SUMMARY: Y/N is with Harry on his world tour, and suddenly everything is a bit too much for her
FLUFFY, WHOLESOME, PROTECTIVE HARRY
Disclaimer: this was inspired by another one shot but I can’t for the life of my find it again to credit it! As soon as I find it I’ll tag the original writer 💖
During his world tour, you hadn’t missed a single second of one of Harry’s shows. Your heart swelled every time you watched him do what he did best, and you wanted to be there every step of the way. A month in, however, you started to feel the excitement falter. It became harder to wake up and look forward to a day of busy people running past you and shouting down walkie talkies, or Harry’s frowning face when the tech would be faulty. If anything, the excitement died down and unmasked how truly uncomfortable you were, and how madly overwhelmed the experience was making you. You knew yourself though, you knew you just had to adjust to the travelling life and then you’d be fine! So, you pushed this feeling aside, and walked under Harry’s arm to every rehearsal, and every show. This was, until a show somewhere in Australia. You’d never been this far from home and were very aware of it. During soundchecks and phone calls, you tried to ask Harry when his next “few nights off” were, but he was either whisked away or laughed, asking why you needed time off at all. You frowned then, obviously you could see how harry felt you didn’t need to rest: you weren’t working, you weren’t up all night, you just watched your boyfriend sing amongst hundreds of extremely stressed people. So you pushed the unease down even deeper. As you did every night, before Harry ran on stage in another beautiful suit, he kissed you passionately backstage. He’d then look straight at you in your usual spot to one side, away from the chaos. So that night, you kissed him back, held his face in your hands, and bid him good look. Watching him out there brought you so much joy, you felt ready for a moment of release from the tension rattling around your body, but when the lights went out and the crowd roared, the sheer volume of it all felt like a punch in the stomach. You stepped backwards a little, almost being able to feel the impact. It only got worse when Harry finally stepped outside. Your brain felt like it was going to explode. Seeing your hesitation when glancing your way, Harry stood still, looking at you with intent before someone in his crew caught his silent signal: “Y/N. Now.”
“Y/N, you okay?” One of the head technicians asked you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You looked at harry pleadingly, waiting for him to move, and perform to the thousands of adoring fans rather than watching you.
“It’s too loud,” you replied timidly.
“Can I get some muffs?!” He shouted over his shoulder. You flinched at his booming voice before taking the big yellow earphones from him. The muffled, quieter screaming calmed you down a little. You sighed then, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Harry nodded then, seemingly satisfied with your level of comfort. As the concert ran on, the lights seemed to be getting brighter, dazzling you with every rotation. You frowned and looked at the ground, trying to focus on something dark. The lights were too much though and all of the space around you flashed white. Unable to endure the heightened experience any longer, you shook your head, turning on your heels and rushing away, back to Harry’s dressing room. In the interval, you managed to hear the music stopping, and expected harry would just hang around chatting to his crew until he had to go back on. However, less than thirty seconds from the last line of the final song, the door of the dressing room burst open, and a sweaty, suited, extremely concerned Harry strode in. As soon as his eyes landed on you on the couch, he softened while his eyebrows furrowed together.
“Darling,” he started, kneeling on the floor beside you and cupping your clammy hand in his warm one, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you shook your head, giving the weakest smile. He raised an eyebrow at you. He didn’t even have to vocalise that he didn’t believe you. After all, you were lying on the small couch in the room, your body entirely tensed, one of Harry’s hoodies hanging off your body, your jaw clenched. He moved a hand to stroke your hair and your closed your eyes, screwing them shut before feeling your bottom lip begin to wobble. This just made you feel so much worse. The anger you felt at yourself for not being able to hold it together began to push you over the edge.
“Sweetheart, shhhhhh,” he whispered, pulling your smaller frame even closer towards him and sitting you up. You pushed your face into his shoulder. “Darling you need to tell me what’s wrong.” His voice, although full of love, was assertive. With that, you let go of the tension you held in your muscles, allowing your body to tremble aggressively. Your legs shook and your hands reached up to hold onto the back of his shirt. You felt him gasp when this started, as one of his hands stroked your bouncing thigh while the other arm wrapped around your waist.
“I think I’m having an anxiety attack,” you whispered, trying to concentrate on the feeling of the expensive material between your fingers. Harry nodded.
“Harry it’s time to go!” Some woman shouted from the door of the changing room. You clung onto him harder, needing the tiny amount of comfort he was able to give you here.
“I need a minute!” He shouted back, hands over your ears. He moved back then, face level with yours. “What can I do babe? What’s caused all this?” The crowd was chanting Harry’s name now.
“It’s too loud,” you whimpered, feeling the pressure of thousands of people wanting Harry back for another fifteen minutes. “It’s too loud and I don’t feel safe,” you managed, before breaking down in tears.
“Oh darling, it’s okay! Everything is okay! You’ve got security around you all the time, yeah? And I’m always looking back for you. I was worried when you weren’t there anymor-“
“HARRY YOU NEED TO GO!” A voice boomed.
“I NEED A MINUTE!” He shouted back, rolling his eyes.
“Harry, just go,” you muttered weakly, flopping backwards against the back of the couch with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. He shook his head, eyes full of pain from seeing you this way.
“Do you want to stay here until I’m finished? Or do you want to go back to the hotel with Rob?” You picked at the hem of his hoodie.
“I can’t have Rob, babe, he’s your security guard.”
“Rob will do what he has to do to make me feel safe and happy, and you being more calm will make me safe and happy. Do you want to stay here for a little bit or are you gunna go back and wait at the hotel? I won’t be far behind you.” He stroked your thigh as the crowd began roaring again.
“HARRY-“ Jeff was now outside the door.
“JUST A MOMENT. PLEASE.” He looked back at you, waiting for a decision. Your thoughts felt like they were a hurricane, going so fast and completely out of control. “Baby, pleas-“
“I’ll go back,” you whispered, shocked by your own response. Harry leant forward and kissed your forehead strongly. “My brave girl,” he whispered, before going to the door of the dressing room. You heard a gasp and a “finally,” from Jeff before Harry announced: “before I go on, Rob is taking Y/N back to the hotel.”
“Harry you’re not negotiating with me. Get on stage. Now.” Jeff sounded so angry, and it was your fault. You pulled your knees up to your chest and started shaking again, tears welling up.
“Rob?! ROB.” Harry shouted over his angry team. “You’re taking Y/N back to the hotel now.”
“Harry, I have to stay with you,”
“I don’t give a fuck. Y/N needs to go back. Take her back. She only feels safe with you.” The crowd was erupting once again as there was a moment of quiet in the group outside the door.
“Okay,” you heard a resigned Rob say.
“Thank you,” Harry breathed, turning back and entering the dressing room again. He gave you a squeeze and kissed you again. “You go with Rob, darling, and I’ll be back before you know it, yeah? Shhh now, it’s okay,” he rubbed your legs, feeling the shaking. “Baby I really have to go, and so do you, yeah? Come on,” he mumbled softly, pulling you to your feet. You wobbled slightly. With an arm protectively slung around your shoulders, Harry brought you to the door. Before Jeff could start shouting again, his eyes landed on your figure. You looked weak and pale. Your usually excited and happy eyes were now puffy and stared at the ground. You moved your hair to be in front of your face with shaky hands. Jeff nodded at harry, before beckoning Rob back over. Harry turned to you, hands on your shoulders.
“You have to be brave now, okay? As soon as you’re in the car you’ll be safe, and then when you’re in the room you are the safest. The hotel security will be at the door and rob will come back for me. I’ll be there within an hour.” You nodded, leaning in to kiss him again. “I love you so much,” he whispered against your lips.
“I love you too. Good luck,” you whispered back, before Harry was whisked away again. You stood alone for a minute, before hearing Harry get back on the stage and the crowd scream. Rob had stuck around to see his safe arrival, then made a beeline for you.
“Ready?” He asked. You nodded before following him through winding corridors and cavernous rooms. “The car is at a different entrance, less people there.” He explained. You felt a little relief at that. When the back door opened and the cool night air hit you, you sighed softly. But then someone spotted you.
“Oh my God! Is that Y/N?!” Then a much smaller eruption started. But it was enough to scare you. You knew you couldn’t be there any longer. You froze up, completely panic stricken. Rob’s arm came towards you and grabbed your wrist softly, making you move quickly to the car. You jumped in and flopped back against the cool leather. Feeling the car pull away was blissful for a moment, before the guilt took over. This was about Harry, not you. You’d made all these fans wait so long for the final songs, and people had seen you leave early. You frowned and leaned against the door, wondering how something as simple as watching your boyfriend work could have gone so wrong. Pulling up to the hotel, the crowd of people was a different story. Fans and paparazzi alike stood and craned their necks to glimpse the superstar. Rob got out of the car before opening your door and wrapping a big arm around your shoulders. Cameras flashed in your face and shouts of your name circled you. Pushing through and shouting, Rob manoeuvred you toward the doors of the hotel. You couldn’t feel your legs, but you kept moving, keeping your eyes down and Harry’s hood up. The cold, quiet, marble lobby was a welcome rush of calm. The storm outside was still happening, with cameras flashing through the windows. Numbly, you followed Rob into the elevator and down the corridor to your suite.
“Thank you,” you whispered to Rob, giving a (probably inappropriate) hug before stepping into the room. You heard him tell another member of security what was going on, before they switched places so Rob could return to the arena. You stood in the doorway, kicking off your shoes, then entered. The living area had been cleaned, the room service dishes from earlier had vanished and the pillows had been plumped again. Turn down service had been completed in the bedroom, finished with a bottle of wine in a bucket and some snacks on a silver plate. In the kitchen area, a tray was set out with a selection of teas, coffees and mugs, and a new, night time room service menu sat there. You glanced over the options before rolling your eyes. You didn’t want swordfish or truffle mac and cheese. If anything, you just wanted normal food. You needed some normality. You made yourself a cup of tea and padded back into the bedroom. Clicking the TV on, you shimmied out of your jeans and pulled your bra off from under your t shirt. You lay down in the bed then, amongst twenty plush pillows and a thick, crisp, duvet. You had only finished half of your tea before hearing the door click open, and hearing Harry wander in. You looked at the door to see him holding the menu.
“Wanna get food?” He smiled, wiggling it towards you. You giggled quietly.
“I don’t want any fancy food, I just want normal food.” Harry made his way to the phone. “What are you doing?” He just smiled.
“Hi, I was just wondering if we were able to get food that’s not on the menu here? We just want some pizzas. What’s my room number? 1210.” He smirked slightly, hearing the person on the other end of the line gasp. They knew this was not only the best suite in the hotel, but that they had a very important guest staying there. “Thank you. Can we get a Hawaiian and just a margarita? Thank you so much.” He smiled, hanging up the phone.
“You shouldn’t do that!” You scolded him, slapping his arm gently. “But thank you,” you smiled shyly. He leaned down and kissed your forehead.
“How are you feeling?” He asked softly, stroking your hair out of your face. You just shrugged.
“Kinda numb at this point. Leaving was definitely the right thing to do but I feel so guilty now.” He frowned, stroking the back of his fingers down your face and neck to settle on tracing patterns on your arm.
“Don’t feel guilty about this, okay? It’s not your fault and nothing you could have done would have changed the outcome of this. I have a few days off this weekend and we can do whatever you like. I’m sorry I didn’t realise earlier, darling.” You shook your head then.
“It’s not your fault either, though. I knew I felt uneasy but I just ignored it. I know I shouldn’t do that but I know I’ll be fine in a couple days.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’m sorry I missed a lot of the show.” You whispered, looking down at the mattress and fiddling with the bottom of Harry’s shirt.
“I’d prefer you missed shows and felt safe than dragged yourself out here and hated it.” He responded quickly, moving your face up to look at him. “I love you so much, and you’re always physically safe at my shows. Mentally you might not be, but that’s up to you to tell me or to take whatever steps you have to to prevent this happening, yeah? I don’t mind for one second if you miss fifty shows! If you’re happy, then I’m happy, okay?” He looked deep into your eyes.
“Okay,” you whispered back, letting him kiss you passionately.
