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#gbsxmaschallenge
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in which harry is the right person at the wrong time. 
a/n: hi lovelies! here is my christmas fic for @goldenbluesuit​ ‘s xmas challenge! i chose the song ‘baby, it’s cold outside’ and it’s my FAVORITE xmas song, so i’ve included bits and pieces of the song throughout the story! hope you all like it, and happy holidays! pls rb and send feedback bc they’re very helpful :) 
WORD COUNT: 9.6k of ex lovers to lovers, teacher!harry x lawstudent!yn filled with slight angst, missing someone dearly, and fluff
WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption 
COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE’ i’d love to know your thoughts! 
pls rb to share! <3
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17 December 2020
A chilly and snowy night was upon you as you took a shot of hard liquor. The face of disgust appeared on your face as the liquid slowly went down your throat after you hammered the shot of tequila. 
Normally, you wouldn’t pregame when you were going to your friend, Addie’s, house where you would drink some more, but you needed to shake off your nerves that you felt at the moment. You took a deep breath after taking your second shot and you had physically felt yourself starting to relax. 
Rolling your head to stretch your neck out, you decided it was time to leave since it was nearing seven in the evening. You called yourself an Uber because of the alcohol in your system and you were planning to sleep over Addie’s place since she said she would bring you back in the morning before you had to go to work. 
You waited for your Uber by the front door while you looked in the mirror, putting your black beanie onto your head. You were bundled up in a black university sweater, a camel color coat over, along with tan lounge pants and a pair of black boots. Once you got a notification that your Uber driver, Jason, was in front of your house, you grabbed your overnight bag and headed out the door. 
You placed the hood of your sweater over your beanie so you got more warmth since it was quite cold. You were never one for the cold weather, which is unfortunate since you lived in London. You cherished the days where it was sunny and warm; the sun bright and warm as you laid on the grass in complete content. 
You missed those days. You missed the days where you didn’t worry about a singular thing. 
Looking out the window, on your way to your destination, you watched the snow slightly fall, hitting and building up on the ground while the pedestrians walked through the streets, bundled up in thick layers of clothing. Some people were with others, walking hand in hand or hugging each other through the cold. Even though it was freezing cold outside, there were smiles on their faces because the hold of one another was enough. They could get through the worst snowfall, but if they were in each other’s arms, it wouldn't matter; they could get through anything. 
The cold had reminded you that you were missing a pair of strong arms that should’ve been around you through this season, but you were completely frozen—left out in the cold to warm yourself up. 
You sighed and the car stopped in front of Addie’s place. You thanked your driver, wishing him a ‘Happy Holidays’ before you got out and buzzed your best friend’s apartment onto the buzzer system; hearing one back, you entered the complex while brushing your shoes onto the floor mat, so you wouldn’t slip while going up the stairs. 
You were grateful the building was warm, and you’re sure Addie would crank up the heat for you since you would always complain how ‘bloody cold’ it is all the time. 
Once you opened the door, you were met with your entire friend group who were all lounging around in the living area. They all faced the door once you walked in, seeing who the last friend to arrive. Greetings were sent towards you, Addie and Nic got up from their spots on the couch that they’re going to lose because behind them, Elijah and Niall were getting up from their spots on the floor to steal it. 
“Hey! There you are! We were all waiting for you,” Addie said, giving you a hug. 
Nic went in for a hug before she pulled back and looked at you suspiciously. You looked at her confusingly, wondering why she was looking at you the way she was before she said, “Did you party before you came here?” You furrowed your brows until you remembered that she probably smelt the alcohol that you took before you left. 
“Oh, uh, just took a couple of shots before I came here.” The two girls understood quite well, thankfully. 
“No worries! Come join,” Addie welcomed you in. The two went back to the living area, only to see that their spots were taken, so they grabbed the two boys’ arms, yanking them out of their seats. You chuckled as you walked to Addie’s room to put all of your belongings. 
Once you did that, you exited her room the same time the bathroom door opened across her room. The person in front of you was the reason why you were so anxious before you left; why you needed to relax for a bit and mentally prepare yourself before going to Addie’s place. 
The person in front of you was Harry Styles. 
The person who had your heart. 
The person you were deeply in love with still. 
The person who was your ex boyfriend. 
“Hi,” he said surprisingly, smiling a bit. 
“Hi, Harry,” you replied, inching towards him as he met you halfway. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders as you did the same around his waist, resting your cheek onto his chest. The hug was warm and comforting, like it always was, and you looked forward to these kinds of hugs every time you saw him. But your heart ached every single time. 
Pulling away, you gave him a small smile before you two walked out of the hallway and to where your friends were. There was laughter between the two girls and guys as Niall was telling them a joke. Nic was the one who saw you and Harry first, and her laughter died down. She looked at you concerningly, giving you those eyes as if they were asking if you were okay, and you nodded your head to reassure her. You and Harry join the group; you sat on the loveseat on one side of the rectangle wooden table, while Harry sat on the floor on the other side. 
You tried joining in on the conversation and laughter, but you couldn’t help but take sneaky glances back to Harry, only to find him getting glances at you as well. 
It was hard to focus on anything your friends were saying when Harry was in the same room, but you realized it was also difficult when he wasn’t in the same room because then you were wondering where he was. 
It wasn’t easy being friends with Harry after the breakup, good friends, especially; and it pained you to actually act normal around him when all you wanted to do was scream, cry, and have him comfort you. But you did your very best to maintain a cool, calm, and collected mood whenever you’re around him, although inside, your heart was racing and everything you said seemed incoherent. 
You tried your best to avoid him after you two split, and he did as well, but being part of the same friend group just didn’t go well with your wishes. You two had to suck it up and be normal around each other.
Being with Harry was possibly the best eight months of your life. To some, it’s not the longest amount of time, but he was one of a kind; you couldn’t find anyone out there like him--not like you were looking anyways. It genuinely felt like you’ve been together for years, and when you two were celebrating your six month anniversary, your friends had questioned you saying ‘It’s only been six months?!’
Your relationship with Harry was all things blissful. It was pure happiness and love, and you wouldn’t want it with anyone else. You two rarely got into fights, and if you did, it was most likely a petty and annoyed argument that would have you two back in each other’s arms only twenty minutes after. He was your fresh breath of air that made you laugh and orgasm…multiple times. 
It was all smiles and laughs until it wasn’t. 
You two had gotten together the second semester of senior year. Meeting at the library because you couldn’t reach a book, it didn’t take long for you both to get together. You had known him for two weeks until he asked you out on a date where he kissed you for the first time. The dates and kisses continued on for six months until you mutually decided to call it quits. 
It wasn’t an easy decision, but considering that Harry was going to a different school that was in a different country for his master’s degree in education for the fall semester, and you were also in the midst of your career; interning at a law firm didn’t quite clear up your schedule, only making you busier by the hour. There was barely any time for the two of you to spend time with each other with how busy and hectic your lives were, so there would most likely be no calls coming in or distant texts that were sent out to make it seem like the void had disappeared. 
Like two mature adults, you and Harry called it quits after the summer. He moved away to get his master’s and you kept yourself busy at the law firm. It wasn’t easy--still isn’t easy, but it was for the best. The both of you needed to focus on your careers and yourself before you two were ready enough to get back together. That’s if Harry wanted to get back together anyways. 
Of course you wanted to get back together with him, but you didn’t know where he stood on that, or if he was even seeing someone. Throughout the two years that he was away, you only saw him during summer and winter breaks, so he could possibly be seeing someone whenever he goes back to school. But now that he had moved back again, your mind was spiraling because now you got to see him more. 
Finally, you broke out of your trance, once again thinking about Harry, you saw him looking at you. The both of you completely tuned out to the conversation and laughter coming from your friends. You held your wine glass up, Harry doing the same while smirking before you both sipped your drinks, hoping the sweet wine would relax your bodies. 
Nic was picking out a small paper out of the Santa hat Addie was holding. She took a quick peek at it before, smirking to herself before Addie moved over to you for your turn. As you chose your Secret Santa, you hoped it was a good one. It’s not like you didn’t love your friends, some of them were picky, and by some, you mean Nic. 
You looked at the piece of paper, smiling before shoving it into your pocket. Addie moved onto Harry who was the last one to choose, and you watched him as he looked at the paper like it was a poker hand. He raised his brows, smirking before he looked up and started to fold the paper. Your eyes looked down at his polished hands, noticing that he still wears the same rings as he did when you first met him. Your favorites were his initial, thinking how incredibly sexy and alluring they looked on him as he walked around confidently. You’ve stolen them multiple times as well, even if they were too big on you, but the thought of walking around with Harry’s name on you just seemed so enticing. 
Niall’s laughter brought you out of your sensual thoughts about Harry’s hands and you realized you were caught staring, and Harry knew exactly what you were looking at with the amount of times he’s caught you staring and fantasizing about his hands. Plus, you openly told him that you had a thing for his hands. 
A smug smile was seen from Harry, so you took your attention away from him and towards your friends. 
“So, what do we say? $50 limit?” Nic suggested, and Elijah rolled his eyes.
“Why are you trying to make me broke? You know I have a huge family, like, 15 cousins!” Elijah debates. 
Nic gasped dramatically. “I’m offended you don’t consider us family, Eli!” Elijah playfully rolls his eyes again, turning his head to the side as he smiled into his shoulder, blushing a bit. 
You chuckled at their playful banter. You’re a bit surprised they hadn’t gotten together yet because ever since you met them, you could practically feel the tension between them. They were just too stubborn to admit that they liked each other. 
“Okay, how about we make it maximum $30?” Harry pitched in. Your eyes had immediately averted to him, and it was like he captured you just by the sound of his voice. “We have exactly six days to get our gifts,” he added. Your friend group has always been one for procrastinating. Everyone is so busy these days that it gets harder to plan hangouts where the entire group could go, but you were all family, so if the gatherings were at three in the morning, everyone would be there. 
The group agreed, telling him that was a solid number. You caught Harry’s eye and he softly smiled at you. Giving him one back, you suddenly felt nervous as he smiled, so you chugged the rest of your wine and walked to the kitchen to open a new bottle to bring to the living area.
The bottle made a loud pop sound, which earned an in sync ‘Woo!’ from the group as it was a tradition you all created whenever a new bottle of wine was being opened. Smiling to yourself, you poured yourself a glass before downing it. As you were doing so, Harry walked into the kitchen with his own glass in his hand. 
“Hogging all the wine, aren’t you, Y/N?” He teased to clear the awkward and anxious tension between you two, and luckily, you stifled out a giggle. 
“You know me and my wine.” You refilled his empty glass while taking a sip of yours. Once you fill it halfway, he clinked your glasses together before taking a sip. His lips meeting the sweet but bitter taste of red wine that you so wished was your lips. The way he curled his lips into his mouth and licking his lips, tasting the flavor had you daydreaming such sultry things about his lips. 
You cleared your throat, breaking yourself out of your gaze. “How are you, H? How’s work?” 
Harry’s cheeks warmed up at the simple nickname. “I’m doing good, yeah. Work is good. The school is great.” This was Harry’s first semester teaching, and he absolutely loved it. He loved being in the classroom setting, interacting and making sure his students understood the material. He wanted to teach elementary kids, but that would require knowing various subjects when he wanted to focus more on ninth grade English. 
“I’m happy for you,” you confessed. You were happy for him, but you wanted to be happy with him. “I know you’re a great teacher, and your students must love you.” You bumped him with your hip gently. 
“They’re great. A couple of them have this weird crush on me for some reason.” 
“I mean how could they not.” You realized you said that out loud, and you’re fully blaming the alcohol and the few glasses of wine that you already had, leaving you with a rosy cheek tint glow. Harry didn’t say anything but smug as he continued to sip on his drink. You slipped past him to join your friends, and Harry followed. Addie gave you a knowing look, hoping to communicate with just her eyes as she saw you and Harry walk out of the kitchen together, and you simply nodded, gesturing that you were okay. 
The rest of the night went by quite fun as the boys helped Addie hang up the rest of her decorations while scoffing and rolling her eyes because they weren’t cooperating. You and Nic were sitting on the floor watching and laughed, pouring yourselves more glasses of wine. Your heart skipped a few beats as you watched Harry the entire time, laughing and smiling, and sometimes looking over at you just to get a simple glance at your face to suffice his heart from the heartache of not being able to hold or kiss you. 
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You’ve always liked shopping alone. Shopping with Nic and Addie could be stressful, no matter how much you loved them. You would only go to the shoppes with them if you weren’t looking for anything to buy, but since you were Christmas shopping and the stores were getting busier counting down to Christmas day, you had passed on their invitation to shop with them. There was nobody bugging or nagging you, causing you to get distracted; just you, a basketful of snacks, and Christmas music playing through your headphones. 
You couldn’t wait to give your Secret Santa gift because you’ve put a lot of thought into it ever since you found out who your receiver was. You’ve been doing Secret Santa with your friends since the third year of college. At first, your friends group was only you, Nic, Addie, and Niall—you’ve known Niall since you were sixteen, and you met the girls your first year of uni—until Nic met Elijah during the second semester of junior year, who was quickly accepted, and then you met Harry. 
You’ve all become a close knit of friends, and each and every single one of you have met other people, but there was nothing like this group. With bonding and connecting so well, all you needed was each other, and you couldn’t be more grateful. 
As you were looking at the collection of whiskey, you felt a body brush passed you, slightly bumping into you as they tried getting through the narrow aisle. You jolted forward a tad bit, making you take a step forward to let the person behind you pass through. 
“So sorry,” the familiar voice said. The music playing through your headphones was not even halfway up since you still wanted to be aware of your surroundings, but you could recognize that voice anywhere. 
Turning around to look at the person behind you, sure enough, it was the one and only. 
“Harry?” You called out, taking out your headphones. He turned around, and once he saw you, he immediately smiled. 
“H-Hi. I didn’t expect to see you,” he nervously blurted out a false statement. He knew that this was your go to store and you would always drag him there because they always had your favorite snacks in stock. 
You chuckled. “Yeah, I didn’t expect to see you here either.” Unlike his statement, yours was true. When you were with him, he would always ask you why you couldn’t stop at any of the other shops because this one was on the other side of where you lived. But you simply told him that it was because you would feel like you would be cheating on this store with the others because this was your go-to place, and the employees here were just lovely. 
“Shopping for yourself?” Harry asked. 
You looked down at your basket. “Oh, no. For my Secret Santa. What about you? What are you doing here?” 
“I, uh, I was on this side of town and,” he turned around to face the wine section before grabbing a bottle of Pinot Noir. “Just needed to get this,” he said as he held it up. 
“Night in?” 
“Hmm, yeah,” he nodded. 
“With…someone, or?” You tried your best to not show your anxiousness when you asked him if he was having a night in with someone that’s not you. 
Harry’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, no. Not with anyone…” Your shoulders relaxed and a small smile appeared on your face. You slightly nodded your head, containing your relief. “You look great!” He complimented. You were wearing your work attire; a black pencil skirt with a white silk, semi turtleneck long sleeve, and a black coat thrown over. You were also in nude heels, which weren’t the best to shop in, but you had forgotten to bring a change of shoes. 
You blushed. “Thank you. I came here straight from work.” Harry’s brows raised. You were always one for a sense of style, so he wasn’t surprised that you would look this good going to work. 
“Really? How is work going, by the way?” 
“Good, actually. I’m still interning at the law firm, so I’m pretty busy. But overall it’s great! A lot of research, mock cases, and sometimes the interns get to sit and watch in the courtroom. It’s pretty thrilling,” you said excitedly. Harry smiled, missing how you would explain things so eagerly. “This is my last year interning, so hopefully I could work at the law firm I’m already interning at, and become a permanent lawyer there.” 
“I’m sure they’d love to have you there. You’re great, really. They’d be stupid to let you go…” he trailed off. There was a double meaning to his words, and you were wondering if Harry thought he was dumb enough to let you go. Not wanting to dwell on his words any longer, you murmured a soft ‘Thanks’ to him and smiled. Harry nodded, mentally beating himself up over his words and how he was really the stupid one to let you go. 
“I, uh, should go, or my sister will be suspicious,” you chuckled. “I hope you have a great night, Harry.” You grabbed a bottle of whiskey before walking passed him. You weren’t even done shopping, but you couldn’t be in the same room as him without thinking of the memories that had always lingered, making you nostalgic and sad because you don’t know if you would be able to make more memories with him. 
Harry was left alone in the aisle as he watched you walk over to the register to pay for your items. Just when you were done, you looked up, giving him a soft smile and waving at him before you turned around and walked out of the store. Harry’s heart fluttered, but at the same time, it was pounding through his chest. He mentally cursed himself for being so nervous around you, making an awkward tension fill the air. He couldn’t tell you what you were really doing at your store--no, he couldn’t. 
Because what would you say if he told you that he’s been going to your store ever since you two broke up and whenever he’s in town just because it reminded him of you. The four walls somewhat mended his broken heart as he felt comfort inside of the shop because some of his best memories of you are in this very store. And since he couldn’t step into your apartment to immediately feel at home, your favorite store would have to do…for now. 
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Right when you entered Addie’s home, you were met with the loud music of the holiday season, along with Addie, Nic, and Elijah singing the lyrics to one another as they jumped and danced with a glass of their preferred alcohol in their hand. 
They hadn’t heard the door open since the music was quite loud, so you took the opportunity to take a quick video of them as you smiled at your lovely friends, who felt so careless at the moment. Once the song ended, you put your phone away, and Eli was the one who spotted you first. 
“Ah, there she is!” He walked over to you, giving you a big hug. You giggled as he slightly picked you up from the ground and twirling you. You were sure that he was already buzzed, and you were wondering how many glasses he’s had already, or if he pregamed by himself to calm himself down for talking to Nic, just like you had done to prepare you for a night with Harry, which you hadn’t done tonight. 
There was a part of you that wanted to take a shot or two to ease your nerves, but you realized that you needed to stop doing that because as far as you know, you and Harry are most likely going to be friends for a long time. So, drinking almost every week did not sound fun to you. 
Nic poured you a glass of wine, clinking your glasses together as you took your first sip of alcohol that night. You helped Addie set up the food onto the table along with some Christmas designed plates and utensils. Just as you were counting the utensils, you heard a loud Santa laugh coming from Niall, making everyone turn their heads towards the door. Niall walked in, carrying a bag-full of presents and Harry followed with a three foil wrapped aluminum trays in his hands as he chuckled at Niall’s way of making himself known. Your face immediately heated up at the sight of your ex-boyfriend because he looked good. 
Although you loved every version of Harry, there was something about Harry Styles in the snowy winter that made your knees weak. He was bundled up in a sweater with a coat tossed over, and he wore boots. His hair was slightly messy from the wind as he shook off the snow that had fallen onto his locks. His nose was always red too, and when he would press a kiss to your cheek, you would feel the icy cold tip of his nose, contrasting to your warm cheeks. And it’s a tragedy that you’ve never spent a winter season with him when you were together, only two Christmases after the breakup. 
Winter Harry was your favorite, and all you wanted to do was snuggle up with him. 
Niall and Harry made their rounds to greet everyone, and Harry would always make sure you were the last one he greeted, just so he could hold and hug you a little longer. 
“Merry Christmas Eve, Eve,” you said once he got to you. He smiled and chuckled, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You laid your head against his chest, taking in his scent and natural warmth, even though he just came from the cold. “What’d you bring?” You asked once you pulled away. 
“I brought the cheesy garlic bread, brussel sprouts, and crab cakes,” he smiled. 
You gasped. “Your specialty. My mouth is already watering.”’ You clapped your hands in excitement. 
Harry giggled, leaning against the kitchen countertop. “Sure is, and it’s some of your favorite dishes of mine too,” he remembered. You blushed, heart fluttering as he didn’t forget your favorite foods. 
Harry was always a chef of his own; he loved cooking. Learning from Anne, he made it his mission to make his own homemade food after he moved out, and she would always tell him that you could always show your love through food. From there, he learned more about cooking and seemed to love everything about it. Whenever the group has gatherings for special occasions and everyone agrees for a potluck, Harry always made sure to talk to everyone and see what they wanted him to cook. 
When you two were together, he did the majority of the cooking. There would be times when you wanted to help, but he would simply tell you that you needed to let him do it and relax. That was something you loved about him—he was always a giver and didn’t expect to receive anything back, in more than one way. 
You and Harry were definitely ones for staying in, and he would always whip up the best food that was filled with so much love and flavor. 
“Once you two are done loving over there, we’d like some help over here!” Niall called out from the dining area. Your eyes widened as Harry’s cheeks turned pink. Harry held his arm out, gesturing you to go first, and you walked out of the kitchen as he followed behind you.
The group’s attention and eyes were on you and Harry, and your brows furrowed as you mouthed a ‘What?’ at them, and they instantly went back to setting up the food as if nothing happened. You turned around to look at Harry confusingly and he shrugged his shoulders, just as confused. 
The music was playing, the decorations were lit up, and the food was settling into everyone’s stomach, followed by drinks as a warm feeling laid over everyone. It was overall a great time with them as it always was, and since Christmas was coming up in just two days, the merry feeling was always everyone’s moods. 
As everyone was laughing and having a great time, Addie had gotten a knock from her neighbor, asking if everyone could keep the volume down. Everyone was holding in their laugh because you all hadn’t realized how loud you’ve gotten. 
“I’m pretty sure they knew it was going to be a long night when it was just the three of them dancing and screaming,” you pointed out to Addie, Nic, and Elijah, and they all laughed, agreeing. 
“Wait, what?” Niall asked confusingly. 
“Right when I walked in, they were screaming at the top of their lungs. Wait, I have a video.” You pulled your phone out of the front pocket of your sweater and showed Niall the twenty second video. 
He cackled. “Hey, thanks for waiting for us,” he teased, giving your phone back to you. 
You leaned back onto Harry’s leg, since you were sitting on the floor and he was sitting on the chair behind you, and you looked up at him to show him the video. He leaned forward, placing his forearms on his thighs as you shifted closer to him so you were sitting in between his legs. Harry’s lips curled into his mouth, and he was grateful that you weren’t facing him because he was flustered. You pressed play, and he watched as he chuckled, watching his friends have a good time.
“Wait, I also wanted to show you this video,” you mentioned once the video was over. You scrolled through your pictures, and Harry was watching you go through your camera roll. He saw pictures of buildings, food, you and the girls, and some of them were just of you. Before he could really think about your own pictures, you found the video of your family dog and showed Harry. 
As you and Harry were watching the video, your four other friends were eyeing you two and whispering things to each other suspiciously. Nic took a few pictures of the moment because the sight was just so cute, but everyone was wondering when you two were getting back together. 
And you were wondering the same. 
For a few minutes, you and Harry were in your own little world as you two talked about your family; never making the effort to change the position you were in--you had just turned your body so you could see him better. You’ve missed times like these where everything else, outside of the bubble you two created, didn’t seem to matter. The way his eyes gleamed when he talked to you had lulled you in, making you depart from every thought you were trying to create while the only thought that dawdled was Harry. 
“Alright, let’s pass out our Secret Santa gifts before we’re all too drunk,” Niall suggested, popping yours and Harry’s bubble. You moved out of between Harry’s legs to sit beside him where you were before. You looked up at him, softly smiling and he gave you one back. His eyes looked like they wanted to say something, and you so badly wanted to crawl into his mind to know what he was thinking. 
Everyone agreed, getting up to grab their gifts. Addie also grabbed the Santa hat that you had to wear if it was your turn to pass out your gift. The Santa hat had been through four Christamases with the group, and it was the little things that made you happy.
Addie decides to go first since she was the host. She put the Santa hat on before she started. “First one! My Secret Santa is…Elijah!” She walked over to him, giving him her gift as he smiled, thanking her. He opened her gift and gasped as it was a new headset for his PlayStation since he was always talking about how one side was completely dead. Addie placed the hat onto his head as he grabbed his gift. 
“So, this one is for…” he smiled before walking over to the other end of the couch. “Nic.” Her eyes widened, taking the gift from his hands, and he took a seat next to her on the floor. She ripped open the wrapping paper before she paused, looking back at him. It was a large rectangle frame of pictures of her and Eli with a note in the middle saying ‘4 years as best friends, countless laughs, and one question unasked. Will you go on a date with me?’ Nic squealed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. It was like he was proposing to her because she screamed out a loud yes. “Life is too damn short. I can’t wait to go another day without calling you my girl, so I wanted to take my chances,” he told her. You smiled at them, realizing it’s been too long, and you were so happy for them. 
It was Nic’s turn, which she completely forgot about because she was so overjoyed, and she walked up to Harry to give him her gift. He thanked her before opening it, receiving a set of nail polish, a few face masks, a vanilla candle, and a gift card to one of his favorite restaurants. 
Harry was up, and he was a bit nervous for this one. You knew that it could either be you, Niall, or Addie since you were the three left without gifts. He stood in front of the fireplace as everyone looked at him. You thought he looked absolutely adorable in that Santa hat, which you think every single year. He slowly walked over to Niall, making him beam, but turned around and walked over to you, earning a ‘Hey!’ from Niall. 
“Merry Christmas Eve, Eve,” Harry greeted you, handing you your gift. You smiled brightly, grabbing the box. It was a quite heavy box with brown wrapping paper with reindeers on it and a large red bow. “I wrapped it myself,” he smirked, playfully flipping his shirt hair, and you giggled. 
You ripped the paper and opened the box, eyes softening. In the box, there was a graphic tee, your —and his—favorite fresh perfume by Jo Malone, five pens with your first and last name engraved in the middle, a Cravings cookbook from Chrissy Teigen and a yellow and white vertical striped apron with the words ‘Summer Lovin’ with a sun embroidered at the top. Your eyes watered at the words at the special but emotional meaning behind it. 
Two months before you and Harry broke up, you knew it was the end. You both agreed that you would spend two months together before you had to part ways with one another. It was the most special and fun summer you ever had, but emotionally, it was the worst. Knowing that you weren’t going to be together anymore by the end of it was behind the facade of the endless laughter and love. You really didn’t want it to be over, but you understood and needed to grow separately and blossom with your careers. 
The words behind the embroidered apron was from one summer night. You and Harry had a bonfire at the beach, and you were cuddled up with him as he held a blanket around the both of you. You had tequila disguised like water as you held your bottle up to the best summer loving. You wished the circumstances were different, but if it’s meant to be, then he’ll come back to you. 
“You’ve always wanted to learn how to cook and I’ve seen that you’re starting to on your Instagram stories, so I thought these were the perfect things to get you so you could be a proper chef now,” he said with a soft smile. 
Harry truly paid attention to the small details of your life. Together or not, he intently listened and observed without anyone knowing. He nailed it down to the small details; from the perfume, the pens, and the apron. The sentiment behind it was what made the gift so special, and the person who gifted it to you completed and made it so much better. 
As your vision had gone glassy, you sat on your knees, reaching up at Harry for a hug. He bent down to your eye level, sitting on his knees as well as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You held him tightly, sniffling into his shoulder as a rush of overwhelming emotions hit you. Your heart fluttered and pounded at the same time—a feeling that was familiar to your body when it came to Harry. 
“Thank you so much. This is the most thoughtful gift ever,” you said into his shoulder. This gift was number two on the list of gifts you’ve received from him, following Harry himself as your number one, of course. 
Harry pulled his head back slightly to press a kiss to the side of your head. The gesture had made your heart swoon and you smiled against his shoulder. Everyone was watching you two interact, and they all thought this was finally the moment where you two would get back together again. They’ve all seen you two suffer enough being without each other, along with the heavy tension that there was. All they wanted was for you both to be happy. 
You pulled away from him, looking up at his green eyes as they stared into you. He offered you a small smile that took your breath away before he wrapped one arm around your shoulder, bringing you into his side as he wasn’t quite done holding you. 
After a few minutes, your friends had let you have your moment before Niall complained how he didn’t have a gift yet. You and Harry chuckled, letting go of one another, and he placed the Santa hat onto your head before you slowly started walking over to Niall. When you handed him his gift, he cheered happily before opening it. You had given him several customized guitar pics with his initials printed onto them, a leather notebook since he liked to write songs, and Proper 12 Irish Whiskey, which was fitting because he’s Irish and he likes Connor McGregor. He thanked you with a big hug, picking you up off the ground with one arm as he held the alcohol bottle in the other. 
Addie was the last one who hadn’t received a gift, and Niall was her Secret Santa. He gave her a bunch of makeup with your help, and a tupperware set, which she had been asking for since everyone always took her containers because she liked hosting so many parties. 
The rest of the night had gone on for a few more hours before everyone was pretty tired, deciding to call it a night. Everyone helped clean up, making sure to help Addie with the dishes and putting or throwing stuff away. Although you were cleaning, you loved your entire group. This was your family--the closest people to you. The ones who know everything about you and would laugh at you when you fall before falling with you. You were entirely grateful for everyone in this room, and you couldn’t have asked for a better group to spend more holidays and days with. 
After the cleaning was done, Niall and Eli started to head out, not before Eli was satisfied with the amount of goodbyes he gave Nic with how long the hug was. Niall had to physically pull him off, telling him the Uber was outside. 
You were washing your hands before Harry walked over next to you, handing you a towel to dry off your hands. “Thank you,” you muttered, shyly smiling. 
“Uh, I wanted to ask if you wanted to come over?” He proposed. Your brows raised at his question. You and the girls had planned on having a sleepover after, but the prospect of going home with Harry had sounded much better (no offense to your friends). 
“I was planning to sleepover here…” you decided to innocently tease, even though you knew you were going to say yes. 
“I already asked them, and they said I could take you. I could drop you back off here if you want. So, the answer is up to you,” he smirked. A blush appeared onto your cheeks, admiring the fact that he asked your friends for permission if he could take you home. 
“There’s bound to be talk tomorrow,” you teased, lightly nudging him.
“I’ll take my chances,” he smiled, a hopeful look presented on his face. 
You breathed out a chuckle, looking at him for a moment before you nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.” Harry’s eyes widened as the corners of his lips turned up. You grabbed your phone and your coat before walking over to Addie and Nic who were both cuddled up on the couch, saying goodbye to them. They sent you a playful wink, and you rolled your eyes as nerves startled to settle in your stomach. 
You followed Harry out of the door, the cold air brisking past you as you walked to his car. He opened the passenger and you thanked him before getting in. Harry started the car and the song that was playing was ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside.’ It was a song you loved ever since you were a little girl, and you remembered the times you and your mom would always sing it in the car. You smiled at the memory, humming as you hoped it would be a way to distract you from the anxious feeling that you have. 
You started humming to the tune as quietly as you possibly could, but Harry heard it as he started to hum it as well. You looked at him through your peripheral vision, noticing that he started to tap his fingers against the steering wheel. 
You were about to start singing until you noticed that he pulled into his driveway, so you contained yourself and closed your coat, getting out of the car as you followed him into his home. You’ve only been inside his home three times--those three times being when he would suggest everyone hang out there. It was a lovely place and whenever you were sitting on his couch, you had wished you shared the space with him. 
Harry lit up the fireplace, placing the metal shield in front of it before turning back towards you and smiling. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to get us some hot chocolate, if that’s alright?” He asked, wanting to know your preferred drink. 
“Sound good.” You hung your coat onto the coat rack before walking over to his turquoise velvet couch and taking a seat, getting comfortable to an extent, not knowing how comfortable you should get. 
Not long after, Harry came back with a wooden tray, and he placed it on the coffee table in front of you. There were two mugs filled with milk, two hot chocolate kits, and spoons. 
“I made these for my students, and I just so happened to have two extra kits, so this will be fun,” he smiled, and you gave him one back appreciatively. You thought that it was cute and sweet of him to give something to his students for the holiday season. Normally, teachers don’t give them anything, but Harry wasn’t just any other teacher. 
A somewhat comfortable silence fell over you two as you both made your own hot chocolate, and you listened to the fireplace roar. Once you two were done, you clicked your glasses together before taking a sip. The warm and comforting drink made you smile and was overall delicious. 
Harry didn’t know what to say or how to say what he really wanted to say. It felt like he had non stop thoughts running through his head, but when he opened his mouth to start, there was a delay. An overwhelming feeling took over him and he wanted to yell at himself for not saying how he really felt. 
“Y/N-” 
“Harry.” 
Just like before, your minds had been in sync, causing you both to speak at the same time. A light laugh came out of both of your mouths. 
“You go first,” you told him. 
Harry took a deep breath. “How’re you doing?” He asked. Out of everything he could have said, that was the only question that came out of his mouth, but he figured it’s a good start to getting somewhere. 
“Truthfully?” He nodded. “I’m doing okay. I’ve managed to distract myself from worrying about the future with work, and so far, it’s been helping.” 
“What are you worried about?” Harry wondered curiously. He could feel his heart pounding through his chest, and if he’s being honest, it’s been that way the first time he saw you…ever. 
“Worried if I’m gonna be where I want to be career wise, and…” you trailed off. 
“And what?” He encouraged you to continue. His stare was so intimidating and deep that the words flew off your tongue, making them unforgettable. “Ba--Y/N?” He called out for you, noticing how he almost slipped up and called you ‘baby,’ and you so wished he hadn’t stopped himself. 
You finally mustered up the courage to speak your thoughts. “I’m afraid that I’m gonna be alone,” you said honestly. 
Harry’s brows furrowed, shaking his head instantly. “You’re not alone, no. You have your family, all of us--your friends, me-” 
“You?” Your brows raised. 
“Yeah-” 
“Harry, you’re the reason why I’m so worried…” you confessed. You were starting to get frustrated--not at Harry, but at yourself because you had planned to have this conversation a different day. You tried to calm yourself down, and Harry could practically see that you were getting angry at yourself. You had a certain stressful and frustrated look that he would notice when you started to beat yourself up over things. And throughout the months of being with you, especially when you were in the midst of law school, he learned how to calm you down. 
Harry placed his hand on your knee; the touch being unexpected to you, but it had brought you immediate comfort. He pulled you into his side and you rested your head on his shoulder, looping your arm under his, the one that’s on your leg, and hugged his arm. Harry’s other hand touched your arm, caressing and soothing you. His actions had felt very natural and familiar to him. He would comfort you like this when you were feeling stressed. Normally, he wanted to cuddle you tightly, but this was your preferred way to calm down because in a way, he was still holding you, and you were still in control and didn’t feel like you were suffocating if he had held you tightly.
You stayed like that for a few moments, and you had calmed down a bit already, but you just wanted to be close to him and cherish the moment. 
After a few minutes, you pulled away and turned towards him, smiling softly. Your heart warmed at the fact that he remembered exactly what to do when you started to feel anxious, and you may have fallen in love with him even more…after all these years. 
“Now, wanna tell me why you’re so worried?” He asked softly, not wanting his tone to be pressuring, and you’re grateful for it.
“I’m worried I’m going to have to live a life without you. It terrifies me to think about you going out and meeting someone, and I would have to watch you get married to someone else that’s not me. That you would be sharing this home with someone that’s not me.” Your eyes start to water, and you had mentally told yourself that you wouldn’t cry, but you didn’t believe yourself in the slightest. “Watching you love someone else is going to be the most difficult thing I would have to do.” 
Your tears had fully fallen down your face, which is unfortunate because you both had such a good day with your friends and it was nearly Christmas. Quickly wiping your tears away, you got up from the couch, and headed towards the door. Harry was confused until he saw you grab your coat, putting it on. In a flash, Harry got up from the couch, walking towards you. 
“W-What are you doing?” He asked. 
“I really can’t stay…” you told him sadly. You had no idea how you were getting home or back to Addie’s since it’s snowing, so you don’t know if there were any Ubers out, especially at this time. “This evening has been…so very nice, Harry.”
“You don’t have to leave. Baby, it’s cold outside, c’mon,” he pleaded with worried eyes. Your heart melted at his words and the name that he used to call you, making you pause in your movement. 
“Please,” he pleaded softly, taking a small step forward, and your breath hitched in your throat as you looked up at him. There was a dead silence between you two that was tension filled, and you had no clue what was going to happen next until he opened his mouth. 
“Mind if I move in closer?” He whispered. The sound would barely be audible if anyone else was there, so he said those words specifically for you to hear. 
You shook your head, and he took another step forward. Your bodies were a centimeter away from being pressed up against one another, and your heart was beating so fast, making your hands shake and tremble. He looked down at you so intently that you were under his spell, and you were conflicted as you wish you knew how to break the spell as his green eyes looked deep into you, luring you in even more. 
You took a deep breath. “Kiss me already,” you breathed out. Harry’s heart nearly stopped at your words, but he slightly smirked as he blushed, brushing your hair behind your ears before taking your face into your hands and leaning down to place a deep and passionate kiss onto your lips. 
This feeling, this touch, this man was what you’ve been waiting for these past two years. Throughout those years, you felt like giving up; accepting the fact that he wasn’t going to love you again. But he had proved you wrong in the simple brush of his lips and tongue that were in sync with yours, making the spark between you grow bigger and bigger. The spark that had never lost its power, but was on pause.
You grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling him closer as the other hand was wrapped around his back. Harry had you pushed up against his front door, and you had the urge to lift your leg up to wrap it around him, but you resisted. 
Harry wanted more, too. His hands trailed down from your face to your back, closing the nonexistent proximity between you, and guided you back to the couch. You were walking backwards, completely trusting him that he wouldn’t let you fall as his lips never left yours. 
You giggled once the back of your legs hit the couch, falling onto the soft material as Harry hovered over you, laying in between your legs. He looked at you for a moment, studying every freckle, the crimson color on your cheeks, the curve when you smile, your glimmering eyes, and your cute nose. He knew that it was exactly how he remembered. After a couple of years being separated, a beautiful face like yours was hard to forget. 
“You’re quite crazy to think I’d want to live the rest of my life with someone else when you’re right in front of me,” he suddenly said. Your eyes widened at his confession. “Never wanna be without you ever again. Thought you didn’t want to be with me when I came back, so I just didn’t bother. But you have no idea how much I missed you. I missed you so much.” 
He placed soft kisses all around your face as he spoke, leaving you feeling so tender and soft as he was so gentle with you. For someone who’s on her way to becoming a lawyer and always having to have an answer for everything, you were speechless. The words that you’ve been waiting for for so long were music to your ears. It rolled off his tongue so smoothly, slick like honey, and you connected your lips with his again, swirling your tongue against his as you devoured his words. Hands finding their way to his hair, you gripped on his locks and pulled just the way he liked it, earning a groan from him, and you smirked against his mouth. 
You pulled back, leaving him breathless. Swollen lips, blushed cheeks, and smiles plastered on his face, you said the words you’ve been itching to say. “I love you,” you blurted out. The words had rolled off your tongue so effortlessly, making shivers run down Harry’s spine as his eyes watered up. “I was listening to Elijah earlier, and he’s right. Life’s too fucking short to not have what you want.” 
He took one of your hands into his, bringing it up to his lips before placing a kiss onto the back of your hand. Your other hand was playing with the curls that laid delicately on his hands, scratching it lightly. 
“Missed hearing you say those words.” He smiled, tears making their way down his face. “I love you too. So, so much that you have no idea how I feel when you walk into the room and I see your beautiful face. I love you. I love you. I love you, baby.” His affirmations had caused you to softly sob—the two of you a crying mess from the obvious but unspoken love that was finally being released again. “It’s always been you. You’ve always been my girl, did you know that?” You tilted your head a bit. “Never gonna go a day without reminding you that you are, because you’ve never not been my girl. Had to love and admire you from afar, but just wanted to hold you and kiss you.” 
“You can kiss and hold me all you want now, my love,” you reassured him, and he dug his face into your neck, placing a soft kiss against your skin. 
You smiled so brightly as your heart felt so happy and overflowed with love, and he matched your grin, feeling the same way. 
The two of you kissed each other for a bit more, whispering sweet words, and laughed and talked about anything and everything—truly catching up with one another. 
“Oh.” He got off of you, making you slightly pout from the weight of laying on you that you already missed. “I actually got you another gift.” 
“Harry…you already got me enough.” It was true. Along with the thoughtful gift, he was your true Christmas miracle. 
“I know. But this one, I wanted to give to you in private, and this is the perfect moment, so let me do this?” He looked at you with sweet and pleading eyes with a small smile on his face. Who could ever say no to that adorable face? Certainly not you. 
You nodded, and he shot up, heading towards the stairs. “Give me thirty seconds,” he said before rushing up the stairs. 
You heard him shuffling up there, and the sound of a drawer opening and closing. Thirty seconds later, he was walking downstairs, holding a white box wrapped in a red bow. He sat back down next to you, looking into your eyes as he spoke. 
“This is what I wanted to give you when we were alone. It didn’t matter the outcome of how things turned out between us tonight, I just wanted to give you this because I think you’ll appreciate it. It reminded me of you when I saw it, and I knew I had to get it.” He handed you the box with slightly shaky hands. 
You untied the bow, taking the top off. A gasp came from your mouth as you picked up the chain. It was a little gold sun pendant, symbolizing your summer together. You studied the charm for a moment, delicately touching it as you teared up at the meaning behind it. It matched quite well with your embroidered apron, and the two together would be quite the match. 
“Thank you, Harry. This is so sweet of you.” You leaned forward, giving him a hasty kiss to his lips, smiling against them. “Help me put it on?” He nodded eagerly. You handed him the necklace before turning around, lifting your hair. You felt the cool metal chain hit your skin along with Harry’s lingering touches across your shoulders, causing your skin to pebble. He placed a quick kiss to your neck before pulling away. You turned around to meet his eyes as you smiled. 
“Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.” He kissed your forehead. “I’m so happy. Merry Christmas Eve, Eve, baby.” 
“Merry Christmas Eve, Eve, my love.” 
You cuddled into his side as the silence took over. The only thing was heard was the pounding of your love-filled hearts along with the cracking of the fire. Sure, it was cold outside, but right here in Harry’s arms, you were warmer than ever. 
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all-things-fic · 3 years
Text
Somewhere Only We Know
A/N - Hello, you lovely lot! Hope you are all keeping well in these utterly shit Covid times. Who would’ve thought that we would still be here in December?! Please see my offering for @goldenbluesuit​‘s Christmas Fic Challenge. Hope I’ve done a bit of justice with this piece.
I can remember Katie texting me telling me about the challenge, and I’ll admit I was given first dibs and now I’m absolutely shitting myself because I’ve seen all the brillaint entries so far and I’m not sure I really cut the mustard with this piece but I’m proud of myself for being able to put a solid 70% of this together in just one day (that one day being today).
Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Katie has done a brilliant job and I know how grateful she is towards anyone who has joined the challenge or supported by reading/sharing etc.... I need to stop rambling... Okay, thank you for sticking with me as always and happy reading! .x
***
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The last thing you remembered actually reading in the group chat was “make sure you have your wellies”. You were glad that you remembered that part at the very least.
Winds whipped around you as you buried your face further into your cream roll neck cable knit jumper, all but hidden underneath your tobacco borg teddy coat that someone had already likened to Macklemore.
Nothing like being back home with your closest and oldest friends.
Mud squelched under your feet as you walked in line with two of your oldest girl friends, eyes looking over the four males in front of you as they led the way over the grassy hills.
There had been zero planning on what today’s events would bring. It was quite clear that the seven of you just wanted to be reunited with the country air and wind bitten cheeks.
It was nice. How simple it was. On the surface at the very least. That was until you zoned in on the little things. 
Like his laugh. The same laugh that always carried somehow and it seemed like the wind was making it that much more prominent than usual today.
There was no denying, he had this glow about him. Even from the back of him. You felt silly for thinking it, but it was true. It was in the way he held himself as he attacked the grassy hills with his feet clad wellies and brown trousers.
Life had changed a lot in over a decade. Christ, had it been that long? You’d all gone from baby teenagers to fully fledged adults. The age range of your friendship differing slightly, the odd person here and there slightly older than a couple of people in the group.
Nonetheless, many of the experiences had been the same. The big job offers, and the even bigger promotions. The heartbreaks, regardless of their prominence or lack of, had been the felt the same. The flirtation between some of you sparked probably a bit more so now with a finesse that didn’t have you rolling your eyes but rather leaning into it. 
Four out of seven of you were single. Jack and Jonny were virtually married off, however neither of them were with their partners this year with both deciding to spend Christmas at home and New Years with their significant others. Alice was still loved up and going strong with her fella, as was Grace who you hadn’t heard a peep from as she constantly checked her phone to see when the person she was besotted with finally arrived up North thanks to West Midlands Trains pulling into Crewe. 
So that left Will, you and Harry. Harry who had  quite publicly made it known that he was single. Well, according to your Mum he had, in several interviews. Including the one that she had described as an ‘incredibly relaxing watch and nice background noise to my Sunday evening brew and ironing session’. 
That was a strange one for you, his honesty. In earlier years of friendship, he always seemed quite aloof. Like he was keeping his options open. Guarded in a way that frustrated at least 75% of the friendship group, in the nicest way possible. You knew that was a contradiction but any annoyance came from a good place. 
You remembered one night in 2014 when he wouldn’t quite give you a straight answer over tequila shots whether he was shagging someone or not. You also remember the way he’d been pulled away from you tactfully by Alice that night when she sensed how you were about to blow up at his lackadaisical attitude. 
The same had been felt in 2016. Not so much in 2018, but you weren’t single then so maybe you just didn’t care. 
2019 was significantly different though.
See the thing was, you knew him now. Like, knew knew him. 
Some would think it was a lapse of judgment, a reading that you would agree upon given what had happened two days prior if ever prodded about it publicly.
Others would vehemently disagree. Stating how long any sort of energy between the two of you had been bubbling for a number of years. 
Looking back you couldn’t even understand why you’d attended his show. You lived in Camden and it made sense, but that’s where the sense stopped. Even the ways he had reached out had been one of the most random messages you’d received from him
There was no context, just a simple ‘I’m playing the Electric Ballroom and there’s tickets waiting for you if you want ‘em.’
And the thing was, you loved that venue. The grungy-ness of it all. The way you had stuck to the floor while trying to dance along to the likes of The Hives and Kings of Leon when seeing them playing there, basking in your sweaty happiness. 
But the stickiness of the floor and sweatiness of the room didn’t compare to the stickiness and sweatiness you later found yourself partaking in as Harry took you from behind over the side of his couch. 
A shiver rolled through you at the thought, one that you would blame on the December bitter chill because it was a secret. One that neither of you had mentioned since it happened on Thursday night, or to be technically correct the early hours of Friday morning. 
He’d been good. Of course he had been.
He had that way about him that night that pulled you under a false sense of endeared security. From his dimpled smile to gleaming eyes. He was happy. 
And the way he had shone as he found you on the balcony had warmed you like nothing you had known in the longest time.
It caused you to forget about the worry that had laden you limbs as you turned up at 9.13pm to the wooden doors of the building, wondering how many songs he was in to the set as you convinced yourself he would start at 9.00pm.
As you’d been ushered over to a clear box window and uttered your name to a dorky looking man wearing a tracksuit pull over and watched him handover a white envelope through the circle hatch. 
You stood in the dark, next to two much younger girls who enjoyed the way his glances lingered over at their side. Eyes had found Gemma in the opposite corner of the balcony, her dancing and singing with some recognisable faces mainly more so because you had seen them on social media.
You, however, kept yourself to yourself. Until you were anchored in the tightest hug from Gemma that you had ever felt from her and swayed from side to side as she made it known how pleased she was to see you once the concert was over. 
That familiarity had been nice. The vibrancy of nostalgia consuming you in your entirety. 
Watching him work a room when he finally entered the after party was a sight to behold, in his navy blue pinstripe suit and yellow ‘I’m gonna die lonely’ t-shirt. 
He wasn’t. Gonna die lonely, that is. 
He glided so smoothly from one person to the next, spilling a drink down himself in the process you’d seen (and later felt when your hand clung to the fabric of his t-shirt as you kissed), making time for everyone in his own unique way.
Big eyes followed you over Gemma’s shoulder when he had finally found himself within your circle and hugged his sister once more that evening. They were hard to read but also openly filled with a glimmer of hope as he dropped his gaze to see what you were wearing.
And when he approached you, he hugged you in a way that managed to pull you into the darkened corner of the dingy space. Spinning your body to keep your face concealed from any prying eyes. 
He revealed to you how he didn’t think you were going to turn up, scanning you with his gaze as he spoke. You did the same, a bit taken aback by just how attractive you were finding him. He had always been handsome but the aura he gave off, made your fingers itch to have him closer to you. 
Words ran away from you that night as he begged and pleaded with you to tell him what your favourite song had been. Based on first impressions, which the show has been, then Canyon Moon and Watermelon Sugar had smothered you and given you no other option but to pick them.
If he were to ask you now you’d probably say To Be So Lonely, thanks to the drive home being longer than originally thought and said album being your choice of road trip music. 
Forget Driving Home For Christmas, nothing slapped more than one of your closest friends admitting to being an arrogant son of a bitch. 
After your chat, he mingled some more but Harry was always tactile and that night had been no different. He veered conversations with people you had never seen before to take place by the zone that you all occupied.
He actively kept his back against yours, allowing the faintest of touches and brushing of arms - sometimes hands too if he dropped them down heavily enough with his arms as he spoke - to entice and create a spark. 
You were kept late enough to miss the last tube. Battery dangerously low on your phone that you didn’t know if a transaction with Uber would be worth a try. 
Jumping into the same car as him had been easy. His soft and tired eyes findings yours in the cab as he leant his head back against the headrest in the back seat and let his lips tip upwards in an expression of tenderness that had you melting in your seat. 
“‘S been a while since we’ve both been a bit pissed in the back of a taxi,” he mused, pushing his fallen locks out of his eyes to ensure his view of you wasn’t obscured. “Come an’ cuddle me like you used to do when we went out a’ home and were worse for wear.”
Falling into his side was almost second nature, eyes closing as you let your forehead rest against his jawline and let his worn in cologne fill you senses and scatter your judgment.
You don’t even remember how you ended up kissing that night. A mixture of confessions about missing each other and praise of how good you both were in your own ways. The sound of his whispered, “are you coming home wi’me?” against your lips an offer too good for you to refuse as you sat pressed into his side and half in his lap. 
The giggles that night, around dramatic shushes as you tripped and shuffled from the car to his front door were almost haunting in your memory as he tried to chastise you around spluttered laughter about being respectful of his neighbours. 
Getting the key in the lock proved unchallenging -  one of the better analogies aligned to your memories and latter sexual endeavours - as you slipped into the house. He enjoyed watching the way you walked ahead of him into his home, not realising how much he needed that visual of seeing how well you fit in. 
While time seemed to slow in that moment, movements desperately sought the opposite. Hands gripped and clawed like their lives depended upon it. 
Looking back now, both he and you wished it hadn’t happened the way it did. Skirt lifted and over the side of his couch. Teeth clashing and hips knocking.
It had been every inch a drunken fumble. A first meeting slightly cheapened but wanted nonetheless. Only made even cheaper by the hush-hush concealing of it ever occurring. 
But a secret it was and a secret it would remain. 
And oh how you wished you had a pillow you could press you face into right now and scream, this time for an entirely different reason. Unlike that night. 
“Not seen a sign of any deer yet, mate,” you heard a voice break you out of your indulgence of recollecting past events. Harry was the worst at wanting to get a reaction. 
“Christ, have a bit of patience would yer?”
You smiled at the bickering, just like it always was as the River Dane could be heard in the distance somewhere as you walked. If you listened really close, that is. 
Lifting your eyes, your smile lingered as you watched Harry spin his body around and let his hands get lost in the massive pockets of his parka. He walked backwards holding your gaze softly with his eyes twinkling before he gently rolled them at the overreaction and impatience of your friends.
He seemed pleased that you’d enjoyed his teasing as you once again hid you smile into your jumper. 
You’d be alright.
***
You heard giggles and screams ahead of you as your friends stumbled in the dark and messed about as you got closer to the viaduct. This place or the people didn’t change, and at times while it filled you with a warm nostalgia, it could be heavily jarring.
A soft and lazy smile pulled at your lips as you felt his heavy forearm lightly tug you closer to him, his lips finding your hair. And then there was Harry. 
“Think we should go this way m’self,” Harry mumbled, the nudge of his hips against yours had you stumbling slightly in your heels away from the direction of your friends and somewhere completely different. 
“And why’s that?” You turned your face slightly, cheeks warm and flushed thanks to the mixture of alcoholic beverages; eyes glazed as they lifted up to look at him. 
“Cause you never would’ve let me when I was sixteen,” he admitted. 
“You didn’t ask.”
“‘M askin’ now.” 
With slow blinking eyes, you looked at his own unfocused vision. A soft shine to his skin, hair blowing gently against his forehead. The softest of smiles tilted at your lips.  
“On yer go,” he nudged you forward, this time more so with his crotch and his hands, which wrapped around your hips to help steer you. Harry was met with only a small amount of resistance from you as you split off from your friends and turned in the different direction. 
You bit back your laugh, dropping your head slightly as you felt your heels started to sink into the grass as you walked. Harry was level with you when you sunk down noticing the way you legs slightly gave way, a soft chuckle omitting from his throat as he asked, “You alrigh’?”
“I’m sinking in these bloody things,” you grumbled, pulling your heel from the grass and trying to place the sole of your shoe onto the ground beneath you first. 
“So much for no’ being able to take the country out o’ the girl. London’s changed yer, swear it.”
Shaking your head, you cut your eyes to give him a harsh stare for his wind up. His amused expression lit a fire in you like no other. He really wasn’t one to talk though, was he? 
“Gi’me your hand ‘ere,” he held his out to you, quickly cupping it when you handed it over and pulled it under his bent elbow. “Remind me again who’s idea this was, eh?”
He didn’t need reminding, he had been one of the keen instigators for the whole jaunt down Twemlow Viaduct. It usually was him, or Jack. The two of them often reminiscing on times they had both raided their parents' alcohol cupboards and managed to sneak out with some dusty bottle that held a liquor that tasted out of date and stale, and if not that then, cheap. 
“‘S still fucking freezing down ‘ere, in’it?” He asked, lifting his left hand up to his mouth and blowing against it to try and get some feeling back into his fingers.
“We’re so close to the river, I don’t know why you’d expect anything different?”
“Is this why everyone was always so insistent on necking anything with over 11% alcohol in it when we came down ‘ere as kids?”
“Probably,” you softly laughed. 
“‘S a bit different now though innit?”
“Oh, I’m not so sure,” you started to correct him, shrugging your hand out from under his elbow and reaching for your bag. Quickly fumbling with the clasp, you lifted up the quilted flap and managed to pull out the stainless steel hip flask.
Harry cackled a harsh laugh, his eyes crinkling as he slowly let his laughter die down and softly let his joy wash over his features. “Impressive. Gone all proper on me.”
“You know I haven’t,” you held his eyes watching as he nervously cupped at the back of his neck for a short while, a gentle bite down of his bottom lip, as you quickly uncapped the item and held it out to him. He looked like he needed the courage.  You continued, “We’re just a bit more refined, that and we earn a good living. Some more than others, and by some I mean you.” 
He held his hand up towards you with an amused grin at your comment. “You first, ‘s yours after all.” 
Lifting the item and knocking back your head, you swallowed the whiskey with a small grimace, before offering it to Harry once more. This time he accepted, his right hand making light work of taking the item from your hands and sipping at the contents.
His face wasn’t as contorted as your’s when he swallowed, a fan of the chosen beverage if needs must. “‘S the proper stuff, tha’ is,” he commented with a quick lick of his lips before continuing, “Come a long way from sneaking the bottles of dusty Blossom Hill from the back of the cupboard.”
“Don’t know about that,” you smiled, taking the item and pushing it back into your bag. “I’d still drink if, if it were on offer.”
“‘M sure Mum’s got a bottle or two going at home?”
“Is that your way of asking me to go home with you?” You paused. “Again.”
Harry remained silent at your words. Both you and he knew it was going to happen. A mixture of sparks and lovelorn, lingering glances was enough to make anyone both want to give up, while also giving a burning confidence usually unknown. 
Neither of you expected it would be you who started the conversation, however. 
“It is, ‘f it’s gonna work. ‘M not sure I could wait any longer t’be’onest wi’yer.“
Laughing, you reached up to push at his shoulder. He always knew exactly what to say, but no way was he going to make a laughing stock of the whole thing. “Oh, give over,” you spoke, harshly swallowing when he kept your hand against the thick cable knit black jumper he had on. “You’ve made it this far, thus far just fine.” 
“‘M not playin’,” he whispered, hand gently curling around your own and lifting it up to press against his face. His cheeks were warm underneath the cooler hands, despite the cold night whipping around you both and your mind quickly wondered if he was just as embarrassed for his lack of acknowledgment as you had been. “Homes nice, you’re nicer.”
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about it,” you let your soft voice get taken by the wind.
“An’ what gave you tha’ impression?”
He did. He gave you that impression. By not mentioning it. By treating you how he always did.
“You.”
“Me?” Harry responded, indignantly, blowing out a sigh that had his cheeks puffing out underneath your hand. “‘M not doing a very good job then am I? I can’t keep m’eyes off o’you. ‘S not my fault you don’t bloody notice ‘em.”
But you had noticed them. 
His eyes, gaze following your every move, near enough. Stupid little touches. Glances of approval. Not just now, but from years before. 
Treating you how he always did.
Oh, treating you how he always did.
Bringing your eyes back to his figure, you saw the way his gaze darted and nervousness dragged at his features. A frown began to set itself between his eyebrows from worry. 
“Changes everything.”
Running his tongue along his teeth, Harry pursed his lips. “Everythin’ has changed, changed a long time ago an’all.” 
You dropped your hand down, it now massaging against the back of his neck and shoulder as you felt the tension of his body radiating through his clothes. Under the dim moonlight and the odd spotlight that had been added to the viaduct with each passing year for safety, Harry exhumed everything anyone would want in a boyfriend. He was soft, and so bloody gorgeous. Not just because he was personification of an almost six foot tall string of handsomeness, but his character did the talking for him.
He knocked the door before he walked into a room, for example. Who really did that kind of thing anymore? 
But you could also still see the heartbreak that lingered, albeit not as strong as it once was, it was still there. And that was problematic and scary. To be on the receiving end of it. Not that you would hold it against him, because you had been him at one point too. At many points in fact. 
When the two of you had shagged, because let’s face it that is exactly what it had been, while a sense of familiarity in the person was prevalent it was definitely overruled by the desire to just hit a euphoric high that if hit right could not be topped. 
Familiar overruled in other aspects, and it wasn’t to be brushed away. But was familiarity a mask that would slip sooner rather than later? Was it the start and the end?
The both of you experienced similarities in your life that could not be matched by the friends in your friendship group. London had chewed you up and spat you out, ruthlessly so. While rewarding you with long hours but fat pay cheques, careers that catapulted you to new heights and enabled you to see parts of the world that two country kids (which in one way you were) could never have imagined. 
Sure Harry’s had been on a much, much larger scale - you would not ever deny that - but you no longer fit in. 
And neither did he. 
This was a place that only the two of you knew. A place where you watched those around you fall in love and have the time to do so. A place where your friend's happiness was created a lot easier than it wasn’t and allowed a sense of success to weave its way in, through the most unexpected of happenings.
Not a place where you found happiness in your work because there was less of a space for happiness to blossom elsewhere. Not really. Not like you; both of you. 
Understanding was vital. 
This had been a place you knew like the back of your hand. A place that had you feeling the earth beneath your feet, fresh air in your lungs and had at times made it so you found yourself sitting by a river and finding yourself feeling complete. 
Yet looking over at the almost 26 year old, that just wasn’t the case anymore. 
And for once you didn’t feel alone. 
The sound of the odd piece of cobbled pavement underneath Harry shoes, buried beneath overgrown grass and plants, broke you from your thoughts, as you watched him kick at the ground and scuff his shoes.
He sighed, head tilted back before he knocked it to the side and caught your eyes. A small scoffed laugh left his lips as he shook his head and dropped his gaze to his feet.
“‘S it fucked?”
You hummed, a small frown lacing your features.
“Fucked it, haven’t I? Fuckin’- idiot-“ he breathed out a noise as he clenched his teeth, one that wasn’t quite a growl but enough to let you know he was agitated. Only strengthened by how tight his jaw became. 
Before you could even think, the back of your hand gently brushed against the pulsing hinge of his jaw. Muscles taut as you tried to soothe him in a way that your mind was screaming was far too intimate.
You didn’t want him having any internal battle about right and wrong. Not when you had both taken the same steps to get here. 
“Thought it was just meant as a one time thing,” you admitted. “Like you needed it, and I needed it. Was what it needed to be at the time. Bit rough, bit sloppy-“
You cringed are the use of the word. Wanting the ground to swallow you in a weird fashion. You should be able to talk open and honestly with someone who you had known longer than hadn’t. 
“Rough?“ Harry swallowed audibly, his face fallen. “That’s not-“ 
His eyes held an emotion similar to sorrow at the mention of the word. “That’s not the impression I wanted to give you.” 
“We were both drunk, it happens.” 
“Not with me it doesn’t. Not when it’s me, wanting to be wi’you.”
“I mean I was into it if that helps anything?” 
“Were yer?”
You looked at him from the corner of your vision, watching his lips try to fight a smile as you rolled yours into your mouth to not give yourself away. You knew what you were trying to do by speaking those words aloud but you wished you hadn’t. Awkward breathy laughs were shared by the two of you as you held his eyes. 
“Was I?”
You hummed in agreement to answer his question, letting your smile dance along your lips now and watching as Harry’s dimples started to show. His expression was youthful, slightly smug. 
“Good t’know.”
***
Finishing saying your goodbyes to your friends and ignoring their suggestive expression because ‘Harry was stopping as an extra pair of hands’, you shut the heavy wooden door and reached up to close the deadbolt lock at the top. Shortly after, you let your feet drop as you stopped standing on your tiptoes and pressed your forehead against the door. 
The silence of the pub was always a strange one to you. A place that was usually thriving, whether it was just your friends, or your parents friends. When the lights were turned out, it was actually quite a lonely place. Regardless of growing up around this sort of industry your entire life and having parents as publicans nothing was more depressing than an empty bar, lifeless and nothing like it was intended.
A suggested lock-in from Jack, who managed to interrupt both yours and Harry’s conversation earlier had not been a bad shout after all. You knew it meant that you would have to deal with the fallout with it being Christmas Eve, but it wasn’t very often that you found yourself in the setting. 
Turning to move from the door, you almost jumped out of your skin when you heard the opening of a familiar Lily Allen song start to play over the speakers. 
Harry emerged from the corner of the pub that housed the jukebox, slowly rubbing his hands together before he wordlessly picked up the scattered pint glasses that had remained on one of the tables that had been missed by the staff on the evening shift. His eyes glanced over at you, as you stood with a hand to your chest.
This wicked smile and gleam washed over his face as he paused his movement. “Did I scare yer?”
“Do you not think it’s a bit loud?”
He wrinkled his nose at you, a soft shake of his head no, to answer your question. 
“‘S your fave innit?” He asked, head nudging to where the jukebox was now hidden.
With a small smile you nodded, “Prefer the Keane version in all honesty.”
“Don’t have it in the bloody jukebox though, d’yer? Can’t like it that much.”
Your smile deepened at his exclaim and how prominent his accent sounded as he spoke, the small clink of the glasses he was holding only heard if you really zoned in. 
“Where d’yer want these?” He asked, holding up the five pint glasses he had collected. “Behind t’bar?”
Humming, you nodded and watched as he weaved his way through the tables to you. You frowned as he got closer, not understanding why he hadn’t bypassed you completely.
Once he was close enough to you, you watched as he reached for what you knew to be your own glass of wine that was almost finished. 
“Fancy the rest of this or can it go too?”
Looking at him and down to the glass, you gently wrapped your hand around it and brought the lip to your mouth. You knocked the item back quickly, swallowing the rest of your wine, before handing over the now empty glass back to Harry.
“Good girl,” he joked, light laughter lacing each word. “Sit yourself down.”
Wearing an amused and quizzical expression, you let yourself sink down into the wooden chair. Resting your chin on your hand, you spun slightly in your seat to keep your eyes on Harry as he placed the glasses down and lifted the hatch so he could step behind the bar. 
With your free hand, you started to tap the worn beer coaster labelled with the Cheshire Brewhouse logo against the table. Part of you hated how Harry had a knack for anything, including knowing his way around a bar. 
He busied himself with collating the glasses once more as you let your eyes take in the surroundings you had known, loved and even grown out of. 
Your parent’s pub was cosy and friendly. A truly 
classic and quintessential British village pub, featuring open fires, bookcases found in the very far corner or the jukebox in the other, lots of old oak and a really pleasant garden with benches for the summat and heaters for the winter. You know the kind that had its regulars that had kids who had seen each other grow up.
The bar was the centre of the pubs house, with an extensive array of whiskies amongst many other delights. A nice range of local ales and a well-balanced, great quality list of wines on offer designed (which you would be taste testing if the service hadn’t decided to take a break) to complement the food menus designed daily by a team of chefs who all have a passion for great cooking using fresh, seasonal and local ingredients.
It looked as Christmassy as Christmas could get, with a real tree which was locally sourced from one of the many surrounding farms and traditionally decorated with golds and reds. Twinkly lights shone, not only on the trees but as part of the garland that was hung above the bar each year, much to the annoyance of your Dad and the delight of your Mum.
Slowly dragging your eyes back to the bar, you watched Harry as he poured you another glass of white wine and started to recap the bottle. He must’ve felt your eyes on him, his gaze meeting yours almost immediately. 
“Service is a bit slow,” you jibed, once you knew he was with you. “Going to ruin the reputation of a fine establishment.”
His chuckle was breathy in response, but warmed you through as he turned his back and pushed his tumbler glass up against the device at the bottom of the Glenfiddich distilled malt whiskey, not once but twice going for a double. 
“Helping yourself to the stock now, as well.” 
“‘M sure your Dad won’t mind,” he responded, twisting his body back around to reach for your own glass and place it onto a tray that sat along the bar top. “In fact he’d probably make a comment about how it’d put hairs on m’chest.”
You laughed, unrestrained, knowing just how right he had been with that comment. 
Over the otherside of the room, Harry smiled and shushed you as he walked closer, easily holding the tray with your drinks upon it. “Being a bit loud,” he taunted as he slid the tray down to the oak table.
“Oh, now you’re concerned about the noise.”
With his hand against the back of the chair which was currently housing your outstretched legs, you felt him start to wobble the seat to give you a warning. 
“Hang on,” you said, “Plenty of other chairs.”
“This one’s mine,” he responded.
Wanting to roll your eyes but deciding not to, you let your legs drop down and gave the seat back to Harry. Once he was comfortable and he’d taken your drink off the tray, he gestured with his right hand.
Not entirely focused, he had to do the ‘come hither’ motion a couple of times before you finally cottoned on. He was willing to let you put your legs on his lap instead, while he may have taken the seat it didn’t mean he wanted to take away your comfort.
No sooner had your legs been raised to rest against his tan washed velvet corduroy trousers, was he fiddling with the buckle of your stiletto sandals.
“Got mud everywhere,” you commented, wiggling your toes that were painted a festive red and inspecting the little dots of dirt that were splattered against your skin, as Harry dropped the first shoe to the floor and quickly worked on the second. “Dread to think what they smell like.”
“Smell alrigh’ from ‘ere,” he mused, smirk faint but glaring obvious in his tone of voice as he threw a quick and mischievous glance at you. As you elongated your foot against his thighs, the tips of your toes were just about able to press into his thick jumper to try and jab at him for his comment. 
Before you were able to put any sort of force behind your action, Harry’s hand clamped down around the top of your foot causing your eyes to snap up away from his hand and up to his eyes.
There he sat watching you, top two teeth pressed into his bottom lip keep his smile at bay. Releasing his lips slowly, his whispered threat left his throat, “I will tickle.”
You tried to fidget away but to no avail. With a whined laugh, you frowned as Harry goaded you by slowly raising his eyebrows. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
You had tried him. 
Truth be told you wanted to again.
If he wanted to.
Reaching for your wine, you took a hefty sip and let the silence swallow you both. Harry, who kept his hand on your foot and his fingers dancing gently against the top, let his head fall back awkwardly against the hardwood. His head dropped to the side taking in his surroundings and their familiarity. 
“Do you ever get tired of coming back?” 
You hummed, sure you had misheard due to the way the blood was rushing around your ears. He turned to look at you, all double chin and puffy cheeks.
“Of everything being the same, but different?”
His whispers captivated you, hushed confessions not quite meant for anyone else but his own mind yet spilling from him with such an ease that he did nothing to fight them. 
“I’ll admit, I come home for other people. Not for me.”
“People?”
“Mum, Dad,” you paused. “You.”
His smile deepened. His chin knocking down to his chest, his eyes looking up at you from underneath his curling hair from being caught in the moist winter evening just hours before.
“You can stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you did three nights ago.”
Harry breathed in deeply, his nostrils flaring and his chest expanding. A lick of his lips, before his mouth dropped to sit slightly agape. 
“What if I don’t wan’to? What if I want t’look at yer like this all the time?”
You found yourself unable to respond, nose burying itself into your wine glass as you pressed your lips against the cool outside to try and hide your burning smile. 
His lips curled lightly, before he breathed a laugh once and gently shook your foot with his hand. “Eh? Come ‘ere-“
“Harry,” you breathed.
“C’mon, c’mere. ‘S room for more than just your feet.”
If it wasn’t for the creak of your chair as you slowly started to push yourself out of it, you wouldn’t have consciously been aware of how you were making your way to him. 
His body relaxed, somehow managing to become closer to horizontal than sitting upright in his seat, as he peered as you walking the short distance over to him. 
With his legs widened, he pressed his face into your side now that you were close enough. His nose inhaled the familiar scent of your perfume which was only faint now due to the other senses and scents it had mixed with throughout the evening.
Rolling his face out of your body, he knocked his head back and pressed his chin where his face had been. The face you showed him was worn with worry, an expression he did not want to meet.
“‘S wrong?”
His ask was lazy. Not wanting to dig deep and know. What if he didn’t like what he found? 
“We know how this is going to end.”
“Do we?” He prodded. His eyes moved over your features quickly before they partly disappeared to him, thanks to your curtain of hair which slowly fell down.
His hand reached up, desperately brushing it away and cupping at the back of your head as best as he could while he remained seated. 
“How’s that? Tell me.”
“Same, but different.” 
You knew you shouldn’t use his words, not in a way that could be considered against him, but they - in the most ambiguous of ways - described everything perfectly. 
“Not if I have my way.” 
His words were almost lost against your stomach as he pressed his face against you once more and wrapped his hands around you; sweaty, nervous palms pressing to the backs of your thighs. 
“Same, but better.”
Harry guided you down to his lap, his lips somehow managing to remain pressed into stomach, or your chest, or your clavicle, as your face became level with his. 
“Different, but better.” 
He kissed against your cheek slowly, nose nudging at your skin as he willed for you to relax against him. “I don’t know how you like it, like this,” he whispered in confession. “Show me?”
A puff of air left your lips as you turned to look at him with hooded eyes. His mouth was closer to yours than you originally thought, corners of lips brushing as you slightly pulled away. 
When your lips met, it was in the softest of pecks that trembled under your nerves. Both sets of eyes looking back at each other as you innocently engaged. 
If you were to take your eyes away from him in any way, you would notice those fluffy curls of his falling over his forehead and the lightest dusting of red blush making itself known against his cheeks and the tops of his ears.
He felt like a school boy, lost and clumsy. The kid who was once again flicking paper at you in science class just so he could pull a face at you over something your teacher was saying to get you to laugh. 
Mouths hovering over each other, your breathing mixed, as Harry nodded to you slightly. You pressed your lips to his once more, feeling the way he gradually opened up to you, warmed and softened underneath the puckering of your mouth against his. 
His hands, that slightly trembled, smoothed over your hips trying to pull your body so that it was more so flush against his. You moaned softly, your hands running over his jumper covered shoulders, fingers digging and pulling at the material just below the nape of his neck. 
The chair beneath you moved lightly against the floor, not quite a scrape but a dull drag. Neither of you broke the kiss, but his hands against you allowed fingers to dig in to hold you steady to him so if you were to fall from where you were sitting, he still had you. 
His lips slowed, moving to press against your cheeks again as he panted and his warmth breath bounced off your skin. “Think I got it,” he heaved. 
“Do you?”
Harry hummed his ‘yea’, before pressing his lips so tenderly to your chin and the underside of your jaw. He felt how you swallowed heavily, throat dry from the way your mouth hung open and your neck further exposed itself as you lolled your head back. 
You were falling further and further back, finding it hard to stay upright as he devoured you and made you weaker with each pulling kiss. His groans were needy, muffled and making your ache. While yours were silent and making his desperate to pull something from you. To build is confidence in that he was doing something right, you liked it this way too. 
Hands fumbled and dragged upwards at your skirt, faintly aware now how it was similar - if not the same one - to the garment you wore to his show. 
“Gonna take this off properly,” he mumbled, feeling the way your hips moved slightly from his hands to roll over him. 
“You don’t have to-“
“No?” 
Your voices were rushed as you spoke to each other, barely audible but loud enough all the same. His head was knocked back slightly as you hovered over him and you found yourself admiring his blissed out face even only in the lead up.
This was a sight that you hadn’t received last time, and if you had your way it was one you were going to greedily enjoy in all its glory.
Like watching the way his eyes closed and he softly grinned, the left side of his teeth started to show as the one side of his face reacted first while your hands blindly moved to lift up his jumper and the white tee he had on underneath, to allow you to find the button of his corduroys.
“What ya doing?”
“Nothing,” you mused. 
He pulled a face, the kind that down turned his lips, eyebrows raised and head slightly tilted to the side. The kind that had you smiling. 
“Not trying to get m’trousers around m’ankles for a second time within a week then?”
You giggled. “No.”
“Please do.”
A low moan left you as you pressed your forehead to his jaw and dropped your eyes. Your hands slowly started to pull at the brass button and pop it open before seeking out the zip thanks to his desperate plea, encouraging you to continue. 
Hands quickly sought out the waistband of the trousers and gently pulled at the item. From the way that you were sat, you knew there was no way you were doing to make them budge.
“Stand up fo’ me,” he mumbled, quickly helping you get off his lap so that he could make light work of his clothing and pull down his trousers and underwear. 
His bare bum made easy contact with the cushion leather beneath him, eyes carefully watching you as your hands moved to underneath your skirt. 
The fabric of your underwear slipped so easily down your legs, his eyes just about caught the sight of them as they pooled against your ankles and you kicked them away. 
Legs pressed together, you slowly untucked the v-necked blouse you had chosen and pulled it over your head. Wearing nothing but a fancy black bra, and a tight little skirt you hastily snatched for your wine and took a hefty gulp.
You could feel his eyes on you, a gruff groan catching in the back of his throat and when you finally turned your eyes from where they had been looking down at your heaving chest and how great this bra made your boobs look, causing him to move his hand down to start playing with himself. 
His name left your lips in a breathy gasp, causing you to look up quite surprised at the find of his right hand gently tugging at his hard length.
“Keepin’ me waitin’,” he groaned, his left hand sloppily reached for the back of the collar of his jumper and tee, pulling the item roughly over his head.
“Fuck sake,” he mumbled under his breath, agitated that he was unable to get both items of in one go.
“Smooth.”
Harry stared up at you with a playful squint, before he gently fell back and moved the chair as he did so, the dull scrape heard once more. 
And if you didn’t know he was flushed before, when you first kissed, you were definitely aware now. His eyes were blown out and hungry as they devoured you. Hair wildly haphazard before he let go of himself with a soft slap of his skin and harshly pushed his fingers through it.
“‘S it still a couple of quid for a strip of three,” his words brought you back to him. This smugness radiated off of him as he groaned and leaned forward to push his trousers down all of the way. Over his vans and socked feet, before he toed them off as well be harshly pulled at his white sport socks. 
You didn’t even need for him to explain what he meant, staying silent as you watched his hands tug at his corduroys from the floor and retrieve his wallet. As his fingers moved around to find a couple of quid, the jangle of the coins was taunting. 
One leg crossed over the other, you swayed and found yourself blushing when he looked up at you once he’d managed to find enough money and then some. With his wallet thrown on the table, he stood proudly from the seat and closed the short gap between your both.
Leaning forward he easily took your lips with his own before pulling away. With his face still close to yours he whispered, “Promise not to look at my arse.”
He didn’t hang around long enough for your reply, instead turning away and brazenly giving you all the time you would ever need to admire him, his fantastic bum and his hairy legs before he opted for a jog-walk type of thing, suddenly conscious that he was absolutely walking around naked from the waist down in a pub owned by your parents. 
While you waited you took a quick pull from his whiskey, needing the heftier burn for Dutch courage. Nervousness returned when you heard the endings of what you believed to be Harry whistling. 
“Machine ate all m’fuckin’ change,” he grumbled, regardless of the twinkle in his eye at the strip of overpriced condoms he had managed to score from the men’s bathroom. “‘S Durex. Business must be booming, your Dad’s definitely gone up in the world.” 
“Please don’t talk about my Dad.”
He smiled brightly before he reached for your face with one hand and pulled you towards him mumbling his ‘sorry’s’ against your lips as he gave you several kisses in quick succession. 
His other arm loosely wrapped around your back and pulled you with him as he walked backwards and slowly lowered himself back onto his previous seat. The chair creaked as you joined him, slipping into his lap and feeling the way he was smiling now.
Pulling away from your kiss, he quickly tore away one of the condoms allowing the others to fall without much care to the floor. Teeth took a hold of the foil-like packaging and he tore it not so elegantly with his eagerness.
With his cock nestled in the crease of his own thigh now, the heat radiating from it matched your own agonising yearning. Scooting back to give him space, you heard him groan as he gently rolled the condom down onto himself. Eyes looking up just in time to see him knocking his head back and breathing deeply through nose. The foil-like packaging was back in between his teeth once more as his hands were otherwise preoccupied.
Slowly your hand reached up to take it from his mouth, feeling some playful resistance as Harry continued to hold it in his teeth. His eyes were open and boyishly sincere, as you tugged at the item and he finally released it when you lightly laughed. 
“Gi’me a kiss.”
Obliging him, you leant forward and slotted your mouths together a lot easier than you had done at the start of the night. A heat built easily between the two of you, as Harry gave you his tongue and you felt the flex of his jaw under your hand as he worked your mouths together.
He was eager, his hands tightening on your waist before he growled when he understood he had to grab handfuls of skirt before he could cup your backside. But when his skin met yours and you ground down onto his lap, the groan that left him was the most animalistic sound imaginable. 
The frown your face fell into showed your desire to whimper, as he kept you atop him and marvelled in the way you writhed, both from satisfaction and keenness at the pressure of his cock against you. 
“Can I have you again?” He asked, the startings of sweaty hair being pushed off your face. His eyes peered at you, searching for his answer as you seemed to be able to do nothing but pant and look back at him yearningly. “Are you letting me?”
You dragged your fingers down his t-shirt covered torso and lifted it slightly just to see the quiver of his stomach as pulled you onto him once more. 
“Like this?” you voiced, meekly.
“‘F this is what you like then, yea’”, he breathed into your mouth, hands shifting your pliant body. “Is this what you want?”
You wordlessly nod, mouth falling open in a breathy gasp when he managed to move you so he sat so enticingly at your entrance. He was teasing both yourself and him, wanting to keep you both on the edge. 
Harry blinked a few times as he looked at you, and you revelled in the way he couldn’t seem to concentrate. His hands held your flesh tightly, fingertips dipping into the skin of your bum cheeks as he gently guided you down.
An unattractive and dull, quite strangled noise, left your throat as you let your forehead fall against his temple. Eyes falling down you see the cups of your bra fall slack, you felt his hands softly gliding over your shoulder blades and shoulders. 
He rid you of your bra, hands moving to your chest to squeeze your breasts. His jaw fell slack when you found yourself sitting snugly on his lap - on him - settled and already feeling spent.
This was so different compared to the last time; if not overwhelming so because of the way you both appeared to be so present. Each movement of your hips, and the way they rolled and grinded and dragged felt too much. So much so that you had become nothing more than a mess of short, quick breathing and blushing, sweaty cheeks. 
Slack-jaw, you were unable to find it in you to return Harry’s kisses, and his joyful, breathy chuckle seemed to lead you to believe he was fine with it. In fact he was happy to keep going as you were. 
Your movements were frantic, and despite the build up, not entirely driven by lust either. Harry continued to encourage you to move as you were; slow, grinding motions on his lap that caused the filthiest of groans and dirtiest of laughs from the two of you. Laughter that was only made stronger as the chair that held you both started to creak too. 
You couldn’t do much about it though other than to breathe into each other’s mouth, and rock your hips together with more fervour each time. 
“Yea’,” he breathed against your lips, left hand at the back of your head holding you to him, while his right rested just above your bum. “‘S better. That’s better.”
It was better. Better than last time. Better than anything before. 
And while it hadn’t been frantic before, it was now as your legs that were hanging down either side of the chair started to tremble and your toes started to dig into the worn carpet beneath them. Hips knocking and your clit dragging heavenly against his public bone, you grasped his name as you buried your face into his neck and dug your nails into his nape.
Harry hissed his approval which fell to a groan as your nails pushed up into his hair and lightly pulled as you sought leverage. There were so many things you were learning this time around and his penchant for liking his hair pulled from time to time, was one of those things. 
“God, ‘m gonna come soon,” he admitted, gruntly as he forced your hips down as he anchored his legs and widened his seating position. “Are you close?”
“Yeah,” you whined. “Yes. Like this-“
And as you pressed your face to his once more, he was everywhere. Soft but hard, loving but commanding. Smelled like clean washing detergent but of country air. Inviting and alluring, allowing you your lingering kisses between grounding breaths that became staccato in unison with the movement of your hips. 
You aren’t ashamed of the whines that escaped your throat as you squeezed down on his cock, praised by indecipherable works that left Harry but were nothing more to you than lips moving against your rough and dry ones. Word that made the burning feeling of your pending orgasm spread through your entire body, warming you and setting you alight.
It was long and deep, with your toes curling into the carpet they were pressed against now. Barely able to catch your breath, sucking in harshly and shaking. 
And when you came to, thoroughly exhausted, you noticed that he was waiting for your say so. That he could let go and enjoy the pleasure brought about by your shared labour. 
“Coming-“ was all the warning that you got and was enough to encourage you to watch him as he came, his face completely void of anything other than pure pleasure. Wrinkles and frowns fade, his mouth falling open with his pink lips glinting prettily under the dim Christmas lights around you.
His forehead gleamed with sweat as he wrapped his arms around you tightly and his hips bucked up one, two and three times for good measure. “Fuck me,” he heaved gruffly.
You were suddenly desperate to feel his lips on yours despite the way you both continued to fight to get your breath back, but settled for resting them against the skin of his cheek, which was hot to the touch. 
When you felt Harry start to go soft, you reluctantly pulled away and let him slip out of you. He wasn’t so keen to let you get too far, holding you just that bit higher than before with his hand cupping gently but firmly at your hip. “Where’d you think you’re going,” he hummed, eyes still closed as he continued to heavily inhale and exhale. 
You softly smiled, taking in his soft face and responded by nuzzling close to him again. 
Nowhere. Somewhere. Anywhere with him.
A place where only the two of you knew, like the back of your hand. The same way you knew each other. Now and possibly forever.
564 notes · View notes
harrytheehottie · 3 years
Text
ROCKIN’ AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE
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summary: you just started dating harry and he invites you home for christmas (alternatively title, rockin’ around the boxing day table) 
word count: 5.3k (woah)
warnings: mature
a/n: hello! this is my contribution to day 2 of @goldenbluesuit​‘s 25 days of christmas fic challenge! kate thank you for putting this challenge together it was so fun to write! this is completely self-indulgent (i mean isn’t everything on this blog!) i hope you guys enjoy! merry christmas and happy holidays 🎄
masterlist | i'd love to hear your thoughts!
The noise downstairs was getting a bit overwhelming. You were being introduced to so many new faces in such a short amount of time and after the tenth explanation of what you do for a living you ventured upstairs to decompress. It takes you a few minutes to convince yourself it’s okay to leave the noise and have a few minutes of solitude. You head into the kitchen first grabbing yourself a cup of water to offset the alcohol that you had been drinking all night. As you make it to the top of the stairs you are now dealt with the dilemma of picking which room to enter. You stand in front of the first door pressing your ear against the frame so you could try to listen for if anyone was already in the room. 
“S’not very nice to go snooping around somebody's house,” you hear someone say as they come up the steps. Shit, you think to yourself before your eyes go wide and your body turns to see who is behind you and it is none other than Harry Styles. The heartthrob turned global superstar and tonight, he was scolding you for escaping the party downstairs. 
“Quitting your day job to start doing security?” You reply, raising your brow, your hand still resting on the door knob. You’re trying to give him exactly what he was giving you. He chuckles to himself at your response before finally making his way to the second landing. 
You knew when Harry got to the party because suddenly everyone's attention turned to him. It was something you’ve noticed quite a few times his ability to walk into a room and just immediately be the center of attention. Your job at Radio 1 prohibited you from ever really crossing paths with Harry, you were always in the production booth moving around from room to room. Tonight was different. He walked in wearing a brown overcoat with a gray hoodie and a pair of jeans underneath. His hair was pushed back with his sunglasses a bold choice for 8pm in the middle of winter but it wasn’t Harry Styles if he wasn’t making bold choices. 
“Maybe, or maybe we both had the brilliantly unique idea of sneaking upstairs,” Harry says his lips curving up in a smile. You didn’t know if he was just being charming or actually flirting with you. You try not to think too much into it before replying, 
“Well, it looks like this room is empty,” you turn the doorknob that you have a hold on as you open the door wider. You stand in the doorway taking in the room that has nothing but a desk in the corner facing the window, a single chair on the other side of the room and a mattress on the floor.
“Looks like Grimshaw is going to need that interior designer he was debating on,” Harry says, startling you, again. You turn your head over your shoulder and he is basically on top of you. 
You move into the room and he follows. You take a seat on one end of the mattress pushing your legs on top of one another so you’re sitting criss-cross on the bed and Harry tries to do the same. His limbs being a bit too long to find a comfortable position.
“You can just lay down, it might be easier,” you say laughing as he struggles. 
“Oh, was that your master plan? Get me up here and have me however you want?” Harry questions with a smug look on his face. 
“If I recall, you were following me?” You raise your eyebrows as Harry mumbles touché under his breath while he rearranges himself on the mattress. He holds himself up with his right arm, his palm glued to his cheek. 
You bottled that moment up. You took in every inch of him as he laid there with his feet dangling off the end of the bed. You felt like you were in a movie, the boy everyone desired snuck with you upstairs but with no ulterior motives. The door was closed but you could still hear the faint noises coming from downstairs. 
“You know I’ve been dying to ask you something,” Harry says looking up at you from his spot. 
You have a questioning look on your face, “Harry Styles has been dying to ask me something? I’m intrigued,” you say gesturing for him to go on. 
“Is there a reason you’ve been dodging me at Radio1?” He asks with a straight look on his face and as soon as he finished his question you were already rolling your eyes. 
“Dodging you?” 
“Yes, dodging me,” he mimics your voice.
You let his question linger in the room. You maneuvered your legs out from under you and you laid back on the bed in a similar position to Harry so now you were eye to eye. You were feeling loose, you weren’t 
“If you wanted to meet me why didn’t you just ask?�� 
This time you’re the one with a smirk on your face. You have been schmoozed at a party by a stranger plenty of times to know the typical lines that men play to get you upstairs or in a bathroom but something told you this was different. He was different. 
&&
London in December feels a bit more magical. You walk past couples on your way to the train after work. You cut in and out of Oxford Circus walking past store’s with the most extravagant window displays, couples that are walking hand and hand probably on their way to the Christmas Markets. Normally, you would have rolled your eyes at them muttering curse words under your breath but now, you look around and admire it all because you have someone to take it all in with. 
It’s been two months since the party where you and Harry first met. You spent the entire night in that room and not once did either of you feel uncomfortable. He asked you all about your job and how you deal with the go-go-go and you did the same, in awe of his ability to walk into a room and have all eyes on him even in spaces that weren’t phased by celebrity faces. He always brushed it off saying, “if I let myself become aware of it all that’s when I get an ego.”
Harry has the entire month of December off which works well for your new relationship. You spend almost everyday at one another’s respective homes, usually Harry’s because he doesn’t have a nosy roommate that want’s the details of your very pleasant sex life. It’s odd being in a new relationship during the holidays. If you were together a bit longer you would want to invite Harry to your families just to spend ten days doing fuck-all and eating all the chocalte oranges your mom could source from Tesco. 
The train is about a three minute walk from your work so when you see a call coming in from Harry you pick up even though it’ll a short call, 
“Hello, you’re still coming over right?” Harry asks from the other line
“Yes, just got off work and am walking to the train now. Are you busy? Do you need to reschedule?” I ask double checking if I wasn’t intruding on any plans.
“Nope actually far from busy, I’m on my third walk of the day and just got off the phone with my mum before calling in our order for takeaway,” Harry says enthusiastically. He has a tendency to be constantly on the go. It's something you noticed about him from the start. He was always moving, or playing an instrument or rapidly writing things down in his journal.
“Third walk of the day? We should get you to teach a SoulCycle class or something to let all the energy go to good use.”
“I think all my energy gets used very well unless I am hearing some complaints from my partner then I am all ears,” he is chuckling before he can even get his words out.
“You’re so annoying,” you say before laughing a little bit yourself. Harry’s ability to add sex to any conversation is stupidly endearing and you just blame it on being in the honeymoon phase. “You talked to your mom? How is she?” You haven’t met his mom yet but with the way Harry talks about her you know she has to be the kindest woman out there. 
“She’s good, she misses me and Gem and is excited to see us for Christmas. She really wants to meet you,” He says from the other line you can tell he is tip-toeing around his words before continuing, “She actually mentioned you coming over the day after Christmas,” 
“What?” You quickly reply without thinking. His mom wants you to come over the day after Christmas? Isn’t it too early in your relationship? Does the day after Christmas even hold any value?
“Don’t act too excited,” Harry chuckles from the other end of the line, “She just… I’ve been telling her a lot about you and I know it’s early but I-we, want you there.” 
Your mind is racing and you can feel your legs picking up speed as you walk towards the train. You don’t even realize you haven’t replied until you tap your Oyster at the ticket station and you’re on the other side. 
“How about we talk about this when you get here?” Harry says with a sense of calm in his voice and before you know it and without thinking again you speak up. 
“The first time I meet your mom cannot be on fucking Boxing Day.” is the last thing you say before losing signal on the Underground. 
You can’t help but think about the conversation you just had on the entire journey to Harry’s. Boxing Day is not even a real holiday, it’s just an excuse to sit around, eat leftovers and play board games. That is not the circumstances you want to be in when meeting your very new boyfriend's Mother. You want it to be like the movies, where you’d arrive the day before Christmas Eve with all your presents in tow making sure you didn’t forget the matching pajamas that you’d be wearing on Christmas morning. You’d enjoy a night in, helping his Mum in the kitchen Christmas music playing throughout the entire house. You’d play up the “so, where do you want me sleeping?” act and Harry would shake his head because he already told you, “I’m 26, she knows I have sex.” in which you threw a pillow at him to get him to shut up. If you were going to meet his family during the holidays that is the only way that you wanted it not the day after Christmas where everyone is miserable and ready to go back to their respective homes. 
You’d be lying to yourself if nerves weren’t playing a huge factor in your attitude. You can’t stop thinking about all the things that could go wrong, meeting the parents is one thing but being introduced to his entire family is another. You know it was inevitable the natural progression of any relationship, after a few months of just focusing on one another and slowly introducing one another to your respective friend groups you’d move into meeting each other's families, the real test. 
You rounded the corner of Hampstead High Street and made your way towards his house. You were trying to think of how you were going to approach the conversation. You put the code into Harry’s lockbox and the gate to his house opens and quickly closes behind you. You are greeted with a hello from the night manager that is always sat in a car in the driveaway, an aspect of Harry’s life you had to quickly get used to. 
“In the kitchen!” Harry yells as you take your shoes off and hang my coat and bag in the front closet. Harry gave you the key to his house a few weeks into your relationship, having known each other for several months before actually dating he felt as though he could trust you. It was an indicator that he was in this with you or as he stated one day over breakfast, “I just need someone to check the mail while I’m away that’s all.” In which he was met with your hand in the smack middle of his chest as you tried to hold your laughter in. 
It took awhile for Harry’s house to feel like home to you. You tiptoed around the first few times he asked you to spend the night, asking if it was okay to go to the bathroom, always waiting for him to get out of bed and head downstairs so you could too. Harry picked up on your hesitations and nonchalantly one night told you, “this place is your too, ya know” and from then on you knew. 
“Good day at work?” Harry asks from his kitchen island, plating up some of the best Indian takeaway that London can offer for us. He is dressed down in your favorite way, he has on a pair of black joggers and one of his gray sample hoodies from when they were planning out merch, the off center embroidery always made you laugh. You move across the island and find your spot next to Harry, he moves his head down to his right and meets you halfway for a kiss. 
This early onto your relationship you haven’t had many arguments and you know ignoring the issue isn’t going to solve it. You let yourself forget it for a moment but you won’t let it become the elephant in the room. 
“Work was work, only a week left until the holiday break so not much to complain about really,” you grab open up the can of Coke that is waiting for you on the counter watching Harry fiddle with all the takeaway boxes. He successfully moves all the food from the boxes to different plates and you begin bringing them over to the living room placing the plates on the coffee table in front of the couch where you and Harry were going to spend the night watching TOWIE. 
Harry rounds the corner of the couch with the final bits of food. He sits down next to you letting out a huge sigh as you turn the TV on and play an episode the two of you have watched for what felt like a hundredth time. You’ve always thought about how easy your relationship with Harry has been. There really isn’t much to complain about two months into anything but it’s like you were each other's missing piece. 
“Christmas is in a few weeks,” he says, easing the conversation back towards the one you were having earlier on the phone. He has his feet up on the table, his plate situated on his lap with his torse hunched forward giving himself easier access to his mouth with minimal spillage but with Harry, that was a lost cause. 
“It is,” you say as you nod your head and Harry straightens up, placing his plate on the table. “I would love to meet your family Harry but don’t you think it’s too early?” You have calmed down since he nonchalantly threw the invite into your conversation but you were still hesitant.
“I want you there and Christmas will be over, you have nothing to worry about.” He adjusts his body so he is now completely facing you and his left side is pressed to the back of the couch. 
“It’s the day after Christmas which is basically still Christmas of course I have things to worry about! It’s the 15th of December I have to buy your mom a gift! And Gemma?” You spill out all the things you were thinking about earlier. If one thing men are good at it’s poor time-management and the inability to let their partners know about things and Harry is really acing it right now. 
“I can put your name on the gifts I have for them,” his wide eyes filled with enthusiasm like he has everything planned out for me.
You take a deep breath in, “If I’m meeting your mom for the first time I”m not going to show up empty handed. I was raised better than that thank you very much!” 
Harry does that stupid smile he was does where it looks like you can see all of his teeth and his dimples take up the entire perimeter of his face, “So, you’re going to come?” 
You pick up the pillow between, “fine,” you say before throwing the pillow at Harry to wipe the smirk off his face, “I’m going but not for you, for your mom and Gemma. I am bringing my own gifts and you can’t tell them about this tiff, okay?” You say to Harry and he catches the pillow before it has the chance to hit him and before you know it he is cupping your face with his hands and kisses all around your face. 
“You’re coming home for Christmas!” He screams like he is eight years old and just met Santa and you can’t help but laugh.
“I want to apologize for earlier I was just in over my head thinking about all the things that can go wrong. I mean, what are we going to say when someone asks how we met? We sat in a room at a party and talked all night?” You are talking yourself through your emotions and when Harry moves his hand in yours, a nonverbal cue that you can keep going, you know that this relationship is different. “It just like - isn’t the way I want your mom to see me not that there's anything  wrong with it…” 
“Well,” he looks at the nonexistent watch on his wrist, “looks like we have about 
You laugh at his suggestion and just take the moment in. 
&&
The plan was you would spend Christmas with your family and then drive up to Cheshire the following morning to spend the day with Harry and his family. 
You spent a full week walking all around Oxford Circus trying to find the perfect gifts for both Anne and Gemma. Harry was telling you that you were overthinking it but meeting the most important women in said boyfriends life? You felt like you weren’t thinking enough. After hours of looking up different gift guides and asking Harry a million different questions you settled on a set of Diptyque candles and English Breakfast Tea from your favorite indie cafe. 
You and Harry exchanged gifts the night before he left for Cheshire. You cozied up on the couch in your favorite pajamas. Harry had his hair clipped back and was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement for you to open your gifts. He had it all wrapped in silver paper with little snowmen plastered all around them which you thought was quite endearing. Harry’s gift to you knock yours out of the park. A moleskine journal for the new year, a gold plated name-plate and last but certainly not least a weekend trip booked for the Soho Farmhouse, 
“You, me and endless amounts of time spent in the bath!” Harry said as you practically launched yourself at him with excitement.  
“My present is shit compared to this, I don’t want to give it to you. Can I get a do-over?” You attempt to grab the one box that is in front of him and he gets to them quicker than you.
“Whatever it is, I’m going to love it,” he says firmly while unwrapping the first package. You intently watch him as he takes his time with the package you know he’s doing this just to annoy you.
“Hurry!”
“Alright, alright,” he moves faster this time treating the package like he’s a toddler. He finally opens the package and looks up at you as he sees the package below him, “You didn’t?” You nod your head as he takes out the gift, an original pressing of Joni Mitchell’s Blue album. “How? I’ve been trying to source one for two years now.”
You shrug your shoulder and say, “I guess I just know the right people,” before moving your face closer to his to give him a kiss. Harry lets go of the vinyl in his hand and places it next to him giving you more room to get closer to him. 
Your first Christmas and you both knocked it out of the park. 
&&
You’ve been at Anne’s for a few hours now and you know it’s cheesy but you feel like you’re at home. Anne took you in with a warm embrace and quickly had chocolates and tea ready for you to consume. You were quickly roped into a game of Family Fortunes and you knew Harry wasn’t going to let you guys lose. 
“A pet-name that you would use for a significant other” Chloe says from her seat. It was you, Harry, Gemma and Anne’s turn to say your answers. 
Anne went first, “Sweetheart?” which earned a quick nod from Chloe. 
It was Harry’s turn and he took a moment before landing on, “Darling?” He said questioning himself but you knew he was leaving a sense of doubt in the opposing team’s minds because if Harry knew one thing it’s pet names. 
Chloe nods again and quickly it’s Gemma’s turn, “Baby?” 
“C’mon Gem! No!” Harry yells out like it’s the 88th minute of a football match and she just missed a crucial goal. Harry looks back at you with the most intense eyes, “Be smart with this, it’s sticky stuff!” Harry says with pointy fingers and all. 
You know what he’s hinting at but you also know if you mess this up Harry is going to be a sore loser so you wait a moment as everyone in the room looks to you. You make eye contact with Chloe who is eagerly looking at you while looking down at her cards, “Honey?” 
And before Chloe is able to nod Harry jumps up from his seat in excitement. He swivels his body around and screams, “that's my girl!” Everyone erupted into laughter as Harry became more obnoxious as the game went on. 
&&
The game was over and you were all waiting for dinner, you were sat next to Harry on the couch when the next song on the playlist came on, 
“Would you like to have a dance?” He whispers in your ear.
“Right now?” You ask, confused by his sudden urge to dance.
“Yeah, s’one of my favorite Christmas songs,” Harry says before getting up from his spot and holding a hand out for you to grab. You can hear the sounds of Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree playing from the speakers. You have a moment of hesitation not wanting to take up any attention but the thought was gone as quickly as it came as you took Harry’s hand and started swaying back and forth. 
“Mum! They’re dancing!” Gemma yelled for Anne from her spot earning a tongue out face from Harry. She was teasing him and you knew he was loving it. 
It was only a minute before everyone in the room found their respective dance partner and started swaying back and forth, Harry leaving you for half a second to dance with his mum who stood in the kitchen watching in awe of you two. 
It was at that moment you knew you made the right choice to come to your new-officially boyfriend's family Christmas even if it was on Boxing Day. 
&&
You and Harry were the only ones to make it through the entirety of Love Actually, Anne was the first to call it a night and quickly Gemma and Mike followed half-way through the film leaving you and Harry alone in the living room. 
“Knackered,” Harry yawned from the opposite end of the L shaped couch rubbing his hands against his eyes before going to grab the remote to turn off the TV. You get off the couch and follow Harry up the stairs and to his bedroom. This house isn’t the one that he grew up in as Anne became an empty-nester she wanted to start off fresh and Harry wanted to do something nice for the woman that raised him so this two story farm-style house was the product. 
His room still looks like a bedroom a young boy would still have in his mom’s house maybe give or take a few less posters of Jennifer Aniston on the walls. The bed is set in the middle of the room, a desk facing the window and a wall of bookshelves. Two pictures sit on his nightstand, one of his late step-father Robin wearing an outfit of Harry’s and a family photo of the four of them in the back garden of Harry’s house in London.
“Do you have any questions on what you’re seeing?”
You turn around and Harry is just watching you take in his room from the doorway and it feels intimate sure this isn’t his house anymore but it holds all the memories from his childhood through these pictures. 
You turn around, “Can’t a girl snoop in peace?” 
“Hmmm, I have plenty of other things we can do instead in mind,” Harry says before taking a few steps into the room and closing and locking the door behind him. 
“What could that possibly be?” You looked up at him with an inquisitive smirk you knew exactly what he was trying to say but you loved to rile him up even if it was just a little bit. 
Harry doesn’t speak, instead he catches your gaze and makes sure you watch him as he takes off the sweater that he was wearing all day and quickly removes the t-shirt that he had underneath as well. He was just about to reach for his joggers when you closed the gap between the two of you meeting your lips with his. Your mouth moving in unison after a moment of trying to find rhythm. You moved your hands wherever you could touch him and Harry did the same to you. You felt like a teenager sneaking off into your boyfriend's bedroom.
Harry got your clothes off and you moved from standing in his room to now laying on the bed. You were on top of him and you could feel him growing underneath you as you moved your hips as you deepened the kisses. 
Harry broke away from the kiss first and he pushes the hair out of your face before saying, “Is this a bad time to say I don’t have a condom?” 
“Harry,” you shake your head at him and move off of his lap and take a seat on his bed. He moves up from his lying position and aligns his back with his headboard. It’s too early in your relationship to have the no condom situation and you both know this isn’t the appropriate place to have this conversation. 
“I mean, we can still do other stuff?” 
You look over your shoulder and are met with the biggest grin. “It’s kind of hot, takes me back to my teen years trying to charm the pants off a girl.”
“Oh, so that’s why I’m here? So you can charm the pants off me?” You put on a deep monotone voice mimicking Harry. 
“Well, is it working?” 
“You’re going to have to show me and then ask me again.” 
Harry moves quickly, it’s like you blinked and he’s no longer laying beside you but now in front of you urging you to spread your legs apart. You oblige and just watch him as he slips your underwear off and pulls your legs forward. He leaves a few kisses on your inner thighs before going where you need him most. 
“So fuckin’ wet for me,” he says under his breathe and the anticipation sends goosebumps to your entire body. Harry starts by moving his pointer finger up and down your slit before moving towards your clit. You hold yourself up on your elbows to watch him just as he replaces his hand with his tongue moving from up and down. 
“Harry…” you say through a moan trying to keep as quiet as possible. He was loving this having you under him as he tasted how you made your feel.
“I want you to watch me okay?” He waits for your eyes to meet him before he moves his tongue towards your clit and pressing his middle and third finger inside you. You roll your eyes to the back of your head and move against his fingers and tongue. You’ve only been together for two months but Harry was on a mission to find out how to build you towards an orgasm and right now he was acting on it. 
“Harry,” you say a little too loudly your body was too consumed with pleasure and you catch yourself immediately slapping your hand on your mouth which makes Harry chuckle against you. 
He pumps his fingers inside you as he moves his tongue faster against your clit and your hips try to match his movements. You wrap your thighs around his face as you ride your orgasm out. He takes his fingers and licks them once by one - something that always drove you mad. 
You gesture for Harry to come up and you both lay back in your respective spots on the bed. This time, you’re the one going to make him feel good. You pull him out of his briefs and are met with a very evident hard-on. It turns you on how much eating you out turns him on and you couldn’t wait to return the favor. 
Harry is breathing heavy as he watches you wrap your hand around his base lazily pumping him. You swipe your tongue over his tip and the sounds of his moans consume you. You lick the head of his dick slowly and watch as his stomach flexes and his eyes fixate on you giving you cues that what you’re doing is driving him mental. You move your mouth around his cock and take as much of him in as you can before letting your lips pop. 
“Fuckin’ hell,” he groans as he grabs the back of your head with his hands encouraging you to keep moving up and down swirling your tongue around him as he moved his hips forward. “I’m gonna-” you move your mouth and your hands around him faster. You knew what he was playing at and you wanted to make him feel as good as he made you. The hold he had on your head was firmer just as the movement of his hips got faster he was coming undone before you and it was the second hottest thing to you, the first being him pleasuring you. He closed his eyes shut before dropping his hand from the back of your head and you could as he came inside your mouth. 
You wait for him to open his eyes again and look back at you as you lick your lips and swallow.
“Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me,” Harry shakes his head in disbelief as you go back to your space on the bed next to him. You lay your head on his chest watching him as he tried to catch his breath, “I’m really glad you came,” he says leaving a kiss on your forehead. 
“Me too.” 
576 notes · View notes
gucciwins · 3 years
Text
Frosty the Snowman
Harry and Y/N love the holiday season but Harry takes the teasing a bit to far and well Y/N decides to give it right back. 
Word Count: 5126
A/N: hello! thank you so much to @goldenbluesuit for organizing this wonderful christmas fic challenge. thank you for allowing me to participate, kate. i’m so happy i got to be a part of it. merry christmas and happy holidays to you all. sending you all a big hug and lots of love. 
_____
Christmas has never been much of importance in your life.
That was until you began dating Harry.
 Harry and his family loved celebrating in particular because Harry was gone for so many months of the year. They loved giving gifts, and Harry loved spoiling his family. He was a true family man who loved to be doted on by his mother and teased relentlessly by his older sister. His smile never leaves his face when he's with them.  
Ever since Harry found out how you spent the holidays alone drinking wine and hot chocolate on and off and binging all the best holiday movies. He declared that was not acceptable and that furthermore and until the end of time you would be spending it with him and his family. 
The first year was something out of a storybook, a house full of kids and adults, Christmas music all day, and a big festive dinner. Gifts passed around, photos being taken to be added to the end of year scrapbooks. Lots of stories being told; honestly, it overwhelmed you. 
Anne found you outside wrapped up in Harry's coat that you swiped before slipping out unseen. She stood next to you, overlooking her garden with you. "My son loves you; he's brought you here not to overwhelm you but to let you know that you have a family here, and you always will." You let your tears run free, feeling comforted, and loved. "I've never seen him shine as bright as he does when he's with you and when he's speaking of you. We all want you here as much as he does." Anne then pulled you into a long hug, the motherly hug you never got growing up.  Reminded you not to stay out too long. 
Three Christmases later, you now take part in family traditions, helping Anne cook dinner and staying in sweats and playing family games all of Boxing Day. 
It's what makes your move to London with your boyfriend of four years easy. Knowing they want you there, knowing that the love Harry has for you won't fade, you've gone through many hurdles together, and it only strengthened your bond to one another. 
Four years together, and you're still learning new things about each other, like Harry having to have coffee first thing in the morning, bread was a must-have always in the house, and that he owned more mugs than he needed. He picked up that you adored your shoes, meaning you wouldn't throw them out until they were ripped and beat up enough for a new pair. Also learned that you rather eat lots of fruit during the day than making food in the kitchen because it meant more dishes that would be needed to wash. You loved doing the laundry, Harry knew it was to steal his shirts, but he didn't mind. He always knew where to find them. 
The one thing that really surprised him was your love for Christmas music; you knew every song, maybe couldn't remember the name, but you would be able to sing it. It never failed to make him smile; you even knew ‘Feliz Navidad’ and didn't butcher it as he did. 
Your love for Christmas music was signified because you never celebrated the holiday, and music was easy to access. It was what you immersed yourself in. 
This is why Harry is confused when he hears you begin to sing ‘Frosty the Snowman’ under your breath, then switching to a soft hum in the tune of the song as you start to place your freshly washed sweats in their drawers. 
Harry was not sure why you did that; you loved singing out loud. You had a decent voice, as you liked to say, but why switch. 
You're clueless to Harry watching you, deep in thought, trying his best to analyze you. 
Then Harry gasps; it all clicks, making sense. 
You raise your head to look at him, shutting the drawer with your hip. "What?"
"You don't know the lyrics." Harry accuses. 
"To what?" You step towards the bed, wanting to finish the rest of this to finally go down and each lunch. 
"Frosty the Snowman."
"I do." You defend.
Harry smirks, crossing his arms. "Prove it."
"No." 
"Why not?"
You frown before taking a deep breath and begin to hum the song correctly to Harry. 
"Okay, you know the tune, now the lyrics." He gestures for you to go on.
"Frosty the snowman..." Your voice dies down, you rake your brain for the correct lyrics, sending a smaller prayer you're right. "had a shiny nose?" 
"Oh, this is golden, love." He's laughing now. It's filling up the room. 
"Harry," You whine. 
"You call yourself the Christmas Queen." Harry is holding his stomach, his laughter getting to be too much. "Next, you're going to tell me you don't know the lyrics to 'All I Want For Christmas Is You.'"
"How dare you, that came out in our birth year." You're over making fun of you. 
"Okay fine, but really so many years, and you never learned. You said you love all Christmas music, and well, that's a classic, dove."  
You run a hand through your hair, your fingers getting caught on the tips for not brushing it out. "I never actually got to make a snowman, so I never listened to the lyrics."
"Are you secretly a Grinch as well?" Harry teases.
You throw a balled-up shirt of his and hit him square in the face; it quiets him down. "Conversation over." 
You walk out of the room, leaving him alone, to his chuckling. 
_____
In your home, something was always baking. 
It was either Harry trying to better his last bread or you baking a new vegan cake that Gemma sent you. 
It's something you both loved to do.
For you, though, it was your own form of meditation. No matter the time of day, if you felt your head spinning, you'd just head to the kitchen and begin to take out ingredients letting that be your only focus. The Great British Baking Show also brings a lot of comfort to you, Harry happily laying his head on your lap, your hand running through his hair as you just let the show play on and on. 
Now, you're in the kitchen for a whole other reason; you're baking gingerbread cookies, from snowflakes to snowman and even little reindeer. Harry has invited friends over for a fun holiday decorating party. It sounded like a good idea until he left you to do it all yourself as he ran errands that he pushed off for a week. 
Thankfully, there were no distractions during the time it took you to make one hundred cookies because there would be casualties during the decorating. Just as you were putting the last dozen on the cooling rack, does your phone ring causing it to cut off Paul McCartney's singing of 'Wonderful Christmastime.'
As you pick it up to answer, you check the caller id and see that it's Gemma calling. 
Gemma forgoes a greeting and goes straight to the reason for her call. 
"You don't know 'Frosty the Snowman!'" She exclaims more than asks. 
"I'm going to kill him." You groan into the phone. 
Gemma laughs, "No, no, please don't. Mum likes you too much to see you behind bars."
"Gem, he's been relentless." Thinking back to the past few days and how he'd randomly come up to you and just begin to sing the lyrics to you, not shutting up until you tickled him too much to continue. "Please don't let it come up later." 
"I've got you," Gemma assures you. 
"Thank you."
"As long," Gemma begins, but you groan jokingly into the phone. 
"Go on," You sigh, knowing this is how the eldest Styles sibling acts.  
"As long as you tell me what Harry bought mum for Christmas."
"Alright, fair." Very well, Harry would most likely spoil this himself the closer the holiday arrives. 
Just as you were about to spoil Harry's gift, he walks through the kitchen, saved by the devil himself. "I'll tell you later when you get here." You tell Gemma, smiling at Harry as you bid his sister goodbye.  
"Who was it, love?" Harry asks, kissing you lightly on your lips, being able to taste the gingerbread on your lips that makes him beeline to the cooled cookies. 
"Gems, a huge birdie told her I don't know the lyrics to a popular song." You lean against the counter, smiling as he has a cookie in hand already; he is also a big reason you made so many. 
"Hey," He says, offended, a cookie half shoved in his mouth. "I'm not huge." 
"Never said it was you, hun." You smirk. "Thanks for fessing up."
He pouts, not liking that you outsmarted him. 
"Might want to watch the cookies." You pinch his love handles, snatching what was left of the cookie from his hand and heading upstairs. 
Harry watches you walk away, upset that you stole his cookie; also, he knows you love his winter gains. 
_____
You and Harry are up fairly early, he likes to go on a run around the neighborhood, but you like going to the park. This morning you skipped your run because Harry was meeting up with a friend for breakfast. 
Sure, you got up at your usual time at 7am and began to prepare yourself breakfast. You usually drank coffee with Harry and seeing as he wasn't here, you decided to skip it, instead going straight to the fridge to get the fruits and orange juice to make a smoothie. Something simple, not wanting to clean much after. 
As you finally settled on the couch, getting ready to read Educated by Tara Westover, a book Gemma recommended to her then gifted to her. Tara's memoir is her story of how she comes from a Mormon background and recounts how she educated herself to go to college and learn about the world. It's a Friday, and what better way to spend it lost in a book. 
You had just flipped it open when your phone rang, alerting you to a message. As much as you didn't want to check because you were finally in a comfortable position, you knew it could easily be Harry checking in who gets worried about not getting a reply even five minutes after. He's a worrier at heart. 
As you retrieve it and settle yourself back down, not at all comfortable anymore, you see it's a message from Iz. She was the first friend you made on your own that Harry didn't introduce you to. Iz saw you at a coffee shop you began to frequent and complimented your tote bag that had wildflowers embroidered on it. You thanked her and shared you made it. Iz was shocked, just throwing compliment after compliment. You offered to make her one, but she said you had better teach her instead. Thus, a friendship began. 
Her message read: 
Radio 1 Breakfast Show. Listen in! 
It was definitely a strange message coming from Iz, but you did as told. 
Greg James was saying goodbye to his special guest, no idea who it was. "Before he signs off, he's going to play you one of his favorite Christmas songs," Greg says, then silences, allowing his guest a moment before speaking. 
"This week's Christmas song is in honor of my girlfriend who loves singing Frosty the Snowman... without knowing the lyrics. Happy Holidays."  
Your jaw drops. 
That your boyfriend's voice. You are the girlfriend. 
He went on record. 
Harry really went on live radio to tell thousands that you don't know the lyrics to a Christmas classic. 
You want to laugh because you never expected this from him and are annoyed that something personal now the whole world will know by the end of the day. 
You can't wait until he arrives home.
"Harry Edward Styles!" You yell as you hear Harry open the front door. 
He looks sheepish. "Yes, my darling angel."
"You told me you were having breakfast with Greg James, not that you were going to be on the Breakfast show."
"I took muffins, and they provided coffee, therefore, breakfast." Harry defends
"You exposed me to all of the UK to not knowing 'Frosty the Snowman.'"
"No one knows you're my girlfriend." Harry tries to brush it off.
"We've been dating four years; I'm not that much of a secret. Anne posts me on her story from time to time, and your friends follow my Instagram, fuck; you've introduced me to Greg." You're not angry, more annoyed than anything because he won't let this go.
"It's just to give everyone a good laugh; no one is going to hold it against you." 
"No, just my boyfriend and everyone who listens to the Breakfast Show." You cross your arms before storming up the stairs away from Harry. 
"Love? You're not actually mad, right?" Harry asks, pushing the bedroom door open. 
"You even got Iz on it!" Your turn around with a pout on your face. 
Harry laughs. "I honestly thought she wouldn't go through with it."
"Well, I see where her loyalty lies." 
Harry steps close and pulls you into his chest. You sigh, wrapping your arms around him. He knows how much you love his hugs.
"I promise this is the last I mention of it." 
You frown into his chest, not at all believing him. Harry pats your bum, and you take that as the queue to look up at him. He's smiling down at you, leaning in to give you a quick peck. "I promise." 
"Okay, then." You lean in and kiss him, firmer this time and much longer. Harry sneaks his tongue in, instantly getting a moan out of you. 
"I know how you can make it up to me." You gasp, pulling away, 
Harry raises an eyebrow at you. "Do tell." 
A smirk on both your faces as you guide him to the bed, very much hungry for something that wasn't breakfast. 
_____
Harry has the Christmas playlist running; it's a Sunday, meaning they spend it at home doing absolutely nothing. To be truthful, they rolled out of bed past ten and still have their pj's on. Not at all bothering to change, why waste more clothes if no one will see them like this in the comfort of their own home.
You cooked grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch and now are playing a game of scrabble.
Harry puts down the word 'light,' then reaching his hand into the black pouch to pick five letters to have seven once again. You are looking back and forth between the board and your letters, thinking of the best place to place your word. 
"I've got a question," Harry says, looking at you, wanting all your attention as well. 
"What is it?" You're focused on your letters. Rearranging them, not putting down the 'q' in your hand. It's currently useless but will eventually give you a word to win the game. Not that you both ever keep points, oh no, that stopped after you beat harry 120 to 66, and he flipped the board, causing letters to fly everyone. You still claim that there are missing letters. 
"Frosty is a cute name."
"Reminds me of that Wendy's dessert. I'm still not sure what made it so good." You say, maybe you should get up and eat some. Harry did just pick up new flavors that he had been wanting to try something about them being richer in flavor. 
"You're getting off track." 
"Sorry, Frosty is cute for what?" You don't let him answer before you're speaking again. "A dog, did you get a dog?" You pause, looking up at him, "a cat, did Anne find a stray and wants to give them to us?" You wait, but Harry is about to crush all your excitement. 
"None of that." He shakes his head at you, and disappointment fills you immediately. 
"Well, can this conversation end then? I'm disappointed." 
"Darling," Harry chastises you for not letting him go on.
"Go on then, mate." You gesture him to continue. Shifting your attention away from the game in front of you.
Harry frowns, his eyebrows pinching together in the sweet way that makes you want to rub them out until he's relaxed. "Why'd you call me, mate?"
"Oh, I've called you this before." You brush off Harry's reactions; he's always dramatic. 
"I'm not your friend." He states.
You furrow your eyebrows and tilt your head and really look at Harry. "Well, of course, you are boyfriend," You emphasize, dragging out the word. "You're my best friend." 
"You can't say boyfriend anymore. I'm your fiancé now." Harry states proudly, but you feel a little dumbfounded, not knowing why he is saying that.
Your eyes widen when you look down at your left hand, and no ring rests on your left ring finger.
"Fuck, I missed your proposal, and the ring got lost." You pout, trying your best to stop the smirk from coming out.  
"Darling, I'm sorry." Harry quickly apologizes. "I'm still your boyfriend, but I will be proposing soon." He promises. "Shit, you were supposed to not even know. I really am bad at hiding things."
"Fuck, you really are." You laugh, "but boyfriend sounds cute. Can't I still say boyfriend when you do?" 
"Doesn't fiancé sound nicer?" Harry tries. 
You shrug. "Not as fun, husband is nice."
"You're rejecting my future proposal, then." Harry is teasing, and you can tell by the sparkle in his forest eyes. 
"Of course not, you dummy. You can be my fiancé and my boyfriend." You tell him like it was the most obvious answer.
"Seems like a lot of work."
"Rude." You stick your tongue at him. 
"Right, love, well try to remember I'm your husband once we're married, no more boyfriend."
"I will, hubby. You're going to be my hubby."
You both go silent.
You burst out laughing, "That's awful, I hate it."
Harry chuckles, nodding his head. "Yeah, I do as well."
"This is why I'm the brains in the relationship." 
"Right," Harry rolls his eyes at you, not at all agreeing.
"Uh, darling, I went to uni and got two degrees while you only finished school at sixteen before going off to steal millions of hearts around the world." 
"Including yours." He teases.
"I was always more a Zayn girl." You correct him.
Harry throws his arms up, "Can never let me win, can you?" 
"Nope"
"We're off-topic." Harry realizing how far they strayed from their starting point. 
"Where did we start?"
"Frosty." 
You sit back, resting against the couch; you take him in and smile at how cuddly he looks in the purple robe that he stopped letting you use. "Well, go on."
"Seeing as-" He pauses, hearing the familiar opening notes to the song he was thinking of. 'Frosty, the Snowman' is now his favorite song. "Perfectly timed, as you don't know the lyrics to Frosty the snowman."
"Gosh, you're never going to let this go," You grumble. 
"Nope. I figured we will have a little fun with this."
"More fun than the breakfast show." 
He gives you a pointed look.
You let out a long sigh, "Let's hear it." 
"You learn all the lyrics and sing it for me, and I'll let you get us a dog or cat." Harry's grinning at his idea, knowing you'll agree without a fight. 
"Can we go to the shelter?" You look like a kid on Christmas morning who had just received their presents from Santa, and in a way, you have.
"Yes, we can. Only if you can learn the entire song." Harry tells you again, wanting to emphasize the singing.
"Done deal." 
"Great, I'm giving you a week." 
You smile wide, nodding, looking, finally focusing back down at your words and the ones Harry has placed. You put down the word 'queen,' and this wins you the non-official game. Harry looks down at his poorly hidden score sheet and curses under his breath. 
"I win." 
Safe to say you lost more letters that day.
_____
It's been a week, and Harry is patiently waiting on their bed as you get ready in your shared closet. Your shared closet is large and mainly holds all of Harry's clothing. You definitely have a nice share of clothes filled with gifts from friends as well as Harry's friends and your treasured thrifted pieces. You smile at yourself in the full-length mirror. 
Harry really can't begin to imagine what you have in store for him. 
The speaker is set out and ready, and all that is needed is for you to make your entrance.
You shake out your hands in hopes of ridding yourself of the nerves. You look yourself over one last time before taking a deep breath and pushing the door open. 
"Close your eyes." You call out. 
Harry rolls his eyes but does as he is told.
You walk over to the speaker and press play, letting the music fill the room, making your way to stand in front of Harry, who slowly opens his eyes.
He gasps; he feels himself start to get hard. His eyes can't seem to take everything in fast enough. You smirk, loving the reaction you got out of him. It gives you the extra boost of confidence you were needing. 
You stand there, hand on your hip in a sexy snowman outfit to go with the performance you are about to give.
The dress, if you can consider it with how short it is, has three black buttons in the center. The material hugs your chest nicely, giving Harry a nice view of your breasts that are close to popping out. The dress hugs your waist and begins to flow out right past your butt. You wore your favorite black heels that Harry sometimes begs you not to take off. You had on a plaid scarf and a black hat that matched it perfectly. 
You were the human version of the snowman except for a more rated r version.
Harry is sitting his mouth wide open at a loss for words. You blow him a kiss before letting the song lyrics flow out of you.
Frosty the snowman
Was a jolly happy soul
With a corncob pipe and a button nose
And two eyes made out of coal
You sway your hips side to side, singing, enjoying the ravenous stare he was giving you. You throw the hat, letting it fall at his feet, but not even that breaks the gaze he has on you, not wanting to miss a single movement of yours. 
Frosty the snowman is a fairy tale they say
He was made of snow
But the children know
How he came to life one day
You take a few steps forward, but never enough to allow him to touch you, and he's craving it; you know he is. His hands are gripping his thighs, his knuckles turning whiter by the seconds. 
He still hasn't said a word. You have him mesmerized. 
You sing the lyrics proudly, knowing you practiced all week for this moment. The moment Harry will never forget all the teasing he had been doing, always forgetting you win these battles. 
There must have been some magic in that
Old silk hat they found
For when they placed it on his head
He began to dance around
"Baby," Harry breathes out, putting a hand out to touch you, but you take a step back before he can do so. 
You smirk, shaking your head no at him. You were having a lot more fun than you expected. 
You bend over, slipping off your heels, never breaking eye contact with Harry; he could very easily see up the dress that you had nothing underneath. His green eyes turned dark, and you swore your heart stopped, and you were sure he was about to attack. You were the prey, taunting him until he had enough, but surprisingly enough, he took a deep breath, and his composure was back well, just a bit of it.  
O Frosty the snowman
Was alive as he could be
And the children say he could laugh and play
Just the same as you and me
You stopped right in front of him. Harry's eyes trained on your red lips, hanging out to every word you were singing. You reached a hand back and began to unzip the dress. The grin on your face excited for the next reaction you were about to receive. 
Once you reached the bottom of your back, the dress fell to the floor. Harry let out a loud gasp. Your breasts on display, the small owl tattoo on your hip staring at him, he could see how wet you were, and all he wanted was his head between your thighs as you screamed his name. 
You were a dream. You missed Harry's touch. It was the reason you stepped close enough for him to finally pull you in. 
He led them down the streets of town
Right to the traffic cop
And he only paused a moment when
He heard them holler "Stop!"
Harry has no expression on his face as he sits you on his lap. He lets his head fall into your next, feeling how wet you are through his thin sweats. You move to stand up, but he grips your hips tightly, thrusting his hips against yours, searching for some kind of relief or a reaction from you because you still haven't stopped singing. 
"Baby, stop singing." His hand is cradling your cheek as his lust-filled eyes stare at you. 
You shake your head, not letting him distract you. The only piece of clothing left was the scarf, and Harry lets out a growl before ripping your scarf off your neck, throwing it off to the side.
Now you truly sit there naked in his lap, and you feel all the control you have over him. The song is coming to an end, meaning you've got to remove yourself from your favorite place to sit but knowing you'll be back there soon enough. 
Frosty the snowman
Had to hurry on his way
But he waved goodbye, saying
"Don't you cry I'll be back again someday"
You sing the final lyrics in his ear before walking away to turn off the speaker, an extra sway to your hips, knowing Harry is very well still watching your every move. You stand a delighted look on your face as you wait for his praise. 
"Those were the longest two minutes of my life," Harry says; he puts a hand over his heart, feeling like it might just burst out. "I'm never going to be able to listen to this song in public or around anyone that isn't you." 
You smirk, thrilled to hear that.
"What did I do to end up with someone as beautiful and perfect as you in my life." He confesses. 
"Probably stopped a war in a past life." You throw out jokingly. 
Harry puckers his lips and makes grabby hands at you. "Kissy, please?"
And who are you to say no? He spreads his legs, letting you step in between. You slip your fingers into his hair, pulling back with enough force to have him let out a moan. You lean down and connect your lips in a hot kiss, one that has Harry gripping you tightly wherever he can get his hands on. You moan as he slips his tongue into your mouth, and you happily give up the control to him. 
You pull back and rest a hand on his chest, preventing him from pulling you back for you. You wipe your thumb over his bottom lip that now has some of your red lipstick. "Seems like I won, sweets."
"I feel like the real winner here," Harry tells you cheekily, sneaking a kiss to both your boobs. You giggle, not at all surprised by his action. 
"Well," You fiddle with the collar of his shirt. "Why don't you show me how winners celebrate?" 
"With pleasure." Harry groans standing up quickly and pushing you back against the best. He strips as fast as he can, not without a small stumble; you're sure to keep your giggle quiet, knowing very well how easily he gets embarrassed. 
He is quick to get on top and kisses you hard. His kisses are always soft, but it seems the teasing seemed to flip a switch, one that you will happily remember to look to turn on again on a later date. Tonight, you are ready for an endless night of pleasure and love. 
Harry connects their lips, ready for an endless night of pleasure and love. 
_____
Christmas cards were a lovely tradition. Harry insisted they started because he wanted to show off his beautiful girlfriend to his friends and family. He also liked them handwritten because it added a nice personal touch. Who were you to argue about it?
This year you were the one excited to send them out. 
It read: Merry Christmas from our beautiful family to yours
You and Harry sat in front of the fireplace, four stockings hanging behind you. Harry made you sit in his lap, wanting to show off your matching two-piece buffalo plaid pajamas. You both had the biggest grins on your face, eyes shining bright. Next to you, laying on top of a box that was wrapped with blue sloth wrapping paper, was a one-year-old Australian shepherd that had spent the better of six months in the shelter because the small pup was quiet who didn't do well with people, but that changed instantly the minute he met you. You decided on the name Frosty for him. Not only did Harry get you the dog of your dreams but a small kitten as well. You brought home Snow, a six-month white Birman kitten who was the rut of his siblings, and how could you just not bring him home with you with his big blue eyes staring at you begging to add to your family because he had lots of love to give. At least that's what you told Harry what the look he was giving you meant. The two siblings laid next to each other, both surprisingly staring right at the camera, making it their best Christmas photo yet. 
A photo can honestly speak a thousand words because one glance at this photo tells you how much love there is in that home and their relationship. 
Christmas was all about spreading joy and love, and well, Harry accomplished just that for you.
_____
thank you so much for reading! i honestly hoped you loved it and would love to hear what you thought so send me a message if you like. 
i love you!
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sunflovverharry · 3 years
Text
Driving Home for Christmas
a/n: hii! i wanted to make this a super cute dad!h during christmas fic so i hope you enjoy! this fic is a part of @goldenbluesuit ´s christmas song fic challenge which i’m honored to be a part of! It's the first fic challenge I’ve entered and I’ve been nervous to post something along with all these other amazing writers, but I'm excited to post this little piece centered in the dad universe. Happy reading, and remember to read the rest of the entries as well (which I’ve read some these past two weeks and they’re fab!) <3
pairing: dad!h + y/n
warnings: none! just a cute dad!h piece
word count: 3.8k
Harry was loading the trunk of their Audi, putting all their packed suitcases and bags of presents in there. The car was smack full as this year they had another addition to their family, waiting patiently for her mum to feed her before they left the city. It was snowing heavily and Anne made sure they knew they didn’t have to drive up today with the weather making the roads worse than usual. Y/n also told him a hundred times it was his decision as he was the one driving. Harry didn’t budge though, telling his mum they would definitely be there by tonight.
This year's Christmas celebrations were being spent in Cheshire with Harry’s family seeing as they were with her family in Nottingham last year. They’ve found it works best this way rather than splitting it up to go both places every year. After four years together and buying a house at the start of this year, y/n thinks this might be the last Christmas spent out of their own home. They have their two cats (Nellie and Sunny) and having their first child it might be time to start celebrating the holiday at their own house.
«Babe, did you remember to pack the board games?» Harry heard his girlfriend ask from the threshold where they had hung a mistletoe and had Harry not been busy trying to make everything fit, he definitely would’ve turned around, ran up to her and gave her a big smack on the lips. He settled for giving her a thumbs up not swirling around as he was too busy trying to figure out how he could make most of their things fit in the trunk, thinking it was just like a game of tetris. While Harry had been doing the heavy lifting and packing; y/n had put a cute Christmas onesie on the still tiny body of their daughter, definitely small for her age but she was eating like her daddy so where the weight went they had no idea.
Olive was a generally happy, cuddly baby who more often than not reached for her dad over her mum. It didn’t bother y/n that she was a daddy’s girl, knowing how much Harry loves children and now that he has his own he’s all over her. She finds the two cuddled together on the sofa, their bed or the armchair in her nursery at least a couple times a day. Her phone is now overflowing with photos of the two and she’s hoping to put together a photo album for Harry’s birthday filled with them - knowing he’d cherish it forever.
Half an hour later they were pulling out of the driveway. Harry had checked multiple times that all the lights were out, the doors were locked and the alarm system was functioning properly. Olive was smiling as she sat still in her car seat behind y/n. She had wondered if sitting in the back with her daughter would be better, but decided against it. If she got fussy they’d stop at a gas station and she’d move to the back.
The couple was tremendously excited to bring along their little bundle of happiness and get to show her off to all of Harry’s family and friends. Of course, his family have seen her when she was a newborn but living quite far away most of them only get to see them once or twice a year. It’ll change the dynamic of how they celebrate the holidays for sure, but it's a positive change. Anne will spoil her rotten, just like she does to y/n when they visit - making her tea whenever she wants some, washing their dirty laundry (which y/n didn’t care that her mother-in-law saw her underwear cause she didn’t bring anything too scandalous) and heading to the shops when they needed even the smallest thing. Really, y/n thought she was too kind for her own good. At the same time though, y/n always did play a good host when Anne visited them - spoiling her with the comfiest bed sheets, making the food for every meal, not wanting her to lift a finger as if she was the queen.
Olive was eight months - a fairly active one at that - and loves to crawl everywhere, especially to follow her mum or dad around the lower floor of their (way too big) house for only the three (five) of them. Since the pair hadn’t brought Olive with them for such a long drive, the longest being an hour, they were anxious to find out how she’d react to being confined over a longer period of time.
Half an hour in and Olive was babbling away to the teddy bear in her arms (she got it from her nephews when she was born and has been attached to it since) as Harry and y/n talked about how excited they were for their daughter to explore her daddy´s hometown and how his whole family and friends would fall in love with Olive even more. With their little girl just starting to sleep all through the night in her own room, Anne wanted to make sure she got her own room at her nana's too, so apparently she’s cleaned the office and made it into a makeshift nursery for her granddaughter.
Y/n doesn’t know who’s more excited to see all the familiar faces, the family that’s become not only important to her in the last four years, but now also to their baby. The last time they visited Cheshire, y/n was barely two months pregnant and as tough as it was to keep it hidden from Anne for another month, they managed to keep it to the two of them (with just a handful of slip-ups). They were sure Anne knew they were having a baby with the small smirks she gave y/n and harry when she didn’t want the wine - Harry keeping to non-alcoholics in solidarity with her - which was unregular for her, normally jumping on the thought of having a glass or two after a long day.
“You know mum won’t give her up after she gets her hands on her right as we walk through the front door? Might want to hop in the back and get your fix before we get there.” Harry let out a chuckle with y/n joining in knowing just how true his words were. Anne was a godsend of a grandmother, taking Olive in her arms doting over her until she’ll start crying for her daddy. Though everyone gives her all the attention she could wish for, no one could ever do what Harry can. He’s her favorite, no matter how much I wish I could be.
Another half hour later and we were making our first stop at a local gas station in Aylesbury. We were about a third of the way in, but the weather was getting harsher with the snow falling harder and the wind picking up just a little bit. While Harry filled the car up with gas and made sure Olive didn’t start fussing, y/n went inside to get a couple snacky items for the three of them and a filled up cup of coffee for her boyfriend. Coming out of the station she could see Harry in the back with his love bug, bringing her out of the car seat as her cute little wails haltered. She was due for a feed, so they found a secluded space to park so no one would stare at her while breastfeeding their daughter.
Sitting in the front passenger seat with her daughter attached to her nipple with her baby daddy sitting in the driver's seat next to her they spent the next twenty minutes singing along to the Christmas songs playing one after the other on the radio.
Y/n had always loved this time of year - the snow, the songs (which - admittedly - she listened to throughout the entire year), the decorations, the joy and cheer. With y/n and Harry moving in together a month before Christmas, only half a year after they first began dating, they had a mutual understanding for how they would go all out with lights, trees and decorations both on the inside and outside. Though their house was gated with a high fence along the perimeter of their entire land. The trees lining the driveway all the way from the gate to where the gravel road extends into two, one leading to the garage and the other to the front door, were now lit up with strings of light going through them. It was only the beginning to their decorations, but it couldn’t be seen from the gate. More lights were lit along the house, windows were accentuated by red tape creating squares with spray along it, making it seem like snow on the glass. Though there aren’t tons of colourful lights, outside at least, the inside is littered with different colours, shining and sparkling along the staircases, mantels, dressers, counters and tables.
Olive felt like there was something new to look at, touch and be amazed by in every room of their house. As the clock sets seven in the morning, like clockwork, Harry hears Olive’s wails for him to get her out of the crib so she can move around. He kisses y/n’s forehead as he lets her sleep for another half hour to an hour like every morning before pulling on a pair of boxers and some pajama pants if it’s cold to get his daughter from her nursery across the hall.
The two of them were like two giggling girlfriends when they finally saw each other for the first time that day, not being able to keep their smiles from their similar lips. Walking downstairs Olive points at the garland wrapping the staircase and every time she sees it, a small sound of surprise and excitement exit her puckered lips. Harry talks to her about how good her mama is at decorating their house and how good it looks good for Christmas (he only helped her put up decorations, following her direct orders). Y/n had a certain way she liked to decorate and with this being the first Christmas in their house she wanted everything to look perfect.
Coming into the kitchen after turning the dimmed lights on low to have some lighting in the morning dark they had a little shimmy along the floor. Olive babbled along with Harry’s singing and mumbling to her explaining how the buttons on the walls turned on the different lights. She probably didn’t understand or care about the lights, but the two continued singing and talking about nonsense along the way. In the kitchen, Harry made her a bottle she demanded having before getting started on the omelette he makes for him and y/n every morning he’s home without fail.
When they finally got back on the road the snow was coming down heavily and the only thing they could see were the lines of cars in front of them on the M40 pushing the break every few seconds before accelerating again moving only a couple meters before breaking again. Y/n didn’t have a lot of patience in traffic - or in general - and quickly became annoyed making Harry laugh at her telling her to calm down (she wasn’t even the one who had to drive through this horrible weather). This lasted for another forty-five minutes before the snow let up just a little bit and the cars seemed to roll along the road like normal.
“I didn’t think driving home for Christmas would take this long. At least, I hoped it wouldn’t.” They’d been on the road since nine thirty this morning and now, two and a half hours later, they still have at least another two hours left until they’re at Anne’s. It wasn’t unusual for y/n to call Anne’s home, having stayed there for weeks at a time during the almost five years her and Harry have known each other. Harry isn’t unknown to calling y/n’s parents’ house his home either.
“I know. Wish it didn’t have to take this long and I’m sure little Ollie is going to get antsy soon. If the weather continues like this and we don’t have to take more than one more break, I think we’ll be there within three hours, but if we run into traffic, we might have to take more stops along the way.” Harry wanted to move along quickly to get to his mum’s before Olive’s nap time around three, if she didn’t end up sleeping in the car. We knew when we decided to drive in the morning that Olive would probably stay up the whole way, too engrossed with the cars and lights along the way to ever be able to fall asleep.
“You know what we should do to keep her happy for another half hour at least?” Y/n turned to look at Harry with a smile grazing her lips. “Play some Christmas music! She loves when we sing and dance around the house.” Playing the memories of hearing Olive’s belly laughter through the house while Harry and her danced in circles around her like another pair of idiots.
Putting on the same Christmas song list they’ve played since making it together all those years ago, the first song coming on shuffle being Santa Claus is Coming to Town. The noise was at a comfortable volume so they could still hear Olive if she started fussing though it’s unlikely and for it to not be too disturbing for Harry’s driving. With Olive seated with her back to them she couldn’t see her mummy dancing in her seat while they sang along to song after song, but she heard her parents’ voices singing out to the songs she’s heard oh so many times before.
“This is accurate, huh?” Harry snickered as Driving Home for Christmas began playing through the speakers.
“You don’t say.” It was one of their favorite songs and it fit the scene they were in, driving home for Christmas, excited to see their family, singing along the slowly getting better traffic. Looking around at the cars next to them, most of them looked to be families also driving home to be with their families for this year's holiday celebrations.
The rest of the drive was filled with more singing, two more stops for Harry to give his baby some cuddles and walking around one of the local Tesco’s they stopped at to get some more drinks and snacks. Olive was waving at everyone walking past us and talking all kinds of gibberish. While y/n grabbed the snacks, Harry had Olive walking along the aisles in between his feet while holding her little hands in his following her around the store.
A quarter to three they finally made it to Anne’s home, reversing into the driveway so they could get their baggage inside easier later in the day. Y/n saw Anne open the front door in the rearview mirror when Harry was pulling in the last meters. There was a bright smile on her face when we got out of the car. The snow had laid thick on the ground up north and the slick ice underneath made it harder to walk without having to make sure every step was carefully thought out.
Just minutes later Olive was already crawling with her little legs all over her grandma’s home, interested in anything and everything she could get her chubby hands on not seeming to be tired at all. They decided to forgo her nap and hope for an early night, which isn’t likely with everything going on around her. Anne was on granny duties right away telling the pair to sit down and relax with the tea she had prepared while she took care of the baby. There was no doubt she loved the attention from the person she might not remember from this summer but quickly became attached to, almost as much as she is to her daddy.
Harry found his place on the sofa, head in y/n’s lap and feet hanging over the armrest demanding her fingers curling through his locks. It wasn’t surprising to her that he was tired from driving the entirety of the way in traffic and tightly packed snow at times. Sure, if needed he could have stayed awake, but with his mum taking care of his little love he didn’t care much, falling asleep to his other love combing her fingers through his hair. It didn’t happen too often that they could have a cuddle in the middle of the day - just the two of them - with Olive needing their attention at all hours of the day so when the opportunity arose he wasn’t going to turn it down. He admits, though this is nice as well, that a naked cuddle in bed would definitely top laying on the sofa with his mum and daughter running around them. Maybe tonight, he thinks, as he finally falls asleep to the sound of Olive’s giggles.
As nighttime inched closer and Olive’s bedtime was passing them in the chatter and laughter, y/n told Harry to get their things from the car while she nurses Olive before getting her ready for bed. While they took care of their daughter, Anne made a nice spread of cheese and crackers for them to indulge tonight while catching up on everything that’s been going on in their lives since the last time she visited them in London.
Harry found Olive’s bag first, choosing a pair of christmassy pajamas from the mountain of clothes they had brought for her. Y/n walked upstairs to the nursery Anne had set up, seeing Harry already unpacking her bags into the cute vintage turquoise chiffonier Anne had bought from a neighbour only a couple weeks ago immediately falling in love with it.
«Would you like to have a cuddle with daddy before bed, Ollie?» Y/n firmly believed her daughter needed the nightly cuddle from Harry, just like she does, to fall asleep. She was already reaching out for him with her nimble hands waiting for him to take her in for a snuggle in his arms. There was no armchair in the makeshift nursery like they had purchased for Olive’s nursery back home where they always sat but Harry made it work. Anything for a cuddle with his baby growing way too quick for his liking.
It was no secret Harry loved babies and that only heightened when he had his own baby. With how good Olive is and how lush it’s been having a baby around and it not be just the two of them, he had thought about what it would be like with another baby around. Another little love for them to have, give Olive a sister or brother to play with. He hadn’t said anything to y/n about the thoughts he’d been having, not knowing if she'd agree with him. It’s been eight months and when they had talked about it before they agreed on a maximum of two years between their children.
Only a couple hours later they headed to bed themselves, ready for a good night's sleep before another long day tomorrow. Harry had been debating with himself whether he was going to mention babies to y/n or not - ultimately ended up with yes, he would mention it. Now they were finally alone with y/n resting her head on Harry’s pillow, her fingers delicately drawing patterns on his chest.
“I have something I’d like to discuss with you.” Harry’s voice wasn’t much louder than a whisper, not wanting to ruin the calmness around them. He wasn’t nervous so to say, but he felt his pulse quicken the tiniest bit at the thought of getting turned down. Y/n turned her head to watch Harry as he pulled her in as close as he could without suffocating her.
“It’s been lovely having Olive, right? Seems like it was meant to be to have a baby and during the holidays it’s been so fun watching her so interested in everything.” Y/n murmured her answer. She had loved having a little one to care for and to fill their days with joy over the last eight months.
“Well, with how well it’s been going with her, I was thinking we could talk about having another little one? Maybe discuss it a bit. What do you say, let's make Ollie a big sister?”
“I think we might be well on the way to making her a sister, bub.” Harry turned his head at lightning speed hearing her words, not knowing if he heard her quite right. His open mouth and big round eyes weren’t something she saw often combined as she wasn’t always the best at surprising him, but this time she was sure her secret had come as a big shock. It wasn’t as if they had been trying for a baby either, only forgetting a condom a handful times when they were too in the moment to care for it.
She found out only a week ago, thinking she could keep it to herself until Christmas day. It wasn’t difficult to hide it from him, not struggling with morning sickness and only craving sweets as if she was on her period. Knowing they had agreed on the number of children they wanted - four - she wasn’t scared of him reacting badly.
“You’re not joking, right?” Harry smashed his lips onto his girlfriends when she shook her head - no, i’m not joking - kissing her slow and long, showing her just how happy he was. They spent the night talking about how thrilled and excited they were to expand their family with more children and how great of a sister Olive would be. Baby names were flying between them, agreeing to never naming one of their babies after a city, but rather continuing naming them something more unique than Chloe or Adam.
The rest of the holiday spent up north with Harry’s family was relaxing and lovely all around. Playing board games, exploring the city with Olive (who was way too fascinated by all the snow), family dinner parties and having fun with friends they didn’t get to see all too often. Olive was wiped out after opening her presents on Christmas morning and spending all her energy on all the toys she got and the paper ripping she played with (more than the toys to be honest).
This year had been special for the family and Christmas was just the same. Olive was lively and it made y/n and Harry exhausted with everything going on, but they wouldn’t change it for the world. After all, Olive was their little girl and soon there would be another little love in their family. Trying to keep the pregnancy from their family and friends was easier this time around as she could blame not drinking alcohol on her breastfeeding and decided they would keep it hidden from everyone until the last possible minute.
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harryhandstan · 3 years
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I am so excited to finally be posting this for y’all! Thank you so much for all the hype and support it is very much appreciated. :) this is my piece for @goldenbluesuit​‘s Christmas Fic Challenge! my prompt was the song “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?” from the movie Frozen and I hope you all enjoy how I’ve incorporated it into my Dad!Harry series. You don’t necessarily have to read the other parts to understand this one, but I’ll link them below in case you want to re-visit them. 
I Want Your Belly ❄ Wonderful and Warm ❄ Washed Away in You 
Thank you to @tbslenthusiast​ and @heartbreakweatherharry​ for reading over this for me and giving me such amazing feedback! 
Word count: 2.3k
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You still couldn’t believe the little wonder that had been created by you and Harry existed to be yours. Things hadn’t been perfect, far from it, but it was definitely a new and fun adventure you were both eager and terrified of.
The first challenge presented was finding a name perfect enough to fit your son. He was alive for 24 hours before you discovered one you and Harry were absolutely sure of. Even seeing it written on his birth certificate made your heart swell with pride.
It’s your mother who asks first, “Well, are you two gonna make a formal announcement to the press before us grandparents get to know the name of our grandson?”
“Think we’ve made them wait long enough, Harry.”
He smiles at you from across the hospital room where he sits in a chair, the baby resting peacefully on his chest. You’re propped up in the bed, wrapped in the soft pink robe given to you by him just a few days ago. Anne sits nearby, a proud grin on her face at the sight of her baby with his.
His eyes dart from the baby to you, “You wanna tell them or shall I?”
“You tell them. You’re the one that found it, been bragging about it all day too.”
“Alright then,” He gently lifts the baby, turning him to where the whole room can see him, your son’s face now scrunched up by the light from the window shining on him, “Ladies, meet your grandson, Sterling Edward Styles.”
“Oh, you didn’t,” Anne giggles, reaching over to pat your leg, “You’ll never hear the end of it, love, letting him name the baby after himself.”
“Hey! S’her idea to give him my middle name. I picked the first,” His features switch from temporarily offended back to beaming, “Wanna tell ‘em what it means, darlin’?”
“Sterling means ‘starling’, or as Harry likes to call him..”
“Our little star.” 
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5 weeks later, your son certainly lives up to his name, charming everyone he meets. Sweet smiles and coos at strangers from his carrier when you’re at the grocery store or falling asleep in Auntie Gemma’s arms when she comes to visit. You were not surprised he already had his father’s charismatic ability to make everyone fall for him so quickly.
With Harry’s schedule as busy as it had been, it hadn’t been easy to adjust to life together as new parents. As much as he had tried to push things back or reschedule to have more time off with you, there was only so much that he was in control of and he was away from you and Sterling more than he liked.
So it’s no surprise when he comes home one evening and the space you share is mostly already decorated for the winter holidays. He smiles warmly to himself when he hears you singing along to the movie playing from the tv, peeks around the corner to see Sterling tucked away in his swing, his eyes open and bright. Your back is turned so you don’t hear Harry approaching, continuing to sing aloud as you work.
“We only have each other, it’s just you and me, what are we gonna dooooooo?” You spin around, expecting to only see Sterling watching you, yelping when you find Harry, giggling at the shock on your face.
He bends to look out the window, “Could be wrong, but I think you have to have snow to build a snowman, yeah?”
“You’re early! I wanted to surprise you,” You weave your way around boxes to greet him, “Left the tree for the 3 of us to do together though.”
“S’nice of you.” His hands remain in his pockets as you move closer, tired eyes looking down at you, lazy smile as you work your arms around his waist. He doesn’t make you wait long, freeing his hands from his pockets to wrap around you. 
He buries his face in your neck, “Missed you today.”
“We missed you too, H.”
He pulls back, turning to look down at Sterling, his arm still holding you close to his side, “He’s growing too fast. Can’t believe he’s already 5 weeks.”
“5 weeks and 3 days,” You remind him, “All the mommy blogs say we have an infant now.”
“S’that s’pose to mean? ‘Course he’s an infant.”
“Just means he’s growing out of his tiny baby stage.”
He directs his attention back to the movie playing, laughing as he teases you, “Least y’could’ve done is found a proper Christmas movie t’play while you put up decorations.”
You shrug, “It’s close enough to count. Plus he LOVES it. Think Elsa might be his favorite.”
He can’t resist anymore. As comfortable as his son may be swaying back and forth in his swing, he bends to scoop him up, one hand cradling behind his head and the other behind his back to easily support him. Sterling clearly doesn’t mind, a grin developing when he realizes who it is disturbing him.
“Don’t care what anyone says, bub. Y’ll always be daddy’s baby.”
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You never doubted Harry’s capacity to love his son, but you definitely questioned his expertise and knowledge of the basics of caring for a child. He had become somewhat experienced now, tackling late night diaper changes and early morning feedings or anything else in between without complaint when he could. 
Though he had done great, you were never too far away that you couldn’t offer assistance when he needed it. So when he gets a rare day off and suggests you let him stay home with the baby while you run errands, you’re hesitant.  
“Do ya not trust me?”
“Of course I do. You know I do. I just don’t want you to get overwhelmed.”
“S’just for a few hours, right? You can write out a list of his schedule if it makes y’feel better.”
Sterling’s stretched across your lap, dozing off while you try to finish the last of your breakfast. Harry stands at the counter, drinking coffee out of a bright pink mug. You look between your almost sleeping son and then back up to Harry, chewing a bite of toast as you contemplate the idea.
He doesn’t take offense to your hesitation, quite the opposite actually. He adores the sight of you, Sterling’s face squished against your chest; one of his hands tucked under his chin, the other wrapped around your side, his little fist holding tight to your t-shirt. It’s the purest form of love in his eyes, to see the bond between mother and son grow and deepen with each day. Makes him reminiscent of his connection with his own mother, fills his heart with so much joy knowing he had chosen someone that would give his son the same sweet upbringing he had.
He makes his way back around the counter to you, a hand resting on the top of Sterling’s head as he bends down to kiss the top of yours. He moves his hand, repeating the act of affection to the top of the baby’s head. 
“Really proud of you, y’know that right, baby? Been so amazing watching you take care of yourself and our little boy, never doubted for a second you were meant for this, but it’s been more incredible than I could’ve ever imagined.”
“Proud of you too, H. Know you’ve had a lot of guilt about being gone, but Sterling and I love you so much. He already lights up at the sound of your voice when you FaceTime us from set, and I see the way he grins at you before he falls asleep when you’re here to tuck him in at night.” 
His eyes meet yours, sees the moment you make your decision to say yes, deep exhale of warm breath trapped between the two of you, “You have to promise to call if anything happens, if you need anything at all. Don’t care how small it is.” He nods firmly, further setting your mind at ease, “He should sleep most of the time I’m gone, but I’ll prepare another bottle just in case I can’t get back in time.”
You feel silly for feeling so protective, and you were thankful to have Harry as your partner on this journey. His patience and support had been more than generous, covering you and Sterling in more love and adoration than you’d ever known could exist from one person. He kisses you again, on your lips this time, a hand cupping one side of your face before gently lifting Sterling from your arms, shushing and bouncing him a bit when he starts to whimper from the sudden change in his comfortable position.
“S’okay, bubs. Daddy’s got you, g’nna have us a lil’ boys day while mumma’s gone.” 
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You rush through whatever tasks you had scheduled that seemed so important that morning. Suddenly the groceries you needed and last minute presents you were dropping off at the post office to mail to out of town family didn’t matter, nothing did but getting back home to your boys.
It’s quiet when you shut the door behind you, almost too quiet. As much as you always prayed he would, Sterling never slept through his morning nap, so you’re surprised at the possibility of him still sleeping peacefully. Not that he was old enough to make too much noise yet, but still the silence worries you enough that you don’t even take the time to put away the groceries. You set the bags on the kitchen counter, making your way through the house to the living room first.
All your concern fades at the sight of Harry on the couch, Sterling snuggled in his arms with his back pressed against Harry’s front, his little body covered in a red and white striped onesie with a reindeer on the front, matching pair of green socks on his tiny feet. It’s such a comforting image, you once again question why you had any doubt at the thought of leaving the two of them alone. Harry hasn’t noticed your presence yet, or if he has he hasn’t said anything, and you’re content to keep it that way for a few more minutes to observe the vision set before you.
You notice the movie that’s playing, it’s the same one from a few nights ago that Harry teased you for. You cross your arms, quirking one eyebrow upwards before you repeat Harry’s words from that night out loud, “Boys day, huh? Could’ve at least found a proper Christmas movie to watch while I was gone.”
“I’ve decided you’re right, it does count. I can see why he loves it so much.” He looks up at you from where you lean over back of the couch now, a soft “hi” falling from his lips, tilting his head up to accept the kiss you offer. Sterling coos, and when you look down, he’s looking up at you too. 
“Mommy missed you too, baby boy.”
“Come sit with us, lovie, watch the rest of the movie.”
“Gimme a minute to put the groceries away and I will.”
“I’ll pause it and come help.”
“No, stay,” You run your hand through his hair, pushing the curls away from his face, “There’s not that much, I got it.”
You work swiftly to put everything away, taking a minute to change back into your pajamas before you rejoin them, curling yourself against Harry’s side under his free arm. Sterling’s dozing again, most likely falling into a milk coma from the bottle he had just finished, but it doesn’t stop the two of you from continuing to watch the same movie together. You offer to take Sterling or put him in his swing, but he just shakes his head no, clinging tighter to him and you.
“S’my favorite part, this song.”
“What? It’s the saddest one. Elsa and Anna’s parents die in this one.” 
He shrugs, careful not to shuffle Sterling and disturb his sleep, “Maybe, but s’catchy, gets stuck in my head more than the others.” 
He begins humming along to the intro music, nudging you softly to persuade you to start singing along with the character on the screen. You sit up, dramatically clearing your throat before you do. Harry knows more of the words than he cares to admit, but would rather hear the lyrics sung by you. He giggles at you as you even change your voice to mimic the silly parts.
“It gets a little lonely. All these empty rooms. Just watching the hours tick by…”
Harry provides the tick-tock part, clicking his tongue off-tune to the ones playing in the song. That’s enough to make you laugh out loud, temporarily forgetting the sleeping baby now resting on Harry’s chest. He shushes you playfully, his body shaking through his own laughter thankfully soothing Sterling enough that he doesn’t wake up.
You compose yourself as the song turns slow and mournful, tucking yourself back to Harry’s side again. His hand works around to cup your waist, squeezing lightly to pull you closer, the vibrations of him humming along again a comforting rumble against your body. His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper as he sings the last notes of the song.
“We only have each other. It's just you and me. What are we gonna doooooo?”
Your eyes scan the whole of the room. Your boys nestled together next to you, the tree in the corner of the room the 3 of you had decorated together a few days before, the pile of presents that had already accumulated underneath it. You spot your favorite ornament, a silver star with Sterling’s full name engraved on the front, “Baby’s First Christmas” etched on the back. Sterling’s first present from your family sent from home. Well, what used to be your home for the holidays. A smile spreads across your face at the simple happiness and realization that this is your home now. 
Harry, Sterling, and you; sun, moon, and star, spending your first holiday together.
 //
Thank you all for reading! As always likes/rbs/and comments are more than welcome. Tell me what you think here!
tag list: @taintedwonder​, @cock-a-doodely-doo
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wild3flow3r · 3 years
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Santa Baby // HS
Hey everyone! It’s been a long time since I posted some writing, but this season I was a part of @goldenbluesuit​ Christmas Song Fic Challenge! It was so much fun and I want to give her a huge thanks for allowing me to participate! Make sure to read all of the other fics in this challenge that have been posted + will be posted in the upcoming days. Without further ado, here’s my piece!
word count: 1.4k
cw: none! just tried to make something sweet :)
In my twenty-five years of life, I never, not once, imagined myself falling into bed with a mall Santa. Let alone one I detested with every fiber of my being. But alas, it was Christmas Eve and even stranger things have happened during the holidays. But honestly, this probably isn’t the strangest thing to have ever happened. This cannot be the first time a mall Santa and his most trusted elf have found themselves in this most uncompromising of positions in the Elf’s flat just a quick cab ride away from Santa’s village.
His lips brush over my jawline before moving down to my neck, his teeth catching on some skin. I feel his hands trying to undo all the knots on the front of my shift. At one point he just starts pulling at them in aggravation, a low groan falling past his lips and onto my skin. I can’t help but laugh, which only earns me a hard squeeze on both sides of my hips.
“You’re being rude,” he mutters. Again I laugh.
“I quite vividly remember somebody stealing my lunch out of the fridge today. Now that was rude.”
He lifts his head up so his green eyes can gaze into mine. The shade of them is darker. If it’s from the lack of light, or from annoyance at me and my dress, or just because of what I feel poking against my thigh under his red trousers, I’m not sure.
“Mabel,” he groans. I am very much dancing on his last nerve now.
“Harry,” I sing-song back. “You should be better at those knots by now, honestly. We’ve been going at this for weeks. You’ve had practice.”
“You mess them up like this on purpose. I know it.”
I met Harry Styles one day in the middle of November when Santa’s village opened for business at our city mall. Originally, he was supposed to be an elf just like me. But then the Santa the mall had hired had fallen ill, and Harry was asked to step up in replacement. He very much did not look like Santa, even with the beard and glasses he was forced to wear, but the children, and their parents, loved him so much, for reasons I could never comprehend, even with being with him as I am now. And because he was such a hit, the mall asked him to step in as Santa permanently.
Even from the first moment I met him, I knew no good would come of him. First off, green eyes were my weakness. But then he opened up that big dumb mouth of his and made fun of my (handmade but mall approved) elf costume. Well, now that costume was making fun of him.
“This feels like something that could end you up on the naughty list.”
With a big roll of my eyes, I kick the elf boots off my feet, hearing the bells on them jingle when they hit the ground.
Another check off on why I found him so detestable. He took his job way too seriously. And not as in he actually thought of himself as Santa, but more the power dynamic between Santa and his elf. Often times I was the punchline to a joke he was making to a child and their parent. All harmless, of course, but they wound their ways under my skin until I was ready to burst with annoyance. And the constant references on finding myself on the naughty list, if I hadn’t found myself in bed with him nearly every night since the day we met, I would show him what would actually get me on the naughty list. Also, he likes to steal my lunches, a big fault in his personality.
I hadn’t meant to start sleeping with him. We were five days into our working relationship when it happened. He often liked to turn everything into a game. The staring contest was our most popular, but there was also the quiet game, and sometimes even a race on who could get to the cab first. He loves a competition. I, on the other hand, find them rather aggravating, but that’s probably because I usually lose. But I don’t know. One second we were in the breakroom by ourselves having a tough match at the staring contest, and the next his lips were on mine. It was like all this tension I’d been feeling for him was slowly being released. And that night, with one of his arms wrapped around my shoulder as we both laid on our backs, his breath slow and steady with sleep, it was the calmest I’ve felt in a long time. I wanted to do it again, and I guess so did he. So unless one of us really has plans that they cannot cancel, we find ourselves most nights after work at one of our homes. Usually mine, since Harry has a nosey roommate.
“Oh poor me, I’m so worried.”
“Just help me get it off.” His pout is almost adorable. Focus, Mabel.
“Stop eating my lunches. I don’t make them for you.”
“So you did tangle them on purpose!”
I shrug, a smirk playing across my lips. “Someone needs to teach you a lesson. Only good boys get what they ask for.”
He nuzzles his head back against my shoulder, his teeth nipping at my earlobe. “I promise to stop,” he whispers. The smile on his lips gives away his lie.
I hum in response. I push at his shoulders until finally he releases me and falls against the mattress on his back. His fingers brush against the back of my hand before I stand up and head over to the mirror. A knot like this would confuse Harry, but I know the ins and outs of it. It only takes me a few moments to get it free, but Harry still found himself bored waiting. I hear him fiddling around with the radio on my nightstand, landing on a station playing a Christmas Hits countdown. The first few cords of Santa Baby play through the speakers. Kylie Minogue starts to sing just as I turn to face him again.
His eyes grow wide as a shed the dress off my body, now only wearing pale green leggings. No matter how many times he’s seen me naked, he always makes it feel like the first. New. Exciting. Sexy.
He’s been sans his shirt and red coat for a while now, but his red trousers stand at my attention. One moment he’s on the bed, staring, and the next he’s on my like a lion on their prey. He throws me back on the bed before covering my body once more. Now his head travels down from my neck to my chest to my navel, humming along to the song the entire time.
“Been an awful good girl,” he mutters along with Kylie while peppering kisses against my hips as he peels the leggings off.
My fingers brush through his curls. I tug at them lightly before he moves any further down. He looks up at my with a question on his face.
“What’s going to happen after Christmas?” I whisper.
It’s been on my mind this last week. After tomorrow we would no longer be working together. We would no longer be seeing each other. I loate this man in front of me. But also, my heart has grown quite fond of him. And he’s really good with what he does in bed. Like really good. And sometimes he’s funny. Alright, a lot of the time he’s funny. And he really is kind, when he’s not trying to get a rise out of me. But we’d never put a label on this when we first started sleeping together. I don’t know what we are now. I don’t know what we will be. But I’d like to know now, to protect my heart if he decides to leave my life for good in two days.
He comes up again, pressing soft kisses against my lips until I’m smiling. “You don’t think you can get rid of my that easily, do you?”
“We never talked about-”
“I know. “But I’m not going to disappear after tomorrow. You’re too much fun to annoy to do that.”
“Oh shut it,” I mutter.
“With pleasure,” he grins before moving back south.
I don’t know what December 26th will bring, to see whether or not Harry and I have been living in a Christmas induced bubble. I don’t know if we’ll make it to the New Year. Maybe we could make it to Easter. But all I know for certain is right now, with Harry between my legs going as slow and tortuous as he can, and Kylie Minogue asking Santa to hurry down the chimney tonight. Kylie knew what she was talking about.
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metinthehallway · 3 years
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It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year
Hello! Here is a simple little 3.5k fic! I thank @goldenbluesuit for hosting this spectacular fic challenge! I love what I've read so far and I can’t wait to keep reading. Also, thank you to @lilacobscure and @arrogantstyles for beta-ing and just being...awesome. I hope you all like it. :) 
Warnings: mention of the word bloke from a non-Brit
Annie has had it. She’s holding two of her fluffiest pillows against both of her ears and has her white noise machine droning on at full volume. And she can still hear the sultry bass of Andy Williams singing his little heart out. She can hear him as clear as day, as if he were performing his very own live concert in the corner of her bedroom. Don’t even get her started on the Christmas lights. Annie had actually gone out and bought an eye mask in order to sleep, as her windows faced the neighbors front yard where Annie’s neighbor, apparently, was the sole reason their local supermarket was sold out of blow up decorations and string lights. 
Harry Styles didn’t even have a lot of real estate to work with in terms of space. But he really made every centimeter count. One morning mid-November, whilst getting her mail, Annie counted about fourteen deflated pop-up corpses staked to the frozen ground, multiple candy canes lining his driveway that were about half the size of her, and masses of tangled lights strung up across every visible square inch of his home. If that wasn’t enough, he had a carefully crafted playlist he turned on every night at eight p.m. sharp that was approximately three hours and forty-nine minutes long before it looped back to the beginning song. She thought, fleetingly, that she should invest in ear plugs.
Annie prides herself on being a patient and understanding person. The only reason why she hasn’t held a covert operation at three in the morning to mercilessly stab a hole in each blow-up, or cut every single criss-crossed wire, or even ambush her neighbor while he walks out his front door in nothing but a fuzzy pink robe and no shoes, demonstrating that universal, oh shit the ground is cold, oh shit, oh shit, jerking walk, is because he only recently moved in next door. She was not about to be the one to ask him to maybe take it easy on the city’s power source, that she also needs electricity for her home, and also how do you fall asleep with this godforsaken music?
Annie is not prideful in this moment. All it takes for her to snap is hearing, “It’s the hap-happiest season of all,” for the forty-fifth time. With a loud groan, she tears off her beautiful, beautiful down comforter and stomps into her shoes, scaring Cindy, her sleeping Persian cat, off the bed. It’s two thirty-six in the morning, she realizes in a far off thought that doesn’t seem to make it to the forefront of her brain, and makes her way over to Harry’s front door. She has the immature urge to punch a smiling Santa sat atop a sleigh filled with presents as she passes it. All the lights are off in his house and Annie doesn’t feel a bit of remorse as she raises a half-asleep arm and slams it against the sturdy oak door of Harry’s house. For a full minute, it’s silent and there appears to be no movement from behind the door. A sliver of apprehension begins to worm its way into Annie’s bones. 
There’s a better way to do this, Annie. Like, in daylight, during normal people hours. 
She starts to turn on her heel, continuing her internal chastising and also external chastising, muttering to herself like a lunatic, when she hears the tell-tale creak behind her and a porch light flickering to life. Annie stands there, her right hand over her eyes, shielding them from the harsh yellow rays. She can make out Harry’s figure, dressed in flannel pajama pants that look like they were previously crumpled on his bedroom floor, a white T-shirt on backwards and inside out, and his signature pink fuzzy robe. His hair sticks up hazardously, sort of like a halo illuminated by the bulb behind him. His eyes are puffy, brows furrowed together and indenting a line in the center of his forehead. Lips as pink as a rose purse together as nostrils flare.
“Is there something I might be able to help you with?” Harry asks, a slight lilt to his gravelly voice. It’s a polite enough question, however it holds an air of carefully restrained annoyance. For a moment, Annie thinks she would be annoyed as well if someone pounded at her front door in the wee hours of a Tuesday morning. She quickly dismisses the thought, actually raising her hand in the air and waving it off as if it was a tangible thing. Harry raises one eyebrow. 
“Good evening, well- morning, my name is Annie. I live next door, I’m twenty-two Ambrose Ave,” Annie starts. She doesn’t know why she announces her house number. She watches his eyes flick to his right where an engraved twenty-four lies, and back to hers. Annie shakes her head slightly before launching into a speech she never prepared.
“I’m here because I think the way you decorate is rude. Do you think, at all, of your neighbors? How do you fall asleep? Do you even have a job?! I never see you leave your house! Not that I’m keeping tabs, I’m just genuinely worried for your electric bill,” she continues, pausing to take a breath. “I have not had a single good nights rest since you started all of this, back in November. I have never hated the sound of Andy Williams’ voice more deeply than I do this holiday season.”
“Excuse me—,”
“Ah-ah! I’m not done, sir. Some of us are employed and have to work at eight a.m., some of us have cats that wake us up in the ass-crack of dawn anyway with their screeches and need all the sleep we can get. Do you know I had to buy a sleep mask because of you? Because of,” she pauses, a red rotating light from a candy cane passing over her face ominously as she turns around and gestures wildly to the commotion around her, “all this?”
“Can I just say—,”
“And the music. Are you eighty years old? The least you could do with this god-awful playlist is add some Mariah Carey, some Buble; even Ariana Grande has some sick Christmas tunes. The ones you chose haven’t been remastered since nineteen thirty-eight,” she finishes, eyes a little too wide, hair disheveled and falling in her face. Her hands are shaking and her heart is beating entirely too fast. Confrontation has never been Annie’s strong suit, evident of the lack of response from Harry as she cuts him off throughout the duration of her mini rant. He just peers back at her, face as still as stone as an uncomfortable silence falls between them. Frosty the Snowman rears its nasty head and Annie finds herself slowly closing her eyes and clenching her fists.
The second Annie starts to open her eyes, she hears the light closing of Harry’s front door and two locks click into place. She stands there, mouth slightly open as the early December chill works its way into her bones. She stares ahead of her and a murderous look takes over her face, cheeks red with the winter wind, lips chapped and tears starting to form on her lash line from the cold.
“What a fucking prick,” Annie mutters to herself. He can’t even respond to her? How childish. She turns around slowly, walking back through the winter wonderland, feeling defeated. She didn’t know what she expected to feel after finally expressing her thoughts, but she knew defeated was not it. 
As she crosses the threshold into her home, she thinks, maybe I could’ve handled that better. Annie prides herself on her patience. She was not patient that night.
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Over the course of the month, Annie and Harry bump into each other way more than either of them would like. Once, when the mailman dropped off her mother’s monthly care package to Harry’s house, another when Annie had to begrudgingly ask to borrow his shovel when she found her car snowed in one early morning and a broken handle on her own. 
They’ve even begun to see each other in the aisles of their local supermarket. Annie enters the store, unsuspecting and looking for ingredients to make her world renowned charcuterie boards for a work fundraiser. She stops in her tracks and almost drops her jar of green olives when she sees a familiar head of frizzy brown hair. 
Harry is hyper-focused, reading the back of a spray cheese can. Annie tries to sneak by him and grab a box of herb filled crackers. Tries. She is unsuccessful, however, when her purse strap catches on a display and yanks her arm backwards, making her lose grip of the glass jar. Everything seems to happen in slow motion, as she watches the jar sail past Harry and hit the ground, glass exploding all over his shoes. The chattering happening around her ceases, as all of the blood in her body travels to her face. 
“Clean up in aisle four,” deadpans a nearby worker dressed in a horrid shade of neon green. He sighs heavily, murmuring under his breath that he doesn’t get paid nearly enough to be picking up all of these olives. 
Annie is mortified. She is unable to tear her focus away from Harry’s soaked suede shoes.  It’s only when he clears his throat and shifts his feet that she raises her head.
“I see… that you’ve really got a vendetta against me,” Harry scoffs, eyes trained on his feet, where the olive juice has to be seeping into his socks. No one likes wet socks. 
“That was completely on accident! I swear! Why is that display sticking three feet into the aisle anyway? That has to be a a safety violation,” Annie pushes out in a rush. There doesn’t seem to be enough air for her lungs in this store. Especially not with Harry now looking intensely at her, almost like he could see right through her. She folds under his gaze.
“It’s okay. I didn’t like these shoes much, to be fair,” Harry shrugs. 
“Really?”
“No,” Harry says. 
“Oh. Well, I can buy you a new pair. How much did you pay for those?” Annie asks, pulling out her wallet.
Harry raises a single eyebrow, the left corner of his mouth turning up and a dimple appearing out of thin air. 
“Too much. Really, it’s fine. The juice is translucent enough. I’ll just use them as house slippers,” he says. He opens his mouth to continue, but is interrupted by the loud squeaking of a bucket skidding across the floor. The neon green worker returns, a dingy looking mop in hand and a frown on his face. His free hand makes the shoo motion to Harry, starting to swipe at the floor, completely ignoring the glass scratching the linoleum that’s mixed in with the olives.
“Do you want any help?” Annie offers, stepping forward to at least pick up the larger shards scattered across the floor. The worker, whose name tag reads Roger, holds up a single pointer finger in her direction and shakes his head. Annie takes the hint, while Harry just shifts his gaze between Roger and the mess on the tiles, mouth somewhat agape. She nudges his shoulder with her own and gestures with her head for them to leave the aisle. 
Annie makes her way up to self-checkout, Harry following suit. They ring their items up in silence next to each other. They find themselves walking through the front door together, and it’s only when they’re outside in the sunshine that Harry lets out the deepest belly laugh Annie has ever heard. 
“Oh my god, my toes are so wet,” Harry says in between breaths. “Did you see the way that bloke’s vein was popping out of his neck? I thought he was about to commit second degree murder right in the condiment aisle.”
Annie’s heartbeat starts to pick up and she begins to laugh along with him. Tears form in both of their eyes and they sparkle in the cold afternoon sunlight. 
“I feel so bad! I don’t even like olives. They were just for my stupid charcuterie boards,” Annie says, laughter dying down. She sighs, wiping at her cheeks. She looks up, meeting Harry’s eyes. He looks down at her, smile fading slowly but his face still holding traces of warmth. 
“Well, I should be heading home. See you soon,” Harry bids his goodbye. Annie nods her head in his direction and turns, palming her keys and unlocking her car across the parking lot with a chirp. She unloads her groceries into the trunk and slides into the drivers seat, thinking for a brief moment about the shape of Harry’s smile. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The snow outside is falling. And it’s falling hard. So heavy and consistent that the power lines are drooping underneath the weight and the electricity in Annie’s house is flickering in and out. It’s Christmas Eve and all she wants to do is sleep the night away, then sleep the morning away, then sleep the weekend away. She draws back a curtain and peers at Harry’s lawn, the usual eyesore dark and covered in a blanket of sparkling white snow.
A sharp crack and the sound of something large tumbling to the ground close to Annie’s house makes both her and Cindy jump, eyes alert and tail all puffed out. She goes to open her front door to investigate and sees Cindy dart between her legs a second too late, a gray blur running into the stormy night.
“CINDY!” Annie yells, voice carrying eerily across the empty street. She takes off after the small cat, wearing only her pajamas and a pair of worn slippers. Annie loses her immediately in the snowfall. While outside, she sees the huge tree limb that fell onto Harry’s front yard, covering a third of his decorations, deeming a good chunk of them broken. She wonders for a short second why he hasn’t come out to check on the noise. 
Annie’s heart starts to race as she tries to get a rein on her growing panic. Cindy is a strictly indoor cat, only having been outside for vet visits. She thinks of what would bring her cat back home, yelling her name sweetly and kissing her teeth loudly. She starts to walk towards the tree line, snapping her fingers and chattering her teeth. 
“Annie?” She hears her name being called out from behind her. She throws her head over her shoulder and locks eyes with Harry, standing there in his infamous robe. He’s got his face turned away from the harsh wind and his face is scrunched up in confusion. “What on Earth are you doing out here?! Are you mental?” 
“Cindy got out! I don’t know where she went. She ran in this direction. She never goes outside, I don’t know what to do,” Annie exclaims, feeling the urge to tear at her hair. 
“Who’s Cindy?” Harry asks.
“My cat! She was scared by the branch falling and snuck right past me when I opened the door,” she explains, arms crossing over her chest as the chill of the night bites at her skin. She shivers, turning back towards the trees. They look like they’re beginning to come alive.
Harry looks her up and down and comes up behind her, wrapping that godforsaken robe around her shaking frame. She looks up at him, grateful for the extra layer. He has a serious look on his face, determined with a mix of compassion, and also curiosity. Annie is suddenly relieved that she has someone with her to handle the situation with more calm than she ever could.
“Why don’t you go inside and grab her favorite treats? And a blanket she loves? Something that smells like you would be best,” Harry says, listing off the necessary items as if he’s done this before. She looks at him, a bit puzzled, and he reads her expression easily.
“Our cats growing up were professional escape artists. I’ve done this once or twice,” he lets out a small chuckle. She nods and heads towards her house, grabbing everything they need and changing into a pair of winter boots and shrugging on a coat, shoving Harry’s robe towards him. 
“I got everything. Here’s your robe,” Annie says, unable to meet his eyes. She already feels indebted to him, and they haven’t even found Cindy yet. “Thank you for helping me. I’m just… scared,” she confesses, tears starting to well up. She presses her fists into her eyes roughly as if she could stop them from falling. 
Harry just nods, takes the garment, and starts shaking the treat bag. His deep voice carries into the night more than hers did as he walks around, zig-zagging across the snow. Annie holds Cindy’s favorite blanket that resides on her bed and wraps it around her. She follows Harry, both chorusing, Cindy! Cindy, baby! Come back! It’s too cold for you out here!
They walk the perimeter of Annie’s house, keeping to the tree line, when Harry shushes her. He stops in his tracks and listens to the silent night. Faintly, from the direction of Harry’s house, comes a small mewl. He walks briskly over, slowing his movements as he gets closer in order not to scare the small Persian. 
“Cindy? Where are you girl? Come out for your mama,” Harry half-whispers, half-shouts. He’s still shaking the treats lightly, starting to open them. From their right they can hear a crumpling of plastic, a flash of gray shooting out from underneath the collapsed blow-up of Santa on his sleigh. Annie cries out in relief as Cindy comes running towards them at full speed, crashing right into Harry’s legs. He scoops her up swiftly with one hand and holds a treat out to her in his other. 
“You had me so worried, Cindy! I cannot believe you. You want nothing to do with the outside world but decide to run out into the coldest night we’ve had so far! You’re crazy,” Annie half-sobs, holding the cats face in two hands. Cindy shakes the snow out of her fur and licks at Annie’s nose. Harry watches the interaction, feeling something unfolding in his own chest. He gestures for Annie to take her cat, picking long hairs out of his robe.
“I see everything’s all in order here, I’ll just—oh,” Harry lets out a grunt as this peculiar woman collides into his body, cat trapped between the two of them and licking at the pink fuzz surrounding Harry as if she were grooming a kitten. His eyes go a bit wide, arms frozen around Annie while she releases a string of, thank you so much, you have no idea how much she means to me, you didn’t have to do this but you did so I owe you, I’m sorry for what I said that night, I’m sorry about the olive juice, thank you, thank you, thank you, muffled into his chest. His hands find themselves resting on her back, stroking up and down in a means to calm her.
“Hey, hey… it’s okay. I know what it feels like. I’m glad she was okay,” Harry soothes. Annie pulls away, and a strange longing passes through his heart. He frowns slightly and clears his throat. 
“I’m going to go to bed now, and get this little gremlin inside. Thank you so much, Harry. I really do appreciate it, more than you know,” Annie says, a bit breathless. Snowflakes lay themselves to rest upon her eyelashes, lips pink from the cold and Harry has the innate urge to tuck a piece of unruly hair behind her ear. He blinks, forcing himself out of his head.
“Really, it’s no problem. I’ll be heading in as well. See you soon, Annie,” Harry declares. Annie realizes with a jolt that Harry just said her name for the first time. She’s suddenly overheating, and gives a single nod, holding Cindy tight to her body as she walks up the few steps to her front door. Harry watches her leave, only taking his eyes off her when he can’t see her anymore. He then turns around, looking at the demolition of his lawn. He inhales deep. 
“Fuck.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry does a double take when he sees Annie outside his home the next morning, attempting to break apart the large tree branch. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For the remainder of the season, Harry and Annie spend an inordinate amount of time together. From binge-watching their guilty pleasure TV shows to roaming the streets downtown at midnight, sharing the same love for empty places. It seemed as though, somewhere in the universe, a story began to unravel itself.
As the last snowflake melts on the first stem emerging from the soft ground, Harry kisses Annie. He wasn’t even planning on it. It was like second degree murder. He found himself looking at her looking at the bluest sky, the sky looking back at her like it wanted to kiss her as well; so he kissed her first. 
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bumbershots · 3 years
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Mistletoe & Wine
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A/N: Hello this is my collaboration for @goldenbluesuit very well put together Christmas song fic challenge. It’s my first time participating and my first time posting my writing here as well (I’m sort of new, I have no friends) so, I’m kind of nervous and English is not my first language (sorry for any mistakes) thanks to my boyfriend for being a Brit so he could help me with the “slang” and for reading this about fifteen times and listened to Mistletoe and Wine by Cliff Richard throughout the entire week with me lol. Thanks for  taking the time to read this :) If you want to befriend a twenty six year old Aries, or just send me an ask click here.
Word count: 2.8k
Summary: Harry meets a woman that is not here to stay, he will need to decide if that will keep him from making the most of the very few days they have together or dread the imminent separation.
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It was raining when her flight landed in London. The kind of rain that doesn't pour heavily, instead it settles over the city for days. And although she can't afford to take a cab, she steps out of the airport just to stare at the endless grey of the sky and wrap herself in her coat because of how cold it was. After a few more minutes she goes back inside to find the way to get out of there on the tube, she knew it to be possible after all the research she's been doing since the age of twelve on the internet.
Soon enough, the man she approached to ask for help, confirms that a train is leaving in a few minutes and she can easily get off at Hammersmith, he even helps her buy the ticket and recommends to get an oyster card if she is going to use London's Underground often. But she doesn't know, she relishes in the element of surprise that is surrounding her life for the next 3 weeks. It excites her to an unfamiliar degree to see people come and go into the carriage, it almost makes her miss her stop, but she manages to get off just in time, her hands clutching the heavy suitcase that contains all her nicest and warmest clothes. She follows the crowd up the stairs and out of the station, the busy street revealed before her is straight out of those books she restlessly studied at school, people wearing trench coats and long scarfs hurry in hopes to avoid the rain and then a red double-decker bus passes by. The cherry on top.
The spontaneous decision to spend Christmas in England instead of her home country was made months ago, on the night of her birthday, although her closest friends would say that she's been dreaming of it since she read Harry Potter. No one gave her a hard time for it, in fact, almost all her friends and family members went to the airport to wish her a safe trip. Her grandmother was cheeky enough to slip a twenty pound note when hugging her goodbye.
Every day of the first week went by in a blur, visiting museums, galleries and walking around the city, getting soaked in its beauty and the endless rain. By the beginning of the second week, a bit tired of the scarce options from the hotel's breakfast, she ventured out, burying half of her face in the scarf she bought the day before at Primark, her feet guiding her almost out of instinct to the little cafe at the end of Hercules road. The place is warm and the menu seems to have it all for a very fair price. After a couple of minutes the Full English wins, she iterates the order to the woman behind the counter and adds a cup of tea handing over the money.
"Get a seat love, I'll bring it over." The elder lady says making the girl smile and thank her before scampering across the room to sit by the window at the four seat table tucked in the corner.
It doesn't take long for her food to arrive and for her to dig in, feeling kind of full almost at the end, she slows down then, a trick her father passed down on her. Let it settle in for a few minutes before going back at it. Works every time. She gets lost on the daily life happening before her eyes, the people walking by, some in a rush maybe to get to work, others in a rush to get to the shops early and buy presents. She could easily tell the difference between one and other. The elderly couple walking to the market, slower than anybody else, arms linked and without a care in the world. A girl around her age doing "the walk of shame" elicited a smirk on her lips. Good for her.
"Do you mind if I take a seat?" She almost missed the question by the stranger standing there. "There's no empty seats elsewhere I'm afraid, I won't bother you." He was right, in the span of thirty minutes the place was full to the brim with families, the three seats at her table the only ones free so, she nodded and even managed to smile in a friendly way. Unfortunately for her, the green eyed stranger did the same, a sweet dimple on his left cheek more prominent than on the right one and she had to eat a spoonful of beans in an attempt to hide her blush.
Two weeks in the country, almost two weeks, and the best looking man on it decides to show up on a greasy spoon cafe when she's eating what's left of her sausages and beans. His food is delivered by the same lady from earlier, of course it is something that looks healthy. The sudden need to fly away from the place pops in her head, it's not a bad one, he doesn't even know her name. She wants to know his. She remembers how he said he wouldn't bother her, it's almost disappointing, she wants to be bothered.
The situation seems to be straight out of a rom-com, she is cutting the banger in little pieces, as if the formula to spark conversation with the mystery guy keeping her company is hidden in them. But after five minutes she sighs quietly, knowing that her own shyness won't let her even glance at him again. She will have to do her best to remember him and observe from the corner of her eye until the last piece of minced pork is consumed by her. And maybe she will gush about how gorgeous he was with her friends once she is back home, describing his shiny emerald eyes for them, sharing a sigh when she recalls how dreamy his accent was and squeal upon the memory of his raspy voice.
Ten minutes later her last bite is chewed and swallowed, the cup is empty as well. She's about to grab her coat draped on the back of her chair. "I'm going to have to break my non-disturbing you promise but... um, that's a sick cardigan." His voice doesn't sound confident as before, he even clears his throat, but his eyes never leave hers.
"Thanks, my grandma knitted it for me." She forgets about her coat and straightens out a bit for him to appreciate the colourful patchwork and extends her left arm to show the over-sized sleeve. Her companion hums in approval. "She hates it."
"What?" His green eyes widening in disbelief and she just shrugs.
"As soon as I put it on she went on and on about how horrible it was, the wrong proportions and how it all seemed better off in her mind." They share a giggle and don't notice that their empty plates have been taken away and the place is no longer swamped by people. "But I like it, I like it a lot, does a good job keeping me warm." And makes her look lovely, he thinks but doesn't say.
Instead he licks his lips before speaking again. "I'm Harry." He offers his left hand and she quickly eyes the cross tattoo.
"I'm a tourist." She says before adding her real name, earning a deep chuckle from him before letting go of his hand.
The set of circumstances in which she met Harry is dreamy for sure, but something about him made the set of affairs so real. When he asked about the places where she'd been the scoff afterwards and the roll of his eyes made her ask what was wrong about them. But he didn't answer, with a shake of his head and a deep sigh he asked for her phone number. The promise to show her the real London lingered in the air as they parted ways outside of the corner cafe.
Her heart raced at the very sight of him outside Borough Market the following morning. "Morning love, alright?" he greeted her before hugging her tight and quick. It was so genuine it made her wonder if she really just met him the day before. "Do you like doughnuts?"
"Who doesn't?" she says with that grin he worries will wait for him in his dreams.
"Wisest words ever spoken." Harry's arm is wrapped around her shoulders, guiding her on their quest inside the huge market.
The early morning is spent too soon, Harry guides her to talk to the stall owners, they are so passionate about their produce, most of them willing when possible to give them a sample. The highlight is the stop at Bread Ahead, they buy more doughnuts than what she thinks they need. They eat them all while sharing a Monmouth coffee. Harry shares with her stories about almost every stall they passed by. "I'm not a fan of red meat, and oysters." She keeps record of it, basking in his lovely anecdotes that seemed to summon the sun from it's hiding place. "We're granted a sunny day in winter!" He celebrates and it's impossible not to join him. "Let's go to Richmond Park."
Of course she nods in agreement and follows him down the street where he parked his car before she gets in the passenger seat. The stranger danger alarm, should've gone off in her head. But there was something about him, like he was holding her in place. As she heard Harry speak about his job, it started to make more sense in her head. Harry was a lot like this country, foreign, new, exciting and hers for the next few days. He made that clear when they parted ways at the end of the day.
"Come home with me for Christmas." Harry asked her on what would be the beginning of her last week in London, while having a picnic on Primrose Hill.
"With your family?" Her eyebrows were shot up when he nodded, fighting back that deadly smirk of his. "All your relatives will be there?" He nods again and she scoffs completely agitated. "Don't be daft Harry!" She voices out her feelings borrowing an expression of his.
He laughs and it's impossible for her not to join him, her face growing hotter by the second. "I don't want to go without you, and mum will love to have you there," that's what she fears.
"I don't know Harry, might be weird." He disagrees right away.
"It's close to Liverpool, we could spend a day or two over there." The past week he's been trying to learn as many things from her as possible and if he chooses his words carefully he can convince her. "Pay a visit to Anfield, The Cavern." His fake nonchalant attitude makes her roll her eyes, "Strawberry Fields is there too, you know?" She agrees and he kisses the back of her hand to mask the proud grin on his face.
In the past, she was always careful not to let a partner know how deeply she cared about them. The thought of being vulnerable made her lose her mind, thinking it was a sign of weakness. But seeing Harry drive through the English countryside, singing at the top of his lungs to Mistletoe and Wine by Cliff Richard and smiling just for her. It made her want to tell him, but not even all the words in every single language ever spoken by humanity could be enough to give him an idea of how much she cares for him.
There hasn't been a proper kiss between them, it puzzled her at first. Because his gaze seemed to be constantly directed to her lips. But then there was all the touching, holding hands, tucking her to his side when walking, his tender touch before hugging her goodbye. And the way he was always running his hands through her hair.
"She's a friend," he introduces her to his mum Anne and sister Gemma, after saying her name, chewing on the word like it's that mint gum he carries in his purse everywhere he goes. "Was a bloody tourist when I first met her but now... she's a proper Londoner." She doubts it, but she agrees on them being friends and she likes it, a lot.
They help Anne and Gemma to set the table and the finishing touches for dinner. Only three more family members show up and she chastises Harry for making her believe that all of his offspring was going to attend. That's how they usually spend Christmas Eve back home, she explains.
It saddens him, the thought of her going back to her home country in five days time. All the way across the Atlantic, six hours behind him. It's almost unfair.
"Tell me more about it," Harry's curiosity is genuine, thinking that he would love to know more about her traditions. Perhaps even be lucky enough to share them someday.
"We don't have these," she regrets taking a tube of brightly coloured paper. "We have piñatas though." She adds proudly and Harry's jaw hangs open in surprise.
"No fucking way!" He is immediately told off by his mum as they all take a seat at the table. "I thought that was only allowed for birthdays."
"There's no rules for that!" She takes the Christmas cracker out again and Harry takes it from the other end. "So, I just pull it?" He nods and it makes a noise revealing the present.
"You get the crown." Harry unfolds it before helping her fix it atop her head. "And the little toy, what is it?oh... I get the joke!" His family groans, his sister hiding her face in hands, but all she sees is the glint in Harry's eye before he reads. "Who's Rudolph's favourite pop star?"
"I don't know," she's the only one that was going to ask him. And she really wanted to know.
"Beyon-sleigh!" Harry watches in delight how the girl before him snorts at the silly and not so funny joke.
"That was awful." She confessed.
"Agree, next year we'll make our own. Riddles only." His mum adds and Harry protests right away but is shushed by Gemma's voice reading out loud the riddle from her cracker.
Next year, she will probably be spending the day with her numerous family, she thinks. Harry will be here again, telling awful jokes, pulling away Christmas crackers. Perhaps he will bring another person with him. She tries to push the poisonous thoughts down with a big gulp of wine. Only succeeding when Harry's left hand rests on her knee, his thumb rubbing circles on her skin exposed by her ripped jeans while he listens to his sister talk about her podcast. It marvels her how he is there, for everybody.
After dinner they play family games and Harry makes a fake tantrum after his cousin Chloe claims his companion for her team.
"She's mine!" He argues, his long arms embracing her easily. She ends up joining the other team, but the quick kiss she bravely gave to his neck before he let her go, confirmed the words he spoke.
There is a three step process Harry follows to know he's fallen in love. If he finds himself talking about them with every living soul, if he does something they like just because it makes him miss them less and finally if he takes them home to meet his mum. He knows that for the past few days, there was no other topic to discuss with him than the girl sitting beside him in the sofa. He's been drinking tea every morning, just because it reminds him of her. He watches her talk to his mother about how much they like Rod Stewart and knows that he's in too deep.
It should bother him, because she will leave. And all these moments spent, will be just distant memories for him to torture himself over and over again. He wants to feel the angst of knowing that maybe she will forget him, maybe she has a partner back home. He gives up on trying to feel miserable, agreeing with that song from earlier. It is a time to rejoice in the good that we see, a time for living and believing.
Right now all he sees is her, he sighs before tucking her by his side, her brown doe eyes meeting his briefly before sneaking an arm around his waist. She continues to chat with Anne and Gemma even after the rest of the guests leave, still holding onto him. Harry can see the fondness radiating from his mother and sister for the girl in his arms. He sees trust, and he smiles thinking of a new beginning.
What a beautiful sight.
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