#HendallReunited
prompt: request was to write broad but to write something angsty
Word count: 5.2k
Warnings: language, sexual content, angst
Harry always had issues with saying ‘no’ to people. He never quite grew out of his manners even when he should have.
He said ‘yes’ to way too many things- signing autographs for rude fans and paparazzi, and agreed to way too many things Jeff suggested.
Saying yes to everything didn’t make his life any easier is the thing. Especially when it came to his wife. She was usually left with the aftermath of him being too nice.
The media painted Y/N in a negative light occasionally and so did the fans because she would stand up for Harry and not let him say ‘yes’ to every single request.
She would tell disrespectful fans he’s not signing autographs because of the way they were screaming and interrupting his work.
Harry wished he could do it himself - admired that his wife didn’t give a fuck what people thought about her. He cared entirely too much what the world would think.
The couple didn’t fight about much - no, not really. Normal couple stuff for the most part. But this was the exception, this is where Y/N found most of their turmoil.
Every few months it would rear it’s ugly head and they’d find themselves in the same position over and over again.
This time - it was really fucking bad.
The couple had been staying in their Los Angeles home for the last few months whilst the singer finalized his album and began promotion.
It was boring meeting among boring lunch outings to get all their ducks in a row. Jeff - his manager the main orchestrator.
He was a great manager and a good friend, but it was also business too which Harry didn’t always comprehend.
At the end of the day, Harry was making Jeff millions upon millions of dollars. But Harry didn’t think that way.
**
Harry was in a stuffy conference room at the The Late Late Show to work on the script and ideas for the show. Promo had been nonstop.
He was a bit tired as it was nearly just hitting eight in the morning and he had been up late with you - having some late night loving in the hot tub.
“As for guest - Kendall Jenner,” James Corden’s producer states. All the men agree but Harry is taken aback.
“Why...why would we have my ex-girlfriend as one of my guests?” Harry interrupts, confusion knitting his brows.
Kendall and him didn’t end on a bad note - not at all. They hooked up a few times after their ‘break-up’ but once he’d met Y/N she was understanding when he cut it off.
Y/N wasn’t necessarily jealous of the model, but didn’t love when they’d run into each other at events. She was still overtly flirty with Harry without much shame.
Harry also didn’t have an desire to see her or host her as a guest on the show. She was nice but he wasn’t interested in being friends with her. They didn’t have much in common and he was head over heels for his wife.
“The media will eat it up, dude. Harry Styles and Kendall Jenner reunited on a show after four years?” Jeff smiles, the others nodding in amicable agreement.
This is one of this times where Harry needs to say “no,” that it’s disrespectful to his significant other to use an old flame for promo for his album.
He already knows ‘hendall’ will be trending within minutes and he can’t imagine how that would make his parter feel.
“I just...this doesn’t seem like a good idea?” Harry begins hesitantly, making it sound more like a question than a statement.
“Why not?” Eric, one of the writers asks.
“Y’know, I’m married. I don’t think m’missus would appreciate if I did somethin’ like that just for promotion,” he states, scratching at his jaw uncomfortably.
“Look Styles, we’re not asking you to fuck the girl. It just a interview, c’mon,” The executive producer gruffs - wanting those guaranteed views.
Harry swallows - looking at his manager and then at everyone else at the table looking at him for an affirmative answer.
“Uh-sure,” Harry fumbles, feeling anxiety rise into his throat. Fuck, he’s such a god damn pushover.
He’s trying to find his voice to go back on his agreement but the meeting wrapping up and people are leaving with final handshakes.
**
Harry doesn’t know how to tell Y/N what is going on. He’d been keeping in stored in the back of his mind, not ready to have a blowout.
He never found the perfect time to bring it up and now it was too late. It was the morning of the show and he was due to be at the rehearsals this afternoon.
Harry had finally decided he was going to tell her this morning over coffee but forgot that she had a girl’s day planned with a few friends.
She was already out to breakfast with them when he woke up. His phone had one text from you.
Hi baby. I’m out with the girls. See you at the show tonight. I’ll meet you there around six! Love you!
He was fucked royally and he had no one to blame but himself. Maybe it’d be okay, maybe she’d roll her eyes and tell him he’s an idiot.
Realistically he knew that was just a sweet dream at this point.
—
Harry was fidgety and kept mucking up his lines during rehearsal as it got closer to the showtime and his missus arriving.
Kendall had arrived for hair and makeup without seeing her ex-boyfriend yet. He dreaded seeing the model.
Kendall and Y/N had met a few times at different events. It was always cordial. Kendall was always casual - their relationship was never more than a couple fun dates and sex.
They were kind to each other when they met but he couldn’t deny how much harder his partner kissed him on the mouth afterwards.
Before he know it, his wife is hugging him from behind as he talks to a producer about which cameras to look at.
Y/N noticed the way he tensed up at first and thought about how unusual that was for him. Normally, he’d lean back into her with his full weight causing them both to stumble and laugh.
He slowly, cautiously turns around and his face relaxes a little bit but not completely. “Hi baby,” he hums, leaning in for a kiss.
“You look so handsome,” she replies, admiring his brown pinstriped suit and her pearl necklace that he’d snagged awhile back. She thought it looked better on him anyways.
“You look even better, s’fuckin’ pretty, love,” he gushes, coming back in for another kiss - a little too sensual for the setting.
She was donned in a cropped white shirt, showing of the smooth expanse of her tummy. An oversized blazer of Harry’s, ripped jeans, and heels.
Harry thought fleetingly he couldn’t wait to fuck her after the show. Then remembered that mostly wouldn’t happen.
Reggie, the musical lead, slides up to you two. He smiles wide at you, saying, “Can’t believe you agreed to the guest this evening.”
Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, Harry’s raise nearly to his forehead, but when she opens her mouth to ask him to explain they’re interrupted.
“Harry!” The leggy model trots over to the little group. Dressed in an interesting one-piece suit that has sewn in heels. She looked beautiful as ever, of course she was a model.
Both of them turn towards the oblivious girl, “Kendall,” Harry replies with a twinge of anxiety - eyes repeatedly looking at his significant other’s profile as multiple emotions flash.
“Hiya, you’re Y/N right?” Kendall smiles kindly, offering her manicured hand.
She accepts, “Yeah, uh-good to see you again.”
Harry knew she had connected the dots quickly in her head. The hurt, confusion, had hit her eyes before narrowing into full-blown rage at her partner.
“I promise I’ll go easy on him,” Kendall jokes before pinching at Harry’s cheek teasingly. The model was a natural flirt with everyone she got along with.
“Oh, sure,” she replies lamely, attempting to not let her feelings burst out in that moment with her husband . She knew it wasn’t Kendall’s fault.
“I’m going to go grab a bite to eat. I’m probably gonna puke when we do ‘spill or fill’. See you guys soon,” the model waves before trailing off with her assistant.
“Did you kn- of course you knew she was your guest,” Y/N seethes, turning to fully face the guilt-stricken-singer.
He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “I did.”
“How long have you known for?” She demands to know, keeping her voice at an angry whisper to not draw attention.
Harry wasn’t going to lie to his love, “About two weeks.”
Y/N replies with a laugh, “let me guess, you let Jeffrey talk you into this bullshit, again.”
His silence is all she needs to know it’s true.
“For Christ’s sake, of course,” She huffs bitterly, “what’s even worse is you didn’t fucking tell me. What the fuck?”
Harry bites his lip, not able to rasp out anything but a pathetic, “m’sorry, love.”
He wasn’t usually good at taking responsibility during a fight. He was stubborn at best but he couldn’t deny his way out of this.
“You will be, you-“
They were cut off by the staff, the audience was trailing in and Harry needed to get mic’d up now.
“This conversation isn’t over,” she points her finger at his chest before storming off to the side of the stage where she’d watch from.
Fucking shit.
**
Harry was a performer. It’s easy for him to push things to the back of his mind so he can entertain a enamored audience.
But tonight, he was struggling. Eyes flicking over to the teleprompter more than usual, his demeanor not as vivid and carefree.
Not when his wife was glaring daggers at him from stage right. Her hand constantly at her mouth, biting at her nails - a nervous tick of hers.
“Next up, the one, the only, the beautiful model and one of my good friends, Kendall Jenner!” Harry introduces when she walks out and waves at the crowd.
They hug and when they pull apart they step over to where they were playing the game. Either answer the question or eat a nasty food picked out by the other.
They weren’t allowed to see each other’s questions before the game started- both going on blind which put Harry more on edge.
“Okay, Kendall. Rank the members of One Direction on most to least attractive or you will be eating...” Harry spins the table, “Cow tongue.”
She flinched at the disgusting plate, smirking up at Harry before considering her course of action, “I think I can answer this one.”
He wasn’t looking forward to her answer. Neither was Y/N by the way she nearly shaking her foot off her leg.
“Okay, I got this. You - the most attractive, then uh- Zayn....Louis...Niall...Liam,” she laughs, “but all of you are hot!”
Harry fake laughs and acts like he’s impressed by her answer as the crowd roars and cheers.
When Kendall picks up her notecard - she laughs in surprise at the question before looking at him with bright eyes.
“Okay, um, bull penis!” She giggles before starting the question, “I’m dying to know this answer. So...your first album HS1 was released four years ago, correct?”
He nods, apprehensive.
“Which songs were about me? Especially was only angel?” She laughs at Harry’s pale expression before without another thought he shovels the rancid food into his mouth.
Harry looks off to the side to see that his missus is no longer sitting there. Just Jeff - who gives him a thumbs up.
**
The first thing he did when the show ended and the lights dimmed was bolt off to Jeff - ignoring Kendall who was about to say something to him.
“Where’d Y/N go?”
He thought she might have went out to get a breathe of fresh air but for the next hour and a half he hasn’t seen her once.
“She said she wasn’t feeling very good. She told me to tell you she’d meet you at home,” Jeff shrugs unbothered.
“Damnit!” Harry curses loudly, ripping out of the microphone and the little pack in his back waistband.
“Harry,” Jeff scolds at his unprofessionalism that was abnormal for him.
“No! Don’t fucking ever ask me to do shit like this again. You fucking knew what questions were on those notecards and you said it wasn’t anything about our previous relationship.”
“Harry-“
“Don’t fucking talk to me. You’re a real shit manager sometimes, you know that? Do not contact me tonight or tomorrow for that matter, you douchebag,” Harry barks before storming off towards the dressing rooms.
All the employees were standing around in shock, staring at the popstar as he ignored everyone around him.
Harry was famously known for being a kind, amicable guy. So it took everyone by surprise to hear him speak like that. Even Jeff was shaken up a little.
—
The house was pitch-black as Harry pulled up. The house’s first floor was lined with large, bay windows and not a single light was on.
He could find one room illuminated which was your bedroom. A dim side lamp must have been flicked on. He imagined her purposely turning off all the lights on the trek up the staircase.
Harry didn’t want to admit how much he was trembling with awful nerves and anticipation as he slowly turns the knob of the shared bedroom.
Y/N wasn’t laying in bed as he expected but found the bathroom door shut tightly. He noticed a little yellow bag with tissue paper off to the side by a dresser.
He knocks on the oak door, not daring to enter without permission.
“What do you want?” Y/N answers, tone flat and emotionless.
“Can I come in, baby? Please...” He wasn’t ashamed to beg for forgiveness at this point. Hearing the emptiness in her tone scared him shitless.
“I really could care less,” She replies coldly from her spot in the scalding water decorated with bubbles.
Harry had never felt more unsure in his life as he enters the bathroom. Y/N had gotten proper pissed at him or vice versa before - right before a concert, an award ceremony but she’d never left without him.
Her head was laying against the foam headrest and her body was covered by the soap water. She looked tired and her eyes were puffy from crying.
Harry kneels next to the tub, “look at me, please pet.”
Y/N takes a moment before turning her head and opening her eyes. They were distant, disappointed in the man in front of her.
“I should have told you about Kendall. I should have put up more of a fight to get someone else on instead,” Harry admits, his hands desperately wanting to reach out for her.
She shakes her head with a heart-wrenching sniffle, “it’s not just tonight, Harry. We’ve had this conversation continuously for three and a half fucking years. You try to please everyone, despite them giving no fucks about you.”
“Are you that much of a pushover? You let your ex-girlfriend flirt with you in front of millions. Do you know how embarrassing and unfair that it to me?” She wipes at her eyes to stop the tears spilling over.
Harry hadn’t thought of it like that - to be honest. But he agrees, it wasn’t fair and downright cruel to do that to her.
What? All because he couldn’t say ‘no’ because he didn’t want people to be mad at him? It was pathetic and ridiculous.
“I-I won’t let it happen again, lovie. I mean it, I truly do,” Harry whimpers reaching over to cup her cheek and wants to cry when she pushes him away.
“You’re a broken record. You’ve said that a million times before but don’t change,” Y/N points out, eyes boring furiously into his wife’s.
“I’m goi-“
She cuts him off with a sharp edge in her tone, “Just leave me alone, get out.”
The man’s face crumbles and for a second, she wants to just end the fight and makeup but then nothing would change.
“Baby-“
“Get out!” She finally bellows, tears streaming down her face steadily.
He obliges, head hung in defeat as he closes the door behind him. He stands there’s blankly for a second before going to the walk-in closet.
He’s pulling out a fresh pair of cotton underwear and a large sleepshirt for his partner, laying them neatly on the bed.
Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself while he waits so he pulls out his phone to mindlessly scroll.
He throws it against the wall when he sees #hendallreunited is trending number one on Twitter at the moment.
The singer strips down to his briefs and sits with his back against the tufted headboard, staring blankly at the wall.
His eyes catch a neon pink pair of his swimshorts tossed carelessly on the decorative vase in the corner of the room from the night before .
“Fuck, baby - no need to rush,” Harry groans into Y/N ‘s mouth as she pushes him until he’s sat on the edge of their California king.
She reaches impatiently for the tie on his neon pink swimshorts and yanks them off his slim, peach-fuzz thighs before throwing them onto the vase without a care that it was worth over twenty-thousand pounds.
After edging her in the hot tub with his fingers and mouth, she wasn’t waiting any longer before clambering onto his lap, pulling her swim bottoms to the side, and sinking onto him.
He felt guilty when his cock twitched at the thought of it. But when reality set back in, the arousal with the memory evaporated.
It isn’t much longer until the door is pulled open and Y/N’s padding into the room with a towel secured around her.
She looks at the clothes Harry set out for her and pointedly walks past them to pick out her own nightwear.
That really shouldn’t make his eyes tear up as he watches her slide on a similar pair of panties and an oversized shirt. Spotting a purpling bruise on her upper in thigh from his mouth.
Y/N silently walks past the bed and to the bedroom door, looking back before bleakly stating, “I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”
He frowns, wrinkles appearing on his forehead, “You can sleep in here, love. I’ll take the guest room.”
Harry doesn’t get a reply as she just shakes her head and closes the door loudly behind her.
It’s just - he’s never seen her this upset. She was usually fantastic at communicating her feelings and hashing things out.
She wasn’t one for the silent treatment or ignoring the topic. It had his chest rising faster than usual with anxiety. The serious of it overwhelming him.
He states at the wall for a very long time without wiping the fat tears brimming over his trembling lips.
*
He couldn’t sleep - it was half past three and he hadn’t even laid down or clicked off the lamp.
Harry accepted sleep wasn’t coming so he begins to tidy the already clean room. He picks up the shorts and tossing them in the hamper.
He refolds some joggers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer and when he went to move the little yellow bag - curiosity got the best of him.
There was no card and he wasn’t sure who it was for or if it had been a gift already give to Y/N that she had returned home with.
Harry really shouldn’t - but he does. Gently tugging out the paper and reaching in to feel fabric.
Pulling it out, it takes him a minute to identify what it is - two baby onesie. Who was having a baby?
He lays them in front of him, eyes widening in surprise as he reads what is printed across the black cotton.
The first one was the colors and font of his upcoming tour merch with the photo he used on his tour announcement with the heeled boot and white pants.
Love on Tour - Due Date: September 2025
With Special Guest Appearance from Baby Styles
The second one was simple and read across the chest:
I’m having your baby (and it is your business) with embroidered kiwis all of over it.
He frantically reached back into the bag to pull out a bundle of pregnancy tests tied with a silk bow.
They weren’t necessarily trying for a baby but they’re weren’t not trying either. Harry wanted a baby as soon as his missus was willing to give him one.
“No, no, don’t one,” she’d whined into his mouth when he’d reached over to grab a condom off the nightstand.
“Oh sweet thing, you want me bare? Fill you up?” He croons happily, coming back to grip at his thick base and tease at her entrance.
“Ye-yeah, H. Please,” (Y/N) whimpers, bucking her hips in the hope he’d slip inside her.
Harry hums, “Might give you a baby though, y’want me to knock you up?”
“Want it, wan-“
He cuts her off with a hard, blissful kiss as he thrusts all the way inside before pulling out to do it again.
“Gonna give it to you, whatever you want, lovie,” he promises.
The two had never used protection afterwards. It had start about seven months ago and from his knowledge she’d still been getting her periods regularly.
Occasionally, he would palm at her flat tummy and pout, “Haven’t put a baby in you yet, ‘ave I?”
He was so ecstatic but disappointed in himself for ruining everything and pleasing everyone other than who he should be.
Harry needed to fix this. He didn’t want Y/N to lose the excitement of having their baby over a dumb choice of his.
The man’s out of the room and not knocking before entering their guest room. His now pregnant love is laying on-top of the covers.
One hand subconsciously on her belly - which she removes and places next to her when her wife walks in.
The television was on but the volume was low and Y/N wasn’t watching it in the first place anyways.
Harry sits on the edge of the bed, “I opened the yellow bag.”
She looks at him with wide eyes, a little taken aback. she was going to surprise him tonight and forgot to store it away for another time after the fight.
Harry has happy tears dribbling down his cheeks, “you’re having my baby?”
Y/N nods, running a slight hand through his curls. She still had a nasty knot of anger and uncertainty in the pit of her stomach.
It pains her, wanting to share this moment of excitement with Harry but she just couldn’t. The uncertainty of whether Harry would put everybody’s needs before his own baby.
“Come back to bed, want t’talk and celebrate. M’so bloody excited,” Harry murmurs, a large smile decorating his face as he smooths a palm over the expanse of her tummy.
His wife shakes her head and places a hand over his, feeling the cold metal of all of them. “I want to be left alone.”
The twinkle in Harry’s eye diminishes to devastation as he realizes that he’s fucked up so badly that she doesn’t even want to celebrate.
“Pet, can...we just forget about it tonight and be happy ‘bout the baby?” Harry asks selfishly, knowing it was unlikely she’d agree.
She didn’t, a firm expression on her face, “no, I have a lot to think about.”
“Like wha’?” He asks anxiously, unknowing of quite the reason she was so furious.
“Like how you say yes to everything and everyone. We talk and talk about how you need to say ‘no’ and do what’s best for you - for us. You agree to and never follow through”
She takes a shaky breath and continues, “it’s affected our relationship before when you’ve had to cancel our vacation away from all this for a charity concert you’d agree to perform at last minute, dinner reservations because you told your friend we’d be at their art showing they wanted you at.”
Harry knew she was right. He did those things. He wanted everyone to be happy with him - to a fault.
“Tonight was just icing on the cake, you allowed your manager to talk you into hosting your ex on that show. Out of all the people in the world - her. With flirty questions and jabs from her. You let that happen. You care about making everyone happy but in return you don’t care how it affects me. That’s pretty shitty.”
“I’m...I’m really fucking scared you’ll do that even when we have the baby. I need you to put them first and right now...I’m not sure if you’re going to. You can’t put the person you want to spend the rest of your life with first now, how do I know you’ll do it with the baby?”
Harry chokes out a sob as he presses his forehead against the bed, his broad shoulders shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried this hard - years ago maybe. He felt like his wife didn’t have any faith in him and he was to blame.
He looks up at her with swollen eyes - at a loss for what to do or say. He loved her so much and was over the moon that they were going to have a baby.
“How do I fix this, darling? You’re right, I really fucked up. M’sorry,” Harry cries, grabbing at her hands and she allows it.
“Just saying you’re sorry won’t fix it,” Y/N replies flatly, letting Harry squeeze and kiss at the backs of her hands.
“Then what do I bloody do to fix this?” Harry raises his voice in frustration, staring in bewilderment at his wife.
Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “Do not raise your voice at me, Harry. Actions speak louder than words.”
Harry swallows harshly, pressing one finally kiss to her hand. “Okay.”
“Okay?” She repeats.
“I love you, I’ll fix this,” he promises with conviction. He knew what he needed to do and do it tomorrow. So he and his wife could enjoy her new pregnancy.
“I need space tonight, I just...please”Y/N says quietly, rubbing at his shoulder.
It wasn’t the first time they’ve slept in separate rooms because they weren’t getting along but they normally found their way back to each other before sunrise.
Harry nods, lip still tremble with the residual anxiety of the conversation. She allows him to press a soft kiss to her mouth before leaving the room.
—-
Cafe Habana was busy - but no one was paying much attention to Harry and Jeff. It was the morning after and Harry had demanded a meeting over breakfast with his manager.
“Y/N pregnant,” Harry states bluntly after their drinks arrive.
“Oh? Congratulations, dude. That’s exciting!” Jeff leans over to pat him on the shoulder, a big smile.
“The baby is due in September. My next tour starts in next July. The baby will be about nine months. I want to be at home with them for the first year.”
Jeff doesn’t look pleased, “what are you getting at Harry?”
“Reschedule the July and August tour dates. Tack them on to the end of the tour,” Harry lays out flat.
He hadn’t talk to his wife about this but he knew this was how he could prove that he could say ‘no’ and not be a pushover.
“No Harry. Look I get you’re excited about the baby - but that will be such a fucking hassle,” Jeff frowns, sipping his mimosa.
“I’m not asking, Jeff. I’m telling you that’s what needs to happen,” Harry replies firmly, tone strong and unwavering.
Jeff is definitely taken aback by his client’s conviction.
“While we’re on the topic, do not ever put me in a situation like you did yesterday. It affected my wife and I. And I will choose her over this career any day.”
The manager nods in surprise, “Harry, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not asking for an apology but if you ever pull something like then I’ll be looking for a new management team. Are we clear?”
Jeff once again nods, unsure of where this is coming from but at the thought of losing his biggest client would be disastrous so he’d do whatever to accommodate him.
“Consider it done,” he tells Harry before clearing his throat in a slight panic.
—
Y/N woke up to an empty house. She was restless, she asked Harry to prove to her that he could be what she needed. However, it was a bit unfair because she didn’t know how he could do it.
It’s just…she had a baby to think about. They both needed to be put first and if it took a gnarly fight for Harry to realize it...so be it.
“Baby? Love, where are you?” She hears Harry echo through the whole house. She was sat in the kitchen, on a stool by the island, idly sorting through mail.
“In here!”
Harry jogs in, panting like he sprinted from the garage up to the kitchen. He comes to stand in front of the love of his life.
“I might have not completely fixed everything but...I tried,” Harry tells her, cradling her face in his large palms. “ I just got back from lunch with Jeff. I told him about the baby.”
He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I rescheduled tour dates so I can be with you guys at home in London for the first year. Then...maybe you guys can join me after?”
“Harry…” she’s at a loss for words.
“And I told Jeff that if he ever puts me in a situation like that again, I’m firing him.”
Y/N stares at him, in awe and admiration of the man she chose to marry and keep forever. His face was so sincere and vulnerable.
Harry didn’t know whether it would be enough. If it wasn’t he’d keep trying but all he could do was hope. He waited with bated breath as she processed his words.
“Baby, you-for me?” She murmurs as she stands up and crowds into his space. He instantly wraps her up into a tight hug, missing her touch.
“Of course, pet. I’d do anything for you, I mean it. I’d quit this whole career if you wanted tha’,” he tells her truthfully - lips brushing her forehead.
“I love you, so so much,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a kiss to his lips.
“We’re havin’ a baby,'' Harry sighs dreamily into her mouth, tongue sliding against hers. A large hand came to palm at her belly.
“Yeah, m‘having your baby,” She giggles as he begins to trail the kisses down her jaw and neck - pressing her into the marble countertop.
“Should we name it Kiwi?” Harry rasps as he slides the tank top strap off her shoulder so his lips can meet the cap of her warm shoulder.
“We are not going to be that celebrity couple who names their baby something weird,” Y/N groans as he grounds his hips into hers with intent.
THE END
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