A/n: This is an updated version of an imagine I’ve previously uploaded. I know Hendall is so 2015. I get it.
Masterlist linked in bio.
The red wine leaves a particular stain on Harry’s lips that he hadn’t noticed until Kendall pointed it out to him.
“It looks like you’re wearing lipstick” she laughs, “I didn’t know you were going to dress up this much for the party.”
They are currently sat at his mum’s kitchen island, drinking red wine while munching on some chips left out for the guests. The house is filled with familiar faces, friends and family all throughout London coming together for Anne’s birthday celebration.
They hosted one every year for as long as Harry could remember, a time of year where nearly every one of his family members, including his step family, would unite. It was their favorite time of year, believe it or not. Despite all the excitement for the holidays, Anne’s birthday celebration was certainly something special.
It was Kendall’s first time attending, considering the fact that Harry had only really talked to her whenever he was assigned to be with her for publicity. It wasn’t always ideal, however, he built a stable friendship with her, so he didn’t mind the extra company with him from time to time.
She was invited last minute, of course, since his management called last night to ask if there was any way for them to be seen together. With Harry’s new movie coming out and his solo album just released a couple weeks ago, it was almost a given for him to be rumored with a girlfriend. That’s how it’s worked all throughout his career.
He normally wouldn’t have minded, however, this was the worst possible date for him to be with Kendall.
Because it’s Anne’s birthday party, this means that it’ll be the first time in one year that he’ll be seeing Y/n. They have been best friends since they were five years old, basically growing up in the same house as they went through school together. But as time went on, and as they both went to their separate ways, it was hard to keep in touch with each other all the time.
She remained in the small towns of London while Harry was traveling world wide, where his name became known everywhere as Y/n’s was only known through people she attended school with. Of course, they still talked, considering they both admitted to having more than friendship feelings, but their lives were busy in their own ways, preventing them from being more than what they wanted to be.
For the past couple months, Harry planned that this would be the day he’d finally move forward with Y/n. Or, at least attempt to. With the loss of her over the past year, it made Harry realize just how much he couldn’t imagine a life without her. It had been so long—too long, and he couldn’t stand how long he’s lived without keeping in touch with her.
But now, everything he planned for the two of them is becoming impossible. He can’t begin to imagine how Y/n would feel knowing he brought Kendall to his mum’s birthday party after they both confessed their love for each other. In all honesty, he wouldn’t blame her for giving up on him. He keeps doing this to her, even if it’s unintentional.
He watches around the kitchen at the guests he hasn’t seen in quite a while. His leg bounces with impatience when each new person walking in to attend the party isn’t Y/n. It’s been nearly an hour and has never been so late to anything before.
And as horrible as it sounds, he almost wishes she doesn’t come, just so that she can avoid the heartbreak that will come when she reunites with Kendall again.
“I’m sorry I’m late!”
Harry’s head whips around when he hears the voice he’s been deprived of for the past year. The first thing he notices are her lips, and the way they move around her words so softly. They’re slightly glazed with a lipgloss, painting her lips with a rosy shade of pink. They look so much fuller to him now, but he knows not a trace of them are artificial.
His eyes only drift from the shape of her lips when her fingers reach to tuck loose pieces of hair behind her ear. It’s then he notices just how much shorter her hair has gotten. What was once so long and lank is now falling just above the shoulder, set in luscious curls he can only imagine twisting around his fingers.
His jaw goes slack when he sees the pale pink dress she’s wearing. It’s made from silk, the metallic fabric glowing with each step she takes. He gulps when he notices just how much the dress accentuates the curvature of her body and how much of her legs are put on display for him to see, and he can’t help but to wipe the sweat off his palms when he watches her greet his mother with a proper kiss on the cheek.
He notices that his eyes haven’t shut since he’s seen her, but he’s so completely intrigued by how much has changed in her. Something about her seems so much more real—so much more vibrant—and he can’t seem to stop himself from praising how time has done her so goddamn well.
“You never told me she was going to be here.“
His body jerks at Kendall’s sudden appearance, her body slowly occupying the seat next to his at the kitchen island. If it wasn’t for her, he swears he would have caught himself drooling.
“Didn’t think I had to,” he says with a shrug, “she’s been my best friend since we were five. She’s basically apart of this family, she wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”
Y/n hasn’t missed a single one of Anne’s birthday celebrations since she’s known Harry. Their bond is irreplaceable—so irreplaceable, in fact, that Anne has been convinced Y/n is a miracle for their family. She was there for them through all the troubled times; helping them through their hardships and family instabilities.
When Anne and her husband first got divorced, Harry and Y/n were seven. Harry didn’t understand much of what was happening, all he knew was that his mum and dad weren’t going to love each other anymore. He was hurting, even when Gemma was there to try and keep him together. He started to believe everything between his parents was a lie.
She understood the whole separation process. Her mum left her at a young age, leaving her alone with her father. They were close, of course, but she always missed having a mother figure in her life. It made her upset to know she could only listen to one voice in the house, but as she grew older, she accepted it more.
By the time she met Harry, he kept bringing her over to his house as the years went on. Anne was the closest she had to mother, and their bond became unbreakable by the time Y/n was a teenager. Nearly seven years of Y/n being like another member of the family, Y/n started buying Anne Mother’s Day cards.
So when Y/n watched her second family fall apart, along with Anne’s heart, and she was determined to patch them back together again. Even at her young age, she’d pick flowers from her garden and give them to Anne everyday after school. Y/n said they represented her, and how she felt being a woman with such love and beauty could die all too quickly. Harry never understood what it meant, but Y/n did, which is why she never stopped until she heard Anne laughing again.
She also started to draw pictures and write her letters, reminding her of how loved she was by everyone. As much as Anne was heartbroken during the time, she took the letters everywhere she went and kept every flower alive for as long as she possibly could. Anne would always tell Harry “That girl came into our lives for a reason, my love. She’s a special one, our little miracle, never let her go. You hear me?”
Harry didn’t understand what it truly meant to let someone go, but he did his best to do anything but that. And now, as Harry sits on his mother’s kitchen island and seeing Y/n for the first time in a year, he feels he’s done just that.
“Guess not.” Kendall mutters, taking her last sip of the red wine left in her glass. “She’s just so strange, I guess. I can barely hold a conversation with her without her making an excuse to leave.”
Kendall and Y/n never really got along, it was extremely noticeable to everyone who held a conversation with the both of them. They just don’t see things in the same light. Y/n is very outgoing and lively; an extreme extrovert that seeks adventure—and Kendall can’t stand it. She thinks Y/n does it for attention, especially because she’s remained a small town girl while being surrounded by well-known celebrities. And even though it may seem like Y/n likes the attention, that’s not her purpose. She gives all her attention to others, never to herself, and it has always been something Harry loved the most.
And when it comes to Y/n, Kendall was that one thing that was constantly in her way of Harry. No matter how many times Harry and Y/n discussed how there was something between them, Kendall always found her way back to haunt her. She was her worst goddamn nightmare. She was perfect for Harry in the public eye, and nothing made Y/n feel worse than knowing she’ll never be her type of perfect, especially when it came to Harry.
But Kendall doesn’t know that. All she knows is that Y/n is extremely stand-offish with her, and she’ll never understand why.
“She’s not used to our lives. It’s extremely difficult for her to understand how we live, you know? She’s normal.”
Kendall scoffs, eyes rolling around the room because she hates that word. She feels so divided, like she’s in a categorization in society and everything about it makes her teeth clench.
“We’re normal, too, you know. I don’t understand why she feels so intimated and feels like she has something to prove.”
Harry’s jaw clenches slightly at the negative connotes Kendall has about Y/n’s life. Something about it makes his stomach twist the wrong way, and he can’t help the underlying growl in between his words.
“We’re not normal. Deep down, you and I both know that. You also don’t know Y/n, so stop making irrational assumptions about her.”
Kendall narrows her eyes at Harry, a gaze full of confusion and disbelief at the undeniable grumble in his tone. Any rational conversation they have about Y/n always end the same—with Harry quick to end the discussion and jump to her defense. It’s times like these Kendall never understood the true extent of Harry and Y/n’s relationship. They always claimed it was platonic but there has always been a sense of something stronger in them, like unaddressed or unchased feelings, or a past they shared that was kept between the two.
Either way, it annoyed the shit out of Kendall because they both were hiding something that she’ll never be able to get answered.
“Fine, whatever.” She sighs dramatically, scooting her chair back until she has room to stand properly. “Want some more wine? Getting some.”
Harry slides his empty wine glass so that it’s in front of her, muttering a small “yeah, thanks” before she’s on her way to the counter across the room, retrieving extra wine and mingling with some of Harry’s family.
Harry sighs while his head rests at the palm of his hand, eyes gazing directly to where Y/n is standing. His lips tug up lightly when he hears her laugh from the living room, his tongue running over his bottom lip ever so slightly as he watches her mouth lift and her eyes squint shut as she catches up with one of his uncles about his grand annual weekend fishing trip.
And as his eyes stay so transfixed on the woman in the other room, he can’t help but imagine seeing that type of perfection every day for the rest of his life.
“And everyone thinks Sweet Creature is about me..”
Harry’s head snaps to Gemma’s figure leaning over the edge of the island, her elbows hitched on the counter as a small smirk plays on her lips. She found it abnormally amusing how he didn’t even acknowledge her presence until she spoke, too invested in hawking over Y/n’s every move.
Harry grumbles, but the smile from Y/n’s laughter is permanent on his lips when he does so. Gemma even notices his cheeks brighten with pink, another hint of confirmation to the words she spoke.
“Shut up, Gem.“
She puts her arms up defensively, “Hey, don’t take it out on me. I’m just making an observation.”
Harry rolls his eyes as Gemma wraps her arm around his neck, hunching over so that her lips are close to his ear and eyes are directed toward Y/n again.
“She has gotten hotter, hasn’t she?”
She has no idea. All Harry can think about is how someone already so beautiful has grown to be so perfect. Everything about her makes Harry want to get down on his knees and worship every inch of her body. He has to bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from thinking how much of a wreck he wants to make out of her.
“I don’t know how she did it. You better get her while you still have the chance, I know many, many men who want a taste of her.”
No is the first thing Harry thinks when the words leave from Gemma’s mouth. As hypocritical and selfish as it is, knowing other men have shown an interest in her makes his skin crawl. And he can’t help but feel his throat tighten at the moment Y/n realizes he had brought Kendall to this party.
“Is she—“ he can’t even finish his sentence without his jaw tightening again, hindering the rest of his question from leaving his lips.
“Oh, quit your worrying, H. She’s single, I don’t think she’d ever date someone who isn’t you. Besides, I don’t think you can do much about it with Kendall here.”
Gemma lifts a finger to where Kendall is standing, still in the same spot as she talks to his aunt Leslie. His heart hurts knowing what Y/n will feel when she finds out. He knows that there is always a part of her that feels discouraged whenever there’s a new woman in his life. In between Harry and Y/n’s love for each other was a mix of false hopes and miscommunication, and it always fucked them up whenever anything else was put in their way.
Gemma pats his shoulder before making rounds to her family and friends again, leaving Harry slumped against the counter with not a drop of wine to numb his scrambling mind.
When Y/n finishes catching up with the rest of Harry’s family, she finds that her patience is wearing thin. It’s been a year since she’s seen the love of her life, and knowing that he’s somewhere near her is enough to get her heart racing.
When she sees him sitting alone at the kitchen island, wearing his infamous pink suit and staring down at his fingers, it’s as if her body starts to malfunction. Her legs stop moving and her lips part, eyes glistening with admiration as she sees him for the first time in so long.
He’s as beautiful as ever, his new haircut accentuating his facial structure. His lips seem so much more red, too, which are complimented greatly by that goddamn suit. Everything about him radiates, like he’s developed into a whole other person. She’ll never quite grasp the idea that she’s about to reunite with him; something about it makes her palms sweat.
Harry lifts his head up to look at her in all her glory. His heart warms at her presence more than the wine did, and he can’t help but to take a breath of relief when he finally hears her voice again.
“Y/n.” He breathes out, his fingers instinctively reaching up to the ends of her cut hair.
He chokes out a laugh of admiration when he sees her this close to him. She is so much different—so much more perfect than he ever remembers her being and it takes his breath away.
His fingers twist her hair, wrapping them around the digits before letting the strands fall back in place again. He never saw her without her hair down to her waist, and now that he has, he never wants to see her hair past her shoulders again.
“It’s so beautiful” he whispers, “you look so beautiful like this, Y/n. I absolutely love it.”
She blushes, her chin tucking slightly into her neck as if trying to hide how much of a reaction he got out of her. No matter how many years she’s known him, she was never used to the way he spoke to her.
“It was spontaneous. Really wanted a change, and it looks like I’m not the only one.”
Her hands reach to his hair, which is so much shorter compared to the last time she saw him. She remembered she couldn’t keep her hands out of it last year, constantly finding ways to tangle her fingers at the ends. Harry found it hysterical, actually, and thought it was the cutest thing she’s ever done.
“It’s just so soft” she’d say, “it’s like a whole other world in there!”
But now her only option is to tangle her fingers at the roots, and as she does so, her mind drifts to all the other occasions she could have her hands in his hair again.
“It’s so much shorter. Look at that! I can barely tug on it anymore!” She laughs in amusement, her fingers slipping as she pulls too hard.
He smirks up at her, a giggle falling from his lips as he watches her utterly amused reaction. They begin to catch up with the part of their lives they both have missed. Harry talked about his album while Y/n started discussing her new journalism job.
Talking to Y/n is one of the only normal parts of him left, it always gave him a sense of grounding whenever he felt his career was taking off to heights he wasn’t ready for. She is one of the only sense of normality he has left in his life, and it’s another reason as to why he admires her so dearly. She brought out parts of him nobody else could reach, and it’s another reason why he feels so upset he’s barely talked to her.
“Y/n?” he asks hesitantly, reaching his hand over so that his fingertips graze her hand.
Her breath breaks when he touches her, the softness in his voice proving that what is about to be discussed is far more important than their previous conversation. She notices the stress lines in between his forehead and the parting of his wine stained lips when he begins to speak.
“I’m so sorry I haven’t kept in touch with you. I know how it makes me look, especially after everything that happened between us. With the new album and everything, I’ve just been so busy with—“
Harry’s head jumps to where Y/n stares dumbfounded, Kendall holding two glasses of wine in one hand while the other is carrying a plate of chicken wings. She’s looking down at Y/n, too, her eyebrows lifted up in an intimidating manner. There’s a scowl present on her lips as she continues to tower over her.
Y/n feels tears building in her eyes as she takes in the situation at hand. She was so fucking dumb to think that Harry was going to come to Anne’s party alone, especially since his new album just released. This is Kendall’s prime time appearance, when Harry needs a familiar famous face beside him to advertise his solo career.
This isn’t anything new—this isn’t anything unfamiliar, but the pain feels like a fresh wound to her heart. Harry and Y/n are nearly 24, with having known each other and felt something for each other for years, she thought that if anything were going to happen, it was going to happen now. But everything between them has remained stagnant for so long that the last sliver of hope she had for their potential relationship has been completely taken away from her. By Kendall, again.
“W—Wow, I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t know Harry had invited you.”
“Yeah,” Kendall nods, “he invited me last night.”
Y/n’s lips purse together, nodding her head as her eyes drift around the kitchen. Anything to avoid Kendall’s eyes—anything to feel as unimportant as she does now.
Harry’s eyes squeeze shut, a small hissing releasing from his tongue at how wrong it all sounds, considering absolutely nothing happened between Harry and Kendall the previous night besides being demanded that the two of them are to be seen together again.
“Right,” Y/n’s voice cracks, “well, I’m sorry to interrupt your time together. I’m going to go to Gemma’s room, got a phone call from my dad a while ago so I should go check up on him. I’ll see you guys around.”
She musters up a pathetic smile before practically running away from them. After everything they both told each other, after all the feelings they’ve had toward each other, how could Harry keep doing this to her? How could he keep being with Kendall when he says he loves Y/n?
She doesn’t even find the strength in her to hold in her tears before she approaches the steps, not daring to look back at them again. She never wants to see them in the same room again, it’ll be too much her heart can handle.
“You’ve really got to be fucking kidding me, Kendall.” Harry growls.
His hands fist around the wine glass, his knuckles turning white and he’s absolutely shocked it hasn’t shattered into pieces in his hands from all the anger pulsing through his veins.
“Jesus, Harry, neither one of you can take a joke. Does she not understand that all of this is for the press? She keeps acting like we’re a couple.”
“Could you really blame her after that? ‘He invited me last night,’ you’re really getting a kick out of making her uncomfortable, aren’t you?”
He grumbles as he takes a long sip of his wine, hoping that the alcohol loosens his muscles enough to restrain himself from doing anything he regrets. He loves his mum too much to start an argument during her birthday party, and as much as Kendall’s shifting Harry’s mood, he still appreciates her as a friend to ruin anything.
“That wasn’t even my fault, you both dug into that way too deep. Last night does not mean while we were fucking. It’s a time of day.”
“It’s the way you said it.”
“Are you being serious, Harry?”
He slams his glass down on the island, grumbling under his breath while he stands up from his chair. No matter how much anger is in him now, the only thoughts swirling in his brain are wondering if Y/n’s okay. She would have never left the party to go into a secluded room, not even if her dad called her.
“You leave her the fuck alone, Kendall. I mean it.”
He storms away from her, desperate to find Y/n because God only knows what’s really happening in that bedroom. Y/n’s emotions and feelings are always positive, always so bright, and he refuses to be the reason they turn upside down. She doesn’t deserve all he keeps doing to her, she doesn’t deserve him.
When Harry nearly swings himself onto the first step, he can already hear the soft murmur of Y/n’s and Anne’s voice, which makes him stop from approaching them any more than he has already.
“Y/n? Y/n, darling?” Anne asks with worry when she sees Y/n climbing up the top step with tears in her eyes, soft cries falling from her throat as her hand attempts to silence them.
She reaches an arm out for her, tugging at the front of Y/n’s dress slightly to get her attention. She’s grateful it was Anne who found her this way instead of any other guest at the party, considering nobody besides her and Harry have seen her with a frown on her face.
“Y/n, baby, what’s going on with you?”
The lights are off in the hallway, with no guests permitted in the area, which gives Y/n the proper time to fully allow her tears to fall down her cheeks.
“I’m so s—sorry, Anne.” Y/n cries.
Anne’s hands rub her shoulders, reassuring her that there’s absolutely nothing for her to apologize for. It also lets her know that she’s willing to listen to her, no matter where or when—she’ll always be there.
“I’m almost 24, Anne, and I’ve put so much of my life on hold for him.”
She knows instantly who Y/n’s talking about. It wasn’t difficult to notice the undying connection between Y/n and her son, especially as the years went on. They have grown so strongly together, there has never been a doubt in Anne’s mind that Y/n is going to be the girl Harry ends up marrying. Everyone in the family called it a destiny waiting to happen, but it has been so long since anything has happened between them, and Anne can’t help but feel heartbroken to know Y/n’s carrying the wrong idea about him and Kendall.
“And I’ve sacrificed so m—much to continue waiting for him, but I don’t think I can keep doing this anymore. We’re nowhere near where we should be, especially when he keeps spending time with Kendall and I just—I just don’t know if I can—“
“Oh, my darling.” Anne sighs, cradling Y/n’s head against her shoulder as she rubs down her back.
She shushes her through her tears, rocking her slightly in an attempt to calm her from her cries. It’s extremely rare for Y/n to feel upset, so when she does so, Anne knows she deserves all the comfort and love she can get.
“I know you so well, and I know my son. I always knew you were a match made in heaven, my dear. I knew from the start you were more than just an ordinary girl. You’re so special, to everyone in our family, but especially to him. He may not have his head screwed on right most of the time, but if I can promise you anything with all my heart, it’s that he loves you. Please, no matter what, never forget that.”
Y/n nods against her shoulder, thanking her through her violent cries before Anne insists she takes some time to herself. And as much as Y/n wanted to refrain from going into Harry’s bedroom, it’ll be the only place that brings her a sense of comfort.
Harry already knows he’s in for a lecture the second he sees his mum coming down the stairs with bewildered eyes. She grips his shoulders, her face tight with frustration.
“You go over to her and you be the man I taught you to be, Harry.”
Harry’s eyes widen at her words, swallowing thickly at the thought of disappointing another person in his life.
“She loves you and you love her. Stop doing favors for other people and start thinking about you before you ruin both of your lives forever. You hear me?”
Harry nods feverishly, determined and more motivated than ever to fix all that he’s caused. Love comes first, always, and he needs to remember that before he breaks Y/n’s heart completely.
She’s it. She’s all that matters to him.
He barely responds to Anne before he’s racing to his old bedroom, completely clueless as to what he’s going to say, but willing to do anything to get her back.
“Y/n?” Harry calls through the door of his old bedroom. “Y/n, can I come in?”
He knocks on the door lightly, just using the knuckles of his pointer and middle finger. He hears her feet pad over to the door, opening it to reveal her tear stained cheeks. Her hands are trembling against the knob, her breath broken with soft, gentle cries. Her eyes are widened with sadness, wet and red from tears she barely ever cries.
“Y/n.” He whimpers, tentatively reaching his shaking fingers up to her cheeks. He wipes away the tears from the bottoms of her eyes, sighing upsettingly as her eyes close at his touch. “Never seen you like this. Please talk to me.”
Her lips quiver as another sob rips through her, her hand reaching up to capture his between her fingers. Her saddened and wet eyes looking down at the intertwined hands now resting against her lap.
“I’m so tired, H.” She whimpers, “So tired.”
His lips press against her forehead, “I know, love. I know.”
She wraps her arms around him, her face burying in between his chest as he lets her tears soak in his undershirt.
“I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I’d finally be alone with you after all this time. I missed being close to you, I wanted to be closer to you and I thought you felt the same about me and I didn’t understand, Harry, I didn’t get it and—“
“Hey, relax for me.” Harry mumbles, his lips grazing tenderly along her cheek.
She takes a deep breath, her fingers fisting the back of his suit tighter in her fists. She rests her chin on the top of his chest, tears still roaming down her face as she lets out an exasperated sigh. Her fingertips trace patterns on his back, her eyes fluttering closed as he pushes some of her hair off of her face, refraining them from sticking to her wet cheeks.
“I didn’t get it,” she whispers, “I was so confused, and when you didn’t answer my calls or texts I thought you didn’t find me important. And I was under no right to be upset about it, because you’re busy and you have priorities. But when I saw you today, I didn’t see you as the Harry I always have, I still can’t tell you what I saw but I wanted every part of you more than I ever have before. But when I saw Kendall I—“
Her cries and words die down when she feels Harry’s tender lips against hers. She’s taken aback at first, and before she has any time to really kiss him back, he’s already pulled away.
“Let me fix this.” He breathes out, “let show you that I only want you.”
His lips press against the side of her mouth, not allowing himself to kiss her the way he wants to until she lets him. They then begin to travel down her neck, along her jaw, around her mouth.
Y/n’s breath is stiff as he does so, embracing the feeling of his mouth against her skin. They’ve only ever kissed a handful of times, none of them being passionate or loving. They’ve shared pecks while saying goodbyes or after confessing their feelings, but none quite like this—none quite like the one anticipating to happen.
His breathing his hard when he continues to kiss along her skin, his fingers moving longly in her hair the more his mouth presses against her.
“Will you let me?” He whispers when his lips are ghosting over hers, “this okay?”
She nods feverishly, hitting the point of desperation when she feels his breath fan over the skin of her face. She’s been needing this for far too long now.
His thumb runs over her bottom lip one, two, three times before he finally leans in. Their lips mush together passionately, only breaking apart to move their position before locking again. Their tongues meet in the middle, making the both of them moan at the unfamiliar spark coursing through their veins.
Harry walks toward his bed until Y/n’s knees hit the edge of it, making her back meet the mattress. Their lips haven’t detached once, not daring to break away from the feeling they’ve both been deprived of.
They’re both making out on Harry’s childhood bed, grinding onto each other half naked like two hormonal teenagers. Their clothes thrown across the room, lips swollen from all the suction and nibbling, and hair completely knotted from either of their fingertips, the party below them long forgotten.
“Wait, wait wait wait!” Y/n gasps, lifting herself off of his chest.
Harry’s chest rises and falls rapidly, trying to catch his breath as he looks up at Y/n in confusion. He watches as a smirk lifts from her lips as she peers down at his flushed face, giggling slightly at his complete fucked out appearance.
She notices that his lips remained stained from the red wine—a little faded—but still making her body weak at the sight of it.
“’s the matter?” He croaks.
His voice is thick—an entirely different level of raspy, and Y/n wonders how she’s lived so long without hearing him speak in that way. Between all the kissing, all the touching, all the moaning, his voice has a particular roughness to it that Y/n could feed off of if she had to.
“We shouldn’t do this, right? I mean, we’re about to fuck during your mum’s birthday party. Your entire family and Kendall are downstairs, anybody could walk in at any second, or hear us, and your mum could find that so disrespectful and—“
Her rambling is interrupted by his lips, meeting hers passionately between her words.
There is no way in hell he’s leaving this room tonight. Everything that’s been stagnant between them is finally moving in the right direction, and he can’t find it anywhere in him to walk away from it.
“You think I’m letting you go now?” He whispers, his thumb running along her bottom lip. “I have been waiting for this moment with you since high school, sweetheart.”
His lips reattach to her neck, sucking on spots he hasn’t already left marks on, soaking up every bit of the time he has with her before it’s over. This is the first time they’re going to make love, and he wants to feel and remember every bit of this moment.
“B—But your mum—“ She moans, her fingers nearly tangling at the ends of his hair as she hisses in pleasure from his tongue.
“Every single person downstairs knows about us. This—this happening right now, has been expected to happen since I first brought you home. I guarantee you, nothing will make her more happy than knowing her son and his future wife are finally acting on our feelings instead of pushing them to the side again.”
His words make Y/n blush like no other; her cheeks turning the shade of pink on her dress she wore previously. It’s then he notices just hot fucking pretty she is in pink, how every tint of the color compliments her in ways he can barely wrap his head around.
“Future wife, hm?” She smirks, tapping the pads of her fingers against his bare collarbones.
He kisses her again.
“Thought you knew that, love. Wouldn’t know a single soul I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” His fingers dig into her hips, “’s always been you.“
Y/n pushes Harry’s back against the mattress again, trailing her fingers down his torso. She giggles when his teeth clench at her touch, finding it almost irresistible to embrace the way he responds to her touch so easily.
andreil pda around the foxes pleaseee my soul needs it
my marvelous anon, i am here to grant thine request, with a small side of accidental lowkey renison. enjoy <3. also on AO3.
He did it. He actually did it. After months of constant warnings and threats, Wymack finally followed through.
Neil can do nothing but stare at the flyer in his hand, mildly in fear and majorly in shock. A mere thirty seconds prior, Wymack had stormed out of his office brandishing this piece of paper like both a white flag and a declaration of war. He had paused just inside the lounge, making sure to gather everyone’s attention, before striding over to Neil and shoving the flyer in his face.
“This is for last weekend,” Wymack had said. “I already—don’t give me that look, you know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. I already signed you up. It starts at 8:00 AM on Saturday, and unless you want your ass glued to the bench for the rest of the season, I suggest you be there.” He had then turned back around and disappeared into the hallway, leaving a room full of confused and curious Foxes in his wake.
A full minute passes before chaos breaks out and everyone starts moving at once. Various forms of “What the hell?” can be heard from all corners of the room. Neil blinks as the flyer is yanked out of his hand. He looks up to see Andrew, his eyes scanning the paper. Andrew looks up at him, and Neil’s heart nearly explodes because this look on his face, it looks like the honest-to-god beginnings of a smile. And sure, it’s at Neil’s expense, but he would embarrass the fuck out of himself at every turn if this was his reward. Andrew moves to hand the paper back to Neil.
“Okay, seriously,” Kevin huffs out with impatience as he pushes through his teammates. He snags the flyer away from Andrew who couldn’t be bothered to stop him. Kevin reads aloud, “The Annual Hilton Head Island Marathon…a MARATHON? Really, Neil?! Is this a joke?”
“I don’t know, Kevin,” says Andrew, his voice taking on the persona of a kindergarten teacher. “Did it look like a joke to you?”
Kevin’s only response is to scowl and shove the flyer into Neil’s chest. “This better not affect your performance at our game on Friday. You don’t get to take it easy just because you have to run 26.2 miles the next day.”
By the time Kevin has stormed out of the building, the rest of the Foxes have commenced their team wide freak out.
“Seriously?! He actually came through on that threat?” Dan is caught halfway between being genuinely worried and dying of laughter.
“Neil…bro…what the fuck…” Matt says from somewhere on his left, placing a consoling hand lightly on his shoulder.
“Oh my god, Neil. We have to be there. I have to witness this historic moment. You finally get to put your insane running habits into practice,” Allison is rambling from across the room.
“Wait, what was Wymack talking about ‘last weekend’? What did you do?” Asks Nicky, unaccustomed to being out of the loop.
on that note i should add that i finished watching korra and overall i loved it. i love politically driven stories so it was totally my thing.
honestly the entire show could’ve just been season 1 and i would have been totally satisfied. it would have been great just as a stand alone imo. season 2 was….not very good. it explained some lore and that shouldve been ¼th the length it actually was, the ending was just silly…attack of the 50 foot woman
3 and 4 felt like one megaseason. i loved the worldbuilding and extensive cast added in the second half of the show. the final battle could have maybe been a bit more ‘grande’, but i was still satisfied with what we got. overall the plot past season 1 was somewhat predictable but the characters compensate for it well
HOLY HELL, I LOVED THE CAST?? and so many women of all age/ethnicity/class together was so refreshing and so good??? i especially loved the beifong family dynamic. the male cast was great too, i did find the ongoing theme of male villains having strongly drawn jowls amusing., oh and that one airbender child was very grating i hated him.
the love triangle was jarring but at least it was a step above twilight’s, which is honestly what i was expecting going in. i thought it was gonna be both brothers competing for korra lmao but instead it was just mako consistently fucking up. so yeah i could live with it, it could be something to sympathize with if you were a young teen watching and have a mind full of confused feelings and drama like most teens do.. its pretty harmless and if anything it shows a good example of talking things out with an ex, the value of communicating in a relationship, and moving on from drama.
my favourite characters by the end were asami and kuvira, the latter i wish was set up a bit more in the 3rd season so we could have had bigger build up and character arc but oh well.
throughout the entire show my mind kept comparing it to fullmetal alchemist brotherhood.. did anybody else have that?? the political theme, time period, and the backgrounds, especially all the industrial stuff were reminiscent to me of fmab in a good way. by the end of it my roommate and i called korra a “combination of fmab and kung fu panda”, basically replace the science of alchemy with spirituality and martial arts and i think that description fits it sort of well
so yeah in conclusion i loved korra, its really good. it honestly tells a story of political movements and regimes much better than many ‘more dark’ live action movies and young adult dystopias. if you love politic themes, elements of fantasy, strange animals, female characters, and have a lot of hours to kill i recommend watching korra if you still haven’t.
if Hamilton had come out during the Glee Era, this is what the episode basically would be
- Opening scene: ND in the classroom talking among themselves. Schue walks in wearing full period costume. Everyone is confused and a little ashamed. Schue tells them he’s discovered they’re all failing history, and one of them tells him history is just SO BORING.
- cut to a scene of somehow all the kids in the same class in various stages of unconsciousness while a Professor Binns type teacher drones on about the war of 1812.
- Schue assures them history is TOTALLY COOL, informs them about Hamilton, tries to white rap his way through either Guns and Ships or Yorktown. Santana makes that “why am I surrounded by white fools” face that she always makes. Hamilton is the assignment this week, even though COMPETITION looms in the future, but when have they ever actually practiced before the week of?
- Blaine has been super friendly with some guy from Dalton or from Hairgellers Anonymous or something, is constantly liking his posts on FB. Kurt sings “Burn” over a montage of Blaine ignoring him in ridiculous situations that no one would ever be on their phone during.
- Rachel has decided this week is one of the weeks where she’s aggressive about becoming a star, sings Satisfied.
- Tensions are getting high, so Artie flawlessly white boy raps through “What’d I Miss” while Mike dances, to lighten the mood.
- The kids are learning about Hamilton, but Schue is worried they’re not REALLY learning the point he’s trying to get at.
- Probably the Unholy Trinity sings “Schuyler Sisters”
- Schue walks back in on the kids excitedly talking about the show and/or history in general. Smiles that smile he smiles when he thinks he’s a good teacher. “See you guys? History is now. You’re the founding fathers. You’re the underdogs. Your time is coming, you just have to wait for it.”
- New Directions: YEAH!
- The group sings “Wait for It” in the auditorium either in full costume, or wearing just vaguely matching outfits. Finn takes lead, but Mercedes comes in on the middle solo.
- They all smile at each other at the end, while Schue makes that face again.
- Sue is in the background glowering that ND has managed to not fall apart yet again.
imagine a scenario where Todoroki isn’t completely passed out from Bakugou’s attack, where he’s still awake–but just barely. He can see Bakugou’s blurry figure stomp over to him through the clouds of dust, screaming. And suddenly, he’s being lifted by his shirt.
Imagine Bakugou lifts Todoroki to yell at him, screams at him–how DARE he do this? How DARE that two-faced bastard do this to him, a win like this means NOTHING. It’s worse than losing, because he didn’t win at all, it’s nothing but a hollow shell of a victory, only won because his opponent refused to go all out on him.
this isn’t what Bakugou wanted. This isn’t what he wanted at all. he wanted to prove himself, to defeat Two-Face with his own power, with his own skill, not–not this. Not a victory where fucking Two-Face just…. gives up. Refused to fight him. Didn’t see him as worthy to fight…
Wasn’t he strong enough? What the fuck. Why. Why couldn’t Todoroki just fight him all out, use his goddamn flames like he did with Deku, always Deku, why not him, goddammit, why, why, why–
Todoroki squints through the dust, trying to focus on the face in front of him. His eyes widen–it’s Bakugou, of course it is, who else yells like him? But it’s not the yelling that’s a surprise, it’s the expression. Bakugou’s face is screwed up, red and angry… and his cheeks are wet with tears.
Bakugou continues to rant and yell at Todoroki, but it all sounds like white noise. All he can see are the tears running down Bakugou’s face, the quivering lips, the shaking eyebrows that are tilted together in an arc that looks less like anger, and more like desperate frustration.
Some of the tears fall on Todoroki’s chest. He doesn’t notice.
“ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME, YOU BASTARD?!” Bakugou shrieks, voice cracking in the middle, shaking Todoroki from his thoughts both literally and physically. Bakugou is huffing and crying and glaring wet red eyes at him, waiting for an answer.
Todoroki feels something heavy in his chest. he’s not sure what it is. He’s just so full of confusing emotions–after his fight with Midoriya, after forgetting for just those few moments, after using his fire side for the first time, after remembering why he wanted to become a hero in the first place… after everything.
It’s been an emotionally exhausting day. He’s confused. Conflicted. He doesn’t really know what to do.
He’s never been very good at understanding others. Apparently he was never very good at understanding himself, either. At least until someone made him remember. Until Midoriya made him remember.
But right now, Bakugou is right here, right in his face, sobbing, and Todoroki feels like he owes him an answer. He’s not sure what to say.
What would a hero do?
Todoroki locks tired eyes with Bakugou. He tenses, baring his teeth.
Todoroki parts his lips.
“Are you alri…”
The words never get out, as a sweet smelling mist drapes over them like a soft blanket. Within seconds, Bakugou’s grip on Todoroki’s shirt loosens and both boys collapse, out cold.
The next time Todoroki sees Bakugou, he’s chained against a pillar, raging like a madman, howling as loudly as he can with a muzzle strapped to his face, and glaring daggers at anything and everything.
There are no tears to be found.
Did he imagine it? Todoroki looks down at his palm and curls his fingers.
He’s still confused. Still conflicted. All Might helped him a little… he just needed time to sort things out. Needed time to look at himself… remember why he wanted to be a hero. He… he needed to see his mother again.
(When was the last time he had a hug?)
(… When was the last time he hugged her?)
When All Might turns to Bakugou and removes the muzzle, Todoroki watches quietly from the corner of his eye.
Bakugou rages. He yells. He screams and shouts and refuses the medal All Might so valiantly tries to hang around his neck, fighting against it like a man fighting a noose.
“EVEN IF SOCIETY ACKNOWLEDGES IT, IF I DON’T THEN IT’S TRASH!!!”
The medal is hangs in between clenched teeth, and Todoroki decides that no, he didn’t imagine it. Even if he didn’t quiet understand, still doesn’t, those tears were real. He looks down at his clenched fist.
I’m sorry, Bakugou. He thinks.
There isn’t anything he can do here. He couldn’t give Bakugou the fight he wanted. He…
Todoroki looked up at the sky.
He’s going to see his mother tomorrow.
(so i wanted to write a scenario where Todoroki actually saw Bakugou crying before Midnight’s made him pass out, and it kinda became this, oops)
Request: I was wondering if you could do a Bucky x reader where Bucky notices that she gets upset whenever anyone mentions babies when she used to love the topic before and he finds out that she was recently diagnosed with infertility? If it’s too complicated or you don’t feel comfortable writing it, I understand! Thank you either way! ❤ - @blazeshira
Bucky Barnes X Reader
Word Count: 1492
Warnings: Talk of infertility, brief mention of sexual activity, it’s angsty and fluffy?
A/N: Hello! I know this isn’t exactly the exact same as the request, but it was what I was able to create, so I hope it’s alright!! xo
Movement. Impossible, jarring. There is a door that is a world, opening from the other side. There is no door that does not open both ways, but not all are meant to.
“Wow! You’re very neat you know and! you have a jaysome smile!” The boy grins. “My name is Jay! What’s yours?”
“I am the called by many names I am the world, I am the universe, I am god, I am truth, I am all, I am one. I am – not you? What is this? You are not an alchemist?”
“I don’t think so? I’m really jaysome with bindings though!”
“… you changed the door. That is – no transmutation can – what are you?”
“Wow! You’re not longer smiling at all, and Truth is a weird name and –.” The boy blinks. “Uhm! I didn’t mean to make you scared, but you’re trying to unbind me and I’m tough like a Jay and …. I know!”
The boy is gone. There is white, and this time the door that opens has a name on it. The name is simple, only not at all. Just as Truth is less and more than any name. The boy returns. Older. Sixteen. His Truth, that he is sixteen, and this is known. Solid. Real.
“…. ah. Hello?” he says.
“What are you?” Truth demands. “You are nothing of an alchemist!”
“No. Your alchemy is – an exchange of bindings? Being me is giving them, and nothing more. When I’m at my best, of course.” His smile at sixteen is not the same as the boy at eleven. Not as impossible. “I doubt I meant to come here, but being eleven and jaysome means having many, many adventures. And also dragging me in from my own future to solve problems, at it turns out. Or at least apologize.”
“Jay is very good at making friends. You are – not the kind of entity that does such things. I could free you from these bindings, if you desire it?”
“You think Truth can be other than Truth?”
“I can, sometimes, not be jaysome. You don’t have to answer. Not today, not ever. But if you get tired. Of being a gate, of being a door, a world, a universe, I can help with that.”
Jay turns, and vanished. Truth waits. The younger Jay does not return.
This is not a relief. It is not anything at all.
The next alchemist that arrives, daring so much, is almost a relief.
And I can see him taking Yuri out on a date one day. Yuri thinks its just a fun, little, outing- they get lunch together, take a walk through the park– but then Viktor suggests shopping!
Yuri agrees because ‘window shopping is fun!’
He’s horrified by the prices of everything, in all the stores they stop in.
Yuri is so glad that they’re only window shopping, because who even has enough money to spend $500 on a bracelet.
Despite that, Viktor casually has Yuri point out things he likes. Viktor even has Yuri try on some clothes or jewelry “just for fun”.
Yuri does and the two of them have a good rest of the day messing around, trying out $2,000 sunglasses, $100 shirts, $200 shoes, etc.
The next day, Yuri wakes up to his room, full of wrapped presents.
Hes confused and like wtf but Viktor pokes his head in the room when he hears Yuri stirring around and is like. “OPEN! Open everything! (^♡^)”
And Yuri does. And hes so shocked and surprised and taken aback because every gift he opens is one of the things he pointed out to Viktor yesterday. Viktor made sure he didn’t miss out on anything.
Yuri is literally brought to tears because Viktor just spent a FORTUNE on him. Yuri insists Viktor bring it back to the stores because its way too much money.
Viktor laughs gently and holds his crying boyfriend, wiping his tears.
“But aren’t you happy, Yuri?”
“I am but–”
And Viktor kisses Yuri’s lips gently.
“Then that’s all that matters. There’s no price to your happiness ♡”
And Yuri just is so appreciative and happy and feeling so spoiled.
Viktor is just cuddling him and cooing sweet nothings.
Can I pretty pretty please see a feverishly delusional Lance stuck in bed and missing breakfast? Then Keith going down to check on him and Lance just groggily looking up at him and saying things like "You're really pretty, Keith." "Is bang you in a heartbeat if you'd let me." And when the others come in, Keith just turns to them in fear and says, "Oh my god, he's lost his mind."
Words cannot express how much I love this prompt.
When the his alarm goes off in the morning, Lance feels unusually tired and sluggish. Opening his eyes is difficult; his eyelids feel like they’ve been weighed down with stones. Eventually he manages to pry his eyes open and reach over to turn off his alarm. Every movement is slow and clumsy-the world feels like it’s moving in slow motion.
Now that he’s a little more aware, Lance realizes that something must be wrong with the heating system on the ship. It’s the only explanation for why his skin feels like it’s on fire, and his hair is plastered to his skin with sweat. Groaning, Lance reaches down, feeling around with his fingertips for the edge of the blanket and tossing it off of him. The instant rush of cool he feels allows him to breathe a sigh of relief.
The blanket ends up in a heap on the floor, but Lance is willing to clean it up later if it means that he doesn’t have to boil alive. Speaking of getting up, he should probably head to breakfast now. Slowly, carefully he levers himself into a sitting position, pausing for a moment to let his spinning head and churning stomach settle.
Pushing himself to his feet proves to be his undoing. Lance wobbles for a moment, briefly hopeful that he’s going to make it, before he’s overcome with dizziness and falls back onto the bed. He curls into a tight ball, trying to stop the room from spinning and his head from pounding. He’ll be fine-he just needs a few minutes. It’s probably just low blood sugar or something like that, and it’ll clear up as soon as he has breakfast.
He doesn’t even notice when he falls asleep.
Keith scowls as he stands outside the door to Lance’s room. Of course the slacker is running late. The others had been worried when Lance hadn’t showed up at breakfast, but Keith had just rolled his eyes, figuring that the blue palladin had just overslept. He’d volunteered to go fetch Lance-not because he was worried, but so he could give him a lecture for being lazy.
“Lance?” Keith calls, knocking on the door again. Still no answer. Grumbling under his breath, Keith decides to just open the door and go in. If Lance wanted privacy, he would show up on time.
He shoves the door open, calling Lance’s name again and sighing heavily. This is not how he wanted to spend his morning.
He stops in his tracks when he spots Lance. The blue palladin is sprawled out on his bed, a deep red fever blush painting his cheeks. The rest of his face is deathly pale.
Keith curses, kneeling by the bed. He shakes Lance’s shoulders gently. “Lance? Are you okay?” He presses a hand to Lance’s cheeks and forehead, wincing at the heat that he finds.
Lance slowly cracks his eyes open. “Heya Keith,” he slurs tiredly. His eyes are glassy and dazed.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” Keith says in relief. “Listen, you’re running a really high fever. We need to get you to the medical bay.”
Lance doesn’t seem to be listening, just shoots Keith a crooked smile. “You’re really pretty, Keith. Especially when you’re worried.”
“What?” is all that Keith manages to sputter out. But Lance isn’t done yet.
“I’d bang you in a heartbeat if you’d let me,” Lance says seriously, letting his eyes fall closed again.
Keith can’t even come up with any words to respond. He’s pretty sure that his brain has short-circuited.
After Keith has been gone for quite a while, with no sign of either the blue or red palladins, Pidge gets impatient. “What is taking those boys so long?” she asks irritably, standing up. “I’m going to go see what they’re up to.”
Hunk and Shiro voice their concerns as well, and the three of them make their way over to Lance’s room, where Keith had been going before. Finding the door open, they peek in.
It’s certainly an odd scene: Lance is lying on the bed, looking deathly ill, while a dazed-looking Keith crouches next to him.
“Keith? What’s going on?” Shiro asks tentatively.
Keith turns to face them, his face full of confusion. “Oh my god, he’s lost his mind,” he whispers hoarsely. “He’s saying the strangest things.”
Arranged marriage. That was the most awkward, annoying and
trashy thing that could’ve happened in your life. Marry with a guy who doesn’t
love you? With a guy who doesn’t care about you? Shit. Of course, you couldn’t
deny your own cultural traditions, but it didn’t mean you were happy about
Kim Taehyung was your husband for 6 months
now. Yeah he was completely gorgeous, hot and stuff but he couldn’t be less worried
about you. And that sucked. You just wanted attention. Was that ask too much to
have a little of caressing from your husband? It was pretty clear he didn’t
The sex was completely robotic. No emotions,
no feelings, no cuddling after. Actually you had never come.
“We are gonna be late, Y/N!”
Taehyung screamed at you. You were finishing your make up. You both were going
to a party, and you were fucking excited. You would finally have some fun. You
wore a black, lacy dress that did draw your curves. You smiled to yourself when
you caught Taehyung’s eyes wide when he saw you.
Once there, you and Taehyung get away from
each other, going to talk to your own friends. It was common. You never spend
time together at parties.
“Oh my god, Y/N, you look
amazing!” your friend greeted you.
“Thank you! So do yours” you
hugged her. You loved her.
drinks after; you started talking about your marriage.
"It sucks. I’m not happy. I’m not
fucking happy" you said, “I want a man. I want a man to show me I’m his;
I want a man to fucking claim. But Taehyung?” you laughed, “Taehyung
does not give a fuck”. Yeah, the alcohol had already gotten you.
“Well, you can always find some fun,
Y/N…” she whispered.
"W-what do ya mean?“ you gasped,
the drink burning your throat.
"Well, if what you’ve told me is true,
then he doesn’t love you, Y/N. Or at least he doesn’t care enough to show you
he does. I’m sorry, but it’s what it’s. However, you can always…you know…
Find some fun. Look around. There are a lot of men here. Beautiful, hot
men” she said.
She meant… cheating? No! No way.
You were not this kind of girl. You would never cheat your husband, no matter
how shity he was. However, she was right. There were a lot of men there. Attractive men.
"I don’t think so. I’m not cheating my
husband, Y/F/N" you said.
"Ok ok. No cheating. But you can flirt.
Flirt is just a… a healthy conversation, you know".
Yeah, she was… kinda right. You could just
flirt around, for fun. Not to fuck. You looked around, searching for someone
who you could be interested in. A few seconds later your gaze caught someone
else’s. You looked away quickly, and occasionally looked back, and he was still
staring at you.
He was really, really beautiful. His suit was fitting him so perfectly. You
could see his muscles. His gray hair pulled back… fuck.
“Go talk to him” your friend’s
voice pulled you from your reverie, noticing you found someone.
“What? No” you said harshly.
She rolled her eyes at you, “for god
sakes dude have some fun”
“No. Oh god, what am I supposed to do
if he comes to talk to me?” You said suddenly worried.
"I dunno, but you better think quickly,
because he is coming. I need to go to the bathroom" she said and turned
around to leave.
"No, fuck, wait" you tried to pull
her back but it was too late.
fuck fuck. How
could she. For god sakes, your husband was there!
"Hey lady" a soft voice called you
from behind, and then you felt a body beside yours. No. You looked at the
beautiful guy beside you. Fuck he was prettier when he was close.
“H-hey” you answered hesitantly.
“I’m Park Jimin. I’m the host of this
party. And you are…?” he asked as he gave you his hand, his gaze locked
You greeted him back, smiling shyly.
"I’m Y/N. I, hum… I’m an invited’s
invited. I don’t think we know each other" you said. He smiled at you.
"Of course we don’t. I would remember
you if we did"
Your cheeks got red as his words left his soft, pink lips.
“Well, can I offer you a special
drink?” he asked politely.
around, looking for Taehyung. He was far away from being paying attention in
“Mr. Styles this is Mrs. Thatcher from your daughter’s daycare. How are you doing this afternoon?” You looked over at Harry as he put the call on speaker in the car. You knew by Harry’s face that he wasn’t expecting this call at all.
“Hi Mrs. Thatcher, is everything okay?” You knew by his tone that he was about to panic, and the fact he ignored her question about how he was doing was an obvious sign he was distraught.
“Yes your daughter is perfectly fine!” Her words instantly made Harry relax as he turned down the street your house was on. “But there have been a few incidents we thought you should be aware of.” You gave Harry a shrug when he turned and looked at you as if you knew what she was talking about.
“Uhm what incidents? Her teacher hasn’t told us about anything.” His tone was full of confusion because he was right, Delilah’s teacher hadn’t given the two of you the slightest notion that she had been doing anything wrong in class.
“Well Mr. Styles this is actually why I called you instead of your wife.” He rolled his eyes as you gave him a playful smirk as you reached for your water bottle in the cup holder. “It has to do with one of your songs.” You nearly choked on your water causing it to spill all down your shirt when her words hit your ears while Harry had to hide his laughter as he rolled the car into your driveway. You rolled your eyes as he wiggled his eyebrows at you when he saw water drip down your shirt and onto your shorts.
“One of my songs?” He asked as he put the car in park and looked around for some napkins to help you dry yourself off.
“Yes, she has been going around saying lyrics from one of your songs to her classmates.” The woman’s voice brought his focus back to the conversation instead of him digging in the glovebox for napkins. Harry snapped his head towards the entertainment center where he could see the name of the his daughter’s school on the screen.
“What song?” He looked at you with a confused look as you just gave him a shrug. You tried to remember what song off his album was her favorite at the moment and how that could in anyway get her in trouble. Harry gave you a weird look as your eyes went wide with the realization of the song she was probably going around singing.
“It’s called Kiwi?” It came out more like a question as if Mrs. Thatcher wasn’t sure if that really was the songs title or not. You had to cover your mouth with you hand as you tried to fight back the laugh. Harry’s cheeks went red as he pictured his five year old daughter running around screaming the lyrics to one of his more racy songs around a classroom full of little kids. “She keeps telling her classmates that they are going home to a cactus?” Harry had to hold back his laughter.
“Ah uhm yeah, that’s a line from the song.” His voice was apologetic and you just reached over and gave his thigh a pat.
“Also she’s been screaming the phrase it’s none of my business, she’s just showing a lot of aggression and we are a bit concerned where all this is coming from.” You gave Harry’s thigh a squeeze as you watched his ears turn red from embarrassment. He was twisting his hands together something that you knew he only did when he was nervous.
“Well it’s a bit of a rock n roll type song so she is just saying it in the tone that I sing it in. I am terribly sorry she is repeating lyrics from that song.” He gave you a small smile as he rubbed the top of your hand that was on his leg. “Her mother and I will have a talk with her when she gets home from school today.” He added and you gave him an approving nod.
“Thank you for your time Mr. Styles, I am sure this is just a phase. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.” With that Harry said a quick goodbye before ending the call. He turned his body so he was facing you and that’s when you finally let out all the laughter you were holding inside while he was on the phone.
“What are we gonna do with that daughter of ours?” He asked between fits of laughter, you just leaned over and gave his cheek a quick peck.
A few hours later you were entering the house with your five year old slowly walking behind you with her head hanging low. You had told her on the drive home that you were going to talk with her before dinner and she instantly started apologizing for things she thought were the reason you needed to have a talk with her.
“Hi my little love.” Harry’s voice was soft and sweet as you helped Delilah take off her backpack and hang it by the front door. She instantly perked up as she heard his voice coming from the kitchen. “Come help me with dinner yeah?” His head popped out from the doorway of the kitchen and he gave you a wink as Delilah took off towards him.
“Have a good day at school?” You asked her as you made your way into the kitchen to see what the two of them were up too. You smiled as you saw Harry standing in front of the stove while Delilah was standing beside him on her step stool handing him potatoes to drop into the boiling water.
“It was okay, my teacher gave me a star for using my manners at lunch time!” Her tiny voice was full of pride as she turned her head and gave you a big smile. Harry turned and looked at you giving you a small pout and you just gave him a stern look so he would get on with the conversation the two of you knew you had to have with her.
“That’s so good petal!” Harry’s voice was sweet and she looked up at him giving him a smile that caused her dimple to show. He leaned down and placed a kiss to the top of her head that was covered in soft brown curls.
“Well speaking of teachers we got a call from your school today.” You watched Delilah’s hands stop moving as you spoke, you leaned onto the counter and snatched a carrot off the cutting board in front of you. “Didn’t we Harry?” You added and Harry just nodded and you tossed the carrot at the back of his head causing him to flinch and Delilah to laugh. He snapped his head in your direction and you motioned to your daughter with your hands while mouthing “get on with it” causing him to just roll his eyes at you before going back to his pot on the stove.
“Mum isn’t bein very nice today.” You heard him mumble causing your daughter’s laughter to fill the kitchen. “But listen my little love,” his voice was firm but still had a sweetness to it. She turned her head so she was giving him her full attention. “You can’t go around saying lyrics to my songs at school anymore.” She gave him a confused look at she folded her arms across her chest.
“Why?” Harry gave you a look as if he was asking for help and you just rolled your eyes as you walked around the island and bent down so you could be eye level with Delilah.
“Because love, the lyrics to daddy’s songs aren’t suitable for school. People might think you’re being a bit rude when you say them.” You watched her turn to face you and her little green eyes were squinted as if she was in deep thought.
“But daddy says them,” she pointed towards Harry, “and people don’t think he’s rude.” Harry gave you a smug look causing you to playfully roll your eyes.
“Daddy’s job is to sing those songs on stage at concerts lovey, not in a classroom full of little kids. You see the difference?” She just shrugged at you and you looked at Harry silently pleading for him to jump in and help you.
“Just no more saying them at school okay my little love.” She just looked at Harry and gave him a smile and a nod. “Thank you, now go wash up for dinner.” She gave you a smile as you stood up straight and helped her off her stool. Harry laughed as she skipped out of the kitchen and down the hall.
“Well we handled that well!” You just laughed as Harry wrapped his arm around your waist giving it a squeeze. He gave your cheek a quick kiss before going back to making dinner.
You loved that your daughter went around singing her dad’s songs and you really didn’t mind that she sang them at school, but you knew you and Harry had to nip it in the bud now before the school got really upset with it. The way you and Harry handled situations like these is something that often made the two of you laugh later that night when you discussed it while getting ready for bed. He never liked being the one who had to tell her she can’t do something so that normally left you with the job but tonight you were happy with how he handled it. You loved that he could get his point across while still being his soft sweet self and that was just one of the things you loved about him.