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fireproofkings · 4 years

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The making of a sweater series

Part 1 || Part 2

Two things before we start: First, this is a long one and it has a few photos so buckle up if you’re reading. And second, I apologize in advance for the state of my nails in any of the pics, I know they are incredibly awful, but I promise I’ll do them tomorrow.

If you know me, you know I am the worst at keeping up with things, and if not, the fact that I have 7k drafts can give you a pretty good idea.

Last Saturday (July 11th) I went out and bought everything just as I expected, but while I was out shopping, Louis decided to attack us.

That’s one of those things you will always remember what you were doing the moment the news hit. I was buying all the supplies to make Harry’s sweater when Louis announced he was finally free.

My phone was blowing up, and when I went to check why, all of my group chats were screaming, and the lovely Ed (@literlarryreal) was sending me long voice notes telling me all the thoughts she has and let me tell you, it was a ride.

Yes, I cried in public and no, I am not ashamed to say it was not the first time I have done so with something Louis related.

Anyways, getting back on track, I spent way more than I was expecting to, but it’s alright lol. I am confident it’s all going to be worth it.

Under the cut you can find a summary on everything that happened this week with the process, and more pictures of Jack, my dog.

Here’s everything I bought that day. The quantities are exactly what is in the pattern in JW Anderson’s website (plus an extra colour I bought but then found a better match for, which I might use if I run out of any colour). I did end up finding everything, but I had to go to a few different stores to do it. There’s kind of a shortage due to the current situation and the fact that these aren’t essential goods.

I wanted to start that same Saturday, but I decided to finish that scarf I was making before, just so I wouldn’t have to go through all the trouble of changing needles and storing it away where it would probably get messed up, so I finished it and here’s a photo of it:

I ended up doing an infinity scarf, and have some yarn leftover, maybe I’ll do a hat or something like that in the future. Yes, those are my PJ’s don’t judge me.

Then I procrastinated starting the actual sweater for all of Sunday and Monday (12th and 13th). That’s something I tend to do, if you haven’t noticed.

One thing I hadn’t thought of as particularly hard, ended up being something out of my nightmares (I also tend to over exaggerate, if you’re reading this, you’re really getting to know me lol).

That green square is incredibly awful.

The pattern itself isn’t that difficult, but if you have to undo some lines it completely falls apart and you have to start over. This happened to me like three times the first time I attempted it.

Usually it takes me half an hour to 45 minutes to do one square, this one took literally two hours and a half. But it was so much easier and quicker the second time around. Putting in a lifeline and doing tallies in a notepad every time I finished a line helped a lot.

Jack did end up making it better. Even if him laying directly on top of it made it difficult to work.

On the other hand, the black and red jacquard squares were something that had me slightly worried. The technique is kinda confusing and is very easy to mess up if you are not paying attention.

The first few lines I did wrong, but then I learned how to do it properly and while the handling of the multiple strands of yarn is difficult, you get the hang of it pretty quickly.

But then, horror struck.

I realised that for some reason I was doing the squares 12cm long and not 14cm like they are supposed to be. So that panel was going to end up being 6cm shorter than the others in total, which doesn’t seem like much but was definitely going to show.

Here you can see the mess. I had to undo basically two whole squares, since the first one was 14cm (I really don’t know what was going on in my brain) and the second one, which was a jacquard pattern one, could be continued, but those two squares cost me about a whole day of work.

I was so frustrated I decided to stop for the day and take a long hot shower.

I came back to it the next day and Jack made it all better (can you sense a pattern -no pun intended- here?).

So, to wrap it up:

They are lined up in the way they go in the completed sweater. The little notes on top help me keep track of which one is each of them. The numbers in blue show the order in which they were done.

The first one was pretty easy except for the green square I talked about before, I started that one on Tuesday (14th) and finished on Wednesday (15th). That same day I started the second one which I finished early on Thursday (16th), it was really uneventful which I appreciated a lot, apart from my pointer finger hurting from pushing the needle, so I decided to invent some kind of protection with tape and silicone, which failed extremely, because it rides up and falls off.

Here you can see my failed attempt at some kind of protection for my pointer finger. I basically need a thimble, but I can’t find one online.

Maybe the uneventfulness of panel number two was to make up for the absolute nightmare that was the third panel that I had started that same day, the one I talked about being 6cm too short. It threw me off the loop for the rest of the day, which meant I only finished it late on Friday (17th) and by then I was too tired to do anything else.

Yesterday, on Saturday (18th) I started the fourth one, but I didn’t have the energy to work that much, and today, Sunday (19th), I haven’t done much more than a couple of rows.

By this point I have 3 completed back centre panels and another one 3/4 of the way done. I just have that 1/4 and the two side panels (that include shoulder shaping) left to finish the back, and then I have the front, sleeves, cuffs, collar, ribs, and button band to finish the knitting. Then it’s all ready to sew together.

Just as I did with last post, I want to close this off with some pointers for what is coming, just to keep myself on track and look back to later:

This week I want to finish the back and leave it all ready for sewing when I’m done with the rest of the knitting.

I have to write for a fic exchange I wish I had started earlier but I’m still confident on the time I have left, so that will be my priority, and not knitting.

I start classes again on August 3rd and I hope to be finished by then (with both the sweater and the fic lol), I am kinda confident I will be able to do it since I’m kind of 1/3 of the way through, so if I keep the same pace, or an even better one, I’ll be able to make it.

Something I’m not looking forward to is doing the shoulder shaping, I have no idea how to.

I have been worried the yarn I bought isn’t going to be enough (it might be just my anxiety talking), but I think it’s going to be okay since I am nearly 1/3 of the way through on the squares with one of the colours, but I haven’t gone through that amount of yarn yet.

I have made the executive decision to not do the tassels with the left over yarn and to sew the panels and ribbing together right sides together (so the seams will be on the inside) to give it a more polished look, but this might change in the future.

I’m starting to see it take shape, even if only the back, and I’m really excited!!!

If you want to see the other posts in these series go to the top where the other parts are linked or go to the tag here.

#the making of a sweater #mine #jack #harry's patchwork sweater #louis is free #sorry for all the dates #it's just so i can keep track of the time it's taking #thank you if you read this lol

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knithacker · 4 years

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You Can Knit Harry Styles' Colour Block Patchwork Cardigan! The Actual Pattern From The Designer Has Been Released and It’s FREE! 👉 https://wp.me/pjlln-dSN

#harry styles #harry styles sweater #harry styles sweater pattern #handmade #diy #free pattern #knit #knitting #patchwork sweater #JW Anderson #Jonathan Anderson

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gcldenmp3 · 4 years

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knitting tumblr, i have a question - im making a sweater and need super chunky yarn in various colors. i was looking to get the paintbox brand, but wanted to make sure it was worth the price. if not, do you have any recs?

#knitting #yes i am making the harry styles patchwork sweater if that gives you an idea of the colors #they are the only brand ive seen have the shades i would need or close enough #the only one they dont really have is burnt orange but their blood orange shade looked close #please help me #also is knitting tumblr a thing??

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mouthfulloftoothpasterry · 2 years

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Okay so I just started thinking about your tropes, mainly 70's and blind!harry verse, imagine either Harry or YN go shopping and buy clothes for their babies and they're really excited to see how they look in them. For the 70's verse, I feel like it'd be when they're smaller, bc I can see Honey being excited but not Lennon. But ah I just remembered racer!harry verse too! You know what you can do this for all your verses if you want

- 🍓

Omg im sorry it took me so long to reply, I try and respond as soon as I can but then it slips my mind as soon as I have a free moment :(

“Okay, fashion show! Daddy went shopping.” Harry smiles, dropping an arm load of different colored paper bags onto the couch. Y/n rolls her eyes at her husband, “How much did you spent this time?” Harry scoffs at her, pulling Honey up into his arms. “I literally spent one dollar, don’t accuse me of anything.” She shakes her head at how dramatic he is and walks off to the kitchen- it was obvious he didn’t only spend one dollar.

“Okay, slip this on and then go show mama.” Harry pulls a green blouse over Honeys head before slipping a pair of patchwork trousers over her chunky thighs and buttoning them. “Okay, run along and show mama, I’ve got to get your brother dressed up.

Harry waves Lennon over, pulling out a checkered pair of white and rust orange pants along with a matching orange turtle neck. “Arms up.” Harry whispers, pulling off the denim button up he was wearing and quickly changing them.

“Harry, you’re basically in the same outfit as Honey. Stop torturing my babies.” Harry scoffs, “well she looks damn good! I should be a fashionista, you know like the people who style people for the films?” Y/n rolls her eyes and fixes Honeys hair. “Well if you hate my style so much then I guess the granny square sweater vest and the new bikini is for me!”

Y/n rolls her eyes while her immature husband stomps up the stairs with all the bags in his hand. “It would have been yours anyways!”

*****

“What does it say?” Harry ask, feeling the embroidery of the baby onesie. “It says ‘holy cow I’m cute’ with a little cow on it.” Harry smiles, plucking his fingers from the fabric. “That’s cute, we should get that.” Y/n nods, tossing it in the cart. “We should get Finny new turtle pajamas, it seems like he wears them out as soon as he gets them.”

“Yeah, i think they have the kind he likes. Last time he didn’t like the fuzzy kind because it made him too hot at night.” Harry agrees with the shake of his head, cooing down at their newborn. Finnley was at Anne’s house so they decided to get a few errands in without the little boy running across the store. Harry smiles at his newborn, making little babbling noises to get the boy to giggle. “Oh, here’s the kind he likes.” Y/n tosses them in the cart before checking out.

“Finny!“ Harry calls, waiting to hear the sounds of his tiny feet padding on the floor. “Want to put on your new pjs?!” Harry questions, pulling the new pajama set out of the dryer. Finnley squeals, slapping his hands together and patting his fathers arms so he will pick him up. “Turtles!” He squeals with a giggle, grabbing the shirt. “Yes! They’re turtles, Finny! Let’s go change!”

****

“Um, that’s terrible.” Harry says, pushing down a pair of pink sweat pants. “They are for our two year old, I don’t think she cares much.” Harry rolls his eyes. Every time they go shopping Harry turns into the biggest diva, acting like a stylist and putting together outfits.

“Beau, go try this on, babe. I’ll be there is a second.” Harry says, handing him a couple Nike shirts. Beau groans, frowning and walking off to the dressing room that was only a foot away. “Now you, little ladybug, daddy is gonna find you a cute little outfit!” Harry pulls Poppy from his wife’s arms, kissing over her face and grabbing a little sage green checkered dress with a cream colored shirt to put under it. “Go put this on her and then come find me, lover. I want to see my ladybug in this cute little dress.” He pecks dramatic kisses over her cheeks before handing her back off to Y/n.

“Come on Grey, go follow your brother, babe.” Harry holds his hand a directs him to the dressing room.

“You’re so cute! You look like a little fairy!” Harry smiles, tossing her up then catching her and kissing all over her chubby cheeks. She squeals, grabbing his shirt and laughing out a “stop!” Which just comes out in little baby lips.

“Did those shirt work, Beau?” Beau shakes his head, wrapping his arms around Y/n’s leg. “He said they were itchy.” Y/n nods, walking off with Beau to go find more clothes.

#sorry this took absolutely forever #harry styles #blind!harry #70’s!harry #racer!harry

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jarofstyles · 3 years

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Hi! Can you write a blurb about Hades!Harry trying to make a flower crown for Persephone!Y/N but he's having a hard time because the flowers kept on dying everytime he touch them?

YES WE LOVE IT!

Warning: fictional and may not truly adhere to the stories of hades and Persephone, just for fun!

———-

His brow was furrowed tightly in focus. Harry, or Hades to most, was irritated beyond belief for once. The pink flowers his lover had managed to grow in the underworld, where nothing should ever live, we’re thriving. He had made her a large greenhouse and he filled it with trees, a pond, and hundreds of varieties of plants and flowers. Outside of the enchanted greenhouse, nothing else could truly live. But in their home, it would be a beautiful masterpiece.

She had just arrived back. 6 months away and they’d spent a week simply in bed. Passion filled them, and as much as it had pained him to leave a glowing, fucked out and sleeping lover in his bed- he wanted to try this. His Y/N, his Persephone and queen, deserved nice gifts. However, unlike Harry, she wasn’t one for true material things. She liked when Harry planned their dates and when he made her food, when he Knit her a patchwork sweater but in rainbow colors to rival his of varied tones of grey.

“Fucks sake.”

The frustrated huff left the king’s mouth as the pink flower wilted as he tried to rush and tie it with the stems. While his wife was one to not point out his shortcomings, this was one of them. How a woman so vastly full of life and light was in love with the king of the underworld, he wasn’t 100% sure.

All he knew was, she was his light and his life. He loved her more than he ever imagined possible. When he had thought his heart had turned grey and brittle, she watered it with her love and turned it to gold. He always did love gold.

He could sense her behind him, embarassed slightly as he placed the failed crown down on to the floor. Persephone was intrigued to see her large, intimidating, dark husband on the grass of their greenhouse. Sat cross legged with picked flowers around him, she took in the scene and couldn’t help a gentle coo come from her mouth.

He turned with a soft smile, wanting to grimace at his attempt but too full of love for his woman to let it show. She was covered in his red, silk button up, giving a look at her bruised thighs. And yet, in the underworld she managed to shine like the sun and enchant him every time she walked in the room.

“My love… what have you been up to?” She asked in a sweet voice. “You know I do not like waking alone….” She crossed the area with her bare feet, standing. Next to him.

“I was… attempting to make you a gift. It’s silly… I know. They die rather quickly in my hands. But I wanted a beautiful crown made of flowers for my Petal.” He turned and wrapped his arms around her thighs, his face burying between them to avoid further embarrassment. He had been foolish to think that anything but his Y/N would tolerate his touch.

Her fingers stroked through his silky waves, smiling widely to herself. “None of that, my love. It wasn’t silly…. It was so, so incredibly thoughtful of you.” Y/N was well aware of his nerves when it came to the greenhouse. Harry never wanted to ruin her work. Her oasis, he called it.

If only he knew that her oasis was simply anywhere he was.

“I don’t want to hear any of that. You did something… so thoughtful and sweet. It makes me so happy. Despite your nerves around my plants you still attempted it because you wanted to make me merely smile.” He almost purred with her fingers running through his hair, but nodded. She was right. Y/N always was.

“M’sorry.” He said muffled against her legs. “That I couldn’t do it.” He was disappointed but she wasn’t. To be honest, it only made her love for him grow- as if that was even possible.

“Don’t apologize.” She moved slightly in his grip, making him look up. Her body slowly sank down until she was placed straddled in his lap. Her hands grabbed the flowers and brought them to life, placing them in his hair. “There. They look gorgeous in your hair. I can teach you to make them…. And then we can return to our bed.” She purred. Leaning forward, she pressed her swollen lips to his in a longing peck. They had a long afternoon ahead of them.

#hades #hades persephone #persophone #blurb #blurbs #writing #fluff

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twopoppies · 2 years

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Re: the patchwork cardigan, Jonathan Anderson (the designer) very kindly made the pattern freely available to the public: https://www.jwanderson.com/jp/cardigan-pattern

Hi honey. I’m petty sue that anon wanted a finished sweater, as opposed to having to make their own. When the mentioned the “pattern”, I think they just wanted the squares to look exactly like Harry’s. But thank you so much!

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vorondoloknittingco · 1 year

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Harry Styles is the Most Wonderfully Dressed Singer in the Universe

Most singers have notable fashion adventures, but Harry Styles? In the midst of a fashion revolution. From One Direction's infancy in 2011 to today, the pop star has blessed us with so many great looks. What started with wavy hair and tight jeans quickly evolved into hand-knitted cardigans and hand-knitted sweaters within a decade.

If you want to get into the timeline of Harry's most influential ensembles, please let me break them down into some periods. The earliest notable is the period of the singer's colorful cardigans and knitted vests. From there he moved on to the era of long hair, then to the age of the playful crochet cardigan and sweater vest.Right now, Harry is in his ambitious age wearing sequins and sparkles as if it were his own business. No matter which ~Harry era~ you prefer, you're sure to enjoy all of the best Harry Styles outfits put together below.

1) Hand Knit Cardigan, Crochet Cardigan, Colorful Cardigan, Oversized Cardigan, Sweater Cardigan Women, Women's Sweater, Oversized Patchwork;

2) Harry Styles Sweater, Hand Knit Sweater, Blue Sweater, Crochet Sweater, Women's Sweater, Handmade Sweater, Sweater Men, Embroidered Sweater;

3) Harry Styles Vest, Floral Vest, Sleeveless Vest, Black Vest, Hand Knit Vest, Womens Vest, Boho Vest, Crochet Vest, Knit Sweater Vest

4) Harry Styles Sweater, Hand Knit Sweater, Black Sweater, Crochet Sweater, Women's Sweater, Handmade Sweater, Sweater for Men, Boho Sweater

Harry Styles knows how to carry clothes. Styles lived up to his last name in earnest for years. This is because he knows the definition of style: to fit his wardrobe into a series of basic elements and then have some fun with his finishing touches. From chunky cardigans to embroidered sweaters and floral patterned vests, her outfits never stop inspiring.

Harry's House is now out with his new album, we expect bigger harmony...

Each show on Harry Styles' Love On Tour offered more than just tremendous music. The performances doubled as a fashion show featuring Styles' custom-designed unisex cardigans and fans dressed in equally theatrical fits. In some cases, he even encouraged a certain dress code for his fans to follow, such as Styles' Harryween shows. The tour was the perfect combination of music, fashion and entertainment, but Styles also kills fashion play off stage.

While Styles has always been fond of fashion, this year has seen the singer really master and develop her performance style. He appeared on stage with boho cardigan, cardigan sweater and oversized cardigans. She wore summer cardigan for Halloween shows and dressed like a seriously stylish ghost in a white, frilly dress.

Styles hasn't made many red carpets this year, but in the situations he has, Styles has been a memorable fit. At this year's Grammys, he set fandom on fire when he wore a long cardigan and lavender-colored boa. She wore a sweater with a blue chick pattern; Both looks have become popular this year. At the Brit Awards, Styles channeled the 1970s with patchwork cardigans and summer cardigans. The singer's style seems to be making itself better every year, so let's prepare ourselves for what 2022 will hold. At just 28 years old, Harry Styles has established himself as one of the most talented multi-hyphens in the game.

With "Watermelon Candy", which topped the charts in 2019, she has already proven her success in singing and plunged into the world of acting. But what we're really obsessed with is Harry leading the fashion. He's come a long way since wearing hoodies and baggy jeans. He fasts forward 12 years and Harry Styles is the guy all the designers want to put on a knitted cardigan.

But if we're talking about Harry's style shift, we definitely need to discuss the early years: 2014, 2015, 2016 where Harry's tailoring rules book consists of knit cardiga, men's cardigans, wool cardigans, patterned vests, chunky sweaters and retro sweaters.

Then, around the time he was cut for a role in the 2017 Dunkirk film – he witnessed Harry's typical boy band aesthetic shift to a much more adventurous approach to fashion; Since then, she has been praised for challenging gender norms and blurring them through style.

She became the face of designers who made custom-designed cardigans, sweaters and vests, then wore a transparent, lacy blouse with a single pearl earring at the 2019 Met Gala. In December 2020, Harry appeared on the cover of several magazines, wearing a streetwear sweater paired with an oversize sweater.

She told the magazine: "The clothes are there to have fun, try on and play... When you buy something like, 'There are clothes for men and there are clothes for women,' when you remove any barriers, obviously you open them. In the arena where you can play."

And this year was a time when Harry took to the stage in sparkling, animal sweaters and colorful cardigans that dazzled us.

Transforming from One Directioner to Hollywood, the leading man accomplished much in his way of pushing the boundaries of mainstream fashion by doing very little: 90's sweaters, handknit sweaters, crochet vests, black vests, and sleeveless vests earned him both friend and foe. While Styles isn't the first man to "gender-bend" tailoring standards, her pride in enjoying fashion may compound over her, despite social pressures to conform to toxic masculinity. Definitely successful.

#harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harries #vintage #sales #cute

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svnflowervol666 · 4 years

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Ma Petite Chérie: Babymoon (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Read more from this little universe, Ma Petite Chérie, in my masterlist!

Summary: Harry and Y/N go on their babymoon.

Warnings: pregnancy, smut, fluff

Word Count: 6.4k

Author’s Note: Hello! I wrote this in order to cross off a few requests. I promised Harry and Y/N would have a baby of their own, plus I get asks all of the time to write pregnancy sex - specifically awkward, giggly pregnancy sex. I also got one about Harry getting a love boner, so here is my attempt at shoving all of that down your throat at once. Try not to choke :-) I also just reallllllly love Harry, Y/N, and Tallulah, so I wanted to give them some more love. Also made this one pornstache!Harry, so, there’s that. And one last thing...I know the verb tense is way off in this but I could not be arsed to edit it so plz don’t drag me. I hope everyone enjoys! Take care and TPWK.

“Oh my god,” Y/N huffed as she collapsed on the plush sofa in the living room of the cottage.

“It feels so fucking good out here by the water.”

“Breeze is nice, innit?” Harry replied as he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets to check out how well the place he’d rented for the week was stocked.

“Beats going t’ France at the end of June. Think I’m kinda gettin’ tired of Paris t’ be honest.”

“That is quite possibly the snobbiest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Mr. Styles,” she said with a laugh as she began to flip through the tourist brochures that were left on the coffee table.

Not that they’d be partaking in any of it, no. Their plan was to hole up in the quaint, Scottish cottage that sat right on the coast of the North Sea for the whole week, not even planning on changing out of their pajamas.

It was their babymoon after all - a time of peace and tranquility before the arrival of their first child together.

Harry hummed and he made his way from the kitchen to where Y/N was seated on the couch. He stood behind her, knees knocking against the back of the sofa as he crouched down and wrapped his arms around her very large, very swollen belly.

“If I recall correctly, Mrs. Styles, I sat my injured arse in a stiff train seat to Edinburgh for five hours because someone was too scared to fly even though they were cleared to do so by three separate doctors.”

“’M not Mrs. Styles for another year and a half,” Y/N muttered under her breath, albeit not trying to keep Harry from hearing it in the slightest.

Harry snickered into her neck, then playfully nipped her earlobe with his teeth as he whispered.

“Not my fault yeh got knocked up and we had t’ push the wedding.”

“It is very much your fault, Harry,” Y/N swatted at his face, fingers first brushing his jawline that was covered in a rough stubble and then just barely tracing the full-blown mustache that sat like a caterpillar above his bright pink top lip.

Harry smirked down at her, nostrils flaring wide and lips disappearing inside of his mouth.

“How’s your rib?” Y/N asked suddenly.

“Good. Why?” Harry’s brows quickly furrowed together in confusion as to why she was asking about his injury.

“Might have to ride that later if you’ve got the lungs for it,” she tapped her index and middle fingers along her philtrum, right where Harry’s mustache sat on his own face.

Her blunt lewdness had Harry’s cock immediately growing stiff in his pants. It had been a while. His injury coupled with her being in the last trimester of her pregnancy had left them both feeling unsatisfied for the past several weeks. Maybe this babymoon would prove to be relaxing not only because Harry and Y/N get to spend a week without a rambunctious almost six-year-old screaming at all hours of the day, but for other reasons too.

“Think I’d actually drop dead from happiness if yeh sat on m’ face right now, lovie. But, before yeh get too comfortable with that idea, we need t’ head into town. Kitchen’s only got the necessities, and I doubt yeh want t’ eat homemade bread for a week.”

“I’m sure you’d love to eat homemade bread for a week,” Y/N jested, poking fun at Harry’s latest obsession with the carb-filled food.

“Remind me again why I put up with you?” Harry toyed as he extended his arms out towards Y/N to use as leverage to help her hoist herself up from the couch.

When she regains her balance, she lifts herself up just slightly to press a quick kiss to Harry’s lips that he happily accepts. Y/N hums and jokingly checks the imaginary watch that sits on her wrist.

“How much time do you have? That list is pretty long.”

The trip to one of the only supermarkets in the small part of Edinburgh that they were staying in had proved to be rather tiring, because Harry opted to use store-bought pasta instead of making his own - something he never does. Maybe it was his healing rib causing him to be short-winded, but he simply could not bring himself to hand-make the pasta they chose to have for dinner that night. He bitched about it all night, about how it wasn’t as chewy as it should be and how it would have tasted much better if he would have just made it himself, but it still didn’t deter him from helping himself to a second serving.

He claimed it was because while he did use pre-cooked pasta, he didn’t use sauce from a jar and made his own from fresh tomatoes and that was the appeal. Y/N just thinks Harry likes to complain and listen to himself talk.

After dinner, just as the sun was setting and Harry and Y/N were waiting for their pasta to digest before they dove into the box of fresh pastries from a bakery they found along the way, they decided to take a walk around the property. The renovated, stone cottage that was overgrown with vines and leaves sat along a short cliffside that overlooked the North Sea. It was a short walk down the cliff that brought them to the beach, where mist from the ocean whisped around their legs and ankles like a thin veil of smoke. While it was the middle of summer, Scotland’s persistent rain showers and their proximity to the water never made it too hot to bear.

“Lulah would love it out here. We’ll have to bring her when the baby’s older.”

“She realIy would,” Harry agreed as he wrapped his sweater further around his chest.

“Know yeh didn’t give birth t’ her, but I swear you two are just alike sometimes. Absolutely hates bein’ hot and gettin’ sweaty just like you.”

Y/N smiled softly and knowingly at Harry before reaching into the pocket of the patchwork sweater of Harry’s that she’d stolen for their stroll on the beach for her phone.

“I’m gonna call her.”

She picked up on the third ring, Y/N’s phone screen then illuminated with a live image of a gap-toothed Tallulah. Well, it’s Mitch’s phone, but she’d been waiting for this promised FaceTime call all day so of course she’s quick to answer.

“Mummy!”

Both Y/N’s and Harry’s heart swelled in their chest when they heard Tallulah speak. It had been several months since she’d decided to start referring to Y/N as her mother, but neither of them had grown used to it just yet. Y/N felt a sense of achievement in “earning” the title of being Tallulah’s mum after all of the years she’d spent with her, and Harry felt a sense of resolution. His family was a real family now, and not just a patchwork of awkward relationships and trust issues. Y/N was Tallulah’s mum and she was now seven months pregnant with their own child and they’d be married by the end of next year. He was actually there to see his child grow this time, they weren’t a secret kept from him out of spite. He’d be there for all of it, even the gross and bloody and goopy bits. And he’d never felt more complete.

“Hi, baby,” Y/N beamed from ear to ear.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re walking on the beach,” Y/N answered.

“Want to see it?”

The five-year-old (five and three-quarters if you asked Tallulah herself) nodded quickly, and Y/N then flipped the camera around to show her the view of the water. Y/N pointed out their cottage from where they stood in the sand, turning the camera to Harry briefly as he held up a peace sign so Tallulah could see that her dad was also on the beach with her. She told her all about the train ride there and how Harry almost slipped and broke his face when was carrying his and Y/N’s luggage into the cottage.

Harry listened to his two little loves talk back and forth with the biggest smile on his face as he absent-mindedly scoured the beach for rocks he could skip along the water. He noticed whenever Tallulah said something that Y/N thought was funny, she had to cup her bump with her hand and forearm to keep it from shaking her entire body. She told him she hated laughing now, because it made her look like Santa Claus, but Harry thought she couldn’t look more beautiful.

“That’s so pretty! Can we all go when the baby is here?” Tallulah asked, puckering into a pout as she begged.

“I think that’s a great idea, Lulah. We were just talking about that, weren’t we, Harry?”

Harry perked up from where he had been washing a sandy shell off in the ocean and suddenly appeared in view of the camera and took the phone from Y/N.

“Hmm?” he asked as he studied Tallulah’s appearance.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Mitch to watch his baby girl while he went away for a week with his other baby girl, it was that him and Sarah voluntarily asked to babysit Tallulah and that’s what made him so apprehensive to accept their offer. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary about a sleepover at Uncle Mitch and Aunt Sarah’s every now and then, but to want to watch his daughter for an entire week certainly was. Harry felt like Mitch was plotting against him and that he’d come back to Tallulah with bright blue hair and bangs or she’d be sporting the world’s worst potty mouth when she came home, but so far that didn’t seem to be the case.

She was wearing Harry’s “Dream Boat” shirt that she’d claimed as her own a few years back when Y/N had taught her to wear her father’s clothes when she missed him because the smell would remind her of him (he had to steal it back and sleep in it a few times every now and then to keep his scent on it), and her long, brown hair was damp and neatly braided into two plaits and hanging off her shoulders. That had to have been Sarah’s doing, because Harry knew Mitch could barely put his own hair into a ponytail without creating several lumps and redoing it eighteen times before it looked presentable - meaning he certainly wouldn’t have been able to make a five-year-old sit still long enough to braid her hair perfectly.

She looked fine, though. Happy, healthy, certainly didn’t have blue hair or bangs and hadn’t said a single naughty thing since she’d been on the phone with Y/N.

“Lulah wants us to come back here after the baby’s born and take her with us,” Y/N beamed.

“I think we can work that out. Sounds quite lovely, actually,” Harry concurred.

“Yeh bein’ good for Mitch and Sarah?”

“Mhmm,” Tallulah nodded.

“We had pizza for dinner.”

“That sounds yummy,” Harry enthused, trying to let his daughter know he had his full attention.

“It was bery good,” she sighed.

There was a long pause before Tallulah blurted out suddenly in the most serious tone, “When are you gonna shave the rest of your mustache? Mitchy was making fun of you today.”

Harry was caught between a gasp and a laugh, which resulted in him choking on his own spit. Y/N turned on her heels in the sand to look at him with wide eyes.

“You okay?” Y/N mouthed quietly to Harry, completely oblivious to everything that had happened in the last thirty seconds.

Harry nodded, wiping the involuntary tears from his eyes as he coughed himself back to life and regained his composure.

“What exactly did Uncle Mitch say about my mustache?” he prodded.

Tallulah shrugged, subconsciously wiggling her loose bottom tooth with her tongue.

“Don’t ‘member. Just that you look weird with it.”

“Well that’s not a very nice thing t’ say, is it?”

“Mummy said you look weird, too,” Tallulah spouted without hesitation.

Her comment left Y/N’s mouth agape, covering her smile with her palm as Harry’s raised eyebrows feigned offense in her direction.

“She did?” Harry asked sarcastically, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Yeah,” Tallulah sighed as if it was exhausting having to tell your own father that his facial hair looks off-putting.

“I think you should shave it, too. It’s scratchy when you kiss me goodnight.”

All Harry could offer in return was stunned laughter while Y/N hid her face in Harry’s peck. Her bump pressed lightly into his and even though he was pretending to be mad at her, he wouldn’t dare think about pushing her off of him - not while she was this warm and cozy against his chest.

“Well, if mummy really hates it I suppose I’ll get rid of it. But,” Harry pauses and pulls Y/N out from where she had burrowed her face into his sweater.

“I think I might know a trick that’ll convince her t’ let me keep i-”

“Enough!” Y/N exclaimed, clamping both of her hands around Harry’s mouth.

Harry chuckled against her palm and poked his tongue through his lips to lick her fingers, which sent her hands flying back down to her leggings so she could wipe them dry.

“I swear to god, Harry. You’re five years old,” she joked with a disgusted expression on her face, to which Tallulah had something to say to that.

“No, I’m five years old!”

The two adults laughed in unison.

“Alright, Lulah. We’re gonna go inside now. ‘S gettin’ kinda cold out,” Harry said.

“We’ll call you tomorrow before bed. Alright, lovebug?” Y/N added.

“Okay,” Tallulah huffed.

“We love you, Lulah,” Harry spoke softly into the microphone.

“Love you, too...Daddy wait!”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Give the baby kisses for me. And no bikes!”

Harry wanted to laugh, but he also wanted to cry, so he settled on a closed-mouthed smile that was enough to convince Tallulah that he was unbothered by what she said.

“Kisses for the baby and no bikes. Got it,” he nodded.

“Okay, I’m gonna go eat some sweets with Sarah!” the child yelled, suddenly energetic like she had temporarily forgotten that her and Sarah had baked cookies twenty minutes before Y/N called.

“Alright, but it’s almost bed time so not too m-!” was all Harry could answer to before his daughter ended the call and presumably raced to where ever Sarah was in their house.

“‘S like she doesn’t even miss us,” Harry mumbled as he placed Y/N’s phone in his back pocket and began walking back up to the cottage with his arm wrapped around Y/N’s shoulder.

Y/N hummed, basking in the warmth that radiated from Harry’s chest as he held her.

“They’re just buttering her up. She’ll be crying to leave by the time we get back.”

“Just don’t really know why they were so keen on keepin’ her t’ be honest.”

Harry positioned himself one step behind her as they walked up the stone steps together, keeping one hand on the small of her back. Y/N peered over her shoulder at him, her tight lips curling up into a smirk as if to say she knew something he didn’t.

“What?” Harry asked.

Y/N shrugged, “Promised I wouldn’t tell.”

Harry clearly didn’t like that answer, because he moved his hand that was supporting her waist and quickly pinched her bum.

“Tell me,” he demanded, eyebrows scrunched together and lips pursed together in what could be considered a childish pout that mimicked Tallulah’s.

Y/N sucked her lips into her mouth, contemplating whether or not she should spill the beans on the news Sarah had shared with her a few weeks prior.

“They’re gonna start trying for a baby soon,” she whispered as if were a long-kept secret told in a room full of nosey people despite the two of them being alone on the otherwise desolate beach.

Harry’s ears perked up, a wide smile adorning his face from ear to ear.

“No fucking way,” he mumbled, and suddenly all of Mitch’s incessant hammering of baby questions he’d sent Harry’s way in the past few months suddenly making a lot of sense.

Harry thought he was trying to be a good friend and stay engaged in Y/N’s pregnancy, but now he understands the real reason behind his behavior.

Y/N nodded deviously as they make their way into the living room of the cottage.

“They’ve been asking everyone they know with kids to let them come over just to see if they can handle it. I mean, if you ask me, I think they’ll do great. Nothing wrong with trying it before buying it, I guess,” she said with a shrug.

“God, he’s gonna be such a good dad,” Harry was practically beaming for his closest friend.

“I know,” Y/N agreed, walking over to Harry to hold both sides of his head in her hands as if he was a disobedient puppy being disciplined.

Her bump prevented her from getting too close to Harry’s chest, the roundest part of her belly nudging Harry’s tummy.

“They’re both very excited. Which is why, when he finally decides to tell you, you have to act surprised. Act like he told you you just won the lottery or something. Alright?”

Harry sarcastically changed his facial expression to mock bewilderment. His eyebrows rose well off into his forehead and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor as he gasped.

“How’s that? Think he’ll buy it?”

Y/N jokingly jabbed him in the shoulder.

“Smartass. I’m going to take a shower. I’m sticky and I smell like the ocean.”

“Guess I gotta keep workin’ on it, then.”

When he’s done cleaning up what was left of their dinner, he heads to the master bedroom with the intention of washing up in the shower after Y/N. He’s messing around with the A/C unit on the window to make sure it’s not set to a temperature that will smother them in their sleep and unpacking their luggage into the wooden dresser, where an antique turntable rests.

Stacked long the side of the record player, there was a handful of old vinyl, most of which Harry either recognized or new very well. He was actually shocked to find a Shuggie Otis album in the collection, to which he quickly slipped the record out of the worn sleeve and set the needle to the edge and waited for the soft sound to fill the room while he worked.

“That thing works?” Y/N’s voice broke up the old 70s tune as she exited the bathroom with her hair tied up with one of Harry’s scrunchies that she stole out of his toiletry bag, wrapped in only a towel that barely fit around her form.

“I know,” Harry agreed, “Needs a new needle but other than that ‘s in pretty good shape.”

“Leave it to you to find a rental with 70s records in the bedroom,” there was a lighthearted tone in her voice as Y/N poked fun at him.

She padded over to her luggage in the corner of the room for a change of clothes, only to realize Harry had unpacked it all for them. As she’s rummaging through the drawers trying to figure out where Harry had put what, she lets her towel drop to the floor freely.

Harry doesn’t know how must time has passed, but he knows he’s staring. He’s staring at the water droplets that drip from the stray hairs on the nape of her neck and run down her bare back. He’s staring at the swell of her stomach where their baby lies, at the faded, almost-shiny stretch marks on the sides and the newer, darker ones on the underside that had only recently broken through. He’s staring at the bracelet on her wrist, the one that’s braided pink and blue with three beads on it - one ‘H’, one ‘T’ and one heart. Tallulah made it for her at school one day and told her the heart was for the baby and also because she loved her. It was hanging on by its last few threads, threatening to snap as each day passed, but she refused to take it off.

All he does know is that he loves her so much that he thinks none of this is real and that he’ll wake up one day and be in his early twenties again with no direction in life and the insidious feeling that he’ll die alone without ever finding his “person.” It’s when Y/N called out to him and snapped him out of his thoughts that he’s realized his underwear are suddenly feeling incredibly tight.

“Har,” Y/N beckoned him away from whatever had been occupying his brain.

“Hmm?”

He resituated himself on the bed and crossed his legs in an attempt to hide himself from her.

“I said the hot water in there’s kinda shit, so you’ll probably want to wait a little bit before you get in.”

“‘S alright,” Harry dismisses, “Come ‘ere.”

He draws her towards him with an outstretched hand, navigating her around the bedpost and over to the side where he had been sitting. With the gentlest of touches, he runs his fingers over her bare legs. The coolness of his rings don’t make well with her skin that was still extremely warm from her shower, causing hundreds of tiny goosebumps to erupt around her thighs. Harry raises her shirt, one of his that she stole when her own clothes became too uncomfortable, but even now she’s nearly stretching this one to its limit, and rests it on top of her bump.

She doesn’t question him, doesn’t chastise him. She lets him love on her, lets him press kisses to her skin just above her belly button (making sure to give an extra one from Tallulah per her request) and rest his cheek against her stomach while his other hand feels around on the other side in hopes to feel the baby move or kick or do something to let him know that they’re there. Lucky for Harry, baby knows when their dad is around and is quick to make themselves known, so he takes a second to savor these last few moment he’ll have with his newest bub before they’re earth-side in a little less than two months.

Y/N lets him be because she knows how important this is to Harry. She knows that he never got these moments with Tallulah and that it’s one of the things that plagued him during those nights where he feels lonely despite her being asleep right next to him. He never got to feel her kick in her mum’s tummy and he didn’t get to see her grow from the size of a pea to the size of a melon before she was welcomed by her parents and the rest of her family that had been waiting anxiously for her arrival.

No, Tallulah was dropped on his doorstep like a wet kitten in the middle of the night. Shivering and crying and just needing someone to hold her and tell her that it was going to be alright because her mother had decided she’d be better off elsewhere. Of course, she was too small to remember, but Harry could never forget it.

So, it’s the least she can do. To let Harry love on her. Love on them.

Her eyes catch his once or twice and she can see the gears in his head turning. There’s something on his mind and he’s hesitant to tell her what it is. Y/N lifts his head by tilting his chin up, her index finger brushing over the healed scar on the underside of his jaw from a few months prior.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” she whispered.

Harry shakes his head, a grin on his lips.

“‘M just really, really happy right now. Happy tha’ I’m here w’ you.”

Y/N smiles back at him genuinely before pulling away from his grasp and gesturing to his lap.

“And I’m happy that I’m here with you. Seems like your little friend is really happy, too.”

A soft groan emits from Harry chest, having realized he’d uncrossed his legs at some point and his very prominent bulge had come into Y/N’s view.

“Sorry, lovie. Didn’t mean t’ make it like tha-”

“I’m just messing with you. You know,” she ponders, “I was half-way kidding when I asked about your lungs earlier. But... This will be the last time we’re kid-free for a while,” she taunted.

“Are yeh asking?” Harry jests and points his thumb towards the bathroom door, “‘Cos I was actually plannin’ on just having a wank in the shower.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N shrugs and moves his hands off of her waist as she pretends to walk towards the living room.

Before she can take two steps, Harry’s standing up and pulling her back into him for a kiss. It’s full of heat and passion and almost knocks Y/N off of her feet. He cradles her head in his large hands and moves to whisper in her ear.

“Really gonna let me fuck yeh?”

A quiet chuckle escapes her lips, to which she replies, “What else did you think we were gonna do all week?”

He’s unable to bite back his own laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound to ever grace Y/N’s ears.

“Then get on the bed and take yeh clothes off.”

They work quickly, as they’ve conditioned themselves to do over the years of squeezing in any time they can together before they’re interrupted. Y/N lies back on her elbows as she waits for Harry to undo his pants and her breath catches in her throat when his boxers hit the floor.

His cock is hard, not fully, but the sight of the first few beads of glistening precum causes a shiver to run down her spine. She’s blown him a handful of times since he’s been in recovery, but she’s been far too pregnant and he’s been far too injured lately to engage in any kind of actual fun. It’s safe to say that they’re both more than ready.

Harry scratches at his scalp, unsure of how to word his questions as he looks her body up and down.

“How do you...erm...how do you wanna-?”

“My stomach, please,” Y/N says with a laugh.

She quickly reaches for one of the pillows behind her and gets on all fours, wedging the object underneath her bump to keep some of the weight off of her back. Slowly, she arches her spine down towards the mattress, and the glimpse Harry catches of her pussy through the light of the setting sun is enough to send another jolt straight to his cock.

Harry wastes no time joining her on the bed, caressing her hips and moving back to massage the plump skin of her ass. He leans down on top of her, flips her hair over to one side, and begins sucking on the sensitive skin between her neck and jaw.

“Gonna let me taste yeh first, right?” he mumbles into her skin.

Y/N hums in response, attempting to rock backwards in order to feel Harry’s cock rub against her backside. She hears Harry laugh, presumably because he’s caught on to her neediness, so it only pushes him further to be the tease he’s notorious for being.

He sponges wet kisses down her back, getting a rise out of every audible breath that leaves Y/N’s throat.

“Relax, baby,” Harry says when he feels her growing tenser as his kisses travel closer to where she needs him the most.

“Gonna get yeh there. Just gotta be patient.”

Harry presses one last kiss on the final notch of her spine before using one of his hands to spread her legs open just a little bit further. When he parts the globes of her ass, his mouth waters. Her pussy is shimmering with her arousal, perfect and on display just for him.

He tests the waters by running the tip of his tongue from her clit up to her center and he hears a sigh of relief leave Y/N’s lungs at the contact. Next, he’s massaging her folds, exploring her and refamiliarizing himself with the way she tasted. Harry feels her relax into the mattress with each lap of his tongue against her, silently begging him for more. His tentativeness allows him to read her body language and he draws back momentarily to spread her lips apart with his middle and index finger.

The cool air against her core stuns Y/N, but is quickly drowned out with a moan when she feels Harry’s warm saliva drip from her ass down to her clit. His mouth is back on her before she can recover from the sensation, lapping her up and flicking at her clit with his tongue and driving her mad. He’s got his nose buried inside of her as he devours her in the way that he’s really been yearning to for months (he doesn’t count the late night or early morning quickies because he claims he never gets to spend as much time taking care of her as he really wants to). The scruff from his mustache is staunch against her soft folds, but Harry’s tongue is quick to soothe the burn and she loves it.

He smirks against her as she lets out a particularly loud moan when his facial hair brushes against her clit. What was that about shaving my mustache? he thinks to himself but does not dare say aloud.

When he senses that she needs even more, his fingers move from spreading her apart to pressing against her opening. Gathering her wetness on his digits, he slowly pumps them in and out of her. Y/N’s mewls and whimpers are like music to his ears and only spurs him on further. He ruts his hips against the comforter, anything to relieve the throbbing between his legs that is a result of how pliable she’s become for him. She’s soaking the rings on his fingers in the most picture-perfect way and Harry truly genuinely can’t get enough of it; and neither can she. Which is why he’s confused when one of her hands swings around her backside to stop Harry from working her open.

“Har-” she pants.

He withdrawals all contact immediately and peaks his head around to look at her face.

“Yeh good?” he asks as she’s stands up on her knees and turns around to face him.

“‘M great. Wanna be on top now,” she says, her lips plump and swollen from biting down on them so harshly that she nearly drew blood.

“You sure? Yeh don’t want me t’ finish yeh first?”

His eyes dart from her lust-blown eyes to her round belly.

“Mhm. Now lay your pretty ass down before I change my mind.”

She doesn’t have to tell him twice and he’s rolling over on his back, working his way to prop himself up against the headboard. His cock is red and leaking against his stomach, excruciatingly waiting to be buried inside of his girl. He wonders why she’s staring at him with an annoyed expression on her face, but then she speaks up.

“Do you see how pregnant I am? Gonna have to lay all the way down, shit head.”

He does as he’s told and he’s honestly scared that he’ll cum in five seconds if she doesn’t get on with it.

“I swear to god, if you laugh at me,” she grunts as she straddles his waist, “I’ll cut it off.”

“‘M not gonna lau-”

It’s his turn to moan aloud when she grips onto his cock, running it across her folds to collect as much wetness as she can before she allows him to stretch her out. He’s focusing so much on not losing it right then and there that he doesn’t realize she’s stopped and is waiting for the go-ahead. Through his dark, thick lashes, he nods; as if she would have to ask.

Harry reaches for her hands as she lowers herself onto him, the two of them squeezing a bit too harshly when she reaches the last few inches. The burn consumes Y/N from the inside and out, but it’s never felt so right to either of them.

She’s not moving just yet, but her cunt is pulsing around him and it feels almost as good as the real thing. They’re staring at each other, both with looks that relay more than words.

“Love you,” Harry’s face softens as he looks up at her.

“Love you, too,” Y/N smiles as she leans down as far as she can in search of a kiss.

He meets her in the middle and their lips find one another and mash together in harmony. The rocking of their hips reminds both of them what they’re actually doing, and causes both of them to gasp at the way Y/N pumped Harry half-way in and out of her.

When she’s settled back down on the base of his cock, she begins slowly rutting herself back and forth. It takes her just a little bit longer than usual to work up a steady rhythm, but when she’s got it, boy does she got it and it feels so fucking good. The tip of Harry’s cock is pressing against the deepest parts of her and before she knows it, there’s a warm coil winding up in her tummy that bounds itself tighter and tighter inside of her.

She needs to go faster and she needs to go faster now, so she braces her hands on Harry’s chest as she continues to fuck herself on Harry’s cock. Harry lets out a sound that she can’t tell apart between a groan of pleasure and one of pain. His hands dart quickly from where they’d been gripping at her thighs to grip at her wrists.

“Can’t do tha’, lovie. Not the ribs.”

“Shit,” she laughs, subconsciously clenching down on his shaft in the process.

“Sorry.”

“‘S okay,” Harry reassures her as he repositions her hands on his shoulders so she can still have something to grab on to.

“Keep going.”

Her bump is now cradled against Harry’s stomach and it allows her to find relief in the way that her clit is brushing against the trimmed nest of hair that lies around the base of his thick, throbbing cock. He’s twitching inside of her so much that she can feel it alongside her thrusts as they continue. They both won’t last much longer and they know it.

“‘M getting close.”

“I know,” Harry pants beneath her.

She switches positions, now with her fingers digging so hard into the meat of Harry’s thighs that her knuckles are changing color. She’s able to lift her hips up and down a bit more from this angle, and it allows Harry’s cock to nudge against her sweet spot.

“Feels so good, H,” she whimpers so quietly that almost Harry couldn’t even hear it.

“‘S that it? Right there?” he mocks as he works at meeting her thrusts with his own.

The best he gets from Y/N is a nod as she focuses the best she can on getting herself there. She’s coating him with her juices with each pump and with one glance down at where they’re joined together nearly shoots Harry over the edge.

“Yeh gonna cum f’ me?” Harry asks as his thumb reaches under her to begin rubbing circles on her clit.

“Gonna give me a good one?”

His movements coupled with his words catalyze the tightness within her, threatening to snap at any moment. She’s definitely sweaty and tired of being on top, but she’s so close now that she wills away the pain in her lower back and thighs.

“Come on, bunny. Give it to me.”

He works with that he can and makes sure he’s slamming into her as deep as he can, speeding up the pace he’s making with her clit in the process.

She cums with a strangled, “Fuck,” and a shrill cry of his name, and that’s all he needs to meet his end as well. The world is black and quiet for the two of them for just a brief moment, and then they’re both seeing all of the stars in the galaxy.

Her walls are coated with the warm ropes of his seed and spills out of her as she milks him, coaxing all she can out of both hers and Harry’s orgasms. Y/N can feel the last few twitches of Harry’s cock inside of her and her movements slow to a stop.

His cum is splashed along her inner thighs and around Harry’s shaft, and they’re both struggling to catch their breath. Y/N feels sorry for him for a brief second when she sees him clutching onto the left side of his ribs, but then she remembers the situation that put him there in the first place and great incredible fuck she just gave him and so she decides not to dwell on it too much.

Serves him right.

She collapses on the bed beside him, the two of them staring idly at the ceiling. It’s nearly dark now, the sun having set long ago and only their silhouettes are visible in the moonlight. Harry reaches over to pet her cheek and press a kiss into her hair as their breathing slowly but surely evens out and they come to.

They’re both too tired and fucked out to have a lucid conversation, so they’ll save that for tomorrow. No. Right now was for cuddles and falling asleep to the sounds of each other’s soft breaths and the peace of mind knowing that they can do this every single night for the rest of their lives if they wanted to because they’re getting married and they have a family together and they’re so in love with each other that nothing else matters.

When Y/N finally manages to muster up the energy to lift herself from the mattress and waddle to the bathroom, Harry breaks the silence.

“Hey,” his voice is calm and collected and there’s a smirk on his face.

“Hmm?” she answers as she cranes her neck and braces herself on the door frame of the master bathroom.

Her other hand is caressing her bump, a tick that she’d picked up over the months whenever she wasn’t doing anything important.

“Sit on m’ face in the morning?”

There’s that laugh again. The one that Harry loves and swears came straight from the angels above.

“With pleasure,” she winks as the door closes behind her.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #dad!harry x reader #dad!harry styles #dad!harry #dad!harry styles x reader #dad!harry x pregnant!reader #harry styles x pregnant!reader

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mr-styles · 3 years

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The Year in Fashion: The 29 Moments We’ll Remember Most From 2020

Harry Styles Sparked a DIY Trend With a JW Anderson Sweater

TikTok exploded this year as we spent more time at home, glued to our iPhones. (In case you missed it, Vogue also launched its own TikTok, and the #MakeItVogue hashtag has 2.2 billion views so far.) When Harry Styles, arguably the most influential person of 2020, wore a loopy patchwork cardigan by JW Anderson during a rehearsal, crochet enthusiasts jumped at the chance to make their own. The #HarryStylesCardigan hashtag has 40.8 million views on the social media platform—but what makes the story extra sweet is that Anderson encouraged it by sharing the cardigan’s pattern on his website. “I quite like that we designed something that has taken on a new type of meaning, a new life,” he said. “And I think that’s important for fashion today; to be about inclusion, not exclusion.”

Harry Styles Became the First Man to Appear on Vogue Solo—and His Look Sparked a “Controversy”

We knew Harry Styles’s Vogue cover would start a conversation on the internet. We just didn’t think it would be quite so… “controversial.” In a shoot photographed by Tyler Mitchell and styled by Camilla Nickerson, Styles wears a ruffled Gucci gown, a carabiner-linked skirt by Chopova Lowena, and a hoop skirt by Harris Reed, among other looks. “There’s so much joy to be had in playing with clothes,” he told Vogue’s Hamish Bowles. “I’ve never thought too much about what it means—it just becomes this extended part of creating something.” What’s gender got to do with it? Disappointingly, the internet had different ideas, the loudest voice being Candace Owens’s. In one tweet, she called the “feminization” of men allegedly suggested by the story “an outright attack,” ending with a comically outdated statement: “Bring back manly men.”

Weeks later, Styles clapped back by posting a photo of himself eating a banana in a powder blue suit and ruffly blouse, adding an identical caption: “Bring back manly men.” We have a feeling his 34.7 million followers agree it’s time to tear down the oppressive gender binary for good.

#harry styles #articles

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gryffindors-weasley · 3 years

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Sunshine

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: After a long night, Ron surprises you the following morning with a sweet gesture.

Warnings: stress, mentions of injury, mentions of food, fluff, kissing

Word Count: 2.1k

“Have I told you that I love you today?”

“I fixed you breakfast. I know it’s just a bowl of cereal, but it’s the only thing I can’t burn.”

A/N: This is my fic for @writeroutoftime 1k writing challenge! The prompts I used above are bolded and italicized in the fic. Congratulations again, Rita, I hope you enjoy my lovely!!

(gif found on pinterest, credits to the maker)

The day began almost too soon, faint streams of sunlight peeking through the sheer curtains only to be stolen temporarily by the periodic clouds you presumed. It felt as though you had just slipped into bed, as if it was just mere seconds ago that the room was dimly lit with the moonlight and you had tucked yourself against the love of your life. It had been an extraordinarily late shift at St. Mungo’s, patient after patient walking through the door just waiting to be healed whether their injuries were significant or superficial. You were exhausted by the very end of it and in desperate need of sleep. But dawn had rolled around without a pause, and very much to your dismay.

Upon closer inspection, you frown at the empty space next to you, breathing out a sigh as you rubbed your tired eyes once more. It had been far too quiet, you knew it the moment you heard the ticking of the clock on the dresser rather than the usual snoring that was almost always muffled into your neck. You weren’t exactly thrilled about the very idea of getting out of bed, but the thought of getting any more sleep without your beau to curl into simply wasn’t feasible. So, with another huff, you left the warmth of the blankets and sheets and padded your way downstairs in search of him.

The house had been comfortingly quiet, an aura that only ever seemed to exist at that hour no matter where you were. The mismatched clocks dotting along the walls and mantle chimed once to signal it’d been half past eight, and the scent of your sweet candles wafted to you once you made it to the living room. It was clear that it’d rain sometime that day, the puffy gray clouds increasingly covering the blue sky as the breeze blew. The patchwork blankets were sprawled across the couch surely in preparation for a day spent doing very little, and you were more than fine with being unproductive.

The familiar screech of your teapot had grabbed your attention, not to mention the potent smell of coffee being brewed and you immediately found yourself following it.

A smile pulled at your lips when you walk in the kitchen, your heart fluttering in your chest at the sight of the unruly ginger bedhead. His back had been to you as he fixed his morning coffee, grabbing his favorite mug from the sage colored cabinets. Ron may have been more of a coffee person over tea sometimes, though really it’d always been more sugar and cream than anything. He even went so far as to slip in a few pieces of chocolate to melt into his drink.

He heard your footfalls, no matter how light they may have been and he was quick to turn around. The softest of smiles graces his lips as he looks at you, a blush soon to follow at the sight of his old quidditch sweater hanging from your shoulders in tattered ruffles of yellow and maroon. It was something you wordlessly decided to claim as your own, and he hadn’t minded it in the slightest. He’d felt a swell of pride in his chest whenever you wore it, but mostly he was just enamored by you.

“Hey,” He says, setting his mug down and crossing the kitchen in a few strides. His arms were quick to envelop you in his embrace, his lips finding yours in an instant. “‘Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning,” you whisper tiredly with a hum, your arms wrapping around his neck as your sleepy smile widens at the nickname. “Missed you.”

He laughed softly, his breath fanning against your lips. It wasn’t a laugh of mocking, but rather one of giddiness upon the fact that you had missed him. A deeper blush stained his freckled cheeks and he hid it with another kiss.

“Sorry to have left you alone,” he murmurs, “but I fixed you breakfast. I know it’s just a bowl of cereal, but it’s the only thing I can’t burn. It’s not the best but I know you got in late last night and I wanted to surprise you.”

He laughs timidly at his rambling, scratching the back of his neck in shy embarrassment and hopes that you’d like it. When you peer around his shoulder you spot a heaping bowl of cereal on the small kitchen table, a bit of milk puddled on the surface and a laugh leaves your lips. Your heart leaps in your chest at just how thoughtful he always is, and you were quite sure your beaming was more than obvious when you turned back to look at him.

“It’s perfect, Ron,” you murmur, hugging around his neck before leaning on your toes and pressing a grateful kiss to his flushed cheek. “I love you.”

He was quick to join you at the table, his hands wrapped around his coffee mug as he yawned sleepily. He looked impossibly cute as he kept close to the steaming mug, basking in the warmth of it as he rests his chin in his palm. His hair dipped in his eyes and no matter how often he swiped it away, it stubbornly fell right back into place to tangle with his lashes. Perhaps the cutest of all was the smile adorning his lips upon looking at you, as if you had been the only thing in the world of importance.

To him, you very much were. To be so cliche he felt you were nothing short of sunshine, always lighting up anything and everything that had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. The moment he used the nickname it just stuck, for it was very true, so how couldn’t he not?

“How was work?” He asks into his mug, a bit of the frothy cream left behind on his upper lip.

“It was as busy as always,” you sigh tiredly, swiping your thumb over his lip with a small laugh. “Malfoy and I had our hands full when a bunch of quidditch players came in.”

He snorts at that, brushing the hair out of his eyes once more. “That bad, huh?”

You nod with a mouthful, stirring your spoon in your bowl as a grin he recognizes all too well works its way onto your lips. “I was relieved when I saw you hadn’t been amongst them, you’ve really got to be more careful when you play, Ron. That one ti—”

His groan effectively cuts you off as he rubs his face. “Darling, that was one time!”

“Draco had to give you eleven stitches, Ronald. You were seething at him the entire time.” You laugh at the memory, at the heat so clearly burning crimson in his cheeks at the time. Though he bit his tongue when he’d seen just how different the blonde had been. “You’re clumsy and you know it, love.”

He grumbled into his drink in disagreement but you hadn’t missed the smile tugging at his lips. You giggle as you shake your head, and he nudged your foot with his under the table in further disapproval.

Conversation had been minimal after that, a comfortable silence falling over you as you ate your breakfast and he drank his coffee. The rain you’d suspected had been trickling down the windows then, the weather making it all the more reason to stay tucked away in each other’s arms for the entirety of the day. Not that you needed a reason to, of course. There were no plans pressing on either of you on your days off, and with work keeping you from spending any quality time together it became a silent agreement that you’d take advantage of the opportunity.

The absence in conversation was filled with fleeting gazes and brushes of fingertips. Crinkling of the morning paper and laughter as he stole a few bites of your cereal. It was filled with longer, more fond stares and rosy cheeks as he tried to bring himself to stop gawking like the lovestruck fool he very well knew he was. It was a title Harry had given him, one that the entirety of his family was in agreement with. He happily accepted it, he was madly in love with you since he was seventeen and he feels it’ll never falter, and he’s more than fine with that very fact.

When you glance over the table at him he’s got a smile on his lips as he looks out the window. You knew he’d been up to something. “What?”

You raise a brow at him and he gets up from the table, pressing a kiss to the top of your head in a wordless response. With a sigh, you watched as he disappeared out of the back patio door with eagerness and determination, and you laughed into your mug as you sipped at the rest of your tea.

You grab your empty bowl and walk over to the sink to rinse it out along with his mug, spotting the chocolate at the very bottom that hadn’t melted into his drink fully. He had the biggest sweet tooth of anyone you’d ever known, and you knew he’d surely fall asleep in your arms by the afternoon.

Moments later he returned with a lopsided grin, the now drizzling rain dampening his hair and beading across his skin. A bunch of freshly picked wildflowers were clutched in his hand, the purple and blue petals dripping with the morning rain. Your cheeks reddened at the action as you dry your hands on a nearby towel, taking the delicate flowers from his own.

“Breakfast and flowers?” You grin, your fingertips brushing over the dampened petals. The warmth filling your chest was one only Ron Weasley could manage, for he’d been the sweetest man you’d ever known. No matter how simple the gestures or gifts were, they meant everything to you all the same. “Have I told you that I love you today?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a teasing smile, his arms enveloping you in an embrace. “You may have mentioned it once, I believe.”

You tipped your head back as you laughed at his jesting, more so when you felt his lips press to the underside of your jaw. He’s very well aware of the way it makes you squirm and he will never hesitate to do so just to hear you laugh. His own giggles vibrate against your skin, his lips meeting yours in the most tender of kisses. The joined laughter settles a fraction as your hand cradles his cheek. The taste of chocolate in his kiss is something you don’t miss, the warmth of his lips setting your skin ablaze with every movement.

“I love you,” you say softly once more in the close proximity, his smile bright as you pull away to look at him.

You pluck a flower from the bunch in your hand, tucking it behind his ear. The soft blue blossom poked out beneath the ruffles of red hair, and you were sure you’d never seen a sight more adorable in your life. He takes them from your hand and sets them down on the counter, spinning back to face you and take your hand in his own.

“Ron Weasley, are we going to slow dance?” You ask, laughing softly as you grin up at him. He simply nods with a fond smile.

He pulls you close as he holds your joined hands up, his forehead resting on yours as you sway about the cozy kitchen. His hair tickled your skin and you teased him for his coffee breath, and he was quick to kiss you all the more at your playful teasing.

After a while you tuck your face into the crook of his neck, your lips ghosting over his skin in a way that caused a heat to flood his cheeks and a giddy smile to grace his lips. The rain was persistent, heavily pattering against the cozy little house you shared as you danced around the kitchen. His hand was warm in your own as he squeezed you softly, basking in the very way you were perfectly content in his arms, content to be with him. You may have stepped on his toes every now and then as you sway, but he couldn’t find it in him to care about such things.

“I love you,” he whispered, his words unwavering as he kissed the top of your head. You bring yourself to lift your head, your noses brushing as you share your moment of bliss in the quiet of your kitchen. His lips press over yours in a whisper of a kiss, “I love you.”

Amidst all the rain in the early morning hours, all Ron would ever need was you. For you were his sunshine.

—

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