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#(then again making out in public and going to a harry styles concert together was stupid)
seawitchkaraoke · 2 years
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I will say this one more thing about this: I do not believe the other try guys (or even many people at 2nd try) knew Ned was cheating before they found out sometime earlier this month. Not because I have some blind faith in the other guys to be good ppl (imagine saying ‘‘he would never’‘ when someone you might have said that about literally just did smth horrible), but because:
- knowing he is cheating and hiding it/keeping him on would be an absolutely ridiculously stupid thing to do and I think they’re smarter than that. Because with how well known they are, that’s a ticking time bomb until someone will snap an incriminating picture in public and if it then comes out you’ve known and protected him? That’s your image of wholesome, good guys absolutely destroyed.
- all the claims that they did know for months or years, that i’ve seen came from random twitter or reddit accounts or were even entirely anonymous. That’s not evidence. That’s some random person saying some random shit
- they were already cutting him out of videos before the video was leaked. Meaning they were already preparing to cut ties with him regardless of whether the fact he was cheating came out or not so ‘‘oh they just have to fire him now bc it got out’‘ doesn’t really make sense.
- if him cheating was somehow an ‘‘open secret that the entire company knew’‘ it wouldn’t stay secret long. Nothing ever does if a lot of people know about it . You ever try to plan a surprise party for someone without someone tattling? This is this except tattling would seem like the more moral option to many ppl and make it even more likely that someone tells so again hiding it in that case is just a stupid strategy even with NDAs (bc your employee could leave instead of signing said nda or they could just hide their tracks well while leaking smth)
Now I will believe that they quite possibly weren’t planning on telling the public why they got rid of Ned, both to protect Ariel and others from harrassment and to protect their own image - any dirt on Ned also harms them bc if one of the wholesome good guys isn’t actually all that, maybe the others aren’t either. If the video wasn’t leaked I imagine they’d have been vague or said it was for personal reasons or whatever, but they still would have seperated from Ned.
I also think like.... listen, you can know your friend has flaws and maybe sometimes flirts too much when he’s drunk or sometimes says inappropriate shit and you can forgive him that and still be friends with him and try to push him in a better direction, you can do all that and never suspect he might be cheating. Because there’s a big jump from one to the other and we always see the best in the people we love. It’s easy to say in retrospect that it was obvious but shit like this is never obvious. You don’t suspect your friends of being capable of that stuff unless it’s pushed right in your face
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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years
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INTIMATE AND PUBLIC
A/N: i had this little concept in my mind all day yesterday and wrote it on the train quickly hehe. it could easily be a part 2 to the feeling is mutual, but it can be a standalone fic as well!
WORD COUNT: 1.2k
SUMMARY: Being on your honeymoon in Italy, you make some realizations about your marriage.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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It’s past eleven in the evening, but all the floor-to-ceiling windows in the master bedroom of your rental villa are wide open, the soft, white curtains are dancing in the gentle evening breeze and you can hear the waves crashing against the coast at the private beach you’ve been enjoying this past few days. Your honeymoon started off right after your intimate, but definitely fairytale-like wedding in England. Everyone thought you’d get married in Italy, and you discussed it too, but you wanted to be close to your roots, your life, your home is in England with Harry, though you tend to travel a lot, that’s where you go home to.
However, there was no question you’d come to Italy on your month-long honeymoon. An entire month, that’s right. Harry cleared out his whole schedule for the two weeks before the wedding and the month afterwards, so the two of you can go on your first adventure as a married couple. One week in Italy, one week in France, then a week on the Caribbean Sea on a massive yacht and you’ll finish it all off in Thailand. No work, no tour, no concerts, no nothing, just the two of you, enjoying the first month of your marriage.
You stretch lazily, the soft sheets all wrinkled around you from barely leaving the bed all day. Your hunger was the only thing that could get you out of the bedroom, so you went out to a nearby restaurant just to come back to the villa and do absolutely nothing.
The water stops running in the bathroom and you know Harry will appear any moment in just his boxers, damp curls bouncing around on top of his head, his delicious, slightly sunburnt skin glimmering from the steam in the shower. You can’t push a sigh down even just thinking about the sight you’ve been enjoying these past few days.
Looking down at your own hand you spot the dazzling diamond ring he engaged you with, which is now paired with your wedding band, a simple, not too flashy ring he gave you on your wedding after your vows that left no eyes dry at the ceremony.
Harry Styles is now your husband. Millions of women wish to be in your place, but you’re the only one who can say that you’re Harry’s and he is yours. Even though you were engaged for an entire year and the world knew that you were planning to get married, it’s still such a strange feeling that you’re officially bound together, and everyone will know about it soon.
The bathroom door opens and Harry walks out, looking just the way you were expecting him to, and he catches you staring at your rings as he climbs to the bed.
“Having second guesses?” he teases as he takes your hand and kisses the rings gently. Smiling to yourself you spot his own wedding band, the sight of it making your heart pitter-patter.
“Never,” you smirk at him before leaning closer to steal a kiss. The two of you settle in bed, lying on your side, facing each other as Harry plays with your fingers, lacing them together with his, so your rings are next to each other, and he seems just as mesmerized by the sight of them as you are.
“Don’t you think it’s weird?” you ask, eyes focused on the rings.
“That we got married?” he asks chuckling, though he knows too it’s not what you meant.
“That everyone will know we got married.”
“Why would it be weird?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug with a smile. “They will know that we chose each other. That we love each other.”
You can’t really grasp what’s this feeling that’s been lingering in your gut since the wedding, but Harry knows exactly what you mean even without the right words.
“It’s intimate and public at the same time, innit?” he hums, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles again.
“Exactly,” you nod into the pillow. “It’s such a deep and intimate decision to get married with someone, yet it’s out there for everyone to know from just looking at our fingers.”
“I like it that everyone will know you chose me,” he says and though his smile has a hint of cheekiness, you see the emotions behind the words, how seriously he meant it.
“People will definitely know now,” you grin at him and freeing your hand from his hold you move it to cup his face, he melts into your touch.
“You know what else they will know?” he asks, turning his head to kiss the palm of your head. You shake your head no. “That we are having sex!” He gasps dramatically as you start laughing.
“Oh no, you’re right!” you gape at him, playing along. “They will know you probably fuck me to oblivion every other night!”
Harry’s laughter ripples through the room as he winds your waist and pulls you closer against him.
“Just every other?”
“The rest, you’re soft. That’s not fucking,” you say, keeping a straight face as Harry nods in agreement.
“You’re right.” He holds up his hand and takes a look at his ring. “This is screaming that we are having mind-blowing sex all the time. How scandalous from us!” He shakes his head as you just laugh at his act. “I think people will know that you blew me on the beach the other day and that I made you cum with—”
“Enough!” you laugh, covering his mouth with your hands. “Don’t list every nasty things we did!”
“Oh Love, I couldn’t list everything, I wouldn’t finish before the end of our honeymoon,” he smirks at you, so pleased with himself as his hand wanders lower on your body until he can give your ass a squeeze, pulling you flush against him and you hook a leg over his hips.
“Maybe we shouldn’t wear our rings, so people won’t think of our sex life,” you say, knowing well this will get him rioting even though you were just joking.
As expected, he furrows his eyebrows at you, looking at you as if you just lost your mind.
“Already trying to get out of our marriage? We’ve been official for less than a week!”
“I was just joking, babe. I will never take my ring off,” you grin, cupping his face in your hands to pull him closer for a kiss.
“You better not, woman. I want everyone to know that I’m the only man you’re having sex with!”
“So you only married me for the sex? Nothing else?” you tease him smirking.
“Of course not,” he smiles softly.
“Then what else for? Let me hear the list!”
“My love, that list is even longer than the one about the dirty things!” His smirk widens before he presses his lips against mine, his hands already peeling off my shorts.
“Yeah? Sounds like you married a catch,” you hum against his lips, letting him slowly move on top of you, the weight of his hips welcomed between your legs.
“An absolute goddess,” he clarifies, his mouth already dipping to nib on your jawline and neck. “And goddesses need to be worshipped.”
You can only hum and moan as he peels you out of your night clothes you put on every night, but it’s useless, because they always end up on the floor anyway. Any Harry shows you just how much he worships you, as a goddess, the love of his life, his wife.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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driversatellite · 1 year
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this love | h.s | part one
synopsis: harry and y/n were in a secret relationship for years and unfortunately it had to come to an end, but a year after the split they find themselves face to face once again, maybe they can mend what was once broken. 
harry styles x desi!reader  
part one: y/n finds herself in the most unlikely place 
word count: 2.6k
series masterlist | main masterlist | next part
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Y/N L/N couldn’t believe she was standing in the GA line at the Forum for Harry Styles’ 15 night residency. If you had asked her what her plans for October 24 were months prior she probably would have said a glass of wine and her favorite romcom, definitely not her ex-boyfriend’s concert. But her superfan best friends had begged her to come with them and Y/N really could never say no to them. It was her people pleasing nature, she thought she’d be able to fake being sick to get out of it, but none of her usual tricks worked on her friends, so here she was standing in line with hundreds of others waiting to see her ex-boyfriend. 
It all started on May 5th when Harry announced his residency, Y/N’s best friends Quinn and Zoya were Harry superfans, so as soon as the LA residency was announced they had already made plans to go to as many shows as they could. Y/N on the other hand was worried, she hadn’t seen Harry since their breakup back in November of the previous year, and she really didn’t want to see him, she was still nursing her broken heart and didn’t want any reminders of him. Y/N and Harry had thought they would make it to the end, they really were that couple, but once his tour started up again and Y/N started her first year of medical school, a lot of things started going downhill. The distance put a strain their relationship and neither one of them wanted to tell the other to give up on their goals just to salvage the relationship so they decided to call it quits, it honestly was an amicable breakup, but the fact that they were still very much in love and couldn’t be together was what really broke Y/N. She hoped that they could have worked a little harder to try and make it work, but with their schedules it seemed impossible, so she guessed it was the end of them, but she truly wished he was the one. 
Y/N and Harry had met at one of their mutual friend’s dinner party and hit off immediately, Harry fell for the smart and kind girl and Y/N fell for the down to earth musician who had the purest heart. They had decided to keep their relationship as private as they could, Harry didn’t want the public to ruin it for them, he loved her too much. So, only very few people knew they were together, their families and their inner circles. Y/N wasn’t as close with Quinn and Zoya when her and Harry were together, so she had never told them about the relationship, and seeing as they were superfans Y/N really didn’t want to open that can of worms with them. She had only told her family and her childhood best friend and she liked it that way, she liked knowing that their relationship was just their’s. She knew that romance wasn’t dead if they kept it just theirs, it was other people who ruined it. 
Which is why they didn’t even think when they decided to buy Y/N a ticket for one show, they wanted to drag her out, because after her breakup she had become a recluse. They didn’t tell Y/N about how they were all going to the concert until her birthday, which was only a couple weeks before the show. 
“What?” Y/N was dumbstruck as Quinn held out her phone with the ticket code and a boa in the other hand. 
“We’re seeing Harry Styles together!” Quinn grins and Y/N just stared blankly at her best friend. 
Zoya frowned at Y/N’s lack of reaction, “Aren’t you excited? You can finally have a night out and enjoy some of the best live music.”
Y/N quickly composed herself, trying to find the right words to say, “Yeah, I'm just shocked I guess, I didn’t know you guys got me a ticket.” 
Quinn smiled, “We wanted to surprise you, it’s your birthday gift silly, we’re also buying you your outfit for the show, we want you to have fun y/n/n, you’re always staying in nowadays.” 
“I know, I’m just stressed with school and all, and with all the exams coming up, it’s just been a lot.” Y/N tries to explain, she was trying to figure out the best way to let her friends down, cause she honestly didn’t think she’d be able to step foot into the Forum without breaking down into a complete mess. 
“I know, but you work so much y/n/n, you deserve to have fun, I promise we’ll have the best time, his shows are truly incredible and you get to dress up, and we all know you’re a fashion girlie at heart.” Zoya says. 
Y/N falters, she knew her friends meant well, but she just wasn’t ready to see Harry again, “I appreciate it guys, but I don’t know if I can go, I have a huge exam coming up.”
“I promise to study with you every single day until the concert, I’ll do anything, we just really want you to come with us y/n/n.” Quinn says. 
Y/N looked at the pleading looks on her best friends’ faces and caved, she truly couldn’t say no to them, “Fine, but you better study with me every single day Quinn.”
Quinn grinned as she nodded eagerly before pulling Y/N and Zoya into her arms, “Oh this is going to be so fun.” Y/N couldn’t do anything but muster up a weak smile as she hugged her friends. 
True to her word Quinn did study with Y/N every single day, she also dragged Y/N to every single boutique that she could find to find the best outfit for the concert, but it was Zoya who had ultimately found the best dress for Y/N to wear on one of her thrifting trips. It was a simple slip dress with intricate embroidery and lace detailing, she had also found the perfect burgundy boots to go with the dress. 
The night before the concert was when it really started to hit Y/N, she had a bundle of nerves in her stomach and she felt nauseous the entire night, she couldn’t believe she was actually going to see Harry again, it had been almost a year, and she still didn’t think she was ready. 
Quinn and Zoya had showed up to Y/N’s apartment around noonish with their outfits and numbered wristbands in hand, they had gone and camped out to get their place in line, Y/N had politely declined, saying that she was feeling sick--which honestly wasn’t a lie--and wanted to be feeling 100% for the show. The girls had a great time getting ready together. Y/N had missed this part of going out, she loved dressing up, it was the going out part that she didn’t miss as much. Not too long after they were on their way to Forum, Zoya and Quinn were practically jumping off the walls with excitement and Y/N sat in the back of the car with a jumble of nerves in her stomach. 
Though she was utterly terrified of what the night would bring, there was a small tiny part of Y/N that was excited to see Harry again, it truly had been too long, and even though the break up had been amicable, neither one had reached out to the other. She wondered if Harry had moved on, Y/N had tried to, she went on a few dates that Quinn and Zoya set her up on, but none of them compared, no one could ever compare to her Harry, he truly was her match. Y/N quickly shook those thoughts away, her goal for the night was to have fun and pretend that she was just another fan who had come to enjoy the music, not the ex-girlfriend of the popstar. 
Once they got to the Forum that’s when it all started to sink in for Y/N, she felt like throwing up but seeing the joy on Zoya and Quinn’s faces helped her stay calm, she was doing this for them, she hadn’t been the greatest friend to them, she had always stayed in when they invited her out, it wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend time with them, it was just that she hated going out now, all she did on her nights off was drink wine, eat cookies, and ugly cry to her favorite rom coms. So her going to the concert with them was to make up for that, she wanted to see her friends happy, she wanted to be happy with them, so if this concert made them happy, she would do it for them. 
They got in line, they had gotten decent numbers when they had camped out so Y/N knew that they would be pretty close to the stage and she knew that Harry always watched the crowd and he could pick out a face easily, especially a face he knew. Quinn and Zoya conversed with the other fans standing in line while Y/N pulled her phone out to text her little sister for advice, she always gave the best advice simply because she was very blunt. 
y/n: i’ve made a colossal mistake
kiara: what did you do this time, don’t tell me you bought that dior bag, i already told you, you don’t need it 
y/n: no, i did not buy that bag, but now that you mention it 
kiara: no, you don’t need it, just tell me what you did, i swear i’m not covering for you if it’s something that mom and dad will kill you for 
y/n: honestly they might
kiara: you’re scaring me y/n/n, just tell me
y/n: i let quinn and zoya drag me to h’s show 
kiara: YOU DID WHAT!?! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!?
y/n: i know, i know, it’s bad 
kiara: no you buying the bag would have been bad, this is terrible, why would you agree to this, wasn’t the reason you two broke up because of his tour and now you’re at the show, y/n/n, even i can’t defend this 
y/n: fuck, i know kie, it’s just quinn and zoya were so excited, they bought me the tickets and like it’s all they’ve been looking forward to and i didn’t want to let them down and i’m definitely not ready to tell them about us, so i caved
kiara: you made your bed, you must now lie in it you dumbass
y/n: i’m so stressed kie, what if he sees me, what do i do
kiara: idk, this is new territory for, idk how to deal with exes who are also popstars
y/n: you’re not helping
kiara: okay, just relax, you ended it as friends right
y/n: isn’t that what everyone says
kiara: unfortunately you decided to do this and now you have to deal with it, yes it is gonna be awkward but just forget about your history with him for a night, you listened to the new album right
y/n: yeah, of course i did 
kiara: wait yeah you did, i have videos of you crying to it, i can’t believe you let me listen to it with you, your biggest mistake honestly, i’m using those videos for blackmail, thanks for that by the way
y/n: yeah, yeah, whatever, ok back to the topic, so i just pretend nothing happened between us
kiara: yeah, you clearly did like the album, so just enjoy the music, i don’t think it’ll be that bad
y/n: you’re right, i’m stressing myself out for no reason, i’ve got this, i’m gonna have fun
kiara: perfect, now what are you wearing it better be hot
y/n: hold on, i’ll send you a pic
kiara: ohhh, cute, remind me to borrow that next time you’re home
y/n: yeah not happening
kiara: whatever, anyways if harry does see you, at least you look hot, he won’t be able to take his eyes off of you
y/n: that’s the opposite of what i want 
kiara: what did we just discuss, we’re going to ignore your guys’ past for the night
y/n: yeah, yeah, i’ll keep you updated
kiara: perfect, i can’t wait to see how this trainwreck of a night is going to end 
y/n: you’re so
kiara: have fun, and remember tonight you’re just a fan 
Thankfully it wasn’t too long after her conversation with Kiara ended that it was time for general admission to head in, y/n/n just kept repeating the same thing in her head the entire time they walked to their spots, “you’re just a fan tonight, no history for tonight”. Because of their place in line, the trio were pretty close to the stage, they weren’t barricade, but they were in the 3rd or 4th row, and Y/N’s stomach dropped at how close the stage was, there was no way Harry wouldn’t see her. But then she kept on reminding herself, “I'm just a fan tonight”. 
Y/N had calmed herself down enough to enjoy the openers and she actually was having fun, maybe her friends were right, she did need to go out more. But as soon as the opening set was over and it was time for Harry to come on Y/N felt nauseous again, it wasn’t too late to fake a stomach bug and go home, but before she could make up her mind the crowd started screaming and she looked up to see the Love Band come from backstage. She could feel her eyes water from seeing her old friends, she really did love them, but she couldn’t bare to even think of anything Harry related after the break up, the only person she talked to was Glenn, but that was because Glenn had made it her mission to continue to be Y/N’s friend even after the break up and Y/N admired her persistence. 
Y/N shrunk back into her friends, hoping that none of them had seen her. She was trying to distract herself again repeating her mantra for the night when the crowd started screaming again, she had guessed that meant it was time for Harry to go on and when the Daydreaming intro started to play she quite literally felt her heart stop. 
Harry rose up from under the stage and Y/N fought to keep the tears at bay, she couldn’t start crying, the show had barely started. She stared at Harry, she really hadn’t even tried to look at a picture of him since they broke up, and as much as she hated to say it, he looked good, no he looked fantastic. She knew how much Harry loved performing, it gave him a special glow, that’s why she didn’t push for him to schedule less shows so they could make their relationship easier, she knew this was what he was born to do and she wasn’t going to get in the way of that. 
Once the initial shock of seeing him had passed, she started to dance to the music, she truly did love the music he made, it made her happy. Slowly she felt her worries melt away as she started to groove along to the music, Zoya and Quinn were having the time of their lives and their joy was infectious. 
Harry had this magical ability to truly capture the audience’s hearts and Y/N had fallen victim to it, she forgot about all her worries for the moment and just had fun. 
---
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Timeline: Part 9 - December 1-10 2017
For earlier timeline posts: click here or here.
December starts out strong with a daily bombardment of tons of stories about Meghan and/or Harry. Their PR backs off in the middle of the month, but only barely. Luckily for us, there is salvation: Meghan gets her first, second, third, and fourth dose of royal criticism.
Like I mentioned in the November 2017 timeline, this month sees Meghan pulling her support from Star Magazine, US Weekly, and E Online. People Magazine begins to earn her loyalty instead.
Ok, apparently I exceeded the limit of links that can be in a Tumblr post. the December edition is going to be split up into smaller segments. I've got a solution for how to fix this going forward, but it's going to take some time to figure out how to implement it.
12/1/2017: Fleet Street has a fever and the solution is more Harkle coverage.
Doria is papped at a laundromat in California.
Another story about Ninaki's photos of Meghan.
Can Kate cope with Meghan Mania?
Harry and Meghan make their first appearance together at a royal engagement.
Meghan and Pippa look alike.
Meghan and Harry's engagement is straight from Love Actually.
Meghan's old men's magazine photoshoot resurfaces.
Replica of Meghan's ring is an instant bestseller.
Meghan merches her outfit.
Meghan's 1993 Nick at Nite appearance reserfaces.
Meghan is Best Dressed of the Week.
Meghan's resume will seriously surprise us.
Anything Kate can do, Meghan can do better: First Royal Engagement edition.
Meghan's royal style vs her old Suits style.
Meghan leaks intent to visit US and Canada after the wedding in her first official foreign royal tour.
12/2/2017: Meghan's "draw your own box" essay goes viral again, as does her old Larry King Show interview. The Markles sell more pictures of Meghan, Meghan once tried to hook up with Ashley Cole but failed, and she makes a dig at William and Kate with a story about her and Harry holding hands.
12/3/2017: Meghan merches the Botswana camp again. The Times writes about Meghan's old instagram account and Bogart and leads speculation about bridesmaids and pageboys. Et tu, Times?!
Note: December 2 is a Saturday and December 3 is a Sunday. How nice Meghan's PR gave us a break for the weekend. But don't worry...the bombardment is back!
12/4/2017: Harkle Mania continues
About Meghan's ring
Meghan once auditioned for Shakira
All about Thomas Markle
Meghan leaks her expectations of marital bliss.
Meghan leaks that Harry has asked William to his best man. (Note, in Spare, Harry argues that this leak came from Kensington Palace but the source is US Weekly...Meghan's magazine.)
Wedding dress designer predictions
Meghan Markle Under Fire: Why is the Future Princess the Subject of So Much Scrutiny? (From E News, a Meghan affiliate)
Let the Misogynistic Public Shaming of Meghan Markle Now Commence (From Vogue, part of the CondeNast empire, to which People Magazine also belongs...Meghan affiliate)
Meghan Markle the garden influencer
Meghan's photoshoot charity work in Rwanda resurfaces.
What's with Prince Harry, Meghan Markle, and Bananas? (I kid you not, that's the title of the article.)
Will Meghan's wedding be like Pippas?
Meghan and Harry love bananas some more - they merch a banana cake.
12/5/2017: New day, same shit. Senior royals attend the Diplomatic Reception at Buckingham Palace but Meghan and Harry skip it to attend the Henry van Straubenzee Memorial Fund carol concert (pssh...like they were even invited to the Diplomatic Reception in the first place).
Daily Mail promotes Suits
Meghan's style inspiration is Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy.
Meghan merches clothes from when she was a teenager.
Harry appears on Top Gear.
Meet Meghan's celebrity doppelganger.
Meghan wants to wear the Spencer tiara for the wedding.
Meghan merches her engagement ring again.
Meghan the beauty icon.
12/6/2017: (le sigh...)
Who does Meghan curtsey to?
Meghan manifests The Lover's Knots Tiara for the wedding.
Nobody told Meghan she was pretty as a kid. (But did they ask her if she was OK?)
Meghan leaks about Ninaki's betrayal.
Harry attends the London Fire Brigade Carol Service alone, and so does his ex, Cressida. Meghan is upset and leaks that she is in LA visiting her mother.
Meghan merches Strathberry.
Can Meghan rewrite the royal fairytale?
Meghan the fashion influencer
12/7/2017: Another story about Misha Nonoo being the royal matchmaker. Thomas Markle does a papwalk. Meghan merches a pilates workout and is "incredibly moved" by how much people love her.
12/8/2017: The Crown Season 2 is released on Netflix
Meghan's old home video of her driving around LA resurfaces.
How Meghan won over Harry's friends.
Doria gets papped in LA.
Meghan leaks that she and Harry are staying with William and Kate at Anmer Hall for Sandringham Christmas.
Meghan leaks that William is planning Harry's stag party.
Meghan manifests for Selena Gomez to play her on The Crown.
World Vision promotes Meghan's charity work again.
All about Nottingham Cottage and Meghan's interior design style
Kate takes style inspiration from Meghan
12/9/2017: Meghan merches her Toronto rental. Harry quits smoking.
12/10/2017:
Meghan's old Tig article waxing poetic on Ivanka Trump resurfaces.
Harry goes to Germany with friends for a hunting party.
Doria does a papwalk.
Kensington Palace announces that Meghan will attend Sandringham Christmas and that she is expected to attend the Windsor Christmas luncheon at Buckingham Palace.
Old photos from a 2009 TV appearance Meghan did resurface.
William and Harry choose a sculptor for Diana's Kensington Palace statue.
Meghan hailed as a royal fashion asset.
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lavenderlectures · 1 year
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All The Lore Behind the Selena Gomez and Hailey Beiber Drama
Selena Gomez and Hailey Bieber have recently had some public beef online that has garnered a lot of attention. From fans commenting #teamselena under Hailey Bieber's posts, to straight-up death threats, there has been a lot that has been happening online. But, most fans are only aware of the recent beef between Hailey Bieber and Selena Gomez. The more we started digging, the more interesting it got. 
To understand the drama behind the drama we have to go all the way back to before Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber were ever a thing. Both Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber would drop hints and comments that they were interested in each other but didn't officially start dating for a while because Selena was two years older than Justin which would make her a “cougar” in her words. 
In late 2011 they finally confirmed that they were a couple and were spotted together multiple times. Over the next few years, Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber had an on-again, off-again relationship that was closely followed by their fans and the media. They broke up for the first time in November 2012, got back together in early 2013, and then were on and off until March 2018 when they broke up for good. 
While Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber were dating, Hailey was very obviously a fan of both of them. There are multiple tweets where she is talking about how cute Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber are together and how much she ships them. There are also DMs between her and a friend around 2013 where she talk about Harry Styles, Austin Mahone, and Justin Bieber. Her friend says that Hailey Bieber would find out which hotels the celebrities would be staying at and either stay at the hotels herself or eat there so that she could “accidentally” bump into them. This rumour is supported because she is seen in the background of multiple paparazzi videos of Justin Bieber around that time. 
Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez started writing songs about each other during their on-and-off period. All That Matters is one of Justin Bieber's songs that he confirmed was about Selena Gomez. He said that he wasn’t in a great place in his relationship and she was “all that mattered.” Justin Bieber also talked about Selena Gomez in interviews during this time saying “he had a lot of love for her” and that she was his first real love. Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez continued to be on and off after the interviews. 
Hailey Bieber went to Coachella with the Jenners in 2014. Hailey Bieber had unfollowed the Jenners after Coachella meaning that something had happened during that time. A few days later photos of Justin Bieber and Kendall Jenner hanging out and getting close at Coachella came out, and fans speculated that this was the reason for the unfollowing. Justin then confirmed that he had something that was “never serious” going on with Kendall Jenner. 
Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber got back together but it wasn’t long before rumors of Justin Bieber cheating on Selena Gomez with Kendall Jenner surfaced when videos of them going out to dinner in Paris after Paris Fashion week were posted online. Paparazzi videos of Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber also came out of the couple not being on speaking terms and boarding their plane separately. 
It was rumored that Hailey and Justin had something going on and soon Hailey Bieber was talking about her relationship with Justin Bieber during interviews saying that they weren’t “They were not an exclusive couple, and he’s going on tour so it will be casual.” But, everything got confusing after Justin Bieber went on tour because Selena Gomez was spotted at one of his concerts and Hailey Bieber was seen with Drake. Justin then posted a song that sounded like Drake Hotline Bling with lyrics talking about how a girl called “him” when she couldn’t reach Drake. Justin Bieber then unfollowed Hailey Bieber on Instagram. 
Photos then got leaked of Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez hugging on a boat, this was the last time they were seen together romantically. Two months later, Justin Bieber and Hailey Bieber announced their engagement. As soon as this announcement was made, Justin Bieber's mom took out his name from her Twitter bio, making fans speculate that she did not approve of Hailey Bieber. 
Recently, the situation started because Selena Gomez posted a photo of herself on vacation and people started fat shaming her. Selena Gomez has been in the public eye from a very young age, which means that every time her body changes people have something to say about it. After the photo was posted, Hailey Bieber and Kendall Jenner posted a TikTok using the sound “I’m not saying she deserved it, but God's timing is always right.” Fans took this as a response to Selena Gomez getting fat-shamed and started attacking Hailey Bieber and Kendall Jenner in the comments section. Hailey then deleted the TikTok and clarified that she wasn’t making fun of Selena Gomez, she just wanted to make a fun video with her friends. Other people on TikTok made videos talking about the situation and Selena Gomez commented on one of them saying, “It's ok! I don’t let these things get me down! Be nice to everyone! x.” Making people think that the TikTok was intentionally aimed at Selena Gomez.
Selena Gomez then made another Tiktok showing off her eyebrows that she had accidentally over-laminated and poked fun at herself. Shortly after that, Kylie Jenner posted a selfie on her Instagram story with the words, “This was an accident ?????” on her eyebrow. She then posted a screenshot of a FaceTime call between her and Hailey Bieber with just their eyebrows in the frame. This fueled the drama even more because the Jenners and Hailey Bieber were and are involved with Justin Bieber. 
Fans have also accused Hailey Bieber of copying Selena Gomez. There is a clip of Selena Gomez saying that she wishes more people knew her for her heart. Shortly after Hailey Bieber says that she wishes more people knew her heart. Selene Gomez also has a cooking show and then Hailey Bieber started a cooking show on YouTube. Hailey Bieber also got a tattoo of the letter ‘g’ in lowercase behind her ear, the exact same position and font as Selena Gomez. Justin Bieber had given Selena Gomez a ring with the letter ‘J’ and a star next to it, and Hailey Bieber got a tattoo on her finger of the letter ‘J’ with a star. There are also multiple photos of Hailey Bieber wearing the same clothing and jewellery that Selena Gomez has worn before.
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sassylav · 1 year
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I posted 181 times in 2022
That's 145 more posts than 2021!
25 posts created (14%)
156 posts reblogged (86%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@wannabemysuckerbaby
@lhharrylilpumpkin
@thequeerlibrarian
@londonharry
I tagged 30 of my posts in 2022
#harry styles - 10 posts
#hazza - 9 posts
#haz - 8 posts
#harry - 7 posts
#one direction - 7 posts
#louis tomlinson - 6 posts
#hs - 5 posts
#louis - 5 posts
#little mix - 3 posts
#birthday - 3 posts
Longest Tag: 28 characters
#music for a sushi restaurant
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
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Imagine you got backstage passes for a 1D concert and you take this photo. Hazza notices you. He points at you. Management happens to see you. Being the beautiful person you are they make you a model (How? Idk). Then Bam you're famous. Then you meet Hazza again. You thank him. You become good friends. Later he confesses his undying love for you. You start dating. Then a few years later he proposes. Then later you get married and live happily ever after.
Now go back to the first word.
14 notes - Posted January 3, 2022
#4
WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS
Sooooo there's a new disney movie called Encanto. It's gotten super famous! Maybe you know the song 'We don't talk about Bruno' from the movie.
So anywyas, the other day I was watching it and *gasp* there's this character called Camilo Madrigal. He can speak spanish, has curly hair, sorta dark skin and is kinda scrawny...sounds familiar?
HE JUST LOOKS SO MUCH LIKE LEO VALDEZ FROM PERCY JACKSON SDJNJSHGOIJS!
That's Camilo:
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And that's Leo:
See the full post
18 notes - Posted February 4, 2022
#3
Me before watching Encanto: Meh sounds cool
Me after watching Encanto: HOLY- THIS COULD BE A NEW FANDOM
39 notes - Posted February 1, 2022
#2
Books || H.S.
"Harry! Let's see what they've got!" (Y/N) pointed at a bookshop and dragged Harry along with her. Upon entering the bookshop Harry was hit with an eccentric sort of atmosphere. The place looked dusty from outside but inside, it was extremely different. It was also bigger than what he had expected. It almost looked like Ollivander's wand shop (Harry only knew about the wand shop because he heard (Y/N) talking about it).
(Y/N) approached the book keeper. It appeared she was reading a book probably from the shop itself. "Excuse me?" (Y/N) asked causing the lady to look up.
"Yes?"
"Do you have The Whisper of Fog?" The book keeper nodded and pointed at a nearby shelf. (Y/N) thanked the lady and went to look for the book with Harry right behind her. He smiled at the book keeper but she was back to reading her book.
Harry saw (Y/N) looking at a book which was atleast two shelves above her. When he got closer he could see her eyes skimming though the books on the shelf. When she found the book she was looking for, Whisper of Fog, she got on her tippy toes and tried to reach the book but no avail.
Harry chuckled to himself but decided to help her out. "Need a hand?"
"Yes please, I can't reach it." Harry got close to her. He easily grabbed the book she wanted and handed it to her. "Thanks. Are you going to get a book for yourself?"
Harry shook his head and spoke, "Nah, I'd rather spend time with you."
"Aw Haz, that's sweet, but I'm still buying this book for myself." (Y/N) could swear she saw Harry roll his eyes in response.
Time skip to bedtime
(Y/N) and Harry were cuddling in bed. (Y/N) was the little spoon and Harry was the big spoon. (Y/N) had gotten her book in bed and was reading it. Harry had his head resting close to her neck. He kissed the back of her neck. Just as she turned the page Harry spoke. "Wait, I was still reading that..."
"Were you?"
"Mhmm, " Harry muttered sleepily, "Why does the main character go back to the forest?"
"Keep reading, love. It's on the same page.
46 notes - Posted January 2, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Okay so imagine this: two possible lovers are forced to publically not be together. One of them played a movie character years ago in a school play. Then years after that incident their "possible" s/o dresses up as that character for Halloween in front of the eNTiRE wORLd. THEY ARE GIVING HINTS, RIGHT?! YES HARRY AND LOUIS I'M LOOKING AT YOU TWO
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53 notes - Posted November 15, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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erodasfishtacos · 3 years
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Not Your Charity Case
prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?
word count: 6.2k 
warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt
other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing
Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)
+++
You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.
Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.
It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.
Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.
When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.
When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.
You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.
From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.
The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”
You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.
He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.
You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”
The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”
You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.
It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.
You sign, “What are you trying to order?”
He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.
He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”
You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”
The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.
You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.
The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.
“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.
“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.
+++
Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.
With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”
You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”
His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”
“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.
Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.
You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.
His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.
Well fuck him then.
***
You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.
It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.
You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.
As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.
Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.
After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”
You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.
Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.
You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.
A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.
“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.
He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.
You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.
You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”
There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”
Your brows furrow, “I did.”
“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.
You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”
“What do you need?”
He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.
You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow. 
***
Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.
You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.
You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.
When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.
***
The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.
‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’
After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.
You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.
***
You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.
After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.
Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.
The reply text comes shortly after
Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.
Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!
I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.
You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.
I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?
Sounds great. Thank you again x
Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?
***
He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.
You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.
You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”
He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.
You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.
He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.
“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.
The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.
“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek. 
Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.
It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.
Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.
Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”
Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.
The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.
Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.
“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.
His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.
He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.
He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”
You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.
“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.
“Yes.”
“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison  to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.
He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”
You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”
“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”
“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.
“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.
***
The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.
“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.
You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.
A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”
“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.
The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.
Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.
You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”
Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”
“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.
Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.” 
Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.
“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.
You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.
“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.
“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.” 
Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.
Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.
***
Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.
“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.
“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.
“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”
“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.
“I’m not very trusting of people.”
You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”
“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.
“One more chance, Styles.”
Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’
***
It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.
You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.
Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”
You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”
He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.
You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”
The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.
He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.
The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.
“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.
***
The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.
Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’
You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.
Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all. 
He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **
You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.
Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.
Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.
Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.
You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.
The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”
Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.
Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”
“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.
He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.
You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.
Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.
His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”
“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb
His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”
**
You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.
You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.
With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.
Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.
Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.
“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.
You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”
“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.
It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.
You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.
“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.
“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.
“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.
“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.
“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.
Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.
It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.
You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.
Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.
When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.
Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”
Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”
Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.” 
You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.
It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.
All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.
He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.
Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.
Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”
You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”
He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.
So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.
Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.
Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.
Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”
Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”
Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”
Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.
You wanted everything from him.
“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.
“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.
“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.
You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.
You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.
He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.
His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.
“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.
You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.
As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.
When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”
You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.
His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.
Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.
Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.
Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.
Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound. 
You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.
You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.
You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”
With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.
“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.
“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.
You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.
Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.
Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.
When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”
You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.
You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”
“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.
“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.
And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.
Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.
When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.
Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.
It takes you a moment - then it hits you.
Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.
You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.
When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.
The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.
---
Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.
“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.
“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.
“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.
“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.
“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.
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missluckycharms · 3 years
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You, Me and Harry make three. Part One.
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Summary: Joey, Izzy and Harry are in a poly relationship. They're head over heels for one another and they can't seem to keep their hands off each another, even when they really need to.
Harry is the Harry Styles, the man who is known for being so open and lovable. He's nervous to let the world see his girls, what would his fans think If he was dating two girls at the same time? And they all shared the one bed and home? He doesn't want to know, he wants them all to himself.
This small story follows the three and their rendezvous together behind the scenes.
Masterlist.
Warnings: Switch!Harry, Mommy kink, slight Daddy kink, FxFxM threesome, fingering, oral sex f+m receiving, Male + Female penetrative sex, Female + Female sex, spanking, choking, hair pulling, sneaking around (?) masturbation and mentions of it, degradation kink, praise kink, dirty talking, anal play, biting, polyamorous relationship.
Warnings apply to both first and second part!
Word count: 3.6k words.
A/N: There will be a part two, keep your eyes out for it. I also envision the women with Blonde and Brown hair, but you can apply any hair colour you want to this scenario, I just wanted to give a description to people who find it hard to imagine people :)
Adrenaline.
It's rushing through Harry's veins as he finishes his last concert of his first ever world tour. His body covered in sweat from singing Kiwi and total of three times and his suit jacket is for a fact dripping from all the dancing he did, his body isn't exhausted, no, it's hyped up and he could go out and perform again if he could.
It's a bittersweet moment ending the tour he thinks, on one hand he has more time to himself, more time for friends and family but on the other hand he doesn't get to do what he loves every night for at least another year, which is perform for thousands of people.
The crew is cheering and slapping him on the back as he walks off, the band following him as they all congratulate one another on completing the whole tour. There's tears, tight hugs and even a champagne bottle popped by Mitch, for someone who seems emotionless he was the most emotional one amongst them all. He basically cried into his champagne flute.
Harry pulls himself away from the crew celebration after an hour or two, his phone buzzing in his back pocket non stop as he tried to converse and have a fair well party with his whole crew — he knew exactly who was texting him, and they won't be happy he isn't responding like he usually does.
His phone is filled with messages, some from Joey and some from Izzy and a few more in the group chat they all have together. Harry is scrolling through them all as he sits in the back of the car on the way to their hotel room. He lets out a shaky breath when he sees two photos — one of Izzy wearing a bright pink lingerie set, her dark hair all around her while Joey wears a dark cobalt blue set, her platinum blonde hair vibrant against the lace.
Izzy is laying down as Joey looks at the camera between her legs, the picture being from Izzy's perspective while the second photo is similar, but this time Izzy's panties are off and Joey's head is nuzzled into her pussy.
If anyone knew what Harry Styles was hiding behind the scenes they would be shocked, he's hiding two beautiful women who are in plain sight for all his fans to see, the pair helping out the crew and makeup department on tours while only the three of them know what they do behind closed doors. It's somewhat thrilling to have this secret, it's spurs them on more and even makes them act out and fuck one another in public places, such as Harry's dressing room or even his tour bus when all the rest of the band is asleep — they all seem to get off on their little dirty secret.
Harry never wanted to hide his girls, he feels guilty for doing so. But to protect them and himself from the hate and backlash they would get for this, he settled on keeping them himself only. Sure, there's times where they'd want to go to a restaurant, hold hands all together and feed one another dessert like couple do, but they have to settle on a professional looking dinner, each spread around the table with a large gap between them all as they try and keep their hands away from one another, cameras flashing outside and update accounts flashing the images labelling Harry to be at a business dinner.
It does take a toll on them, some nights they all cry together and hold one another when one of them has to leave and see family, they all aren't ready to tell their families so when one leaves it's like something is ripped from them, it's like they're missing a piece of themselves. Harry is the one who's away a lot, giving the media to calm down on the speculations that Harry is dating one of them — it's mainly always Joey because she's blonde and seen as "Harry's type" because of that, both of his girls are his type.
They take small vacations together, the three of them locked away in a villa in Italy or even in Spain, their own private space to lounge by the pool together or even show affection to one another more openly around the foreign country — but then cameras show up snd Harry is immediately hurrying the girls inside as he pays off the paparazzi to not leak the photos.
It's tiring, they're all exhausted from hiding, but it's what they have to do.
Harry chuckles darkly as he looks at the photos, his hand sliding down to palm himself through his suit pants as he types out a message with one hand, a lazy smile on his face as the driver doesn't suspect a thing.
Harry: told you both to wait, you know what happens when you disobey me, my girls.
It's not long after he sent the message that he's parked outside the hotel, the driver opening his door as a security guard walks out and helps Harry into the hotel under all the preying eyes of fans and paparazzis who seem to love blinding him every second with their flashes and asking him ridiculous personal questions that you wouldn't even ask someone who is on trial.
His security guard walks him as far as the elevator, Harry saying he can do the rest by himself — but in reality he didn't want anyone but him to hear the sweet little moans that are probably coming from his suite right now.
"Couldn't even wait two hours for Daddy, huh?" He says deeply walking into the room, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up as the two girls both look at him on the bed, Izzy nearly passing out from pleasure as Joey smiles evilly from where she's sat between Izzy's legs.
Izzy makes grabby hands at Harry which he immediately melts at the sight, she's the more submissive one in the relationship, leaving Harry and Joey to be the more dominant ones, and when Harry is submissive it's usually Joey fucking Izzy before him as he watches.
"Feeling good pup?" He asks Izzy brushing a strand of her hair from her face, her eyes glazed over and mouth slight parted as Joey teases her, sucking and nipping at her clit as Harry rests beside them both.
"Yes Daddy" Izzy says softly, licking the thumb that Harry brushes over her bottom lip, he slowly pushes it into her mouth as she takes it in with a small whine and suckling noises are heard from her pretty mouth.
"That's a good girl. You enjoying yourself down there?" He asks Joey more sternly, she loves when he's stern with her, while Izzy loves it when he dotes on her.
"Mmh yeah, such a pretty tasting pussy" she teases him, keeping her eyes on his as she licks a big stripe up Izzy's centre, Harry's cock twitching in his pants at the sight as Izzy keeps sucking on his thumb.
"Hope you've had your fun puppies, because you both know how Daddy hates it when you disobey him" he says with a small laugh, the two girls looking at him as he removes himself from the bed, standing tall as he strips down to his boxers.
"C'mere my girls, wanna feel both of you suck my cock" he says palming himself as he watches Izzy cum on Joey's tongue before they both jump off the bed and into their knees.
"I'm only obeying because tonight is your night, prepare for you to lose all control tomorrow, Daddy" Joey says, Harry already knowing she means what she says as he smiles at her.
"I'll look forward to it Jo, darling" is all he says as he runs both of his hands through each of their hairs, one hand on Joey's head with her hair wrapped around his arm, as the other has Izzy's hair wrapped around it, guiding them both to his clothed cock.
"Take me out, go on, know you both missed Daddy's cock" he moans out when they both palm him through his underwear, their hands immediately pulling down his boxers as he kicks them off, standing tall as both girls look up at him innocently through their eyelashes.
They both flatten their tongues and run them up either side of his cock, Harry immediately tightening his grip on their hairs and throwing is head back a little as he grunts under his breathe at the feeling. They both suck the head of his cock, their tongues in each other's mouths a little as they dance along the slit collecting his pre cum as he nearly buckles under the feeling and view he has of his girls.
"That's it, suck Daddy's cock" he breaths out through moans, his eyes fighting to stay open so he can watch every move his girls make.
The room is filled with heavy grunts and moans, small whines and sucking sounds from them all, Harry throwing his head back as he curses loudly into the air, Joey and Izzy working on his cock fast and messily just how he likes it. He's nearly scent into a frenzy when Izzy focus's on his head and pumps the rest in her hand while Joey sucks his balls into her mouth, dribbling and moaning around them which vibrates through Harry's body sending shivers all over and erupting goosebumps on his skin.
"Need to fuck you both now, onto the bed" he says sternly, taking their heads away as they both whine and try to get back onto him. Gentle slaps to their cheeks cause both girls to scurry over onto the bed, kneeling down and watching as Harry rests onto the bed, back against the head board as he begins to stroke himself.
"Izzy, do you wanna ride Daddy first? Yeah?" He asks and he chuckles lighty when Izzy nods in excitement, crawling onto his lap as he welcomes her into his embrace.
"Joey, sit on my face, gonna eat that pretty cunt of yours while I fuck our darling little Izzy" Joey smiles darkly at this, both of them looking at Izzy who's smiling cheekily against Harry's chest, her petite frame lost in his broad one.
Harry lays completely on his back, Joey coming to sit down on his face, as Izzy teases herself with the head of his cock. Joey faces Izzy, their mouths immediately catching in a sloppy kiss as Harry helps Izzy slide himself into her. She doesn't move, she grinds down a little as Joey's tongue explores her mouth, her tattoo hand holding the petite girls face as Harry holds onto Joey's plush thighs, his face nearly being smothered but he loves it — he wants to be smothered by her thighs always.
"Look at you Izzy baby, taking me all, such a good girl for me" Harry says lowly, looking at Izzy from between Joey's legs as Izzy begins to move, Harry immediately grabbing Joey's thighs and sitting her flush onto his face, his nose resting on her tightest hole as his tongue flicks and sucks at her pussy.
"Ride Daddy's cock Iz, fuck yourself until you cum like a good girl" Joey whispers to Izzy, her hand holding the girl by the jaw as she speaks to her, their lips inches apart as Izzy falls apart on Harry, the feeling sending her into oblivion as she bounces harder and faster, erupting guttural moans from Harry.
"Is he making you feel good Jo?" Izzy asks, her voice a slight tremble as she moans loudly watching as Joey grinds herself down onto Harry's tongue with force.
"Yeah, but you're making him feel so much better baby, hear him? Hear him moan into my pussy because of the work you're doing?" Joey asks as Izzy smiles lazily at her, her words making her go faster and faster on Harry's cock which ends in him meeting her bounces with thrusts of his own.
"That's it, fuck her Daddy, fuck her so good" Joey moans out loudly, grabbing Izzy before she crashes down onto Harry, holding the girl in her arms as Harry fucks up into her with all his strength.
"Fuck, yes right there Daddy" Joey moans out, Harry fucking his tongue into her while he fucks Izzy hard, the two girls holding onto one another as Harry pleases them both.
It's not long before they both cum with screams of his name and a mixture of Daddy between them all, Joey being the loudest as Izzy is barely able to speak or keep her eyes open over how fucked she is.
"Feeling okay puppy?" Harry asks when Izzy is laid out on his chest, his cock slipped out of her as she comes down from her high, Joey beside him as they both cradle Izzy and help her calm down.
"M'okay, just tired Daddy" she slurs out, the two helping her lay down onto the bed, Joey laying beside her as Harry positions himself on top of a smiling Joey.
Izzy turns her head to watch the two, Harry immediately bending down to kiss her softly as Joey kisses Harry's jawline and runs her hands over his bare chest lightly, her fingers playing with his dangling necklaces as her legs wrap around his waist, ankles locking behind him.
"My two pretty girls, all fucked out" Harry whispers as Joey pushes her hips up to him, signalling she's ready as he pecks Izzy's face before pulling away and focusing back down on Joey.
"Eager little thing aren't you? Such a slut for Daddy" he says to her, their lips inches apart as Izzy gasps at his language, Joey smirking and enjoying every last word that drips from his mouth towards her.
"You're also a slut for me Daddy, don't lie" she fires back, Harry shaking his head as he lines himself up with her pussy.
"Right now, you're my little slut, take it all for me, yeah?" He says kissing her chest as he pushes himself in, her moans immediately filling the room as Izzy runs her fingers over the lace bralette on Joey's skin, her head right next hers as they both look up at Harry.
"Come on Daddy, fuck me like a whore" Joey whines out as Harry begins to pound into her harshly, his balls hitting her ass as she sets a fast pace that has Joey's eyes rolling into the back of her head.
"You're going to hard Daddy, gonna hurt Jo" Izzy says nearly crying, Harry immediately bringing a hand to her face and cradling it as the other cradles the back of Joey's pulling her hair lightly.
"She likes it hard baby, she likes Daddy to wreck her pussy and call her his little slut" he says softly and calmly to Izzy who pouts before pecking his lips.
"Harder Daddy, please" Joey moans out, Harry immediately thrusting faster and faster as he holds both of his girls in his arms, Joey's legs wrapped around him as Izzy pecks his bicep every now and then with small giggles.
"Yeah? Want it harder, does my little slut want it harder? Does she want me to fucking wreck her and make her unable to walk for days?" He asks sinisterly as Joey babbles and moans under him, her words slurred and her eyes leaking tears at the intense pleasure she's feeling.
"Wreck my pussy Daddy, fucking ruin me, yes!" She screams out when Harry hits her spot over and over again, Izzy's small fingers now rubbing circles over her clit as the two of them coax her towards an orgasm, which hits her hard and fast.
"C'mere, wanna kiss you both before I cum" he moans out, his hips slowly down as his two girls push their heads together so Harry can bend down and take both of their mouths at the same time, their tongues everywhere as they all moan and grab onto one another.
"Come on Daddy, cum for us" they both moan out, looking up as Harry kneels on the bed over the two of them, their hands on their boobs pushing them up as he strokes himself fast, his eyes rolling back and his body covered in sweat.
"Gonna look so pretty painted in my cum, my two pretty babies all fucked out beneath me" he moans out, their tongues out flat as he finally cums, spirts and ropes of his cum coat their chests and some splashes up onto their tongues as they swallow it greedily, their fingers rubbing through his cum painting them more as Harry watches in awe, completely spent.
"I love you both, so much" he says smiling at them, their faces glowing and their own smiles on their faces as they look at him like he's the best thing in their worlds — which he is.
"We love you too H, right Iz?" Joey asks Izzy who's trying to fight off sleep, her small nod and smile is enough for Harry as he coos over how cute she looks, her cheeks blushing at his complements as Joey kisses her face all over making her giggle out, Harry kissing Joey's as they all attack one another with kisses gently with laughs in between.
"Think it's time for a bath, huh?" Joey laughs out as Harry agrees, Izzy laughing also as they both lay next to one another covered in Harry's release.
"Don't move, I'll be back" Harry says, the pair of girls whistling and cheering him on as he runs to the bathroom butt ass naked, his laugh loud as he wets two wash cloths with warm water.
"Are you two ever gonna not laugh at my ass?" He asks kneeling over them again, one hand clutching a cloth and washing Izzy while the other washes Joey and gets rid of his cum from their skin.
"It's funny! It's so soft and squishy looking when it jiggles!" Izzy laughs out, Joey beside her nearly snorting as she laughs along, Harry laughing and shaking his head as he throws the cloths into a laundry bin.
"You have a cute butt Mr Styles" Joey says kissing his nose as he flops his body down onto them, one of their legs resting on his waist as he rests his head between their breasts, both of their fingers running through his hair.
"We can't stay like this" Joey is the first to speak up in a few minutes, sleep nearly taking over them all before she realises they need to clean up and get ready for bed — Izzy needs to do her skincare routine while Harry needs to drink his nightly cup of tea.
"Yeah, yeah. I know. Come on, bath time" Harry groans, grabbing his boxers and sliding them back on to avoid anymore comments on his bare ass, the two girls avoid eye contact with him as they bite back their laughs looking at one another.
"I can hear you both laughing!"
"We aren't laughing!"
"Yes you are!"
"Nope!"
The three of them have been dating for almost a year now, everyday bringing something new but their love for one another grows by the second. Harry cherishes small moments with them, heck, he cherishes all moments with them. When they step outside together Harry addresses them as part of his crew to not raise any suspicion. But all he wants to do is scream at the top of his lungs that these two beautiful women are his girlfriends.
Just as Harry is filling the bath, adding Izzy's favourite bath bomb and setting out Joey's favourite body wash for her, a shout and a hard knocking is heard from behind the front door to the suite, causing the two girls laughs and conversation to stop.
They look at him as he holds up a finger to his lips, shushing them both as they nod watching as he heads for the door. He opens it slowly, only revealing his head. Jeff stands outside, his hand running through his hair as he jumps when Harry opens the door.
"There's fans outside, they won't leave until you come out. Please just walk out and show your face or something" Jeff says nearly passing out with anxiety, his hands shaking from how nervous he was being bombarded with the fans who are lined up outside the hotel at nearly midnight.
"Okay, I'll be down in a few" Harry sighs, knowing guilt will eat him alive if he doesn't see his fans, but he'll also feel guilty letting the girls bathe alone and be without him for awhile again.
"We heard, go down to them. We'll have a bath and you" Joey says walking over to Harry, Izzy beside her as they hold hands, Izzy shorter than the two as she looks at them softly. "Can bring us all up some wine when you're coming back up, sound good?" Joey finishes as Harry smiles looking at them both.
"Yes Ma'am's"
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double-hoe-seven · 3 years
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AFC Richmond as boyfriends
Here’s a lil headcanon collection of our favorite himbos as boyfriends.
I did it again for the staff (: AFC Richmond Staff as partners
A/N: Definitely didn’t put everyone but these were my top ones and it’s 2 AM so imma leave it here.
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Sam Obisanya
The absolute sweetest man you have ever met
Such a softie, very concerned about making sure you’re happy and comfortable with whatever choices you make together.
He always picks the most random times to surprise you with things; showing up at your work randomly for lunch or with coffee/tea, random little souvenirs from his away games.
He’s always putting himself second and sometimes you have to remind him “hey, babe, you can do things for yourself, you deserve nice things too.”
Just, compliments galore with him. He’ll always find a way to compliment you on something.
The most cuddly person ever, he loves public affection (hand holding, piggy backing, hugging, kissing if it’s not raunchy, etc), he really just likes showing you off because he feels like the luckiest man in the world to have you.
He takes his time with your relationship, letting it bloom and grow at it’s own pace.
There aren’t many fights between you, hardly ever, the last “fight” you had was because you couldn’t unanimously decide which dog to rescue. The solution? You adopted both, now you share a one-eyed Jack Russell Terrier named Starro and a three legged German Shepherd puppy named Harry (Pawter. He was so proud at his pun when he showed you the then 3-month old puppy.)
Again, just the sweetest, more romantic man you’ve ever met and ever will meet.
thesexisgoodtoo. hesaverygentleandgivinglover
Isaac McAdoo
Man’s stubborn.
I mean it, he is as stubborn as a mule.
I’M DEAD SERIOUS, he once pouted for 5 days when you accidentally ate the last Rolo in the flat.
But he’s also romantic in a sort of rugged way?
He won’t go shopping with you but he knows what colors look best on you, he knows what styles look good on you, and he has your sizes and shades memorized.
Bear.
Mr. sometimes-crank-teddy-bear over here.
He’ll say he doesn’t want something but he will eat half of your food if given the chance. If you step away from your food to get a drink or something, there will be a good part mission when you get back.
Its a tradition to go on a date the morning of a game, and snuggle up with a movie after the game.
You have had more than a few drunk texts from him, all of them equally funny and full of sexual innuendos.
You don’t address his Rolo addiction. It could be something much worse anyway.
Richard Montlaur
So many visits to the goat farm he was raised on!
He really has to drag you back to London after visiting his parents because you don’t want to leave all the precious goats (and you and his parents get along famously).
You spend alternating holidays with each others families (except for Bastille day, you always spend that either together or with his family.)
There are always roses in your shared flat.
It’s a constant battle over his facial hair.
He has a grudge against the way the English make French pastries.
He has a habit of falling asleep on the couch or in uncomfortable positions and then wondering why his back or neck hurts.
Little spoon.
He’s teaching you French.
This man is a smooth operator, master at flirtation and romance. He’s good at planning romantic dates and outtings.
Dani Rojas
You 100% believe his mom when she says he was born caffeinated.
One of your first dates was a Mumford and Sons concert which was an interesting experience.
Soft boi hours with him. He’s a lil puppy dog.
Does this man ever sleep? Rarely.
He rises with the son and wants to get the day started immediately but he’s mostly letting you sleep in now.
He LOVES trying new things, exploring new places, generally having new experiences.
His absolute favorite thing to do when he’s not training is playing football (or any game, really) with the kids in your neighborhood. They all love him.
He’s a sweet boyfriend, not as sweet as Sam but he’s a close second.
You alternate who plans date night. You split the chores 50/50 but divvy it up if one of you is sick or has more work to do.
There’s so much alcohol in your flat its unreal.
You usually go to sleep before him but he has a bad habit of throwing himself into bed and partially waking you.
He makes the best breakfast most mornings.
And don’t forget the trips back home to visit his family in Guadalajara.
After a long day of training, he loves just laying down with his head on your lap while you run your fingers through his hair.
Jamie Tartt (Season 1)
FUCK NO
Jamie Tartt (Season 2)
On your first date you got drunk and bonded over shitty fathers.
Not that either of you really remembered the next day, you were both too hungover to immediately recall the night.
His love language is kind words.
At the start he needed a lot of reassuring that you did care about him for who he was, warts and all.
He’s slightly awkward when it comes to romantic gestures so most of the date planning falls on you don’t mind.
He still has some high maintenance behavior but he’s working on it and you’re proud of how far he’s come from the prick he used to be.
Your fights are usually over petty shit like where to eat for dinner or what movie to go see.
He will not hesitate to buy your feminine products for you. He knows your preferred brands and sizes and what treats you like when its that time.
He’s good at those rigged carnival games, the many little stuffed animals in your closet can attest to that.
He talks in his sleep. It’s all nonsense.
He has a soft spot for the neighbor’s cat (and cats in general).
Roy Kent
Rugged.
He’s great to snuggle up to.
The man is honest to boot. He doesn’t sugar coat anything at all.
10/10 times he will go down on you if asked. He’s a giver.
He is the heaviest sleeper in the world. You don’t know why he bothers setting alarms.
Phoebe has a room at your flat and spends so much time with you both.
Many nights have been spent reading different books on the couch together.
He has to clean the drains since 75% of it is his.
Fuck is a very versatile word in your home, used daily.
Not the most romantic man alive but he has his moments.
Date nights are usually relaxed and proper but sometimes you can make the old man have a little fun.
He growls at least a dozen times a day, it’s his main response.
Jan Maas
My beloved
My sweet, beloved Jan who can’t/won’t use a filter to save his life.
He’s blunt in everything and sometimes it makes you want to slap him.
Jan is still getting used to English ways and mannerisms.
He has good intentions but sometimes needs a little help with wording.
He likes going on Aquarium dates.
The more tired he is, the clingier he is and it’s too cute.
Once after a game he plopped onto the couch next to you and basically tried to curl up in your lap.
He can make amazing pancakes.
Thats it though.
You’ll do most of the cooking if you value living in a flat that’s not on fire.
He’s a sweetheart though.
Mostly good intentions though.
Doesn’t mind nudity and had to quickly be reined in by the team. Not at home though.
At home he can easily be found lounging in boxers and a t-shirt while he sips coffee.
He knows what he’s doing.
Tag Team: @bdffkierenwalker​
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crowdedimagines · 3 years
Text
Familiar Love - Harry Styles
harry and y/n have a hard time staying out of each other’s arms, not that there’s a place they’d rather be Famous!Y/n
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“Well well well.” Harry grins, opening his door wider to his home for me. 
“Why are you acting all surprised? You invited me here.” I get on my toes to steal a fast peck from him as I walk by. I walk into the living room I have grown very familiar with over the years. Harry’s London home never changes, his one taste of consistency.  
“Of course I did, we’re both in London at the same time.” 
“I know.” I roll my eyes, backing up the stairs to his room. He matches my steps evenly, pacing us like predator and prey. I slide my jacket off my shoulder, ditching it for the floor. His eyes never leave mine. If I didn’t know this house so well, I would be on my ass by now. 
“It’s been a while since this has worked out.” He presses a stolen kiss to my cheek, then another and another, “I’ve missed you.” 
“Missed me or a muse?” I bite down lightly on his earlobe, he backs me into his bedroom finally. 
“Always miss you.” 
“That’s right, you are pretty obsessed with me.” I smirk. 
“M’not obsessed with you.” He defends, finally pulling his face away from my neck. 
“Well your discography would beg to differ.” 
“Shh.” He works on the spot he knows would normally occupy my mind enough that I couldn’t banter. The spot just below my ear where my neck and jaw meet. 
“Temporary Fix, Perfect, Change Your Ticket-”
“Alright alright” Harry rolls his eyes, dimples showing up on his cheeks while he fights a smile.
“-and that’s not even counting your solo career” I tease, letting him back me onto his bed. “Only Angel, She-” 
“You’re such an ass sometimes.” He shakes his head, as if in disbelief, but his smile only grows wider. 
“What?” I scoff feigning shock, “You love my ass.” He presses a kiss to my collarbone. 
“Yes, I do. Now shut up so I can love on you for the first time in eight months.” 
-     -     -  
Harry and I were the worst and best things to ever happen to each other. We met when we were too young. My career had just started, I had a singular album to my name and was lucky to open for any band that was on a tour. Harry was a couple years into One Direction by the time we met. 
It was on a red carpet, thankfully not my first, but my first time being on the carpet for an award show that I actually had a nomination for. This was huge for me. My album had done well, but never expected a recognition like this. 
I met Niall before I met Harry. I had bumped into him walking in and he complimented my music, even claiming one of his mates ‘couldn’t get enough of it’. When he said that I wasn’t expecting him to walk me over to meet the rest of the band. Harry had been the ‘mate’ Niall had been referring to. 
I lost that night, to Ariana Grande, who in my own opinion deserved it more than me. That night didn’t feel like a loss though, because I got Harry out of it. We quickly became friends, texting, calling, facetiming any time we got the opportunity. One Direction was touring on a constant cycle, and I had just finished mine. I was in the process of writing my sophomore album, Harry flew me out and I ended up staying for the rest of the tour. 
It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that we started dating, the calls and giddy smiles were enough already to clue in everyone around us. I was able to get a glimpse at the world he lived in with his stardom, and soak in every second he wasn’t on stage. It didn’t take long for fans and the public to catch on. A few too many paparazzi pictures at each concert venue to avoid. 
Both of our managements allowed us to openly date, officially coming out to everyone with PDA and everything. It was amazing. I flew back home to Los Angeles to record my second album and before I could blink I was touring it. 
Things got hard for Harry and I at that point, we could never manage to be in the same city, or get time off to visit the other. My name was quickly becoming a household one, and One Direction had yet to ever even stall in popularity. 
It broke us both completely that after three happy years together, we had to call it quits. Neither of us were ready to give up our lives and it was no longer working to never see each other. We both needed to feel loved, and on opposite ends of the planet it wasn’t enough anymore. It was only a few months after our split that One Direction went on hiatus. 
Harry and I remained close. Some would say too close. It started with just being friendly whenever we saw each other at events or things with mutual events. It took one slip up that sent us back into each other’s arms. It was a New Year's party, we agreed to be with each other, because we didn’t have anyone else to kiss at midnight. 
Once you get a taste for someone you never stopped loving, it gets pretty hard to stop. So that’s how it all began. Harry and I decided to see each other, date, love, fuck, anytime we both happened to be in the same city. It didn’t happen as often as you would think. We both still had home across the world, and varying tour schedules. We both had on and off again partners, that then the deal would be off, but neither of our partners were ever in the picture for very long. For years it went on like this. It was heartbreak all over again though, once we knew that someone had to leave. 
-     -     -
“Well, that was fun! It’s been a while, Styles.” I let out a sigh to try and gain back my breath. We practically just ran a marathon. Maybe two. He does the same, a grin plastered to his face. 
“Too long.” He tilts his head to press a kiss to my bare shoulder. 
“Well I do believe a plane works two ways.” I turn on my side to face him, my head resting in my palm. 
“Mmm, I’ve been stuck in the studio. I’ve been working on new stuff.” 
“Ooh, a new album perhaps?” 
“Yeah, it’s been a whole process trying to get all my thoughts out and sorted.” He clears his throat. 
“So why not go to Jamaica like you did for your first? A new environment that you can just throw yourself into it.” I question. 
“I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like that for me. I did that because it was the first time I was doing music without One Direction. This time it’s a little more on me and how I feel.” 
We catch up for nearly an hour before we both feel gross from our previous activity and decide to take a shower. Together obviously. 
“Mum and Gem are coming over for brunch tomorrow.” He states. 
“Hmm?” I turn away from the shower head to face him again. 
“I think they’re going to be here close to 10:00.” 
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No!” He places a hand on my hip, trapping me between him and the cool tile on the walls. “Never.” 
“So what do you want?” I ask, tilting my head up to fully look at him. To read every expression that crosses his face as the water pours over both of us. 
“I want you to stay. Have brunch with us.” 
“Are you sure?” I ask, pressing a kiss to his peck. 
“Yeah, if you can.”
“My fitting isn’t until 2:00 so that should give me plenty of time.” I smile, “Are you sure they aren’t going to think it’s weird that I’m there?” 
“They won’t think it’s weird. They’ll both be thrilled to see you. I swear everytime I pick up the phone they’re asking me how you’re doing.” 
“That’s funny considering how often that Gemma texts me.” I smile. 
“So you’ll stay for brunch?” 
“Mhm.” I pull him down to my height for a kiss. 
-     -     - 
“Well if it isn’t the one that got away.” Anne teases as she pulls me in for a tight hug. 
“Fuck-” Harry sighs, letting out air as if he took an actual physical hit. 
“Hi, Anne.” I laugh. 
“You just get more and more beautiful every-time I see you.” She holds my face in her hands and she studies me closely. Over the years Anne and I have only grown to be more close, even though I am no longer dating her son she still treats me as family which I can’t help but love her for. 
“Let me give her a hug!” Gemma pushes her way in and pulls me in tight against her chest. 
“Gem!” I grin. 
Harry and Anne walk into the kitchen together with Gemma and I following, arm in arm. I remember this from years ago. The Styles family would like to make brunches together every couple of weeks when they could. 
Obviously if Harry was touring or over in the States they couldn’t, but when they could they make the most of it. Everything is made from scratch, together. Nothing is decided until everyone gets there that morning. 
“How do we feel about waffles?” Gemma asks. 
“And eggs.” Harry adds. 
“And bacon.” Anne adds. 
Everyone turns to me waiting for my request. 
“And fresh fruit.” I smile. 
We all get to work and quickly become a well oiled machine. Them it’s not too surprising due to them doing this over the years, but I have to say I am able to jump in with ease. 
I cut up various fruits arranging them as beautifully as I can. A vibrant display of colors on the platter. 
“Excuse me, love.” He presses a kiss to my temple, a steadying hand at my waist as he reaches for a knife from the island. 
I prepare everyone’s drinks around the table as well considering my task went the quickest. Shortly, everyone joins me and we dig in. Everything tastes immaculate. 
We dive into conversation, the table never getting quiet for a second. Something I love so much about this family. There’s always something to be said.
“Well, I actually should be going it’s one o clock now, and I still need to drive to the other side of town.” I pick up my plate from the table. We’ve all been done eating for a while now, but the conversation kept us at the table. 
“Where are you off to?” Anne asks. 
“She’s got a fitting with Gucci.” Harry grins. 
“Wipe that smug little grin off your face.” I smack his shoulder lightly. 
“Gucci?” Gemma grins even wider than Harry did. 
“I am going to be the new face to the brand.” I smile, feeling pink raise up on my cheeks.
“For the whole company?” Gemma cheers. 
I simply nod as I grab a few other plates off of the table as I go. 
“Can I come with you?” Gemma asks, the two Styles siblings following my into the kitchen. 
“Why didn’t you act like this when I modeled for Gucci?” Harry asks, his jealous side coming out.
“Harry, you got a cologne, but she’s getting the whole company!” She huffs, “Do you know what cool clothes she’s going to be trying one?”
“I’m not getting the company!” I roll my eyes, putting the dishes in the wash. 
“You didn’t answer the question.” Gemma smirks. 
“Yes, Gem.” I laugh, “As long as you can be out the door in five minutes.” 
Gemma leaves the kitchen and goes back to tell Anne, leaving Harry and I alone. 
“You’re coming back here after, right?” He asks, trapping me against the counter. 
“Yeah, of course. I’ll actually be in London for almost the entire campaign. You’re going to be sick of me soon.” I smirk. 
“Never.” 
-    -    -
“I am OBSESSED with that yellow jacket you had on!” Gemma sighs dreamily as we enter Harry’s flat several hours later. “It’s to die for!”
“Well, I can see if I can get it for you after the shoot.”
We make our way to the living room where Harry is settled in on the couch with a book. 
“An angel.” She turns to her brother, “Did you know this one is an angel?” 
“You give me too much credit.” I laugh. 
“Thanks for the reminder, Gem.” Harry chuckles. 
“Okay, now I will get out of your hair. I’ve already stolen all afternoon with you. Hopefully see you soon!” She pulls me in for a hug, “Love you.” I let Harry walk her to the door to say their goodbyes. 
Harry comes back after a few minutes and pulls me down in a hug on the couch. He lets out a deep sigh into my neck, pulling my head in even closer. 
“You okay, babe?” I ask, taking note of his obvious mood. 
“Mmm, I was just thinking while you were out.”
“And what were you thinking?” I pull back so I can get a good look at his face. It’s always been an easy way to see how he’s feeling. 
“I was just thinking that we’re both in such a better place than we were all those years ago. I don’t tour every year anymore, and I’m signed with good management that actually lets me make my own decisions.”
“What are you saying?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck and studying his face closely. 
“I’m saying that you only tour ever other year, at max. I do the same now. Why can’t we make this work for real again? We’re both more established now and have the right to chose when and where we do things. I know, we make time for each other when we’re in the same city, but there’s nothing saying we can’t be in the same city. I could live in Los Angeles full time. I could live with you. Or we could both go to New York. I don’t care, as long as we can be together.” 
“Harry, you’re sure about this? We haven’t truly been together in a long time. I love spending my time with you, truly, but I don’t want you to uproot your life just for me.” I clarify. He’s saying what I’ve wanted to hear for years, but I just want to make sure we’ve thought things through before I give either of us false hope. 
“It wouldn’t just be for you, it would be for us. I love you so much, I feel like I’m wasting time. It seems like a waste to know exactly who your soulmate is, and not do everything in your power to make it work.” 
“I love you, too.” I press a fast and passionate kiss to his lips, “Although, I do have one thing that I think we should change.”
“Anything.” He answers, his eyes all gooey and lovey making me break out in a grin. I couldn’t keep a straight face over how I’m feeling if it tried. 
“Let me move here.”
“What?” He asks shocked.
“You love London and being close to your family more than anything, I could never ask you to change that.” 
“But-”
“And I love being close to them too. If today proves anything, you are my family.”
“Let me make the move” I grin. 
“Happily.” Harry’s dimples are on full display. 
“Hey, isn’t that another song you wrote about me?” I tease.
“Oh, shut up.” He rolls his eyes, pushing me back against the couch. 
plz give me some feedback! i thought this was so cute 
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hes-writer · 3 years
Text
Confessions: A ‘Favourite’ Extra
Summary: beatrice graduates and dad!harry is not invited
Warnings: angst!
Word Count: 3305 words
A/N: this is part of the ‘Favourite’ universe :D this scene takes place sometime between the first and second part! please read them before reading this.
Part One | Part Two
_____
Graduation.
Through Beatrice’s 18-years of living, she did not think that the celebration of liberation would be so sour. The day started off like any normal day. That is, except, she did not have to deliberately avoid the areas of the house that her dad, Harry, was in. It was strange that she had to feel uncomfortable in her own home.
For this special event, Beatrice had initially bought only three tickets for Ruby, Caleb and her mum, Y/N. Her dad had a packed schedule of promoting his newest album anyway so Beatrice thought that it wouldn’t even matter. She didn’t think he would want to come anyway. If Beatrice knew anything about her father is that he never really cared much about what went on in her life.
Beatrice supposes that it was okay. She had a whole lifetime to get used to it. A full lifestyle living on the edge because she didn’t know when her dad would clap-back with an insult for no reason. However, it didn’t mean that the spike in pain hurt any less. Don’t get her wrong; she was grateful for Y/N being around and involved. But Beatrice sometimes wondered how it would feel like to be wrapped in a fatherly embrace or be guided with wisdom and courage.
She really couldn’t remember the last time Harry did anything that made Beatrice feel like his daughter. Aside from the family photos they took on during the holidays or when celebrating whatever work achievement he managed to snag--that was the only time where Beatrice would feel Harry’s hand resting on her shoulder.
___
“Can I get one?” Ruby asked, tugging on the coloured strings of Beatrice’s cap. Her small body was being held by her older sister while Y/N took photos of the three siblings.
“Caleb, put your phone away please,” Y/N requested, shaking her head at the way the young boy groaned. Nonetheless, he followed the instruction.
"You’re lucky I love you or I would not have shown up,” Caleb grumbled, offering a sweet smile afterwards to suggest that he was joking. The three siblings posed for the camera, Beatrice trying hard not to let Ruby tilt her square cap.
Between a plastered smile, Beatrice replied, “Probably why dad isn’t here,”
Caleb widened his eyes significantly. Though, it seemed conspicuous to Y/N who was busy figuring out how to brighten the screen.
“That’s not true, sissy. He’s just busy,”
Beatrice chuckled, shrugging off the comforting hand of her younger brother, “Always busy but never when one of you have something going on,”
“It’s just a coincidence,”
“Yeah, sure,”
Caleb frowned at her response, focusing her attention on Ruby’s babbles. He almost spilled the surprise that their dad was going to watch Beatrice cross the stage. Caleb knew how his sisters felt about Harry and he hoped that his appearance would help patch things up between them.
Caleb walked over to Y/N, “Are you sure that Dad’s coming?”
Y/N nodded, “Yes, he said he’s looking for parking now,”
Caleb bit his lip nervously, “Do you think she’ll be surprised?”
——
“Graduate with honours, Beatrice Y/LN,”
Applause filled the venue as Beatrice walked up the steep steps of the stage. A shy smile was placed on her lips when she caught sight of the projector screen showcasing her achievements for her senior year.
In the audience, both Harry and Y/N were confused as to why Beatrice used her mother's name to be announced. The cinch in Y/N’s brow smoothed out when the principal continued speaking. Harry, however, couldn’t help the questioning frown.
“Top Chemistry. Top Biology. Overall Best Science Student. Gold Volunteer Badge. Level 4 Music Theory. Beatrice has been excelling both academically and musically while serving the community,”
Beatrice squinted at the bright lights, placing her diploma and speech on the podium. She had never been good at public speaking. However, her announced name gave Beatrice newfound confidence. It’s just her. All her achievements wouldn’t be credited to her father just because he was Harry Styles.
“Hi, uh,” She cleared her throat, “I’m Beatrice Y/LN and I’m very honoured to be standing in front of you today,”
Her speech was short and to the point; thanking her fellow classmates even though there were very few to thank personally. There were a few jokes in between and some nostalgic memories about various school events throughout the year. Beatrice mentioned remarks to her teachers who helped her achieve high grades. Lastly, she thanked her family for supporting  her
“I’d like to thank my family. My brother, Caleb. My sister, Ruby and my Mum. You guys have been so wonderful to me and I hope that I made you proud,”
Y/N was tearing up with a hand clasped over her mouth. She could not believe that her oldest daughter was off to university in a few weeks. Beatrice’s work ethic was unmatched and it showed in her getting the recognition that she deserved.
There was a pregnant pause before applause filled the space again. Despite switching her name last minute, everyone in her school knew that Beatrice was a Styles kid. They were probably waiting for her to mention him in her speech. But Beatrice felt no need to mention the man that had done nothing for her. He wasn’t even here.
“Thank you and congratulations, everyone!”
Harry slumped lower in his seat. He could feel Y/N’s worried eyes and Caleb’s observant gaze inspecting his face.
____
Beatrice stood beside her family, watching Harry a few metres away who was currently busy attending to the fans that recognized him. Even with his graying hair, many parents greeted him with a reminiscing statement about how they ‘saw him in concert back in the day’, to which he would chuckle at and proceed to converse for a few minutes until their child--Beatrice’s age--tugged them away.
All that Beatrice wanted to do was to get home and interact with her online friends. She had mentioned that she was graduating today and they were all very proud of her. Beatrice would rather take the peace and quiet of her own room than a bustling party.
“You’re invited,” Emma, a popular girl, stated while handing her a piece of paper with all the details of the party. Beatrice mumbled a hushed ‘thanks’, despite knowing that she wouldn’t even attend it in the first place.
“Are you going, Tris?” Y/N asked, holding Ruby’s hand so the youngest child would not get lost in the crowd.
Beatrice shook her head ‘no’, explaining that there was no point.
“I don’t know anyone there anyway,”
She was kind of a loner, but Beatrice was happier by herself anyways. “Besides, I don’t think dad will agree. It’s way past curfew,”
Y/N nodded in understanding. The curfew set for their eldest child was at nine in the evening. Y/N was sure that Harry would be lenient to let Beatrice go; it was her graduation after all. Sooner or later, Beatrice would be leaving for university.
____
Beatrice should be grateful. She should be happy, yet somehow those emotions were non-existent to her brain right now. She should be smiling, eyes brimming with tears because her dad actually cared to throw a party for her. But all she could feel right now was a pure disappointment and agonizing anger because Beatrice knows that he was trying to make up for years of mistreatment.
At this moment, the rowdiness of the party only proved that Harry really did not know anything about Beatrice. She did not know over half the people here, aside from the few relatives they see during the holidays; her grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. The rest were recognizable from Harry’s industry. Beatrice swore she saw Lizzo sipping a cup of liquor in their kitchen.
Aside from the initial greeting of ‘congratulations’, paired with the large banister taped on the foyer of the house, this party wasn’t much of a celebration based on Beatrice’s milestone in life. If anything, it looked like a regular get together for celebrities and industry people. Frankly, she had no interest in interacting with them. As rude as it may sound, the swirling turmoil of emotions beginning from her stomach made Beatrice push past the packed crowd with a tight-lipped smile in order to get to her room.
She felt like she couldn’t breathe, especially knowing that these people in her house absolutely adored Harry. They saw him as a family man, loved and appreciated by his kids. It wasn’t a complete lie, per se. Beatrice just didn’t have much experience to confirm that he was, in fact, a lovable and caring person.
If she had to put a finger on it, Beatrice was feeling utter disgust. She was disgusted because Harry was the perfect person in their eyes when everything he had shown her was that she was someone that didn’t deserve any of his attention. It felt like this was a celebration of her dad’s façade--he was not actually proud of her. He was just making it seem like he is so he wouldn’t be perceived as the dead-beat dad.
A knock at her door sounded. It was almost as if Beatrice could sense her dad’s presence without turning around to look at who just entered the privacy of her room.
“Tris?” Harry whispered, hesitating on mumbling the nickname. He had never done it willingly before, much less not as bitter as the previous times.
Beatrice swore that she could practically see the venom slithering on his tongue every time he said her name. But maybe that was just her skewed perception.
The chair that she was sitting on creaked as she shifted her weight, leaning her elbows on her desk.
“Why did you even throw a party, dad?”
It was merely a genuine question that held so many underlying meanings. Why now? Why not earlier when there was still hope to fix whatever sort of broken and fucked up relationship they had with each other?
Harry fully stepped into the room, observing the walls decorated with art and artists whom he recognized were his friends. He didn’t realize that she was a fan of Florence Pugh.
He cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth, “I wanted to celebrate your graduation,”
Beatrice internally rolled her eyes, “Did you really? Because you haven’t been there when I needed your help with my homework or assignments or anything. Now,  suddenly you want to act like you were a big part of how I achieved my accomplishments?”
It was a sour realization. It was accurate that Harry refused to help her with schoolwork. He swore that he was busy looking over new options for his upcoming projects. Retrospectively, he might have subconsciously spewed out excuses so that he wouldn’t be able to help his dear daughter.
Beatrice sighed, flattening the balls of her palms against the edge of the sleek wood, pushing the rolling wheels of the chair back. She stood up.
“Just admit it. You threw the party because you felt guilty and you think that somehow, everything will magically be okay between us?” Beatrice shot him a questioning look, chest-puffing when Harry’s lack of words confirmed her theory.
Beatrice propped her feet in the middle of her room, twisting her body so that her back was facing away from the closed-door; from him. She breathed heavily through her nose, lungs rising up and down as she gathered her thoughts.
Unbelievable.
Harry stood with his arms by his sides, staring at his daughter with curious compassion. He did not know what to say, nor did he know how to act because he didn’t take the time to get to know her. He didn’t spend time with Beatrice; nurturing, caring, calming or comforting her because he simply couldn't get over the fact that she was once a person that caused calamity in his life.
“Tris,” Her dad spoke, earning a pinch of her facial expression from the familiarity of the nickname. Yet, it was unfamiliar because Harry used it mundanely.
Beatrice cut him off, “I’ll be leaving for university in a few weeks. You can quit pretending like you care. You say this graduation party is for me but I don’t even know most of the people here!”
The volume of her voice reached a threshold that should warn both of them to keep quiet. However, Beatrice knew that with the hustle and bustle of the celebration going on downstairs—no one would hear her honesty except for her and Harry.
Harry blinked twice, mouth dropping slightly agape. Why did he throw this party? He knew his intentions; he was proud of his daughter. He wanted to show her off to everyone he knew about how intelligent and well-rounded Beatrice was.
The girl continued speaking as if reading Harry’s train of thought.
“This is for you,” She spoke bitterly as if her tongue was left with an odd taste in her mouth. “Showing off a ‘trophy’ daughter who graduated with honours but that doesn’t matter, does it? Nothing I ever do will match what you’ve done.”
The accompanying laugh—albeit, sarcastic— left Harry confused.
“What? No, this is for you. I’m proud of you,” Harry quickly disagreed with Beatrice, gesturing his large hands in a wave to emphasize his words.
She turned around with gentle disbelief; her features were hardened yet Beatrice’s eyes gleamed with hope. She wanted so badly to believe her dad, but his lack of attentiveness to her led Beatrice to roll her eyes at him instead.
“Cut the crap, Dad,”
“Language,” Harry added, pursing his lips when Beatrice scoffed.
“I can’t believe this,” Beatrice muttered, she stared at the ground as if picking out the words to say.
As bad as it sounded, she wanted to hurt her dad the way he did to her. Years of being treated like an unwanted child slowly built up inside of her and Beatrice wanted the pain to end.
“You wanted to be everything so bad that you forgot to be my Dad,”
“I am your dad, Tris,” Harry watched as she walked over to her desk. Fingers cascading the glass picture frame which held a still of their family.
“Don’t you think I know that?” Beatrice turned around, throwing the edged frame on her bed in a fit of anger.
Harry’s brows shot up to his forehead, watching his daughter’s eyes well up with tears.
“You are my dad but you’ve never been one to me! Why is that? Huh?” Beatrice pressed, crossing her arms and digging her fingernails on the skin of her bicep.
“I’m sorry that I took those opportunities away from you. You got movie deals, You had an album coming out. Tours, shows, money—you had everything and I ruined it, didn’t I? As you said, it would’ve been better if I wasn’t born,”
Harry was no stranger to not interrupting someone when they spoke. However, he couldn’t let Beatrice believe the words she spoke.
“Don’t say that! That’s not true,” He stuttered over his words, heart-shattering under the weight of Beatrice’s truthfulness. Sure, he had everything, but it didn’t mean that he was satisfied.
“But you thought about it right? You wondered how different it would be if I wasn’t born at the wrong time. Maybe you would’ve loved me more—like you do Caleb and Ruby,” Beatrice smiled sadly.
She was glad that at least her siblings would not have to experience the searing pain of being unappreciated. They did not deserve to be seen through like a ghost.
“Maybe you would’ve paid more attention to me. Maybe you would have cared that I was hurting every time you showed me nothing but disdain,”
Beatrice used her forearm to wipe away the tears beginning to soak her reddened cheeks. She sighed, plopping down at the foot of her bed, watching Harry look at her with an unreadable emotion on his face.
“You know, It’s not my responsibility to ask why,” Beatrice whispered. Though, she wondered what would have happened if she did question her dad why he looked at her as if she was a burden in his life.
Beatrice’s monologue crescendoed as utter pain cracked her voice every now and then. Her figure slouching as she truly experienced what it was like to let go of the turmoiled affliction soaring through her body.
“I’m your child! You’re the one who’s supposed to be looking out for me. You’re the one who’s supposed to show me what love is supposed to feel like. I’ve always wondered how you’d react if I came home with a boyfriend like all the movies and books talk about. But, all you’ve shown and made me feel was my first heartbreak when you’re supposed to be the one nursing me from it,”
At that point, Harry could not remain the eye contact he shared with his daughter, gazing down at the floorboard in shame.
“You were supposed to scare guys off because I’m your eldest daughter. You’re supposed to protect me from everything that could hurt me, even when it’s irrational because that is what Dads do,”
That same bitter laugh that pierced Harry’s ears earlier echoed again.
“But I guess you never really wanted to become one to begin with. Or maybe just not with me.”
Harry took a few steps back. Her words figuratively churned and twisted his gut. He caught his balance on the doorknob that moved feverishly under his weight. Sure, he didn’t want to be her dad at first. And he had many chances to fix a strained relationship, but he never took them. So really, he had no shield at denying the truth. He was simply a father who failed to be the dad to Beatrice.
“I-I do! I want to be--if you'd let me,” He hated the way his voice became weary.
Despite their differences, Beatrice and Harry both mutually hated the way his tone pinched. The way he had to plead and beg for his daughter’s forgiveness when it seemed to be too late. This could have been avoided if Harry took the chance to become the dad that Beatrice deserved to have. The dad that her siblings--Caleb and Ruby--saw and spent time with while Beatrice watched behind, wondering why she was never treated the way they did.
“For years, I wondered what was wrong with me. I listened to the music that you liked. I asked mum what you enjoyed doing because you never talk to me. I wanted you to see me as a daughter instead of this--this invisible speck that you shrug off your shoulder every time I needed you!” Beatrice cried out, hugging herself for comfort.
The worst part was that she could see Harry’s legs buckle in hesitation to come closer to her or not. He shouldn’t even have to think to comfort his daughter, but he did.
“I wanted you to like me as if I even have to do that in the first place! You’re my dad, don’t you get it? Because I didn’t. I spent so much time being the perfect child in hopes of you giving me an ounce of your attention aside from the face you put on when I walked into the room. Why did you have to treat me this way, huh?”
Tears spilled from her forest-green eyes, identical to Harry’s glazed ones. His mouth parted in retaliation. As if he was plopped in quicksand, Harry had no idea how to defend himself.
“I know that you didn’t want me in the first place but--,” Beatrice sniffled, wiping the salty liquid to her damp temples, “I just wished you treated me like I wasn’t a burden to you,”
_____
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matildashoney · 3 years
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love on tour
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hiiii. i haven't written anything in so long, i'm not really sure if i even know how to do it anymore.
since we last talked about me not writing anymore, i moved to a new state, started graduate school, have been spending a lot of time with friends, have started going to concerts again (safely, of course), have seen harry twice! and i'll be seeing him again this weekend with a bunch of friends, turned twenty two, started a new job and i'm starting a second one next week. things in my life are absolutely hectic but since tour has started it's made me miss writing.
a lot.
so, with that being said, i think i'm going to start back up again. i have a series in my head that i think i want to roll with, and i'm going to try this out one more time. please bear with me as i try to figure out what i'm doing, again, lol.
love you all very much. enjoy violet and harry.
Harry rushes through the curtains, adrenaline pulsing through his veins and sweat dripping down his forehead, his mask sticking tightly against his face. His eyes are searching for the one person he hasn’t seen since before he was wheeled away in the metal box to go underneath the stage, the person that he knew was dancing in the corner with her friends, unnoticed by anyone else in the room. His lips are pursed together in a straight line when he can’t find her, his ears perking at the sound of her laughter rushing through the hallways as she wipes her hands on her trousers and links arms with their mutual friend to walk back to where her boyfriend would be waiting for her, as he told her he would be before he left ninety-some minutes ago.
This is Violet’s first show since officially stepping out as Harry’s girlfriend. Harry Styles and Violet James are officially dating in the public eye, after navigating nearly two years beyond their initial split, the getting back together and taking it further than it’s ever been before, it’s astonishing to see that they’ve made it this far. Jeff and Lilah have been loving this so fondly with all the press about their relationship thus far, and it’s only made the transition that much more insane.
“V,” Harry calls from the end of the hallway, reaching his hand out and grabbing towards her, smiling when she whispers something to her friend and walks towards him, laying her hand in his and letting him bring her into his chest. “Mm, you smell good.”
“That’s because you smell like sweat,” Violet laughs, pulling her mask down slightly to kiss his cheek, smirking when he brings his own mask to his chin and meets her mouth in a quick kiss. “Taste like it, too.”
“Don’t like the sweat with the ‘stache, love?” he says, kissing her temple sweetly and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “I didn’t see you in the crowd. Where’d you run off to?”
“Lilah and I were in the back dancing,” she explains, leaning into his chest and hearing the rush of the crowd begin to leave the building. “Curfew” as they called it – or when they had to leave the venue – was at eleven, and they were nearing their time to get kicked out. “I didn’t want to get in the way. Get distracted very easily, H.”
“I do not.”
“Do, too,” she argues, shaking her head and stepping out of his grasp around her body, wiggling her eyebrows as she begins to hurry towards the dressing room where he would be getting changed and showered for the evening.
“Not this, again,” Harry grunts, hurrying after her and following her into the dressing room, ignoring the shouts and hollers from his friends and bandmates as he hustles after her. He knows what’s in store for him behind the shut door, and he’s been waiting for it all night. Especially since she refused to do it in front of his friends and bandmates and crew before the show.
Violet was still getting used to all this. Violet, or V as Harry calls her fondly, is still getting used to all the ‘having everyone around all the time’, ‘everyone in your business always’ thing. Violet never had to deal with that, even as a young engineer in the industry. That was one of the many perks of being behind the scenes. Her name was always in the background. Until now.
“Violet, come here. It’s just us; we’re alone. Cross my heart.”
“What are we? In primary school?” she teases, walking out of the en-suite bathroom and peeling the mask off her face, tossing it on the spare couch in the corner and walking towards her boyfriend – who was insatiably pouting – standing near the door. “You make it so easy to tease you, H.”
“I know, I know,” Harry smirks, wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her tightly for the first time all night, a real embrace, one where their hearts are pounding against their chests and their mouths are mere inches from each other. “Thank you so much for coming. Know you’re busy working on some stages and all, but it means everything to me that you’re here.”
“Why wouldn’t I be here? I’m your girlfriend. It’s not like I’m crashing the whole tour with you.” Harry pulls away and quirks his eyebrows, silently saying, but you could if you wanted to. “I’m not crashing the whole tour with you. We already talked about this.” Violet made it clear to Harry that she wouldn’t be staying for the entire tour from the very beginning – she wouldn’t be that type of girlfriend, as much as she wanted to be. “I’ll be here until Tuesday and then I’ll see you for Madison Square Garden and Halloween and the last stint in LA.”
Harry chuckles quietly to himself, “Can say it, love. Harryween.”
Violet shakes her head, “I refuse to feed your ego, like that, as much as I love you. It’s a Harry Styles show on Halloween.” Harry smirks and wraps his arms tighter around her waist, holding her as tightly to his chest as physically possible, soaking in the way she brushes through his hair sweetly and hums quietly to herself to the music playing in the background of the arena. “That was amazing, as always, you know. I love seeing you on the stage. It’s where you belong, baby.”
Harry’s eyes crinkle at the corners with his smile, the genuineness of the moment making his heart well with love and affection for the person he’s lucky enough to have a second chance with. Convincing her to go out with him again wasn’t easy, she isn’t very persuadable when it comes to things that she’s already made up her mind about. Harry considers himself lucky that she wasn’t so set in stone when it came to things with him.
Harry always thought of himself as very lucky, especially considering how things turned out with his career and his dream but having her with him, here, halfway across the country when she’s working with their label on about four other stages, at the minute, and not being the one that got away, made him feel especially so. “Thank you for being here.”
“Happy to be here,” she smiles, kissing his cheek and squeaking with a giggle when he lifts her onto his waist and walks her into the bathroom with him, settling her on the counter before stripping and stepping into the shower. “I could’ve waited outside, you know. Until you were, you know, at least a little bit decent.”
“Not anything you haven’t seen before, baby.”
“Is it anything I prefer to see?” she says, squinting her eyes playfully, as though she is trying to see through the steam beginning to surround the bathroom.
Harry smirks and pokes his head out of the shower, “Come in here and find out.”
“You know the rules, H.”
“They’re stupid rules, V,” he mumbles beneath his breath, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. His showers never last very long in the arenas, a quick in and out to rinse off the sweat from the stage and feel semi-clean; nothing like the showers he takes when he gets to the hotels, where he can take his time and really feel refreshed.
“They’re not stupid!”
“They’re a little stupid, my love.”
“Don’t add the ‘my love’ in there to break the insult!” she says, handing a towel towards him as he steps out of the shower and shakes his hair against her legs, dampening her thighs with a hearty laugh. He’s always a child at heart, but especially around Violet. “That’s rude, Harry.”
“I think you’re just making excuses, Violet.” Harry wraps the towel around his waist and walks to the counter, spreading her legs just enough to slide his body in between her thighs. “I’m happy I’ll be seeing you in two weeks. I don’t like being away from you for that long.”
“I know you don’t. You’re a little clingy, my love.”
“Don’t add the ‘my love’ in there to break the insult,” he mimics, shaking his head and laughing quietly. Harry knows he’s clingy; it’s just who he is. He’s always been this way, especially since they’ve barely spent any time together since getting back together at the wedding nearly two months ago. Violet and Harry decided to try again and then Harry was leaving for tour literally two weeks later. “Are you sure you can’t stay a little longer?”
“Unfortunately, I’m sure,” she says regretfully, giving him his shirt and watching as the muscles on his back tense beneath his movements – she’ll take advantage of feeling them later – as he dresses himself. “I’m definitely going to miss you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Harry smirks, his sweatpants settling on his hips and his shirt hanging loosely from his torso. “I think I know why you’ll miss me, but we can pretend it’s ‘cause of other reasons.”
“You’re deranged,” Violet says, jumping off the counter and wrapping her arms around his waist, holding him tightly. “Absolutely deranged.”
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years
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Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 5)
uh ohh, part 5 baby! im quite enjoying this story so far and i have some fun things planned for it, so i hope you’ll stay with me for them! in today’s part, our fav new celeb couple takes it all the way, though i chose not to include the actual sex part, however im still treating you all with some dirty stuff so enjoy!
pairing: Harry x actress!reader
word count: 4.6k
warning: NSFW content
SERIES MASTERPOST
masterlist
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New couple alert?
Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N have been spotted having lunch and grabbing coffee several times in the course of the past few weeks. All the outings looked casual and friendly, they gladly stopped for fans that approached them and the word has it that they’ve been getting closer to each other, though neither of them confirmed anything.
Harry Styles has been known to be single for a while now, only faint rumors swirling up sometimes, but none of them were proven to be true, the young actress is the first woman he has been linked to in a long time. Y/N Y/L/N has been focusing on her blooming career and has been single since her split from long time exboyfriend and fellow actor, Levi Hudson. The pair dated all through 2018, splitting in the beginning of 2019. Hudson has admitted their hectic schedules made it impossible to maintain their relationship while Y/N did not confirm anything.
Styles is going on his world-wide tour soon, while Y/L/N is currently between two projects. The young celebs seem to be enjoying each other’s company and fans have been quick to jump into speculations about their alleged romance, however there is no evidence as of right now.
“Thank you so much for your time, it was a pleasure to talk to you,” the young interviewer smiles at you, holding her hand out and you shake it with a warm smile.
“Thank you for having me! And I really like your shoes, by the way,” you point down at her electric blue pumps that you’ve been eyeing since the start of the interview.
“Oh, thank you! Got them from a vintage store,” she beams, a slight blush playing on her cheeks clearly a little starstruck from your compliment.
“Love those little stores.”
“Me too,” she giggles collecting her papers and notes. “Someone will contact you and your team soon about the photoshoot and I’ll email you a draft of the interview in about a week.”
“That’s perfect, thank you so much,” you nod at her grabbing your purse from the side table next to you. Grabbing your phone from the depth of it you smile to yourself upon seeing the text from Harry.
“Call me when you’re done with the interview Xx.”
You say your goodbye to everyone before heading out of the building. Lawrence is at the front waiting for you in the car and he greets you with a warm smile when you sit into the backseat. As he starts the car and heads back to your home, you call Harry, who picks it up after the second ring.
“Hey! How was the interview?” he beams brightly, his voice immediately making you smile.
“Great! This young girl did it and she had some exciting questions.”
“Sounds lovely. Can’t wait to buy a Cosmopolitan with you on the cover soon,” he says and you can hear the grin through his voice.
“Will look good in your hands for sure,” you chuckle.
“Right. So I have a question for you.”
“Go for it.”
“I’m doing this very small show at Beacon Theater this weekend, kind of a practice before the real tour begins and I was wondering if you’d be up to come. Would love to have you there.”
“When is it exactly?”
“Saturday at nine. I know it’s a short notice and I get it if you have something else going on, just wanted to ask.”
“I think I can make it work,” you smile, thinking back at what your day looks like on Saturday. “Can I bring someone?”
“Of course! Just let me know how many people so I can have the tickets sent over to you.”
“Thank you. It’s sweet of you to think about me.”
“You know I always think about you,” he murmurs and his voice sends a shiver down your spine. Crazy to think how much he can affect you with just his words, he just has a special spell on you, it seems.
“Still such a flirt, I see,” you chuckle, feeling your cheeks heating up as you hear his soft laugh on the other end of the line.
“For you, always.”
“Alright. I’ll text you about the tickets and thank you again. Can’t wait to see you perform finally.”
“It’s been due for a while now, right? Kind of promised you some tickets on Ellen, if I remember correctly.”
“You did!” you laugh thinking back at the time you met him. How funny that just one short game on a talk show led the two of you here. You have to thank Ellen though.
“Now I’m finally keeping my promise. Talk to you later then, Love. Have a great day.”
“You too, Harry.”
 You manage to convince Sydney to join you for the concert, she sounds excited when you ask if she had anything to do on Saturday. Seeing Harry perform before his tour kicks off is a thrill for her she wouldn’t pass on for anything, so she is really grateful that you thought of her as your plus one.
Harry has your passes sent over to your place on Friday and it comes with a bouquet of flowers as well as a card.
“Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. What’s your favorite song? I’ll make sure to perform it just for you. –H”
He never fails to make you feel like the only woman on the planet and you can definitely see why so many fall for him even without meeting him. The man has all the power to charm anyone with just a smile.
You put the flowers into a vase and leave them on your dining table before grabbing your phone and sending him a quick text.
“It’s Only Angel,” you simply write, hoping he’ll get it why you just wrote that. Luckily, he does.
“Straight to the setlist. Dedicated to You.”
 Finishing up the last touches to your makeup you bop your head to the song blasting through the stereo. It’s Only Angel, of course. You’ve had it on repeat all afternoon and now you can’t wait to actually see Harry perform it live.
Just as you are about to get changed, Syd arrives so you let her in with a beaming smile and when she hears the music upon walking into your place she cheers in excitement.
“Yes! This is such a jam!” she smirks, doing a little dance as you lock the door behind her.
“You look fantastic, Syd,” you tell her. The black short dress looks amazing paired with the lilac oversized blazer. Her makeup matches the same color and you are obsessed with the fishnet tights. She will surely make men wish she was into them.
“Thank you! Spent two hours figuring out what to wear, so I hope I look fantastic,” she giggles.
She helps you put together your outfit as well. Wide legged flaming red pants that make your waist look snatched, a black sheer top tucked into it with just a black bralette underneath. You already know Harry will be a fan of the skin you’re showing, you can’t wait to see his face when he finally spots you.
You quickly pack your essentials into a black Chanel purse along with stuff you need for a possible sleepover if things might take a pleasant turn, and you finish with everything just when the doorman calls up through the intercom that Lawrence has arrived.
“So, what’s the deal with you and him, if I may ask?” Syd questions in the car, not in a nosy way, more like a curious, friendly way.
“We are… getting close,” you say, tasting the word on your tongue. You haven’t labeled whatever you have going on with Harry, nor do you really know what it should be called. You’ve been trying hard to make time for each other as much as possible, making small lunch and coffee dates a regular thing. He came over to your place one evening for a movie and that’s the only time you were able to be alone with him, though nothing sexual happened. Yet. The real deal is yet to happen and if you are being honest you are running short on patience. It’s getting harder to hold yourself back and keep your hands to yourself as well when you are out with him, but you agreed to keep it lowkey out in the public.
Tonight, however, you have a feeling what you’ve been waiting for so long might actually happen and you can only hope Harry is planning the same thing. You are absolutely ready to bluntly ask if he wants to spend the night at your place.
“But you’re heading… somewhere, right?”
“I hope so,” you smile shyly.
“That’s amazing. I think you two are a match,” Syd smirks at you.
By the time you arrive to the venue the gates have been opened so people are busy getting inside, giving you the chance to walk inside through the backdoors without any fuss.
“Miss, Harry requested me to usher you to his dressing room when you arrive,” the girl at the door smiles at you with a clipboard in her hands and a headset covering her ears.
“Oh, alright,” you nod, turning to Syd. “You go ahead and get us a good place,” you tell her and she nods walking away with a wave as she heads up to the second floor that’s fully reserved for friends and family.
Following the girl down the hallway you are led to a room that has Harry’s name on it. She gently knocks on the door and a few moments later it flies open, revealing Harry in a colorful suit and a simple white button-down shirt. He looks breathtaking, hair fixed perfectly and the wide grin stretching across his lips when he sees you standing there.
“You’re here!” he breathes out, grabbing your hand and pulling inside, snatching you away from the preying eyes. Once the door clicks closed behind you, he is quick to press his lips to yours in a sweet welcoming kiss. Ever since your first official date he hasn’t passed on any chance to kiss you whenever you had the luxury of privacy to yourselves, which hasn’t happened too much, leaving you both with a growing hunger for each other every time you meet.
“Mm of course I am,” you smile against his lips before pecking them one last time and leaning back. “Looking great, Mr. Styles,” you grin, taking your time to wander your eyes down on him.
“Yeah? Like the suit?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well, I love your outfit as well. M’gonna have a hard time not thinking about you on the stage.”
“Please think about me,” you breathe out with a coy smile.
“Don’t fucking say that to me, you are giving me a hard time,” he groans and you just chuckle at the tortured look on his face.
“Sorry,” you mumble, but your face doesn’t meet your words. He squeezes your waist gently, pecking your lips in a rush before he lets go of you.
“I need to go over a few things before we start, so just go ahead and join Syd. Meet me here after the show?”
“Yeah, perfect,” you nod smiling. “Good luck out there,” you wink and he grins at you with bright eyes. His hands grab onto yours before you head out, pulling you in for one last kiss before you leave.
You feel flustered and you take a few deep breaths on your way up to the gallery to find Syd who managed to get an amazing spot at the front on the left side.
They offer everyone up on the gallery some champagne before the show starts and looking around you see a few familiar faces, but no one you specifically know. You stick with Sydney who is over the moon about the show and you are kind of sharing her excitement.
When the lights go down and the music finally starts, you can’t help but join in with the screams that fill the theater.
You’ve seen videos of him performing, in One Direction and solo as well. You’ve seen pictures and you’ve heard the words about how amazing he is on stage, but none of those live up to the actual experience. The sensation that takes over you just by seeing him appear on the stage as the whole theater chants his name as one, it completely sweeps you off your feet and for a second you wonder how you could live a life without this experience.
When his voice starts to flow through the massive speakers you need to take a deep breath, a shiver runs down your spine and you chug down the rest of your champagne so you could get rid of the glass and hold onto the railing with both hands because you feel like you need to ground yourself before you shoot into the sky.
Song after song, he performs perfectly, bringing every single person in the audience to that euphoric state they’ve been probably seeking their whole life. The experience is surely one of a kind, something you’ll definitely be thinking about for a long time.
Time seems to stop, though it cruelly carries on even when you forget about it completely. The concert is nearing its end and Harry takes a breather as he places his guitar to the stand behind him. You watch his every move as he walks back to the microphone, his gaze moving up to the gallery, roaming through the people until they find you.
“This last song is dedicated… to my Only Angel,” he murmurs into the microphone as the audience erupts, blows up at once and your heart skips a beat when his eyes linger over you for a little longer before the music starts to play.
You faintly hear Syd screaming next to you, probably aware that the dedication was addressed to you, but you can’t tear your eyes off of the man on the stage.
He nails it perfectly, looking like an absolute rockstar that he truly is and for a moment you can’t believe you have his attention and interest. How can such a precious and unbelievably talented man be in your reach?
Because I deserve great things in life, you tell yourself, a little mantra you’ve gotten around to repeat every time you found yourself doubting your success and happiness.
The concert eventually ends and though no one in the room desires the end of it, Harry leaves and you are abruptly brought back to reality.
“That was… something else truly,” Syd breathes out as the two of you linger around a little longer, trying to come down from the high you just experienced.
“Yeah. He is so fucking talented it’s almost unfair,” you chuckle running a hand through your hair.
“This tour will kill thousands of people all around the world,” she muses and for a moment, reality sets in and you realize that Harry will leave for his worldwide tour very soon, leaving you behind.
You get rid of the thought, not wanting to stress over something that’s not relevant just yet and you don’t want to ruin the evening either. Fears and stress can wait a little longer.
The two of you make your way backstage, walking into a bit of a chaos as all close friends and family want to congratulate to Harry and the band as well. Standing at the side you let everyone have their time, barely even seeing Harry in the sea of people in the spacious green room. Syd keeps you company as you wait and about thirty minutes later it seems like the crowd is starting to loosen up.
Harry spots you and excuses himself immediately from his conversation with a couple, heading in your direction with the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his pretty face.
“Congrats, that was mind-blowing,” you smirk as he reaches you, a hand curling around your waist as he leans down and places a kiss to your cheek, keeping it as moderate as possible, though you both just want to jump at each other.
“Thank you, Love,” he nods, a blush tinting his cheeks from your words. “Hello Sydney, so great to see you again,” he greets the girl next to you and they share a short hug.
“Hi! Loved the show so much!” she giggles in excitement.
“Thank you for coming.”
The three of you chat for a while before Sydney says she is gonna call herself an Uber, so after saying her goodbye she leaves you alone with Harry, as much as you can be alone with a bunch of other people around.
“I wanted to ask you something,” he clears his throat as his hand finds its way back to the small of your back.
“Go for it.”
“We are gonna grab a drink at some bar, but nothing over the top and I wanted to ask if you would want to join.”
“Sounds good,” you smile, feeling a little disappointed. This is not exactly what you wanted him to ask. Luckily, he is not done with his questions.
“Also… I-If it’s cool by you, I thought that… maybe you could come over?”
“Mmm, go over and do what?” you tease him, your smile stretching wider with each passing moment.
“I have plenty of ideas, Love,” he breathes out, making you laugh. “We could drop by your place if you need anything to stay over.”
“No need. Packed a bag,” you slyly grin at him, taking him by surprise clearly, but it’s surely a pleasant one.
“Always a step ahead of me, huh?” he smirks, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
It takes some time to actually leave the venue and head off to the bar with a close group of friends of him and the band. A secluded area was already reserved for you that has its own bar, so you could enjoy the evening without worrying about preying eyes of strangers or fans. You really weren’t in the mood to keep your distance from Harry, this way at least you were able to touch each other in a more intimate way without speculations swirling up immediately.
You get to know his band and some of his friends, they are all genuinely amazing people, but you weren’t expecting anything else. You figured he only surrounds himself with people like him. His hands often find your waist and he doesn’t shy away from kissing your cheek or giving your hips a gentle squeeze, just letting you know you have his attention and he appreciates that you’re there.
It’s nearing one am when the guests start leaving and soon enough you find yourself in the back of your car with Harry, heading to his place, while you try your best to keep your hands away from him. You wouldn’t put Lawrence through the trauma of having to see or hear something he shouldn’t.
But that doesn’t stop you from kissing, something you’ve been dying to do all night. Your hand rests on his thigh while he has an arm curled around your shoulders, keeping you tight by his side, delicately brushing his nose against your hair every time your lips are not connected.
“Thank you, Lawrence. I’ll call myself a taxi in the morning, have the day off,” you tell your driver who smiles in your way thankfully while Harry grabs your and his bags from the back of the car.
“Thank you, Miss. Enjoy your night,” he nods in your way as you shut the door closed.
You try to take your duffel bag from Harry, but he insists to carry it as the two of you walk inside his house.
“Want something to drink? Water, tea or something?” he asks, setting the bags down near his giant, comfortable looking couch. Your thoughts immediately wander to a dirty field, picturing him sitting on that very couch as you kneel in front of him, pleasuring him so good that his eyes roll back…
“Yeah, water please,” you say clearing your throat. Some hydration will come handy after the drinks you chugged down at the bar.
You follow him as he shuffles into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and a bottled water from the fridge for you, pouring some into the glass before handing it to you.
“Thank you. You have a nice place for yourself,” you tell him, looking around in his home.
“Thanks. Been working on it for a while,” he chuckles softly. “Feels a bit too big for just myself though.”
You finish the water and set your eyes at him, feeling your hunger for him grow with each passing moment. Placing the empty glass to the marble counter you take a step closer to him.
“You feel lonely often?” you question in a low voice. His eyes return to you and you are happy to see the same lust in them.
“Would say so, yes,” he nods, running his tongue over his pink lips before he reaches out and grabbing you by your hips, he draws you close to him. Leaning down his lips brush against the shell of your ear, a shiver runs down your spine when you hear his whisper in it. “Hope it’ll change soon.”
At a loss of patience, you grab his face and angle it perfectly so you can kiss him hard. And by hard, you mean real hard. He stumbles back from the force, but manages to keep his balance, returning the kiss just as vehemently as he receives it, a tug of war starting between the two of you.
His hands work fast on the sheer fabric of your shirt, pulling it out from the waistband of your pants, getting rid of it eagerly as his lips wander down on your neck, collarbones and chest. He easily turns the two of you around so you are pushed against the edge of the countertop, his hips pushed against you and it’s clearer that daylight just how excited he is to have you here tonight. Your eyes flicker over to the couch again and the desire to please him with your mouth just bursts, you can’t hold yourself back anymore.
So you push him away from you, grabbing his wrist and yanking him after you, heading towards the couch. You push him down and his lustful eyes follow every move of yours as you kneel in front of him and he realizes what you are about to do. He doesn’t stop you when you work to unbutton his pants, but his hand finds your chin and he pulls you up for a swift, but passionate kiss.
Once you successfully undid his pants he lifts his hips and you spare some time and energy, pulling them down along with his underwear, leaving him only in his vintage printed t-shirt as his cock springs free. You push your thighs together just at the sight of him, the way his eyes burn down on you, how his lips part when your gazes meet and the way he sucks on his breath when your fingers dig into his thighs near his crotch as you situate yourself closer.
“I believe I owe you an orgasm, don’t I?” you ask with a cheeky smirk before wrapping your left hand around the base of his shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze, just enough to get him even more excited. A whimpered moan slips from his lips and you lean closer, giving his cock a lick from bottom to top, wrapping your lips around the head as you swirl your tongue around it.
“Fuck hell!” he breathes out, clearly enjoying himself, hands fisting the cushion next to him, but you bet they’ll be buried in your hair soon.
You’re not an expert in the field of blowjobs, but it’s been your thing to come barging right through the door and jump the easy teasing whenever you were on your knees for a man. So with your hands fixed on his beautiful face, you sink down on him, his cock gliding into your mouth right until the tip reaches the back of your throat, earning the loudest moan you’ve heard from him. Shutting your eyes closed you keep him like that for a second until the urge to gag starts to set in, so you slide him out, your saliva dripping down his erection as your eyes meet his and you can tell you shocked him with your bold first move.
“Do that one more time and I won’t last for a minute,” he warns breathing heavily and you just smirk up at him before going into action again, this time only taking a smaller portion of him, pumping the base to make up for the lack of deep throating, but it appears that he enjoys just the simple part of it equally. As you keep bobbing your head, taking as much of him as you can without gagging, his right hand flies to your hair, taking a handful of it as he gently guides your head, keeping it in the rhythm that works the best for him and you happily let him do whatever makes him feel good.
When your free hand goes to gently massage his balls your name erupts from him in the most voluptuous way you’ve heard him call out for you. As if he just cried out for God himself.
“Y/N, fuck, I won’t last long,” he warns you, but that’s all you want. You need to see him come undone under your touch, you want to be the reason his breath hitches. Picking up your pace you see him whimper some more, head falling backwards to the back of the couch. It’s a heavenly view and you wish you could take a picture of his beauty as he enjoys himself on this intimate level. You’ve never wanted to please a man more than him and just seeing him in this blissful state makes you wet through your underwear.
When his breathing starts to get uneven, chest heaving wildly, you take all of him again, his head poking the back of your throat and you push your tongue against his length as you slide him out, picking up the same pace that you kept before, both hands working hard on him.
“Fuck! I-I’m gonna cum!” he warns again and just a few seconds later, you feel the evidence of his satisfaction spurt into the back of your throat, eyes falling on you as you give him one last lick before swallowing everything that’s in your mouth.
“Holy shit,” he breathes out pulling you up, eagerly kissing you without a second thought, his hands cupping your cheeks to keep you in place. “You surely know how to kill a man, yea?” he huffs making you chuckle.
“Think you can go for a second one?” you sheepishly ask, blinking up at him from under your long lashes.
“I’ll have enough time to recover while I eat you out like you’re my last meal,” he bluntly replies, and a moan almost slips from your lips.
“Show me what you got, Styles,” you challenge him and he doesn’t need more, he easily picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he heads straight to the bedroom.
“As you wish, Angel,” he mumbles against your skin, peppering your neck and shoulder with featherlike kisses along his way until he throws you to his bed, ruthlessly tearing the remaining of your clothes off your body.
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misskathcake · 2 years
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"Show your Bunny that you love him so-oh-oh.." - Chapter One
The First Cup of Hot Chocolate 🎄
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- Story Masterpost for the other chapters
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Last minute Christmas plans are rubbish.
“Absolute rubbish”, Sophia mutters begrudgingly to herself, knuckles rubbing at her eyelids in an attempt to brush-off remnants of her jet lag still lingering in her system.
Her tiredness takes a sudden step back as she begins to make her way down the narrow stairs of the very familiar bungalow, a small smile appearing on Sophia’s face. She’s missed this homely, quiet, and cozy atmosphere. Celebrating Christmas here would definitely not be a complete bummer if only she had known that beforehand.
It had been established for months already that Sophia would be celebrating the holidays in sunny Australia after securing a month-long job in the country down under. As a sought-after freelance hairstylist to both the stars and your regular nine to five working individuals, Sophia is a regular jet-setter who’s always on the go around the world, accepting clients here and there. That’s why, it made perfect sense for Sophia to use her busy work schedule as a basis on why she was going to spend her holiday in Australia, despite being a lover of the cold winter weather that the summer season of Christmas in Australia will not be giving her.
Sophia’s justification of deciding to swim and party away in Brisbane instead of visiting the Winter Wonderland at Hyde Park in London, was not questioned by her parents or her best friend’s mother. Said best friend is the only one who had been suspicious of Sophia’s sudden desire to not alone spend the jolly season not asking in the chilly weather, but to also spend it alone, all by herself, for the first time.
Well, Sophia might have seen that one coming since she would like to believe that her best friend knows her well-enough, inside and out, considering that they’ve known each other at the young age of seven.
Sophia and Harry actually met during the Christmas season as well. How they met in that one Christmas market in Cheshire that now holds a dear place in their hearts, will have to be another story for another time. Sophia doesn’t have the brains, and is genuinely too jet-lagged to ponder that too fond of a story when all she wants to do is be a grump and explain why last minute Christmas plans are shit.
So long story short, Sophia and Harry are the type of best friends that are attached to the hip, to the point where each year they alternate on who gets to join the other’s family and spend Christmas with them just to be able to have the entirety of the holiday season together.
It’s public knowledge that as an international popstar turned rockstar, Harry Styles himself is a very busy man riding private planes to this country and that, to perform his little heart out in every sold out stadium or arena concerts he’s blessed to have earned. Harry’s current tour in America became a strong selling point for Sophia to argue her stand of spending her Christmas alone in Australia.
Harry’s a very doting best friend who would take it upon himself to ensure that Sophia is never too tired, too stressed, or too busy, regardless if that means he’ll purposefully tell Sophia that she can’t go to his concert because she’ll get too tired travelling and he doesn’t want that. With that being said, Sophia is also equal parts caring to her best friend, making her argument of not wanting Harry to travel to London and tire himself out just to spend Christmas with her, and then fly to America once again to continue his tour.
That last part, had been Harry’s breaking point in finally agreeing to her wishes despite that this year was supposed to be his turn to join Sophia and her family to whatever Christmas plans they have in mind. Sophia still remembers the adorable saddened pout Harry had given her over their FaceTime call, almost falling for his widened green eyes giving her the best wounded puppy look.
But Sophia had held her resolve, had stuck to her excuse of being too busy and not wanting her best friend to be worn-out when deep down, she knows that not exactly the case why. It’s for her own good anyway, is what she constantly reminds herself every time a single thought of wanting more decides to pop in her head like a traitorous air of hope.
It had honestly been fine after that. Sophia discusses with Harry her plans of attending a small Christmas party in one of the beaches in the Gold Coast that a few of her local Australian friends have invited her over. While Harry had shared his simple plan of spending the holiday with Anne who had flown to the US to watch and support her son in his last few shows for the year.
The shipping of Christmas gifts was being discussed when the two had found out that Anne had apparently made Christmas plans with a bunch of her friends, essentially leaving Harry alone during the festive season. Unlike Sophia, Harry cannot fathom spending Christmas by himself, and everything was clearly exhibited when he had called Sophia totally forgetting about their vast time difference, to almost sob his woes of being lonely during the most wonderful time of the year.
According to Anne, she had thought that Harry was going to fly to Australia to spend Christmas with Sophia, and that when she had asked Sophia’s parents, the latter had thought of the same thing despite their daughter phoning them just a few days earlier to explain her wishes of spending this time of the year by herself. Sophia had honestly almost felt offended when she reminded this to her parents, the two had only shrugged their shoulders saying it was impossible for her to not cave-in and ask for Harry to fly out.
Why they think she’s that soft for Harry is beyond her, but she does groan to herself when she realizes that she really is, too soft for her best friend when she instantly agreed to change her Christmas plans to be with him. Just to erase that offending frown and clouded gaze of upset in Harry’s gorgeous green irises.
And there she was disregarding every encouraging word she had given herself to stop wanting more.
Thankfully, that had been the last thing in Sophia’s mind as Harry and her spent the last week before Christmas having meetings with a local, well-known interior designer in Cheshire to spruce-up and make Harry’s family bungalow in Cheshire to be in a good Christmas shape as they finish their prior engagements in both the US and Australia.
Sophia is not a total liar alright, she really is quite busy during the month of December so despite her initial annoyance and dislike for not being the one to decorate the bungalow, she had reluctantly conceded in the end. Not liking the idea of possibly celebrating Christmas with Harry with nothing festive but a single Christmas themed printed napkin because they’re so late in the game of buying decorations.
It may or may not be also because of Harry’s dimples and all-too clever pleading puppy eyes of his that made Sophia agree, but that’s neither here nor there if anyone asked her.
So here she is now on Christmas Eve, regretting ever falling for Harry’s adorable face after the head designer has said they would put a little Christmas village on the table in the opening walk-way of the bungalow like that alone made his holiday the best time already. Sophia’s definitely regretting it when said Christmas village is colored white, like every single decoration in the bungalow.
When the two had said they wanted to make the bungalow feel really festive and they like the feel of a white Christmas, Sophia had definitely not pictured it to be this pristine white everywhere, it’s as if the only thing missing is freaking real snow for the bungalow to really embody a white Christmas.
Thankfully it wasn’t actually snowing despite how much fun it would be to make a snowman with Harry, because the latter would surely be idiotic enough to bring heaps of snow from outside to the inside of the bungalow to really make his miniature Christmas village really experience snow.
The first thing that came to Sophia’s mind upon arriving back in England two days ago and seeing the white Christmas theme of the bungalow, is that, ‘Oh boy, Harry’s clumsy arse would surely cause havoc in this white Christmas heaven.’ Though kept the thought on the back side of her mind as sleep called for her name that entire day, and the next day after that.
Sophia basically forgot to warn Harry about being extra careful when he arrives the night after her, and now she’s paying that debt seeing how Harry has already stained the white snow globe designed mat placed underneath the first step of the stairs.
Sophia would surely have a talk about Harry’s lack of care for his Gucci boots once he wakes up, since those mud imprints that have stained the mat are in the shape of said favorite footwear of his. Then she’ll make him clean the stain in the laundry room because Mr. Popstar is not excused from cleaning his own mess, not under Sophia’s watch.
Before that, Sophia really needs some food inside her. That's the only incentive that made her leave the confines of the cozy warm bed and her best friend’s naturally furnace-warm body that may or may not have been wrapped around hers ever since the boy had arrived from the land of the free last night. Bone-tired and only coherent enough to cuddle his best friend on their apparently now shared bed.
Day one of being reconnected and the simple entanglement of limbs has Sophia’s mind already whirling with thoughts of how she should treasure each cuddle Harry gives her before they part their ways again, leaving a deep longing in her bones to touch and be near her best friend.
More, always more.
Shaking her head, Sophia opens the fridge and the same kitchen cupboard where Anne keeps the bread away from her bread-crazy son, to pick her needed ingredients for today’s Christmas Eve breakfast. She feels comforted by the heated floors of the bungalow, the chilly winter England weather really permeates the confines of one’s home and Sophia’s fluffy dressing gown is not enough to combat the shiver it brings.
Basking in the rare quiet of a holiday morning, Sophia contently begins cutting an avocado in half before scooping off its shell and generously spreading it in two pieces of freshly toasted bread. She moves to the kitchen stove, humming quietly as she starts to fry eggs for their avocado toast, thinking of the best ways to wake-up a still sleeping Harry without provoking the jet-lagged, weary grump side of his.
As if being summoned by her thoughts, Sophia hears Harry’s familiar deep voice calling her pet name for her.
“Sunflower,” Harry says, voice much gravely in the morning due to its lack of use. It honestly does nothing but send tingles down Sophia’s spine at how pleasant it feels to hear him call for her in that deep timbre.
“Hm?” Sophia hums in reply, trying to tamper down the smile persisting to spread in her sleepy face, knowing that Harry only makes his presence known by calling her pet name as to not startle Sophia’s easily surprised self.
She ultimately fails at her attempt, grinning widely upon feeling Harry’s strong arms wound around her body from behind. His similar state of being adorned in his own fluffy dressing gown, makes Sophia feel even warmer as Harry cuddles her tighter with his face dropping down gently on the crook of her neck, nose delicately nuzzling her cold-bitten skin.
“Why are you cold?” Harry questions in that same deep tone, nose brushing once again on the skin of her cold neck for emphasis, “And most importantly, why are you up already?”
Sophia slightly shivers at the warm breath Harry exhales for every question he has asked, expertly flipping both eggs on the pan before giving her reply, “First, I’m cold because that’s what happens when it’s winter in England, you’re just abnormally too-warm to notice that. And second, I’m up because I’m hungry.”
Harry lets out a little groan of displeasure, face burrowing deeper in the now warm skin of Sophia’s nape making her let out her own little sigh of comfort.
“It’s Christmas Eve, no teasing.” Harry grumbles almost childishly, “And you can’t use the excuse of being hungry as a justification for leaving me cold and lonely in bed. I didn’t even offer you the same horrible treatment by waking you up last night to greet me at the door like a polite host would do. Instead, I let you sleep and enjoy your dream land while you’re here neglecting me alone in bed, giving me no choice but to wake-up myself.”
Giggles never fail to erupt from Sophia’s chest every time she’s subjected to Harry’s dramatics, this morning is no different.
“Stop being a grump on Christmas Eve,” Sophia retaliates teasingly, free hand squeezing the arm Harry has resting on her stomach, “besides, you’re only telling half the story. I didn’t see anything stopping you from jumping on my cozy sleeping form last night, essentially waking me up from my peaceful slumber only to be held captive by your big and long limbs like you’ve been cuddle-starved for years.”
It’s Harry’s turn to let out deep giggles of his own, “Heyy..” he draws out in that adorable whine of his that’s got Sophia grinning from ear to ear, feeling his bottom lip poking out and resting smoothly at the side of her neck.
“Not being a grump, I’m genuinely just cuddle-starved because Jeff and Mitch are shit at it. Never can get them to mold their bodies to fit against mine perfectly like yours does. Plus, your point is unfair when we both know my body’s natural reaction when seeing you snuggled in bed is to join the party by smothering you with my powerful cuddles.”
What’s unfair in Sophia’s opinion, is Harry’s ability to easily say things like that of alikening Sophia to some sort of puzzle piece that is the only perfect fit to Harry’s body when cuddling as if saying shit like that doesn’t cause Sophia to spiral down in her thoughts on what the extent of those words mean.
Further hearing that it’s instinctual for Harry to cuddle Sophia’s sleeping form, shouldn’t be a surprise since they’ve slept and snuggled in the same bed thousands of times already since they were young. It’s only surprising this time around, because Sophia is treading the fine line of being content in her best friend's arms at night or wanting to tip the edge of their friendship to pine and find more.
Those thoughts are heavy on a normal day, for tired and travel-worn Sophia, it's even much worse.
Sophia sighs instead, turning the stove off with her eggs now cooked, head slightly tilting to press her forehead on Harry’s sleep mused curls as the latter remains burrowed on the crook of her neck.
“Well, my body’s natural reaction when it’s hungry is to eat itself and I don’t think that’s particularly healthy.” Sophia feels relieved that her change of topic isn’t noticed by Harry, the boy holding her close just chuckles heartily, vibrating the two of them in light happiness.
“So, why don’t you go make our cuppas while I finish preparing our avocado toasties?”
Sophia’s request is met by Harry’s lips placing a gentle kiss on the side of her neck, squeezing her body once before letting her go and walking a few feet away in the small bungalow kitchen to prepare their cuppas.
Despite Sophia's conflicting emotions, everything feels easy around Harry now that they’re back in each other’s presence. It’s always been like this is the thing, the two of them working in sync seamlessly even weeks of being apart from each other. That’s why they’re best friends really.
Sophia can prepare their breakfast just the way they like it, chili flakes on top of her avocado toastie, and a few drizzles of Sriracha on Harry’s. Harry on the other hand, can make a mean cuppa perfect for their own taste buds, fetching a pitcher of milk for him, and a little jar of honey for Sophia without prompt.
Sooner than later, the two of them simultaneously take a seat in front of each other at the small breakfast table. Their space is quite sparse to the point where when they sat down at the same time, Harry’s shin hits Sophia’s own under the table, shaking the both of them in surprise together with their food on top of the table dangerously moving.
“Harry, careful.” Sophia gently chastises, Harry sheepishly apologizing while helping her fix their thankfully intact and non-spilled food.
“Sorry,” Harry repeats, carefully sitting down on his chair this time around, “I forgot that mum didn’t change the furniture in the bungalow despite my sudden growth spurt years ago. God, I forgot how much of a gangly giant I feel around here.”
Sophia joins Harry’s giggles, eyes suddenly locking at each other as Sophia watches Harry’s joking smile turn to that of fondness, her insides melting like the non-existent Christmas snow.
“Good -” Harry cuts himself off, head turning to check the time at the wall clock, “afternoon, sunflower.” he chuckles, shaking his head, “shit, it’s afternoon already?”
Sophia lightly laughs at the disbelief coating Harry’s question, “Yup, so I won’t even be surprised if you’re just as hungry as me. Good afternoon to you too, bunny.”
Her greeting makes Harry perk-up from his seat, head moving forward to hers with his pink lips placed in a pout, eyes soft and looking expectantly at her. It barely takes Sophia a second before she’s meeting Harry in the middle with her head tilted as she offers her temple for him to kiss in greeting, Sophia’s nose brushing against his delicately in the same natural ease before the both of them return to their own seats starting to dig their own plates of brunch.
It’s a thing they’ve done a million times over like most other things innately unique to them.
Harry had first started greeting her with a kiss on Sophia’s temple when he was seven and saw Anne kissing her forehead every time they saw each other or part ways at the end of the day. A cherubic frowning Harry had gently grabbed Sophia’s face that one time, pink, chocolate covered lips smacking a loud kiss on her temple for the first time before proclaiming that no one else was allowed to kiss Sophia on her temple except for him.
Would you look at that, a possessive, jealous little shit even at the innocent age of seven. Not like Sophia’s complaining though, how can she when it’s one of the sweetest things that Harry and her only share and hold special to them with everything about their friendship being so public because of their careers.
She’s thankful that up to now, it’s deeply ingrained in them to greet each other in that way like nothing has changed. Like it doesn’t make Sophia feel different tingles when Harry reaches out for her to hold close in his broad body, to kiss her temple and let her run her nose against his, every time he’s about to head on stage.
So nothing has changed, nothing in Harry’s perspective at least.
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to head back to bed with me for a few more minutes?” Harry asks after swallowing his final bite of his avocado toastie, any traces of his egg missing as well. “I promise I won’t cuddle you too hard this time.”
Harry flutters his eyelashes at Sophia, trying to be coy and persuasive. It should work with how charming he is, but all Sophia can focus on is how ridiculous he looks with bread crumbs all over his mouth and drops of tea in the front of his dressing gown.
“You’re so messy, bunny,” She chuckles lightly instead, pushing the container of napkins towards Harry on the table, “and no pleading from you will destroy my resolve of having a productive Christmas Eve.”
“Sleeping is productive,” Harry counters, napkin now in hand slowly fixing himself, “we’re both travel-tired so it makes sense if we still need to sleep.”
“And then waste a perfect afternoon getting stuck in your strong, giant hold? Or worse, getting stuck in your unmoving hold with your loud, unrelenting snoring? I don’t think so.”
Harry throws his crumpled napkin at Sophia for her teasing, the two laughing when it hits her forehead and bounces to her empty tea cup.
“You're such a child, I swear,” Harry says around a smirk, “Everyone snores, get over it!”
“I’m the child?” Sophia laughs incredulously, “You’re the one throwing crumpled napkins at me like a child who can’t take the harsh truth.”
“I only threw one napkin!” Harry laughs, “Napkin, as in singular, not napkins which is plural.”
Not comprehending why in the world Harry is currently talking English grammar with her, Sophia gives her pearly white smile at him, saying, “Well it’s also our first, as in first singular, Christmas Eve together with just the two of us, no parents or siblings around. Are you going to take away my first Christmas Eve alone with you by holding me hostage in a cuddle like every single free time you have all year round?”
Harry’s joking aura leaves him after that, smile softening like earlier with his focus fixed solely on her, “If you put it that way, I guess I can cuddle with you some other time then.”
Sophia snorts at the way Harry answers like he’s the one being inconvenienced here. Any other time, Sophia would gladly cancel plans just to bask in Harry’s warm cuddles. But it’s Christmas time, and surely that shouldn’t apply to this time of the year when it’s kind of offensive how the universe is making Sophia choose between Harry’s loving touches or the amazing festivities waiting for her outside.
That’s just cruel.
“And,” Harry continues, stopping Sophia from cursing the universe for making her choose, “I already bought two tickets for the Cheshire Christmas Market, and special passes to the brand-new ice rink beside it.”
“Oh thank the lord,” Sophia actually sighs in relief upon hearing that, “I honestly thought we both forgot to book in advance and we’d have to waste an extra hour just to wait in line at the ticket booth.”
Harry whistles, “Look who’s sounding like a diva here. Can’t wait in line for an extra hour? Where’s the patient girl that waited with me in line for two hours at The Script’s concert years back?”
Sophia laughs at Harry’s teasing, and would gladly throw a used napkin at his head if she did have one, “That’s different!”
“Different?” Harry smirks, “Please do tell.”
“It’s different because we already had tickets, plus! It’s The Script, of course I’m going to wait patiently in line.”
“Ohh, special treatment I see.” Harry points out to be annoying, making the two of them laugh regardless, “So you’re telling me you’re not willing to wait in line for the seasonal goodies inside the Christmas market? Like not for Christmas special hot chocolate? The Christmas roast dinner? The mince pie? The cranberry sausage rolls?”
Sophia gasps, “Of course I’d wait for those! Who do you think I am? Some Grinch?”
“A diva Grinch who’s not willing to wait in line to buy a ticket to get inside the Christmas market.”
“I’m willing to wait! I just can’t stand crying babies and loud families waiting in line with me. It’s too noisy, which does not help with the already loud atmosphere that the Christmas season brings everywhere.”
It’s now Harry who gasps dramatically at her, green eyes wide and all, “A diva, and ungrateful for the Christmas loud excitement Grinch? Holy moly you’ve changed, sunflower.”
“Oh sod off!” Sophia says in an amused grin, “The only factor that might have made me change my views for waiting in line is because of you. My rockstar best friend who won’t let me wait for even a single second in any line of any of his shows ever since his humble boy band beginnings, until now that he's a full-blown rockstar performing with his tits out just because.”
Sophia’s smirking smartly at a cackling Harry. Sophia knows that he’s definitely laughing this hard because of her copying his ‘just because’ answer every time she asks why in the world he’s only wearing a sparkly fringe vest that costs more than a fully covered outfit that she can get somewhere else.
“Touché.” Harry relents after his laughter subsides, “I think that’s enough chatter for the two of us. All that laughing is making my head hurt, to be honest.”
Sophia gives him an understanding smile, standing up to get some vitamins from one of the kitchen drawers, getting two from the jar and handing one to a now sleepy grinning Harry.
“Drink those up, bunny.” Sophia instructs, “Have to get you out of that jet-lag or else I might be a total nightmare for you later on once all the Christmas kiosks are calling for my name.”
“You’re already starting to become a nightmare so why don’t you leave me here to fix our used dishes while you go get ready and finally leave my side for just a few minutes.”
“Bunny!” Sophia exclaims in faux offense, helping a chuckling Harry bring their used dishes to the kitchen sink, “You love my company, don’t lie.”
“I do.” Harry simply agrees, Sophia’s heart skipping a beat not expecting such an honest answer in their apparent bantering. “I love your company so much that I need to be preoccupied while you go get ready so I won’t miss you too much.”
Now how does Harry expect Sophia to leave his side after saying those words dripping with sweetness? How when Sophia wants to hear more, needs more all the time nowadays.
“You’re such a sap.” Sophia finds herself saying instead.
“Sunflower, you love it.” Harry smirks while placing the rubber gloves on his abnormally ringless hands because a dishwasher is not a thing he likes to use, grandpa.
Sophia rolls her eyes good naturedly, “I didn’t say anything,” she says, about to make her way back up stairs to fix up.
“Hey, sunflower,” Harry stops her from walking, Sophia turning her back to look at him with one eyebrow raised in question, “wear something Gucci or you're not allowed in my car.”
Sophia splutters a laugh, “You go try and fail to threaten me with that, while I go and call Mitch and Jeff and tell them you said they’re shit cuddlers.”
Sophia hears Harry’s honking laughter as she starts walking out of the kitchen again, the small bungalow allowing her to hear him say, ���It’s true anyway! I don’t know how Sarah and Glenne can stand being with shit cuddlers!”
And Sophia doesn’t know how to tell Harry that he’s right.
Every single friend or family member that she’d cuddle with, is shit at doing it compared to him.
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Harry and Sophia head out on the road not even an hour later after their brunch.
Harry smiles in triumph upon seeing Sophia emerge from the front door with her black Gucci Marmont bag slung across her fluffy white jacket and resting perfectly just above her tight, black leather trousers.
“Look who joined the party,” Harry smirks, now ringed hands smoothing his own brown Gucci coat.
“I’m only using this bag because none of my other smaller ones can fit your inhaler inside.” Sophia replies as the two of them enter Harry’s Range Rover, her hands instantly dialing up the heater system of the car while Harry takes control of their satnav to place the address of the Cheshire Christmas Market.
“Oh shit,” Harry mumbles, “I forgot about that prime thing, thanks sunflower for always remembering.” and because he’s a total sweetheart, Harry takes her cold hand in his to press a kiss on the back of it in thanks.
Only in thanks, Sophia reminds herself feeling grateful for the nth time in the duration of their entire friendship that she’s not the type of person that easily blushes. She’d for sure not be successful in concealing her feelings of wanting more if she did blush at every sweet thing Harry did for her. It would be so often that Harry would think they have to go to the A&E to get her checked because nobody is capable of blushing that hard for that long.
Thankfully her cheeks don’t get tinted pink that effortlessly, and that the next few minutes of their drive consists of comfortable silence between them, without Harry trying to spew sweet nothings here and there to an unknowing Sophia.
Until Harry opened his stereo and picked his chosen Christmas song for them to listen to.
Sophia feels her cheeks flush, not because it was a sweet song that Harry dedicated to her or something. Her cheeks are now tinted pink out of sheer shock and slight outrage.
“Is this ‘All I Want My Christmas Is You’ by Mariah Carey?” Sophia asks, metaphorically sitting at the edge of her seat waiting for Harry’s answer in complete concentration.
Harry turns his head out of the road for a second to look at her, eyebrow raising as he answers, “Yeah, the one and only Christmas queen Mariah C.”
Sophia gasps in complete appalled making Harry turn to her in shock at the noise she lets out, “What?! Why are you listening to this version of her song and not the one with Justin Bieber in it?”
That makes Harry erupt in laughter, laughing harder when he takes a look at Sophia’s eyes throwing daggers at him, “Are you serious? You really think I’d be listening to a Christmas song with Justin Bieber in it?”
“Excuse me?!” Sophia says in surprise once again, hand coming up to her chest in full effect of her startled emotions, “My all-time favorite Justin Bieber song is a Christmas one and it’s called-”
“Mistletoe, I know.” Harry cuts her off, “You made my ears bleed enough times while listening to it every bloody holiday, sunflower.”
Sophia huffs in indignation, “And I still don’t understand why it’s not yet your favorite JB song, nor your favorite Christmas song ever.” Sophia shivers to show her disgust at the still playing song, “I really need to play you more of my Christmas playlist to save you from these very inferior Christmas song selections.”
Harry snorts a laugh, attention focused on the road but eyes burning with amusement and clear mirth, “I’m really starting to question your song choices, sunflower. When the band took a break, you were the most excited for Niall’s solo music to come out. Not mine, your best friend since childhood, let me remind you.”
Sophia nonchalantly dismisses Harry’s statement with a wave of her freshly manicured hand, “Niall’s always going to be my blonde soul sister so of course, I’d be the most ecstatic for his solo music. Just to remind you, I was the first to hear his entire album before you, Louis, or Liam got the chance to listen to it.”
“Oh, I don’t need a reminder,” Harry rolls his eyes despite the grin visible on his side profile, “your explanation doesn’t even make sense. Niall’s not even a real blonde!”
“And you’re not a real baker either.” Sophia points out smartly, loving the way Harry’s jaw drops, eyes finally looking at her again.
“You’re being quite a menace on Christmas Eve, baby,” Harry says after regaining his bearings from Sophia’s witty response. “I’m not sure if Santa will appreciate your behavior right now.”
Sophia gives him a deadpan look, “Santa’s not real, bunny.”
“And you’re just further convincing me that you’re a Grinch.” Harry smirks at her on a red light, “A Grinch that likes an Irish leprechaun’s songs and a Christmas song of a Canadian maple leaf.”
Sophia guffaws from Harry’s completely ridiculous statement. His humor is something endearing, but difficult to grasp the first time around. Thankfully, she’s known the kid ever since the beginnings of his obsession with dad jokes. The dork actually asked Sophia’s dad for jokes and wrote it down in various pieces of napkin, then forgot to take with him the said napkin so the cycle repeats of Harry asking her father the same, literal dad jokes again and again.
“I’m inclusive with my choices of artists, what can I say?” Sophia shrugs her shoulders making Harry chuckle at her reply, “Now give me your phone so you can be inclusive with your Christmas songs as well.”
Harry doesn’t even offer a fight, easily handing Sophia his phone without even a second look at her. He just lets her be, eyes still focused on the road, not showing any signs of fear that his best friend might find something in his phone. What’s Harry got to hide anyway?
I don’t know, the self-deprecating side of Sophia’s mind supplies, a picture of his new romantic relationship partner as his lock screen?
Rationally, Sophia knows Harry won’t blindside her like that as the both of them pretty much tell each other everything. Maybe not the fact that Sophia is basically head over heels in love with her total dreamboat of a best friend. That's a really big thing that Sophia’s hiding so now she’s not sure if Harry’s hiding something that big too, like a new girlfriend or boyfriend he’s got stashed somewhere. Besides, ever since Love on Tour started, Sophia has become more conscious of limiting their time of interaction whether less shows to visit, or less messages and calls exchanged.
Their usual three times a day per-week FaceTime calls have been reduced to once a day per-week. People might still think that’s borderline too clingy, but Sophia’s proud of reducing their 18 FaceTime calls a week to that of seven. Plus, they’re not ashamed to be called clingy anyway because only a moron would think they aren’t.
The point is, their reduced interaction might have caused a little slip-up of some secret new beau and now Sophia is slightly freaking out in the passenger seat of Harry’s car, with the latter's phone clutched tightly on her hands holding the verdict to her sanity.
Sophia actually exhales a sigh of relief internally upon gaining the balls to open Harry’s phone, only to see the same lock screen photo that he’s had since before his sophomore tour started. She even swoons just a little bit, seeing her own smiling face in between Gemma and Anne as the three of them posed for Harry’s phone. Their necks are bared proudly, showcasing the personalized pearl necklaces that Harry had gotten them with their own names being spelled out by little beads at one side of the necklace.
Not only was this picture significant in terms of highlighting Harry’s little loving gift for his three girls, but the photo was also taken in the Italian holiday that Harry took them last summer.
Without saying much that would make Sophia weep in joy and appreciation for the man currently driving her to the Christmas market, let’s just say that their last holiday together had been really special and had caused some sort of epiphany for Sophia, way before the Christmas season began.
Anyway, back to the agenda at hand of educating Harry in being more inclusive with his Christmas song selections, Sophia opens the music application that Harry is using and quickly types out the specific song she was looking for.
Sophia is quite surprised that just as the intro of the song starts, no lyrics or whatever, just purely instrumental, Harry whips his head so fast in her direction that Sophia slightly feared for their safety in that moment since crashing into a car is not really part of her holiday agenda today.
“Why are you playing that song?!” Harry all out cries in surprise, eyes wide in disbelief.
Call Sophia shocked as well, “I’m surprised you even know the song without hearing the lyrics yet. Are you a secret Jonas Brothers fan and you’re just too shy to tell me? You know I won’t judge right? They’re basically my favorite boy band ever, well, after One Direction I suppose because I don’t want to hurt Niall’s feelings or anything like that.”
Sophia’s teasing makes Harry’s defined jaw drop once again. Usual doe-like eyes now turned into slits as he alternates his focus on the road and to her face filled with utmost chaff.
Shaking his head, Harry replies, “You of all people know that as a side effect of being in a boy band myself, I can’t simply listen to other boy band songs without cringing. So it’s kind of rude for you to assume that I listen to this song on the regular. But do you know what’s more rude than you thinking I listen to boy band songs, and for you valuing Niall’s feelings more than mine?”
Sophia bats her eyelashes in an annoying manner up at Harry’s smirking side profile, “What? May you please enlighten me?”
In perfect timing, they hit another red light which allows Harry to turn his body slightly sideward towards Sophia, with his full attention now on the girl. His hand reaches forward to cup one of Sophia’s rounded cheeks as he lowered his smirking gaze directly for her eyes to see.
“What’s more rude, borderline offensive actually, is that you pretty much abandoned your own country by giving your alliance to the music of not only the Irish leprechaun, but that too of the star-spangled, purity ring, wearing boys.”
Sophia does not know which of the noise of shock or the uproar of aughter that simultaneously erupted from her chest, was louder than the other from this ridiculously hilarious shit Harry is pouring out.
How he knows about that specific detail about the Jonas Brothers is beyond Sophia. She might have been a fan, but not that obsessed of a fan that she just had to gush that fact out to her best friend, a man who never liked boy bands to begin with. Sophia’s a very considerate best friend, alright.
With her cackling subsiding, Sophia lets out, “Why does it seem to me that your concern does not actually lie in the fact that they’re not British. But your problem is more-so regarding the purity rings.” Sophia then gasps with her hand covering her matte-pink lips, “Is this your odd way of asking me to get you one as your Christmas pressie from me?”
“Fuck no!” Harry’s quick and resounding tone and look of absolute horror, was even more hilarious than all he’s said this entire car ride. “Purity rings are absolutely fucking lame! And I bet you, they only used that tactic so they seem more approachable and good ‘boyfriend materials’ for their fans.”
Sophia is literally hyperventilating in laughter on the passenger seat, “Holy shit! You’re one feisty bunny right now, H! You can’t be bitter about your god awful, fashion choices of too preppy ‘American, good lads’ type of style just because that didn’t work out and the Jonas Brothers’ purity rings did. Besides, Nick Jonas has curls so that’s a definite selling point.”
Harry guffaws at that, one hand on the steering wheel while the other waves frantically at his hair, “Then what do you call this? I have curls too!”
“Well, Nick Jonas’ curls are way better!”
Snorting, Harry replies, “I mean, I don’t know if I can argue with that considering the state of my hair right now, proper bird’s nest I think.” he dishevels his growing chocolate curls atop his head even more, Sophia almost feeling cheated on that Harry’s driving and she can’t just reach over to do it herself.
The fact that it looks like nothing to a bird's nest is on the tip of Sophia’s tongue ready to give rightful appreciation to Harry’s curls. Except the latter opens his big mouth and erases any coherent thought on Sophia’s mind.
“If only I’ve gotten you to agree to become my hairstylist already, then I for sure would have way superb curls than bloody Nick Jonas.”
Sophia knows Harry is joking, well partially at least since they have been bantering for most of the duration of this car ride. But she also knows there’s some semblance of truth in Harry’s statement, never one to shy away from telling others his constant failed endeavours of convincing Sophia to join him on the road and become his hairstylist for every show or guesting.
In all honesty, it does sound rather brilliant. Sophia’s a celebrity hairstylist, Harry’s a popstar-rockstar-celebrity hybrid of an individual, and them being the bestest of friends who work seamlessly and in complete synch without the need to be prompted by the other to do this and that, does ring a perfect tune for a work plan.
Except life isn’t that simple, and not every seamlessly sounding working plan always ends up like the flawless tune of a masterpiece like Sign of the Times.
Sophia believes in the phrase: ‘don’t knock it, till you’ve tried it’ and has devoted time as Lou Tesdale’s assistant hairstylist during the Where We Are Tour back in 2014. It had been one of the best years of Sophia’s life; how can it not when she gets to spend the majority of her time with Harry just like the good ‘ol times before music and fans took the majority of her best friend away from her.
If you ask Sophia what then made her not want to be Harry’s hairstylist again years later when it seems that only good memories were garnered during the time that she was, well Sophia has a few answers that she uses to remind herself every now and again on why it’s just not a good idea for her sanity to join Harry on his solo tours.
Maybe because spending a lot of time with Harry developed some things in her heart and mind that were never there before?
Maybe she finally realized that being attached on the hip with Harry has some repercussions once she isn’t?
Maybe being with each other for months on the road without giving respective alone times because they just can’t physically and mentally be separated from one another, made Sophia realize how easily co-dependent they get?
Or maybe it’s the fact that Sophia doesn’t give a bloody fuck about all those reasons and just wants to live with it, with Harry, and kiss his face silly after he also realizes that he wants more in their friendship.
So that’s why it’s not a good idea. It can actually be quite dangerous for Harry if he has successfully persuaded Sophia to become his hairstylist, only to be mauled by her persistent, non-platonic, loving ways.
Instead, Sophia always answers using the safe route: ‘I don’t like to mix business with pleasure, and I’m not talking about sex you horny twat.’
Right now though, Sophia is not willing to go down that road and continue fighting for her stance amidst Harry’s very effective ways of persuasion. Add that to the Christmas spirit of giving, then Sophia is surely on the brink of saying ‘yes’ if Harry flat-out asks her to be his hairstylist now in his car.
Sophia just rolls her eyes at Harry like every time his annoying (handsome) face is too annoying she doesn’t even have enough words to describe how deeply annoying he is.
“I’ll only agree to your business proposal once you make me my Christmas song.”
“What?” Harry turns to her for a moment with a confused sheen on his face.
Sophia exhales, like Harry’s confusion is so not needed right now, “The Harries and I, especially me, bunny, have been waiting for you to release your own Christmas album, or even just a Christmas song.”
Harry lets out a surprised laugh, “Since when? I don’t think I’ve ever seen: ‘For Bunny to make me a Christmas song’ ever on your wishlist, sunflower.”
Sophia huffs, “That’s because I have no wishlist, dumby. And, I’ve been wanting for a Harry Styles Christmas album, or a singular song because you’re such a slow-moving grandpa when making one, eons ago! Like literally eons, bunny!”
Harry huffs in return, “Am not a grandpa, just a perfectionist. Plus, drop it with your ‘eons’ crap because I have seriously never heard you ask me to make you a Christmas song. You’re always playing the bloody Bieber song every holiday, that you wanting my own Christmas music is really far-fetched.”
“Well maybe I won’t be playing ‘Mistletoe’ that bloody often if you had dropped some Christmas songs already.”
Harry stays silent for a moment, the Jonas Brothers song already finished playing before he turns to look at Sophia with a grin and an upward quirk to his eyebrow, the latter mimicking his questioning smile.
“So you’re telling me that if I’ve made you a Christmas album, or even just a single Christmas song eons ago, then I didn’t have to hear the Bieb’s song every time the holiday season is in the corner, and you’d have agreed to become my hairstylist already for every single moment I need to get my hair done?”
“Yup,” Sophia simply nods, watching the way Harry’s beam of a smile seem to shine brighter like all his Christmas wishes have been answered already. Except it’s not.
“But,” Sophia continues, noticing the visible sudden stiffness in Harry’s smile, probably knowing that his dreams will be crushed in front of him at this moment. “that proposal of mine has already left town and went on holiday because you still have yet to give me a single Christmas melody this year.”
Sophia pouts in faux sympathy at the look of saddened protest Harry is giving her while trying to focus on driving, “It’s alright bunny, better luck next year. Now, I’ll just play ‘Like It’s Christmas’ by the lovely, previous purity ring wearing Jonas Brothers again. Maybe you can even get inspiration or valuable notes while listening to this that you can use for your future ventures in the holiday music genre.”
Sophia doesn’t even wait for an answer from Harry, pressing the play button once again on his phone.
When she doesn’t get any reaction from him in any form, Sophia sees it fit to take out her own phone and take a video of her jamming out to the song while also angling the camera to a poker-face, driving Harry.
It’s not uncommon for Sophia to exploit these simple and random moments that Harry and her have together to share with his adoring fans. The Harries are usually waiting to be blessed for such content every time news has spread that Sophia was currently with Harry spending time together.
Sophia doesn’t mind sharing some private moments of Harry and her out to the public, it’s the least she can do with how supportive and loving they are with one of the most important people in her life. Everything is dandy as long as said private moments are shared with her or Harry’s consent beforehand.
That’s why, thanks to Sophia, there are photos and videos of Harry circling the internet containing either a compilation of Harry burning his tongue for every soup he tries tongue-first before a show, Harry trying out the most ridiculous outfits every time they go shopping and end up purchasing it, losing his shit by carrying the nearest person beside him and jumping up and down in joy while a Packers game is playing on the telly, or a wine-drunk Harry in Italy convincing his mother that he was adopted and not her son because he’s so good at Italian that there’s no way he’s British.
Adding to that, is now a holiday themed video of Harry being a heartless Christmas Grinch by not dancing along to Jonas Brothers together with Sophia who’s singing her heart out. Complete with shoulder shimmies and bopping off her head every ‘woo woo woo’ the Jo Bros sing out.
And because it’s not a verified, Harries exclusive content if it does not containing Harry being the star of the show (fucking narcissist), Harry absolutely knocks Sophia of her feet in complete surprise as he suddenly sings along to Nick Jonas.
I can’t deny what I’m feeling inside
No matter the reason, no matter decision
My heart will keep beating, you better believe
That part is so fast and near the end of the song that all Sophia can do is watch her video back and laugh along with Harry at how polar their facial expressions were at that part of the clip. Sophia’s eyes and mouth were wide open like a literal deer caught in headlights, while Harry is absolutely feeling himself while hitting every note of the song perfectly.
“Look at your face!” Harry honks in laughter, pointing at Sophia’s phone screen as they’re waiting in line at the carpark entrance at the Cheshire Christmas Market, “It’s like you’re hearing Medicine all over again!”
“Shut up!” Sophia whines, giggles falling out seconds later, “I can’t believe you really are a secret Jo Bros fan! I knew it was suspicious that you have knowledge about their purity rings. Why didn’t you tell me sooner, bunny?!”
Harry simply groans. And because he’s always keen for dramatics, he also hits his head on the steering wheel.
You don’t even have to ask.
Of course, Sophia has got all that in video too! About to post it on the gram actually, you’re very welcome.
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“Hot chocolate first, or straight to the scrumptious cranberry sausage rolls?”
The excited tone in Harry’s voice is not lost in Sophia’s hearing despite their loud surroundings inside the Christmas market.
As expected, the Cheshire Christmas Market is filled with its usual Christmas magic, complete with bright lights in every wooden stand selling everything Christmas related. Families, couples, friends, or even single wanderers are talking merrily amongst each other, everyone basking in the delicious scents of every baking Christmas treat, a handful singing along to the non-stop Christmas tunes playing all around the market.
All Sophia can say is ‘Bloody hell, thank fuck I didn’t celebrate Christmas in Australia this year or I would have missed all these wonderful festivities. Screw my Harry Styles shaped pining heart and all that!’
But that’s not the answer to Harry’s question though.
“Bunny, hot chocolate first, of course. We can’t ruin our tradition, H.”
Harry giggles at the urgency in her tone, “Alright, my bad. Whatever you want, baby.” and then he winks at her, right hand extending towards Sophia with his palms up in invitation.
He just called her baby, winked at her, and now he’s giving her a free invitation to hold his warm hand?
So maybe Sophia should rethink her earlier statement of gladness that she wasn’t celebrating Christmas in Australia. This is one of those reasons why she even decided to celebrate Christmas alone in the first place. Harry Styles and his innately affectionate ways towards her is something she’ll easily get addicted to; always easy for her Cheshire boy.
Since it’s been established how soft she is for Harry, Sophia just bites her lip in an attempt to hide the grin trying to spread on her face and simply accepts Harry’s waiting hand as they close the gap between their fingers. Sophia’s smaller hand is enveloped tightly by that of Harry’s much bigger one, his tender touch never fails to anchor Sophia in the moment as the two of them make their way around the Christmas market, intertwined hands comfortably swinging in between them.
Winter is amazing because it means more excuses to get to cuddle an always sun-warm Harry. Christmas is amazing too because Harry and Sophia regain the child-like wonder they’ve lost whilst growing-up in the form of revisiting all the Christmas festivities they’ve enjoyed when they were seven.
But the most amazing thing is winter and Christmas in Cheshire.
Winter in Cheshire is cold enough that Harry makes it his own mission to always have an arm around Sophia, keeping her close to his side as they look around all the dazzling lights and jovially decorated stalls making sure her small frame is not lost in the crowds of eager people enjoying their own holiday.
Christmas in Cheshire is a festive time of the year where everyone else is busy enjoying time with their loved ones, that nobody even stops Harry Styles for a picture. No phone, camera or even wandering eyes pointed at every single thing he does.
Sophia loves Christmas in Cheshire.
She’s reminded of how much, as Harry and her finally found the stall who sells the best Christmas hot chocolate, the two of them falling in line eagerly.
“Large mug, or a small one?” Harry asks her when their turn was coming-up.
“Um,” Sophia thinks for a moment, eyes falling on the couple in front of them that had just received their order, “the big cup looks a bit much for me, but the small cup looks too little to be able to satisfy my hot chocolate craving.”
Harry chuckles, looking down at her with a knowing look, “So you’d end up just getting the big mug and make me finish whatever you can’t?”
Sophia smiles up at Harry brightly, she likes to think it’s bright enough that it competes with all the string of lights surrounding them as she expresses her gratitude in that glimmering beam of hers.
“I think I’d go with your idea. Aren’t you a smart one, bunny.”
Harry just chuckles at her, “Comes with experience, I think.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That I have enough experience with the ladies in my life who can’t finish the food and beverages they order so I finish it like the good son, brother, and best friend I am.”
It makes Sophia laugh, memories of Anne, Gemma, and her, all take turns to give their leftovers to Harry. Might it be on a holiday or a regular Sunday roast at the Twist’s residence, with Harry’s frown and unpleasant pout greeting them each time. It’s funny because Harry first acts like it’s offensive to him that they can’t finish the delicious dishes they have in front of them, only to gobble it all up so quickly like he just inhaled all of it. And then he seeks Sophia for cuddles because his now bloated tummy has made him feel quite poorly.
Just like her music choices, Sophia is also inclusive with whatever type of cuddles Harry is in the mood for.
She tells Harry exactly just that, receiving a smirking grin in return. “Sunflower, you better.”
Sophia scoffs, ready to berate his slightly entitled response. Except the Christmas Eve gods seem to be on her menace of a best friend’s side as the line for the hot chocolate had moved and it was now Harry’s turn to give their order.
Ultimately, Sophia forgets what she was even going to bite back, attention now enthralled by the steaming blue cups of hot chocolate on Harry’s massive hands. Sophia knew there was an actual purpose on why his hands are abnormally large: to carry both their hot chocolate as she waits on a wooden bench for him to sit beside her.
“Careful, baby. It’s really hot.” Harry gently warns her, cautiously handing the large cup in Sophia’s waiting hands. “Oh, here’s your candy cane.” he carefully drops one in her cup, the classic white and red striped holiday candy resting perfectly at the side of her mug.
“Thank you, bunny.” Sophia simply says, blowing on the very much wanted hot beverage on her cupped hands, enjoying the sweet smell of the drink as she wafts the steam it let out. The smart decision was to bring woolen gloves, but Sophia doesn’t think it goes well with her chosen outfit for today, nor will it allow her to use her phone in documenting this special day with Harry.
The two comfortably sipped on their own hot drinks, eyes and ears leisurely taking in their vivid surroundings, from the loud chattering and laughter of people, to the sparkling Christmas decorations in every corner of the market.
“So, what’s our game plan for today?” Sophia turns her body sideward to ask Harry.
Harry takes one last sip of his hot chocolate before replying, left hand individually counting his next words.
“Christmas special hot chocolate, check!” Sophia giggles around her warm cup at the way Harry even does a hand motion of a check sign before continuing his list, “Christmas shopping, have a much deserved break with the glorious cranberry sausage rolls, go to the ice rink, have a Christmas Eve dinner after, and then the massive tree lighting as our last activity.”
Sophia whistles, “Well don’t you got our day all planned out already, Mr. I-Can’t-Survive-Without-An-Itinerary-Thanks-To-My-Manager-Jeff Azoff.”
“Heyy..” Harry pouts, the melted white fluff of marshmallows on their sweet and creamy drink coating his lips, “I just like to be prepared and Jeff has nothing to do with my immaculate planning skills.”
“Alright,” Sophia concedes, naturally reaching out to thumb away the mess on Harry’s lips, “what are we going to shop for then? What stalls are we visiting?”
Her highly expectant tone makes Harry stick out his bottom lip even further, “Well I’m not that prepared, for heaven's sake. You have to ask Jeff to plan-out our Christmas Eve if you wanna be that specific, can’t answer your question, sunflower.”
Sophia giggles, wiping her own chocolate-stained lips from the little napkin that came with their drinks, “Then what general thing can you tell me about our shopping trip? We can’t just be roaming around without definite items in mind, that would take us the entire afternoon.”
Harry shrugs, holding his empty mug on his thigh, “All I know, is that we’re going to shop until we drop, literally. Like, we’re not going to stop shopping around kiosks until that bloody ball in Times Square drops.”
Sophia almost chokes on her drink in laughter, “What the fuck are you talking about?” Harry doesn’t offer her any response except for a smirk, his now free hands rubbing circles on Sophia’s back to soothe her startled state. “Bunny, we’re not in New York, and you're referencing a wrong holiday. The ball drops on New Years Eve, not Christmas.”
Sophia’s explanation is left on deaf ears, Harry shrugging his shoulders before letting out more shit.
“Whatever. All I know is that the Cheshire Christmas Market can ransack my wallet for whatever holiday themed item they bring to my face that may tickle my fancy. Have to get some use out of all the tips I got from my sold out stripper shows in Madison Square Garden at some point.”
“BUNNY!” Sophia screeches, eyes automatically widening as she looks around to see if anyone had been disturbed by her outburst while Harry does his honking laughter like the absolute menace that he is.
“You’re face!” Harry wheezes out, bending himself in half in total hilarity, “Fucking hell you’re face looked so fucking hilarious, I can’t!” and he continues to lose his breath in laughter despite Sophia rolling her eyes at his childish antics.
“You absolute shit!” Sophia says, amusement not hidden in her tone, pushing Harry’s still shaking shoulders just a bit because he deserves it, “Who wouldn’t be surprised and appalled at your casual tone while saying, sold out stripper shows at the MSG? There’s bloody children around you, H!”
Harry sits straight back up again, laughter have subsided to those of his dimpling cheeky smile, Sophia already having an inkling that whatever comes out next from his mouth will only be just as demented as his previous utterance.
“You saw my tits out for most shows, how can that not be near a stripper show?”
Sophia shakes her head, trying not to laugh at the continuous absurdity coming from Harry’s beaming face, “Bunny, I really can’t comprehend how you think sometimes.”
Harry’s response was quick, “I also can’t fathom why no one handed me some cash on any of my shows when I both had my tits out, and my fly open on some nights sunflower. That's just not fair on my part. I don’t feel appreciated enough, honestly.”
And Sophia truly has no idea what to say to that.
Has no idea how the two of them ended up from talking nonsense shit while sipping their hot chocolates on the bench, to buying absolutely unnecessary Christmas items like Harry had said earlier.
Sophia would blame that fact on Harry, a hundred percent with her index finger even pointing at him for emphasis.
The first few stalls they walked hand-in-hand to, had honestly been quite good and the items they purchased had some definite purpose for it. Harry had first walked her to a kiosk selling ugly Christmas sweaters and Sophia’s not just saying that to be discriminatory at the shop, it was really their branding and no one can tell her otherwise if they also see all the hideous looking knitted jumpers plastered in front of their stall for everyone to see.
Sophia never understood the tradition of wearing ugly Christmas sweaters for the holiday, always believed that you should look and feel the best in the most special time of the year. But she guesses, others like Harry who instantly asked the seller to fetch him the most garish out of all the jumpers, find some sense of enjoyment or jollification in partaking in this odd activity.
Sophia thinks she’d let Harry buy the two of them the worst from all the selections because her Christmas gift for him can compensate for the ugliness of the Christmas jumper. As for her, Sophia lives in dressing gowns every Christmas day (except Christmas dinner obviously, she has some sense of shame alright) so she thinks she’s good to go.
The next stall they visited was filled with varying scented candles in their own jars with their little aesthetically pleasing labels indicating what type of Christmas scent they are. Sophia and Harry had made a joined decision of buying a classic balsam and cedar scent, a sugar Christmas cookie scent, and one that’s labeled Christmas Eve because their noses had gotten clogged already from all the different fragrances that they just got that one for the sake of lighting it tonight once they got back to the bungalow. In Sophia’s smart opinion, they needed these scented candles to complete the Christmas ambiance in their current winter wonderland (still too-white) haven.
The next stalls they visited after that, Sophia can say that Harry and her have been complete idiots about even purchasing anything that’s remotely necessary. Though to remind you all, Sophia blames Harry on the next unfortunate shopping incident and takes no part in it all after realizing she can’t stop him from really emptying out his wallet.
The first piece was a tree topper in the shape of a star. Not just a star though, but a star tree topper made out of paper mache bananas.
Harry breathes and lives bananas so it was expected of him to gravitate towards the ridiculous item upon seeing it. What’s unfortunate really, is that the banana star was doused in glitters.
“Bunny, we’re not getting that. We already have a tree topper.”
“I’ll just take it off then. Do you see this masterpiece of a tree topper I’m holding?”
“Yes, it’s literally a star made out of paper mache bananas.”
“Now don’t give me that tone just because you don’t like the fruit. Honestly, I don’t even know why we’re still friends after I learned you hated bananas.”
“Excuse me? Are you seriously throwing away all the other amazing qualities of our friendship just for a bloody banana?”
“No..but I am for this glittery banana tree topper.”
See? Harry can’t be stopped after seeing something banana, and with glitters!
So when Harry picks up a doormat in the shape and design of a gingerbread house, Sophia just knows the rest of their shopping trip is only going downhill from there.
“I don’t think I have to tell you that we also have a doormat already. Didn’t we just use it before we left?”
“That’s outside the bungalow, this one is for the inside right after you enter the front door.”
“Then what did the bloody doormat outside the front door do then if the soles of the shoes still remained dirty needing ANOTHER doormat right after you just used one.”
“I don’t know, sunflower. I’m not a freaking doormat so I don’t know what their job entails. All I know is that the candies on this gingerbread house doormat is glittered so I’m getting it.”
The third item that Harry insanely purchases is a set of teaspoons with little gingerbread men, Christmas trees and stockings on top of the end of the spoon. It had no bananas in it, and no glitters, so it was only appropriate for Sophia to ask why he was getting it.
“I’m well aware that you already know that Anne has stocked us with some teaspoons in the kitchen, so I’m not going down that route. But those teaspoons have no bananas or glitters in them so why are you getting these nonsensical items this time, bunny?”
“Funny you say that, because this time we actually need some teaspoons in the bungalow to begin with.”
“No we don’t. Anne has her fine China set of cutleries, which includes teaspoons, that you gave her that one Christmas. Those are far more immaculate in quality than those you’re holding.”
“Well they’re also far more delicate than these babies I’m currently holding so it’s kind of no surprise that I bloody broke a few of them last night when I was trying to make myself a cuppa before heading to your bed.”
“Harry Edward Styles, you are dead to your own mother.”
And Sophia gladly reminded Harry in every teasing opportunity she got. Except that she didn’t think beforehand that it would actually work, and the next thing she knows, Harry is guilt-shopping while holding boxes of Christmas themed napkins.
“Bunny, I was just joking. I’m sure Anne wouldn’t mind that you broke some of her teaspoons.”
“Well that doesn’t help from making me feel better. So sunflower, just give me your opinion if I should get the napkins with different hot chocolate cups as its print, or the one with cats in adorable Santa hats.”
“Bunny, really I don’t th-”
“Baby! Please, just choose one? I promise it would make me feel not guilty anymore once you tell me your suggestion.”
“I mean.. Anne loves kittens so maybe the second option?”
“You’re absolutely correct, thanks for the valid input, sunflower. Now let’s head to the till and pay for this and then I’m going to look for an expensive tea set that can go with these napkins that will for sure make my mum forgive me.”
If there was no stopping Harry in the beginning, Sophia just shook her head in incredulity as she watched her best friend pay for the most expensive Mrs. Clause themed tea set she has ever seen. I mean seriously, the Mrs. Clause teapot made her look like a bloated balloon with her head as the lid of the pot, and her entire body as the body of the teapot. The worst feature for sure is that they made her nose as the spout of the pot. Who has a nose that long? And you can’t say Pinocchio either like what Harry answered when Sophia asked.
It was honestly just an unattractive tea set in all regards, Sophia doesn’t think Harry’s purchases can get anymore ridiculous than that.
Or so she thought.
The last ‘significant’ out of all the nonsensical rubbish Christmas items that Harry got, is a large box containing a dozen elves, a dozen gnomes, all wearing Christmas themed jumpers and comfy looking trousers. Some of them even hold gifts, cups of cocoa, a Christmas stocking, and Harry’s favorite: an elf holding a plate of a full Christmas roast.
“Now this is simply just your worst purchase of the day, bunny. I’m going to save my own sanity by not asking why you’re getting this..this..abomination of eerie Christmas rubbish.”
“Sunflower, don’t go calling them eerie, they’re beautiful.”
“Since when did the faces of elves and gnomes were classified beautiful?”
“Baby, it’s all about ‘unconventional beauty’, in my opinion. Regardless of that, I think they’d look perfect in my Christmas village set at the bungalow.”
“What? So that’s what this is for?”
“Yes. My Christmas village needs some sort of life in them, sunflower. That white Christmas ambiance of my miniature Christmas village can’t be wasted.”
“So you thought of buying a dozen each of elves and gnomes that can play the part?”
“Yup, precisely! Aren’t I clever?”
“The fuck?!”
What was Sophia thinking, really?
Regardless if she asks or not, her sanity will still not be in good shape when it comes to the wild character and immensely odd choices of her best friend.
The girl needs a break is what it is, and she’s hearing the cranberry sausage rolls calling her name even from far away.
There’s no way she can continue shopping with Harry, much less waiting for the ball to drop on New Year's Eve like the latter crazy boy had wished for.
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stylesberries · 3 years
Note
famous!reader headcanon maybe ?? 🥺🖤
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I’m getting into this headcannon thing it’s so refreshing. Thank you so much for your request dear💗 Let me see where we can go with this.
You and Harry probably met at some after party or something.
Knowing him, he probably came up to you first to greet you and have a small talk with you about what you do and how much of a fan he is of yours.
To which you would probably say the same about him, so you both stand there blushing.
So cute.
He would try not to come off as too pushy or weird and would only ask for your number after a couple more times you meet again at those same after parties or award shows.
He wouldn’t ask for your number head on like that, he would definitely invite you to one of his concerts and give you his number in case you struggle to get in or find your seats.
His goal was for you to call or text him of course.
After the concert he would find you and lead you to his dressing room to chat after he changed into his usual clothes.
You would chat there for over an hour before the management of the concert hall politely kicked you out.
Harry invited you to his hotel room to continue your discussion in hopes that you weren’t busy of course.
He got lucky, so you continued your conversation there.
As time went by, you and Harry got closer and closer and eventually became a couple.
Knowing how obsessive the media was towards celebrity couples you kept your relationship secret, which only drew more attention towards you but that’s a whole another story.
You and Harry exchanged schedules to always know when your day offs intersected to plan beforehand what exactly you’ll be doing on that day.
Harry would always come over to your house with your favorite snacks to munch on while you watch his favorite rom-coms together, not really paying attention as you missed each other way too much to do so.
After your relationship became known to the public, Harry would always make sure to shield you from annoying paparazzi and make sure everyone respected your personal space.
The red carpets would be a blast with Harry’s sense of style. You would always be the couple everyone looks forward to see as your outfits would always be the most extravagant ones of all.
Harry wouldn’t openly kiss you in front of the whole world as he believes it’s something intimate between you two, but he would definitely whisper sweet compliments into your ear while you both smiled for the pictures.
The pictures would still capture the way he looked at you, which couldn’t be more gentle and full of adoration.
I hope you liked it and I could reflect at least a fraction of what you imagined in your head 💗💗💗
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204 notes · View notes
thiswasinevitableid · 3 years
Note
93. I hire your matchmaking services but all the people you set me up with are horrible and I’m demanding a refund and you’re asking me for one more chance??? what are you going to do? be my date?
Indruck, nsfw, please!
Here you go! I was inspired by @kriskukko's incredible art for the orc designs in this, and I highly recommend checking them out!
“Indrid? Some from Kepler House is here to speak with you.” Ned pokes his head into Indrid’s rooms.
“Drat” Indrid hisses, dressing gown whipping about him as he scrambles to put the apartment in order while also dragging his notes on the man in question to the forefront, “I didn’t forsee anyone coming by today, goodness, he had his first engagement with Lady Austens daughter last night, what on earth could they need to see me for?” He tosses his spare pens aside, landing them in his second set of house slippers.
“Well, dear boy, given the luck you’ve had with them lately-”
“It’s not luck, it’s simply very unlikely futures. Please just, just stall whoever it is a moment, Leo is usually patient and-”
“I’m afraid I cannot do that my friend.”
“Why not? I watched you once talk an entire flock of constables away from your door. Praytell, why can Ned “Silver Tongue” Chicane not get rid of a single attendant?”
“Because the attendant ain’t here this time.”
Indrid slams the drawer of his desk, looking up as an orc in a deep brown suit steps into the room, tossing his hat onto the table. He’s shorter than Indrid and Ned (stout and strong, according to the notes Indrid received), wavy black hair streaked with grey at the front. One eye is blue, the other brown, and both regard the harried matchmaker with casual annoyance.
“Mr. Newton, I, ah, I was not expecting you to visit me.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be on a date where she found me so damn dull she hailed a cab as soon as dinner was done. I was already in town on some business for Minerva, so I decided to come tell you I ain’t in need of your services anymore.”
“I beg your pardon? Your benefactor employed me to find you a suitable match and I intend to do just that. I know there have been missteps, but such things are to be expected when searching for one’s lifelong partner.”
“Uh huh. And the fact I’m Lady Minerva’s chosen heir, which means there are a bunch of folks waitin to mimic my style and choices, has got nothin to do with it.”
“I, ah, I can’t say that I’m ignorant of the potential repercussions of being the one assigned to locate a spouse for you.”
“Which is the long way of sayin you know damn well that if I decide to stop askin you for help, no one with money is ever gonna come to you again.”
There’s a determined set to his rounded jaw, and a glimpse at the future suggests Indrid will have better luck with a different tactic
“....were they really so awful?”
“Yes. They were rude, or thought I was rude, or thought I was dull, or we just had fuck-all in common.”
“Have you considered you might just be a tad more demanding than average?”
“It ain’t demandin to want the person I spend the rest of my life with to actually like me.” He sighs, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cold, but unless you got a real winner up your sleeve, I’m done.”
All responses, all timelines show Duck ending his time as Indrid’s client and walking out the door.
“You could try me!”
“Really?” Duck looks deeply unconvinced.
“I will admit it’s unorthodox, but I, I foresee us having a perfectly nice time together. It will let me prove that I am capable of choosing companions for you.”
The shorter orc looks him up and down more deliberately and Indrid fights not to draw his dressing gown tighter. He will not be intimidated by some newcomer from across the sea.
“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I got to go to this concert tomorrow; someone from Kepler house is expected to show and Minerva is busy. You’re comin with me.” He holds Indrid’s gaze, daring him to renege on his offer.
Indrid summons his best, professional grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
---------------------------------------
Indrid smooths his waistcoat and jacket as he steps from the cab, tucks a strand of his silver hair behind his ear. It’s his only concession to the nerves skittering up and down his spine.
Gatherings such as these are nothing new to him; he goes to them to gather new information and new clients, to remind the well-to-do families of London and beyond that he is the matchmaker extraordinaire. But there is always the moment between when they see him and when they recognize him, when every face in the room wonders why someone like him dares to enter their space.
Somewhere in Indrid’s ancestry is a love story between an orc and a goblin. His silver hair, very angular features, and complete lack of tusks or fangs is the proof. The red eyes don’t help--they unsettle everyone who sees them--but his mother insists they’re evidence of other orcs gifted with rare magic on her side of the family. He wears red spectacles over them just to be safe; he rather likes how the color stands out against his skin, and his glasses let him avoid prying questions.
Duck is waiting for him under the awning outside the music hall; he’s in a grey day suit this time, looking just as understatedly handsome as he did yesterday morning. Indrid must admit his desire to save his reputation is not the only reason he agreed to this; he cannot understand why Duck is having such trouble meeting his match. He’s good looking, moneyed, American--an exotic background in the eyes of the average, sheltered upper-class orc--but still has family history here in England. All Indrid’s matches showed a high probability of success. The point of failure must lie with the orc himself.
“Afternoon, Mr. Cold.” Duck smiles with everything but his eyes.
“Indrid is fine, given the reason for our meeting.”
Duck nods. Indrid wishes the ground would swallow one of them up. When the pavement fails to oblige, he offers his arm. The shorter orc takes it, both of them doffing their hats as they step inside.
“I, uh, like the earring.” Duck indicates the moth cuff on Indrid’s left ear, a stark contrast to the single gold hoop in his own.
“Thank you. A friend gave it to me. I, ah, I rather enjoy working moths into my wardrobe; I find them fascinating.”
“Y’know, back home we got moths that look like hummingbirds.”
“Really?” Indrid’s ear twitches, “how big?”
Duck holds up his hands to indicate the size. Indrid is about to demand details when they’re waylaid by their hostess and pulled into a cluster of families. Indrid breathes deep, feeling crowded in, and notices Duck routinely being cut off in conversation or given disapproving looks behind his back. Yes, Indrid supposes his manners are a bit rough, but there’s no harm in that. Too, everyone seems far more interested in the goings on at Kepler House and with Lady Minerva than with Duck himself. By the time they’re seated, their arms feel locked together from shared tension.
The violinists are quite good; Indrid enjoys strings, his recordings of them being his favorite music to listen to while drawing. But his mind is so consumed by futures and by thoughts about the orc beside him that he struggles to focus on the music. Duck is having a similar issue, though he hides it well; were they not side by side, Indrid would miss the way he fidgets with the knee of his trousers.
“Are you alright?” He whispers under the applause.
“N-ye-uh. Fuck. I, the musics real nice but I gotta say I’m gettin kinda bored. But I got no fuckin clue if leavin will piss everyone here off.”
“Intermission is soon. When it comes, keep quiet and follow my lead.”
When the guests rise to stretch their legs and fetch refreshments, Indrid guides Duck to their hostess.
“I’m so very sorry, but I’m afraid my stomach is rather angry with me and it’s best if I go home. Duck has agreed to accompany me so I do not pass out in the street. I’m sure you understand.”
She nods, and in a matter of moments they’re out on the street, each breathing deeply.
“Thanks for that.”
“My pleasure.”
“Guess I oughta just head back to the hotel.” Duck sighs.
“You could. But, ah, we’re not far from Kew Gardens and the weather isn’t miserably cold for once. If you’d like-”
“Hell yeah. Wait, fuck, sorry, tryin to swear less in public.”
“I don’t really mind.” Indrid starts them down the street.
“Lots of them do” Duck tips his head back towards the concert hall, “I mean, at least that rule is easier to figure out. It’s not that there aren’t weird rules and class stuff back home, but I grew up learnin them. Here I always feel like I’m one move away from makin an ass of myself. No one’ll say anything because of Minerva, but I know if it weren’t for her, none of ‘em would give me the time of day. It makes every interaction so goddamn stressful.”
Indrid twinges with sympathy, “When I first started in these circles, I wrote myself notecards and had Ned test me on them.”
Duck giggles, so absurd and loud it draws stares from passersby, “why? You seem to know your stuff.”
“I didn’t come from money, and I don’t always read social situations the way others expect. It was learn or live as a penniless artist for all my days.” As the gardens come into view he adds, “I know the basics of your life in America but if you weren’t here, what would you be doing there?”
“Workin in the Yosemite valley. I was a ranger there for a few years before Minerva called me here.”
“What was that like?”
Duck tells him as they wander the first stretches of the gardens. He’s midway through a tangent about bears when he stops.
“Holy fuck, you’re really still listenin.”
“Of course I am, this is fascinating.”
His companion smiles, “Glad you think so. But it ain’t polite for me to dominate the conversation like this. Now you gotta tell me what you do when you’re not gettin fancy folks together.”
“...You promise you will finish the story about the bear and the tent later.”
“You know it.”
Indrid knows that time passes more quickly with good company, but he’s still startled when the sun sets. The Savoy, where Duck is staying, is closer than his home, so their cab stops there first.
Duck pauses halfway out the door, “Meet me here for dinner tomorrow?”
Indrid grins, “I’d like nothing more.”
--------------------------------
“I didn’t know the line even went this far.” Indrid watches the moors race by them out the window of the train.
“You and me both.” Duck rotates his map, glances at the letter he received a week ago, “okay, once we get off at Amnesty, we need someone to take us down Greenbank road. The house is at the end of it, somewhere around here.” He taps a patch of moor miles from anything else. Indrid studies his fingers and is glad that, of his more rugged habits, one he elected to keep was letting his nails stay claws rather than filing them down.
“My visions suggest that as long as we don’t ask anyone to drive us out after dark, we should have no trouble reaching it.”
Indrid tries not to be too giddy at the prospect of spending weeks and weeks more or less alone in the countryside with Duck. They’re going because an anonymous note informed him that he did indeed have a family estate and--once they determined that the house near Dartmoor did indeed legally belong to him--it was decided he would go to see how the old place was doing and perhaps take up residence.
He asked Indrid to come without even glancing up from the telegram from the solicitor. Indrid agreed without looking away from his drawing. If two months of semi-courtship in a crowded city got them close enough for that, Indrid dares to hope that being out here together will bring them closer still.
Amnesty is small, as they both expected, the air chilly and fog threatening to swallow whole buildings as they make their way to the Lodge where they’ve been told they can find a driver. When Duck asks the young woman working the counter for help getting to Greenbank Hall, she quirks her lips in a frown.
“I’m not sure there’s even a place called that around here….OH! Do you mean Beacon House?”
“Maybe?” Duck looks at Indrid, who quickly looks at the futures.
“Yes, it seems we do.”
“Okay. Since it's still light, I should be able to find someone to get you out there. If it comes down to it, I can, like, drive you out myself.”
They end up being driven by a friendly young man named Jake, who deposits them and their bags on the steps of the massive house with a friendly wave farewell.
“Agh” Indrid shivers as they step through the newly unlocked doors, “I think it’s actually warmer outside.”
“No kiddin. Damn fog means it’s already gettin too dark to see too. I’ll go get some kind of fire started, you see if you can find some lanterns or candles so we ain’t trippin all over ourselves.”
Indrid begins his search, comes to the kitchen and finds some matches and a candle. The solicitor arranged for food and other supplies to be brought in ahead of time, so in theory lanterns should be somewhere nearby. He’s just glad that the paltry light shows no signs of rodents getting into their food.
When he gets upstairs, he discovers two things; one, all the lamps are gas, so he’s able to light them easily. And two, a mother tortoiseshell cat is nesting with her kittens on a guest bed.
“Well, that explains the lack of mice.”
Footsteps behind him, “Got a fire goin in the sittin room, if you wanna pick a room for yourself I can light one th--awwwww” Duck moves past him towards the cat, who hisses at him, “now, there ain’t any need for that, missy. I ain’t gonna hurt you or your babies. But we oughta bring you somethin more’n mice to eat.”
“I saw some tinned food in the pantry.”
“Perfect, lemme go find a bowl.”
----------------------------------
Beacon House has seen better days, but Indrid discovers the houses loss is his gain. Duck decides they can do many of the repairs themselves, and sets about ordering supplies from London or bringing them in from Amnesty. The few times they need help, the cook and several others from the Lodge come to assist in the project. These gatherings are far more pleasant than any Indrid had to attend for work (well, except for the ones where he was with Duck). And they always end before dusk.
Indrid occupies himself with figuring out why. There was no mention of this house when he first researched Duck, and even using the local name turns up very little. It’s not until he finds a diary belonging to one H. Newton in the library that he understands.
October the 15th, 1805
I fear the worst is upon me. I cannot leave the house, dare not even peer out the windows for fear of what I shall see. Lucy says it is my health, that we should travel to warmer regions so it will improve. But I know it is not so simple. Were we to flee, it would merely wait for our return. It may even waylay us before we reached town. I am cursed. We are cursed. We always will be.
Beneath the words is a hastily sketched image; yellow eyes and sharp fangs peering from between the bars of the front gate.
There are no more entries.
Indrid is unsure whether to raise the matter with Duck. On the one hand, he wishes him to know of any possible dangers. On the other, his friend is so very content these days, coming in from some project or other with grime on his skin and a smile on his face. Indrid’s own desire to stay with him here, in a house he can pretend is theirs, threatens to drown out all other reasons.
Eventually, his conscience shouts it down while he and Duck are on their evening walk.
“Oh yeah, Barclay told me about that a few days ago. Some ghost apparently wanders around the moor at night; got somethin to do with a murderous ancestor.”
“That does not alarm you.”
“You know I don’t believe in curses and destiny or anythin like that. People make up all kinds of stories when they’re alone in wild places.”
Indrid’s foresight guides his arm, gripping Duck and keeping him from moving forward.
“Does that look like a story?”
Directly ahead of them, a tor rises like a spike. Atop it, revealed by the rising moon, is a gigantic, fur-covered shape.
“See” Duck whispers, “were we back home, I’d say that was a bear.”
“And now?”
“Given there ain’t been bears in this part of the world in decades, I say we get the hell outta here.”
They take off back down the slope, the hall a collection of yellow squares of light in the darkening distance. A howl splits the air behind them and Indrid quickens his pace, keeps his eyes on the future in hopes of protecting them both.
This means he doesn’t see the burrow in the path until his ankle goes sideways in it.
“‘Drid!”
“Under no circumstances are you to try and help meAH!” He yelps as Duck swings him over his shoulder and continues his flight towards the house. As he’s bounced about, Indrid watches a glowing shape bounding closer.
“Thank fuck.” Duck crosses the gate, slams them closed, and lowers Indrid to his feet. Nothing glares at them from the path. But a growl creeps from the shadows and follows them until they shut the door.
------------------------------------------
“How’s the ankle?” Duck drops his coat on the chair opposite Indrid before tending to the fire.
“Better than yesterday. I should be up and moving tomorrow, if the futures are to be believed.”
“You know you don’t gotta rush. I’m happy to take care of you.”
Indrid picks at the ends of the blanket in his lap, “but I miss being able to aid you with work.”
“There’ll be lots of time for that. We got plenty to do to get the house to where we can live in it full time.”
“We?”
Duck goes completely still, then fails to put the fire poker back in place three separate times. When he finally meets Indrid’s eyes, he looks worried.
“‘Drid? What’s your endgame? With, uh, with me?”
“I…” Indrid grabs his teacup, intending to drink it to buy time and finds it empty, ‘I...I don’t know. I, I wanted to prove to you that I could find you a companion who made you happy, hoping you would give me another chance to locate your perfect match. But lately I, ah, I struggle to see that plan working. As I do not wish you to have any match but me.”
Duck moves across the rug, shadows on his face making it hard to read.
“I know that shows great selfishness on my part. If that is not something you wish to have in your life I, I…” he shrinks back as Duck leans down, certain this is the timeline where he accuses him of being a conniving monster.
“Funny you should say you’re bein selfish” Duck braces his arms on either side of the chair, “because I’ve been beatin myself thinkin’ I was selfish for keepin you out here so long.”
“Keep me here forever.” Indrid whispers. Duck smiles, closes the remaining space between them. His lips are still a bit chilly from working outside; Indrid does everything he can to warm them with his own.
The shorter orc straddles him and he whines so needily that Duck snickers in reply.
“What’s wrong darlin? Kissin too much for you?’
“On the contrary; it is far too little, but my injury means my ability to drag you to my bed and beg for more is greatly impeded.”
“Good thing we live alone.” Duck pulls the blanket from Indrid’s lap, nibbles his ear as the seer catches on and begins frantically undoing the buttons of Duck’s workshirt and shoving his suspenders. When at last he pushes it open he loses himself a moment, tipping forward to tongue at the golden ring in Duck’s left nipple.
“AHheh, gettin right to it. Good” Duck unbuttons his pants, “because I’ve been wantin to fuck you since before we even came out here.”
“Oh I see” Indrid purrs, “you lured me into the countryside to sully my virtue.”
Duck laughs, full throated, as his tusks catch in the firelight, “You forgettin the time we got drunk instead of goin to the opera and you told me you convinced two sailors to take you home?”
“Only if you’ve forgotten telling me about the young ranch-hand you gave several rides to” Indrid nibbles along his neck, his twitching oddly in their quest to grind against him without jostling his ankle.
“Not a chance. But I don’t care about reminiscin right now; right now, I got the best lookin fella in the world beggin for my dick.”
“I’m not begging.” Indrid tilts his head back to help Duck get his shirt open some.
“Not yet.” Duck grins, then shoves his hand down his trousers.
“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid reaches for him.
“Keep your hands on the armrests until I say you can move ‘em.”
“But, but” it’s hard to argue when he’s trying to stare a hole through Duck’s remaining clothes. His partner notices and makes a show of moaning louder.
“Only good boys get to watch the show. You gonna be good for me?”
“The best.”
Duck kisses the tip of his nose, then wiggles and kicks his pants and underwear off. Indrid can only watch, growing more envious by the moment, as he fucks himself open and rubs a thumb along his cock. Indrid tries bucking his hips, only to discover Duck is keeping himself out of reach.
“Cruel creature.” Indrid groans.
“Cruel? I’m giving you a seat to the best show in town.”
“I’d rather you take the best seat in town.”
Duck laughs, is still doing so when he bends to kiss him. Indrid whimpers, nails digging into the upholstery to keep his promise of good behavior. Duck notices.
“Good boy.”
“AHHHnnnthankyou, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Indrid moans as Duck drops his weight into his lap, grinding on his clothed cock with abandon. He flings Indrids hands up to his shoulders. The seer glides them up to his hair, burying them there where he’s now certain they’ve always belonged. Duck mirrors him, lips only leaving his to bite the tip of his ear.
“Fuck, Indrid, that’s it darlin, lemme ride you like the sleek little beast you are.”
He whines, loses his thoughts as Ducks hips quicken.
“I know ‘Drid, you like bein mine, like that I’ll bounce on this fuckin perfect dick as often as you want as long as you’re my good, sweet, ohsweetfuck, fuck, darlin’” Duck drops his forehead to Indrid’s shoulder with a groan as he cums, soaking the fabric of his pants. Before Indrid can think about stopping, Duck picks up again with as much force as before, growling in his ear to be a good little social climber and cum for his lord.
Indrid cums at that with a chirping sound he thought he’d stopped making long ago, legs spasming from the force of his climax. Unfortunately, this means his pleasure is chased by a burst of pain. He whimpers, flinches, and Duck spots the problem.
“Oh, oh darlin I’m sorry” He drops to the floor, rubbing Indrid’s thighs, “thought the position would keep you from hurtin.”
“Apparently not. I, I want you to know I don’t regret it in the slightest.”
Duck smiles, relieved, and rests his head on Indrid’s stomach, “Guess you did find me a match, huh?”
Indrid bends slowly, nuzzling his hair with a hum, “Yes, I believe so.”
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