* 3 WEEKS LATER *
The clock set and ticking away upon Harry’s bedside table shone with bright red, luminescent numbers reading 02:35, the lamp he’d switched on low set a darkened shadow across your face as you stayed sleeping in the bed. Unaware of Harry walking around the bedroom, who had stayed awake to make sure the two of you didn’t sleep through the alarm clock that would go off in just about 10 minutes time. He was freshly showered and ready to leave with his shower and bathroom accessories packed inside the suitcase that was waiting at the bedroom door, still unlocked and awaiting your shower gear that he was packing with his own. Every so often, he felt guilt flush through his body as he didn’t want to wake you from your sleep, especially since he’d watched you as you shuffled and rustled around the bed to try and find a comfortable position to sleep in; your body eventually tiring out and falling lax as you curled into a ball and slept burrowed beneath the duvet.
“Baby, come on. You need to get up. I know you’re tired and everything, but we have a flight to catch,” Harry whispered, his voice deep and raspy as he made his way over to your side of the bed and gently cupped your face in his hands and ran his thumbs across your cheeks. “Come on, baby. We’ve got to get going soon.”
“Hmm. Go without me. I’m too cozy and comfortable,” you mumbled, your eyes still squeezed shut as you kept your head burrowed beneath the duvet. “LA can go without me walking their ground for the next few days,” you uttered under your breath, groaning as you felt a dip in the mattress beside your legs. Harry placed himself, dressed up in his airport attire, beside you on the bed with his hand snaking beneath the duvet and up onto your thigh. His hands warm and soft and sending shivers through your spine as he touched at your flushed and hot skin, something that happened on occasion when his skin came into contact with your own.
“Come on, baby. I left you the hot water for a nice shower. We have an hour and a half before the taxi gets here,” he whispered, his voice raspy and cracking from sleep still lingering in his body. “I have everything packed and ready to go. We just need to get you up and dressed and showered and clean,” he chuckled, his eyes moving over the room as he looked to the folded clothes of yours that he’d picked out – one of his hoodies, a white tee and a pair of black and ripped jeans that you’d purchased recently to ensure you were comfy around the waist, with your white Adidas sitting underneath the chair. “Come on, lazy bones. Up you get. I’ll have to get you in the shower myself, and I’m dressed and not ready to get wet again.”
He gained a groan in response, with a shuffle under the sheets as you moved your feet around on the cotton sheets.
“I’m tired, Harry. Piss off for five more minutes, will you? Organize for the taxi to come in the next 2 hours. Or tell it not to come,” you mumbled, your face turning to bury against the pillow beneath your head. “That’s a better option. Can we stay here? The other three can present the award. You have a pregnant wife to look after.”
A smile lifted at Harry’s lips. It still didn’t feel real that he had a wife. Hearing the word tumble from your lips in conversation always made a smile tug at the corner of his lips and his teeth became on show as he listened to you talk, his eyes trained on your lips as he watched you talk to the ones he was remotely close too outside of the band and the touring crew. He still found it strongly exciting that he had a wife; a wife who was with him for the rest of his life, by his side and supporting him in decisions as well as deciding big joint decisions together – choosing the colours for the bedrooms, the tiles for the kitchen, the cushions for the sofas in the living room and attire for outside in the gardens.
Adding pregnant into the mix made is seem so much more surreal to Harry. He was going on to being 24 years old, and he was at the peak of his career with a wife and a baby on the way – something he had dreamt of since the realization hit of just how cute and how snuggly and adorable newborn babies were. Holding his first newborn baby belonging to a family friends of the Styles/Twist family at the start of his adolescence, it sunk in that that was what he wanted. A baby with the love of his life; in fact, over the years, he had thought more and more about families and wanting a wife and children to come home to after work where he could release his stresses and have cuddles and snuggles and have everything be fine again.
He’d dreamt about it for years, and it felt surreal that he was living his dreams at such a young yet mature enough age.
“I do have a pregnant wife to look after. But I have a pregnant wife who enjoys coming to Los Angeles with me. I also have a pregnant wife that can’t wait to show off herself in her new and very expensive dress that goes courtesy with my suit,” Harry chuckled, slowly but carefully removing the thick duvet from on top of your lax and curled up body. “Now, up we get. As soon as you get on that jet, you can sleep some more. I’ll warn the boys to be quiet,” he added, smiling as your t-shirt covered body came into view. “You slept in my boxers again?”
For the past few days, you had found that sleeping with pleated waistband on your pyjama trousers gave you discomfort, and almost always ending up in a cotton heap beside your side of the bed. A heap of plaid on carpet being seen when Harry would make his way to the bathroom for his morning shower, with your bare legs exposed to the air as you kicked the duvet away in your sleep-filled state.
“They’re comfy. And they don’t leave marks on my belly either. And they’re not tight like my sleep shorts,” you mumbled, waving your hand around yourself to find the duvet Harry had delicately moved from you. The white lump sitting further to his side of the bed and revealing your body to the atmosphere. “Harry, you suck. Can you please let me have five more minutes?”
“I can’t, baby. I need you to get up now,” he smiled, running his hand over the curve of your slightly visible bump and chuckling lightly. “Come on. I can’t wait to show the boys your bump. It’s even better in real-life,” Harry laughed, watching as you cracked an eye open. A sleepy yet ecstatic grin sitting on Harry’s lips as he looked down at you with adoration laced on his features. “There’s my beautiful wife. Hi.”
“Hmm. Hey.”
“Come on. Let’s get you in the shower. Then we can pack your bath stuff. I think I still have a few bath bombs still in the bathroom cabinet in the house over in LA,” he smiled, standing up from his place beside you on the bed and letting his feet pad across the carpet. “Up we get, baby. Come on. I’ll go get the shower ready and then we’re underway to getting ready,” he muttered, looking over your curled figure one last time before his feet carried him over to the open bathroom door. “I don’t want to see you still sleeping when I come back. It’s wasting water.”
“Remind me who’s the pregnant one,” you retorted sarcastically, his laughter loud and soft against your ears. “I’m serious. I’m uncomfortable. I’m aching. I’m up almost every hour to pee. I’m eating for two. I’m having trouble sleeping, Harry. I’m telling you that when I reach the months were my belly grows and grows, we’re sleeping in different rooms,” you mumbled, grabbing the duvet and pulling it back over your body.
“We don’t have to sleep in different rooms, baby. We’ll take those months as they come, alright? Now, in the shower you get. It’s nice and warm and I might even treat you to washing you myself,” Harry smiled to himself, emerging in the doorway and sighing when he noticed your sleeping form. His shoulder resting against the doorframe as he folded his arms across his chest and sighed heavily when you didn’t move an inch to his demands.. “(Y/N), come on now. I know you’re tired and all, but you need to get up or I really am going without you.”
“Fine, for god sake, fine.”
“Thank you, baby. As soon as you get in the taxi, you can have a nap before we get to Heathrow and then we can have a big ole’ sleep on the jet. I’ve assigned us the jets bedroom,” he smiled, watching as you sat up on the bed and set your feet on the carpet along the floor. You ran a hand through your knotted hair, with your head tilted to one side, a yawn leaving your lips and becoming the only sound in the bedroom as Harry awaited for you to stand,
“Mm, okay. I don’t mind if one of the other boys wants it. I’m okay,” you grinned sleepily, standing to your feet and slowly making your way towards the bathroom. “Are you staying or are you going to go make me and your baby some food?” You teased, standing in front of him and pressing up on you toes to kiss at the corner of Harry’s lips. “Actually, can we get some McDonalds at the airport? Or on the way to the airport?” You wondered, a grin playing at the corner of your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his head down to yours.
“Do you want a McDonalds breakfast, baby?”
“I do, yes. Baby wants some too. Some hash browns and a bottle of orange juice sounds very appealing right now,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing under the light filtering from the bathroom. “Maybe a bacon sandwich too. They look good.”
He had come to terms that the weirdest cravings were yet to make an appearance in your pregnancy but at that moment in time, he was more than pleased that it was midnight travels to McDonalds – where he was dressed in nothing but a hoodie and a pair of trackie bottoms with a scuffled paid of trainers he’d pulled from the wardrobe, a sleepy look on his face as he parked the car in a spot and preceded to enter for whatever you had been whining for - or to the 24-hour store down the road when you’d run out of ice-cream or the Nutella pot was almost empty and you felt like the world was coming to an end.
“We’ll see what you and the baby feel like when we get to the airport, okay? Might make one of the lads pay for it,” he laughed, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Now, go get in the shower. Get clean and I’ll get your clothes ready.”
“No. No,” you whined out, rolling your head back. “Come shower with me. Shower sex n’all that. We probably won’t get anything in when we get to Los Angeles.”
“We will, baby. We will,” he reasoned, his palm resting flat against the small of your back. “I promise we will.”
“I doubt it. Because you’re the idiot who suggested the boys stay in your house for the next few days. I’m pregnant. I need my sexual needs during the next 4 days,” you groaned, dropping your head to his chest. “If they’re willing to hear you groan out and me cry out ecstasy, then sure thing. I’m sure they can jerk off to the sounds of our fucking,” you grumbled lowly, Harry’s chest rumbling as he let out a deep chuckle.
With the five of you going out for just the four days, Harry had suggested after a couple of beers had entered his system that they could crash in the spare rooms of his Los Angeles home. A cheeky get out of not having the pay for an apartment to rent or a hotel room to book, and it meant you were altogether in a place that felt secure and secluded from the outside world of the state. It meant that you got to see the boys in their natural states – in the mornings, during the evenings, in their pyjamas, or just fresh from a shower and the evidence was clear that it was needed.
However, he hadn’t thought of it as something bad. Harry was one who was forever putting other peoples needs before his own; hence why you felt like the luckiest pregnant wife on the planet because at the mention of one word, he would drop whatever he was doing or had planned to do and he would put your own needs first. In this instance, the idea of sex hadn’t even entered his mind and it wasn’t until you’d mentioned it one morning over coffee that he finally realized a downside to having his band mates stay in his home with him.
“I’m sure we can do it in secret. They’ll be out most nights, so, we’ll have time to ourselves,” he smirked to himself, his mind wandering to the activities you could both carry out in the midst of your trip to Los Angeles, in the master bedroom that was most commonly used when the two of you were over on the continent to visit friends. “They’ll go to the after-parties and everything after the show, so, we’ll have the time after to have some time to ourselves,” he mumbled, your head lifting from his chest.
“Will I have a drunk husband that night, hm?”
“No, definitely not. I’m going to cut back on my drinking and my nights out. Especially since you’re pregnant. Anything can happen when I’m not with you and I don’t want to be drunk and pissed out of my mind if you end up in hospital or something,” Harry reasoned, running his hands up your sides and hitching the tee up your upper body. “Look at that precious bump, huh? It’s so gorgeous.”
“That’s our baby in there, Harry. Our little, tiny baby Styles,” you grinned, dipping your chin to your chest and smiling as he tugged at the material. “You’re eager to get me naked, aren’t you?”
“More eager to get you in the shower and ready for the airport. Shower sex can wait till we get to LA,” he smiled, watching as you raised your arms. “Now, get your cute and pregnant bum in that shower and I’ll bring in a towel for you.”
“Will you wash me, Harry? M’still tired,” you murmured, letting out a soft yawn as he let out a soft coo and nodded. He slid off your tee and dropped it to the floor beside his feet, the material sitting in a heap of cotton on the floor, before he let you tug off the boxers sitting on your hips whilst he shuffled around you and into the bedroom. “How long is the flight to LA? Do I need to pack things to keep me entertained for the flight?”
“Baby, you know how long it is to Los Angeles. It’s 11 hours, so, you can pack whatever you need too. I’ve got my laptop, and the iPad in my carry on bag and you can stick some books in there if you want too,” Harry mumbled to himself, grabbing a towel from the wardrobe and throwing it over his shoulder. He could hear the sound of the running water change, indicating you’d just got in the shower and were letting the water wash over your body.
His feet carried him from the bedroom where he’d grabbed a towel to the bathroom where the lights were blindingly bright and luminescent contradicting against the darkness of the bedroom it was attached too. As he hooked the towel on the door of the bathroom, he fell to his knees beside the shower and proceeded to make sure you had reached every nook and cranny of your body to ensure It was clean and fresh and ready for an 11 hour flight.
“Harry?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Have you thought about baby names and stuff? Like, we need to start planning properly now,” you mumbled, watching as Harry took his place at the entrance of the shower, squirting some shower gel onto a scrunchie and rubbing the soap in with his hands. “I mean, I know we’ve planned out the nursery and everything and where we want the baby to sleep when we come home from the hospital. But we need to name them and maybe come up with god-parents and everything,” you sighed, rolling your head back underneath the water and letting your hair soak with the warmth.
“I’ve had a few names but, I’ve not been too into that. I’ve been planning out the nursery and how we should have the room look,” he smiled. “Like, maybe we could have a nice warm colour that goes well with the rest of the house. We have a grey and white and black theme that goes through the house, and I was thinking maybe we could have a pale brown or skin tone colour as the walls,” Harry suggested, his mind wandering to how the panning of the nursery would look like to him.
The walls painted a pale brown with the white skirting boards around the perimeter of the room adding a bolder look to the walls, a brown cot built just in the corner with wood to match the wardrobe and the rocking chair placed neatly and formally beside the window for early morning rises where he, or you, would sit and rock your baby back to sleep on the chest area as you fed them either an expressed bottle or fresh from the breast.
“Hmm. Or we could use yellow and white and have it be a nice unisex colour as we don’t know the gender yet,” you reasoned, shuddering slightly as the cool soap touched your flushed skin. “Maybe we could have a nice light pink colour if the baby is a girl and maybe a gorgeous light green colour for a boy?”
“I like the yellow idea, baby. That sounds nice. It’s nice and warm and it’s not a disgusting colour that will look wrong in a baby’s nursery. Y’know, like the colour orange or the colour khaki,” Harry smiled, running the scrunchie over your body as the water washed it away from your skin. His hand that was free of anything was gently running up and down your body, holding you still every now and then with the pads of his thumb and his fingers pressed into your flesh. “I mean; we find out the gender of our baby Styles in less than 2 weeks. I’m sure we can wait until then to paint the nursery,” he added, carefully washing over the bump that was protruding from between your hips. The skin being slightly taut and stretched and he could already see stretch marks forming around your bump and upon your hips and thighs at the same time; something he could feel in the mornings or in the evenings when the two of you were snuggled up with one another, his hands roaming your skin absentmindedly.
“You definitely want to find out?”
“Of course. Maybe for our next one, we keep it a secret and be prepared for some surprises,” Harry laughed, dropping the scrunchie in his hands to floor of the shower and watching as soap suds flew from within the material..
“You want more babies with me?” You cooed, reaching for the razor on the side of the tub and handing it to him as he knelt down on the small rug of the bathroom, his hands holding the delicate accessory tightly and carefully. “Don’t you dare cut me, Styles. Or I’ll cut your balls off in your sleep,” you muttered, a smirk on his lips as he took the pink razor from your hands and held it tightly in his fingers. Making sure he kept an eye close on how he was handling the sharp and injurious object.
“I won’t,” he smiled, cupping your calf in his hand as he angled the razor at your skin. “And for the record, I want many children with you. Many, many babies. Enough to make a football team,” he laughed, before sticking his tongue out in concentration and pulled the razor up your legs.
“A football team? I am not putting my vagina through that many babies.”
“Oh, come on, baby. Just think about the cuteness we’d have,” he chuckled lightly. “With my gorgeous genes and your beauty genes, we’d have some pretty damn gorgeous children,” he muttered under his breath. “This little one in here is going to be one that breaks plenty of hearts, I’m telling you,” he whispered, his hand moving from your calf and up to your hip where his thumb ran across your taut skin.
“No matter what, they’ll always be our gorgeous little baby.”
“Of course they will. Our beautiful, gorgeous baby Styles,” he whispered, setting the razor down on the side of the shower floor. His hands ran up to the curves of your bum, pulling you closer to him, his nose inches away from the space below your belly button. “You hear that, baby Styles? We’ll love you either way and you’ll be gorgeous to us and we won’t care because you’re our little baby. You’re already looking gorgeous and people are falling weak at the sight,” he laughed, pressing his lips to your stomach. “How you doing in there? Are you ready for your first flight in mummy’s tummy, hm? You’re coming on a plane with mummy and daddy and we’re going to show you where we’ll take you lots of times in your later life. Los Angeles is a wonderful state,” he grinned, smiling as you ran your wet hands through his hair.
“And if you’re anything like your daddy, you’ll grow up to love that state with your whole heart,” you added teasingly, earning yourself a whine and a frown from your husband. “Harry, I’m starting to think you love LA just as much as you love me and baby Styles. I feel that place is taking up the excess place in your heart,” you giggled, tugging on his hair as he looked up to you.
“It’s a wonderful place. I’m not going to lie,” he smirked. It was evident from his many pictures or Instagram posts or candid shots from paparazzi that he enjoyed being and walking the grounds of Los Angeles. The sun kissing at his skin delicately and tanning his body up with a delicious caramel colour, always bringing out his green eyes or the fuzz and stubble growing along his upper lip and ever so softly on his chin.
“Exactly. Baby Styles will love it too. I’m sure of it. They’ll be just like their daddy,” you grinned, hunching over a pressing a kiss to Harry’s head. “Now, will you do my other leg please?”
* *
“And they have arrived,” Louis grinned widely as he held his arms open wide and shuffled across the floor of the departure lounge. “Hi, love. Oh, I’ve missed you so much,” he cooed, pulling you into a tight hug as you wrapped your arms around him and gave him a tight squeeze to your body. His cologne strong and somewhat tummy tingling as you placed your head on his shoulder, your face turned into his neck. “You look ravishing, my god. Pregnancy looks so good on you, love.”
“Thanks, Tomlinson,” you grinned, tugging the hood off of his head and pressing a kiss to his cheek; a cheek covered in facial hair yet kept trimmed and neat. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. You need to come round more often. I’m going to need all the help I can get when he starts to piss me off,” you laughed, looking over his shoulder as Harry frowned. He was on call for whenever you needed some company after a heated discussion with Harry, and he was always on call for when you just wanted to talk to someone other than Harry about anything baby related.
“Hey,” he dragged out, folding his arms as Niall let out a laugh.
“She has a point. You’ve been here for not even 5 minutes and you’re pissing me off,” Niall stated, earning himself a punch to his arm. A whine leaving his lips as he rubbed at his flesh and kicked and missed Harry’s shin. “Oi, don’t go bruising me up now. I’ve got to look handsome in my suit. No bruises please,” he warned, pushing Harry’s shoulder playfully and shuffling to where his carry-on was sat on a chair.
“Honestly, let’s have a peak at the bump then. Pictures don’t do it justice,” Louis smiled, his hands holding onto yours at arms length as he pulled and tugged at them softly, his eyes cast down to your hoodie clad upper half. “How are you feeling? You’re looking great. Pregnancy looks good on you, it really does,” he repeated, running his thumbs across your knuckles and catching both you engagement ring and wedding ring over the pads. You grinned at him as you pulled your hands from his hold, toying with the hoodie on your body and lifting the hem of the jumper and tee up slightly.
The actions had caught Harry’s attention, and his conversation with Liam was cut short as he slowly turned and stepped cautiously towards you and your best friend.
“It’s not a massive bump, but, she’s got one and it’s cute and adorable and it’s just giving me something extra to love on,” Harry reasoned, stepping beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “It’s small but it shows our baby Styles is growing. She’s all healthy and happy inside mummy’s tummy.” Harry grinned, earing himself a confused look from Louis.
“She?”
“You found out the gender? Dude, that’s amazing,” Liam rushed over, stopping abruptly beside Louis and looking down at the small bump you had on show. “You look so great! Oh wow, look at that baby bump. I saw the photo on Instagram and that doesn’t give any justice. It’s so much more beautiful in real life,” he whispered, as Harry sent him a warm smile.
“We haven’t found out the gender yet. For goodness sake, Harry, shush,” you giggled.
“You definitely want a girl, Harold. You’re smitten with the idea of having a baby girl, Styles. Don’t even deny it,” Louis teased, adjusting his backpack on his shoulders as he felt it slipping down his arm. “I mean, I’ve always wanted a niece and (Y/N)’s going to give me one,” he smirked, watching as you adjusted your tee back over your belly.
“What makes you think you’re an uncle? We haven’t decided on god-parents or anything yet, Tommo,” Harry sighed, a slight smile on his face as you looked up to him and smiled. “Are we going to board to jet or not? Because my missus wants the entire McDonalds breakfast menu,” Harry laughed, smiling as you hooked a hand underneath his shirt and rubbed at the chub on his hip.
“I t’ink we could all use a McDonalds brekkie,” Niall smiled, watching as Preston hauled the last of the cases and carry-ons to the jet. “Now we can go. You want t’ go and give Preston your bags, mate?” Niall asked Harry, looking to where Preston was now disappearing through the gates of the departure lounge.
“No, no. I’ve got (Y/N)’s sickness pills in my bag and she’ll need to take them before we take-off. Just in case she gets a bit ill and stuff,” Harry smiled. “Now, let’s go get some food. I could use a bacon sandwich. Forget this whole detox thing, I need some grease in me right now,” he murmured, and smiled softly.
“I could use a hash brown. I’ve been craving a hash brown,” you sighed, burying your face into his side as you began walking towards the busy area of the departure lounge at Heathrow. “I’m surprised you guys haven’t been mobbed yet. It’s the busiest I’ve seen it here,” you stated, looking around at all of the waiting passengers who were looking up at the boards every now and then to see if their had been any changes to their flights and gate numbers. “I’m telling you, I don’t miss waiting around for hours on end to check out a gate number for a flight.”
“The one upside to having a jet,” Liam smiled, following close behind as he and Niall walked behind the three of you at the front.
“I feel we should have this on our rider. We should just, get McDonalds delivered to the jet so it’s ready for when we get there. We could eat nuggets and chips and have McFlurries and everything on the jet as we fly to the destination,” Louis grinned, rubbing his hands together as the 5 of you stood in front of the restaurant in the airport. “What’s everyone getting? That bacon sandwich looks delicious, am I right?”
“It looks so good. Maybe I’ll have one of them, H. Oh and a few hash-browns. And an orange juice. And a sausage and egg McMuffin too, please,” you whined, looking up to your husband as he scanned the menus above the counters. “Harry?”
“I heard you, baby. I heard you. I’m just wondering what to get,” he sighed, your hands tugging at his as you pulled him to the front desk. A cashier behind the desk smiled as he realized who the 5 people were, and he adjusted his hat on his head as he looked at you and Harry.
“What can we do for you today?”
“We’ll just have a bacon sandwich, a breakfast wrap, two bottles of orange juice and how many hash browns, baby?” Harry wondered as you blushed and buried your face into his shoulder. “Baby, how many do you want so I can tell Kieran here what we want to eat,” Harry smiled, looking at the name-tag on Kieran’s t-shirt.
“I want 6 hash-browns,” you whispered, your cheeks blushing pink.
“And we’ll have 6 hash-browns, thank you,” Harry smiled, looking up at Kieran. “Pregnancy cravings and everything. She drives me nuts,” he teased, cupping your back in his palm as you kept your head buried into his shoulder.
“Ah, only something the best husband would do, Harry. Midnight cravings n’all that jazz,” Kieran smiled, watching as Harry dug around in his wallet for money to pay for the breakfast. “It’s nine pounds and twenty-five pence.”
* *
A yawn and a groan left your mouth as you rubbed at your popping ears, the altitude different to the ground level you had back at Heathrow. A grumble in your stomach making you crave anything liquid – water, coke, coffee or tea. Anything to settle the dry feeling in your throat and the grumble in your tummy. Sitting up on the jets bedroom bed, you rubbed at your eyes and clambered off of the bed, adjusting the creases near the bottom of the hoodie and pulling at the sleeves to cover your hands. Pushing open the door, you were met with the lounging figures of four men – Liam and Niall both asleep with music playing on different ends of one sofa, with Louis on a separate sofa opposite. And your husband curled up against the wall of the plane, his arms folded across his chest as he slept and snored peacefully in his isolated area.
“How are you feeling now, love?” Louis wondered, as you shuffled out of the jets bedroom doorway and to the seat beside your best friend, your feet kicked up onto his lap as you placed your head on the arm rest of the sofa. “You’ve got some colour in your cheeks. You want me to go wake Harry up?” He wondered, looking at you as you shook your head, your eyes casting over to where Harry was sat, leaning against the wall of the jet with his arms folded across his chest, his eyes closed and his head dipped down to his chest.
“Don’t worry him. This is normal. Morning sickness and everything. He worries over the simplest of things,” you sighed, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes and rubbing them gently. Removing the lingering sleep and sighing heavily. “I love him for it, but, it’s just morning sickness. It’s not exactly anything nasty,” you muttered, groaning lighting as he dug his fingers into your calf muscle. “That feels nice, Louis. Maybe got a bit lower. My feet are honestly killing me,” you sighed, opening your eyes.
“They’re hurting already? Well, we can’t have that.”
“What are you still doing awake, anyway? Why are you the only guy awake,” you wondered, looking over Louis’ sleepy face and smiling softly. “Are you okay? What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, I’m fine. I was finishing up some stuff for that record label I’m starting. I’ve got a meeting set over the next four days, and it’s just to get my label noticed and everything. It’s all exciting stuff, so, I’m a bit worried about wanting to make it the best,” he sighed, looking at his closed laptop set on the sofa beside his thigh. “You think it’ll be a good label?”
You knew he was worried. Louis was never immensely worried about anything in particular and he usually took things as they came to him, however, you’d noticed a change in his behaviour as he’d begun to realise just how serious this whole thing of owning a label and becoming a recording artist was. He wanted to impress people, and you knew he would.
“With you running it? Definitely. You’re already so good at song writing and singing as well, so, a record label will be so good for you,” you grinned, “and besides, the girl band you’ve signed are bloody fantastic. You’re doing great so far, and I couldn’t be any prouder,” you smiled, kicking your legs from his and setting them on the ground as you sat beside him.
“I’m proud of you too,” he muttered, squeezing your hand. “You got married, you’re becoming a mother, you’re having a life. And you’re kicking pregnancy’s arse. You’re doing so well and I know how stressful these pregnancies are,” he smiled as you rested your head on his shoulder, “especially first pregnancies.”
“I’ve got a bloody good husband looking after me, Louis. He’s been fantastic. I expected him to get irritated with me and my constant peeing or my constant want for cravings, or my kicking because I can’t get comfortable. He’s been so good to me, Louis,” you whispered, looking over to Harry as he grumbled in his sleep and licked at his lips. “He’s so excited to be a dad and it scares me that I’m going to lose the baby or something will happen and he’ll never forgive me for anything and I just, I just don’t know how to thank him for sticking around and helping me,” you giggled softly, “like, you should see what he does around the house. He’s just amazing. The perfect house-husband. Me and baby Styles are so lucky to have someone so caring and so sweet and so in love with us. He’s just been so great, helping me plan the nursery and we’ve been talking about the baby and he’s so dedicated to the whole though of us having a baby. Like, how did I bag such a wonderful husband?”
“You were always destined to be together,” Louis reasoned. “Even back when you first met. He never shut up about the girl who dropped her coffee over his suede boots. And when you went on your first date, oh my god, he was the happiest guy we’d ever seen. He’s loved you since the moment he laid eyes on you. It’s honestly expectant you ended up together,” he laughed, and looked over to Niall who was shuffling in his seat.
“If you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m going to come over there and rip your tongue out,” he hissed tiredly, pulling up his hood and making eye contact with Louis; a smirk on the Yorkshire boys lips as Niall gave him the middle finger. “Piss off, Tomlinson. Let us have some sleep, man.”
“Sorry, Niall. We’ll keep it down,” you apologised.
“It’s alright, Styles. Just, whisper. Don’t laugh so loudly,” he admitted, adjusting the hood on his head and covering his face. “I’m serious about pulling your tongue out, Tomlinson.”
“Alright, alright,” he laughed, turning his attention back to you. “Harry’s been so in love with babies ever since he’d seen Lux as a newborn. He was so smitten with her that Lou was so intrigued to know how their relationship would blossom. They’re inseparable right now and he’ll be the same with your own.”
When Lux was born, you and Harry hadn’t a clue the other existed which meant you were present for when he was smitten over the tiny baby of which Lou would insist he visited. Once she was passed into his arms, he never let her go and he never set her down and he would whine when she would because it meant she needed feeding and he would need to release her from his hold so she could be content and happy again. It gave him an excuse to pop round and see Lou and Tom, grinning with joy at the sight of the happy parents who were just so into the whole parenting thing. And it made his tummy warm and full of want for what they had – he wanted a baby. He wanted someone to raise a child with. And watching Lou and Tom handle their precious bundle with care, he felt that settling down with someone was all he wanted in life.
Louis’ eyes cast to Harry who was shuffling around and rubbing at his eyes, signaling he was waking from his 4-hour snooze. “Looks like he’s waking up. Go have a snuggle with him. I’m alright over here,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“Love you, Tommo.”
“I love you too, Styles,” he smirked, kicking your bum gently as you stood up and made your way over to Harry, who was awake and smiling as you came into his view.
* *
* 2 DAYS LATER *
The air was cold around your legs, goosebumps rising occasionally on your skin when a gust of wind found its way between the huddle you and the four boys were standing in. With whips of coats or dresses on other celebrity females tickling at the backs of your knees as they bumbled past in a hurry to get inside and be warm. Harry had a hand pressed to the curve of your back, his fingers splayed out with the tips touching at the area of skin showing from your dressbetween your shoulder blades, eyes on the look out for when it was best for the four of them to make their way down the carpet to the end where he would then greet you with a warming hug and help you inside.
“It’s been too long since we’ve been together as a band. I miss you lads,” Nialllaughed as the five of you stood at the edge of the red carpet for the American Music Awards. Your eyes darting from celebrity to celebrity as they walked along the carpet and made their way to the interviewers and media outlets for their interviews. “Who’s ready for some more questions about privacy and the band?”
“Shut up, dick’ead. Let’s just get out there,” Harry smiled, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist as you started your way to the beginning of the carpet. “Are you okay coming with me? Or do you want to go and wait at the other end? In fact, there are fans that end. I don’t want them mobbing you,” Harry panicked, looking at the busy carpet in front of him. The fear of you being knocked and harassed and hurt in the fret of him coming closer and closer with people wanting more and more to do with him was constantly running through his body and his mind and he felt, that because there was no bodyguard brought along with them, that he would need to protect you from harm during the hectic moments. “Do you want to go and wait inside?”
“No, no. I’m okay. I’ll go stand at the other end. I think I can see Lou and Lux with some stylists,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek and letting a lipstick stain linger on his cheek before wiping it away with the pad of your thumb. “I’ll see you at the other end, I promise. Kick their asses and don’t give too much away about the baby. If they ask, just be polite and answer them, and don’t talk about it if you don’t want too and feel they’re getting too personal,” you warned, cupping his face in your hands. “I love you, mister.”
“I love you too, missus. Stay safe and I’ll see you and baby Styles at the other end,” he whispered, running his palm across the curve of your visible bump and pressed his lips to your ear. And with that, you left the small huddle and dodged your way behind the interviewers and the excitable fans who were there to catch a glimpse of the singers and bands that they enjoyed listening too.
As Harry looked around the carpet, his vision was blurred and surrounded with flashing cameras and protruding microphones being thrusted into his face, with the demand he answers their questions for exclusive magazine content that would lead to stories and media coverage of something that he probably hadn’t meant to come out with or say in a specific tone.
“Harry, boys! Over here,” he could hear interviewers calling his name, and deep down he knew exactly what they were after. It was expected that they wanted to ask more about the baby and the fact he was officially well underway with married life and they wanted to dish the dirt in their articles. “Harry! Harry, here. Let’s have a chat,” he heard, his head turning towards a female voice and smiling as he followed the other boys towards an interviewer from which he could only guess to be from Sugarscape, a purple microphone being held in the interviewer’s hand. “Hi, boys. It’s a pleasure to be interviewing you. How are you all? It’s been a while since we’ve seen and heard from you boys.”
“Thank you for the opportunity,” Liam smiled, as the interviewer grinned. “We’re really good. It’s been good to see the other boys and catch up with life and everything. How are you? Are you well?”
“I’m very good, thank you. It’s always exciting coming to see you boys,” she smiled, as Louis laughed softly. “How has everything been with you guys? The hiatus seems to be treating you all very well and you look healthy and rested. How have you been coping? Is there withdrawals happening from being away from one another for so long?”
“It’s always good to have some time apart from the boys because we’re constantly on the road with one another, spending nearly every night together on stage and stuff, so it’s good to be away from one another,” Harry started, smiling softly as he watched your head bob past in the crowd, “I mean, there are times when I miss seeing them and having one of them knock on my door in the early hours of the morning to have a roll of toilet paper or a new towel or a pillow,” he laughed.
“We don’t do that often. It usually happens when your missus is on tour and you do it to us because you want more comfort,” Louis laughs out loud, the interviewer laughing as well. “It’s typical for them to knock on our doors and ask for spare pillows or blankets because they like being bundled up in the heat of the bed covers,” Louis admits, Harry’s cheeks flushing pink.
“So, your wife and you are very cuddly when it comes to her coming to visit?” She asks directly at Harry, as he nods quickly, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers.
“She always tries to come out and see us as often as possible. We get an extra pair of hands backstage and she keeps me in check and everything. She always makes sure I look properly styled and she chooses my outfits most nights of the tour, and, yeah, she’s pretty great when she comes out,” Harry smiled.
“Answer the question, Styles!” Niall teased, kicking his foot out to his knee.
“We’re very cuddly when she comes to visit, yes,” he blushes and gave her a blushing smile, coos and teasing sounds coming from the boys and the fans standing around the interviewer. “Not sexually or anything. Especially at the moment, like, it’s all cuddles and snuggles and everything.”
“That’s so fuckin’ sappy. It makes me sick,” Louis teases, running his hands through his hair and grinning widely.
“You say at the moment. I presume that means something about your pregnancy? Congratulations, by the way. Your new Instagram photo is just beautiful. 17 weeks pregnant. That’s amazing. How is everything going?”
Harry grinned softly and felt his cheeks begin to ache.
“The pregnancy yes. She’s not really in a sexual mood when it comes to her being pregnant so, we’ve made sure to get in plenty of cuddles and everything before she gets too big to keep cuddled to my side,” Harry grinned, toying with his wedding ring on his finger absentmindedly. “Like, I don’t mind, obviously. Because her being comfortable means the utmost world to me and I always make sure she’s comfortable in bed or when we’re out and about. It’s been going really well, yeah. A few nasty morning sickness spells and everything, but, that’s normal. We have our next scan when we get back to the UK and we can finally know the gender of what we’re having.”
“You’re one excited husband, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. I’m finally settling down with the love of my life, with a baby on the way and we couldn’t be any happier. We’ve been wanting to have a family for a long while now and we’re both in our twenties and we figured it was the best time for us to have a family. When we’re both not as busy with work and we have time to look after one another and make sure we’re all okay with everything,” Harry added, “and with the hiatus, it gives me time to get my DIY hands on and build up the furniture for the nursery and all that,” he smiled.
“Fuck off. You can’t build for shit,” Liam laughed, pushing Harry’s shoulder. “I’ve seen that shelf you put up in your living room. There’s a reason why there’s nothing on it,” Liam stated, directing his attention to the interviewer who had an amused smile on her lips. “I’m scared that baby Styles is going to end up on the floor on night in a heap of a broken cot,” he smirked, earing himself a roll of the eyes from Harry.
“Let’s move on, shall we?” Niall laughed.
“I’ve just got one more question. Will you boys be back after this hiatus?” The interviewer asked, a curious smile on her lips.
“We will be back. Of course we’ll be back. We’ll have a new album out and we’ll be announcing a tour sooner rather than later. We promise. It will be after Harry’s paternity leave is over, obviously, and we won’t want to take him from his baby and his wife, so it’ll be scheduled around that,” Liam chortled, his head nodding as he spoke. “We will definitely be back. Of course we will. We love it too much to just stop completely.”
“Well, thank you so much for talking with me. I’ll let you go. Have fun presenting tonight, boys. And give my congratulations to your wife, Harry,” the interviewer smiles, dropping her microphone as she hugs the boys individually.
* *
“Auntie (Y/N)! Where’s Uncle Harry?” Lux grinned as she ran up to you and wrapped her arms around your legs, her forehead resting against your thighs. “You look pretty today. Your dress is really pretty, (Y/N).”
“Thank you, lovely. You look very pretty yourself. Did you mummy do your make-up, hm? You look so much like her tonight,” you cooed, lifting her up and setting her on your hip as a weary Lou came into your sight. “She’s fine, Lou. I promise. Light as a feather,” you grinned, swaying your hips from side to side as Lux giggled in your arms.
“Are you sure?” Lou asked, cupping your elbows in her palms as she ran her thumbs up and down your skin. “Your back isn’t aching or anything, no?”
“No, no. Honestly. She’s as light as a feather,” you smiled, pressing your lips to Lux’s cheek. “How has my little lady been? I’ve missed you. Uncle Harry has missed you too. We must have you round soon. Give your mummy some time off,” you smirked, as Lou laughed.
“She’s been driving me nuts about coming out here. She’s been so excited to see Harry and the boys again, bless her,” Lou admitted, watching as Lux set her head on your shoulder and looked over at the celebrities who wandered through the crowds. “How are you anyway? You look incredible for 17 weeks,” she smiled, running her hand down your bump.
“I feel great. It feels good knowing I’m growing a human life inside of me,” you laughed, as Lux’s head popped up. “What’s up, lovely?”
“I see Harry! I see Uncle Harry, (Y/N),” she squealed, her legs kicking excitedly as Lou tried to keep them at bay.
“Lux, sweetheart, stop. You need to be careful of Auntie (Y/N)’s tummy now,” Lou tried to explain, her voice only falling on deaf ears as Lux continued to squeal out happily, rolling her head back as Lou sighed. “Lux, please. Let’s get you down and we can go see Uncle Harry in a bit,” she murmured, lifting Lux from your arms and holding her in her own, setting her up on her hip as she kept her eyes towards Harry.
Behind you, you could here giggles and coos and confirmation that people were realizing that Harry’s wife was standing just mere centimeters away from them; with the possible scream when someone would explain how Harry would want to be close to you to make sure you were okay, leading to him getting more closer to them and being in hugging distance of the man.
“Hi, girls. How are you feeling? Are you okay?” You smiled, shuffling across the gravel and causing the stones to crunch underneath your shoes. “You look cold. Come here. Come give me a hug. You look cold,” you cooed, holding your arms open and engulfing them into a warm hug, their arms wrapping around you as they cried out happily into your ears. Their chins resting on your shoulders as you gave their backs a rub with your palms.
“Oh my god. Thank you, hi. Hi,” one of them grinned, pulling away from your hold as she looked up at you. “We’re really well, thank you. Just really excited for the boys get this end of the carpet. How are you? You look amazing,” she added, releasing her arms from around you and dropping them to her sides.
“I’m well, thank you. A little cold and a bit achy but eager to get inside with the boys. I’m very good though, yeah. It feels great to be back here with Harry,” you grinned, looking between the two girls as they giggled lightly and cooed at the mention of Harry. “He should be back soon. I can see his mop over there,” you grinned, laughing as the group behind them cooed and looked towards where you were pointing.
“He’s wearing a floral suit! Oh my god, you had something to do with this, didn’t you, (Y/N)? It matches with the colours of your dress, And knowing Harry, he’d want to be colour coordinated,” another mumbled out happily, her phone clasped in her hand as she watched Louis turn on his heel and follow Liam closer to where you were standing.
“How is the baby, (Y/N)? It’s still crazy to think Harry’s a father,” one smiled, shuffling between a group who were intrigued to see where Harry and the boys were coming too next. An eruption of screams and shouting sounded from the group you were standing beside, your head turning to the girl who had started the conversation with you. A smile on her lips as she reached into her pocket for her phone.
“The baby is wonderful, thank you for asking. We get to find out the gender at the next scan so we’re all pretty excited for that. Harry’s more excited for the baby shopping and looking at the clothes for them,” you smiled, seeing your husband’s face appear before the group of fans. “Why don’t you go over and have a photo with him? He’s friendly, I promise. Not as scary as you think. I have to sleep next to him remember,” you laughed, earning a deep chuckle from Harry who was standing within earshot.
“You’re a monster when you wake up in the mornings,” Harry retorted, his lips in a smile as he snapped a selfie with a fan standing at the barrier. “Thank you for coming here. Are you guys coming to the bit inside?” He asked, earning himself a few nods from the group crowding him and the boys. “Sorry, sorry. Can I just get to my missus please? We should probably head inside now. Thank you for waiting for us.”
“Congratulations, Harry!”
“Thank you. You’re all so supportive of this and we couldn’t be any happier. Thank you,” he smiled, reaching an arm around your waist and setting his palm flat against the bump showing beneath your dress. “You feeling okay? Not too stressful or anything?”
“No, no. Of course not. They were fine, Harry. I promise. They were making sure I was okay and everything. I gave a few hugs out and everything. They were great,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his body. “How were the interviews?”
“Hmm. They were good. Not much about the baby and all, which was quite relieving. I just can’t wait to present this award, and get home with you. My feet are killing me in this boots,” he whined, looking down at the black boots that were glistening under the light and tight on his feet. “I swear to god; Saint Laurent boots are the worst when they’re new.”
Yet he looked so good in them, no matter the whining he gave when he tried to break them in.
“Stop whining and get inside, present that award and kick ass, you big baby.”

Notes