Mollie

Harry learned early in his career that there were certain perks that came to being Harry Styles, and he certainly enjoyed taking advantage of all of them. Having a lot of money wasn’t something he could ever quite get used to.

Certain perks he rather enjoyed were getting to have millions of dollars in his bank account at all times, and being able to spend that millions of dollars on a private Fijian island just for him and Mollie on their honeymoon.

“Babe,” he said softly to his new wife that lay on a towel next to him on the beach, her head buried in her towel. Her top had been discarded the moment she laid down, and only a pair of bright yellow bottoms covered her, and they were barley there. “Babe,” he repeated, peppering kisses across her shoulders.

“Stop,” she muttered, lifting her shoulder to get him to stop.

“You’re starting to burn, love.”

She reached her hand out blindly, trying to find the sun block. She grabbed the bottle and handed it to him. He grabbed it from her and squirted the liquid onto his hands. He worked his hands against her back, applying a little too much pressure for it to be innocent. She was glad he couldn’t hear her sigh into the towel, wiggling against his hands. “Harry!” she yelped as he hands slid into her bottoms, squeezing her flesh.

“Whoops, sorry,” he grinned, running his hands back up her back.

She lifted her head up and turned to look a him, seeing a smug smile on his face. “You know, there are probably paps hiding somewhere, taking pictures of this,” she told him.

“No paps for miles and miles, baby.”

She turned onto her back, giving Harry a full view of her chest, to which he gladly took in. She reached for her top, but he quickly stopped her. “Babe, I’m serious,” she whined, as he moved so he was straddling her hips, pressing kisses up and down her neck. “Someone could be taking pictures right now.”

“No one knows we’re here, Mollie,” he insisted. “I promise no one is taking pictures right now.”

She let herself relax against the towel as he lavished her with kisses all over, his thumbs digging into her hips. “Not on the beach,” she muttered, tangling her hands in his hair, pulling slightly.

“Live a little, baby.”

“There’s gonna be sand in places that sand should not be and…no, just no,” she shook her head, but the moan that escaped her lips as he moved down to kiss the inside of her thigh told him she didn’t actually want him to stop.

“Harry,” she breathed, tugging on his hair. “Seriously, no.”

“Mol, come on. I’m about to do some of my best work here.”

She pulled herself up into a sitting position, reaching for her top and quickly putting it on. Much to Harry’s dismay. “I’m not getting sand in places that sand shouldn’t be,” she told him, standing up and holding out her hand as he pouted up at her. “Come on, Styles.”

“Coming, Styles.”

&&

The majority of their honeymoon was spent either on the beach or in bed. Or in the shower. Or the couch. Or against the wall. Or the pool chairs.

There wasn’t an inch of the villa they hadn’t had sex on.

The honeymoon bliss continued for nearly two weeks after they’d gotten back home and got back to reality. Mollie went back to work at Vogue- who ended up giving her a job in London when she turned the New York job down- and Harry continued doing a few things here and there, but mostly he stayed home with Ella.

Harry never thought being a “stay at home dad” would be something that he actually enjoyed, but he really did.

Mollie’s job began to pick up, and she seemed to be traveling back and forth from New York, to LA, and then back to London at least once a week. She was run down, exhausted, and just wanted to spend a week in bed watching Sex and the City. It took her a month to realize she was late.

The house was quiet when she got home from another trip to New York, not even Princess Ella barking at the door. She made her way up to the bedroom she shared with Harry, finding him laying across the bed, watching something on the television. “What are you doing home?” he asked, clearly surprised as he sat up.

She dropped her bags onto the floor and dove into the bed, wrapping herself around him. She buried her face in his neck, breathing in his scent. Her hands clung to his shirt. “You alright, love?” he asked softly, kissing her temple.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered against his shoulder. “And can’t really work because I’m constantly throwing up and I’m so exhausted, Harry. I’m so tired.”

He was quiet, still trying to wrap his head around the words “I’m pregnant.” He wasn’t expecting that to be what she said when she walked in the door.

“You’re okay though, right? The baby is okay?” he finally asked.

“The baby is fine,” she assured him. “Just a bit of morning sickness.” She tilted her head back to look at him, to see a small smile on his lips. “What?”

“You’re pregnant,” he whispered.

She leaned up, pressing her lips to his. She pulled back after a minute and cuddled back into him. Harry was sure that he now had a permanent smile on his face as he felt Mollies shifting against him, trying to get comfortable. “You’re going to be home for a while then, yeah? No more traveling all the time?” he asked softly.

“I’m in London for the foreseeable future,” she confirmed.

Harry was entirely too willing to do whatever Mollie asked him to do. If she wanted ice cream and pickles- which she often did- he was willing to get that for her. When she asked him to try it, he did. And then proceeded to lose the contents of his stomach. A part of him, mainly the guilty part, was just glad he and Mollie could enjoy the pregnancy without having to worry about the end. They were going to have a baby, and that baby was going to be healthy. Most importantly, so was Mollie.

And so, on October 25th, a healthy, little, Kieran James Styles was born. Ella, who had been hoping for a little sister, climbed up on Mollie’s hospital bed to get a good look at him. “That’s not a girl,” she pouted. “What is that?”

“Ella,” Mollie couldn’t help but laugh. “This is your baby brother, Kieran.”

“I don’t want him. Take him back.”

“Hey, don’t be like that,” Harry frowned at his daughter. “Give him a chance, yeah?”

People came in and out of the room all day, but Mollie couldn’t stay awake. Even as everyone around her laughed loudly and spoke loudly, she was able to fall asleep. And she didn’t wake up until the room was empty and only Harry was there. He sat in the chair next to the window, just staring at Kieran. “What are you doing, babe?” she asked, sitting up against her pillows and rubbing at her eyes.

“Trying to decide if he looks like me or you.”

“You, definitely,” she smiled.

He stood up, walking over to sit next to Mollie, Kieran cradled against his chest. “Ella will come around, right?”

She laughed, resting her head on his shoulder. “It won’t last long, don’t worry.”

&&

If someone would have told Harry that at 18, he’d be a father, he would have laughed in your face. If you would have told him at 25 he was going to be married with two kids, he would have thought you were crazy. But there were few things Harry would change about how his life started to change when he was 18.

Even when he woke up to Kieran screaming, Ella crying to “shut the baby up,” and Mollie insisting it was his turn, there wasn’t a single thing he’d change.