanted you. You made him feel like he was just a normal 23 year old with a normal life. Something that he loved feeling; to you, he was just Harry. He wasn’t Harry Styles from One Direction; he was just your fiancé Harry.
* *
“Sophia has booked such a beautiful venue, love. She’s gone so out of her way to book such a great evening,” Gemma said, as you drove down the motorway into the centre of London. “We’ve been searching around for a good venue. She asked me for some help, and since I had some free time from work this week, I promised I’d come with her. She’s chosen a bloody good one,” she grinned, changing the gear of the car and speeding up to pass a slower one in front of you both.
“I hope she’s booked a stripper-free evening. I promised Harry no strippers; even Soph promised Harry no strippers. I’m stressing about the strippers. Gemma, tell me, are there strippers?” You wondered, words coming out almost like word vomit. Strippers were something you were more than worried about; with your elderly family members around, you just didn’t want to face the embarrassment, no matter how funny it would have been to experience having a stripper grind himself against you. “My mum, my aunts have been invited, your mum is there. Gemma, pleas-“
“-Calm down, (Y/N)! There is no stripper. I promise you. I wouldn’t ever turn against what you want at your hen party. I’m not going to even go where Sophia’s gone; she’s brought some rather phallic things based upon the male genital area. You’ll love it. I promise. Your mum, my mum and your aunts have all been through these hen parties before,” Gemma said, squeezing your hand tightly as the car roamed the streets of Chelsea.
“Chelsea? Jesus, she’s gone full out. How the hell did she afford this place?” You wondered, looking around at the homes and the bungalows randomly built around the streets. Some with large gaps between each other, and some detached. “This place is so expensive. Oh gosh, I didn’t expect her to go full out, Gem. Jesus holy hell, I told her I didn’t want anything major extravagant,” you panicked, looking back to Gemma who was giggling and shaking her head softly.
You knew they wanted you to have the best night of your life, and they had partly gone with the idea of hiring out a club area to have your hen party, but you didn’t expect them to have hired a club in the Chelsea area; you knew the expenses of the houses so it would only mean that the club hiring and the venues were expensive than what it normally costed. Just a simple hall venue would have sufficed you, just as long as you had your family and your friends there, that’s all that mattered.
JuJu London *** was painted above the door in black letters as Gemma parked in front of the venue. No other cars you recognised were around, the only car you knew being Sophia’s parked at the other end of the car park. It was a small venue from the outside, but you had a feeling you were in for a surprise when you stepped through the doors holding back the contents from inside. As you followed Gemma through the doors, the smell of alcohol already intoxicating your nose.
“Are you ready to be amazed with the work?” Gemma smirked, as you stood in front of the closed door. Her hand was braced on the door, flat and ready to push it open, and all you wanted was to barge past and see what Sophia had set up inside. “You promise you’ll have a good time tonight? I know you want Harry here, but that’s not happening. Just one night, you can live without partying with him,” Gemma grinned, nudging your arm softly to your ribs.
“I promise I’ll have a good time, Gem. I promise. Now open the doors. I want to see where we’ll be partying tonight,” you murmured, looking towards your sister-in-law to be and sent her a warming and a soft smile. “Please. I want to get first look.”
“Fine, fine. You’re so like Harry. Not patience, extremely stubborn. Are you sure you aren’t Harry in a female body?” Gemma teased, pushing open the door and letting the inside come into view. A smile etching onto her lips as she shuffled across the floor, standing beside Sophia who was swallowing down a bottle of water, revelling in the masterpiece of her party set-up.
“So, what do you think?”
You looked to where Sophia was standing, her arms folded across her chest; her white dress tight and showing every curve of her body ***. You spun on your heel, looking around the small venue and gasping softly. Pink and fluffy fairy lights had been hung around the perimeter of the ceiling; pink ‘Hen Night’ balloons were blown up and weighed down upon the different tables around the room, and not to mention some rather phallic penis shaped balloons hanging around randomly in the room from the ceiling. You could see a pink tatted and fluffy tutu, a feather boa and sash saying ‘Bride-To-Be’ were thrown across one of the bar stools in the corner.
“It’s amazing. Not what I expected at all, Soph. It’s brilliant. I expected more penises, and some naughty things, but this is minimal, even for you,” you giggled, shuffling across the floor and pulling her into a hug. “Thank you so much, love. I love it,” you sighed, pulling away from her and reaching behind her for a fresh bottle of water.
“We’ve got some jolly good games and stuff to play, and some presents to give and some drinks and some partying to do,” Gemma grinned, nudging your arm before reaching for the sash and the fluffy tutu and the feather boa from the stool. “Now, get this on. My mum, Alice and your mum and your aunts are on their way. Then Eleanor said she’s going to pop by, and Ed’s girlfriend said she might pop in for a bit before she goes back home, and then Lottie text me and said she’s coming with Louise, Jay and Felicite. I’m not sure whether Nicola and Ruth are coming. Soph did ask Liam to ask them, but we don’t know if he remembered,” Gemma laughed, smiling widely when you slid the tutu up your jean covered legs and let it ping against your tummy.
“Wow, this sounds like a good afternoon already. I’m excited,” you grinned, swinging the feather boa around your neck and letting it hang loosely down your body.
“And we’ve also booked a-“
“I said no strippers, Soph!” You sighed, your eyes widening as she let out a laugh and shook her head. “I’m serious. Oh my god, you booked a bloody stripper. I said no. But then again, you don’t usually listen to me, so… What can I say?” You rolled your eyes, before grunting when her elbow met your chest.
“I was going to say we booked a mixologist. A professional mixologist. To mix our cocktails, get you tipsy drunk, and have you dancing on the tables. He knows how to do that. I’ve had him for my sisters’ parties a whole lot,” Sophia grinned, rubbing her hands together as she pressed her palms to your shoulders, and smirked.
* *
His knuckles from one hand knocked against the front door of Niall’s place, whilst his other hand pushing his wallet into his back pocket; the taxi he’d taken backing out of the driveway, and disappearing behind the bush of Niall’s front garden. He could hear the heels of boots behind the front door, before the locks were opened and Niall emerged from behind the wood.
“Haz, mate. Hey. Come in, come in. We’ve got some beer chilling by the barbeque in t’e back garden, Louis’ doing t’e food, Liam’s outback helping and me’ brot’er is out t’ere too.. We’re waiting for Ed to show up. He’s gone t’ pick up Grimmy and Cordon from t’e train station,” Niall *** smiled, closing the door behind Harry *** and taking the coat that was settled under his arm. “Everyone should be here soon. We said 5, and it’s like quarter to,” he said, following Harry into the back garden.
“How come Ed’s not chosen a pub or a club? I know I said a sophisticated party, but by that I meant nothing childish, no stupid games and no strippers. We’re still going to get drunk and party,” Harry grinned, clapping his hands together and rubbing his palms against one another. He settled in a patio chair at the head of Niall’s garden table beside Greg, a bottle of beer appearing from Liam who had walked over to gather him and Harry one. “Who else is coming t’night?”
“Grimmy, James and Tom,” Niall said, clapping him on the shoulder before walking over to where Louis was stood by the barbeque, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his forehead covered in beads of sweat. “Le’me take over now, Tommo. Before ye’ burn t’e food,” Niall stated, chuckles erupting from the boys around the table as Louis rolled his eyes.
“Whatever, mate. Hope your burger is cold and defrosted,” he murmured with a hint of sass and sarcasm, falling to the seat beside Liam ***. “Anyway, mate. You excited for the wedding? A week to go. How’s that feeling?” Louis ***wondered, grabbing what Harry could only guess was his bottle of beer from before Harry had arrived. “This time next week, you’ll have a missus. A wife. And we’ll be partying more with everyone,” Louis grinned, rubbing his hands together and crossing his ankles over under the table. If there was anything that Louis loved then it was partying with his mates and having a proper laugh like normal; he was more than excited for the wedding reception mainly because he could tease the heck out of you and Harry, he got to have a dance with you, and he got to drink and eat food that was made fit for a king. Who couldn’t enjoy partying in style?
“No, yeah. I’m proper excited, with a little hint of nerves, but that’s normal. I just can’t wait to have ‘er as my missus. It’s crazy to even think that 5 years ago, I was too nervous to ask her to be my girlfriend, and then 5 years on and we’re getting married and spending the rest of our lives together. It’s crazy how much I love her, ya’know?” Harry grinned, pressing the neck of the bottle to his lips, letting the liquid contents run down his throat. “But, really, she’s fantastic. I love her. You can tease me all you want, but I don’t give a shit.”
“You fuckin’ sap, Harry. When did you turn so feminine?” A voice reprimanded, a laugh following from behind as everyone looked towards to the back door, to where Nick Grimshaw *** and James Cordon *** were stood with Ed *** behind them. “You alright, mate? Nerves kickin’ in yet? I’m excited to see you at the end of the aisle, shittin’ yerself and almost faintin’,” Nick laughed, handing Niall a crate of beer that he had lodged beneath his arm. Harry let out a loud laugh, placing his beer bottle upon the glass patio table and clasping his hands together on the table top.
“Who says I’m going to be fainting, or even shitting myself, huh? I’m excited,” Harry smiled, nodding softly as he looked down to his lap and chuckled to himself. “You all think so low of me. I am nowhere near going to faint or shit myself. I mean, I might have a vomit spell or something before, but that’s normal, right?” Harry wondered, as James took a seat in one of the comfier patio chairs and folded his arms over his chest, just as Nick took the seat that was beside Harry.
“Harry, mate, you got not’in’ to be scared about, yeah? When I married Denise, I was such a nervous wreck, it was unbearable. But, at t’e end of it all, you get a missus. One person you spend t’e rest of yer life wit’. You ask Niall ‘ere. I was nervous, I threw up over me’ shoes, at one point in the day,” Greg laughed, blushing as the whole table erupted into a raucous laughter, with claps and rubs of his shoulder coming from Niall. “But, trust me, it’s so completely normal t’ be nervous. Even if you know how in love (Y/N) is with you and how much you love her, it’s still nerve wracking. I ge’ ya.”
Harry knew it would be tough. Emotions running ragged, hormones all over the place, and worrying taking place on the day (even though everything had been planned). He knew something was going to happen, but he wanted his mind to think positive; something positive will happen and it will be something to remember.
He hoped.
“Seriously though, I swear I’ve never seen Harry so in love with someone before. (Y/N) really is someone special,” James said, leaning over Nick’s lap and patting Harry’s knee softly. “We can all vouch and say she’s pulled the better side of you out; you’re cheekier, much more fun, you smile more and you’re always chatting about her like she’s the only thing to even exist in your life,” James said, and every guy sat around the table nodded.
You were the light of his life. The apple of his eye. He loved you to death.
* *
“So, details. C’mon, spill. I know you like the back of my hand, missy,” Sophia slurred, as she slouched over your shoulder and let her wine-induced breath fan across your face. By 11pm, the party was in full swing, people were dancing and ordering drinks, some were settled in booths around the small venue whispering and laughing loudly over the music, and some where hunching in the corners looking upon the presents that everyone had given you as a congratulations. “You had sex this morning. You have to spill. C’mon. It’s not a hen party if you don’t give us details,” she murmured into your ear, small droplets of liquid dribbling from the rim of her glass as she tilted it absentmindedly.
“I, uhm, I really don’t think that’s acceptable for conversation right now,” you slightly slurred back, your eyes switching between Anne and your mother settled in the booth opposite, with Alice perched on the edge beside Anne and Gemma perched beside you. “Not when his family and my mother are here, Soph,” you stated, looking to her as she gave you a drunken pout and banged her glass against the table.
“Details!”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. If it makes you more comfortable, we can go get more drinks for us all. Make it less awkward?” Anne offered, and beneath the pink fairy lights and the disco lights, you gave her a drunken and blushing smile before slowly nodding. You didn’t feel like your mother and Anne needed to know the details of yours and Harry’s sex life; you felt you shouldn’t feel obliged to even tell anybody what happens behind the closed bedroom door of yours and Harry’s bedroom, but it was a tradition in hen parties, according to Sophia. “Vodka and orange juices for the young ladies, and some Prosecco for the elderlies,” Anne laughed, as Alice shuffled from the edge of the booth to let Anne and your mother out. And once they were out of earshot, you were badgered by not only Sophia, but Alice and Gemma too.
“C’mon, (Y/N). Are the fans right by what they’re saying?” Alice grinned, leaning over the table to grab your hand. “Is he good in bed? Or does he slack? I’m curious. He’s my best friend, but he never tells me anything like this, ya’know?” She laughed, as Gemma gawked at her and slapped her arm softly.
“He’s your best friend. Do you tell him stuff about your sex life?” Gemma smirked, as Alice nodded and blushed bright pink. “Oh my god. Do you give him ideas? Does Harry do crazy things in bed? Because if he does, you know who gives him the idea,” Gemma grinned, pointing to Alice as she smirked at you and watched your eyes roll.
“You are unbelievable,” you muttered, before gulping down the last of your vodka and orange juice and looked up at the ceiling before looking to the three girls sat around you. “Graphic details or just the smaller details?” You smirked, giggling when Sophia squealed and clapped her hands beside you.
“Just tell us anything. Is he well endowed? Big? Small? Does he satisfy you?” She grinned, watching you bite your lip before looking at her with a blushing yet innocent look. “Oh my god, he is well endowed! You lucky thing! To be fair, I’ve seen his penis,” Sophia nodded, looking to her glass as Gemma and Alice gasped just audibly and looked to her with wide eyes. “They had a quickie in the dressing room one night before a show. I walked in, expecting them to be like, kissing or just eating or drinking tea, but no! No way were they doing that. She had her hands down his pants, trapping him between her body and the wall, and I caught him mid orgasm. It was horrifying,” she shuddered, pulling a cringing face before sending you a wink and a smirk.
“This is why I didn’t want to talk with my mother and Harry’s mother here,” you stated.
“Oh come on! You’ve had sex on mum and Robin’s sofa in the living room, and they walked in on you. She’s seen it all before, love. I’m sure she’s used to it,” Gemma grinned, nudging her arm in your ribcage, adding pain to the pain of embarrassment already in your body. That was a memory you wanted erased from your brain; it was in the early stages of the relationship, you were both 19 years old and a year into the relationship and every place you’d been there was sexual tension between you both, and it became almost impossible to keep your hands off of each other. The honeymoon stage, as everyone liked to call it, had never left your relationship. 5 years on, and you were still madly in love with him. And he you.
“I’ve slept on that sofa! Oh my god,” Alice cried out, a laugh leaving her lips as you rolled your eyes and nodded. “Where else have you done it that I’ve slept, sat or eaten off of?”
“Harry’s childhood bed, obvs. But that’s it. I promise. We wouldn’t do it on kitchen tables or anything like that,” you said, looking down at your lap as you lied through your teeth. In your own home, you could do it anywhere without worrying about people catching you in the act. A dry spell had taken over you both when he had a week long break in LA to do some writing and recording for someone, but when he came back, it was a sex extravaganza for the both of you. The bathroom, the bedroom, the kitchen, the living room and even upon the kitchen counter were just the mere places you’d caught up with making love and having those fun yet intimate moments that you both loved dearly.
“You fuckin’ liar,” Sophia grinned, throwing an arm across your shoulders and pulling you into her side, her lips melding with your ear. “You’re a dirty dog, but it’s cute,” she whispered, pressing a friendly yet drunken kiss to your cheek. “We should go dance! Let’s go and dance! I want to dance!”
* *
“Thank you so much for this evening, lads. I’ve had the best night,” Harry said, standing up from his patio chair and wiping his chest from the crumbs from his burger and the hot dog he had munched upon whilst everyone was busy conversing about pretty much anything that their drunken minds could come up with. “Honestly, and I’m so glad that I’ve got mates like you because you make my life the best. The lads in the band, you’re amazing and without you I’d have no life and I’d most certainly not have met my missus without you. Grim, you’ve just been there for me, like the older brother I never had, and it’s the same for Ed and Tom. I feel like you’re all the brothers I never had and it’s an incredible feeling to have,” Harry stated, as Tom raised his glass and stood up.
“To Harry and (Y/N)!”
“To Harry and (Y/N)!” Everyone cheered and Harry chuckled, downing the rest of his beer before settling down into the patio chair he’d sat in for the majority of the night.
“You’re going to love the presents that me and Soph brought you and the missus, H. Soph took ‘em to the hen party, so, you’ll see later,” Liam grinned, before ducking his arm down and removing his coat from the box he had covered for the night. “However, I was allowed to bring this one to give to you, because, you couldn’t open the presents that Soph took because they’re more female like, but you can use them too,” Liam chuckled, handing the neatly wrapped box down the table and watching as it settled into Harry’s large palms. “Open it. Hopefully it’ll come to good use for the bedroom activities.”
As he ripped at the paper, the doorbell had rung from inside the house, and Niall shot up from his seat to answer it. He balled the paper up as a white box came into view, and as he put the ball onto the table top, he couldn’t help but look at the smirks on the boys’ faces as he looked around at everyone.
“What is it? Why are you smirking at me?”
“Just, open the bloody box!”
And with that, he pulled the top of the box off and rolled his eyes before letting out a bellowing laugh, picking up the contents up and hanging them off of his fore finger; pink, fluffy handcuffs and a blindfold.
“For god sake, you guys are arseholes. We have a perfectly good sex life, I do not need handcuffs or a blindfold to spice up my sex life,” Harry laughed, dropping the contents back into the box and closing it back up. “But thank you. (Y/N) will appreciate this very much,” he said, grunting slightly as he bent over the arm of the chair and placed the box beside the back leg.
“Oh, Harry! We have another surprise for you. You have to close your eyes, or maybe use the blindfold that Liam brought you. You can’t see this one,” Niall called from the kitchen, poking his head around the back door and sending Ed a quick wink. “Eyes shut, Styles. Now. I’m bringing the surprise out. Edward, would you like to come and help me?” And with that, Ed scraped his chair across the concrete patio and shuffled into the kitchen and Harry immediately grew cautious and a little curious
“What is th-“
“Eyes shut, Styles!” Louis stated, drinking from the beer bottle lodged into his fist.
As Harry closed his eyes, covering them for extra security with his palms, chuckles were heard and the soft clicks of heels found their way to his ears; and that’s when he knew what they’d done. And he wanted to feel angry, because he told Ed he wanted nothing of the sort, but he found it humorous. A stripper was shuffling across the grass, a maid’s uniform tightly on her body as Harry dropped his hands to his sides.
“Mr Styles, you dirty boy. Someone needs to tidy you up,” she sternly put out, wiping his face with towel she had in her hand, her body falling into his lap and her arms hooking around his neck. She smelt of strong perfume, almost wanting to make Harry throw up into her lap, but he wanted this to be good for the lad’s around to cause a show. He could slowly feel the woman grind against his hips, her lips close to his as she whispered against his skin. “Someone needs to teach you how not to be a dirty boy, Mr Styles,” she whispered, pressing herself against his body.
“Go Harry!”
“Harry’s going to get some. Holy shit!”
But he wasn’t feeling it. He felt awkward. He shouldn’t be doing this; he felt he was cheating on you, being unfaithful, and going against his promise of no strippers. What was he to do? He couldn’t move, he couldn’t do anything, and he felt it he looked at her then everything would turn hectic. His palms were curled around the arms of the patio chair, his feet planted to the floor as he felt a blush form on his cheeks.
“I’m sorry, I can’t. Lads, I told you,” Harry stated, looking to where a giggling and drunken Grimmy was most definitely filming for Snapchat; a panic feeling coursing through his body. You had Grimmy on Snapchat, and even though you were probably drunk of your arse, he didn’t want you to see it. “No, I’m sorry. I’ll just, I’ll pay for everything here for hiring her, but I’m not sitting her through a strip show.”
He felt more sophisticated than that. He wasn’t a typical bachelor about to be married, he was in love with one person, and that one person being the only person he would see naked or half naked; and that person was you. He didn’t want to be the one to turn down something like this, but it wasn’t his style and that’s why he’d said about it.
“I’m sorry. I’m uhm; I’m going to go home, anyway now. I promised (Y/N) I’d be home before her to look after her when she came in. Hence the three beers I’ve had,” Harry said, as the stripper stood from his lap and stood awkward behind the chair he stood from. “It’s 2 in the morning anyway, I’m sure we can have another meet up in the week, and we can definitely do something before the wedding. I’m going to Ed’s for the night before, so…” Harry said, and the lads nodded softly. “Thanks for a good night.”
And with that, he shuffled out the back gate and pulled his phone out for a taxi.
* *
As he pulled on his pyjama bottoms, he could hear the door open downstairs. Followed by a loud cheer and a giggle coming from you; he could tell it was you from a mile off. A chuckle left his lips as he tied his hair back into a bun, before proceeding out the bedroom and standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at the sight below. His mum was holding you up right as you slouched against her side, your head rolled back and looking up at the ceiling.
“Looks like someone had a good night, huh?” Harry said, as he started his way down the stairs and laughed at how quickly your head popped up, a drunken smile on your lips. “Hi, baby. Did you have a good night?” He wondered, standing in front of you and cupping your elbows in his palms. He looked across to his mum, and sent her a smile as she pressed a kiss to your forehead and looked to her son.
“She’s had a very good night, sweetheart. I have her mum, Alice and Gemma in the car. Liam came to pick up Sophia as she started being sick, so we thought we’d call it a night. 2:30am. That’s pretty late,” Anne laughed, as Harry chuckled and looked to the front door. “We’ve got the presents she’s been given in the boot. Do you want me to bring them in?” Anne wondered, as Harry nodded softly and looked down to your hunched over figure against his chest.
“If I get this one laid on the sofa with some water, I’ll pop out and help. Say hi to Alice and Gem, and come get them,” he smiled, as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to the sofa. The feeling of cushions beneath your back felt soothing and almost heavenly, and you whined when you lost the feeling of Harry’s warmth. “I’ll be right back, baby. I promise. I’ll get you some water, and then I’ll go out and say hi to Alice and Gem before coming back inside. I won’t leave you for long,” he smiled, as Anne rushed back into the living room with a glass of water. “I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead and standing up from his crouching position.
Once he stepped out into the cold air, he instantly regretted his decision and wished he was up in bed with you clinging to his body. The boot of Anne’s car opened and he looked at the minimal boxes and gift bags that you’d received from your family and friends.
“Harry, there’s my best buddy in the whole frickin’ world,” Alice slurred, rolling the window down from the back of the car, and thrusting her upper half out as she pulled Harry into a hug. “Your missus is so fun. I love her. She told us some things and you-“
“Alice, sh. Neighbours,” Harry whispered, as Alice grinned and shook her head. “I’ll see you some when in the week, okay? When you aren’t pissed, drunk or even intoxicated,” Harry chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead before unhooking her arms from his neck and standing up straight. “See you soon, okay? Get some good sleep, and we’ll organise a catch up soon.”
And with that, the window rolled up and Anne dropped the boxes into his arms.
“I think you’ll be shocked as some of the presents are rather… interesting,” Anne smiled, hooking the gifts bags onto his fingers and closing the boot up. “Now, go and take care of your missus. She needs some lovin’. I’ll see you soon,” she said, leaning up on her toes and pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“I’ll see you soon, mum. Tell Robin I hope he gets better soon; need him healthy for the weekend, ya’know?” Harry said, pressing a kiss to his mum’s cheek before starting his way up the garden path. “It’s a shame he couldn’t come to my one tonight, he would have loved it,” Harry chuckled, standing at the doorway of the house. He was mere inches from stepping inside, and he could feel the warmth radiating from inside the house; he wanted it.
And as the car pulled away down the road, he was instantly inside and nudging the door shut with his foot. All he needed now was a cuddle with you before you woke up groggy and whining and incredibly hungover, demanding a fried breakfast cooked by him and a constant trip to the bathroom in order to throw up the contents of your alcohol crazed induced night.

Notes