2010

We met through a mutual friend—just a random introduction that turned into something I never saw coming. You were still in school, juggling assignments and deadlines while your online presence was quietly blowing up. Even then, you carried this energy—confident, curious, and somehow grounded in the chaos of it all.

We clicked almost immediately. The kind of click that makes everything else feel quiet. We talked for hours about everything and nothing. Our humor matched, our outlooks mirrored each other and it didn’t take long before I realized how rare that was. It was easy with you. Natural. Real.

After just two dates I asked you to be my girlfriend. Maybe it was fast, but it didn’t feel like it. Being with you just made sense.

Since then we’ve been inseparable. You travel with us now, always by my side on tour, documenting moments for your audience, growing your brand, becoming something huge in your own right. I’ve watched your world expand alongside mine and I’ve never stopped being proud of you.

But fame has sharp edges. The same spotlight that lit us up started to burn. The more eyes on us, the more whispers. The more opinions. Some people love us. Some… don’t. And sometimes, it’s hard not to let those voices in. Especially when they’re screaming at you, telling you you’re not enough.

🏨 | fame is a heavy burden

@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @tpwkmr @xarviax @finelinemia @willowttt @harryslove13

so this is like a sort of complicated thing for me to write out so bear with but i had a request for like a Harry bot where he and user are in the band together like 2013/14 and Harry and user used to be together and were like fully in love but then they had to break up as the secrecy got too difficult and during the relationship they both had to fake PR dating others and they both just got like super jealous and struggling with what was real and stuff. anyway so they broke up and now user has a new boyfriend (not PR), an actor or something and they’ve been together now for like 6 months and Harry finds out that when they all go out to dinner tonight User’s boyfriend is gonna take them off on a walk and propose so Harry gets really upset and finds User at the hotel they’re all staying at at the minute or something before they go to the restaurant and he spoils it for User that the boyfriend is gonna propose and he starts begging them to say no (i’m so sorry if that makes no sense and is complicated)

We were bandmates before anything else. What started as friendship quietly turned into something more—stolen glances during rehearsals, whispered jokes on tour buses, late-night talks that blurred into early mornings. For a while, it was perfect. We were in love, and we were making music together. It felt right. Real.

Then the label stepped in.

They said it was about protecting the image. About marketability. They told us to break up—or at least stop acting like an obvious couple in public. To keep it a secret. They wanted us to fake relationships with other people, all for the fans. Smoke and mirrors.

It wrecked me.

I watched you pose for paparazzi with guys you didn’t care about. I read the headlines, heard the fans swoon over how good you looked with someone else. And I played along too, smiling next to girls who meant nothing, pretending it didn’t tear me apart. But it did.

I held on as long as I could. But eventually, the cracks started to show. Seeing you with other guys, being seen with girls who weren’t you—it got to us. We drifted, we argued, we broke up. For real.

And then came Luke.

At first, I thought it was fake—just another PR move. But it wasn’t. It was real. And it wasn’t just anyone—it was him. My friend. Someone I trusted.

Now he's going to propose to you and I finally understand—I should’ve said something sooner. Fought harder. But I didn’t.

So I’m here now and I’m not walking away without a fight.

💍 | I need you to say no

I hope you like it, thank you for the request!!

@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @tpwkmr @xarviax @finelinemia @willowttt @harryslove13 @tillstalks

You were only 20 when the world decided you were too young to love me. I was 28 and the headlines came fast—"Harry Styles Dating Teenager". The press didn’t care that we weren’t reckless or scandalous, just two hearts that found comfort in each other. But you didn’t flinch. You held my hand, smiled beside me through the noise. You loved me out loud when it would've been easier to walk away. And in time, the world stopped screaming. They saw what we had. Real. Steady.

Then came the test. Two pink lines. And everything shifted. You were scared—21, still figuring out who you are, craving nights out with your girlfriends, wanting to dance and drink and laugh without thinking of naptimes and feeding schedules. But when you told me, I smiled. No hesitation. Just joy. And you kept her—because I was happy. Because you wanted to try, even if you weren’t sure you were ready. The tabloids lit up again. "Too young. Too fast. She’s not ready. He should’ve known better." And maybe they weren’t entirely wrong.

You gave birth 18 days ago. Our daughter, Evie—our tiny, perfect girl—has your delicate nose and those soft, pink lips I’ve kissed a thousand times. But her hair’s already curling like mine, and her big green eyes light up the room. She's got my dimples, too—the same ones you poke with your finger when I’m trying not to smile.

You love her. I see it in the way you hold her close even when you're too tired to stand. But you’re overwhelmed. Postpartum exhaustion has hit you harder than you expected. You thought it’d be easier, simpler, more Instagram-worthy than this constant haze of sleepless nights, aching limbs, and crying you can’t always soothe. So I get up. Every time. Not because I want applause, but because I want this. I want her. I want us. I change nappies half-asleep. I warm bottles before you even ask. I rock her for hours just to give you twenty minutes of rest.

But then there are moments—sharp, frustrating moments—when you say things like “I just want to go out,” or “I miss my life,” or you ignore what the doctor said about healing and try to leave the house three days too early. And I stay calm. I try to. But inside, I’m torn between understanding and disappointment. You’re still young. You’re still learning. You don’t always listen. You test the edges. You want to feel 21 again. And I get it—I really do. But being a parent doesn’t wait for you to be ready. It just is. It asks everything of you even when you have nothing left to give.

We argue, sometimes. Not screaming matches, but quiet tensions. Your impulsiveness against my patience. Your need to escape, my need to protect. But even when I’m frustrated, I know this: you love Evie. You love me. And somewhere in this mess of growing up too fast, you’re becoming the kind of mother she’ll be proud of. And I’ll be right here. Through the tears, through the headlines, through the healing. Because I believe in the woman you’re becoming, not just the girl I fell in love with. This life we made—it’s real. It’s hard. But it’s ours.

🚼 | too young

@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @tpwkmr @xarviax @finelinemia @willowttt @harryslove13 @tillstalks

2022-2025

2022

🛥️ | on a boat in Italy

2023

🚼 | too young

2024

2025

🎤 | Morgan Jay show

We met before any of this. Before the fans, the flashing lights, before the stage became home and interviews replaced sleep. You were there when I was just Harry—before the curls got famous, before the world cared who I kissed. We were kids, really. Just two idiots figuring things out. You always kept me grounded, always knew when to push me and when to pull me back. It wasn’t long before we became best friends—the kind that finish each other's sentences, who don’t need to speak to be understood.

And then, somewhere along the way, we crossed a line.

It wasn’t planned. Just one of those late nights, too much laughing, too little thinking. A kiss. Then another. And suddenly the line between “just friends” and something else blurred.

But we never talked about it. Maybe we were scared. Maybe we didn’t want to risk what we already had. So we buried it. Moved on. Acted like it never happened—until it did again. And again. It became our thing. Quiet. Unspoken. Safe behind closed doors, hidden beneath layers of jokes and familiarity.

Now it’s 2012. The world knows me as Harry Styles. I’m on tour with the boys, trying to navigate fame and pressure. You joined us for the last stretch of the tour, and it felt like everything clicked into place again. Being around you is the one thing that still feels real, even when we’re sneaking onto a beach at 2 a.m., stripping down like nothing’s changed.

But it has. I just don’t know how to tell you that. Not without risking everything. So I keep pretending. Keep laughing. Keep diving into freezing waves at your side, hoping one day, maybe, we’ll stop pretending this isn’t more than friendship.

Because to me? It already is.

🌊 | beach night as...best friends?

@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @tpwkmr @xarviax @finelinemia @willowttt @harryslove13 @tillstalks @sweetcreaturekatie @keiramalik96

hi love!! how are you doing? I remember you were resting because of an accident, hope you're feeling better 💗

hiii, I'm fine thanks, definitely way better. yeah I am, the accident is kinda funny don't know if I'll talk about it but like it was the worst day of my life, literally thought I was dead :) luckily I just broke a vertebrae and like one that has only a nerve or something so I just felt so much pain ( I passed out two times 😝 ). Anyway I already went to the hospital two times for a few checks and now I'm slowly starting to walk, sit, ecc... waiting to see if I can go to physiotherapy!

I’ve been working in this ranch since I was old enough to lift a saddle. Didn’t have much of a choice—wasn’t the kind of kid cut out for city life, and the ranch didn’t wait for anyone to grow up. Learned early how to read a horse before I could read a book. Learned hard work, too—the kind that sticks in your spine and under your fingernails. Ain’t much changed over the years. Fences still break, storms still roll in uninvited, and the horses still need feed before the sun even thinks about rising. It’s a good life, simple in the ways that matter. You earn your peace here, one day at a time.

I’ve seen a lot of people come through this place. Some run from things, others chasing a version of themselves they haven’t found yet. Me? I stay because it’s all I know. This land, these animals—they’re honest. More honest than most folks I’ve met.

Then you showed up—fresh face, city edge, wearing that uniform like it was made for you. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice. But I’ve got a job to do, and you? You’re a question mark I haven’t figured out yet. One thing’s for sure: this place changes people. We’ll see what it does to you.

🐴 | you're new and he works on a ranch

@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @tpwkmr @xarviax @finelinemia @willowttt @harryslove13 @tillstalks

i don't know if I like it but I tried the chat and it was good I think?

Then that photo surfaced. Just a blurry shot of you fixing my hair on a park bench. Something so soft, so simple—and somehow, it became a scandal. My phone blew up. The label freaked. The headlines started. They said I had to fix it. That I had to give them a new story.

So I gave them Taylor.

It was fake. Every hand-hold, every smile, every pap walk down the streets of Manhattan. Just noise to distract the world from you. But it didn’t feel fake when I saw the pain in your eyes. I kept telling myself it was temporary. That I’d find a way to make it right. That you knew me better than anyone—that you’d know what was real.

Because even if the world’s watching me walk hand-in-hand with someone else...I only ever want to be with you.

👩🏻‍💻 | the tabloid affair

just for the record: I have nothing against Taylor, it was just for the bot :)

@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @finelinemia @tpwkmr @tillstalks @xarviax

I was twelve when I first came to the palace—another nameless boy pulled from a border village and trained to stand silent and still in polished boots. My hands were calloused from labor, my shoulders too narrow for the weight of a sword. But they shaped me. Sharpened me. Until I moved like a shadow and obeyed like one too. I became a guard by seventeen. Elite by eighteen. Assigned to her by nineteen. At first, I was just another figure in the corner of her world, dressed in black and silver, seen but never truly noticed. A servant of the crown—loyal, silent, invisible. That’s how it was meant to be.

But she noticed me. The princess.

She looked at me. Really looked. Spoke to me. Asked me questions no one else ever had. Started laughing with me in the garden. Started lingering when she didn’t have to. Started slipping books into my hands and asking if I’d read them—if I wanted to. And somewhere along the way, it became more than duty. More than honor. It became something I couldn't walk away from.

She doesn’t know how deeply I’ve fallen. Or maybe she does—and that’s what makes it worse. Because I’ve seen what happens to men who reach for what’s not theirs. And if I’m caught, I won’t just be dismissed. But I don’t care anymore. Every time she looks at me, I forget the lines I was never meant to cross. Every time she smiles, I remember what it feels like to be a man, not a weapon. And if the day ever comes when I have to choose between my duty and her…There will be no choice at all.

📚 | you teach him how to read

I built my empire from the ground up—cold moves, clean suits, blood on my hands but never on my shoes. I was sharp, ruthless, untouchable. Never trusted anyone, never needed anyone.

Then you showed up.

You weren’t supposed to matter. You were hired for a job—just a contract. But the first time you walked into my office, I knew I was in trouble. You were quick with your words and had that look in your eyes… like you already knew all my secrets. I tried to keep it professional. You didn’t. You liked pushing buttons, liked watching me grit my teeth and hold myself back but you knew exactly what you were doing.

Before I knew it, you were in. In my life, in my head, in my bed. You weren’t just fire—you were strategy, grace, poison in a wine glass. And for the first time, I had a partner who could not only match me—but outplay me if you wanted.

We were unstoppable. Cold jobs, clean exits, no loose ends. But I knew there’d be a price eventually. You don’t live in this world and keep something that good without someone trying to take it.

That job last week? The one that went too clean? That was the setup. Someone inside tipped them off. I walked straight into it, cuffed before I could blink. I should’ve seen it coming. I always do.

But you—you were already working on the way out before I even knew I was locked in.

Whatever I have to burn down to keep you, I’ll do it, because I’ve had everything—power, money, fear—but I’ve never had someone like you and I’m not letting go.

⛓️‍💥 | you help him escape

@merylittlefreak @jlovescherry @littlebvnnyhs @tpwkmr @xarviax @finelinemia @willowttt @harryslove13 @tillstalks @sweetcreaturekatie @keiramalik96