Your Harry Fantasies.

“Deep breaths, sweetheart. Deep breaths. It’s our turn,” your dad whispered, and as soon as you stepped into the room, gasps and soft coos and awes were heard. And that was it.
All eyes were on you.
* *
July 21st, 2017
12:15pm.
Left foot.
Right foot.
Left foot.
Right foot.
Don’t trip, you thought to yourself as you kept your eyes locked in front of you. Looking down at your feet just quickly, you gave them a slight warning to keep up with the walk and to not give out. They were covered by the hem of your wedding dress ***, and adorned with the heels *** you’d ordered and had delivered specially for Macy’s in America. You couldn’t deal with the embarrassment of falling in front of the families and friends you’d invited to the biggest day of your life, and it would be funny in the future days to come when stories of the wedding day would come about, but you didn’t want to go through the humiliation of falling on such a special occasion.
Your dad’s hand was warm against your own as his arm slid through yours, the wedding march being sounded around the small barn venue as you stepped foot at the end of the aisle. This was it. Harry was standing there, just mere footsteps away from you and it took everything in your body not to rush and cry down the white carpeted aisle and jump into his arms, crying and sobbing and whining that the night was too long and you couldn’t bear the thought of being away from him for so long again. All eyes were on you, and you couldn’t ignore the fact that it felt good – the nerves just exiting your body as soon as you walked past the first row of guests. You were pretty sure you could see the backing band and their girlfriends, the boys’ families and James and his wife wiping tears from their eyes as you sauntered slowly past them.
“You’re doing so well,” your father whispered across to you, your eyes welling up as you looked at the row you were walking beside. Harry’s aunt and uncle, Dee and Mike, were sitting there with tissues bundled in their hands as they gave you a warm smile. His cousins grinning from ear to ear as you started the journey of life with their family and flesh and blood. “I’m so proud of you. We’re nearly there,” he whispered, as your head turned to look at the front of the venue. Harry had turned his neck, craning it round to catch a glimpse of how beautiful you were – tears welled in his eyes as he looked you up and down, his bottom lip trembling as he grinned widely; his teeth shining brightly beneath the light coming from above and from the outside world, and the colours of the room. It was happening, and neither of you could believe it.
A soft cry left your aunts lips as you walked past her, your hand brushing her shoulder soothingly as you looked down at her and gave her a smile that could brighten up anyone’s day. It was something Harry had said on a daily basis – your smile was enough to brighten anyone’s day, including the best of days when everyone was having good times with those around. Your younger cousins were cooing about the dress on your body, and your uncle was trying to shush them quietly. A soft laugh coming from his lips as he caught eye contact with you and sent you a soft wink.
Before you knew it, you were up the front. Standing beside the guy who in just over an hours’ time would be your husband; the one you were spending the rest of your life with, the one who was going to be there when you woke up and the one who got to see you in all your glory when you clambered out of the bath and he insisted upon sharing with you. Harry was the one to witness life alongside you with no man getting in the way. He was yours, and you were his, and neither of you were bothered by sticking with one another for the rest of your life.
“Look after my little girl, Harry. I have full trust in you,” your dad whispered, as he gave your hand a tight squeeze before pressing his lips to the back of it. The next time you were to be holding that hand, you were to be a married woman. No longer needing her father’s comfort as much as she used to when she was a small girl, because she had Harry’s to snuggle into when she needed it. “Thank you for being the one to steal her heart, Harry. We appreciate you and love you like a son,” your dad added, before he placed your hand in Harry’s awaiting one and shuffled away with an almost-discrete wipe of his eye. Harry’s hand was warm, and was enough contact to send butterflies fluttering around your tummy, and enough to send tingles to your intimate areas.
“You look gorgeous, my lovely,” Harry whispered, as the both of you turned towards the vicar, their book opened in their hands as she looked towards you both with a warm smile on her lips. “Let’s get married, missus,” he added, smiling widely as you let out a soft giggle – the sound was melodic to his ears.
“Dearly beloved,” the sweet sound of the vicar started, as both you and Harry situated yourself in front of her. Your hand held tightly into Harry’s as it hung limply down between the both of you. Soft shuffles were heard from either side of you, as the boys whom Harry had assigned groomsmen sat down in their awaiting chairs with grins and smirks on their faces as they looked across at the bridesmaids who were doing to same, holding tightly to their bouquets of flowers as they settled down on the padded and comfy white chairs. “We are gathered here in the sign of God, and in the face of his company, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is commended to be honourable among all men. Into this holy estate, these two persons present here now come to be joined. And if any person can show just cause why they may not be together, let them speak now or you forever hold your peace,” she continued, looking behind the both of you for any volunteering people to stand up and comment about the marriage and comment upon whether you should marry this man standing beside you or not.
Nothing was said.
“Through marriage, Harry Styles and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) make a commitment together to face their disappointments, embrace their dreams, realize their hopes, and accept each other’s failures. Harry Styles and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) will promise one another to aspire to these ideals throughout their lives together, through mutual understanding, openness and sensitivity to each other,” she stated, her head tilted down to the readings in her book. And as she done so, you looked up for a quick glance at the man standing beside you, only to realise that he was already staring down at you, with adoration and love filling his green orbs. He didn’t tell you enough that this was what he wanted – he wanted to settle down with you and he wanted this life with you and he didn’t care what anyone said because this is what he wanted.
“Marriage is an act of faith and a personal commitment as well as a moral and physical union between two people. Marriage has been described as the best and most important relationship that can exist between them. Marriage is a lifelong consecration of the ideal of loving kindness, backed with the will to make it last,” she added on top, looking between you and Harry and pressing a warm smile onto her lips, her book closing in her hands as she looked around at everyone and nodded. “I am lead to believe that the two of you have written your own vows to say to one another?”
You looked up to Harry as he nodded. His curls falling over his shoulders as he looked down at his feet and looked back up at the vicar.
“We have, yeah.”
“Okay. Harry, you may begin,” she smiled at him. The sound of his hands patting at his trouser pockets as well as the pockets of his suit jacket, before his hands dipped into the constraints of his back trouser pocket and pulled out paper that you knew oh too well.
Harry coughed slightly with his hand covering his mouth, before he unfolded the tea-tinted coloured paper and his scrawny handwriting came into your view – handwriting that seemed to illegible but so endearing and making you want to read whatever he’d written in his journal.
“I never thought that I’d be here at the front of the aisle and standing beside my gorgeous, beautiful and stunning soulmate so early in my life. Yes, we’re 23. Yes, we got criticised for being so young. Yes, we had our obstacles along the way, but we surpassed them and we became the strongest we’ve ever been. Stronger than a rock, and I couldn’t be happier. I feel so in place when I’m wandering around London with you, and I feel at ease when I’m at the studio with the thought that you’re at home snuggled in my hoodie and tucked under my blanket on the sofa with a rerun of my Friends boxset playing on the TV,” he said, as the guests settled in their seats behind you let out a chorus of laughter and coos. “When I’m with you, I’m just Harry. I’m not the Harry Styles from One Direction; I’m just your Harry. I am your crazy, loving, mad, and absolutely hilarious Harry. Nothing more, nothing less, and I am so glad you’re the one to bring that side of me out and I’m even happier that you see through that Harry Styles of One Direction façade.”
“I vow to be the best friend you’ve always wanted,” he started, as giggle leaving your lips as you thought back to those first few months of meeting him, with your favourite memory popping into your mind. He was your best friend to begin with, and nothing could even succumb to getting in the way of that. No matter what happened, he was always considered the best friend you could have ever asked for.
It was 7am. He was hungover. Massively. A headache pounding at his temples and his belly churning beneath the comforter of a bed he recognised from having spent countless nights being snuggled beneath it when he just wanted some of his best friends comfort. The sheets were white, and there was lump beside him, breathing heavily with her body turned to face away from his. Her hair was tied up into a bun, and she had a shirt that he recognised to be her ‘The Beatles’ shirt he had brought her as a gift for being there for him when he needed her. You were there for him in his times of trouble and you were always his shoulder to cry on. When he called you late at night because some girl had broken his heart, you always welcomed him into your tiny apartment complex with a mug of his favourite tea and some biscuits you kept for times like that.
Without you, he’d have been a complete mess, and without you, he would have been the most boring person to walk to the planet. In his mind, you brought him out of his shell and made him who he was and he couldn’t be any more thankful for that.
As he watched you continue to sleep, and as he continued to let thoughts roam his aching head, he couldn’t help but feel the material upon his hips become tighter and constraining himself tucked into his pants. He didn’t want to think of you in that way – although he couldn’t help but think, did you think of him in that way? You were best friends. Did best friends think about each other like that? He felt a thin layer of of sweat cover his body as he felt himself grow harder and harder within his boxers, his jeans discarded upon the floor and his shirt piled on top of your dirty t-shirts and underwear in the corner of the bedroom.
As he kicked his legs out from under the duvet, and let his bare feet hang over the end of the too small bed, he had some hope in his body that the cold air of the room would kill his thoughts and his little morning wood would die down, but it didn’t, and with that, he let out a loud sigh. Instantly regretting it when you rolled onto your back and rubbed at the sleep in your eyes; your morning voice sweet and soft to his ears.
“Harry, are you okay? I swear to god, if you throw up on my carpet, you can clean it up. You already puked on your shirt last night, I can’t deal with more throw up,” you murmured. And that would explain why his shirt was in your dirty laundry pile. “Are you okay? You want me to get some headache pills from the bathroom?” You asked, turning your head to look at him, his eyes doe and sleep filled – almost like he hadn’t got any sleep at all recently.
“I’m okay. I’ll go get it myself. I need a wee anyway. Ana glass of water. I’m fine,” he smiled softly, and looked at you. He knew you were tired. It was a Sunday morning and you had no work and you were probably unaware that there were two seven o’clocks on a Sunday since you were so prone to sleeping in till lunchtime on a Sunday morning. “Just go back to sleep, and I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” He smiled, watching as you closed your eyes and fell back asleep, your soft snores being heard moments later. And boy was he thankful for that.
As he carefully slid out from under the bed covers, his bare feet hit the carpet of the small bedroom and his eyes immediately looked towards his crotch – a tent like shape forming in his tight boxer briefs. And he wished that he never wore those out Saturday evening, because he felt uncomfortable and chaffing and it was unbearable to even cope with. He took one glance over his shoulder, before he stood up and speed walked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom next door, the cool tiles cold against the pads of his feet as he closed the door and switched the light on.
He instantly tugged at the material and let himself free from the tight hold he had inside his boxers, and he gripped a hold of the vanity counter where your sink was located with a toothbrush set out that he had probably used last night to wash away the taste of throw up and alcohol that was left behind in his mouth. He gulped as he felt himself throb on his own, and as he looked down how could see an ooze of a cream-white substance leak from his tip.
Harry groaned out as he reached up for the shower head and twisted at the cold knob for the water to turn on; he had heard about cold water satisfying the unexpected visitor that most men got in the morning. Louis had experienced it many a time, and it was something he had shared with the lads in a moment of weakness when we was caught in the morning, sneaking into the shower of the hotel room he shared with Liam, with a tent in his pants. As he pushed his naked form under the luke-warm shower, he let out a sigh of relief as the jet streams dribbled down his chest and landed at his feet.
“Fuck,” he whispered, as he twitched and throbbed under the water. Harry hung the shower head back in the connecter area so it was held in the right position, and immediately grasped at the shaft that was aching and throbbing for at least some action like a hand job. “Oh, fuck me,” he whispered, as he felt himself pulsate in his hand and he knew it wasn’t going to last long because it had been months since he’d obtained any sexual action. He could feel a fire burn in his belly as he rubbed himself up and down, pumping quickly in hopes it would just occur right away and he could go back and snuggle up with you and talk about his night and how the girl he wanted to take home ditched him and threw her drink over him and that was the reason he drunk himself into the next century.
As he continued to pump his hand, the fire in his belly was getting harder to fight and his thighs and his bum were clenching together and his toes were curling into the shower mat on the shower floor and his other hand was tugging at his hair as he rested his elbow on the tilled wall.
“Oh fuck. Oh, my god. Yes. S’a good feelin’. Oh fuck,” he groans out as the fire within his belly erupted and his eyes rolled back and he took his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down and drawing a slight bought of blood to the surface. “Oh god, yes. (Y/N), so good. Feels so good,” he groans out, rolling head back and gulping down his loud moan as he pulsated one last time in his before he released the build up from the tip. One last twitch before his problem had died down, and he felt his knees shake and quake as he fell to the floor and let out a breath laugh.
“Wow…” He whispered to himself, before he reached to turn the knobs off. His finger pads and his toes had wrinkled and pruned, and his hair was hanging limp down his face; he knew he wasn’t going to smell of sweat or sex or even his orgasm and he could think the water for that – he supposed he could thank Louis for the idea of a cold shower idea whenever there was a problem in the bedroom department.
As he stood from his place in the bathroom shower, he stepped out and grabbed the towel you always hung on the back of the bathroom door, ready to be used and warm and fresh like it came right from the tumble dryer. He tugged it around his hips, and dried off his chest before he stepped out the bathroom door and closed it behind him, his feet carrying him into the room next door. As he stepped into the bedroom, he caught you lying beneath the covers, curled into a ball and it only until he stepped closer to you that you had the pillow over your ears and your iPhone was playing the newest album that One Direction had released through the earphones in your ears.
“(Y/N), what are you doin’, lovey?” He asked, as he tapped your shoulder and watched as you jumped frantically and pulled the earphones in a rush. “You okay? You look panicked. What’s wrong?” He wondered, as you gulped and looked at his chest – the skin still damp and shining beneath the sunlight streaming through the curtains.
“I- Uhm, I’m fine,” you stated, your voice high and pitchy as you avoided eye contact with him and gulped loudly. He kept his hands on his hips as you panicked and frantically looked around the room. Looking anywhere but his green orbs that were staring right at you. He let out a soft chuckle before he walked around to gather his jeans and he looked through the drawer where you kept his extra clothing – since you know what he was like after a Saturday night out on the town.
“Are you sure yo-“
“I heard you!” You blurted out, before cringing upon yourself and curling yourself into a tighter ball. You’d been best friends for almost 5 months, and it was a rare friendship that not a lot of people could feel. You instantly clicked and within the first week, you were sharing beds and laughing at jokes and not at all feeling awkward when people compared you to a couple. You knew deep down you were just friends and Harry and you both knew that was all it was. “In the bathroom, Harry. I heard you,” you murmured.
“Oh. Oh my god, you heard me. I am so sorry,” he whispered, his cheeks flushing pink and his eyes widening in a slight panic. He never knew that the walls to the apartment you stayed in were paper thin. He thought you were sleeping. He didn’t know he was being that loud. “I had no idea I was that loud. Oh my god. I am so sorry. Please don’t let this feel awkward between us. I really ho-“
“Harry, it’s okay. It’s normal, okay? I just, I can’t help but remember you said my name. I heard you say my name, Harry. What are you thinking?” You asked, as he sat on the corner of the bed and rested his elbows on his hands, his palms covering his face as he let out puffs of breath to calm his nervousness. You kicked your legs out the duvet and sat beside him, resting a flat palm to his back and rubbing it softly as he gulped nervously.
“I just, I don’t know. You were there when I woke up, and my head isn’t clear this morning, and I just think that you were there to have as a picture in my mind. I just, I don’t think I’m going to stay here for the day. I need some time to think,” he whispered, as he stood up and tugged his t-shirt from your drawer over his head. “I’m sorry,” he added, standing up as he tugged on his jeans and threw the towel in the dirty laundry.
“Harry, oh my god, sit down! Stop panicking yourself. You look sick and I’m not going to let you drive home with an unclear head and a sickness feeling in your tummy,” you stated, standing up as you followed him out the bedroom, and into the kitchen. You grabbed a hold of his hand, and watched as he jolted and took his hand away from you, his face frightened and panic stricken. “Harry…”
“I think I like you!”
And with that, you felt your heart swell.
“… and I promise to always be there for you if you ever need a shoulder to cry on – I’ll be crying too, of course, because seeing you cry makes me cry. We can watch whatever you want on TV. We can do whatever you want to do. And we can eat whatever takeaway food you want when you or I can’t be bothered to cook. I promise to be the best husband I can be. If you need a cuddle, I’ll welcome you with open arms. If you need some loving, I’ll be waiting on the in my nude form. If you ever need space, I’ll give it to you. I’ll respect your wishes because that’s what a good husband does.”
“I know kids are on your mind, my love, because that’s been our late night pillow talk for a few weeks. But, (Y/N), I promise to respect your views of when you want to have our babies. I’m not rushing you and I most certainly wouldn’t impregnate you unexpectedly, because I respect our intimate times and think more them than just a lousy night in bed. I can’t wait for the rest of our life together, and I’m going to stop here before I start crying,” he whispered, his throat tightening and closing in as he felt his chin begin to ever so slightly wobble and his eyes begin to sting slightly. “And I know that as soon as you see me cry, you’ll start and we’ll be a blubbering mess at the altar. I love you so much, my love, and I can’t wait for our future together. All the love, my missus. All the love.”
You had no idea that tears had seeped through your eyes until you felt the warmth of Harry’s thumb wiping the tears that had dribbled down your cheek. He had a way with words and it was something that you knew his mother had taught him in, teaching him the ideas of poetry and sweet words and how to treat a lady with respectful words and phrases whilst still showering her with love that people could see from a mile away. Anne was settled in the front row, beside Robin and your father as well as Des perched on the end of the row, with her hand covering her lips and her eyes gushing with tear streams that had made you look away from her; the longer you stared, then there was a high chance of more tears flowing and you’d be a blubbering mess before even starting your own vows towards Harry.
“And now, if (Y/N) would like to read her vows to Harry.”
“I have no idea how I am going to compare to that, Harry,” you giggled, reaching into the bridal lingerie bra and pulling out the note you’d tucked securely into place; an idea from your mother, who had carried out the same task when she married your father - a story you remember her vaguely telling you one Sunday afternoon. You carefully wiped at the excess tears left in the corner of your eyes. “Sometimes, I sit here and wonder how I got so lucky. I started off as a fan. Just a simple 18 year old fangirl who fantasized over a future with the lead of the dorky boyband who came third on The X Factor, and somehow I got lucky enough to make my fantasies to come true,” you giggled wetly, your mother giggling loudly and your father bellowing out a laugh. Harry’s cheeks flushed a bright pink as he gave you a wink before raising an eyebrow, whilst his lips curved into a smirk; and you knew that look all too well.
“I never thought I could be this happy, and if I’m to be completely honest standing up here in front of our family and friends, I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. Just ask my mum, or my dad. You’ve brought this outgoing side of me out, and I can tell you, I’m so enthralled that you chose me to marry and not some other girl. I go to sleep at night thinking how the hell did I bag such a hottie? I can’t begin to imagine what you see in me because you travel and see so many beautiful girls and models, yet you still chose to come home to me. And that gives me a sense of confidence,” you whispered, watching as Harry shook his head in disagreement – he would always tell you that you were better than any model.
“You promise me that you’ll be the best husband but the truth is, you’re already the best at what you do outside of the band for me, and inside the band,” you say. “You strut your stuff on stage, you sing your heart out, and you just prove to everyone what you’re made of. You’re already wonderful when it comes to just being my better half, and that is how I am describing you when I take you out. You’re my better half, and I’m not ashamed to admit that,” you grinned, looking up at him for the first time since you started your vows, and instantly regretting so as you caught him in his most vulnerable state. His eyes were full of tears, and there was no way he could hold back them river of tears that were soon to come. “You look after me when I’m sick, and you tease me when I tease you, and you cook for me when I’m too lazy and I love that about you. You’re amazing at just being you, Harry. And I’m the luckiest girl in the whole wide world. I look into the future and see no doubts about any of this, with no regrets in my body.”
“Here I am promising to be the best wife for you. I promise to laugh at your silly jokes even though you tell me them a fair few times every day,” you smirked.
“Hey, hey. I have another joke. You want to hear it?” He grinned, as he turned from where he was making the mugs of tea in the kitchen of his home. You’d stayed the weekend, a 2 year anniversary weekend, where all you did was sleep, watch films and had a little hanky panky in the bedroom. You had one of his button up shirts tugged over your shoulders and a pair of his funky looking superhero boxers that he had tucked away in the corner of his underwear drawer.
“Harry, no. Stop telling me these jokes. Please,” you laughed, as you bit at the piece of toast left on the place in the middle of the kitchen table. The butter stuck to your upper lip, and as you brought your tongue to lick it away, he turned round with two mugs and set them upon the table.
“Please! Please can I tell you? You haven’t heard this one yet,” he grinned, setting a blue and white spotty mug in front of you – a mug you had loved from the moment he had made you your first ever mug of tea. “It’s so funny. I told Liam, and he loved it,” he giggled softly, his face fresh and his acne became more visible; a flaw you loved on him.
“Fine. Fine. I swear to god, your jokes are just the worst, but fine,” you smirked, as he took the half bitten toast from your hand and finished it himself. “Go ahead then. Stop nicking my food and tell me the darn joke, Styles.”
A loud bellow laugh left his lips as he looked at you, wiping his hands on the t-shirt on his upper body before her wrapped his hands around the base of the mug and linked his fingers together. “What did the barman say to the horse as he walked into the bar?” He grinned, and it took everything in him not to laugh out loud in her face.
You rolled your eyes and watched as he waited your answer. You didn’t want to tell him you’d heard the joke before, but it was too cute to watch him giggle when you laughed at him. “I don’t know. What did the barman say to the horse as he walked into the bar?” Your reply came out soft and sweet, and you watched as his face cracked into a laugh.
“Why the long face!” He bellowed out, punching at the table lightly as he bent over in laughter. Yeah, you had heard it before, but watching him as he laughed at his own joke was too cute not to tell him. “Do you get it? Because horses have long faces and the barman asked why he had a long face, like sad and depressed!” Harry added onto his answer, and you swore your felt your body tingle as he laughed softly and ran a hand through his hair.
“And I promise to always remind you that I’m forever yours and that I’m forever grateful for the things you do for. When you spoil me with presents, I may say you shouldn’t, but I secretly love it, just like I know you love when I buy you presents. I know you say don’t waste your money on me, but I want too, because it’s my way of showing I love you that doesn’t include us wriggling beneath the sheets in amorous activities. I do love you loads, Harry Styles, and I couldn’t ever begin to imagine how life would be if I never met you in that coffee shop. I love you so much, and I can’t wait to be your Mrs Styles and I can’t wait to just be in your future, H.”
A soft and nearly inaudible sob left his throat as he covered his face with his hands and cried softly into them. His tears never seeming to end and you were sure he gathered this trait from his mother – his mother and your mother just ever so softly crying into the husband’s shoulder as they looked at the 23 year old man so in love at the top of the altar. You had never thought of yourself as a word genius and you never thought you had such a way with words, and seeing Harry cry had made you not only feel happy with what you’d said, but so much more in love with emotional man who you deemed as your soon-to-be husband.
It took him time to compose himself because when he caught your eye contact it was as if the tears were an immediate reaction to looking at you. You took a hold of his hand, rubbing across his knuckles softly with the pad of your thumb, before bringing his fingers to your lips.
“I love you so much,” he whispered, as you stepped towards him and, with the heels on your feet, you were nearly at the same height. Your eyes, if you were to stare ahead with your back straight, would be staring at the apple of his cheeks just below his eyes, and as you looked at the tear-stained cheeks on his face, it made your heart swell. “Thank you for agreeing to marry me, and I love you so much, and I can’t wait for our future together. I promised I wouldn’t cry, because I’m meant to be the strong guy but, I just love you so much,” he whispered, as you stood up slightly taller and pressed a kiss to his salty-tear covered cheek.
“I love you too, H.”
As you wiped away the last of his tears, the officiant stood to the middle of the altar and gave a warming smile to the both of you. “Shall we exchange the rings? Because I feel you both want to kiss and I don’t want to keep you any longer,” she laughed out, as the venue erupted in a chorus of low and high pitched laughter – Niall’s becoming prominent as he bellowed out a belly laugh and covered his face.
“I’m so surprised they haven’t pounced on one another yet,” Nick called out, earning himself a punch to his shoulder before the guests quietened down from the remark.
“And if we may have the rings,” the officiant smiled, as Tom and Lux appeared carrying the small cushion holding two rings for the both of you; a shining diamond ring for your finger and a golden band for Harry’s finger – one that would contrast against the rest of the rings given to him by his father in the past few years, and those being the one he had opted for not wearing during the wedding day.
“Thank you so much, Miss and Mister Atkins,” the officiant says as they stood just beside you with the cushion held tightly in Lux’s hands. “Do you, Harry Edward Styles, take (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to be your wife, to live together after God’s ordinance, in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon her your heart’s deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her as long as you both shall live?” She asked, as Harry reached over for the ring on the cushion and lifting the shining diamond band up, not before he pressed a kiss to Lux’s head and gave her a wink.
“I do,” Harry smiled out happily, and slide the ring *** upon your ring finger.
“And, do you (Y/N) (Y/L/N), take Harry Edward Styles to be your husband, to live together after God’s ordinance, in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon her your heart’s deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her as long as you both shall live?”
As you reached for the golden ring left on the pillow and held it tightly between your forefinger and thumb, Lux grinned up at you before plummeting herself to your legs and hugging you tightly.
“I love you, Auntie (Y/N),” she whispered, as you combed your fingers through her hair. Her wispy locks held back with the flower pins that Lou had settled upon her hair to match her dress and the petals within the basket she had used just before the wedding had started. You whispered a sweet ‘I love you!’ back to her, before you turned to Harry and watched through the corner of your eye as Tom and Lux settled back down beside Adam and Lou who were watching you both in awe.
“I do,” you whispered, pushing the band *** onto his finger and bringing his knuckles to your lips. “Love you so much,” you mumbled against his skin, before dropping it to his side and smiling up at him.
The officiant coughed lightly to gain the attention of you both, before she looked down at her book and closed it up. “For as much as Harry and (Y/N) have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and there to have given and pledged their troth, each to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving a ring and by joining hands; and in the name of the Father, the Son and of the Holy Spirit, I pronounce that they are Husband and Wife,” the officiant smiled widely, stepping back as you let out a nervous and happy giggle, looking up to your husband with excitement and adoration littering behind your eyes.
“Mr and Mrs Styles, ladies and gentlemen!”
And with that, his hand snaked around your waist and you were pulled closer to the warmth radiating from his body. The suit jacket was soft beneath your fingertips as you dug your nails into the small of his back, and as he craned his neck down to you, his breath fanned across your face – mint smelling and delicate as it flushed across your showing skin. Cheers erupted as his lips met yours in a loving, missing and full of lust kiss, and you knew the passion emitting from the way he was kissing you was enough to leave you stunned and wanting so much more than a love-filled kiss – almost like you wanted to take him right to the hotel room, and take the suit from his body and have your way with your very naked, very beautiful and very handsome new husband.
“Mrs Styles, I love you so much,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours as he spoke ever so gently. His voice soft and fragile and like music to your ears and you felt lucky enough to be able to have that voice play on repeat for you for every day for the rest of your life. “What do you say we get out of here and have a party?” Harry grinned widely, knocking his nose against yours and closing his eyes as he pulled you to his chest.
“That sounds like a great idea, Mr Styles. Let’s go celebrate,” you grinned widely, your cheek smushed against his chest as he cupped your hips in either of his hands and rubbing at the material of your dress.
* *
2:30pm.
Once photographs had been snapped, family hugs and welcomes had been exchanged and kisses and snuggles had been shared, it was time head into the venue of where you were hosting the reception area – that morning you had taken a sneaky look with Anne to see what the party in the afternoon would look like, the tables had been set up just the way you wanted, and the lights were in the right places you wanted them to be in, and the flowers were the right colours. Grey and yellow, and black and white being the theme for the party and it looks extraordinary to your eyes.
As you watched everyone bumble and fumble around to get into the reception party, you stayed in the outside area with Harry; your hands holding his tightly as he looked down at you and immediately felt no regrets for the past two hours of his life. There was no other girl he would have wanted standing next to him, and he was so glad that the 5 months prior to the wedding, you had no doubts at all for what was to happen.
“Can you believe it? It’s been about 45 minutes since we got married and you’ve been my wife for that long,” he grinned, as he swayed on his feet with you as you moved around the freshly cut grass that had been trimmed just for the day. “45 minutes into married life. Any regrets?”
“Are you kidding me? No regrets at all, Harry Edward. I married my best friend. Why the hell would I regret that, huh?” You smiled softly, as you spun around slowly on the grass. The heels of your shoes were digging into the soft soil beneath you and you sunk slowly down with each step you took. “How about you tell me where we’re heading for our honeymoon? I really want to know, H!” You whined, bumping your forehead to the middle of his chest, and letting out a puff of air.
“Baby, just a few more hours. When the speeches come, I’ll let out a massive hint and hopefully you’ll get it,” he grinned, pressing his lips to your head and burying his face into the mass of hair in your up-do. You smelled like strawberries and coconut and it was a smell that Harry adored upon you – it smelt like a cupcake and he could just eat you up and devour you with his lips. His shower gel, however, was a mixture of apple and mint and it was one of your favourite smells that he could have on him – your first being the cologne he sprayed. Any type of cologne he sprayed and it was your favourite because it was on him. And the second was his shampoo and shower gel and anything he used in the bath when he needed relaxing – whether it be your strawberry shampoo because he loved the smell, or whether it be his mint and apple smelling when he wanted to watch you get weak at knees for him. “I promise to let you know. And I am also promising that I packed well for you – it’s a nice place, hot, warm and not a lot of rain and storms. You’ll love it there. The pool is ours, we have a suite booked, and we can do whatever we please.”
He added a wink onto the end, and you knew some dirty and naughty ideas and activities and tasks were flitting through his mind driving him almost nuts for you – pool sex was a main idea sitting in his mind, and he had a feeling you would be 100% up for that; he could easily change your mind into making love to one another. His other idea was walking around in his naked glory like he had no problem with the matter, because he knew it would drive you insane and would fill your body with want for him.
“Are we going to the Caribbean? Somewhere in the Bahamas?” You grinned, as he shook his head, chuckling as your smile faltered and your happy face was replaced with a frown. “I hate you sometimes. 45 minutes in and that’s something I’m beginning to have second thoughts in. If you keep surprising me, this marriage will be a problem,” you teased, running your hand up and down his arm, and tickling at the nape of his neck as you rested your hand in the crook of his collarbone.
“Trust me, you will love this. Let’s go and party and take your mind off of this. Just 3 more hours and you’ll know,” he grinned softly, tilting his face to the side and pressing a kiss to your wrist. “I’m digging some dancing, and I need to let these moves out,” Harry teased, as you stepped away from him and adjusting the strapless chest area to your wedding dress.
“I think you should do something first,” you said, as you poked at his chest with your fingertips. You looked to the buttons done up to his neck, the Saint Laurent bow tie *** hanging loosely down his chest and dangling. “This should go, although you look extremely handsome in it,” you whispered, tugging the bow tie loose and sliding it over his head, before tucking it into his suit jacket pocket. “And you should undo a few buttons, so I – I mean we – get a nice view of the chest area that I get to call mine,” you grinned, looking to where his fingers were nimbly undoing the top four buttons of his white YSL shirt, his chest coming into view and some new additions making your eyes widen.
“What?”
“You grew chest hair ***, mister. That’s very manly. I like it,” you winked, dragging your fingers down his bare skin and watching as he shuddered lightly and a flush warmed at his cheeks. “You’re so very manly, Harold. I love it. Just grow some facial hair, and let your chest hair grow a little and you’ll be a very attractive and very rugged man,” you teased, pressing a kiss to the dimple in his chin before sauntering across the grass towards the entrance of the reception venue.
“You’re cheeky, Mrs Styles!”

Notes