AUGUST 2017.
“I don’t want to go home, H. I want to stay here and never leave,” you whispered from your seat opposite him in the coffee shop outlet of the airport in Kamari. The smell of cooking food and coffee processing in machines filling the atmosphere with a homely feel that reminded you of mornings back in London; mornings that consisted upon a kitchen filled with cooked breakfast foods and coffee and tea setting an aroma in the confined space of the London home. “Can we stay here? I’m really wanting to buy a house out here and live here whenever I want too,” you added, reaching for the white coffee mug set in front of you.
A deep chuckle left Harry’s mouth from where he was sipping at his bottle of water, a bacon sandwich sitting on a napkin in front of him and waiting for him to take a hungry bite from the bread and the meat within it. His hair was pulled back into a bun *** and a white t-shirt *** was hanging down his upper body, paired with a pair of denim shorts *** which you recognised as a present from his mother after he’d complained about not having enough summer clothes for holidays in the future. You had insisted on taking him shopping one afternoon where you were both free from work but he had insisted he would be find with the clothes he had pushed back into the corner of the wardrobe of your bedroom; however, he had also insisted you go clothes shopping for him since you were sure of what would suit him well and what wouldn’t - you’d been with the man 5 years and you’d grown accustomed to the clothes he was more commonly wearing and you were in the mix of being the one to give input to clothes he had picked out in the past for award shows or special performances.
“Maybe that can be a Christmas present. What do you say? I buy us a villa out here for us to visit anytime we want too. We can come whenever we have a break or when you finish at the nursery for different terms. It’ll be wicked,” he grinned, setting his bottle of water down on the table and crossing his leg over his other. His bright and clean white converse *** catching your attention under the lights of the airport building, and his tanned legs were evident to your eyes as you looked up his body. A flush finding it’s way to the apple of your cheeks when you caught eye contact with him, a humoured smirk sitting on his plump and pink lips. “Enjoying yourself there?”
“Shu’’up, asshole. You’re my husband. I can stare at you all I want,” you smirked, setting the rim of your mug to your lips and taking a hearty sip of the warm liquid inside. “What time do we fly back? I really just want to have a mug of proper English tea and some proper pancakes and god, I just can’t wait to hug your sister and your mother and Robin and I’ve missed everything but this has been such a good holiday, I don’t want it to end,” you murmured with a sigh, as you set your mug down on table top and picked at a random string falling from the cuff of your white jumper *** that you’d opted to wear for comfort on the plane journey.
“I’ve been getting texts from Gem for the past two weeks saying how she misses you and how she can’t wait to take you out for the day when we get settled back home,” Harry smiled, his eyes casting to the board above your head as he looked to see whether your gate had been announced for the flight back to Gatwick in London. “I’ve lost my missus already. To my sister. Fantastic,” he stated with a hint of amusement and sarcasm lacing with his voice. “Like, I love my sister but sometimes I just need you for my own benefits sometimes. It’s always empty when you leave me in the house alone, even if you are going out to work.”
“You can always come and sit in the classroom with me. And you can always come and see me at lunchtimes when I’m free,” you smiled, reaching for his hand to get his attention to you. “The kids in my class love you, baby. When you came in that one morning to drop my laptop off, they wouldn’t shut up about you. ‘(Y/N), when is Harry come back?’, ‘(Y/N), will Harry come and see us again?’, ‘(Y/N), is Harry your boyfriend?’. You should hear the questions, H. They adore you,” you giggled, running your thumb across his knuckles and smiling as the cool metal of his wedding ring came into contact with your thumb. You had a point - the 3 year olds of the nursery you were hired at had been hooked onto Harry since the day he’d stepped into the classroom with your laptop under his arm and a coffee in his thermal mug lodged into his tight grip. All eyes were on him - wide and curious - as he looked around the class and gave a sheepish grin upon his lips as he sent a soft wave to the children and watched as smiles lifted at the corner of their lips. “Honestly, you can always come in and help me with the little art classes and music classes. Oh, maybe you could sing to them with your guitar. That would be ador-“

“Baby, ssh. I’ll come in when I’m free. We’ve got this proper media and performance hiatus coming up at the end of this year, so I’ll be able to help you more at the beginning of next year. Sound good?” He smiled, as captured your fingers between his in a tight hold. A ding across the airport intercom sounded around the airport followed by the Greek language to which you could only guess was something about a departure flight gate now open and ready to allow people to board the plane. “Oh, that’s us, baby. Gate 4. We can go board now.”
“Finally. I just want to board this plane and get home. Where we can officially start our life. Our marriage. As soon as we step foot off that plane, we officially start our life together,” you murmured more to yourself than Harry as you stood from your seat in the coffee shop outlet and placed the strap of your shoulder-bag *** over your shoulder and letting it hang down your body. You had no intentions of Harry hearing but by the way his arms snaked around your waist and his lips peppered kisses to your neck, you knew he’d heard what you said and you knew that from the feeling of his kisses, he was happy to start a life together back in London. “Let’s go home, shall we?”
“Let’s go home, baby.”
* *
“Aren’t you a little cutie? Are you a little model, hm? You’re gorgeous,” Harry cooed to the tiny baby girl on her mother’s lap in the plane seat beside him. Her tiny hand was wrapped around his index finger in a tight hold, the fingertip being brought to her fleshy lips as Harry chuckled lowly and watched as her mother pried her tiny fingers from around Harry. “She’s alright. Anything to help a little precious bug like herself,” he smiled, looking to the mother who had a firm grip around the small 7 month old baby’s belly. A smile was pulling at the corner of Harry’s lips as he looked to the tiny baby who was cooing softly and staring at her kicking feet that were hitting against her mothers thighs.
He looked like a natural. A born father to a child that wasn’t his own - yet a strangers baby who he felt lucky had struck him when she sat down beside him in the row of plane seats. As soon as the mother had sat in her seat, the baby was immediately attracted to you both, taking an interest upon the bracelet *** upon your wrist and taking an interest upon the rings *** on Harry’s fingers; as well as the flesh upon his fingers that she has taken a liking too as the plane made it’s way into the air - a sort of relief for her ears as the air pressure changed. As the flight continued, his attention was split between the small baby and yourself but, you couldn’t sit there and complain because it was your husband with a baby; something that was a heart-warming sight to see and something that you couldn’t wait to give him in the future.
He’d had a history of being the member to adore babies and pregnant women and it warmed your insides when he pointed the young children out in shows or feigned baby bumps *** when he saw even the slightest bump in the crowd of one of their shows. It always lead your thoughts of the future to where you knew Harry wanted to be - a father to a healthy group of children to call his mini Styles’ who would be running around the house with their tiny feet, heads full of curls and voices as heavenly as Harry’s. And, being his wife, you had felt the obligation to give him what he had always wanted - of course, you wanted it just as much. To be the woman to carry his children, to be the woman who got to raise his children to growth and to be the woman who got to raise the children to the age that they would leave home to University yet come home on Sunday’s for traditional dinners or for birthdays and anniversaries.
However, you didn’t want to rush. Rushing was not part of your agenda - you wanted to enjoy the feeling of being married to your best friend, and you wanted to enjoy Harry to yourself before you had the worries and the stresses of a pregnancy and the specialty of life when you watched your children turn from newborn babies to full grown adults with their own lives. There were so many places you wanted to visit with Harry and explore together as you learnt the cultures and took in the landscapes and the scenery and the environment as he snapped photos constantly upon his cameras.
“Are you going for nap, precious? I’ll let you have a nap and I’ll see you when we land,” Harry smiled at the baby, watching as she dropped his finger and snuggled into her mothers neck. As she snuffled softly and closed her blue eyes, Harry’s attention turned to you with a smile on his lips and a flushed pink colouration on his cheeks as you looked at him with a soft smile. “I want a baby.”
“You-you want a baby? Harry, love, we’ve only just got married,” you whispered, turning in your seat to cup his face in your hands. “I want a baby with you too, but not right now. Harry, love, we’ve only been married for 2 weeks. I want to explore the world with you and I want to to things together before we get tied down the idea of looking after a baby. I love you, so please don’t take that the wrong way,” you whispered, running the pads of your thumbs underneath his eyes.

“I didn’t mean like, right away. Give it a few months, maybe? I want to keep you for myself first. But, I really want a little baby to look after. To see you nurture and to see a baby tucked into your arms and sleeping on your chest when I come home from work. I can’t wait to start a proper life with you,” he winked, turning his face and pressing his pouted lips to the palm of your hand. His upper lip dusted with a coating of scruff and tickling at your skin causing a giggle to leave your lips. “Now, give me a hug and let’s have a sleep. I could use it. Flying makes me tired,” Harry chuckled, placing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side.
* *
JANUARY 2018.
“Hi, darling. You look drained,” Harry *** chuckled, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt buttoned halfway up his chest as he opened the front door after hearing your car pull up in the driveway. The crunching of stones gaining his attention from where he was standing at the oven in the corner of the kitchen stirring the pasta for the dinner he was cooking for you, the wooden spoon in his hand being placed down on the counter top as he shuffled his socked feet out of the kitchen and through to the hallway leading to the front door. “Tough day?” He asked, over the bang of the front door closing
“Look at my bum. Look,” you stated, a hint of amusement in your voice as you lifted the hem of your t-shirt up and let your handprint stained jeans come to Harry’s view. Small, purple handprints were pressed to your black jeans *** as well as soft splatters of paint speckled up and down your thighs. “The kids found it funny to press hands to my bum. They caught you squeezing my bum this morning when you dropped me off, and now they think it’s a good thing to do,” you giggled, snaking your palms up his chest and setting them at his shoulders, your fingers dragging through his curls. “But, yes. It was an extremely tough day. I swear. I’m just so glad it’s Friday,” you whispered, dropping your head to his chest and letting out a puff of breath.
“Those kids are nicking my missus. That’s not cool. I’m going to have to come in and teach those little cheeky things a lesson, what do you say?” Harry teased, a smirk on his lips as he pressed his palms to your bum and tapped his fingers against the jean-covered flesh, chuckling as you let out a squeal and swatted softly at the back of his head. “Right, I’m going to open that bottle of red wine, we’re going to eat some spaghetti carbonara made specially by your husband and then I’m going to run you a bath. You look tired so let me do the hard work tonight, yeah?”
You smiled against his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to his body, his chin resting on top of your head as he closed his eyes and let out a heavy puff of breath. A grumble left your stomach, followed by a soft giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him as his curls fell down his face and bordered his face outline.
“Can we eat? I’m sorry, I’m just so hungry. I had a panic at lunchtime when one of the kids fell over and I didn’t get to eat all my lunch,” you muttered, a smile lifting your lips as he gave you a soft nod and pressed his pouted lips to your forehead. “I’m going to get in my pyjamas and then I’ll be down to eat. Is it nearly cooked?”
“It’s nearly done, yeah. Hurry up and get dressed and I’ll put these jeans in the wash for you and then we can get rid of the handprints. The cheeky buggers,” Harry laughed, unwrapping his arms from around your waist and watching as you kicked off your flat shoes, letting them knock against the skirting board of the floor just below the porch desk containing a bowl for the house keys and car keys - Harry’s house and car keys already left in the bowl due to his day being spent in the house, tidying and cleaning up to make the house immaculate to prove to you that he wasn’t lazing around the house on his break from work.
Something you were happy to say was one of the reasons you loved and married him.
* *
The soft melody of Augustana played around the bathroom, echoing slightly as it reached your ears, giving the room a romantic yet relaxing vibe to it. The candles he’d lit were vanilla and cinnamon scented - a wedding present from his mother and Robin - were adding the romantic feel of the room and as you stepped further into the room, you were hit in the face with the smell of the coconut bath gel and body wash that Harry had brought from The Body Shop on his way through the shopping centre in London one afternoon after the New Year had come and gone. Mixed in with the scented atmosphere was a bottle of champagne and the half empty bottle of red wine from dinner was set upon the corner vanity of the bath with a couple of scrunchies for your (and Harry’s) hair.
He was up to something.
He cooked dinner. He took care of washing the dishes. He washed your jeans for you and made sure that the paint stains were clear from the denim. And he ran a bath and turned the bathroom into a romantic suite that deemed fit enough for a 5 star hotel - one that you were accustomed to when travelling with Harry whilst he was on tour and touring the countries. He was softly-spoken all evening and he was always making sure you had enough food on your plate or seeing whether you had enough wine in your glass to keep your thirst at bay and he was adamant to know how your day went. He didn’t have any interest in explaining his day to you - he wanted it to be your night.
Behind you, his footsteps were heard walking up the stairs. A soft clear of his throat leaving his mouth as he emerged in the doorway of the dark bedroom; the only source of light was the candlelight coming from the bathroom. You scanned his silhouette body as he wandered over to the window and drew the curtains, adding to the darkness already in the room, followed by a clink of his belt and a grunt as he tucked over to pull his socks from his feet. Leaning against the frame of the bathroom, you couldn’t help but watch as the man you loved undressed himself without a care in the world of how he looked to you - you were married. He married you so he felt no obligations to even feel shameful about how he looked in his naked form.
“Even in the darkness of the room, I can still feel you staring at me,” he stated, breaking the silence between the both of you. His shirt was soon tossed onto the bed and ready for you to slip on when you were finished in the bath and ready to sleep in the bed and his boxers were discarded and left in a heap with his jeans. “I can see you in the light of the bathroom, and you are not naked. You can’t bathe in clothes. That’s not a good idea,” he laughed, a soft giggle leaving his lips rather than a bellow.
“I’m just waiting. I thought you could undress me,” you whispered, a tone of seduction lacing your voice as you felt the gap between the both of you get smaller and smaller. As he stepped closer to you, his facial features began to light up and become visible under the candle-light whilst his eyes shined brightly beneath the only source of light entering the room. “Your eyes are beautiful. Have I ever told you that?” You cooed, shivering as you felt his hands snake around your waist and pressed against the small of your back.
“I do know you have a thing for my eyes,” he admitted, lifting the shirt from your body and throwing it haphazardly over his shoulder without a care in the world to where it landed. “I love your eyes. They’re my favourite. And your cute little nose. And your lips. They are heavenly. Not only against my own lips but they feel good when they’re wrapped around me in our states of euphoria,” he teased, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your knickers and pyjama trousers, pulling both pieces of clothing down in a swift motion and letting them pool into a heap of cotton at your feet. “That’s better. I don’t feel so different now. I like seeing you naked, you know that?”
“Hmm. You have a habit of getting me naked all the time, so, either you love it or you just love to embarrass me,” you giggled, tugging at his curls to bring his face closer to yours. “You want to tell me what this is all about, hm? Why are you being so lovely this evening?” You asked, smiling as he walked you into the bathroom and left the door ajar, before he stepped into the tub and groaned out in pleasure as the warm water soothed and washed over his aching ankles and feet.
“Come sit and I’ll tell you.”
You kicked a leg over the side of the tub, keeping a tight hold upon Harry’s hands in order for you not to fall over and slip about, pulling your other into the water and settling down between his stretched out legs. Your naked back pressed against his bare chest, with his arms around your waist and his palms flat on the top of your thighs. You heard him gulp loudly before twisting you around slightly and catching your eyes with his. He looked nervous. Nervous and scared and almost fearful - and it began to set a worry filter through your veins. His eyes were darting around the room and his toes were continuously curling and uncurling as if he was trying to keep his mind occupied whilst he explained why he’d gone so far out this evening.
“We’ve been married for over half a year now. And it’s been the best few months of my life. I swear to god, I love you so, so, so much. You’re everything to me and I’ve got no regrets so far into marrying you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more and I can’t thank you enough for making me so happy,” he started, his cheeks flushing pink as he caught your eyes for a brief second, “and we’ve been taking things slowly and I know we said we wanted to wait for a year or two, but, I just want to take us to the next stage. I’m ready to properly settle down with you and I’m ready for whatever life throws at us,” he whispered, taking your hands within his, “I want a baby. I want to start trying. I really think we’re ready and we’ve been married for over half a year and everything is going so smoothly and I just want to have a baby with you to show you how committed I am to everything. I love you and I want t-“
You instantly cut his rambling off with a passionate kiss being pressed to his lips, your arms snaking around his neck and your hands dug and raked through his hair at the back of his head; the strands soft and silky and smooth against your fingertips. Within moments later, you pulled away. A smile on your lips.
“Harry Edward Styles, my darling husband, I would want nothing more than to have a baby with you. I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I want to give you a baby and just settle down with a family. “I want you to put a baby in my belly, Harry. I want to give you the family you’ve always wanted.”
“I love you, Mrs Styles,” he whispered.
And boy did he love you a lot.

Notes

Here we have it. The first One Shot for Harry’s Pregnancy Series. I am so excited for this series - I can’t wait to see how it all turns out and to hear all your feedback along the way. This is going to be one hell of a good series, I can tell. ;)