anonymous asked:

After that gorgeous handjob I definitely need something sweet and lovely. Like Harry surprising his missus with a candlelight dinner and stuff like that. Totally romantic and fluffy, ending up in bed hugging and snuggling.

A double update - woo! A short and sweet little something for those of you who love some cuddly Harry.

I love me some cuddly, surprise-filled, loving, boyfriend!Harry. It’s my absolute favourite - followed by sweaty, weak and submissive Harry. ;) ;) 

Read my newest smut piece, here

+ Feedback is greatly appreciated. x

“Harry, s’all this?” 

Confusion laced with your words as you stood in the doorway of the kitchen. In front of you stood a tired looking Harry, a smile on his lips with an apron tied around his waist with a face covered in flour and his hands covered in a sauce that you could detect as a lemon and garlic marinade due to the aroma filling the large and brightly lit kitchen. His green eyes were sullen and his eyelids looked heavy yet he looked as happy as ever, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel before his arms opened wide and he wiggled his fingers to summon you closer to him, to give him a hug and to have you close after hours of being away from one another.

“Peaches, s’all this for, hm? Have I forgotten something?” You wondered, your cheek pressed against his chest. “Are your parents coming down from Cheshire? Is Gemma coming over? Oh, is it February already? Is it your birthday? No, it’s just gone New Years,” you whispered, looking up to him.

You were sure you’d forgotten something.

An important date; a birthday, a visit from his family, an anniversary, maybe.

Harry always took it upon himself to create a feast fit for thousands when it came to a special date or an organised meal or a planned get together that required alcohol and snacks and homemade sweet treats that had him slaving away in the kitchen for hours of the afternoon. Hours that become filled with his sweet singing and his groans every time something went wrong and the sounds of pots and pans clanging together in a hasty movement of rushing to get everything finished.

But, you raked and raked your brain and nothing came to mind. And a wash of relief coursed through your body when he explained just what he was slaving in the kitchen for.

“Just want to show my love for you, Gorgeous. I had a free afternoon, and you were busy with work and I got bored and I just wanted to treat you and show you how much I love you,” he smiled, his lips pressing against your forehead and lingering softly on your skin. His warm breath fanning across your hairline and eliciting a soft yet content sigh from your mouth, between your lips and brushing against his apron. “Cooked a storm up in here today, m’tellin’ you. Had t’ changed clothes a couple o’ times and I think I got some flour and some egg whites in my hair. Forgot it was on my hands and I ran it through my hair to push it away from my face, and it got all matted and sticky, so I need a shower before we eat or I’ll be scratchin’ all night.”

“You’re awful,” you scoffed, pushing his chest away. “What have you made today?” 

“I’ve made a nice tomato soup with those croutons that you like as well as a little chicken Ceaser salad that Lou recommended to me. She said Lux absolutely loves when she makes it and she sent me the recipe the other day. I’m cooking lemon and garlic marinated chicken at the moment and some of your favourite herb-dusted baby potatoes with parsnips and carrots boiling in the pans on the cooker,” he explained, looking down at you as you snuck your head around his waist and gave his bum a soft pat. “And, I’ve made us a chocolate treat that mum recommended.” 

Peeking over his shoulder, you could see bowls filled with a chocolate-looking icing and a spatula covered in frosting.

“And what has your mum recommended?”

“Some strawberry and chocolate cake. Of course, I can bake a cake because I-“

“-used to work in a bakery. I know,” you teased, a smirk forming on your lips as his eyebrows furrowed and formed a soft dip at the top of his nose.

“Stop teasing me. I did used to work in a bakery. Took you back there, din’t I? You loved the lemon cheesecake they had there,” he reasoned, tapping the tip of your nose with his finger. A smile forming on your lips as you retracted your hands from his bum and pushed at his hips. 

The lemon cheesecake.

The words had your mouth watering. It was 3 years ago when Harry took you back to Cheshire for the first time, to meet his family and to show you around the routes he knew and the rooms he grew up in and the places he spent his childhood in – his primary school and his secondary school, the fields he played football in, the parks he hung out in with his friends, the college he applied for before his life changed for good, as well as the place he shared his first kiss; but he never went in to too much detail about the girl he did it with because he wanted to forget the rushed decision he’d made, new memories wanting to be made by recreating his first kiss with you, his current girlfriend who he loved dearly and knew was the one he was going to marry.

But the one place he took you too, that you loved and stayed within the walls of the longest, was the bakery he used to work at. His face lighting up as the two of you walked through the back door, an apron being thrusted into your hand as Barbara pulled Harry into her arms, handing over a slice of cheesecake for you both to share. The sweet smelling treat strong and yellow and gorgeously presented, a mint leaf sitting on top of the thick layer. His old boss, patting his back and setting him to take the front of the shop for an hour or two, was thrilled to have him back after so long – his best worker.

“We’re off track, anyway. I made us a chocolate cake with strawberries on the top as well as strawberry jam with the chocolate frosting between the two layers. It tastes good, too,” Harry smirked, turning on his socked heels and walking back towards the cooker, “and it’s sitting in the fridge to stay moist and proper. We don’t want a warm cake.”

“Did you buy ice-cream? We cannot have cake without ice-cream,” you stated, hopping up on the part of the counter that looked evidently clean and unused, holding the half-empty carton of strawberries. “Strawberry ice-cream always goes well with chocolate cake.” 

“I have the carton of ice-cream with chocolate, vanilla and strawberry ice-cream in. I think it’s still full from when we babysat Lux,” Harry explained, lifting the lid of the saucepan, his face engulfed by steam and disappearing behind the thick smoke. “Jesus. They smell good,” and you could hear the grin in his voice. “Do you want to go and get dressed out of your work clothes? I can see paint splatters and handprints on your shirt.” 

“S’actually your shirt,” you murmured beneath your breath, a shy smile on your lips as Harry’s eyes widened and his neck snapped towards you. “Sorry.”

“You wore my shirt to work?” He questioned, a smirk on his lips. “Did I say you could wear my white shirt to work, hm? I don’t remember saying you could raid my wardrobe and take one of my expensive shirts,” he teased, amusement lacing his words as they rolled from his tongue. Your eyes wide as you looked down at your fingers and toyed with your nails. “Oi, m’jokin’, Gorgeous. My clothes are your clothes. Apart from my jeans because you’ll trip over them.” 

“Won’t get them up my legs because they’re so tight,” you giggled, reaching for a strawberry and picking the stalk off of the top. “Surprised your legs still work, if I’m honest, Peaches. And your balls. I’m surprised they’re still release sperm.”

“Oi, they work very well, thank you. The number of condoms I’ve fill can be proof,” Harry smirked, his teeth taking his bottom lip as he chewed on the flesh lightly. “Besides, they work well and we’re going to make babies. Lots of ‘em.”

“Alright. You have the easy part. All you have to do is spunk in me and then I do the hard work,” you grunted, jumping from the counter and stepping, with a large step, over to where Harry was standing. His arms behind his waist as he tugged on the strings and undone the knot at the base of his back, removing the neck of the apron and placing it over the back of the stool underneath the kitchen island. “M’just goin’ to get changed. Anything in particular? My pyjamas? My underwear?” 

“I’d love for you to come down naked, but, I’d like to eat rather than have sex with you on the counter,” he whispered lustfully, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you to his body. “I love you. Wear a nice something. We don’t get to go out but, it’s always nice to dress up in our own house, right?”

“I prefer this anyway,” you smiled, “it’s so much more private and we can kiss and be intimate without people catching us in the act or taking photos or interrupting us.” 

You loved his fans and his strong fan-base supporting his every move.

And he loved them just as much.

They got him to where he was today and he never stopped showing his appreciation, no matter he was; walking the streets, getting a coffee from Starbucks, making a breakfast stop for the two of you in the later hours of the mornings, eating in a restaurant with you between lunchtime and dinner-time, or on his morning run when he was dressed down in his hoodie and a pair of running leggings with his hair pulled back into a tight bun with loose tendrils falling down his face and sticking to his skin with the sweat building up in layers.

You’d been interrupted on many dates and you understood that they were excited to see the one they admired and the only that they loved with their entirety and the one that they had been wanting to meet since the moment he was able to greet fans and take selfies with them and hug them tightly as he whispered his ‘thank you’s to them. But it was always nice to have a date in the comforts of your own home, where you were one another’s company without the feeling of being stared at or spoken fondly of or interrupted for chats and photos. It was never part of the ideal date Harry had in mind, and it was then (in times when all he wanted was to enjoy a dinner with you) that he wished he could click his fingers and have the privacy he desired – privacy where he was left alone to be intimate with you as you went out on normal dates and experienced the normality of a relationship that should have come with the relationship you had together.

“You’re definitely right, although we still run the risk of Horan coming up the steps and knocking on the front door,” Harry chuckled, “he’s missed me.”

* * 

Dinner had gone down a treat. 

With washed plates and full tummies and wine-flavoured lips that were pressed together in soft kisses, the both of you were content and happy and pleased with how the night had passed. The conversations entailed of anything and everything that was unrelated to work, because it was a Friday night and all you wanted was to unwind from the stresses and forget about the work you would go back too on Monday morning – the stresses of looking after children for a little under 5 hours, in a busy nursery block, where your attention had to be divided by those who were in need of being noticed and heard and where you had to be fully aware of what was happening.

Conversations entailed plans being made to visit his mother in Cheshire – because Harry claimed that he ‘never saw mum as much’ and that he wanted to get more recommendations on food he can treat you with.

He spoke about holidays and when you had time off so he could whisk you away to an exotic country and treat you like a queen – Hawaii and Greece being the top countries he mentioned more often than none, and it was clear cut that he’d been researching hotels and flights and seeing when the best time to go would be where the rooms weren’t all occupied and you would be left alone to spend time together.

You spoke about parties and get togethers as well as the newest upcoming party, slash, get together that Grimmy was holding in a couple of weekends at his home – a Summer party that required everyone to be there with booze and food and their party hats on because he claimed it was ‘going to be the best party thrown out of the entire list of parties thrown for Summer that year’. 

But as the night came to a close, and Harry’s hair was washed and dried from egg whites and yolk, and the both of you were dressed in your pyjamas – a nice fitted yet thin sweater upon Harry’s body with a pair of his black joggers hanging down his legs, whilst you dressed in your sleep shorts and a loose white t-shirt of Harry’s that had gone through a lot in it’s life time – lounging on the sofas with reruns of old programmes that the two of you used to cuddle up and watch. 

“We should head t’ bed in a bit, Gorgeous. I can see you’re almost falling asleep over there,” he chuckled, the sound rousing you from your state of tiredness. “S’almost midnight and you look exhausted,” he stated, yawning soon after.

“Coming from someone who’s been cooking all day and looks even more tired than me,” you teased, dropping your phone to your chest and propping yourself up on your elbows. “Come sit over here. F’we fall asleep, we fall asleep. I jus’ want some cuddles, really.” 

And you need not say more.

Because he was up in a flash, and making his way over to you, shuffling himself behind you and spooning you close to his chest. His feet knotting with yours, with your ankles bashing together every so often, and his arm snaking around your waist and settling upon your belly where his fingers began to draw soft circles into the material of his t-shirt. 

“You’re so comfy. Love bein’ this close to you, Gorgeous.”

“Hmm. S’my favourite position, honestly,” you whispered, twisting your body around and wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed your chest to his. “Love you,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, before pressing his red wine-tasted lips to yours.

* *

YOURINSTAGRAM: Hi, Peaches. Come cuddle with me. I miss your warmth and your cuddles and just you in general. You’re so close but so far. @harrystyles. 

anonymous asked:

hi lovely! I was wondering if you could an imagine where one of Harry's friends makes a move on you, getting physical when you reject him, and you don't tell Harry but eventually he finds out?

i changed it up a bit because i thought this way was more fitting? but if you don’t like it, i can rewrite! hope you enjoy xx

You didn’t like Harry’s friends.

No, not counting Louis, Liam or Niall, and some of Harry’s other business friends were also respectable. What you meant were his old school friends. You would’ve had no problem with them if they weren’t so clearly using Harry for his fame and money.

“You’ll love them, trust me.” Harry had promised you, that first time he had invited them over to your home. You had trusted him completely, but the minute they entered your house, they stunk of booze. How Harry seemed unbothered by this, you had no idea.

“Y/N!” The tallest, and clearly the most drunken one of the bunch, exclaims, almost knocking over a standing lamp. Harry catches it before it falls, and shoots you a cheeky smile. “YOU’RE EVEN MORE HOT IN PERSON!”

“Uh, thanks?” You hold out a hand politely, but his arms wrap around your waist and pulls you towards him. Stifling a shriek, you could feel something poke you from beneath his tight jeans. Pulling away immediately, you recompose your features, so Harry doesn’t see that you’re uncomfortable. 

You’ll love them, trust me. You do trust him. Things like that happen to men all the time, randomly too. Maybe it just means nothing. It probably means nothing.

“This is Will,” Harry introduces to you another quite drunken man, shorter than the first. “This is Henry and, well, you’ve already met James.”

James. The one eyeing your body up and down. Henry is swaying and murmuring to himself. Do these guys not know their alcohol tolerance? 

“Do you guys want anything to drink?” Harry asks them, and your eyes practically bulge out of your skull. He chuckles as he sees you, then adds, “Water, for everyone then.”

“I’ll get them,” you pipe up, happy for the excuse to leave the room. You didn’t know how you could feel so uncomfortable in your own home. Harry gives your arm a squeeze before you leave, and the bright lights of the kitchen are enough to expose your red cheeks. You murmur, “They’re Harry’s friends…how bad can they be?”

Pouring three glasses of cold water and two glasses of wine for you and Harry, you’re just about to walk the first three drinks out when you feel a hand on your….well, ass.

Thinking it was Harry, you smile and gently set the glasses of water down and let his large hand feel you up. Then you hear Harry whisper, “What a nice rack you have.”

Jumping out of your skin, you turn around to see the hungry eyes of James. “Get away from me,” you snap, fighting off his hands. You knew taking those self defence classes when you were in high school were gonna pay off someday.

But they didn’t teach you what to do when a man as large as James, who can hold both of your wrists in one hand and clamp a hand over your mouth with the other, attacks you in your own home.

You bite down hard on one of his fingers, and he pulls away for just enough time for you to scream HARRY!, but not quickly enough to prevent his hand from slipping up the inside of your shirt and bra to squeeze one of your boobs.

Harry walks in right then, though.

And once he sees what’s going on, he’s furious.

Your boyfriend tears through the kitchen, grabs James by the neck and pushes him onto the nearest wall, choking the life out of him. “You bastard, I trusted you,” Harry spits in his face. “How can you BETRAY me like that? Especially TOUCHING Y/N.”

The other two drunk men have now wandered into the kitchen, marvelling at the sight of James struggling to breathe. You’re too shocked to comprehend the fact that Harry’s choking someone, but when you do, he has already let go.

James drops to the ground in a flurry of gasps and pale skin, but Harry doesn’t give him time to even catch his breath. He’s already kicking all three of them out.

You’re still frozen to the kitchen floor when he comes back to get you. He’s combing his hair curls back, and he can’t even meet your eyes when he blurts out, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have…I know they’re nasty drunks, but I thought…I’m so sorry, Y/N, please forgive me.”

“Just don’t invite them over again,” you try for a smile and luckily, he smiles right back at you.

He holds your cheeks safely in the crevice of his fingers and grins, “I don’t think they’ll want to come back. After all, I nearly killed James.”

“For just touching my boob,” you whisper, running your hands through his hair. “I wonder what you’ll do to someone if they…went further?”

Harry’s jaw tightens and he whispers through your parted lips, “You’re mine. Only mine.” 

1D Hiatus: Day 258

* Rainbow Bondage Bear appears at Little Mix concert! 

* Louis posts a video on his Instagram Story

* Lou Teasdale tweets about Louis

* #LiamWeKnowWhatYouDid and #LoveIsLarryStylinson trend on Twitter

* Liam posts a picture on Instagram

* Louis is in Ibiza, pictures of him with fans in the club last night come out

It’s Aug 27th, 2016.

#366 - You’re On The Couch

Harry: You set the pillow down and laid down on your couch, pulling the blanket you had taken from your bed upstairs. Your eyes were heavy and you were just overly tired from all the fighting. It didn’t take you long to slip into a deep sleep and you didn’t wake up until you felt someone shaking your shoulder. Groaning out softly, you pulled the blanket up over your face, hoping he would take a hint. “(Y/N),” he whispered, his hand staying on your shoulder. “Go away Harry…” you mumbled out, rolling over so your face was facing towards the back of the couch. “Come back to bed…” he said quietly and you turned your head slightly. “I thought you wanted me down here,” you said bitterly. “I thought I did… I was angry… I don’t want to go to bed angry…” he replied as you rolled onto your back to face him. “I’m sorry (Y/N)…” You played around with your fingers and sighed out softly, pushing yourself up so you were sitting. “Okay…” “Okay?” he smiled softly, grabbing onto one of your hands gently. You nodded and swung your legs over the side, standing up with him. “I’m sorry Harry,” you said sincerely, wrapping your arms around his waist. “We’re okay now.”

Liam: You know what (Y/N), if you’re so fucking insistent that I’m some cheater, then you can sleep on the fucking couch,” he spat out, storming into your bedroom and grabbing a pillow and a blanket, throwing it over at you. You caught it and looked at him with wide eyes. “Liam…” you said softly but he held his hand up to stop you. “Enough, I’m tired of hearing it and I don’t want to deal with this tonight. I always take the couch, you can this time.” He was livid. You nodded slightly and stepped out into the hallway, the bedroom door shutting in front of you. You walked down the hallway and into the living room, setting yourself up and laying down. It wasn’t an uncomfortable couch, but you definitely didn’t want to be there. You tugged the blanket up to your chin, letting gout a deep and tired sigh, staring up at the ceiling. You knew you deserved to be down here. You wanted more than anything for him to come down and get you, but at the same time, he needed his space. You tried to get some sleep, but it just wasn’t coming. Sitting up you turned the television on, finding something quiet and mindless. You just hoped that things would work out tomorrow.

Niall: (His P.O.V.) Maybe I was being too harsh, but I needed to be alone. I needed time to think about everything that was going on, in my life and in our relationship. The fighting was so consistent that every night, I would just automatically take the couch. I felt like she was scared of me. Every time I even tried to get close to her now, she would shut me out and it broke my heart. I was tired of sleeping on the couch so tonight, I told her she needed to take it. She didn’t fight it, she just took the extra blankets and left. It was nearing 2 in the morning and I was just starting to fall asleep. There was a quiet knock on the bedroom door, and I opened my eyes, letting out a sigh. “Yeah?” I mumbled out, keeping my head on the pillow. The door opened up slowly and (Y/N) poked her head in. I looked at her, wondering what she needed. “Niall?” she said quietly and I nodded my head. “Yeah?” I repeated. “I’m sorry… for everything…” she whispered out. I pushed myself up and cleared my throat. “Like what?” I inquired, wanting her to say it. “For… closing you out and just not being what you need or want me to be and being rude and everything…” I nodded my head softly. “Thank you for apologizing,” I said softly and she nodded her head. “Yeah… okay,” she said softly and I gave her a small smile. “We’ll talk more in the morning okay?” I murmured, laying back down. “Okay… goodnight Niall…” “Goodnight (Y/N).”

Louis: You were trying not to give in and run upstairs, but the more you thought about it all, the more you just wanted to throw yourself at him and apologize and go to bed like you always did. You gathered up the blanket and the pillow, holding them in your arms as you stepped around the couch and walked into the dark hallway, making your way down to your room. You pushed the door open quietly and bit your lip softly, stopping when Louis cleared his throat. You looked at him and swallowed thickly, leaning back against the shut door. “What?” he asked, the anger still evident in his voice. “Louis I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” you murmured out, pursing your lips together. “I’m sorry for accusing you of everything, I’m sorry for not believing you, I’m sorry for everything Louis, everything…” He let out a sigh and rubbed his face, shaking his head. “I’m so tired of fighting about this (Y/N)… you never actually listen to my side of things.” You frowned and nodded your head slightly. “But, thank you for apologizing, and I am sorry too for acting the way I did, it didn’t help either,” he continued. “I don’t blame you Lou,” you said softly, walking over to the bed and seeing if he reacted. He pulled the blanket back on the empty side and nodded his head slightly, letting you come beside him. “We’ll work this out love,” he murmured, leaning over to give you a tight hug, rubbing your back slowly. “We always do.”

Zayn: “Why do I always have to take the damn couch?” he grumbled, widening his eyes. “What, you want me to take it?!” you exclaimed, sick of fighting and sick of him nitpicking everything. “Yes, actually, I do, you sleep on the damn couch for once,” he scoffed out, going to the closet and grabbing the blankets and pillows. “Look, I’ll even set them up for you, princess,” he rolled his eyes and you swallowed back the lump in your throat, following him out of the bedroom and grabbing everything from him angrily. “Don’t call me that for one, and two, I don’t need your help. Go upstairs and go to sleep and leave me alone!” Zayn laughed out harshly. “Gladly!” He spun on his heal and headed upstairs, his feet heavy with every step he took. You shook your head and threw the pillows and blankets in a pile on the ground, falling onto the couch and putting your hands over your face. The bedroom door slammed, echoing throughout the house. You pulled your hands back and wiped your cheeks quickly, refusing to cry over this. Grabbing your phone and the remote, you turned the television on, playing some cartoon while pulling a game out on your phone. You wouldn’t be sleeping for a while.

Sabes que eres Directioner cuando...

La gente suele pensar que l@s Directioners son unas niñas inmaduras que quieren acostarse o casarse con los miembros de esta banda. Es algo súper falso. Hay chicos Directioners (el más famosos de todos es sin ninguna duda Advil alias Abdul). L@s Directioners pueden tener más de 14 años, eh si. Hay fans de 25 años. Pero bueno la gente critica sin saber nada, sin saber que ellos escriben sus canciones. 

En fin, hoy os dejo con esto. Si eres directioner seguro que te vas a reconocer. Y no olvidéis que no hay que criticar sin conocer y no se dice “Es mierda” se dice “No me gusta.” 

Sabes que eres directioner cuando :

1) Sabes quien canta solo al escuchar su voz 

Y a veces antes de escucharla (tanto que tienes la impresión de que la canción forma parte de tu vida.)

2) Los reconoces solo al ver un tatuaje 

3) Sabes que Harry “used to work in a bakery.”

4) Ves un vídeo o una foto y que te ríes y que uno de tus amigos te pregunta porque te ríes, le enseñas y te dice : “No lo pillo.” 

5) Cuando escuchas una palabra y que la relacionas con una situación o una canción.  

Por ejemplo el otro día, estuve en el Súper y un hombre llevaba una camiseta que ponía : “Too much is never enough.”

6) Has dejado de dormir.

7) Tu familia o tus amigos se acuerdan de ti cuando les ve salir por alguna parte.

8) A veces (sobretodo cuando tienes más de 18 años) te da un poco vergüenza decir que te gusta.

…. Y que luego te da igual 

9) La gente piensa que solo te gusta One Direction.

Cuidado cuando dices que te gusta el rock o el rap, te miran con cara de flipados.  

10) Si te duermes puedes perderte 1000 infos que han ocurrido en solo 8 horas… Y a veces solo en 10 minutos.

Como por ejemplo, un videoclip o la foto de un bebé. 

11) Sigues por lo menos una de sus hermanas, madres (o todas sus familias) en Instagram o Twitter.

Y luego te quejas porque tienen la cuenta cerificada…. Y que tiene fans. Joder ¿por qué?

12) Te preguntas a veces si no formas parte de una secta. 

13) Te preguntas a veces porque empezaste a ser fan.

15) Te sabes sus fechas de nacimiento.

Y a veces la hora.

16) Dramas forman parte de tu vida.

17) Sabes lo que significa LS

18) Te da vergüenza cuando niñas insultan a sus novias.

Pero que no te extraña.

19) Tienes la impresión de que este fandom es mucho más efectivo que el FBI.

20) El Photoshop debe de estar prohibido para l@s Directioners.

21) Te da gracia (o pena) cuando ves que algun@s se inventan teorías de conspiración (bebés que no son reales, novias que no son novias de verdad) y que de verdad se las creen.

22) Ya has participado al VEVO Record.

Y es largo, muy muy largo.

23) Una canción empieza y en dos segundos sabes cuál es.

24) La gente te dice que no van a volver y tú gritas : “SI van a volver.” Y en tu cabeza piensas, “Liam lo ha dicho así que es verdad.”

25) Te sabes cosas de su vida que ni siquiera sabías que los sabías. 

26) Te acordarás siempre cuando se fue Zayn. 

Y ahora tienes la impresión de que te gusta más sin el que con el.

27) Eres capaz de no ir a dormir porque hay que votar por premios o concursos. 

No es importante para nada pero te convertiste en esclav@.

28) Tu hermana se sabe sus nombres y sus vidas sin ser fan.

29) Has visto todos los directos que existen en YouTube… Y a decir la verdad casi todos los vídeos en los que salen.

30) Te pone de mala hostia cuando la gente piensa que Harry es el líder.

#24 - He Posts A Pic Of You On The Plane


@/niallofficial: We’re going on holiday ! @y/t/n


@/Harry_Styles: Sleepy before our flight. H


@/LiamPayne: 2 beautiful views🙈


@/Louis_Tomlinson: So excited! Its gonna be siiiick !!