Fr

It feels like a lifetime ago when we first met. Back in the X-Factor days, we were just kids, fresh-faced and wide-eyed, both trying to figure out what the hell we were doing. I was focused on the band, trying to get through the process, but then you came in with that smile of yours, and everything just clicked. You were already a solo artist when I joined One Direction, but that never mattered. It wasn’t about competition or fame—it was about us. You made everything easier. We’d stay up talking for hours, swapping stories about life, love, and music. There was this spark between us that neither of us could deny.

At the time, we were both so young, not really knowing how to navigate the world we’d stepped into. The industry, the fans, the pressure—it was overwhelming, but you were always the one I turned to. You kept me grounded and I think you needed that too. We became inseparable, even when the world around us felt chaotic.

Over the years, things evolved. We both found success in our own ways—I had the band, you had your solo career, but we always made time for each other. We knew what we had was real, it wasn’t about the fame, the money or any of that nonsense. It was about us, our connection.

We got engaged eight years ago—something I’ll never forget. I had no doubt about us, not for a second. We were always meant to be together. A year later, we were married and then came the twins—Autumn and Noelle—two little girls who changed our lives completely.

The touring? That was intense. After nearly two years on the road, I realized I couldn’t keep up that pace forever. I needed to slow down. I needed time with you and the girls. There’s more to life than concerts and the spotlight. The last thing I want is for my family to feel neglected.

And now here we are, fifteen years later. Life’s settled into a new rhythm, but that spark between us? It’s still there. I’m not sure I ever really believed in “soulmates” until I found you. We’ve seen it all—ups, downs, the good and the bad—but we’ve always had each other and that’s the only thing that matters in the end.

🎤 | Morgan Jay show

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

upcoming bots!!

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

Oh god, I just meant you make a lot of bots every day, I didn't know you had an accident😭

hope you have a well recovery ❤️ (idk if that makes sense, English isn't my first language but whatever)

ops haha, yeah I have time unfortunately or luckily, it depends. English isn't my first language either don't worry (I'm Italian, so yeah) thank you so much!!! 😽😽

girl i had this crazy idea and like if you don't wanna do it it's totally fine. 2016ish Harry, he and user have been dating for about 2 years and she's like the daughter of a wealthy and well-known lawyer so she's like known since years and everything, but him and user are out like for a date or smth and they're waiting his driver to come pick 'em up when a guy walking by sees Harry's not looking so he tries to steal her bag and when harry sees it he gets mad and everything he pushes him away and so he runs away, but he's like super protective and like idk. hope you understood, thank you! 💓

I really hope it turned out like you wanted!!

We met at a charity event in London—one of those glossy, high-society nights where everyone’s dressed like they’re headed to the Met Gala and pretending they’re not watching each other. You stood out immediately, not just because you were beautiful—but because you didn’t care about any of it. And I needed that.

At the time, my life was a whirlwind—tours, cameras, fake smiles, interviews where I had to say everything just right. I’d been in the spotlight so long, I forgot what real felt like. But you reminded me.

Your last name carries weight—your father, one of the most powerful lawyers in England and the U.S.—everyone knows him. And everyone has an opinion about you. But you never let it define you. You were fierce, independent, smart as hell. The kind of person who could walk into any room and own it—but still choose to stand quietly in the corner instead.

Falling for you wasn’t slow or subtle. It was instant. It was a collision. But with us came attention. The press couldn’t resist, the cameras didn’t go away. The lies. The speculation. The fans who loved us and the ones who hated you just for being with me. The reporters digging into your past, your family. The constant eyes. We tried to protect what we had. We stopped holding hands in public. We stopped going out at all. But love doesn’t shrink. It doesn’t get smaller to fit into someone else’s idea of what’s appropriate.

So we kept going. Two years now. And we’ve held on. But nothing—nothing—prepared me for tonight. The moment I saw someone put their hands on you, try to take something from you… it unlocked a part of me I didn’t know existed. Because I can take people yelling at me. I can take the headlines and the lies. But I won’t let anyone touch the person I love.

🥷🏻 | someone tries to rob you

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

2013-2015

2013

🎥 | that ain't my baby, that ain't my girl

🕊️ | having a baby after breaking up

👶🏻 | 3 months old baby girl while being on tour

👧🏻 | he meets your daughter

🥤 | undefined relationship

👩🏻‍💻 | the tabloid affair

📱 | fans and their beliefs

🌹 | first valentine's day together

2014

💻|| this is why we should have kids

🌈 | One line...or two?

💍 | I need you to say no

🎡 | Coachella

✒️ | he got your eyes tattooed

2015

☕ | running into your ex after 3 years

I'm still kinda new to all of this ahahah but would any of you like me to tag you in the bot posts? I wanted to do it, so if someone wants to, you can like this post xx

girl do you ever sleep

usually: yes. but since I had a small accident at home a few weeks ago so I have to rest for another week: no :)

it just hurts, it's nothing serious, just a broken vertebra but yes...it bothers and hurts.

You were always mine. Not officially, not out loud—but from the beginning, when we were just two idiots watching movies in each other’s beds, stealing fries, sharing secrets. We weren’t dating. But we weren’t just friends either. It was that dangerous in-between. The kind of closeness where I could tell you anything—except how badly I wanted you.

I was going to say it, eventually. I just didn’t want to ruin what we had.

Then Axel came along—loud, arrogant, fake smile always turned up just a little too wide. He saw it—what I felt for you. I think that’s why he did it. He asked you out before I could and you said yes. I had to stand there and pretend it didn’t gut me. Pretend I was happy for you while he put his hands on something that was never his to take. Worse? He knew it. That’s why he started setting rules—no late texts from me, no sleepovers, no lingering touches. He didn’t just want you—he wanted to cut me out.

And I let him. For a while.

Until he fucked it up himself. Cheated. Lied. Said you weren’t official, like that made it better. You came back to me with eyes full of regret and guilt, apologizing for letting him drive a wedge between us. I didn’t need the apology, I’d already forgiven you the second you called.

What I didn’t forgive? Him acting like we were still friends—like I didn’t know what he said about you behind your back, like I hadn’t sat there, jaw clenched, as he tried to act like none of it mattered.

So yeah, when we hooked up that night at the party—drunk, angry, aching—it felt right. And wrong. And addictive. It didn’t stop there. It never does, with us. And if you think I feel bad for breaking the “bro code”? No. He broke that code the second he touched you because deep down you were always mine, he just borrowed you.

📳 | vindictive muse

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