Harry Styles Smut - Blog Posts

hey pookies <3

what are we thinking about a harry styles, nialls sista fake insta fic???? like im feeling it but like are you feeling it???? i need to know- PLUS WHY IS THERE NO NIALLS SISTER FICS LIKE WHAT THE FRICK FRACK PADDY WACK GIVE A DOG A BONE???

NEways love ya <3

This so good, I’m sweating

can you write about seatbelt ;) (car shiz)

ngl, i forgot all about this but I saw a video on tiktok about Harry driving and ya know... the gears started turning... so- also not proofread but-

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Late night drives were your favorite. Especially when Harry was the one driving. You hadn't been able to see each other in a few weeks due to your conflicting schedules, so when Harry found out that both of you were off tomorrow, he couldn't wait much longer.

It was around 1AM when your phone rang. You were already asleep but when you saw his name on your screen, you immediately picked up the phone.

"What are you doing, baby?" He rasped and you smiled, your eyes still shut.

You loved when he called you baby. It was just something about the way he said it that warmed you from the inside out every single time.

"I was asleep, Harry," you huffed, rolling over on your back and tossing your arm over your eyes, "I worked a double today."

"Aww," He cooed and you could hear the sound of his car's engine in the background. For a moment, you thought you were hallucinating. That is until he spoke up again, "I was hoping to see you tonight, but if you're too tired..."

Your eyes shot open and you turned your head to look at the window. Lights casted through the glass and over your room as Harry pulled into your driveway.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

"Come see me, darling."

You were out of bed in record time. You grabbed your hoodie from the foot of your bed and slipped on your shoes at the front door, making sure to lock the door on your way out.

He got out the moment he saw you, meeting you halfway with a huge smile on his face. You threw your arms around him and his arms circled your waist, lifting you off of your feet as he buried his face into your neck.

"I missed you so much," He mumbled, inhaling your scent.

"I missed you more," You said as he gently sat you down on your feet.

"Ride with me?"

You didn't even have to say anything. He grabbed your hand and opened the car door for you. Once you were in, he leaned down and pecked your lips, a look of adornment on his face as he stared at you.

He drove around aimlessly for the next thirty minutes. You talked and he listened, he talked and you listened. You just enjoyed each other’s company. Eventually, you ran out of things to talk about but the silence was comfortable. You always felt comfortable around Harry.

He pulled into an empty parking lot and turned off the engine. You took in your surroundings, shaking your head, and chuckled when you noticed his horrible parking.

"You've been driving for years and you still don't know how to park," You teased, turning to face him.

"It's been a long day," He sighed, leaning all the way back in his seat.

You hummed and nodded, "I get it."

He turned his head and stared at you, his eyes raking over your body and lingering on your thighs. You were just in your pajama shorts and the only thing you were wearing underneath your hoodie was a thin tank top. When Harry said he was outside, the last thing you was worried about was changing your clothes.

"I really did miss you," He said, his hand reaching across the center console and resting on your thigh.

You rolled your eyes and smiled, "Did you really?

The feeling of his thumb tracing circles on your skin sent a chill up your spine, “Of course I did. Did you miss me?”

You tilted your head to the side, feeling his hand slide higher and higher. It wasn’t long until his fingers were brushing against your cunt. As if it was a natural instinct, your clit throbbed.

“Spread your legs for me,” He whispered and you did, leaning back into the seat and spreading your legs as much as you could.

You looked over at him and he was already staring at you. His hand slid into your pajama shorts and in between your folds, his mouth falling open when he felt how wet you were.

“Yeah you missed me,” he murmured, confirming the question he asked just a few moments ago.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing over your as his fingers rubbed up and down your slit. You unzipped your hoodie, suddenly feeling too hot in this small car. Harry’s head nudged your and his lips attached to your neck.

“So fucking tight,” He groaned as he slid his finger into your cunt.

Your back arched off of the seat, chest heaving. In one swift movement, Harry wrapped his arm underneath your body and lifted you. He sat back in his seat, pulling you over the center console with him until you were straddling his waist.

He kissed you immediately. Your head was starting to spin due to everything happening so quickly but you were eager and willing, kissing him back with just as much passion. Lips, teeth, tongue, and spit swapped and clashing as his hands roamed aimlessly.

He snaked his hand under your shirt and cupped your tit, pinching your nipple. You moaned, breaking away from the kiss and leaning back against the steering wheel. He followed your movements, sitting up pulling the top of your tank top down roughly. The straps broke and your frowned, grabbing ahold of his throat just as he went to suck your nipple.

“This was new,” you pouted, feeling his pulse quicken underneath your fingertips.

“Oh boohoo,” He huffed, his hands grabbing your waist and assisting you in moving your hips, “Want me to buy you another one?”

“Yeah,” You moaned at the feeling of his cock growing hard beneath you. You began to grind your hips a little faster, the ragged fabric of his jeans rubbing against your clothed clit in just the right way,

“I’ll buy you another one, baby,” He smiled, reaching up and gently pulling your hands off of his neck before leaning forward and successfully sucking your nipple between his lips.

His hands snaked around your waist and into your shorts. He grabbed both of your asscheeks roughly, spreading them apart as he continued to move your hips for you. You were dripping, surely you were leaving a wet spot on his sweat pants.

His tongue lapped at your nipple eagerly as he pulled you tighter against his body. One of his fingers slid into your pussy from behind and just as quickly, he pulled it out, gliding your juices over your asshole and he bit down on your nipple.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, feeling his finger slide past your rim.

“I missed that fucking voice so much,” he groaned loudly, licking up your neck, “Let me hear you.” He slid another finger into your asshole, causing you to moan loudly. He chuckled, “That’s it.”

Stars peaked in the corners of your eyes as the knot in your tummy tightened, “Harry,” you whimpered, your head falling forward onto his shoulder as he worked your hips faster.

He moaned in your ear, moving his fingers in your ass in a circular motion, “There we go, you feel so good wrapped around my fingers. You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you? Answer me, baby.”

“Yes,” You whined, fisting the front of his shirt as heat raced through your veins, “I’m gonna fucking cum.”

Your body froze and so did his fingers. Your clit throbbed erratically and your holes clenched. For a moment, you even stopped breathing and it wasn’t until he pumped his fingers twice that you caved, crying out and squirting all over his lap.

He let out a raspy chuckle, gently kissing your jaw as he slowly slid his fingers out of you. He fumbled around a bit until he found the handle on the side of the seat. He pulled you with him as he leaned the seat back further before reaching underneath you and pulling his cock from his sweats.

He stroked himself a few times, using his other hand to pull your shorts to the side, “Can I fuck you, darling?”

The cool metal of his cock piercing instantly cooling the heated skin as he glided the tip of his cock between your folds.

You nodded, biting your lip when he teased your entrance.

“Hm?” He nipped at your jaw, “What did you say?”

“Yes,” you panted, moving your hips in an attempt to get him to slide inside of you.

He slapped your ass, instantly rubbing over the sting, “Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good fucking girl.”

Before you could respond, he was sliding inside of you. You hissed as he stretched you out, it’d been a week since the last time he was inside of you and you knew it would take you a moment to adjust to his size again but you were needy. You didn’t want to wait.

“Please,” You begged, placing your hands firmly on his chest as you lifted your hips, “Please fuck me.”

He moaned, his hands finding your waist once again and pulling you down onto his cock. It didn’t take long to get a steady pace, but when he did, he ran with it. You could hardly catch your breath as you fucked him. Your hands snaked into his hair and pulled at the roots. He hissed, his hips jerking up and hitting your g-spot.

“Again,” He demanded, and you obeyed.

He cursed, the feeling sending a shock straight to his cock. You could feel his cock piercing against your walls and you could hardly stop the moans from falling from your lips. Your hips were starting to hurt from how hard Harry was gripping onto them but you didn’t care.

One particularly hard pull on Harry’s hair had him halting all movement. He stared up at you with raised eyebrows and dilated pupils. Sweat graced his forehead as he reached up and grabbed the seatbelt, “Give me your hands.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was grabbing your wrists and bringing your hands so that they were visible to him. He wrapped the seatbelt around your wrists once, twice, three times until they were slowly becoming numb.

“I can’t cum until I felt that tight little pussy clench on my cock and if you keep pulling on my fucking hair-” He trailed off, lifting his hips quickly and catching you off guard. You fell forward on his chest, your hands hovered over your heads now that the seatbelt had locked.

He slapped your ass again before sliding his finger inside of your hole. He was relentless, driving his hips up into you with no remorse. Incoherent words and stuttered moans erupted from your throat.

You balled your hands into fists and pulled on the seatbelt, wanting so badly to touch something, to steady yourself. Harry noticed and he snorted, his lips brushing against yours, “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you huffed, a lazy smile pulling at your lips, “You alright?”

“I’m great, baby,” He moaned, his hand coming up and tightly grasping your throat, “Just fucking great.”

He squeezed the sides of your throat, nearly cutting off your breathing as your clit slapped against his pelvis with every thrust.

“Holy fuck-” You gasped, feeling your body start to tingle as he repeatedly slammed against your g-spot. It was getting harder to breathe and you were becoming lightheaded. Still, you decided to move your hips along with him, wanting him to cum just as much as he wanted you to.

It was a challenge, not having the use of your hands but that didn’t stop you. Your cunt clenched around his cock tightly. All it took was four more thrusts before you were screaming his name. You came with a sharp breath, your head falling against his and kissing him deeply as he twitched inside of you.

“Please cum, daddy,” You whispered against his lips.

With a strained moan, his eyes fluttered shut and he released. Short, hot spurts of cum coated your walls graciously as his hands fell to your body. He rubbed his hands up and down your sides, massaging the flesh and kissing you slowly.

After a few minutes, you spoke up, “Don’t wanna ruin the moment but… I can’t feel my hands.”

He cackled and reached up, unwrapping the seatbelt from around your wrists and bringing your wrists to his lips. He kissed the bruised flesh, his eyes staying locked on yours as he smiled, “Wasn’t that fun?”

This story keeps getting better and better 😀😀😀

recordstore!harry fucking yn in the back room with people in the store 👀

exhibition kink + humiliation kink possibly?

Property of Harry Edward Styles

(this is part of the recordstore!harry verse, but can be read as standalone) Part 1 | Part 2

word count: 1.7k

See, normally you would’ve gone right up to Harry and greeted him, but when you entered the record store and saw that he was busy helping a customer, you just made eye contact with him to let him know you’d arrived and went on to browse through your regular sections.

Coming back to this place still seemed so surreal at times. You couldn’t get over the fact that you’d come here regularly when you were in high school just to sneak peeks at the curly dimpled guy you fancied that worked here, trying to impress him by looking at the records you thought he’d be into, and now… now, you’d been dating for the past 8 months!

All those years back, you’d have never thought he’d even spare you a second glance, let alone pursue you the way he did. When you walked back into the store after that tinder date stood you up, it had been a good few years since you’d last seen him. Needless to say, the cute curly dimpled guy you fancied had turned into this beefy, lanky long haired tattooed rockstar, and had it not been for that same dimpled smirk and unmistakable green eyes you wouldn’t even had recognized him. But what had been even more surprising was the fact that he’d recognized you- you! You’d had no idea that he’d even ever known who you were!

“Chase Atlantic, huh? They’re good” a male voice snapped you after your reverie. You looked to your right only to be taken aback by how close this guy was hovering over you and at your confused look he gestured towards the record you were holding.

“Oh, yeah. They are”

“What else are you into? You look like an Arctic Monkeys kinda gal” he reached over you, unnecessarily so if you may add, to grab their vinyl.

“Uhm. Sure”

“Compliant little thing, aren’t you?” the guy hummed amusedly

You stammered, trying to put some distance between the two of you, and your eyes scanned the store in search for Harry but you heard him before you saw him

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t harass the store patrons, mate, especially if they happen to be my girlfriend”

You knew that tone of Harry’s all too well, and you hoped this guy didn’t have a smart remark at the ready, otherwise this could turn messy. You knew that from previous experience. Harry was, uhm… the possessive type, to put it mildly.

“Hey, absolutely!” the guy stepped back from between the two of you “No hard feelings, mate”

Harry just stared down at him until he removed himself completely from your proximity and you could then even hear his hurried footsteps towards the exit followed by the door chime.

“Was that absolutely necessary?” you sighed

Harry’s furrowed brows turned into a genuine scowl at that “What, and let him hit on you right under my nose?”

“It’s not like it’s written on my forehead that I’m property of Harry Edward Styles, you know”

He just stared at you, a slow smirk playing on his lips while he slowly chewed on his gum, and you knew that look all too well. That little devil inside your boyfriend was cooking up something, and seeing that evil twinkle in his eye gave you the shivers. In all the right ways.

“Come with me out the back for a smoke?”

“What? No, Harry, just tend to the customers so you can lock up and we can leave for the movies, we’re gonna miss the opening credits!” you whined

“That guy got me all riled up, gotta blow off some steam, yeah? I just need a quick drag. Coming or not?”

“Don’t you want me to keep an eye on the customers while you’re out?”

“No” he huffed impatiently

“…Fine.”

You followed Harry out the back corridor but before he could push the emergency exit door open, he pulled you in the storage room, making you yelp. He pulled the curtain in place which served as a makeshift separator from the store, reminding you of the instance when he’d broken the door that used to be there. It had been back when you’d had your first fight over the phone and he was working. You’d found out a long while after, when you saw the curtain for the first time with your own eyes. He never got to replacing it, apparently, so the raggedy curtain was still in place.

“You can’t smoke in here, your dad is going to kill you!”

He shrugged “Ok” his smirk widening “How about you get on down on your pretty knees for me then, darling?”

Your eyes widened “What? Shh, keep your voice down! There’s people in the store, Harry!”

“Oh, I’m well aware” he raised an eyebrow, leaning over to your earlobe “Don’t act like you don’t like this, sweetheart. You never came as hard and fast as you did back at the dorm when Meriam walked in on us. Who knew the sweet, innocent Y/N could turn into such a dirty little exhibitionist?”

“Shut up, I am not!”

He chuckled lowly “Oh yes, you are. Want me to check and see just how wet you are right now?” You squirmed and under his intense gaze, sank to your knees “’s what I thought” he smirked, making quick work of his belt

From your vantage point, you realized the curtain wasn’t even reaching all the way down to the floor, you could actually see the shadows of some of the customers walking about the store on the carpeted floor, and for some reason, you realized, Harry was absolutely right. It did turn you on. Why was this turning you on?!

But you were once again snapped out of your own train of thought when Harry tilted your chin upwards and brought his hard, leaky cock to your lips. “Let’s not miss those opening credits, hm?” there was a tinge of humor in his voice, but otherwise you recognized the distinctive strained quality it got every time he was turned on

You’d forgotten all about the movie and frankly you were already thinking of how you could convince him to skip it entirely. But for now, you had more important matters at hand. As soon as you put your mouth on him, he hissed loudly and you wondered if people could hear him. Surely they could, right? Even with the quiet music through the speakers, you could still hear people chatting, could hear their footsteps, could hear everything as clearly as if you were out there.

“Good girl” he cooed, his lust filled gaze never leaving your eyes “Better not gag, wouldn’t want the customers to hear” he smirked, his breathing getting labored.

Just then he pushed in a bit more harshly, and you tried your very best not to, but you still gagged and he pulled away, letting you recover. Hopefully it hadn’t been too loud but you still shot him a look to which he just shrugged, chewing his gum languidly “Wanna try that again? I know you can do better for me, love. C’mon. Stick that pretty pink tongue out”

The whispering only made it sound filthier. You inhaled a few times, readying yourself and then complied, and he slipped past your lips and right down your throat, holding your head for a couple seconds, then pulling back out “Taking it all like a champ. My little cockslut, aren’t you?” he nodded expectantly and you nodded in return earning a light chuckle while he fisted himself, pumping harshly. You could hear the sloppy friction of skin on skin and the mere idea that people on the other side could just glance over and spot your knees on the floor in front of his standing legs under the curtain and know exactly what was going on, was making it very difficult for you to hold in your moans “Yes you are. Came in here looking all innocent with those big doe eyes, but only I know how to coax all this nasty shit out of you, don’t I? Compliant little thing…” he spat the last phrase, quoting the guy from earlier, and you were surprised that he’d caught that, but then again- of course he had, that’s what had gotten him into such a mood in the first place.

You couldn’t help it anymore, you just had to feel some kind of relief, so you snaked your hand underneath your skirt and rubbed yourself over your panties- he was right- you were drenched, and the fact that if anyone were to peek they’d see exactly what you were doing with your hand made you even needier. Part of you wished someone was secretly watching the whole thing whilst pretending to look at vinyl records. You wondered if they were turned on by it.

“Oh fuck, look at you” he whispered harshly between his teeth “Better make sure you come, Y/N, because right after I cum all over your pretty face we’re getting out of here, right? Gonna see if branding you as mine is going to help deter all the poor souls that would ever dream of coming near you again”

“Fuck” you gasped a little louder than intended, your fingers pushing past your panties and into your desperate pussy and you watched Harry clench his teeth and tighten his jaw as his pumps got quicker and quicker. Just as you felt the first rope of his cum hit your face, you moved your wet fingers to your clit, rubbing furiously and coming quicker than you ever had before, still spasming when he finally brought his tip back to your lips to smear it all around and have you have a taste as well.

“Store closes in five!” you were almost startled by his loud voice and looked up to him to see his dimpled smile and glassed over eyes “Fuck, you’re gorgeous…” he whispered, more to himself than you, it seemed. “Gonna close up and then I’ll bring you some wet tissues, ok love?” he helped you to your shaky feet and before you could even properly distance yourself from the curtain he pulled it aside, making you scurry backwards and behind some shelves, lest someone actually saw the state you were in. He winked back at you before he walked off and you were left wondering how the hell had you just done all that, and most importantly, why you couldn’t wait to do it again soon.

Part 1 | Part 2

Main Masterlist

A/N: i love writing these two, can you tell 🥵

THE PIC EVEN HAS A CURTAIN IN THE BACK ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, i chose it after i wrote it! ☠️

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

🦋follow me on wattpad to get notified whenever i post something new/update!🦋

I love all your record store Harry blurbs. You’re so talented. Thank you 😊

omg pls write smthg ab harry eating the reader out then they hear her roomate come in the house and instead of stopping he just gets under the covers and keeps eating her and her roomate comes in and like has a conversation with her and she s trying so hard not to moan while he s just going down on her like theres no tmrw😩😩😩😩

Insufferable

(this is part of the recordstore!harry verse, but can be read as standalone) Part 1 | Part 3

word count: 1.8k

“Harry” you scoffed, then felt his chuckle vibrate against your chest. He was resting his head just atop your boobs while you were lying in bed, watching a movie on your laptop. Every so often, he would sneak a hand under your top and start fondling your breasts since you’d forgone wearing a bra.

“Can’t really expect me to just have them under my nose and not wanna play with them, can you?” he mumbled, dragging the pad of his middle finger ever so slightly around one of your nipples

You fidgeted, making the laptop slide off your thighs. He was getting to you “Look what you’ve done!” you sighed audibly

He raised his head slightly then, looking at you all smug “Fuck the movie. Got something a lot more interesting right here” he pinched your nipple then making you gasp and him grin wickedly and you could just kill him for it

“Harry, you’re being insufferable. You know we can’t, here. We’ve been through this before”

“Do I? I don’t remember that I do. Remind me again, why the fuck not?” there was a slight edge to his voice and you realized he really wasn’t just teasing you this time around

“Because” you raised an eyebrow “This is a fucking bunk bed! We’re gonna break it if we even try! Not to mention there’s hardly any room, it’s a single mattress. You can’t even sit up straight without hitting the ceiling—"

“Why would I need to sit up straight?” he interrupted you, contorting his face

“Aaaand” you interrupted him, in turn “The whole reason this is a bunk bed in the first place is because I have a roommate, in case you’ve forgotten? Meriam? The one who sleeps on the bottom bunk?”

“Yeah, and she’s at that Marron 5 concert, isn’t she?”

“Harry, cut it out” you warn but that only makes him hover over you fully, his elbows on each side of you, both his hands now under your top, fondling your breasts

“She’s not gonna be here for another 2 hours at the very least. Would you relax?” his voice was deeper, barely audible over the sound of the movie that you haven’t even paused and would now have to rewind. The laptop had slid off to the side towards the wall, and before you could protest any further, Harry took the hem of your top between his teeth, dragging it over your breasts. You hissed at the cold air hitting your naked upper body, your dorm room was especially chilly this time of year, late in the autumn, when the heating wasn’t on yet for some reason you couldn’t comprehend. That’s why you and Harry had been cocooning under your blanket looking at a movie in the first place.

“Sorry, baby” he brought the blanket further up and over his shoulders “Here, lemme warm you up, hm?” he attached his warm mouth next to one of your hardened buds and you mewled contentedly, suddenly forgetting all about why this had seemed like such a bad idea “Gonna get you all sweaty in no time” he liked at your breasts and you could barely hear him all muffled, what with the blanket over his shoulders and his long hair tenting his face, you were surprised he had any air, but he was a man on a mission. You arched your back when he finally slid his hand down the front of your sweats and palmed your pussy over your panties “It’s working already. You’re burning up” he raised his head to look at you- smirking, of course, to which you rolled your eyes but you ended up throwing your head back entirely when he fingered your panties to the side and started dragging his finger up and down your slit, spreading your wetness

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” you grunted, pushing yourself onto his fingers, your body betraying you

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned it. You hate my fucking guts, I can tell” he then smacked your pussy sharply using the tips of his fingers and you jumped at the impact, enabling him to drag your sweats down your legs along with your panties and kicking them to the edge of the bed somewhere under the blanket.

He hit his head to the ceiling when he sat back on his knees to help you undress, though. “You deserved that” you giggled and he narrowed his eyes at you

“Oh, I’ll show you what you deserve, then”

God knows how many eternities later in, and you were a sweaty mess. Harry had made good on his promise. He’d been edging you for God knows how long, eating you out and fingering you to the brink of orgasm only to then chuckle at your needy whimpers as he kissed you and played with your breasts enough to have you come down a bit. He would then resume his attentions to your cunt and you just didn’t know if you hated or loved him for it.

“Harry” you moaned “Please. I can’t take it anymore. Please…”

“I love it when you beg” he groaned against your pussy and you moaned a bit louder than you’d intended at the vibrations that had caused. He was the one that kept having to remind you now that you were at your dorm. Oh, how the tables had turned.

Just before you were about to make a sassy remark that would’ve probably earned you a few more rounds of him edging you, you heard quick footsteps to your door accompanied by the unmistakable voice of your roommate.

There wasn’t much time to do anything about it, so you simply pushed your top down and grabbed the blanket that had been long ago thrown to the side, covering yourself up, along with Harry, thankful that the movie was still ongoing this whole time.

“Yeah. No, I know! You told me. Hey, listen, I just got back to the dorm, text you in a bit” Meriam hung up her phone and threw it on her desk “Shit, Y/N. Would it kill you to open up a window from time to time? I know you’re always cold, but Jesus! It’s like a sauna in here!”

You glanced at your roommate over the railing of your top bunk, hoping upon hope that the angle did a good job of hiding the big lump under your blanket

“Sorry. Hey, but weren’t you supposed to be at the concert? Is it over already?”

“Get this! The two numbskulls I was going with bought the tickets from God knows where and when we got to the venue, turns out they were fake! Fucking Naomi and Connie, man…”

You could hear Harry feign a gasp from under the blanket, parroting your roommate “Naomi and Connie…”

You pushed your hand under the blanket and found his hair, tugging harshly at it, eliciting a wince from him. You cleared your throat, hoping Meriam hadn’t heard any of that “Shit, that blows. I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to it”

Your roommate scoffed “I dunno why I let them handle the tickets, it’s my fault, really. Like when have they even done a thing right. Never, I swear to God if I—"

You yelped, interrupting her when Harry’s finger plunged right back into you, followed closely by his lips sucking intently on your clit. You’d already been on the brink of your orgasm several times, and you were incredibly sensitive. And he was now, finally working you exactly the way he knew you liked it, hitting your g-spot perfectly and sucking your clit using just the right amount of pressure

“Are you alright?”

“Huh? Why?”

“You sound a bit nasal. And you look kinda sweaty, maybe you’re coming down with something. Your eyes are glazed over. Want me to go make you a cuppa?”

“Ohhhh. Oh, my God. Yes! Please!” you sighed, probably sounding a bit overly enthusiastic to Meriam, who had only offered to make you some tea “Uhmm… That sounds… Amazing”

She giggled “Ok, weirdo. You could’ve asked. Just don’t get me sick, I’m still gonna try and get tickets for the day after tomorrow, but guess who’s not invited this time around! Hey maybe you can come too, if you’re feeling better?”

“Mmmhm. Gonna come!” you squealed, your voice strained. Harry was relentless, even though you definitely pulled on his hair hard enough for it to hurt, it appeared that he wasn’t stopping until you saw stars

“Think you might have a fever” she laughed “Ok, ok, I’ll be right back with that tea”

Just in time with Meriam closing the door to your shared dorm room behind her, you finally came- so violently that you thought for a brief second that you might both end up on the other side of that top bunk. He milked every last twitch out of your body before throwing the blanket off of him and gasping for air, his sweaty hair glued to his face, panting heavily.

He barely got in a lungful of air before you had to cover him right back up, your roommate kicking the door open unexpectedly “Forgot to close the window, don’t want you catching pneumonia on top of that cold”. She then made her way back to the door “You look like you’re about to pass out. Should I be worried?”

You shook your head in slow motion, with what little energy you had left after that mind blowing orgasm. She made for the door and stopped for a second, just as she was about to leave again, as if to turn around and say something else, but ultimately decided to leave anyway.

You sighed heavily and Harry emerged once more from under the blanket. He looked as though he’d just ran a marathon. You couldn’t help but breathe out a faint laughter “You deserved that, too”

He exhaled audibly as he made quick work of jumping off the bed “Oh yeah? Lemme know how you explained these to Meriam. There’s no chance she didn’t spot them” he flashed his trademark devilish grin at you as your eyes widened, watching him get his Chelsea boots on as well as his fedora he’d carelessly tossed by the door when he’d gotten there “Enjoy your tea, darling. She’ll be serving it to this whole campus. Bet Naomi and Connie are already in the loop” and with a final wink, he was out the door leaving you half naked and burning up even more than before.

Part 1 | Part 3

Main Masterlist

A/N:

🦋follow me on wattpad to get notified whenever i post something new/update!🦋

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

How about DI Harry with a breeding kink 👀

word count: 2.3k

Harry was acting… strange.

You thought it was because his friends’ newborn baby had been quite fussy while you were out for lunch, and maybe it’d irritated him. He’d wanted you to meet them and so you arranged to meet at this quaint little café, sitting out at the terrace, but his poor friends had to take turns trying to pacify the baby the whole time, even left briefly taking turns walking around with him for a while only to have him start crying the minute they put him back down in his pram.

At one point, they’d even joked saying maybe you should try holding him just to try out your luck, and although you’d been reluctant to do so, having had no experience with babies ever since your brother, what with your significant age gap, when you took the baby in your arms it stopped crying for some inexplicable reason.

Harry even helped you hold him properly, positioned the baby so that you were supporting his head while you held him to your chest and then he just… went silent for the rest of the lunch date.

You hadn’t even really noticed it, because now that the baby was content napping in your arms, and his parents could finally grab a bite to eat and talk to Harry (or at Harry, considering his silence), you couldn’t find it in yourself to try and put him back in the pram. And if you were being honest, it felt quite nice. He was warm and chubby and he smelled like newborn baby, and as long as he didn’t drool or, worse, throw up on you, you found you quite enjoyed holding him.

At one point he eventually opened his eyes and you thought he was going to start crying again but you just smiled at him and he seemed to like it. He reached out for a strand of your hair and you gently unclasped his little fist from it, because you knew he’d eventually start yanking it, you’d seen him doing it to his mother, but as soon as he let go of your hair he grabbed onto your index finger and you were surprised at the force he had when he squeezed it.

He eventually lost interest in that too, and his eyes landed on something much more appealing to him. He let go of your finger, and you were thankful for it- it was already tingling, the blood flow slowly recovering- but then when you felt his clammy little hand yank at your cleavage you gasped as he pulled it down far enough to expose your lacey bra.

His mom immediately ran to your aid, and everyone made light of the situation joking that he’d seen your cleavage and remembered it was supper time- everyone but Harry, that is, who just sat and looked at you funny.

So now, after the car ride that had been unusually quiet, you flinched when you heard him shut the front door with a loud thud, having used more force than necessary. You didn’t get to turn around before he bent to your ear from behind you, his voice low “I want you to go to the bedroom and wait for daddy like a good girl, ok, baby?”

You nodded, not daring to turn around, you knew better than to do anything else other than what he’d told you to whenever he was in this mood.

You rushed to the bedroom, stopped by the ensuite real quick to freshen up a bit, then stripped down to your lingerie since he always wanted to be the one to take it off of you. You then got under the covers and waited for him, mindful not to touch yourself under any condition. Those were the rules.

You hadn’t expected him to want to play, he’d seemed so off that you were sure he was going to tell you how lunch had been tiring what with all the baby’s crying, but as soon as you’d gotten into the car he just turned on the radio and the first words he’d spoken had been those he’d used earlier, instructing you to go wait for him in the bedroom.

You always loved it when he got more dominant than usual, and judging by the tone in his voice he was definitely in a mood.

By the time he reached the bedroom, he’d already unbuttoned his shirt and he took it off while approaching the bed, his hands going for his belt next.

“Is my baby all comfy?” his words were sweet but the sharp edge to his voice was anything but

You nodded, bracing yourself on your elbows and watching him get fully naked. He was so hard, it almost looked painful.

“What did I tell you about using your words?”

Your eyes widened, his deep harsh voice snapping you out of your reverie “Sorry, daddy! I got lost for a moment there… looking at you… you’re so hot” you squirmed under the blanket

He grabbed the duvet and yanked it off you in one swift motion, earning a squeal. The smirk on his face made you relax a bit, but you were still on edge, you always were when he was like this

He straddled you, his thighs on either side of your torso, holding you in place. His cock was right there, proud and leaking in front of you. You could’t help but whimper needily

“What’s the matter, baby? See something you like?”

“Please, daddy, can I touch you?”

“No. No, today daddy wants to bury himself deep inside of that tight little cunt of yours. Wanna make it last, so no, you don’t get to touch me. All you gotta do is be a good little slut for daddy and let me do what I please with you, hm? My little pillow princess. How’s that sound?”

“I”ll have you any way you want, daddy. Love your cock”

“Gonna play with you a bit first. I love every bit of you. Look at those perfect tits. Take’em out for me, will you, baby?”

You made quick work of your bra and threw it to the side, then Harry grabbed you from under your arms and maneuvered you so that you were straddling him now in turn “I love it when you dangle them over my face like this, wanna suck at them all day long and never get tired. Want you to smother me with them. Fucking perfect” he groaned licking at your breasts holding them together in front of him and kneading them in his hands as he sucked on each nipple at a time. You tried your best to keep your balance over him but eventually you had to hold onto the headboard as he feasted on you. It felt so good that it made your knees buckle, but for once you cursed how tall he was because you were sitting over his butterfly tattoo, and instead, you wished you could grind over his cock while he was doing that.

“Love how your nipples get all swollen after I play with them” he pulled back a bit and just stared at them while he ran his thumbs over the buds. He then cleared his throat and glanced at you before staring back at your breasts adoringly “Can I tell you something?”

It wasn’t usual for him to turn all vulnerable while you played around, so you stiffened a bit, wondering what was prompting his change in demeanor “Of course”

“I just… can’t get it out of my mind, the way the baby tugged at your shirt. How perfect you looked holding him to your chest like that. Couldn’t help but imagine you nursing your own baby. Your breasts overflowing with milk… Is that weird?”

“Why would it be weird? It’s natural for men to get turned on by the prospect of a woman being fertile”

“And you’re definitely fertile” he glanced up at you again, his eyes hooded and his pupils visibly enlarged. He was really getting worked up over this “Don’t freak out. It’s just… hypothetical”

“I’m not freaking out” you were quick to reassure him. Besides, you weren’t hating the idea. Hypothetically. You bit your lower lip “Can I tell you something, too?”

He was quick to nod, the lust in his eyes was making it difficult to concentrate. He was still playing with your breasts, caressing them and tugging at your nipples from time to time and you couldn’t help but grind against his butterfly tattoo, desperate for some friction but you tried to word what you were about to say in a way that wouldn’t freak him out “Sometimes… when you cum deep inside of me, and you keep pumping it back inside of me… and then fuck me all over again…” he groaned while you were talking and you almost forgot what you were about to say, but you blinked rapidly, trying to gather your thoughts “I… I sometimes wish you would knock me up, make it catch. Mark me as yours…”

“Fuck, Y/N!” he almost cut you off

“Don’t freak out!”

“I’m not freaking out” he grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you close to his face as he scooted upwards meeting you half way “You think I don’t think about that? Fuck! I think about it all the fucking time” he lounged for your mouth then, his tongue already searching for yours before your lips could even touch properly. You moaned into his mouth and he rolled you over, hovering over you “Do you really think about it, too?”

You bit your lower lip again, you could barely feel the sting after how ardently he’d kissed you “Yeah, I do. I’ve no plans to get off the pill anytime soon, so I know it’s not actually going to happen, but a part of me just… pushes aside all logic in the heat of the moment and wishes you’d…”

“Make you mine. In every sense of the word”

Your breath hitched “Fuck, Harry. Why does that sound so hot?”

He groaned “You’re fucking perfect, you know that? I’ve been meaning to tell you about how I fantasize about putting a baby in you for the longest time, but I didn’t want to freak you out”

“You’re not” you reassured him again “Because I know exactly what makes you feel like that. It’s primal. And it’s so hot, daddy” you reached to kiss him again and finally, finally he ground himself against your center making you writhe underneath him

He yanked your panties off of you and wasted no time sinking his middle and ring fingers inside of you, meeting no resistance. You were so worked up you were absolutely dripping for him.

“Look at you. So fucking perfect. Something about you… fuck me, I don’t know. You’re just so fucking breedable. Makes me want to fill you up again and again. Makes me fantasize about your hips widening and your breasts leaking, all because of me”

“Fuck, daddy! Fuck me, or else I swear I’m gonna cry. It’s too much. Please”

“Shhh, don’t cry baby, daddy’s gonna fuck you good. You need it, don’t you? Deep in your bones, you can’t deny it, your body is calling out to me. I could smell you a mile away, would recognize that perfect weeping little pussy from a thousand. It’s like you’re fucking made for me. Never felt like this about anyone else. Never been hard all day long around a woman like a fucking teenager desperate to cum like this, desperate to fill you up and make it stick”

“Daddy!” you almost screamed when he finally removed his fingers that have been pumping into you all this time and used his cock instead, with no preamble. You clawed onto him, it was like you couldn’t get close enough “Oh my God, I’m gonna come so hard for you! I’m already so close. Oh, fuck!”

He pressed his palm over your lower belly “Feel me here? Feel how deep I am?”

You nodded frantically “So deep. Fuck, you’re so big. I don’t know how you make it fit”

“You’re taking it so well for daddy” he cooed and then brought that same middle finger he’d used to your lips and you immediately sucked onto it, making his eyes roll back “It’s ‘cause your precious little pussy is desperate for my cum. Your body is just begging me to knock you up. Begging me to claim you. It speaks to me in ways I can’t explain, but I understand. And you understand too, don’t you baby? My perfect girl, my best girl”

You gasped as he increased speed, dropping his finger out of your mouth “Oh God, ohgodohgodohgod—”

“There she is, my sweet girl, God I love it when you come, you’re the prettiest little thing. You just love daddy’s cock that much, don’t you, baby? Come on then, come for daddy. Show me just how much, and I’ll fill you up to the brim, gonna give you all I’m worth” he delivered a quick slap over your clit then and that was what finally sent you over the edge.

Harry made good of his promise, riding out your orgasm as he chased his own release and you felt every single twitch of him inside of you, as well as heard him groan like never before, almost animalistically. It truly was primal, the need you both felt for each other. And it was so liberating to finally be on the same page with someone and be able to express your sexuality in ways you never even thought possible. Sex with Harry was never just sex. It was a kind of intimacy you’d never even dreamt of before. And this had proved to you yet again that you truly were made for each other.

Daddy issues- Masterlist

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

the new harry photo is giving "i just fucked my wife/girlfriend behind stage and now she's being cheeky by taking a photo of me re-buttoning my trousers".

Side eye - mean dom!h

I will proofread it and add details tomorrow, I hope you guys will enjoy it for now! I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes, I'm tired hehe.

Don't mind her, she's tiny ok 🤏🏻

Jenny was on the stage finishing her show.

Unlike any other day, Harry decided to stay under the stage where they had a small lounge area until it was time for him to perform.

It was just him and his girl, who was wearing the tiniest dress he had ever seen. He was the one who bought it for her, he wasn't so sure why he was acting surprise, but the boner inside his pants knew very well what they needed: a quick fuck.

They were sitting on the couch when Harry began squeezed her thigh, his hand sneaking under her dress, meeting her bare pussy.

"Looks like someone is ready? Why aren’t you wearing your underwear? You know I don't Ike the thought of others seeing the cunt that belongs to me." He said, meeting her clit with his thumb, making slow movements around the little nub.

"I knew you would want to have a quickie," she said, closing her eyes and feeling her breathing becoming uneven, being well aware someone could walk in at any time.

"Oh you knew that I would? It looks like you are the one so desperately to be fucked all the time that you find it better to walk around bare like that." He took his thumb off of her clit, undoing his pants, throwing the fabric of his trousers on the floor, alongside with his boxers. "Is that what you want? Having me bending you at random times of the day and giving you my cock until you can't walk?"

He held her hips and manhandled her body, putting hee on her knees on the couch, back turning to him as he straddles her backside, rubbing his cock against the fabric of her dress. "We need to be quick, though, I have a job, can't keep fucking you any time you want, needy little thing."

Harry lifted her dress, watching her ass on display for him, he slapped her cheeks twice, leaving the mark of his hands on her soft skin, laughing as she whined.

"Please sir, I want you now," she begged, looking back at him with her beautiful Bambi eyes.

"Always get what you want, spoiled brat." He positioned his cock on her hole, pushing it all in one go, moaning as her warm walls welcome his hard cock. "Fuck, such a good pussy ya' have," he said, beginning his thrusts, giving her no time to adjusting.

Jenny only had two more songs left.

Y/n hold onto the higher part of the couch for support as Harry worked himself inside of her. She could cry by the pleasure feeling growing on her body, she loved being fucked fast and raw.

She loved how Harry knew what he wanted from her, so he just took it.

Loved how his lips were on her neck, giving the skin hickey visible enough for the whole crew to know exactly what they were doing.

"Don't stop, please," she said, bringing her hand to her clit and messaging it, bringing herself close to her climax. "You are so big, filling me up so good."

"Yeah? Treating my little slut right?" He asked, slamming his hips against her. "When we get to the hotel I'm gonna fuck you again, gonna take you on the balcony so everybody can see who owns you."

He slapped her ass again, his ringless fingers feeling weird on her skin. She enjoyed the feeling of the cold metals against the burning marks.

She moved her finger faster, knowing that Harry was also close to his orgasm. Harry harshly took her hand away, replacing her fingers with his own, while picking his pace.

His balls were ready to release all of him inside her cunt. He worked himself in and out until he felt his lower belly burn with a well known feeling. Ropes of his cum left the tip of his cocky, painting the walls of her pussy while Y/n cummed on his cock.

Harry didn’t have to warn her about her noises, his smart girl already knew she must kept herself for him and only him. Harry continues fucking her until he was sure she had milked all of his seed.

He carefully pulled out of her, watching the white cum dripping down her legs right to the leather couch. He kissed Y/n's cheek, and fixed her dress, helping the girl in a sitting position.

"I need to go now, but you stay here, alright?" He said while putting on his pants, giving her a side eye. "When I come back I'll clean you, but you need to keep my cum inside, ok? Gonna do tha? be my best girl?" He asked, finished his trouser and kneeling in front of her.

"Im gonna give you my cock again later, you just need to be good to me while I'm working, I might even buy you another one of those pretty shoes you like, how does that sound?"

"Sounds good, H," she said, feeling light-headed.

"Yeah? Good, now take a nap, you gonna need rest for when I fuck your pussy tonight." He kissed her nose innocently. "Bye, love you.'

"Love you too, H." Was the last thing she said before closing her eyes.

Bumping this up because it's still my favorite piece that I have ever written and we're nearing the territory of the most wonderful time of the year! 😇🎄✨

"Show your Bunny that you love him so-oh-oh.." MASTERPOST

A best friends to lovers Christmas story featuring the best JB song of all time: Mistletoe.

Set in the too-white Winter Wonderland of a bungalow and the Cheshire Christmas Market, Bunny and Sunflower spend their first Christmas Eve together alone.

A sparkling 39.3k words, this is a holiday whirlwind of a story that's both soft and fluffy like the winter snow, and warm and crackling at the touch like sitting by the fireside.

My gift for myself and to all of you,

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, lovelies! 🌟

Chapters:

- The First Cup of Hot Chocolate

- The Second Serving of Cranberry Sausage Rolls

- The Third Piece of Mistletoe Cookies

"Show your Bunny that you love him so-oh-oh.." MASTERPOST

A best friends to lovers Christmas story featuring the best JB song of all time: Mistletoe.

Set in the too-white Winter Wonderland of a bungalow and the Cheshire Christmas Market, Bunny and Sunflower spend their first Christmas Eve together alone.

A sparkling 39.3k words, this is a holiday whirlwind of a story that's both soft and fluffy like the winter snow, and warm and crackling at the touch like sitting by the fireside.

My gift for myself and to all of you,

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, lovelies! 🌟

Chapters:

- The First Cup of Hot Chocolate

- The Second Serving of Cranberry Sausage Rolls

- The Third Piece of Mistletoe Cookies

"Show your Bunny that you love him so-oh-oh.." - Chapter Three

The Third Piece of Mistletoe Cookies 🎄

- Story Masterpost for the other chapters

Sophia ends up being wrong.

She does still know her best friend.

Well a semblance of the totality of her best friend, when Harry went to activate his all-protective mode on her like the norm whenever he senses Sophia starting to feel uncomfortable, starting once they walked back to the Cheshire Christmas Market.

For some reason, there were so many people heading their way inside at the same time as Harry and Sophia. It’s like every single person in the town of Cheshire for the holidays, have all booked their Christmas Eve night to go to the tree lighting event.

There’s nothing wrong with that, people should do whatever the hell they want in the most wonderful time of the year. But too many individuals with excited families and friends huddling together creates crowds and Sophia does not like crowds, especially loud and exciting ones.

Despite all of Harry’s earlier teasing that he doesn’t let Sophia wait in lines for any of his concerts both solo and the band days, they both know it’s something deeper than Harry being unreasonably overprotective. Sophia gets easily overwhelmed in the presence of a culmination of people, she feels crowded both physically and mentally that she tends to spiral in her head in the state of irrational panic.

Harry had known it earlier on during the times they played at the local park near their homes. Every time other kids decided to swarm her favorite slide, Sophia would end up crying somewhere in the chaos of playing children before Harry came up to save her from her head by securing his arms around her sobbing body. Harry wanted to avoid that same thing happening to her when they grew-up and it was only fitting that he didn’t leave her waiting in line with screaming girls or crowds who would do anything just to touch his and his bandmates’ hands.

Even with the massive cloak of confusion that covered Sophia earlier at the end of their dinner, she actually sang in big relief when Harry instantly shielded her body from the crowds by placing her in front of him with a secure hold wrapped around her waist from the back.

They maneuvered the moving crowds that way, Sophia clutching tightly on Harry’s coat clad arms, mind seeming to pull farther away from her battling thoughts and emotions the more they walk into much deeper crowds. By the time they’ve reached the entrance, all Sophia wanted to do was see the damn tree getting lit up, and then walking straight back to the parking lot so she can sleep in the car while Harry drove them back to their too-white Winter Wonderland bungalow. Walking and the crowds had made her knackered to do anything more than that.

Harry must feel the same way, Sophia feeling his body deflate on her back once they’ve found the perfect position to watch the tree lighting ceremony without being submerged in the bustle of people around them.

“This place good, sunflower?” Harry whispers in her ear.

Sophia nods her head slowly in answer despite Harry being positioned behind her, not seeing the motion clearly. When Harry begins to disentangle his hold around her, Sophia promptly stops him by reaching back to pull his body back to hers.

Sophia moves her head sideward to whisper to Harry, “Stay, please bunny?”

She doesn’t think her sanity could have taken Harry replying in disagreement, her soul too tired to fight the glowing pull inside her to just want Harry to surround her and make everything better again, make every drop of foggy confusion inside her crystal clear like he had always done.

Harry doesn’t take the chances of breaking Sophia’s reason as he envelops his warm hold against hers once again, chin bending down to rest on her shoulders as Sophia releases a breath of consolation with her head tilting to the side to rest against Harry’s own. She allows herself to breathe in the comforting notes of Harry’s favorite perfume, her nose nudging against his temple and jaw in a gentle touch, letting the curls escaping the confines of his newly purchased denim baker boy’s hat (he just had to buy it and Sophia’s not even mad) tickle her skin.

It’s good to feel something familiar, to feel things start to resemble something jolly and bright once again. Being in Harry’s warmth evokes the same emotions to Sophia, their comfortable silence is enough to suffice her weary state. The two let the people around them do all the talking and singing of Christmas music as Harry and Sophia contently watch it all occur in front of them.

Sophia feels herself truly relaxed when the one minute countdown for the tree to light up begins. Her tight and frantic hold on Harry loosens to a soft hold as she feels Harry pull her closer to his chest, showing no intentions of moving away regardless if she isn’t in a frenzied tired haze anymore.

The deafening cheers of everyone around them pulls a glowing beam in Sophia’s face, the twinkling lights of the massive Christmas tree dances in front of her eyes like a complete magical experience. She almost wants to laugh at herself from the bizarre curving points of her emotions and thoughts for the entirety of the day. All those mess seeming so silly when just looking at this fucking dazzling Christmas tree makes every single nerve in her body much lighter, tingle happier.

That’s why when Harry softly whispers directly to her ear the words, “I love you, my baby sunflower.”

There’s nothing stopping Sophia inside her to reply in the most genuine and honest way she had ever felt within herself whenever Harry uttered those adoring words.

“I love you too, bunny, so much.”

In that moment, with Harry wounded tightly behind her back and the sparkling glory of the Christmas lights blanketing her in a pure light of unbridled joy, Sophia didn’t care that it’s the first time she had said I love you to Harry, sure and confident within herself that her intent was more than platonic.

Sophia basks in the simple kiss Harry places on her temple, lets her nose run along his in a reverent pattern. The love that she feels for Christmas time and the boy beside her, does not leave Sophia’s system even when they start making their way to the parking lot ready to leave the Christmas market.

Sophia blames it on her honeyed gaze of her pleasant emotions and her easily affected tired state when her focus zeros on a chocolatier stall that’s selling artisan chocolates in the kiosk near the exit of the market. She tugs on Harry’s hand that’s tight on her, wanting him to stop walking and lead her to the stall that’s calling for her name.

Harry follows her line of vision when she successfully stops him from making his gigantic strides, her pouting face tilting up towards his amused one.

“Chocolate, really?”

Sophia smiles, “I’m hungry?”

That makes Harry chuckle as he lets go of her hand to properly look at her, “Is that a question you’re asking me, because I don’t think I can answer that for you, sunflower.”

Sophia pouts again, “Not asking, just want you to take the hint and buy me those chocolates. The Advent calendar box one, please.”

“And why would I do that?” Harry laughs, arms crossing on his chest while giving Sophia a teasing look. “You’re the one who’s been having my head off for the entire day for buying ‘unnecessary Christmas shit’ as you’ve called it kindly, and now you want me to buy you a box of artisan chocolate Advent calendar?”

Sophia just nods, “Uh-huh.”

“Well I don’t know how to tell you this kindly the same way you’ve told me earlier: it’s Christmas Eve, sunflower. I don’t think you need that box of chocolate Advent calendar when it’s the bloody last day of Advent today.”

“You don’t have to think about it that way,” Sophia soothes, “bunny, just think of this as a means for you to offer me some consolation price for all the unnecessary Christmas shopping stress you gave me earlier.”

That makes Harry release a huffing laugh, “That’s not the point, sunflower!”

“What’s the point then?” Sophia slants her head to the side in confusion.

“My point is that you wanting those chocolates as a consolation prize does not make you less of a hypocrite for criticizing my Christmas spending spree earlier.”

Harry has a valid point, but Sophia’s sleepy and she’s happy and no one can take that last one away from her on Christmas Eve.

“Baby, please? May you please buy me the chocolate Advent calendar box? Pretty please?”

That perks up Harry in an instant.

“You want it that badly, huh baby?”

Sophia never calls Harry ‘baby’. It’s already too much for her whenever Harry calls her that, imagine all the things she wants to let out into the world if she decides to call him baby on the regular.

Harry is my absolute baby and I want to treasure him forever and keep him in my pocket cause he’s my adorable little baby, no one else's.

That’s absolutely impossible, and borderline creepy in various angles, but Sophia understands right away why Harry is quickly engrossed in complete curiosity when she lets out that pet name that she rarely uses on him.

Too timid to reply verbally, Sophia meekly nods in affirmation, eyes fluttering downwards on the cold England soil. She sees Harry’s boots moving towards her own, minimizing the remaining space between them. His cold gloved hand perches a hold on her chin, tilting it up for their eyes to meet. Sophia swears there’s actually literal stars (or the entire galaxy if we want to be more specific) in Harry’s eyes, it’s glow intensifying from the colorful Christmas lights encompassing them.

“If I buy you those,” Harry rasps, warm breath hitting Sophia’s cheeks from how near they are from each other, a lovely relief from the cold air constantly hitting their faces, “what are we going to do with the tins of Quality Street and Celebrations waiting in the car for you?”

Sophia frowns, “What? You got me some?”

“Yeah,” Harry smiles, a bashful shine underneath it. “After I landed at the airport, I went straight to the nearest Tesco to get them. And then they didn’t have some because apparently, I’ve been months late for every holiday thing, so I took the extra drive to head for a Waitrose and thank fuck they had them in store.”

Endeared does not encapsulate Sophia’s tremendous and numerous blissful emotions, “Really? You did that all for me?”

Harry exhales a cheery laugh like Sophia is lost for even asking that question, arms dropping to hold Sophia’s waist, the latter bringing her arms up to wrap around the back of Harry’s neck.

“Sunflower, you’ve been having my ear off about those chocolate tins for the last FaceTime calls we’ve had. There’s no way I wasn’t going to get you some.”

Sophia giggles at the disbelief in Harry’s tone, leaning her warming chin on his chest for all the sunny laughter spilling out of Harry, “Yeah, but that was like the start of the ‘ber months’ which is practically September when I was missing anything related to life in England. There’s no way you remembered it for that long.”

“Call me nuts for taking note of it then,” Harry curls the girl closer to his warmth, “I even started arranging things with Jeff already, finding a personal shopper in the UK that can buy me both tins. Since I was in the States and you were in Australia, Jeff and I were finalizing the private jet that will deliver the chocolate goods to you because there’s no way you’re going to get them in time, and in perfect shape if I got it delivered overseas the regular way.”

Color Sophia shocked all the way, “What?!” she squeaks, “A personal shopper and a private jet? Are you bloody insane?” Harry’s tone of complete casualness has rendered Sophia baffled in his arms.

“Probably?” Harry shrugs, smirking widely at the unmoving expression of surprise and awe in Sophia’s cold-flushed face. “It is kind of crazy for me to cancel all those plans and drive my tired self to get the chocolate tins in person at 11pm. And I’m probably a proper loon now since I’ll still gladly buy you that Advent calendar box of artisan chocolates.”

Maybe, just maybe, this Christmas Eve, Sophia and Harry can be loons together.

Two lunatics with their tins of Quality Street and Celebrations waiting for them to be picked upon with their personal favorites traded between each other. Let’s also not forget the fancy box of artisan chocolates that the both of them devoured merrily on the way home to their very own Winter Wonderland of a bungalow.

It would be amusing to any outsider to see the current situation of Harry and Sophia in their kitchen. The immense carefulness that Harry is exhibiting to properly assemble Christmas cookies on a little plate beside a glass that Sophia slowly filled with milk, will make someone think these 27 year-old individuals still think Father Christmas is real. How pathetic, huh?

In Sophia’s opinion, everyone else is the pathetic and ludicrous one for missing out on the rather immaculate intelligence that both her and Harry had discovered.

Like the rest of us that have gone from the innocence of childhood to the angsty stages of teenagehood, Sophia and Harry had obviously found out the hard truth that Santa is in fact, not real. The two had taken the news pretty lightly, considering that it was the pair’s tradition to prepare the food for Santa before they head to bed on Christmas Eve.

That’s what sucked most, removing that miniscule but special tradition of spending time together crafting and decorating Father Christmas’ sweet goodies, with the two of them having his leftovers come Christmas morning because Santa (their parents, apparently) can’t possibly finish six sugar cookies and a pint of sweet milk.

But who said you had to remove that tradition? That’s where everyone got it all wrong.

Sophia and Harry had come upon this colossal genius idea of still continuing their tradition of preparing Santa’s late night treats, but with the intention of actually eating it together on the morning of the 25th. Their parents and Gemma had found it to be very strange, though they just can’t completely understand how the pair can practically inhale all these dozens of sugar cookies in one go. Tricking their mind into thinking that they have to save up some for Santa tonight, would slow down their appetites. Come Christmas morning the next day, they still have sugar cookies to enjoy thanks to their past selves. Aren’t they genius?

Well Sophia and Harry surely think they are if they're still up with this tradition of theirs even to this very Christmas Eve.

Upon their arrival back at the bungalow, the pair had taken their individual showers having an agreement that they’ll meet the other at the kitchen to studiously prepare Father Christmas’ goodies, and then after that they can watch one Christmas film before heading to bed.

If that sequence of events somehow also included Sophia finishing her shower and heading back to the room in her fluffy dressing gown only to see Harry wearing the garish Christmas jumper he bought earlier, pouting and fluttering his eyes all pretty at Sophia as he sat waiting on the end of their bed with her matching gaudy knitted garment in his lap, nobody needed to know that Harry didn’t need to force her or even say anything before she’s reaching for the bundle of atrocity on his hold and heading back to the bathroom to change.

So now in their matching ugly Christmas jumpers that Harry had instantly asked for them to take a photo together to post on his close friends IG stories (sorry, Harries), Sophia feels content having Harry’s wide grin be directed towards her every once in a while that their eyes meet as they painstakingly do their own tasks in the kitchen.

It’s Christmas Eve, Sophia thinks she’s allowed to properly bathe in all of Harry’s affectionate glow in the way she wants. Her pining heart and muddled-confused and worried mind can wait for Christmas morning where Sophia will once again set herself straight with the reminders of the possible dangers of more.

But right now, she’d rather choose to berate Harry for stealing yet another cookie on the Christmas plate he’s arranging, thinking that Sophia can’t see him from where she’s standing with her back on him, cutting pieces of carrots to be placed on a reindeer-shaped bowl.

“Bunny, stop munching on those cookies. Those aren’t for you, well yet. Just wait for tomorrow or else this thing of ours will be pointless.”

“How do you know what I’m doing here?” Harry asks, Sophia doesn’t need to turn to look at him to see the evidence of crumbs on his lips, “I thought I was being sneaky.”

“You do this every time.” Sophia giggles, “and every year you think you’re being sneaky but you’re not.”

Harry grunts, “Well, why do you give me this job of the sugar cookies if you know each time I’d be tempted to get some.”

Sophia finally turns to look at her best friend, filling the corners of her mouth tug upwards when her assumptions are correct, seeing the unmistakable green and red frosting dotted on Harry’s lips. “You also never like cutting the carrots every Christmas Eve so I don’t think I’m at fault here.”

That makes Harry nod in recognition, lips pursing in thought, “Oh, I remember now. I also ask you each time we do this why you still need to cut carrots when we technically don’t need to because these aren’t really for the reindeers that we’ve been deceived to believe. Like, who would want to eat carrots on Christmas morning?”

“No one.” Sophia confirms, “But we’d thank our past selves once again for providing some sort of nutrients for all the sugar overload that will be putting on our bodies for the rest of the holiday season.”

Harry’s quirked lips turn brighter from the same spiel Sophia always provides every year that he questions the purpose of her carrots. He looks so amused for someone that has heard the same answer every year which makes Sophia giggle at how silly he is.

Shaking her head in little giggles, Sophia says, “Why don’t I go and finish this up and then I’ll help you fix the Christmas cookies there to make sure that you won’t get tempted to eat anymore. Also, to check which ones you’ve already stolen. We can’t have all the mistletoe cookies for Santa, bunny.”

Because they bought the cookies near the closing of the Christmas market, only a handful of designs were still available. They bought eight sugar cookies (four each in the morning) and Sophia remembers seeing four mistletoe designed cookies, and the other four were a mixture of Santas and snowmen and one Christmas wreath. Harry better not have eaten the latter four or Sophia would remove his privilege of picking their Christmas movie because she can’t have just all mistletoe cookies in the flat-lay she’ll be posting on her IG.

“Good, you’ve managed to eat one mistletoe cookie.” Sophia says impressed, standing beside Harry on the kitchen counter looking at his progress.

Harry scoffed in faux offense, his beaming smile still etched on his face, “I’m impressed that you have little faith in me, sunflower. I actually won’t ruin your Christmas morning by taking any of your cookie shares so I don’t plan on pocketing anymore than one cookie tonight.”

Sophia slightly narrows her eyes in suspicion at Harry’s specific choice of wording. Though no further actions were taken on her side as Harry winked cheekily at her before returning his focus on the Christmas delicacies in front of them. Since there are no imminent signs of mischievousness from her best friend, Sophia shrugs and begins to assist Harry in the finishing touches of their little feast for them to munch on tomorrow morning.

Sophia smiles fondly as Harry lights the red Christmas Eve scented candle they got a while ago, placing it in their kitchen set-up as the pair exchanged guesses of what the notes of the candle contained, making a little game out of it as they wafted the sweet and spicy aroma of the candle.

Busy in finding the perfect angle to take a breathtaking picture of their holiday spread for Santa, Sophia doesn’t notice the slight movement of Harry from beside her. Doesn’t register that the arm going around her waist was not to hug her close to his side, chin landing on the crease of where her neck and shoulder meet as Harry shares interest in the selection of pictures Sophia took, displayed on the screen of her phone.

It was apparently a deceptive act for Harry to reach over the table, slyly looting another Christmas sugar cookie. Thankfully his gangly limbs are not that far away from his muscular arms that despite the heftiness of his biceps that Sophia always gets distracted over, Harry’s still rather clumsy in all regards. The clinking sound of the plate moving was enough for Sophia to whip her head towards Harry.

“What did you do?” Sophia questions, editing of her picture on pause as she places her phone on the surface of the kitchen counter to deal with later.

“Nothing.” Harry smiles, arms rounding behind his back trying to look innocent when it’s nothing but in Sophia’s watchful eyes.

“I heard the plate move, bunny. I’m not daft to not know you took something from our spread on the kitchen counter again.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry chuckles lightheartedly in an attempt for a distraction, arm snaking around Sophia’s shoulder so her back was behind their food. “You keep talking about our Christmas treats, maybe you’re the one starving right now, sunflower.”

“I know what you’re doing,” Sophia giggles despite Harry’s efforts of steering the conversation to her, “You’re hugging me because you don’t want me to see what you took again. Which is quite smart of you because I was totally ready to count the cookies and I’m sure that’s what you got again you little cookie monster!”

Before Harry can spew anymore of his nonsense, Sophia takes the first tickle attack as her nimble fingers lurched upwards directly on the back of the shell of Harry’s ears where she knows he’s the ticklish. Harry lets out a loud squeak in the dimly lit quiet kitchen, retaliating by tickling Sophia’s sides in her chunky jumper.

“BUNNY!” Sophia screeches loudly, giggles erupting from her squirming body, trying to get away from Harry’s close hold on her.

Harry’s own laughter is ringing all around the compact space of the bungalow's little kitchen. Sophia’s cheeks spread wide in an unrelenting smile, it almost hurts from how spread out it is just like her sides that Harry has still yet to stop attacking with his deft fingers despite Sophia’s lack of attempt in tickling him back.

“Bunny, stop, please!” Sophia pleads in complete laughter, hands landing on Harry’s hips to squeeze firmly as an attempt to stop his merciless motions. “I promise I won’t tickle your cute little ears anymore, just please stop tickling my sides as well.”

Harry does stop after she says that, Sophia tilting her head up to be able to look at the tall boy properly. She sees the glint of undeniable fondness in Harry’s green gems as he looks down at her, though something in his smile stirs questions on her mind having not seen that particular touch before.

The feeling gradually gets defeated by the wild flapping butterflies on her stomach when the familiar smirk of Harry graces his features that never fails to send Sophia hurling in a dreamy, hot daze whenever it’s directed towards her.

“Oh would you look at that,” Harry breaks their quiet reprieve in a tone of light surprise, “we’re under a mistletoe.”

Sophia feels her heart lurch in the implication of Harry’s words, before confusion settles on her features knowing well that there isn’t a single mistletoe in this hazardous too-white Winter Wonderland of a bungalow they got styled for them.

Harry’s close and attentive eyes, probably spot the dips in Sophia’s brow in plain confusion. He puckers his lips and motions it above, eyes raising upwards as well in a cheeky manner. Sophia follows his line of vision, mouth gaping open at what he’s done.

Harry has his free arm raised above them, the recent sugar cookie he had stolen is held between his sparkling gold manicured fingers, the mistletoe shaped cookie pointed perfectly on the top of their heads.

“Bunny, wh-”

“Alexa, play Mistletoe by Justin Bieber.”

Sophia doesn’t know where to be most shocked about. For Harry’s rather rude interruption of her question, the fact that there’s apparently a working AI in the bungalow that she has not been informed about, or the one that Harry apparently knows how to operate one despite being a grandpa in today’s advanced and helpful technologies.

The answer hits Sophia quickly straight to her gobsmacked soul, and it’s not even in the list of the things she’d pointed out above.

That irritatingly pretty and attractive smirk of his is still present on Harry’s face, green stars locking intently with Sophia’s own surprised clouded eyes, the Christmas bells of her favorite holiday song echoing in the background.

Sophia doesn’t even have the capacity to hear Justin Bieber’s angelic voice star singing, all attention wrapped on the man before her as he starts singing along with the song he despises the most every Christmas time.

“It’s the most beautiful time of the year,

Lights fill the streets, spreading so much cheer.

I should be playing in the winter snow,

But I’ma be under the mistletoe.”

That’s the most surprising thing out of anything. Harry Styles and his deep melodious voice singing Sophia's favorite Christmas song in front of her, for her.

Sophia is so surprised that Harry’s actually singing it seriously, not like all the other times he’s done so mockingly in the past, that she doesn’t notice Harry placing back the mistletoe cookie on the kitchen counter, quickly moving away from their close distance to sing his heart out in a calm breeze.

“I don’t wanna miss out on the holiday,

But I can’t stop staring at your face.

I should be playing in the winter snow,

But I’ma be under the mistletoe.”

“Sunflower, sing it with me!” Harry swiftly glides across the kitchen space, picking-up two baking spatulas on the kitchen counter stand, throwing one to an unmoving Sophia who thankfully catches it. Harry winks all unhelpfully at her as he continues the chorus, body moving side to side like the total performer that he is.

“With you, shawty with you.

With you, shawty with you.

With you, Sunflower, come and join me already! I can’t be the only one having a blast here!”

And who was Sophia to think she even has a drop of ability in her to resist such a crazy request?

So Sophia catches her bearings back, returning Harry’s cheeky and encouraging smile as she briskly sang the second verse along with the Biebs, placing her all in her voice like all the damn time she shook her bloody arse while jamming to this to wherever Harry and her were spending Christmas the past years.

“Everyone’s gathering around the fire,

Chestnuts roasting like a hot July.

I should be chilling with my folks, I know,

But I’ma be under the mistletoe.”

With Sophia’s hand clutched tightly on the candy cane printed baking spatula acting as her microphone, she winks at a gleefully swaying Harry for him to take the next part. Sophia giggles in absolute wonder as Harry dramatically leans his head back to sing with his own Christmas tree printed baking spatula under his lips.

“Words on the street, Santa’s coming tonight.

Reindeers flying through the sky so high.

I should be making a list, I know,

But I’ma be under the mistletoe.”

Sophia cackles loudly when Harry enthusiastically sings the ‘I know’ part of the song with complete hand gestures with his index finger raised up and going down in a swivel just like the curl of his voice all singer diva like.

Harry doesn’t let her get away from not singing though, coasting towards her with the captivating move of his body, swaying to the holiday tune like a total dreamboat. His floating movements placed Sophia in a bubbly stupor, making her sing along with him in the chorus in an encompassing carefree bubble containing them in.

“With you, shawty with you.

With you, shawty with you.

With you, under the mistletoe.”

The pair’s voices harmonizing flawlessly, reeling their buoyant bodies near each other as they continued singing the chorus with gazes locked, matching smiles of exuberance makes Sophia’s mind all lovely-whirly.

“With you, shawty with you.

With you, shawty with you.

With you, under the mistletoe.”

Because it has been previously established that Sophia and Harry work in perfect synch without the need for any verbal instructions, Sophia takes the bridge by herself while trying to not end up toppling in laughter at Harry’s quick cheeky commentary while she sings Justin’s words.

“Ayy love, the wise man followed the star.”

“What star, sunflower?”

“The way I followed my heart.”

“Oh really? Did you use a sat nav?”

“And it led me to a miracle.”

“Aww, did you just call me a miracle? Baby, stop!”

“Ayy love, don’t you buy me nothing,”

“Why not sunflower? Tell me why!”

“Cause I am feeling one thing,”

“Don’t you dare break into a One Direction song you bugger!”

Sophia rolls her eyes at Harry’s comment, smiling with her pearly whites on full display before continuing the song. Red manicured fingertips tapping her lips at the following words.

“Your lips on my lips.

That’s a merry, merry Christmas.”

And she winks suggestively causing a howling laughter spilling out of Harry. His pointer finger coming up to wiggle side to side in a disapproving nature at her.

“Naughty, naughty, Santa won’t likey!”

The opposite of Harry’s words is displayed through his next actions. He closes the miniscule distance between Sophia and him, palms landing on the dips of her waist in an anchoring hold. Sophia’s head raises up to look at her best friend in their new close proximity, arms raising up as well to snake around the back of Harry’s neck, forearms resting comfortably on his shoulders as they gently sway each other in tune of the first verse once again.

Except this time, they sing the words straight to each other’s beaming faces, voices dropping in volume to accommodate their intimate distance. Harry’s deep tone expertly hitting Justin’s high ones as Sophia sang softly along, not one to resist the candy-sweet feeling in her veins when being lucky enough to hear Harry sing this closely and this effortlessly.

“It’s the most beautiful time of the year,

Light’s fill the street spreading so much cheer.

I should be playing in the winter snow,

But I’ma be under the mistletoe.

I don’t wanna miss out on the holiday,

But I can’t stop staring at your face.”

‘Same Justin, same.’ Sophia thinks as an afterthought as she feels her cheek heating-up abnormally while staring at Harry’s handsome face, the colorful Christmas lights of the mini tree in the kitchen illuminating the fine edges of his features.

“I should be playing in the winter snow,

But I’ma be under the mistletoe.”

Sophia hopes Harry will not notice her blushing pink cheeks, the dim lit room increasing her chances. But the way Harry’s eyes begin to light up in a semblance of astounded recognition, tells Sophia otherwise. She can't find it in herself to be embarrassed though, especially when Harry’s thumb enters the picture as he cradles one hand on the plump of her flushed cheek, softly stroking her skin there with the same glint of amazement in his eyes.

The last chorus of the song comes, Sophia and Harry exchanging the words between them in complete reverence like every single one of them is the last they’re about to speak to each other.

“With you, shawty with you.

With you, shawty with you.

With you, under the mistletoe.

With you, shawty with you.

With you, shawty with you.

With you, under the mistletoe.

Under the mistletoe.”

As the chorus fades into the outro, so does Sophia’s voice. There’s something in the look that Harry’s giving her that sends a sudden chill in her bones, a cutting gaze of realization.

If earlier at the end of their dinner, Sophia had felt the world fall under her feet in the stark realization that she couldn’t read her best friend for the first time in her life, right in this moment it’s the complete 360 degree turn.

Harry’s wide green gems are staring at Sophia in utter earnest, sparkling irises are suddenly so open, so vulnerable, giving Sophia the key to the answers of all her earlier confusions.

She wanted the answers earlier, couldn’t take the unknown expectant look Harry had given her after she had read that note on the folded gold paper he gave her.

And now she has it, can see it, can feel it in his gaze, can reach for it if she wanted to because Harry’s look tells her he’d willingly give her anything she had wanted in that moment. Sophia only needs to ask and Harry would be toppling over on his endless limbs to make it happen.

But Sophia is scared, and has the right to feel scared when Harry likes dropping serious shit like this on her when she’s completely unguarded.

That’s why on the outro, it’s only Harry who sings it. Voice much softer than ever, whispering tenderly as if he’s singing directly to Sophia’s rapidly beating heart. They’re practically slow dancing at this point to be honest.

“Kiss me underneath the mistletoe,

Show your Bunny that you love him so-oh-oh, oh, oh, oh.

Kiss me underneath the mistletoe,

Show your Bunny that you love him so-oh-oh, oh, oh, oh.”

The apparent change of lyrics instantly creates a deeper flush on Sophia’s cheeks, the whole fucking zoo migrating to her stomach as it thumps wildly at Harry’s words dripping with honesty. No traces of jest is given to Sophia, not in his words, not in his tone, not in his touch, and surely not in his gaze.

Harry slowly drops his forehead to reach the level of Sophia’s own, delicately resting his skin on hers. Sophia’s gaze drops downwards, eyes skimming Harry’s tattooed arms holding her body securely to his chest. She can’t seem to look Harry in the eye, she can feel the heat of its stare on her suddenly too-warm skin. Sophia settles in breathing in Harry’s comforting scent deeply, in the same pattern that Harry’s own breath hits her senses with the tip of his nose affectionately rubbing against the slope of her slender nose.

Sophia feels overwhelmed to say the least. The main priority of arranging her whirling thoughts has resulted in her lack of attention that Harry’s lips are barely an inch apart from her own plump ones.

“Did you mean it?” Sophia whispers, breaking the comfortable silence in the room. She needs to say something before Harry does something he might regret if he has yet to understand the depth of Sophia’s emotions for him.

This is going to be their first kiss together, and bloody curse Sophia for believing that she’d rather not continue with it if Harry wouldn’t want to have something more with her after. Harry Styles pining shaped heart or not, Sophia is still anchored by her self-integrity.

“Hm?” Harry hums, lips moving some inches away with his long lashes blinking, hitting the top most part of Sophia’s cheekbones from how close their faces have remained, “That I want you to show me how you love me, and how you should do that by kissing me underneath a mistletoe? Yes, sunflower. I mean it.”

That’s not really helpful, in Sophia’s opinion.

It’s like already a given fact that Sophia would want to do that and Harry is not completely dumb to not know even just a smidge about her crush on him. There’s only so many times Sophia can be caught blatantly staring at Harry’s bare, hot, tattooed chest without it giving Harry a slight peek into her pining thoughts.

“Not that,” Sophia says breathlessly because it’s still a bombshell hearing her best friend openly tell her that he wants Sophia to kiss him like she’s not been dreaming how that would feel ever since she understood what kissing meant.

“Dinner, I was referring to our dinner earlier. The golden paper and all that.”

Harry hums once again before replying, the flat side of index finger coming up to stroke Sophia’s lashes gently like some sort of mascara wand. Sophia is taken back to a time where a young Harry would stay cuddled on the couch with her, a Christmas movie forgotten in the background as he instead maps Sophia’s face with gentle fingertips like he’s memorizing each and every crease and crevice of her round features.

“Of course I meant it.” Harry straight-away replies in a firm whisper, “Thinking back now, maybe I shouldn’t have written it on a piece of paper that’s generally known for having jokes in them, but I just get so bloody flustered when it comes to you and my emotions for you. It makes me do impulsive and ridiculous shit that I should probably think over better before going along with it. Though I can’t say I regret anything, not even singing to bloody Justin Bieber because it’s your favorite Christmas song and who was I to not capitalize on that when I finally fucking admit my feelings for you on Christmas Eve.”

And if that’s not a verbal response to any of Sophia’s confusion and worries of the repercussions of wanting more, then Sophia is a right madman.

Sophia defends that she has already, self-proclaimed since earlier that she is a right loon this Christmas Eve, so she thinks it’s justified when she asks a question again instead of replying to Harry’s rather abrupt confession.

“How about that other time? In Italy this summer. Did you mean that?”

There must be something in Sophia’s tone that sounded urgent, almost pleading for an honest answer that makes Harry detach their glued faces to be able to look at her properly.

This time, Sophia doesn’t scare away from finding Harry’s eyes, feeling a sense of relief when she doesn’t see him frowning at her endless questions. Instead, Harry is even giving her that fond-filled smile like the one over breakfast when Sophia simply giggled at his self-deprecating joke of being a gangly giant.

“Yes, I meant it.” Harry replies without any faffing about, both hands coming up to cradle Sophia’s full cheeks in his warm palms while his green pools brighten in remembrance. “I meant it when I said that if by 30 years-old I still have yet to find the one for me, I’d marry you in a heartbeat because you’re-”

“My soulmate for life.” Sophia utters together with Harry, the four words that have caused an epiphany that solidified her emotions towards her best friend. The same four words that have hunted Sophia’s heart ever since they came back to real life from that absolute dream of an Italian holiday.

Harry’s grin might just break his face from how big it is upon realizing Sophia remembered his words, verbatim. “Yes, that’s you sunflower,” lovingly bopping the tip of her nose with a gentle pad of his finger, repeating the heart-plummeting words, “my soulmate for life, that’s you baby.”

Sophia finds herself reaching for Harry’s wrists that’s still raised up cupping her cheeks, circling her dainty hands around them firmly to ground herself in the moment, making a conscious effort to picture this moment in her memory forever.

“Again, you make me so flustered and do stupid shit,” Harry continues in a light giggle, “so it probably wasn’t the best idea to tell you those word while I was Italian sun drunk, red wine drunk, and a doting Sophia drunk. Nevertheless, I’m telling you now that I meant those words in every thing that I have, my whole entity and soul if you will. I’m not even going to actively look for others when I already know you’re my person, the one I’d marry and knock-up after.”

“Bunny!” Sophia laughs in total surprise at the sudden change in angle of their conversation.

“What?” Harry giggles gleefully at the way Sophia widens her eyes at him, “It’s true! Would it suffice you if I say instead: you’re my person, the one I’d marry and love eternally, and in that process of eternal love, I’d knock you up with my children.”

Truly, Sophia has no words left to say to that.

Here goes Harry cheekily smiling at her, just confessed that he feels the same way as Sophia of wanting more. Except his wanting more is apparently way more than Sophia has ever envisioned about with him including babies and knocking her up.

“How about you use the term: get you pregnant, so as to not make me sound like your breeder instead of your future wife who’d bear you our future babies.”

It’s nice to see the etching of surprise on Harry’s face, all movements stilling. He might have thought more when it comes to them and having babies, but Sophia has certainly reached the thoughts of more with them being married and all.

The boy likes everything personalized, placing his name on whatever he can get his hands on. It’s not Sophia’s complete fault that she has developed this amazing idea of being one of those that have Harry’s surname on it.

“First you don’t give me my joke in my Christmas Cracker,” Harry points out, “and then now you’re tempting me about marriage, and domesticity with you? That’s rather cruel, sunflower. Don’t tell me things like that if you can’t take the extent of sharing the name ‘Styles’. I’ll have it, me, imprinted on you in whatever way I can.”

Harry said Sophia was cruel, Sophia thinks she’s far from it. However, she can make that Christmas wish of his come true.

“How about we start with you imprinting your name on my lips?” Sophia’s question further solidifies Harry’s flabbergasted stupor, “Snog me silly until all I can only remember is your name?”

Harry actually groans at the clear jab at his earlier note, forehead dropping back against Sophia’s, breathing heavily at the latter’s smirking face.

“I like that you’re acting this confident, winding me up so easily after knowing my real feelings for you. But I can’t just simply kiss you without knowing how you feel. I’m not going to be cross if you genuinely do not think of me in that w-”

Sophia rolls her eyes in the hardest way she has ever done so, cutting Harry’s words of utter shit with her own.

“I love you, bunny. I’m in love with you, you idiot.”

And then she’s crashing her waiting lips on Harry’s, levitating on the kitchen floor of the bungalow when Sophia’s finally got a taste of Harry’s sweet, plump lips. No teeth or nipping, just the wet and silky glide of tongues and lips as they both savored each other’s sugary taste, their hands roaming each other’s bodies in loving caresses, nothing brash or heated.

Sophia allows Harry to adore her in this novel way, his lips not leaving any inch of her skin as Harry moves it to litter sweet kisses on the entirety of her face. Sophia, basking in all the loving attention she’s getting from her bunny, could never comprehend that this is how good it would feel when she finally got that more, finally brave enough to to reach for that more.

Harry’s kisses are that good that the last thing Sophia has in her mind before Harry carries her to the living room to continue making-out, is how she just found a deeper love for her favorite Christmas song.

It would make perfect sense later on when she finally gets Harry to make a Christmas song because he’s an easily flustered sap for Sophia. Would do about anything for her like making a cover of Mistletoe because it reminds her of that life-altering time when they confessed their love for each other that one Christmas Eve.

It’s the 25th of December, Christmas morning.

Not like any Christmas morning though. This year, Sophia and Harry don’t find the need to rush downstairs to gobble-up the fake Santa treats they’ve essentially saved for them to make it in time for the opening of presents with their family.

This Christmas morning, Sophia and Harry don’t need to go down any stairs as the two fell asleep in each other’s arms at the couch in the living room after making-out all night with the telly showing Home Alone becoming their background noise. At least it shows that they actually tried to detach from each other, but Sophia couldn’t just continue watching Kevin’s mom frantically realize he was missing in the airport when Harry was right there beside her, sneaking kisses on her neck and collarbone by pulling at the edge of her garish Christmas jumper.

This Christmas morning, the pair also don’t need to rush anything because it’s their first Christmas alone, just the two of them. Pressies can wait under the tree that is just in front of them in the living room. They need more time to spend with each other in this new chapter of their relationship without the chaos of torn gift wrappers and heartfelt Christmas cards from friends and family.

But, the most distinct feature of this year’s Christmas morning is that Sophia and Harry do not have the specific appetite to eat their sweet, Christmas spread. Harry for one, is up for a different delicacy this morning.

“I’m going to eat you out. I’m craving for your pussy this Christmas morning.”

That’s the same sentence that greeted Sophia this morning upon waking-up, feeling the cold seep between Harry’s warm body plastered on top of her. It was snowing outside that’s why Harry’s body heat and the heating of the house was not enough to soothe her cold self, but Harry didn't give her ample time to get another blanket upstairs when her bunny began giving her unrelenting kisses.

And then those kisses turned heated way too quickly, the cold situation turning ironic because instead of getting more layers to warm them up, Sophia and Harry are discarding their matching ugly Christmas jumpers, pyjama bottoms following next until they’re both just down in their underwear.

Except Sophia has her knickers pushed to the side now, Harry kneeling on the carpeted floor with Sophia perched at the edge of the couch breathing heavy moans as Harry’s ravenous tongue leaves wet licks and loud sucks on her pussy lips.

“Good?” Harry asks in that grave morning voice of his, Sophia realizing how much more tingles it delivers to her soul knowing that deep drawl is also laced with that of want, and arousal for her.

“Yeah.” Sophia replies breathlessly, “Holy shit.” she suddenly curses after Harry blows air on her spread-open cunt, everything in full display for Harry.

Harry chuckles at her winded reaction, fingers coming into action through gently rubbing and toying of her pussy lips, never prodding inside despite the wetness leaking out of Sophia clearly suggesting she needs more.

“I haven’t even touched that special button of yours and I’m already getting all the sweet noises from you.”

That makes Sophia open her eyes from being closed as she lazed on the feeling of Harry spreading her wetness at the entire surface of her pink, puffy mound.

She gives him a deadpan look, “My clit.”

Harry stares up at her from where he’s back to licking at her cunt, the traces of her early pleasure staining the full of his lips, “Yeah, you’re special button.” he repeats.

Sophia rolls her eyes, “My clit. Don’t call it a ‘special button’ that’s like so cheesy and so not hot, bunny.”

That makes Harry chuckle because he’s apparently the type of person who laughs during sex when their partner tries to say what she does and doesn’t like. Sophia is given no time to criticize his choice of words when she feels her pussy being spread wider than it already was.

“Okay,” Harry smirks from where he’s got his fingers unfurling Sophia’s cunt like some never-ending wrapped pressie, “Let’s see if I hear any more complaints when I get my lips on your clit now.”

Sophia knows with the way Harry’s got her pussy lips spread open, that her clit is definitely in full display for him. But, it’s still a shock to her entire system when Harry dives down straight to the sensitive nub, lips puckered like a vacuum as Harry sucked deep, and hard on her clit without regard for the sudden spurt of viscous wetness releasing from Sophia at the deep cutting pleasure of finally getting some action on her clit. The thick wetness surely stained the couch and hit Harry’s chin.

“Oh, oh god.” Sophia mewls when Harry removes his lips from her clit only to smile devilishly at her wrecked state with her wetness lingering at his lips. Harry quickly gathers the thick gush that came out from Sophia earlier, furiously scooping some and rubbing it on her now highly sensitive and swollen clit.

“Fuck, jesus christ..oh bunny.” Sophia moans loudly, eyes closing due to the intense intoxication Harry’s giving her cunt, and that fiery green gaze pointed on her naked, pleased form, is enough to intensify everything.

“Open your eyes, sunflower.” Harry says encouragingly, tone laced with firmness that Sophia could not fathom to ignore. “I need to see your eyes when I make you feel good with just my hands and mouth. Wouldn’t want my baby to miss everything I’m going to do for her.”

Sophia already knew that Harry is generally a people pleaser, finds comfort and joy in making people receive some semblance of pleasure from being around him or from something he’s done for them. She just didn’t realized how that facet of his is escalated when it comes to the realm of sexual pleasure.

She gets front row seats right now though, Harry’s plump lips back to suctioning her clit, two of his massive fingers now breaching the opening of her pussy lips, her unrelenting gush of wetness making it easy to enter her hot, throbbing cunt.

“Oh my god, you’re insane, oh bloody shit!” Sophia cries when Harry sucks hard on her clit, tongue pressing hard on the sensitive button just as the same time as his fingers began ramming her pussy in the fastest and deepest way it has ever been finger-fucked.

What makes Sophia’s cries of pleasure ring louder, is Harry’s potent stare with his green, wide eyes burning holes in Sophia’s delirious tinted irises. The unmistakable look of simmering desire is present in his gaze, the most prominent one though is Harry’s heady gaze of wanting to hear Sophia praise his amazing, world-shattering actions he’s doing for her.

“You’re so good, so amazing, bunny.” Sophia moans out, hands reaching down, curling in a tight fist Harry’s messy locks, “Yeah, fuck me like that with your mouth..jesus! Your fingers are so deep, my pussy is going to be gaping wide after this, oh..oh god that’s so fucking good!”

Harry groans at the last bit of Sophia’s comment, fingers crooking inside her cunt in that spongy, soul-numbing spot inside her. That toe-curling feeling spurs Sophia with her words.

“You like that? You like to hear how my pussy is going to be so gaped, been fucked so good just after your big fingers being inside my soaked pussy? Those fucking amazing fingers meant for my cunt to get fucked on?”

Sophia’s met with a harsh nip to her clit making her screech in utter ecstasy as the pain and pleasure collide in one massive collision of goodness. She thinks that it better be that good from all the F-bombs she’s throwing.

“I bet,” Sophia continues after gaining back her breath, “you’d love it even more that my pussy is so open from how thoroughly deep you’ve fucked me that you can just stick your cock inside me without any problem. Do you like the thought of that bunny? My dripping pussy needing your cock inside to feel me up? I thi-BLOODY HELL!”

Another thing Sophia learns is just a mention of Harry’s cock being anywhere near Sophia’s pussy, apparently makes her bunny a fucking beast of a sexual being. Sophia screams in surprise when Harry all but rips the cotton of her panties, freeing her modesty from any restraints.

Harry is literally rubbing Sophia’s pussy raw, as he quickly replaced his mouth on her clit with his other hand. Now having furious attention on her clit, and Harry’s merciless fingers fucking deep insider her pulsating cunt, Sophia is left crying in pleasure on the couch. Hands grasped tightly on the white sheet-cover, mouth perpetually hanging open watching Harry’s smug, devious smile.

“I think that was enough talking for you, sunflower.” Harry rasps, hands not stopping their ministrations on her pussy like the total dark magic that he is, the sloshing wet sound of his fingers digging deeper into her cunt is echoing around the room. “Now I need you to come like a good girl because you deserve it from giving me so many kind words earlier. Too kind in fact that I think you also deserve to get fuck on my cock after this. Do you like the thought of that, sunflower?”

Harry’s taunting words of her earlier statement is the last thing Sophia registers before she’s babbling words of sexual fervor. Her back arching as she chases Harry’s unrelenting pounding fingers every time it so much as retracts even just a centimeter from the inside of her searing cunt.

“Yes, please. Fuck, please bunny!” Sophia cries, feeling her stomach coil in her near release, chasing her nearing orgasm by moving her lower body to meet Harry’s soaked fingers unabashedly. “Please fuck me, bunny!”

“Aren’t I already doing so, huh baby?” Harry chuckles darkly, index and thumb pinching her clit as Sophia turns to an absolute mess of shrieking moans.

“Yes, yes!” Sophia chants deliriously, body rocking faster, wanting his fingers deeper into her cunt. “Wanna get fucked by your cock later. My pussy needs to be impaled by your big cock so bad, bunny please! Please fuck me! Fuckmefuckmefuckm-”

And that Harry did.

Sophia wasn’t even able to finish her ardent cursing as she feels everything drip out of her like a fucking stream of sexual zenith.

“Fucking hell!” Harry curses loudly as Sophia’s thick ropes of cum coats his entire hand that he slowly removed from her flushed red, throbbing raw pussy. The strings of her release sticking in every small crevice of Harry’s large hand.

“I told you,” Sophia says while catching her breath, tired and sated smile on her lips. “I don’t need much prep if you just wanted to stick it in earlier.” She slumps her tired body on the warm couch, the cushions feeling toasty despite the clear signs of the snow falling that’s peeking at the living room’s small window.

Sophia blames Harry for making her feel too warm during winter in England, and the audacity of the man to make her sweat on Christmas morning is simply preposterous.

Speaking of said man, Harry had stood-up from his kneeling position on the floor, eyes rolling at Sophia’s earlier comment with his own pleased smile giving away no real trace of annoyance.

“Sunflower, I think I made it pretty clear after that,” Harry purses his lips to point at Sophia’s still uncovered modesty, the latter finding no shame of being arse-naked in front of Harry now that they’re both clear with what they want in their relationship. Having her cum-covered cunt on full display seems to be appreciated in Harry’s hungry lingering stares anyway.

“I wasn’t exactly under the intention of just preparing you for my dick.” Harry notes further, winking at Sophia’s still heaving body, “Baby, you better get used to my pussy cravings because now that I’ve gotten a taste of you, this,” he brings his whole palm up for emphasis, his big paw that’s covered in Sophia’s creamy wetness, “simply won’t be enough.”

And Harry brings his littlest finger to his mouth, widely opening, tongue-first as he sucks on his little digit obscenely making through work of cleaning Sophia’s release on that single finger. The lewd popping sound as he releases his pinky from his mouth is the only thing Sophia’s ardor clouded soul can comprehend.

Sophia misses the first few words Harry says with that devious tilt back on his features, only catching the latter part of his remark.

“You ready?” Harry asks in clear anticipation.

“Huh?” Sophia dumbly replies because that’s apparently what sex with her best friend does to her: lust-loopy, desire-dumb, sex-speechless.

Harry knows what he’s doing to her, the visceral effect of their first intimate rendezvous not lost in his too-proud glinting eyes, “I was asking if you were ready for my cock? Because I didn’t just want to assume that having your legs exposed like that is a clear invitation for my prick to just stick it right in your leaking, open hole.”

Harry’s slightly mocking tone of Sophia’s early statement was more of an awakening push than the blatant crudeness of his chosen words. She sits up her slouched body, bringing her legs up as she plants both feet on the couch with no single intent of closing her legs together like a demure lady who’s trying hard to get. In fact, Sophia makes sure her legs are opened wide at its maximum, hands gently gripping the sides of her knees to showcase her flexibility as she pulls it backwards to bare more of her messy pussy to Harry with her knees nearly touching the backrest of the couch.

The desired effect is not lost, Harry’s eyes widening and glowing darker just a tad more from how it’s already been. Sophia wants more though, wants that blazing fire back on his gems like the same way it had scorched her skin when she had said all that filth earlier straight to his face as Harry ate her out like it’s the most delicious Christmas feast ever.

So Sophia decides to cup her own wet mound in answer to Harry’s previous question, eyes purposely rounding innocently as she bats her long lashes at Harry’s smoldering pools of green. Said focused beams are now stuck looking at Sophia’s dainty fingers spreading her own release at the entirety of her pussy, making everything messier down there. Sophia delivers a sound and stinging tap directly to her clit, the wet sound reverberates mingled with Sophia’s hungered whine.

“Bunny, how many times to I have to cry-out in pleasure for you to really fuck me that would make you actually take out your cock? You’re seriously so overdressed right now.”

Harry groans in a symphony of arousal and agony, Sophia can only imagine how his dick probably hurts from still being restrained in his Polar bear-printed boxers because he’s an actual child who takes Christmas outfits very seriously even down to his pants. Except that what Sophia sees is nowhere near innocence with how obscenely Harry is tenting said festive boxers.

Harry doesn’t even reply to her clear teasing, just quickly takes to action by freeing his cock from any more barriers. Sophia almost fears that she’d rendered Harry banter-less which is a big no-no considering she loves that side of Harry so much. The table turns quite drastically though, Sophia being the one proper voiceless upon Harry’s succeeding shameless actions.

The moment Harry’s boxers are thrown somewhere around the living room, his extremely hard cock springs straight-up to his toned stomach, pre-come trickling from the engorged tip of his cock smearing just slightly above his belly button. The whole girth of his huge prick is flushed red, Sophia licking her lips in brazen delight at the resemblance of its dark hue from a candy cane, thinking of how much she would want to have a lick of Harry’s dick instead of the minty treat.

Those wishful thoughts stay as wishes in Sophia’s dismay as Harry proceeds to take a hold of his own cock, clearly missing the entire prerogative of Christmas which is the spirit of gift giving and he just took away Sophia’s morning gift of being able to get her mouth on that thick and loaded length just for his own pleasure.

But then Harry does the most unprecedented thing you can ever do on Christmas morning.

Harry begins to jerk his cock off using his palm that’s still covered in Sophia’s cum. How the fuck has her wetness not dried yet?

Sophia’s eyes bug-out of its sockets at the extremely glorious and dirty image standing in front of her. Harry has his head thrown back in pleasure, long chocolate locks slightly shielding his sweaty, pleasure-contorted face as his hand that’s coated with Sophia’s creamy substances kept moving up and down in a frenzied manner.

Sophia actually whines while watching Harry vulgarly jerk his own cock off and illicit moans of sexual rapture by his own doing.

It’s simply un-fucking-fair is what it is and Sophia makes sure it doesn’t stay that way any longer, whimpering loudly in a tone of honest distress which gives her the opportunity to get Harry’s desire-painted eyes back on her, where they should be.

“Bunny, you really have to fuck me already with your cock before I actually start crying!”

It was enough of a threat to get Harry lunging on her naked form on the couch. Body colliding with hers as Harry takes seat on the gap between her widely parted thighs. Sophia’s moan of surprised delight at Harry accidentally pressing his proud-standing cock on her bare folds is masked by Harry enveloping her mouth with a straight out passion-riddled kiss.

Sophia absolutely melts at the attention of Harry’s eager kisses that she’s missed from her pussy having it undivided time earlier. Just like most things involving Harry’s mouth, his pink broad tongue is out in complete keenness as it seeks to lick, flick, and tangle with Sophia’s own. The kissing is wet and messy, Harry’s cock is still pressed firmly on Sophia’s throbbing folds from how plastered their naked torsos are, letting moans of pleasure leave their lips whenever the tip of his leaking dick comes into contact with her sensitive clit.

Sophia has to stop Harry from the clear trajectory of his next action, big paws already dropping down to cup Sophia’s breasts.

“Baby, please.” Sophia says in a shaky tone, catching her breath as Harry bends his head downward to capture a nipple of hers to his searing mouth, green blazed eyes locking on hers. Sophia moans, eyes closing for a minute as Harry expertly circles her rosy bud with his avid tongue.

“Bunny, please.” Sophia repeats more purposefully, trembling hands coming up to clutch on Harry’s dark curls to pull his sinful mouth away from her breast. “No more, want your dick in me already.”

Harry listens straight away, lips leaving one last deep suck on her nipple that makes Sophia’s toes curl at the heady feeling. The popping noise and the string of saliva connecting Harry’s lips from her tit brings Sophia back in the present, mind still hazy but clear enough to still notice Harry’s stupidly handsome smirk back on his dimpled cheeks.

“Are you sure, sunflower?” Harry asks unhelpfully, “Are you really ready for me to put it in?” and the twat intentionally rocks his body forward for the tip of his stiff cock to slide on Sophia’s constantly wet pussy lips just enough for Sophia to feel the ghost of his leaking tip at her winking opening.

If the resounding high-pitched moan that Sophia releases can be any indication, Sophia answers Harry’s annoying question by moving her body to further hump on his cock that frustratingly just glides on her pussy lips instead of breaching her cunt like where it’s supposed to be.

“Bloody shit,” Sophia whimpers, head thrown back at the couch as Harry can’t resist to grind with her movements, “is this enough for an answer for you to fucking get on with it already?”

And because Sophia will actually sob in utter agony if Harry even makes a cheeky comment as a response, she proposes,

“Bunny, I’d let you eat me out again later after you’ve properly fuck me. But please, I just need you already.”

That halts any of Harry’s movements. Sophia doesn’t know if it’s because her bunny is a wild boy that enjoys orally pleasuring women that he made a Grammy-winning song about it, or because the mention of Sophia needing him, always gets him weak at the knees trying to quickly comply with her wishes to make her feel better whether for sexual inhibitions or not.

Harry nods his head, sharp jawline clenching in determination as he eyes Sophia with the softest look he has ever given her since the start of their first intimate moment. Sophia’s heart absurdly flutters at the sudden shift of their sexually-charged bubble to that of a sugary, pillow sweet one.

“Okay, sunflower. You have me.” Harry’s smile is gentle, the excited spark in his eyes is not missed nor unmatched in Sophia’s own. “I’ll just go and get some condoms upstairs.” he says, standing up far too quickly for Sophia’s still passion-pureed brain.

“Bunny, stop!” Sophia whines in alarm, “Don’t leave me!”

Stark naked and still outrageously hard Harry, standing right by the arch of the living room entrance, would be funny in any other situations. But right now, Sophia feels nowhere near any sense of jest. Harry seems to pick-up on that note too, the pair always working and thinking as a unit.

“Sunflower, I’m not leaving you,” Harry placates Sophia, though unmoving from his position of leaving. “Baby, I’m just going to get some supplies upstairs because I didn’t really expect to have Christmas morning sex with you.”

Sophia’s brows furrow, “What supplies do you need?”

Harry looks amused at her question, “The condoms, sunflower. They’re upstairs.”

That makes Sophia pout, “Why do you need to get condoms? Are we not doing it bare?”

If Harry wasn’t already weak at the knees earlier from Sophia saying she needs him, then hearing Sophia’s question makes him look like he’s literally, about to drop on his knees in shock. Sophia giggles in her own amusement when Harry braces himself by finding hold on the sides of the archway of the living room wall as he almost stumbled on his feet from Sophia’s casual words.

Harry actually groans at her, green eyes big and pleading, “Baby. Don’t talk about going bare with me when you’re only joking, that’s not nice at all.”

Smirking, Sophia tilts her head in interest, “Who said I was joking? I want you to fuck me bare, bunny.” she says in pure honesty.

The expression of solid surprise displayed on Harry’s face is like he’s just hearing everything for the first time again. It’s also not missed in the way he stutters his next words.

“A-are you sure, sunflower? Cause I..I’ve never done it ba-bare before. Ha-have you?”

It's a genuine question, Sophia is aware. But it’s kind of really rude for her best friend to think that her Harry-Styles-forever-beating heart would even ever consider having someone else do her bare except him.

That’s why the fiery tone couldn’t be hidden in Sophia’s voice as she says, “Of fucking course, I haven’t! Why the fuck would you think I’d let anyone do me bare when you’re the one I’d been dreaming to have inside me like that since I knew what sex with someone you love sounded like.”

And that’s maybe a big confession-bomb to drop in this moment considering Harry’s still rock hard and naked across the living room for her, but Sophia rejoices in the way her answer made Harry curse loudly.

“Bloody hell, you’re killing me with your words, sunflower!”

Because Sophia lives for killing Harry’s confident demeanor every once in a while, she asks with a raised brow, “Why? Have you had sex without a condom before that’s why you don’t want to be my first anymore?”

Harry actually gasps in wounded offense, “Fuck no! That never even crossed my mind except when it’s you that I’m picturing having bare sex with while I’m jerking off in some hotel room or shit.”

Interesting information, Sophia notes, smirking at Harry’s flustered state, “Then it’s settled. We’ll be each other’s first and last bare sex experience, right now this Christmas morning!” because she’s happy, Sophia claps her hands in excitement.

But Harry wants to remain a twat and asks, “Are you really sure about this sunflower? Like this is a big relationship stuff we’re going to pass and we haven’t even been intimate together except for today.”

Sophia rolls her eyes, “Yes, I’m so sure about this, bunny. I don’t know about you, but my soul has been pretty much committed to you since I knew I loved you more than friends. Having sex without a condom is not some big thing for me to think or even do anymore when it comes to you.”

The way Harry straightens his body upward is a clear indication he’s preening from Sophia’s words, “Really?” he asks dreamily, like his cock is not impressively still hard for him to be warranted such a gentle tone, “That’s so sweet, baby. But how do you even know I’m clean?”

Sophia groans in growing frustration, “Why are you asking so many questions? I know you’re clean because Jeff gave me your medical results before you went on tour.”

Harry frowns, “Why the hell would Jeff give you that?”

“Because you wouldn’t take it back after he already used it for work purposes and he hates clutter so he gave it to me.”

“Still. That doesn’t excuse the fact that it’s invasion of my privacy that he just willingly gave my medical resu-”

“Are we seriously going to be arguing over Jeff or do you not want to see your cum leaking out of my cunt?”

Not even a second later and a growling Harry is cornering Sophia on the couch looking like the ravenous sexual beast he was at the beginning of their fucking.

Sophia’s putty under Harry’s firm hands as he easily manhandles her by flipping her laxed body on the couch, stomach and chest pressed tightly on the soft cushions while Sophia feels Harry kneel in between her flat legs.

“You asking me if I want to see my cum leak out of your pussy?” Harry suddenly rasps on Sophia’s ear, his body heat looming above her arching back as he carefully but firmly gathers her blonde locks and pulls at it for Sophia’s blissed-out face to look directly at his.

Sophia only whimpers wantonly after seeing Harry’s starving eyes, nodding her head when Harry tightens his grasp around it, eyelids threatening to close at the shot of burning rapture shooting up her spine.

“Words, baby. I need to hear your pretty voice.” Harry instructs, lips curling into a devious smirk at the way his words had made Sophia’s eyes dilate in passion-filled wonder.

“Yes.” Sophia whispers, mesmerized by Harry’s eyes, “Yes. I want your cum to leak out of my pussy.”

Harry chuckles at her answer, “That wasn’t really an answer to my question but it does confirm my suspicions that you’re really gagging for my cock, huh, sunflower?”

“Yes, yes I want it please.” Sophia cries shamelessly, willing her body to move to be able to face Harry’s body fully and just take a hold of his cock and ram it inside her hungry hole already.

“Na-uh.” Harry says, gently pushing her head back on the cushions of the couch as he removes his hold around her hair, “I want you on your belly when I first fuck my cock in you, sunflower. Need to see how good you take me later when I fuck you from behind.”

“Oh fuck!” Sophia moans with her mouth wide-open as Harry surprised her by guiding the engorged head of his cock to rub on her pussy lips like earlier.

“Yeah?” Harry chuckled darkly at her shameless reaction, “I haven’t even done anything yet and you're already sounding so needy.”

Sophia doesn’t attempt to even stifle her ear-piercing moans when she feels and hears Harry spit on her pussy from behind, mercilessly rubbing his own trickling cock on the raw folds of her sensitive cunt.

“Please, please. Bunny, please!” Sophia is reduced into pathetic pleads not even a full minute of Harry teasing her already fluttering hole, starving for his cock.

“What, sunflower? What do you need from me?”

“Your cock! Need you to stuff me full, bunny! Need your big cock to fill my fucking hole and just take me, please!”

Sophia shivers when she hears Harry’s loud moan from behind her laid-out form, gasps in surprise and delight at the way Harry’s heavy hands began to knead and grasp her arse cheeks, the deep pleasure of feeling Harry’s firm and quick slaps at the plumpness of her behind makes Sophia cry in euphoria.

“Fuck.” Harry curses intensely, “You have one filthy mouth, sunflower. Fuck. I can’t take it anymore, I need to fill you already, baby.”

Sophia might have just died at that moment. Too blissed out in need for Harry that hearing him say that’s he’s fucking going to put it inside her already, has Sophia seeing the gates of heaven in her closed-pleased eyes.

Though Sophia’s not that angelic to miss being properly fucked bare for the first time so she just calls out for Harry in desperate need, “Bunny, need you near me please. Go on my back, baby. I need to touch you, need you near me, pleasepleasepl-”

“Okay, okay, sunflower, I’m here.” Harry complies quickly at Sophia’s wretched cries, his entire body fitting above Sophia’s back confirming the latter’s assumption that their bodies are really made to fit perfectly when snuggled together as she savors their warm contact, limbs and souls now entangled in a lovely mess.

Except this isn’t anything like the innocent cuddling the pair have always done since they were seven. Right now, it’s Harry’s naked torso pressed tightly on Sophia’s naked back pinning her on the couch with his whole body, his muscular tattooed arms coming up to weigh down on Sophia’s own that’s outstretched above her head. Hands finding each other to grasp tightly, fingers filling the gap of any miniscule space that doesn’t connect Sophia and Harry together.

Harry’s weight above her is a welcome touch, Sophia sighing in contentment at how secure she feels having Harry’s skin glued to hers in the most intimate way possible. If she wasn’t quite so greedy, Sophia would think this was already enough to satisfy her needs.

But ever since she’s decided that she’d gladly be in Santa’s naughty list this year just to give Harry’s present of seeing his own cum dripping out of her sated pussy, Sophia takes no shame in wiggling her ass where Harry’s cock has found solace at its crease, indicating her need to still be filled by him.

“Baby, please?” Sophia noses at Harry’s cheek from where his head is resting on the side of her own, eagerly rubbing her face on any surface of Harry’s stubbled cheek and jaw that she can reach.

It doesn’t take anymore pleading for Harry before he’s whispering, “Alright, sunflower. I’m going to give it to you now. I love you, my baby.” and because he’s the real angel between the two of them (though a devil in the sheets without a doubt, don’t you let him fool anyone), Harry reverently maps kisses on Sophia’s cheeks before reaching her temple and leaving that last sweet one she’s always loved and dearly cherished.

And then Sophia feels him moving from behind, body never leaving hers as he takes care of connecting them fully. It doesn’t even give Sophia a moment to take a deep breath in when she feels Harry scooping some of her steady coming wetness to coat his cock, and then its sizable head is finally breaching her pussy lips.

“Oh my god,” Sophia exhales in a breathy satisfaction as Harry slowly pushes his entire length inside her, the grunts leaving his lips not missed from how close Harry’s face is resting on the side of hers.

So pinned close to her space that Sophia can see from the corner of her eye how Harry’s expressive handsome face has formed into that one of immense satisfaction when his entire length has sheathed her core, bottomed out snugly. The same rational-numbing pleasure shoots up in Sophia’s system feeling how deep Harry is inside her.

“Fucking hell, you’re so tight. So warm, sunflower.” Harry rasps in a tone of pained ecstasy, hips slowly rabbiting his cock in and out of Sophia in deep driven fashion.

Sophia moans at the heady sensation of feeling Harry envelop her everywhere, his cock ramming in her pussy is accompanied by Harry’s lips littering the skin of her nape, the side of her neck, face, and every single inch of her heated skin that his kiss-bruised lips can reach with adoring kisses and hungered bites.

Unlike their earlier tryst of filthy passion with Harry messily going down on her, Sophia doesn’t need to offer any provocative words to get Harry in that headspace of unbridled desire.

It’s the resounding silence of their intimate moment, with Sophia’s breathy moans and unrelenting litany of pleased whimpers that drives Harry to plaster himself tighter on Sophia’s back, hips moving faster and faster for his cock to reach every single crevice in Sophia’s cunt.

It’s Sophia breathing ‘I love yous’ on his sweat-slicked skin that got Harry to pound harder and deeper into her pussy, their bodies dancing in the same pattern as the couch rocks together with their visceral movements.

It’s the way Harry takes the time to reply, ‘I love you always, can’t believe I can have you like this.’ for every single time Sophia cries words of adoration on his skin that’s got Sophia meeting each and every thrust Harry gives her. The sound of skin slapping on skin and the growing scent of pure arousal around the room, clouds over all the senses of the pair.

That’s why it’s no surprise that when Sophia finds her lips capturing Harry’s little ear to suck hotly, whispering the words, ‘I love you forever, baby. You have me as long as you want me,’ while Harry continues his unceasing hard, ardent thrusts, it makes him release the most refined noise of fulfillment.

Who would have thought that those genuine words of love is what ignites the spirit of a literal sex god embody Harry, cock furiously pounding into Sophia’s soaked cunt, his hand finding place on her hips to help her bounce back more eagerly than by her tired self.

“Oh my god,” Sophia mewls, body feeling passion-possessed as it rabbitted back to Harry’s every forceful thrusts, his lips that never left any surface of her skin sucking bites the more his momentum of fucking her pussy quickened. “oh my god, bunny.”

“Fuck!” Harry curses, most probably feeling Sophia’s insanely pulsating cunt clamping tight on his prick, indication that she’s nearing her release.

What takes Sophia hurling into the cliff of her orgasm is the moment Harry sneakily slid his hand under Sophia’s body. Catching her in total surprise when Harry suddenly pinches her clit so hard Sophia might actually have blacked-out for a second from the ultimate concoction of pain and pleasure that it brought her.

Sophia’s release bursts out of her, body trembling from head to toe. She can feel the thick, warm wetness gushing out, can hear how it affects Harry not only from the slick sounds it produces of their skin slapping together with Harry’s continuous pumping of his cock in and out of her, but also in the way Harry whimpers sharply in exhilaration straight to her ear that he’s nibbling.

Sex with Harry, is a spiritual experience, Sophia thinks with her eyes closed as she basks in the moment Harry’s pounding stopped into that glorious last deep thrust, his thick length twitching before warm cum begins to spill out deep spurts inside of Sophia’s womb.

Sophia has always thought that once she attains a relationship with Harry that goes beyond the platonic realms of their friendship, she couldn’t possibly want anything more.

She’s finding herself wrong once again.

Sex with Harry has opened Sophia’s eyes to new rooms of possibilities. Wanting more can’t even describe the fathomless extent of what she wants, needs sex with Harry to be.

Though unlike her pining dilemmas, this one might not even be a point of problem when Harry’s effortlessly flipping her sated body to rest on her back, mischievous eyes giving her a wink before his diving down once again, tongue out and feeding their combined releases back inside Sophia’s spent pussy as it started to trickle down her parted thighs.

“Merry Christmas, my baby sunflower.” Harry cheekily whispers to her cunt more than Sophia herself, his eager to please mouth clamps down to lap and prod at Sophia’s leaking, gaped pussy.

Sophia can’t be blamed when her return greeting of ‘Merry Christmas, bunny’ was less of heartfelt words and more of a screech of sexed-out exuberance.

Harry is definitely not complaining from the looks of it as he gets Sophia to squirt directly on his face less than three minutes after that. Extremely messy face grinning smugly like a madman saying,

“Merry Christmas, you filthy animal.”

After Sophia and Harry have gotten cleaned up and all that jazz after their Christmas rendezvous, Sophia feels slightly grumpy for being ordered by Harry to sit back on the now clean couch in just a pair of fresh knickers (unripped, thank you very much Harry) and one of their heavy wool blankets to protect her bare skin from the cold.

You see, Sophia understands the appeal of feeling comfortable and free in your own skin without any clothes. She even has subscribed to the notion that she’d effortlessly shed the majority of her clothes when she’s in the confines of her or Harry’s home because now the both of them can enjoy that intimate time together with literally no barriers between them.

All that, Sophia will allow. What she doesn’t understand is the fact that Harry sees the steady fall of snow in every window of the bungalow and yet he insists to get Sophia with nothing but her new festive red cheeky panties, bundled only with a woolen blanket like it’s not bloody winter and the temperature isn’t constantly dropping low to a freezing cold.

“Bunny, I’m literally going to freeze my fucking nips off because of you.” Sophia huffs out in annoyance, Harry’s fresh pair of Christmas baubles-printed boxers the only thing she can see from the man in question as he’s bum is literally the only thing on display with his bended form finding something under the Christmas tree.

“Stop being dramatic,” Harry replies, attention still not on Sophia’s pouting face, “I swear just a few minutes more. I’m just looking for the specific present I need you to open.”

“You need me to open a pressie with just my knickers on?” Sophia asks in a tone of disbelief.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“I’m really going to swat your festive clad bum if you still don’t find that fucking thing your looking for in the next ten seconds.”

It’s clearly a joke, but Sophia finds delight in seeing Harry sprang into action making his search quicker than necessary. He’s for sure tired from all their fucking spree just moments ago, but Sophia thinks Harry kind of deserves some teasing after not only making Sophia come down the stairs with nothing but her panties, but also for the fact that he gatekeeped her from having their Christmas breakfast. Don’t you dare think for even a second that Sophia forgot the special sweet treats they prepared last night, dick-drunk or not.

Since Harry wanted to do presents first before having their delicious feast of edible food this time, Sophia asks Harry to also fetch her gift for him under the tree before he excitedly plops his own self beside her on the couch. Sophia’s pout ceases when Harry instantly raises his arm in clear invitation to burrow on his side.

Sophia and Harry have never been one for material gifts after realizing that the best gift they can ever give each other is to just simply spend time together. It was a hard pill to swallow on both ends when they realized their passions in life also meant spending less and less time together as a unit. That’s why it had always been an imperative of a pressie to cuddle each other on whatever soft surface their accommodations offer them in whatever country they were currently in.

But their deep care and love for each other couldn’t just lose the idea of spoiling one another with simple gifts that go beyond being together during the holiday season. Sophia in particular is actually quite keen to see Harry’s reaction when he opens the large emerald green, glittery paper bag that contains his gift this year.

They exchange parcels after reluctantly letting go of each other’s warm orbit in order to have space to open their gifts. Harry clapped his hands with excited sparkling eyes as he carefully put a hold on Sophia’s gift for him that’s now resting on his lap.

“You go first, sunflower.” Harry smiles at her. His words are the total opposite of what a younger Harry would have said to a less eager kid Sophia when it’s opening presents time. Even at a young age, Sophia was more drawn to the Christmas food waiting at her parent’s kitchen while Harry was the quintessential gift-excited kid awake at the crack of dawn, jumping at his parents bed to cause the usual Christmas morning mayhem.

Sophia would have agreed easily to Harry’s request, except for the fact that she really wants to see and savor Harry’s reaction when he opens his gift before her mind gets sidetracked to whatever amazing goodie Harry had given her this year. Knowing the man pretty well, he’s never one to pick ‘go small’ over ‘go big’ when it comes to anything holiday related, or anything to dote and spoil Sophia with really.

If she just wasn’t feeling the cold break into the warm barrier of her soft blanket, Sophia would have indulged with a back and forth of ‘No bunny, you go first. Nope, you go first sunflower. Na-uh bunny, you first. Sunflower, you’re the one who’s supposed to open your pressie first’ type of annoying banter that’s essentially flirting once Sophia has acknowledged that she has been openly flirting with Harry every time none of them wanted to drop the call first during her pathetic longing days.

Sophia chooses to compromise after all, saying, “Bunny, let’s just open our gifts at the same time before we actually catch hypothermia because of your dorky and borderline highly dangerous antics that I really don’t fucking know how you get me to do.”

Harry laughs, the jovial sound pushing warmth in Sophia’s chilly skin making her shiver at how disgustingly cheesy the boy has influenced her to feel.

“Ever the smart one, my sunflower. Just not one when I unleash my puppy eyes and my irresistible pout.” Harry winks, Sophia only rolling her eyes because the boy’s not lying and she has no strength to put up a fight and deny it fruitlessly.

The two of them do a countdown from three to zero, matching gleeful eyes locking together before reaching the end of the countdown and dropping their focus on each other’s laps.

If it was even possible, Christmas just got a lot crazier than matching confession of love, and mindblowing morning sex.

Sophia and Harry look at each other with the same dumbstruck expression carved on their faces, each other’s gifts now unwrapped and within their hold.

“For fucks sake.” The two of them simultaneously breath out in surprise, surprising themselves even more when they unintentionally just uttered the same words verbatim. They break into childish giggles, eyes maneuvering down to their coincidentally, matching gifts.

“I can’t believe we got the same thing for each other,” Sophia marvels, the black Gucci x Balenciaga Hacker BB puffer jacket soft on her fingertips, cold crisp skin itching to wear the absolute cloud of warmth.

Sophia doesn’t hesitate in doing so, especially when Harry already has his matching designer puffer jacket in the color beige this time, already covering his shirtless torso. Now Sophia has actually caught up with why Harry had wanted them to open their gifts first in nothing but tiny underwear covering their modesty.

“I can’t believe you’re the one who got the last beige one!” Harry suddenly exclaimed, index finger pointing in accusation at a gasping Sophia who’s now bundled in the warm and soft fluff of her new puffer jacket, the lower half of her face contently being shielded from Harry’s harsh words.

“Excuse you?!”

“Yeah, it was you!” Harry affirms, offending finger that’s back with its signature ring still directed at Sophia. “I was supposed to get the beige one for myself while I gifted you the black one. But Lambert said someone already got the last beige one. And that’s apparently you, you sneaky little thing.” Harry snides, head shaking in distrust as he folds his arms across his puffed chest.

Sophia narrows her eyes at Harry, “Well I was supposed to get the black one for myself, and then Lamby said the last piece was already reserved for someone else. And that’s you, you sly bugger.”

Harry dramatically gasps, both ringed hands coming to rest on his chest, “How very dare you call me that this Christmas morning? Your audacity to call my stylist to do your gift shopping is extremely audacious!”

Sophia rolls her eyes, “Lamby is your stylist, made total sense because he knew your size.”

“And you don’t?”

“Of course I do!” Sophia actually gets hit by that one since she has been buying Harry gifts that fit him perfectly even during the years that his sudden growth spurts make his sizing complicated. She doesn’t need any help from anyone to properly dress her bunny, thank you very much.

“Then why didn’t you just buy the jacket on the rack itself?” Harry questions with a raised brow.

Sophia doesn’t back down on the challenge. “Because Lambert has direct contact with Gucci already. Why didn’t you just buy it in the store too?”

“Because contrary to you, Lambert is actually my stylist. He works for me.”

“And that includes doing your Christmas shopping for you?” Sophia scoffs, smirking, “Be thankful that Lamby’s too kind to scold your lazy arse when it comes to pressie shopping.”

“Am not lazy!” Harry defends, pouting, “Lambert likes buying me clothes so he did it out of his freewill and enjoyment.”

“Well Lamby enjoys dressing me up too so I don’t see the problem of asking him to get me a special gift.”

“But he’s not your stylist!”

“Doesn’t matter!”

“Does too!”

“The fucking head of Gucci love me more than you so I get more rights of buying the puffer jackets than you, hah!”

Silence resurfaces after Sophia heatedly spilled those words. The latter, a mixture of embarrassed - for her childish outburst - and amused - for Harry’s jaw dropped on the floor in a flabbergasted nature.

And then Harry’s giggling, escalating quickly to his honking laughter as Sophia amazedly watches him contort his body in this direction to that in complete paralyzing laughter.

“Fucking hell!” Harry lets out, hands thumbing away the little tears of laughter that fell from his cheery eyes. “Sunflower, I have to give you that one,” he surrenders with his palms raised, “I can’t argue with your statement with how much I’m reminded everyday that Lallo loves you more than me every time you wear that necklace on your neck.”

The wistful sigh of disappointment Harry breathes out, triggers Sophia in her own spiraling laughter.

It’s true, is the thing. Alessandro Michelle’s utter adoration for Harry was quickly transferred to Sophia after they had first met in Italy when Harry brought her along with him for the Gucci Cruise collection that year. Lallo and Sophia had clicked instantly, the two abandoning a pouting Harry on that trip to spend some quality time alone to get a better grasp of each other as Alessandro toured Sophia around the local towns in Rome.

Their close friendship was further solidified when Alessandro had surprised Sophia with her own initials in a jewelry piece that he usually gifts to his loved ones. Unlike every other person who gets them in a set of two rings, Sophia got her chunky gold initials in the form of a necklace.

Sophia thinks it’s rather adorable how Harry had acted wounded like a neglected kitten when Lallo had first clasped the necklace around her neck over a dinner the three of them had when their friend was visiting London. But she thinks it’s rather unfair that because of the tangible proof that Lallo loves Sophia more, Harry has made it his job to not invite Sophia to any Gucci related trips he needs to attend, even going the extra mile of prohibiting Sophia to fly to Italy without him.

It’s not like Sophia was going to replace Harry as her bestest friend in the world just because the head of Gucci got her a special necklace. She tells the same thing to a sulking Harry every time the man admits feeling slightly threatened that Sophia spending more alone time with Alessandro would make her realize how much of a better friend he is than Harry.

The idea itself was just simply preposterous, Sophia taking her time to say and show Harry it was impossible for anything like that to happen, can’t plainly fathom flying to another country just to cuddle anyone else other than Harry.

Thankfully Sophia doesn’t have to do anything strenuous to do the same thing right now.

“You know that I love you more, right?” Sophia smiles, making grabby hands at an unmoving, pouting Harry.

“I guess.” Harry shrugs, ignoring Sophia’s blatant needy little noises for him. “But you still love Lallo a lot, too.”

“Bunny,” Sophia giggles at Harry’s stubbornness, “I’m in-love with you, baby. Is that enough for you to come and smother me with your hugs now?”

Unlike Sophia, Harry makes it much easier for her to see whenever he gets affected by her words. His little ears are pinking right now, a clear sign of flusteredness making Sophia giggle harder under the confines of her fluffy puffer jacket.

Harry is launching himself on Sophia not even a minute later. The abrupt movement and their matching puffer jackets colliding together, causes Sophia to fall on her back to lie down on the cushions of the couch. The pair’s laughter echoed around the room as Harry made himself at home atop Sophia’s body, tangling their limbs together as Harry sneaked his nose inside the neck of Sophia’s warm cocoon to nuzzle his cold nose on the soft skin of her neck.

Sophia hisses at the chilly contact, smiling like an idiot when Harry warms her up again by leaving a searing kiss on her neck, no doubt littered with lovebites from their earlier bouts of pleasure.

“I love it when you call me baby.” Harry confesses quietly on Sophia’s skin, the latter’s hands finding its way to card through Harry’s messy curls in a soothing pattern.

“Hm.” Sophia hums, “So does that mean you don’t want me to call you bunny anymore?”

Harry’s answer of a ‘no’ is displaced by the unexpected movement of Harry’s lower half accidentally nudging against Sophia’s still barely covered modesty of her little knickers that can’t be covered by Harry’s pressie for her. The now familiar sensation makes Sophia moan and Harry to still.

“I don’t think it’s fitting to stop calling you bunny when it seems like you want to fuck like bunnies.” and Sophia makes it a point by raising her lower half to grind on Harry’s half-chubbed length.

“Sunflower!” Harry admonishes the laughing minx, “Stop teasing or I might actually get hard enough to just slip it in again.” he’s wiggling his eyebrows, no real attempts of taking their teasing any further.

Sophia’s lips curl upwards at Harry’s usual display of ridiculousness. It’s comforting to know that despite having discovered the passion-potent and extremely crass route that their intimate moments together can lead to, their ridiculous banter and cheeky comments aimed at each other is not lost whilst keeping close and snuggled in each other’s secure auras.

Wrapping one long curly lock on her pointer finger, Sophia says, “Not allowed to enter me until you tell me you’re in-love with me too.”

It sounds more like a demand than anything else, but Harry is giving Sophia this soft hued look that makes it seem as if he had just melted into a puddle of love goo just from Sophia’s words. It’s kind of an unnerving sight to see, Sophia having always thought that only Harry had that ability to render her entire being into pure mush, just from the simple touches and actions that Harry never thought meant a lot more to Sophia than nonsensical sweet nothings.

Harry’s lips are on Sophia’s not a moment later, her bunny kissing her like it was the only appropriate thing to do.

Their lips disconnect just enough for Harry to mouth the words on her spit-slicked lips.

“I love you too, sunflower. I’m in-love with you, my baby.”

Sophia is not capable of holding back her lips from latching onto Harry’s once again, the two easily meeting in another round of sweet sucks and gentle presses of plump lips.

“I love you too, bunny. So much.” Sophia exhales, Harry’s lips trailing kisses from the side of her mouth, to the entire expanse of her left cheek, until he reaches her temple where he lands that treasured peck.

Like second nature, Sophia tilts her head upwards to nose along Harry’s own, the cold tip of her button nose circling affectionately at Harry’s similar chilly pink ones.

“I love you,” Harry whispers again, “but that doesn’t mean I’d let you get away with out-gifting me that easily.”

Without a doubt, Sophia did not have a clue of what Harry said to her before he cheekily grabbed her bare bum to instruct her to get up and head to the kitchen.

Accidentally (it was fate) buying each other the same Christmas gifts, noting that they’re also rather expensive, doesn’t really equal the concept of anyone out-gifting anyone. It’s plainly a stupid idea without even needing to think about it.

Sophia wasn’t sure what she was expecting when Harry had held her cold hand and placed it inside the front pouch of his beige puffer jacket while they walked the short distance to the kitchen.

It definitely wasn’t the Christmas feast perfectly arranged on the kitchen counter that has the potential of rivaling the holiday feast at Hogwarts.

Well, maybe Sophia was exaggerating. The assortment of festive-printed and bright colored tins and boxes that came from Trader Joe’s, isn’t exactly anywhere near fancy nor magical than the self-replenishing food at the Great Hall of the wizarding school.

But it’s the meaning behind the food that ultimately matters.

“You remembered also?” Sophia turns to Harry, holding hands clutching tightly as her gaze and voice pierces him with unadulterated wonder.

“That you wanted to have some taste of American Christmas and how you’ve always wanted to do a holiday shopping spree at Trader Joe’s?” Harry asks, smiling adoringly at an awestruck Sophia who’s got her head tilted up like Harry had just hung the moon and the stars right in front of her eyes.

“Yeah, I did.” Harry answered his own question, admission more bashful than confident unlike his ordinary expression.

The red flush on Harry’s little ears poking out of his dark curls makes Sophia coo.

“Bunny, you’re so sweet.” Sophia titters, highly endeared and feeling nothing but happy swirls in her tummy at Harry’s adorable shyness for being the best person in the world. “I love you a lot.”

Sophia raises to her tiptoes, asking for a kiss which Harry gladly returns in a heartbeat. Soft, closed lips pressing into one another in blissful contact.

Sophia thumbs at Harry’s dimple softly, “Mind giving me a tour of your holiday selections, baby?”

Harry joyfully pulls her to the kitchen counter, hands dropping to her hips as he helps Sophia to sit up on the marbled counter itself. Harry lets Sophia get her excited hands on the various Christmas treats from America.

He tells her the story of how he had convinced Jeff to raid the holiday goodies at Trader Joe’s in LA right as the store had opened to prevent from getting stopped by fans. Sophia laughs learning that it was the morning after the end of the tour party, Harry heating-up the mince pies they bought yesterday in the oven while sharing to Sophia that Jeff almost puked in the middle of the holiday aisle in the grocery from being so hungover.

“And you weren’t in the same state?” Sophia asks, opening the tin of Trader Joe’s Jingle Jangle, eyes instantly caught by the chocolate-covered popcorn, popping it straight to her mouth as a pleased sound leaves her lips.

“Of course not,” Harry answers, bringing to the counter their plate of warm mince pies. “I left the party earlier so we can have our own FaceTime party, remember?”

Instead of replying, Sophia picks-up another of the chocolate-covered popcorn, motioning for Harry to open his mouth as she feeds it to him.

“Oh, that’s good.” Harry hums in the same pleased tone as Sophia’s. “Dark chocolate?”

“I think so.” Sophia says, stuffing her mouth this time with a mini pretzel also coated with chocolate, dainty fingers feeding Harry’s waiting mouth as well. “And how could I forget our sleeping FaceTime party. No wonder you were feeling fine as a peach the next morning.”

“Heyyy..” Harry whines, dimples still indented on his cheeks while he fits himself on Sophia’s parted thighs, “I said I was sorry for falling asleep in the middle of our call. I sang Kiwi two times that night.”

“And you sang it three times on your first tour and you still had the energy to dance with me on the dance floor at that after party while Toxic by Britney Spears played.”

Harry smiles at her fondly, thumb coming up to wipe-off the chocolate crumbs on the side of her lips, “We owned that dance floor, how could I forget?”

Sophia also doesn’t know how, and she makes sure that it doesn’t happen again as they reminisce and trade their favorite tour stories while opening the other boxes and tins to taste test the other holiday goodies. Harry’s mouth, perpetually open for Sophia to feed a candy cane chocolate-covered almond, or a piece of the peppermint bark. Harry on the other hand, contently gives the two of them breaks from the sweet treats to feed himself and Sophia with pieces of their savory mince pie and the carrot slices Sophia cut for them last night, she knew it would come in handy.

Harry had just finished showing Sophia some of the selfies he took with baby Rowland during his freshly completed tour when Sophia gave him a pleading look all of a sudden.

Harry chuckles, recognizing those wide-set eyes without any context needed, “What do you want, sunflower?”

Sophia curls her lips in a cute smile, “May you please make us hot chocolate using these magnificent babies?” She holds up the box of Trader Joe’s Hot Cocoa Ornaments. “These glittery baubles are calling for my name.”

Harry chuckles, large hand on her thighs squeezing lovingly, “And what are you going to do while I slave-away and make us some hot cuppas of glittery cocoa?”

“I don’t know?” Sophia shrugs her shoulders playfully, “Open the tins of our half-finished Quality Street and Celebrations while I guard our Christmas sugar cookies from last night?”

Harry’s merry laughter is squished in Sophia’s smiling lips as he kisses her soundly, green dreamy-tinted eyes leaving Sophia a soft look before turning his back on her and begins fetching some Christmas themed mugs on top of the cupboards.

Sophia sighs in pure happiness, legs swinging back and forth as she quietly watches Harry move around the kitchen; a sight she's seen a million times already but has never failed to make her heart flutter and butterflies roam freely inside her entire being.

Domestic Harry Styles is in a whole completely different category than everything good in life.

Sophia’s in-love with her best friend.

How can she not feel like she’s swimming in a pool of affection as Harry happily stirs their cups of hot chocolate like it’s the most fulfilling thing to do, words dripping with care as he softly tells Sophia to be careful of the steaming drink. The clear admiration in his eyes when he watched Sophia take the first sip as if he’d rather drink in her happy little slits of blue eyes, hands reaching to feed Sophia one of their Christmas cookies, the action filled with true devotion at how simply sacred it felt for Harry to attend to her in such a simple, regular way.

Sophia never imagined that hugging, warmed bodies completely flushed together in the kitchen while slowly swaying to a non-existent music, can actually be a reality to some few, to her. It’s so cheesy and cliché like something a sappy Harry will write about in his songs.

Except right now, clutched tightly in each other’s blissfully warm energies, slow dancing in their pants and matching puffer jackets with no real thought behind it, eyes trained on the clear sliding doors of the bungalow as they watched the flecks of snow falling slowly outside their own imperfectly beautiful Winter Wonderland, Harry’s not singing sweet words about being domestic and twirling Sophia this way and that as he kept an arm around her floating form while they glided across the heated kitchen floors.

Harry Styles is peacefully humming Mistletoe directly on Sophia’s ear, singing the following words like a litany of whispered prayer, worshiping her.

“Kiss me underneath the mistletoe,

Show your Bunny that you love him so-oh-oh, oh, oh, oh.”

Sophia doesn’t need a mistletoe to show her bunny that she loves him, worships him just the same with no sugary sweet words or dulcet tones of Christmas tunes serenading him back.

She proves it to him by standing on her tiptoes to kiss his temple like how Harry had first shown his love for her. Will always show his love for his person.

"Show your Bunny that you love him so-oh-oh.." - Chapter Two

The Second Serving of Cranberry Sausage Rolls 🎄

- Story Masterpost for the other chapters

“Oh my god, I think I’m in paradise.”

Sophia moans out together with Harry, their eyelids that have shut during their first bite, savoring the initial burst of flavor of the cranberry sausage rolls, open in an instant, locking at each other’s gaze of surprise at their exact same utterance of food pleasure.

“I knew you were my best friend for a reason!” Harry joyfully calls out, finishing his first roll in just two bites, and to be honest, Sophia isn’t far behind.

“I can’t argue with you on that note,” Sophia gladly reaches out on the box of cranberry sausage rolls in front of the two of them for her second one, “Thank the lord they’ve added tables and chairs to sit on around here. I don’t think I’m quite young to be going around the Christmas market without any time to rest my tired legs.”

“I’m the one with the bad back,” Harry shares around his second roll, third ready and waiting on his right hand, “and I’m not even complaining.”

“That’s because you’re already stuffing your face with pure goodness.” Sophia protests, shaking her hands together to remove any crumbs from the puff pastry of the sausage roll, “If we had waited just a few more minutes without already getting our favorite Christmas snack, you’d for sure be a right grump already.”

“Not true.”

“So is- hey!” Sophia does not hesitate to slap away Harry’s sneaky hand trying to get her third roll. The box only had six cranberry sausage rolls and they promised to share one box so they only got three each. “Don’t be greedy, bunny. The last one’s mine cause you already ate the last of your share.”

Harry narrows his eyes at Sophia, brows pulled together in contemplation as his right hand remained atop the last cranberry sausage roll on the sadly too empty box. Sophia arches her own brow at him, a look of challenge not missed on her features as her own dainty hand remained wrapped around Harry’s wrist trying to stop his earlier actions of deception.

“Fine.” Harry relents, bottom lip sticking out on a pout, “Why do you always get the last piece, anyway? Seems unfair to me.”

Sophia just giggles at Harry’s ridiculous act of petulance as she happily takes a bite of her cranberry sausage roll that she is the rightful owner of.

“Since when have I always been the person who gets the last piece of heaven?”

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugs his shoulder from where he’s sitting in front of Sophia on the table, arms folded across his chest with his pout still going strong like the absolute picture of stubbornness, “like all the time our families have been here every Christmas? Better yet, the first time we ever met and you already got the last piece they sold that day. I don’t know about you, but that last point of mine already speaks volumes about your character.”

After Harry mentions that, Sophia can’t help but feel a surge of utter fondness take over her system every time someone mentions the day Harry and her had first met ever in their lives.

To reiterate an earlier thought, Sophia and Harry actually met in the same Cheshire Christmas Market that they’re visiting now, only back when they were young children whose only problem was to get the last order of the cranberry sausage rolls. That might still be a problem for present day Harry and Sophia, but the latter won’t cry because of it anymore.

Sophia can’t really remember anything clear that she might have done that day except for the moment she had first met Harry.

She remembers it was also Christmas Eve when her and her parents went to the Christmas market, but what she did specifically before asking permission and some cash from her parents to buy these heavenly rolls, has been lost from her memory.

It’s not the first time Sophia had ever been in the market, so after a few more of her impatient mumbling at her parents telling them to wrap-up their shopping for them to finally buy her sausage rolls she’s been whining for, Sophia’s parents allowed her to go to the stall herself. Since it was only two stalls across from where her parents were getting their items wrapped, Sophia and her parents all felt comfortable allowing her some little independence that she didn’t have much at that age.

Sophia remembers happily skipping her way to the stall, her parents calling out to tell her to be careful because it was lightly snowing and she might slip on the floor from all her excited energy.

She didn’t fall for the record, and had safely arrived at the sausage rolls kiosk with her cold gloved hands pressing close in awe at the glass display, containing the freshly baked treats.

Though she can’t say the same thing from the kid that seemed to run at full speed to the kiosk. Sophia still feels that woosh in the nippy air from how fast this kid had run, so fast that he almost slipped before finding his balance through also placing his hands on the glass case where Sophia’s hands were still smoothed over, feeling the heat of the freshly baked sausage rolls permeating the wool of her small gloved hands.

The kid that almost slipped turned out to be Harry.

But at that time, all Sophia knew about him was that he was the kid wearing a similar puffer jacket like her, only in a baby blue color while hers was in a soft dusty pink tone. Harry was pretty covered up from the cold winter weather like her, so Sophia remembers landing her eyes on his cherubic face.

Harry’s cheeks were rounded, flushed a light red due to the cold, little specks of snow had fallen on the tips of his nose, big green eyes filled with her same twinkling spark of elation as they stayed trained on the sausage rolls in front of them.

Sophia was so captivated by this young boy, interest had now fallen on the curls poking out his knitted cream beanie that she misses her turn to order, only breaking from her immersed state after the lady had replied to her that there were no cranberry sausage rolls left and the child beside her had already gotten the last box.

All the shimmering Christmas lights around her only intensified the sudden red that Sophia saw upon hearing those god-awful words.

Eyes narrowing at the vibrating excited nerves of a little bundled-up boy beside her, Sophia had seethed on his side profile, “But I was here first.”

The young boy had probably felt that the words were directed at him, a smiling gaze turning towards Sophia only to be replaced by an arch of the brow, “Na-uh, I was here first.”

The sass of his tone made Sophia frown, small arms crossing above her puffed jacket, “No, liar! I was here first! I saw you almost slipping before going here, so obviously I was already here first.”

The young boy’s expression turned to that of complete shock like she had just insulted him, “I’m not a liar! Only naughty boys are liars and my mummy said I’m not one! You’re the liar because I didn’t slip! I’ve been working on my balance with my sister because mummy said I can be quite clumsy!”

Sophia remembers feeling confused on what in the world was the kid talking about? A similar feeling she would often feel later on in the following years of her life. But his tone of accusation was what little Sophia had zeroed on, the harsh tone had only made her frown deepen, and don’t think she didn’t hear him calling her a liar.

“I’m not the liar here!” Sophia had defended in the same hard tone she had been using that any seven-year olds can be proud of themselves to have gained, “You could even ask the kind lady here and she’d say I was here first.”

The unwavering confidence in Sophia’s tone caught up on the young boy as the look on his face definitely suggested he knew Sophia was in the right there, that she’s the one being truthful in that moment.

But like many times after that fateful day, Sophia would learn how absolutely stubborn the young boy was.

“Well, maybe you were here first but I didn’t hear you order. So that means I still get the last cranberry sausage rolls, and that you’re still the liar!”

That had actually made sense to the young Sophia, her pout emerged just as her brows pulled even deeper together while she thought of something to say to the annoying boy who kept calling her a liar. It’s not good to be called a liar at that age, that’s basically one of the biggest sins one can commit at that age so there was no way Sophia was just going to let this boy tell lies about her character.

Sophia was a total angel at seven-years old. Complete with the blonde locks and melodious, high pitched voice.

But before Sophia could even reply back, the young boy had begun to remove his own frown and turned it into that of a mischievous smile before saying the most hurtful words that he could ever say to Sophia even years later now that they’re best friends for life.

“I really can’t be the liar here because my mummy said naughty boys don’t get gifts from Santa, so I’ve been a good boy because I want my pressies from Father Christmas.” and in the most way anyone can ever look, this kid arched his brow at Sophia condescendingly, “But I’m not sure if I can say the same thing about you because you’ve been lying and naughty liars don’t deserve cranberry sausage rolls, or gifts from Santa. So your cheeky attitude, as my sister likes to call it, doesn't deserve any baked goods, and your naughty behavior won’t get you any gifts from Father Christmas either. How sad?”

Sophia will tell you how.

It’s one thing to be denied access to cranberry sausage rolls, and a complete other horrendous thing to be told that she won’t be getting any gifts from Father Christmas! Seven-year old Sophia had basically been told that she’d committed the biggest sin in her Christmas bible and now she has to pay the consequences for something vile that she didn’t even do!

It’s not a shocker to anyone when big, fat tears begin to fall from Sophia’s eyes, and Harry should be downright alarmed for what he had caused.

The sinister part of Sophia today, does an evil laugh at remembering Harry’s panic-stricken expression once young Sophia had let the dams out as she sobbed her little, seven-year old crushed heart from the extremely mean things that young foolish Harry had said to her.

What always makes Sophia stop in her tracks when reminiscing this story, is when she remembers how her crying had ceased the instant young Harry had pulled her to his chest in a hug, just seconds later that he had caused the offending drops to begin with. She can still feel even years later, the abrupt shot of comfort that hug gave her, always gives her whenever they embrace today. The closest thing Sophia can describe the emotion is that her entire soul feels like it’s being blanketed by the finest knitted blanket, made out of the softest yarn that leaves tender touches on her skin like gentle fingertips tapping warmth on every inch of her cold surface.

It’s everything that her child wondered mind had the ability to focus on.

Sophia and Harry’s parents came to them not a few minutes later, she remembers hearing their concerned calls only to be brought closer on the young boy’s hold, her own arms circling back on his body when it still allowed her to do so easily as at that time, Harry was not yet the giant that he is today.

Everything seemed too much for little Sophia, not really registering anything except the young boy’s whispered apologies on her cold ears, her own body hiccupping from her earlier crying fit. She can’t even pin-point how they’re parents got them to disentangle from their hug, or how the boy had recapped what had happened to their parents on why Sophia had been upset.

The next thing Sophia can clearly distinguish was when the young boy introduced himself to her.

“I’m Harry.” his earlier mischievous glint had been replaced by an ethereal smile, glove covered hand extending to Sophia as if he hadn’t just been a complete little devil to her earlier.

The quick change was so bizarre to little Sophia that she let out a mixture of a hiccup and a squeak which resulted in little giggles coming out of Harry’s mouth. Sophia returns his giggle when Harry waves his still extended hand at her, reminding her that she had yet to introduce herself.

Smiling now despite her apparent red and blotchy face from crying, Sophia returned Harry’s handshake as she replied, “I’m Sophia.”

And just like everything that had occurred after Harry had made her burst into tears, Harry acts as if nothing of such had even took place as he easily placed his small arm around Sophia’s shoulders making them both face the kind lady behind the sausage roll stand who had been watching their entire exchange (how embarrassing, Sophia of today now thinks) and Harry had said to the lady:

“Hi! I’m still going to get the cranberry sausage rolls, please. But I’m going to give it to Sophia here because I’ve been really mean to her and mummy says I should never be unkind to anybody and say mean things even if that means I can’t have my share of cranberry sausage rolls.”

In Sophia’s opinion, that had been the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her at the darling age of seven. She can’t say it’s the sweetest thing Harry had ever told her like ever, she does particularly think that having ‘cranberry sausage rolls’ in the sentence just can’t be justified as the candy sugary thing he had said to her in the entire time they’ve known each other.

Regardless, that statement had been the stepping-stone to their friendship as Anne invited them to dinner that night as a form of apology from her son’s actions.

And that had been that.

Present day Sophia and Harry fastened their eyes on each other once again after Sophia had reminisced the first time they met years ago. But since they have this weird connection where both of them at random times of the day seem to just have an excellent grasp on what the other is thinking, Harry continues Sophia’s train of thought like he was just going down memory lane right beside her.

“And after that dinner mum had done in apology for my foolish actions, I continued to be stupid and let you hold me captive for the next how many years.”

Sophia laughs, “How very dare you. If there was anyone holding anyone captive, it'd be you.”

“I don’t think so,” Harry shakes his head, growing angelic locks swaying along the movement making him run a hand through them to smooth the curls away from his eyes, “I was the angel that gave you the last box of cranberry sausage rolls.”

“Only because you had ruined my Christmas Eve that year!” Sophia defends with utmost conviction. “You’re no angel if you’ve done something out of pure guilt.”

“And that’s exactly my point!” Harry triumphs, making Sophia totally confused once again because he just agreed to her without any fight.

“What’s your point there, bunny? You literally just admitted that I’m the angel in this friendship, and you’re the devil that ruined my sweet, seven-year old’s Christmas Eve.”

“You wish!” Harry snorts, putting all their rubbish on the empty sausage roll box, “What I’m trying to say is that you just admitted that you always get the last of the cranberry sausage rolls.”

Of course that’s what he had been referring to, it’s not like Sophia had just gone for a long tangent about how they met in her head and became slightly sentimental about their friendship and how even back then, there were already signs of how much Harry would mean to her.

Of course it didn’t matter that she just realized how much that first fateful day made everything much clearer that Harry was someone special in her life, and it’s totally not the platonic type of special.

“Is it my fault though if you willingly give me the last piece all the time?” Sophia questions, her own hands running up to fix her hair in an attempt to shake her thoughts away.

That makes Harry think for a moment, Sophia giggling when he begins to do that thing with his thumb and index finger, squeezing his bottom lip when he’s in deep thought.

“I think it depends,” Harry slowly draws out, “because what if I don’t actually willingly give it, and you’re just forcing me to do it without me knowing that you are coercing me into doing it.”

Guffawing at his ridiculous statement, Sophia replies, “How can I even coerce you to do something for me without you knowing I was doing it?”

Harry casually shrugs, “I don’t know.” and then he gives her this cheesy smile that he always does when something incredibly sappy comes out of his mouth, “Maybe it’s your undeniable love that’s making me do it without me knowing I’m already giving you the last piece of heaven.”

Rolling her eyes every time Harry says something even remotely sickeningly syrupy, Sophia responds with a soft smile still etched on her face. “I think it’s more that you love me undeniably so you’ll willingly give me the last piece of heaven, no coercion needed.”

Harry’s reply after that, makes Sophia bolts out and off her seat to drag the laughing Harry to the skating rink without any time to spare for all the butterflies he had just unknowingly awoken inside her belly.

“Of course, I love my sunflower baby.”

Fuck. Sophia was actually blushing.

“Bunny, come here, please! Tie my skates for me.”

Sophia smiles innocently up at Harry while sitting on the bench waiting for him to drop to his knees and follow her request, her skates already waiting for him on the ground.

Harry chuckles, eyeing her in amusement, “And why would I do that?”

Sophia blinks her lashes extra fast for it to be anything but innocence, “Because I’m your best friend and you care about me.”

“Try again,” Harry smiles with his arms crossed on his chest, Sophia noticing his own skates already laced on his feet, the quick bugger.

Sophia shows her pearly whites and honestly replies this time, “Because the Harries need an updated footage of you tying someone’s skates like that in the Night Changes music video.”

Harry looks as if he did not expect that answer, brows pulling close on his forehead probably thinking back to what he did at that specific 1D music video. Sophia swears Harry has locked that certain part of his life away at the recess of his mind, not even able to give Sophia an answer when she had once asked if she could borrow that suit he wore for the 2015 AMAs to wear at the first nights of Love on Tour.

Harry had seriously asked her in total confusion what suit she was referring about, like what the fuck? Harry Styles who loves all his fancy suits like his own little infants, can’t remember that iconic, white floral Gucci suit that gave the Harries the first taste of what was to come on the start of his solo era? That’s bloody preposterous!

Thank heavens Harry Lambert had come and saved the day. Sophia ends up wearing the suit, minus the pants because it can’t fit her waist and Sophia’s not one for public indecency, unlike Harry with his tits out for thousands to see.

The first show of Love on Tour had Sophia preening in all the acclaim and compliments people gave her (and they remember where the suit came from, hah!) despite Harry’s protests that all praises should be thrown at him because it was his tour, thus he was the only star of the show. No matter what he kept on saying though, Sophia still felt the all-night stares of Harry on her form, dressed in his suit, every time they were in the same room. His green orbs filled with silent praises that can’t compete with any kind words that Sophia had gotten that night.

Harry’s unrelenting looks of fondness and appreciation was definitely no good for Sophia’s pining heart, but give the girl a rest is what she thought. That night in Vegas, Sophia did not give a fuck if she basked in Harry’s sweet glances and rapt attention with an air of casualness than her usual frenzied state.

“Sunflower,” Harry chuckles when it finally clicked on his grandpa-like head, “you’re so odd sometimes.”

And you're always forgetful, is the tip on Sophia’s tongue, stopping herself from teasing Harry or they will take ages before he finally accepts her request. “Whatever you want to say, bunny. My toes are waiting for some loving.”

Sophia raises her feet slightly, wiggling her toes just the same with her eyebrows in a ridiculous manner making Harry chuckle at her attempt at being hilarious.

Harry sighs before slowly crouching down on his knees, “The things I do for you, really.”

“Correction, for me and the Harries, bunny.”

Sophia just giggles as Harry begins to gently take her polka dotted sock-covered feet and places it inside her rented skates. Sophia delightfully opens the camera application from her phone, telling Harry to pose for pictures while tying her silver laces.

“I don’t think I was even posing in that video, sunflower.” Harry lightly chides when Sophia asks him for the fourth time to do cute poses for the camera.

“Well at least you were smiling there,” Sophia notes, bending over a little to fix the longer curls on Harry’s head that are falling on his eyes, head bent low attending to Sophia’s skates. “Come on, bunny. Just smile for me, please?”

Harry sighs once again, but Sophia does not deter from her conviction of getting Harry to smile for her camera when she sees the unmistakable entertained little curve on Harry’s lips.

“It is the Christmas season of giving after all,” is all Harry says before he finally indulges Sophia’s wishes and does his usual charming and adorable cutie face for her camera.

It’s times like this that Sophia thinks she can honestly survive this Christmas alone with Harry because wanting more didn’t seem to be something that pressing.

When you got Harry Styles tying your shoelaces for you with little to none convincing to accomplish, do you really still need more than that when he’s already doing boyfriend-y things whilst unknowingly?

The Harries seem to think it’s adequate enough as they quickly flooded Sophia’s IG account with messages of thanks for always giving them the ‘best holidayboyfriend!H content’ just after a few minutes of posting it. Sophia on the other hand, falls once again to her own answer: definitely not good enough as she wistfully watches Harry allow himself to get flirted on by the lady on the skate renting kiosk as he went ahead to give their boots for keeping.

If Sophia had more, she wouldn’t need to see such a saddening sight because Harry would not be leaving her side to easily get flirted on like that.

Before Sophia can even shoot daggers towards the irresponsible flirting lady who should be doing more working than eye-fucking, Harry suddenly appears by Sophia’s side, easy smile adorned on his lips.

“Ready to head inside the rink?” He asks, pointing towards the entrance of the circular rink where quite a few are already having a good time skating and swirling around.

Sophia nods her head, trying to school her previously frowning face to mimic Harry’s smile, “Lead the way.”

Harry looks at her for a moment, most probably using his sixth bestie sense that they both got before shrugging his shoulders when he didn’t see anything much odd on her features. Sophia quietly sighs in relief at that, turning one last time to the flirting lady a while ago to give her a squint of her eyes to show her displeasure at the lady’s earlier actions, before walking beside Harry while trying to match his big gigantic strides.

Upon their entrance, Sophia has regained her bright, cheery, and Christmas appropriate demeanor as she gives Harry a cheeky expression, one gloved hand (Harry had forced her to buy some despite her protests of it being a fashion disaster with her current outfit) out-stretched towards Harry in invitation.

“Come here, bunny, hold my hand.”

Harry lifts a brow at her request, dimpling confusedly before following as he laces their both gloved hands together. “What’s this one for this time? Going to film me while we held hands and as I go skating in front of you like the one in the music video as well?”

Sophia shrugs, tilting her head in a look of innocence, “Not really. I just think it’s necessary to hold your hand while we’re skating knowing how your Bambi legs operate on the daily. No matter how long they are, they’re not meant for skating, bunny.”

The clear rib on her tone is not lost from Harry’s ear, the latter breaking-off their hold dramatically. “Oh bugger off! I can fucking skate just fine.”

Sophia laughs loudly at the prominent defensive tone of his voice, “I’m just trying to be careful! No amount of your growth spurt can ever make you outgrow your clumsiness.”

“For fucks sake.” Harry shakes his head in faux annoyance as Sophia continues laughing wholeheartedly without a care of anyone around them, hands on her knees type of glee. “You go calm yourself down while I show you how much of a fab skater I am.” and then he was out skating away with a little wave left for a still giggling Sophia, her cackling laughter returning when Harry abruptly turned around to flip her the bird.

Truth be told, Harry actually isn’t shit at ice-skating. When they were still youngsters and had the time to visit their local ice rinks on the weekends, Harry was the one plastered at Sophia’s side because the latter is actually the one who’s crap at ice-skating.

Harry made sure he had some hold around Sophia the entire time, the latter once again failing to notice how even in those early stages of their friendship, the security and ease Harry’s touch had given her compared to anyone else who had helped her, was a clear indicator that he’s simply something more to her.

Though soon after, Sophia took skating lessons just for the fun of it and despite petulantly missing Harry’s attentive and securing touch on her, the lessons definitely paid off as she joins Harry’s little show-off contest right now.

“That’s unfair! You can’t use techniques from your ice-skating classes!” Harry calls out after Sophia had flawlessly nailed a simple ice-skating sequence she’d learned before and thankfully had not forgotten just to get the chance to see Harry’s ridiculous pout.

“It’s absolutely fair because I never said you learning how to play the guitar was unfair because you didn’t tell me you were going to.”

Sophia’s reply only made Harry pout deeper, “You’re only saying that cause you’re still bitter you didn’t get to spend extra time with Niall unlike me who he taught the basics of guitar playing.”

“Now don’t go rubbing it in!” Sophia gasps as she skates towards Harry’s standing figure at the edge of the rink, taking place beside him, “You know how jealous I get when it comes to sharing that blonde one.”

Harry just rolls his eyes at her, an amused quirk to his pink lips nonetheless, “Well I promise to stop if you promise to have our last five minutes here already cause I’m bloody knackered, sunflower.”

Sophia merely nods, watchful eyes already seeing the lines of tiredness painted on Harry’s flushed face from the cold weather, “Promise, bunny. As long as you also promise we head to dinner right after.” her covered hands go directly to rub her tummy, “I’m quite peckish already.” she pouts.

Harry giggles at her actions, raising a hand towards her direction, “Alright, I promise baby. Let’s seal it then.”

And like the utter children that they are, Sophia returns Harry’s handshake with the utmost look of seriousness reflected on their faces to signify the importance of sealing their promises. It was only proper that they also burst-out in rambunctious laughter because even the most miniscule of things are funny to them, before they turned around and skated for the last few minutes.

This time around, Harry didn't need Sophia to offer her hand for him to take.

Harry just didn’t let go of her hand as they glided on the frozen ice, pure joy bubbling in Sophia’s chest whenever Harry squeezed their clasped hands as if to remind her that, ‘Hey, I’m here, sunflower. I’m not going to let you fall no matter how much of a Bambi I can be. I promise I’m here.’ like all the other times he did at times when Sophia felt so unsure on her own two feet.

Harry made her feel comfortable again, there’s nothing more she can wish for.

Harry likes to be humble in all regards. Earning millions for single shows and guestings can surely be enough to overflow his naturally narcissistic tendencies. With that being said, Harry tries his best to surround himself with things or people that remind him to be grounded. All those have worked in his favor, and there’s never a time Harry had ever exemplified any arrogant action towards Sophia except when it’s done in jest.

The only situation that Harry can actually be just a smidge cocky, is when he takes his loved ones out to some amazing restaurant. He places the reservation under his name that never fails to make him let out a proud smirk whenever the receptionist of the restaurant would call-out, ‘Harry Edward Styles?’ It’s really the only time Harry likes his full name to be said allowed.

Usually, hearing his full name comes in the form of a shout. Never a good sign that one, often it’s Anne or Sophia being cross with him for his usual cheeky escapades. At least it helps in making Harry feel more grounded despite Sophia totally detesting ever feeling upset with her best friend.

Tonight was no different. Harry’s too-proud reply of ‘yes’ matched with his winning smile is exhibited in front of Sophia as tonight’s restaurant receptionist said his full name to check if it was the correct information.

Sophia let’s Harry have his moment of slight arrogance, eyes wandering around the cabin-like atmosphere of the restaurant. She tries to lower down her smile when Harry reaches behind his back, asking Sophia to hold his hands. They follow the receptionist just like that to their table, Harry in front of Sophia with her pressed closely to his back and their hands woven comfortably together.

Sophia gives her thanks to the ever gentleman Harry who pulls a chair out for her before taking his own seat in front of Sophia. She’s not going to lie, all the shopping around the Christmas market, swirls and glides on the ice rink, and the short walk they had to take to go to this restaurant, had made Sophia tired. The restaurant Harry reserved a table for, was just across the entrance of the Cheshire Christmas market, but Sophia isn’t young anymore and effects of jet-lag are not easy to remove despite a whole day of hibernation completed.

Sophia makes sure to place her phone on the surface of the table, having placed an alarm for when they should head back to the Christmas market. The tree lighting of the massive pine tree in the center of the market was due to start in about two hours, Sophia reminding that fact to Harry as they browsed the menu.

“A classic Christmas Eve chicken roast with roasted veggies of potatoes, parsnips, carrots, and beetroots, and with three servings each of Yorkshire pudding?” Harry reads aloud to Sophia, the two of them always having the same choice of Christmas Eve dinner.

“How about a basket of Yorkshire pudding?” Sophia suggests knowingly, making Harry chuckle at the truth behind her words.

“You’re not making this easier for us,” Harry notes, “we already ate a box of sausage rolls earlier.”

“And?” Sophia arches a brow in question, “We both know we’ll still end up ordering another three servings each of Yorkshire pudding once we finish our first three.”

Harry nods his head in agreement, albeit with a dry smile. “My trainer is going to kill me for this sunflower.”

Sophia snorts, “Bunny, it’s Christmas! Eat all the fucking carbs and sweets you want. Better yet, I’d send a picture of our dinner with the basket of Yorkshire pudding to your trainer to show him how much he has starved you.”

Harry laughs at that, raising his hand to call for the waiter. “You don’t even have his number.”

“Wouldn’t stop me.” Sophia confidently shares, “I’d have a word to whoever has kept my bunny away from his bread.”

Harry just shakes his head at her words, the craters on his cheek made prominent by the soft look he’s throwing her way. It gives Sophia time to breathe and not melt on her seat when the waiter that Harry called finally arrived to take their orders, gladly letting Harry take the lead on that one.

Looking around the restaurant and its other patrons, Sophia notes that tonight’s warm atmosphere is the perfect in-between of not being in a fine dining setting, but not one of a rowdy pub either. Sophia finds it to be the ultimate balance fit for her taste.

Tonight’s restaurant allows her the reprieve of not always having to check her posture while eating, nor have the ardent pressure placed on her to know what utensil to use for what specific dish, like in a lot of the places Harry had brought her to before. At the same time, Sophia feels comfortable that she can pop a few buttons of her leather trousers later when the food coma settles in, but she wouldn’t be exactly at ease to burp without a care in the world like what normally happens to her when Harry takes her to a pub and feeds her every greasy item there.

“You pick a good place tonight, bunny.” Sophia shares to Harry after their orders have been taken.

“You haven’t even tasted the food,” Harry replies, which Sophia disregards since it did not miss her attentive eyes how Harry had preened at her compliment for his good choices. The ever people pleaser this man is.

Sophia wasn’t in the mood to take the piss out of Harry after he had deflected the compliment, preferring to converse with him about the last bits of his tour that he had yet to share with her since they’ve both spent their first day back together in bed, cuddling in sleep. She lets Harry talk her ears off about all the backstage shenanigans that occurred between him, the band, and the crew, casually mentioning all the times he’d ‘kindly abducted’ baby Rowland without informing Mitch or either Sarah that he wanted to babysit the newborn.

“I only had pure intentions, sunflower.” Harry defends when Sophia questions the morality of his statement, “I wanted the two of them to have some rest since I know baby Rowland can be quite the menace at night time. Besides, it’s not my fault baby Rowland distracted me with his adorable arm rolls that it completely lost my mind to inform his parents that I was taking him out with me on a walk. Baby Rowland’s arm rolls are simply delectable looking, sunflower! You won’t question me again if you saw it yourself.”

Sophia giggles, still slightly bewildered at Harry’s story, “I’m really going to have a word with your trainer if you found an innocent infant’s arm rolls delectable.”

Harry laughs with his green orbs rolling, “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“So you weren’t thinking of bread rolls or anything?”

Harry’s eyes widen while releasing a loud cackle, “Baby! I’m not exactly the witch from Hansel and Gretel who will eat innocent children like some cannibal. Who do you think I am?”

Sophia catches their order being walked to their table before replying, the perfect time really. “A person who’s too kind to eat innocent infants and really, really nice that he’d give his best friend one of his Yorkshire puddings.”

Her own demure smile clearly does not work as Harry quickly snatches the basket of Yorkshire pudding from the waiter’s tray, obstructing Sophia to reach for them.

“Not a chance, lady!”

Sophia has no room to push her argument as her entire attention begins to be pulled by all the Christmas Eve roast amazingness placed on the surface of their table.

Similar to everything in their friendship, Christmas roasts are also a symphonic task to both Sophia and Harry.

Like clockwork, they push their big plates in the middle of the table. Sophia goes first in practiced ease as she transfers all the beetroot on her plate to Harry’s, and then Harry does the same by placing all his parsnips to Sophia’s own mound of food. After, Harry begins to pour some of his gravy on the assortment of food on his plate, delightfully handing the little gravy pitcher to Sophia, saying her thanks as she pours the remaining on her plate combined with the contents of her own small pitcher.

As per tradition every meal, Sophia meets Harry’s waiting puckered lips that’s reaching for her temple on top of their table, tilting her head for his lips to kiss her there, Sophia’s own nose coming down to brush affectionately at the side of Harry’s in an Eskimos kiss like earlier this morning in the bungalow.

After that sweet gesture, Sophia and Harry began to ignore each other for the pile of holiday goodness in front of them.

Sophia doesn’t know how others do it. Harry and her simply can’t be conversing while eating the mouth-watering Christmas roast. How can they savor the rich flavors of it all if they’re blabbering their mouths to each other? Harry can wait to tell his jokes, and Sophia can take a break from the tedious cycle of taking the piss out of Harry or pining ridiculously over him.

Conversation between the two of them only resumed when Harry had burped loudly, Sophia had wiped her greasy lips with a napkin, and when the both of them popped a button from their own too-tight trousers when the food belly made out of Christmas tastiness began to show.

“I’ve reached the finish line,” Sophia breathes out blissfully, “I survived another Christmas Eve dinner!”

Harry giggles in reply, one of his hands splayed on his bloated stomach, “I’ve begun to show.” he notes before burping once again, “It hasn’t even been an hour after I made love with my savory roasted chicken, had the pleasure of tasting the sweet kiss of the beetroots, and oh god, I can’t forget about the supple touch of my Yorkshire puddings, and now our baby is showing in my stomach. Sunflower, look.”

Sophia tries to control the intensity of her laughter, Harry’s crazy antics is not good for her full stomach. “I can’t believe you just moaned and referenced sex in the presence of all the families here. The children, H.”

“Is in my stomach, I know.” Harry replies nonchalantly, ringed hands rubbing on said body part. “I wonder if mum was also this swollen when she was carrying me in her womb.”

Sophia snorts at his actions, “You’re not actually pregnant. That’s just the food coma hitting you bad and messing with your head.”

“You’re just jealous that my baby bump is bigger than yours.” Harry chides childishly, making Sophia scoff. “Sunflower, let’s show each other our bumps, come on. Let’s be like those mums that take prenatal yoga together.”

Sophia squawks a noise, “Bunny! I’m not doing that, stop being ridiculous!” The perfect distraction for Harry’s persistence comes to Sophia as the surface of her own bloated stomach hits her Gucci bag resting on her lap.

“Oh, the Christmas Crackers!” Sophia lets out, fetching out the pointed edge that nudged her stomach inside the sleek black bag. “Bunny, let's exchange before we head back to the tree lighting. Goodness knows I cannot walk in this state just yet.”

“I agree,” Harry says while reaching inside his coat pocket that’s behind the extra chair on their table, “Little Chicken and I refuse to waddle on the cold streets of Cheshire.”

“I’m not even going to ask why you just named your food baby, but alright!” Sophia claps her hand in unrestrained excitement, smiling brightly at the similarly beaming Harry before they exchange Christmas Crackers over their obliterated Christmas Eve dinner table.

This was another part of Christmas that made Sophia second guess herself when she made the definite decision to spend it alone, a hundred miles away from Harry in the hopes of sparing her bemoaning for more heart.

As part of their celebration in this season of gift giving, Sophia and Harry had made a tradition of getting their own Christmas Crackers customized for each other after they had the means to go the extra mile and replace the truly saddening, generic Christmas Crackers they had growing up. This way, Sophia could receive something better than a keychain, and Harry can write whatever joke he wants, and how many.

He once did 25 jokes equaling 25 pieces of folded paper within the cylinder cracker and Sophia had almost thought he had given her something extra special (like a miniature Gucci bag, perhaps?) from how hefty it looked. She just ended up being slightly disappointed when it was nothing but festive colored pieces of paper that were no better than the napkins Harry scribbled Sophia’s dad jokes on.

Thankfully that this year, there was only one piece of a gold folded paper that fell on the table when Harry gladly helped her pull the other end of her Christmas Cracker he had made specifically for her, the popping sound making them flush in festive cheer. She returns the gesture to Harry’s own cracker that she got freshly made in Australia. But unlike Sophia who then places her folded paper at the side to read last, Harry keenly reached for his red one and focused all his attention there.

Sophia waits for Harry’s reaction before she takes a good look at the contents of her Christmas Cracker. She doesn’t regret her decision when Harry’s previous smile of excitement quickly morphed into that of horror when he read, or did not read, the red paper from Sophia.

“Sunflower!” Harry gasped as if scandalized, “Why is there no joke?! Like there’s nothing written on it! Do I have to go down under to complain myself about this rubbish job they’ve done on my Christmas Cracker?! This has to be some sort of mistake!”

Forget about Sophia’s bloated stomach as she lets her howling laughter take her senses in absolute glee at Harry’s extremely perturbed face. “No, it’s not a mistake. I really instructed them to leave it blank.”

“What?!” Harry exclaims with the look of horror on his face multiplied to a hundred, “Why the fuck did you do that?! Are you nuts?!”

Sophia motions for him to quiet down since she really didn’t want to disturb the families dining along them as she herself tries to calm her on-going laughing spree.

“I’m not nuts,” Sophia defends despite the look of doubt in Harry’s face, “I just wanted to have a laugh myself this time around. You’re always the one shitting your pants from laughing at the jokes I give you, and it only gets amplified when you let me read mine like you’re not that one that gave it to me. It’s good I finally had the taste of what laughter on Christmas Eve feels like.”

Sophia winks at Harry to show some sort of appreciation for taking part in her plan (unknowingly, of course) but the man just gives her a deadpan look.

“You just ruined my Christmas Eve. It’s done for, gone.” Harry harrumphs with arms raised in dramatics before he begins to pointedly ignore Sophia who’s still giggling in her seat.

Harry’s ignoring act only lasts for a couple of seconds though. He’s back to giving appreciative coos to Sophia as he took the time to assess the goodies Sophia had given him this year.

There’s nothing traditional in the Christmas Crackers they got customized except for the little joke folded in a paper. Everything else after that, is unique to them which can be seen as Harry toys around his fingers the new snowman-printed little plastic clips that Sophia gave him with the thought of Harry’s growing chocolate curls in mind. Amongst the little tidbits that Sophia had gifted Harry from a few glitter guitar picks to a miniature crochet rainbow as a case for his AirPods, Harry takes the most giddiness at the koala charm that Sophia had bought in one of the local jewelry stores in Australia.

“Why isn’t there no chain?” Harry pouts at Sophia who has taken her time to watch Harry’s reaction to everything she had given without taking a peek on her own pile of small goodies from Harry.

“Because you never actually take-off your cross necklace so I thought there was no point in giving you a chained-necklace when you don’t like the layering look that much.”

Harry smiles that one they give each other when they want to express, ‘you know me so well, how?’ without really expressing it verbally.

“Then how am I supposed to wear this then?”

“You just attach it to the chain of your cross necklace, gimmie.” Sophia makes grabby hands at Harry’s chest where the infamous cross necklace familiarly rests.

Harry doesn’t waste any time unclasping it from the back of his neck and handing it easily to Sophia’s waiting hands. Her little fingers take no time at all as she expertly slots the end of the chain to the small hole on top of the koala charm. Smiling proudly, Sophia hands Harry’s necklace back to him, telling him to wear it again so they can see the final product.

“Oh, how adorable.” Harry coos with his head dipped downwards, index finger coming up to stroke the back of the koala charm like it actually is a real animal in need of some gentle petting. “Thank you so much, sunflower.”

The undeniable tone of sincerity combined with the soft tone and look on Harry’s smiling face was enough threat for Sophia to duck her own head down so as to not damage her poor combusting heart. She’s not made to withstand this amount of keen attention from Harry after months of her trying to get herself immune from it through the acts of gradual withdrawal of too much contact with the star-eyed boy.

Sophia finds her ultimate escape from getting sucked-in the wonderful pools of green gems that are Harry Styles’ eyes when her downturned eyes catch a glimpse of some of Harry’s gifts for her from the Christmas Cracker he customized.

“Is this what I think it is?” Sophia slowly says with a voice of incredulous fascination, picking up with her finger the item in question.

“Yup!” Harry nods in a gleeful manner as Sophia begins to inspect probably the oddest thing Harry had ever given her. “An air freshener with my face on it! Isn’t that so genius? I had to ask Jeff where they got them so I had some extra made for you.”

“Well, aren't I special?” Sophia mutters sarcastically, “Why in the world do you have your annoying mug on an air freshener, of all things, to begin with?”

“In which angle do I look annoying there?” Harry asks with a confident grin, “I’ll even go ahead and say that my team chose a rather flattering picture of me for the air freshener.”

You always look flattering, Sophia’s traitorous mind supplies when Harry just can’t stop with his slow drawl and answer Sophia’s question before she starts thinking into tricking herself that she really is so special to have received a one of a kind Harry Styles air freshener. Again, of all things rare it’s this one she feels super special about.

“They used some of it for the little Love on Tour vintage van display I had in some of the venues,” Harry supplies as an answer to Sophia’s question. “But, I did make sure to change the scent on yours to that of a lavender one cause I know you like those and they make you feel calm.”

“That is true,” Sophia agrees despite wanting to just plainly be weirded out instead of the fondness trying to seep in her skin at the fact that Harry remembers that she liked lavender scents when having a slight obsession of hoarding different aromas of scented candles would make it difficult for Harry to remember that information.

But of course, he’s just the best at making Sophia’s heart leap out of her chest at the most random of times!

Sophia can’t let Harry know that though, let her have her last Christmas Eve before she lets Harry do the mushiest shit to take the last blow on her weak heart.

“Though I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Sophia clears her love-crazy thoughts aside, “I don’t want to particularly get too calm on the roads that I end up falling asleep and then crashing my car on the next lamppost or something tragic like that.”

Harry merely shrugs, “Nah, I don’t reckon so. Just put your car on self-driving mode, that would do the job.”

Sophia looks at him confusedly, not the first time today that she’s been having the same expression, “What are you talking about? My car does not have that fancy option and you know it Mr. Multimillionaire who doesn’t like cheap sports cars and would rather buy the real, expensive, vintage vehicles.”

When Harry does not take the obvious door for him to take the dig on Sophia having less monetary means than him, Sophia starts to get suspicious. Her worries are not made better by the coy look that flashes on Harry’s face, bottom lip being captured by his teeth like he’s hiding something from her.

And then it clicks.

“Harry Edward Styles, if you got me a fucking Tesla for Christmas I will actually consider ruining your Christmas for good, like it’s going to be your last Christmas ever.”

Instead of getting Harry to fess-up and feeling threatened like Sophia had wished, Harry only whistles teasingly, “Saying my whole name twice in a singular day? I think that’s a new record for you, sunflower.”

Groaning, Sophia continues, “And I’ll say it for the rest of your life, which is ticking down every second that you don’t answer my question about you buying me fucking expensive shit that I don’t need.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know if I did.” Harry smarts back with a wink.

“Considering I asked more than once already, I think it’s a given point that I do wanna know.”

“Well too bad I’m not gonna answer because it’s not pressies time yet baby, wait till tomorrow morning on proper Christmas day.”

Before Sophia can hackle Harry even more to just spit it out, and completely disregarding the fact that him calling her baby has just thrown her off her momentum of interrogation, Harry points to the discarded folded gold paper near Sophia's hand that’s resting on the table.

“That one has been waiting for you since earlier.” Harry says, coy tilt in his features remerging, making Sophia squint her eyes in outright suspicion.

“If this piece of paper actually says you bought me a Tesla, I swear to fucking god Sty-”

“Sunflower! Just read it and shush!” Harry instructs in pleased laughter. Wow, good to know that Sophia’s threats of bodily harm are amusing for him.

Having no choice but to follow what he said, Sophia sighs and rolls her eyes at the suddenly highly attentive Harry as she picks up the little gold paper to hold in her hands. She unfolds it with ease as her eyes scan down to the impressive cursive strokes written on the paper.

Sophia was hoping to get a laugh out of what she reads this year, except laughing is apparently the farthest thing from what she would be doing as the words written on the paper punched the air straight out of her body.

“I don’t need the Biebs to tell you to kiss me under the mistletoe. I’d kiss you anywhere, and anytime I damn please. All the mistletoes can burn to ashes for all I care, it still won’t stop me from snogging you silly.”

It’s not a dad joke, is what Sophia’s mind first registers. And then it all went spiraling down a rabbit whole after she pieced together all the words and what they could possibly mean, the words, ‘he wants to snog me silly’ repeating in endless loops on Sophia’s head like a rollercoaster ride on steroids.

Sophia was far from laughing, the ringing on her ears repeating every single consonant and vowel from the words written on the paper that’s clenched tightly in her hands. She can feel the axis of the earth tilt beneath her, reality warping into a rose-tinted dimension because surely, this has got to be a joke right?

There’s no fucking way Harry would actually say these things to her, or worse, act upon these words. Harry is the most vocal person Sophia’s ever met, he’s not afraid to be vulnerable in the name of love, wears his bloody heart out on his sleeves for anyone to care or ruin. It doesn’t make sense to Sophia how that same boy would write these world-altering sentences instead of saying it to her face or even just dropping hints that he wants to snog Sophia until she’s lost all her wits and has become a total loon.

Well Sophia feels like a total loon right now, Harry’s successful in accomplishing that.

Her pining heart molded in the shape of her best friend is clashing with her rational head that cannot fit in that same mold. It’s like her heart is a cookie cutter shaped like a little gingerbread man, wanting to cut as many pieces of the dough, to always have more. But there’s this snowman cookie cutter who takes up all the other spaces of the dough, hindering the gingerbread cookie cutter from developing foolish notions that she can have more.

There’s no way anyone would want all their sugar cookies to be in the shape of a little gingerbread man when there are so many other cookie cutter shapes available. Just like there’s no way Harry would want something more than their friendship with her when there were so many people out there that are much bigger and brighter than Sophia could ever be.

There’s no way this isn’t a joke, some sick fucking joke.

Sophia breaks from her crazed thoughts and echoes of ‘more, more, no, no’ when she hears Harry calling her name.

Instead of feeling shock at the sudden turn of events just from reading a bloody piece of paper from a Christmas Cracker (again, of all things), Sophia feels a strong wave of confusion bloom in her chest, wrapping around both her thoughts and feelings like a vine connecting the two contrasting perceptions from earlier.

Sure, Sophia’s heart still wants more and her mind is still thinks that it’s a stupid idea to pursue. But as she’s returning Harry’s silent stare, Sophia just feels so bloody confused about everything.

For the first time in what feels like ever, Sophia can’t seem to read Harry’s face if he looks nervous because he might have just confessed his feelings for her, or if he’s trying to control a smirk because he thinks this is the best joke ever. Of course Sophia knows Harry cannot be that awful of a person, would never joke about that stuff with anyone, but he’s just staring at her with an expectant glow in his eyes.

What’s he expecting from her?

And because nobody wants to give Sophia straight answers for her question, her phone decides to start blaring-up, their alarm to head out back to the Christmas market breaking their stare-off.

Harry is the first one to remove his eyes on her, calling for a waiter to ask for their check. Sophia should feel relieved that the unsettling feeling of not being able to read Harry’s face like the back of her hand like the usual, can be put to rest for later as the next item on their Christmas Eve agenda is waiting for them.

But Sophia doesn’t think she can simply rest it.

Harry and Sophia are both in tune with each other in all regards whether it’s the good stuff or the bad ones. And not being able to have that tonight is beyond unsettling for Sophia, there’s no fucking way she can simply brush this off for a later time to analyze.

What is she even to analyze when it feels like she doesn’t even know her best friend anymore?

"Show your Bunny that you love him so-oh-oh.." - Chapter One

The First Cup of Hot Chocolate 🎄

- Story Masterpost for the other chapters

Last minute Christmas plans are rubbish.

“Absolute rubbish”, Sophia mutters begrudgingly to herself, knuckles rubbing at her eyelids in an attempt to brush-off remnants of her jet lag still lingering in her system.

Her tiredness takes a sudden step back as she begins to make her way down the narrow stairs of the very familiar bungalow, a small smile appearing on Sophia’s face. She’s missed this homely, quiet, and cozy atmosphere. Celebrating Christmas here would definitely not be a complete bummer if only she had known that beforehand.

It had been established for months already that Sophia would be celebrating the holidays in sunny Australia after securing a month-long job in the country down under. As a sought-after freelance hairstylist to both the stars and your regular nine to five working individuals, Sophia is a regular jet-setter who’s always on the go around the world, accepting clients here and there. That’s why, it made perfect sense for Sophia to use her busy work schedule as a basis on why she was going to spend her holiday in Australia, despite being a lover of the cold winter weather that the summer season of Christmas in Australia will not be giving her.

Sophia’s justification of deciding to swim and party away in Brisbane instead of visiting the Winter Wonderland at Hyde Park in London, was not questioned by her parents or her best friend’s mother. Said best friend is the only one who had been suspicious of Sophia’s sudden desire to not alone spend the jolly season not asking in the chilly weather, but to also spend it alone, all by herself, for the first time.

Well, Sophia might have seen that one coming since she would like to believe that her best friend knows her well-enough, inside and out, considering that they’ve known each other at the young age of seven.

Sophia and Harry actually met during the Christmas season as well. How they met in that one Christmas market in Cheshire that now holds a dear place in their hearts, will have to be another story for another time. Sophia doesn’t have the brains, and is genuinely too jet-lagged to ponder that too fond of a story when all she wants to do is be a grump and explain why last minute Christmas plans are shit.

So long story short, Sophia and Harry are the type of best friends that are attached to the hip, to the point where each year they alternate on who gets to join the other’s family and spend Christmas with them just to be able to have the entirety of the holiday season together.

It’s public knowledge that as an international popstar turned rockstar, Harry Styles himself is a very busy man riding private planes to this country and that, to perform his little heart out in every sold out stadium or arena concerts he’s blessed to have earned. Harry’s current tour in America became a strong selling point for Sophia to argue her stand of spending her Christmas alone in Australia.

Harry’s a very doting best friend who would take it upon himself to ensure that Sophia is never too tired, too stressed, or too busy, regardless if that means he’ll purposefully tell Sophia that she can’t go to his concert because she’ll get too tired travelling and he doesn’t want that. With that being said, Sophia is also equal parts caring to her best friend, making her argument of not wanting Harry to travel to London and tire himself out just to spend Christmas with her, and then fly to America once again to continue his tour.

That last part, had been Harry’s breaking point in finally agreeing to her wishes despite that this year was supposed to be his turn to join Sophia and her family to whatever Christmas plans they have in mind. Sophia still remembers the adorable saddened pout Harry had given her over their FaceTime call, almost falling for his widened green eyes giving her the best wounded puppy look.

But Sophia had held her resolve, had stuck to her excuse of being too busy and not wanting her best friend to be worn-out when deep down, she knows that not exactly the case why. It’s for her own good anyway, is what she constantly reminds herself every time a single thought of wanting more decides to pop in her head like a traitorous air of hope.

It had honestly been fine after that. Sophia discusses with Harry her plans of attending a small Christmas party in one of the beaches in the Gold Coast that a few of her local Australian friends have invited her over. While Harry had shared his simple plan of spending the holiday with Anne who had flown to the US to watch and support her son in his last few shows for the year.

The shipping of Christmas gifts was being discussed when the two had found out that Anne had apparently made Christmas plans with a bunch of her friends, essentially leaving Harry alone during the festive season. Unlike Sophia, Harry cannot fathom spending Christmas by himself, and everything was clearly exhibited when he had called Sophia totally forgetting about their vast time difference, to almost sob his woes of being lonely during the most wonderful time of the year.

According to Anne, she had thought that Harry was going to fly to Australia to spend Christmas with Sophia, and that when she had asked Sophia’s parents, the latter had thought of the same thing despite their daughter phoning them just a few days earlier to explain her wishes of spending this time of the year by herself. Sophia had honestly almost felt offended when she reminded this to her parents, the two had only shrugged their shoulders saying it was impossible for her to not cave-in and ask for Harry to fly out.

Why they think she’s that soft for Harry is beyond her, but she does groan to herself when she realizes that she really is, too soft for her best friend when she instantly agreed to change her Christmas plans to be with him. Just to erase that offending frown and clouded gaze of upset in Harry’s gorgeous green irises.

And there she was disregarding every encouraging word she had given herself to stop wanting more.

Thankfully, that had been the last thing in Sophia’s mind as Harry and her spent the last week before Christmas having meetings with a local, well-known interior designer in Cheshire to spruce-up and make Harry’s family bungalow in Cheshire to be in a good Christmas shape as they finish their prior engagements in both the US and Australia.

Sophia is not a total liar alright, she really is quite busy during the month of December so despite her initial annoyance and dislike for not being the one to decorate the bungalow, she had reluctantly conceded in the end. Not liking the idea of possibly celebrating Christmas with Harry with nothing festive but a single Christmas themed printed napkin because they’re so late in the game of buying decorations.

It may or may not be also because of Harry’s dimples and all-too clever pleading puppy eyes of his that made Sophia agree, but that’s neither here nor there if anyone asked her.

So here she is now on Christmas Eve, regretting ever falling for Harry’s adorable face after the head designer has said they would put a little Christmas village on the table in the opening walk-way of the bungalow like that alone made his holiday the best time already. Sophia’s definitely regretting it when said Christmas village is colored white, like every single decoration in the bungalow.

When the two had said they wanted to make the bungalow feel really festive and they like the feel of a white Christmas, Sophia had definitely not pictured it to be this pristine white everywhere, it’s as if the only thing missing is freaking real snow for the bungalow to really embody a white Christmas.

Thankfully it wasn’t actually snowing despite how much fun it would be to make a snowman with Harry, because the latter would surely be idiotic enough to bring heaps of snow from outside to the inside of the bungalow to really make his miniature Christmas village really experience snow.

The first thing that came to Sophia’s mind upon arriving back in England two days ago and seeing the white Christmas theme of the bungalow, is that, ‘Oh boy, Harry’s clumsy arse would surely cause havoc in this white Christmas heaven.’ Though kept the thought on the back side of her mind as sleep called for her name that entire day, and the next day after that.

Sophia basically forgot to warn Harry about being extra careful when he arrives the night after her, and now she’s paying that debt seeing how Harry has already stained the white snow globe designed mat placed underneath the first step of the stairs.

Sophia would surely have a talk about Harry’s lack of care for his Gucci boots once he wakes up, since those mud imprints that have stained the mat are in the shape of said favorite footwear of his. Then she’ll make him clean the stain in the laundry room because Mr. Popstar is not excused from cleaning his own mess, not under Sophia’s watch.

Before that, Sophia really needs some food inside her. That's the only incentive that made her leave the confines of the cozy warm bed and her best friend’s naturally furnace-warm body that may or may not have been wrapped around hers ever since the boy had arrived from the land of the free last night. Bone-tired and only coherent enough to cuddle his best friend on their apparently now shared bed.

Day one of being reconnected and the simple entanglement of limbs has Sophia’s mind already whirling with thoughts of how she should treasure each cuddle Harry gives her before they part their ways again, leaving a deep longing in her bones to touch and be near her best friend.

More, always more.

Shaking her head, Sophia opens the fridge and the same kitchen cupboard where Anne keeps the bread away from her bread-crazy son, to pick her needed ingredients for today’s Christmas Eve breakfast. She feels comforted by the heated floors of the bungalow, the chilly winter England weather really permeates the confines of one’s home and Sophia’s fluffy dressing gown is not enough to combat the shiver it brings.

Basking in the rare quiet of a holiday morning, Sophia contently begins cutting an avocado in half before scooping off its shell and generously spreading it in two pieces of freshly toasted bread. She moves to the kitchen stove, humming quietly as she starts to fry eggs for their avocado toast, thinking of the best ways to wake-up a still sleeping Harry without provoking the jet-lagged, weary grump side of his.

As if being summoned by her thoughts, Sophia hears Harry’s familiar deep voice calling her pet name for her.

“Sunflower,” Harry says, voice much gravely in the morning due to its lack of use. It honestly does nothing but send tingles down Sophia’s spine at how pleasant it feels to hear him call for her in that deep timbre.

“Hm?” Sophia hums in reply, trying to tamper down the smile persisting to spread in her sleepy face, knowing that Harry only makes his presence known by calling her pet name as to not startle Sophia’s easily surprised self.

She ultimately fails at her attempt, grinning widely upon feeling Harry’s strong arms wound around her body from behind. His similar state of being adorned in his own fluffy dressing gown, makes Sophia feel even warmer as Harry cuddles her tighter with his face dropping down gently on the crook of her neck, nose delicately nuzzling her cold-bitten skin.

“Why are you cold?” Harry questions in that same deep tone, nose brushing once again on the skin of her cold neck for emphasis, “And most importantly, why are you up already?”

Sophia slightly shivers at the warm breath Harry exhales for every question he has asked, expertly flipping both eggs on the pan before giving her reply, “First, I’m cold because that’s what happens when it’s winter in England, you’re just abnormally too-warm to notice that. And second, I’m up because I’m hungry.”

Harry lets out a little groan of displeasure, face burrowing deeper in the now warm skin of Sophia’s nape making her let out her own little sigh of comfort.

“It’s Christmas Eve, no teasing.” Harry grumbles almost childishly, “And you can’t use the excuse of being hungry as a justification for leaving me cold and lonely in bed. I didn’t even offer you the same horrible treatment by waking you up last night to greet me at the door like a polite host would do. Instead, I let you sleep and enjoy your dream land while you’re here neglecting me alone in bed, giving me no choice but to wake-up myself.”

Giggles never fail to erupt from Sophia’s chest every time she’s subjected to Harry’s dramatics, this morning is no different.

“Stop being a grump on Christmas Eve,” Sophia retaliates teasingly, free hand squeezing the arm Harry has resting on her stomach, “besides, you’re only telling half the story. I didn’t see anything stopping you from jumping on my cozy sleeping form last night, essentially waking me up from my peaceful slumber only to be held captive by your big and long limbs like you’ve been cuddle-starved for years.”

It’s Harry’s turn to let out deep giggles of his own, “Heyy..” he draws out in that adorable whine of his that’s got Sophia grinning from ear to ear, feeling his bottom lip poking out and resting smoothly at the side of her neck.

“Not being a grump, I’m genuinely just cuddle-starved because Jeff and Mitch are shit at it. Never can get them to mold their bodies to fit against mine perfectly like yours does. Plus, your point is unfair when we both know my body’s natural reaction when seeing you snuggled in bed is to join the party by smothering you with my powerful cuddles.”

What’s unfair in Sophia’s opinion, is Harry’s ability to easily say things like that of alikening Sophia to some sort of puzzle piece that is the only perfect fit to Harry’s body when cuddling as if saying shit like that doesn’t cause Sophia to spiral down in her thoughts on what the extent of those words mean.

Further hearing that it’s instinctual for Harry to cuddle Sophia’s sleeping form, shouldn’t be a surprise since they’ve slept and snuggled in the same bed thousands of times already since they were young. It’s only surprising this time around, because Sophia is treading the fine line of being content in her best friend's arms at night or wanting to tip the edge of their friendship to pine and find more.

Those thoughts are heavy on a normal day, for tired and travel-worn Sophia, it's even much worse.

Sophia sighs instead, turning the stove off with her eggs now cooked, head slightly tilting to press her forehead on Harry’s sleep mused curls as the latter remains burrowed on the crook of her neck.

“Well, my body’s natural reaction when it’s hungry is to eat itself and I don’t think that’s particularly healthy.” Sophia feels relieved that her change of topic isn’t noticed by Harry, the boy holding her close just chuckles heartily, vibrating the two of them in light happiness.

“So, why don’t you go make our cuppas while I finish preparing our avocado toasties?”

Sophia’s request is met by Harry’s lips placing a gentle kiss on the side of her neck, squeezing her body once before letting her go and walking a few feet away in the small bungalow kitchen to prepare their cuppas.

Despite Sophia's conflicting emotions, everything feels easy around Harry now that they’re back in each other’s presence. It’s always been like this is the thing, the two of them working in sync seamlessly even weeks of being apart from each other. That’s why they’re best friends really.

Sophia can prepare their breakfast just the way they like it, chili flakes on top of her avocado toastie, and a few drizzles of Sriracha on Harry’s. Harry on the other hand, can make a mean cuppa perfect for their own taste buds, fetching a pitcher of milk for him, and a little jar of honey for Sophia without prompt.

Sooner than later, the two of them simultaneously take a seat in front of each other at the small breakfast table. Their space is quite sparse to the point where when they sat down at the same time, Harry’s shin hits Sophia’s own under the table, shaking the both of them in surprise together with their food on top of the table dangerously moving.

“Harry, careful.” Sophia gently chastises, Harry sheepishly apologizing while helping her fix their thankfully intact and non-spilled food.

“Sorry,” Harry repeats, carefully sitting down on his chair this time around, “I forgot that mum didn’t change the furniture in the bungalow despite my sudden growth spurt years ago. God, I forgot how much of a gangly giant I feel around here.”

Sophia joins Harry’s giggles, eyes suddenly locking at each other as Sophia watches Harry’s joking smile turn to that of fondness, her insides melting like the non-existent Christmas snow.

“Good -” Harry cuts himself off, head turning to check the time at the wall clock, “afternoon, sunflower.” he chuckles, shaking his head, “shit, it’s afternoon already?”

Sophia lightly laughs at the disbelief coating Harry’s question, “Yup, so I won’t even be surprised if you’re just as hungry as me. Good afternoon to you too, bunny.”

Her greeting makes Harry perk-up from his seat, head moving forward to hers with his pink lips placed in a pout, eyes soft and looking expectantly at her. It barely takes Sophia a second before she’s meeting Harry in the middle with her head tilted as she offers her temple for him to kiss in greeting, Sophia’s nose brushing against his delicately in the same natural ease before the both of them return to their own seats starting to dig their own plates of brunch.

It’s a thing they’ve done a million times over like most other things innately unique to them.

Harry had first started greeting her with a kiss on Sophia’s temple when he was seven and saw Anne kissing her forehead every time they saw each other or part ways at the end of the day. A cherubic frowning Harry had gently grabbed Sophia’s face that one time, pink, chocolate covered lips smacking a loud kiss on her temple for the first time before proclaiming that no one else was allowed to kiss Sophia on her temple except for him.

Would you look at that, a possessive, jealous little shit even at the innocent age of seven. Not like Sophia’s complaining though, how can she when it’s one of the sweetest things that Harry and her only share and hold special to them with everything about their friendship being so public because of their careers.

She’s thankful that up to now, it’s deeply ingrained in them to greet each other in that way like nothing has changed. Like it doesn’t make Sophia feel different tingles when Harry reaches out for her to hold close in his broad body, to kiss her temple and let her run her nose against his, every time he’s about to head on stage.

So nothing has changed, nothing in Harry’s perspective at least.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to head back to bed with me for a few more minutes?” Harry asks after swallowing his final bite of his avocado toastie, any traces of his egg missing as well. “I promise I won’t cuddle you too hard this time.”

Harry flutters his eyelashes at Sophia, trying to be coy and persuasive. It should work with how charming he is, but all Sophia can focus on is how ridiculous he looks with bread crumbs all over his mouth and drops of tea in the front of his dressing gown.

“You’re so messy, bunny,” She chuckles lightly instead, pushing the container of napkins towards Harry on the table, “and no pleading from you will destroy my resolve of having a productive Christmas Eve.”

“Sleeping is productive,” Harry counters, napkin now in hand slowly fixing himself, “we’re both travel-tired so it makes sense if we still need to sleep.”

“And then waste a perfect afternoon getting stuck in your strong, giant hold? Or worse, getting stuck in your unmoving hold with your loud, unrelenting snoring? I don’t think so.”

Harry throws his crumpled napkin at Sophia for her teasing, the two laughing when it hits her forehead and bounces to her empty tea cup.

“You're such a child, I swear,” Harry says around a smirk, “Everyone snores, get over it!”

“I’m the child?” Sophia laughs incredulously, “You’re the one throwing crumpled napkins at me like a child who can’t take the harsh truth.”

“I only threw one napkin!” Harry laughs, “Napkin, as in singular, not napkins which is plural.”

Not comprehending why in the world Harry is currently talking English grammar with her, Sophia gives her pearly white smile at him, saying, “Well it’s also our first, as in first singular, Christmas Eve together with just the two of us, no parents or siblings around. Are you going to take away my first Christmas Eve alone with you by holding me hostage in a cuddle like every single free time you have all year round?”

Harry’s joking aura leaves him after that, smile softening like earlier with his focus fixed solely on her, “If you put it that way, I guess I can cuddle with you some other time then.”

Sophia snorts at the way Harry answers like he’s the one being inconvenienced here. Any other time, Sophia would gladly cancel plans just to bask in Harry’s warm cuddles. But it’s Christmas time, and surely that shouldn’t apply to this time of the year when it’s kind of offensive how the universe is making Sophia choose between Harry’s loving touches or the amazing festivities waiting for her outside.

That’s just cruel.

“And,” Harry continues, stopping Sophia from cursing the universe for making her choose, “I already bought two tickets for the Cheshire Christmas Market, and special passes to the brand-new ice rink beside it.”

“Oh thank the lord,” Sophia actually sighs in relief upon hearing that, “I honestly thought we both forgot to book in advance and we’d have to waste an extra hour just to wait in line at the ticket booth.”

Harry whistles, “Look who’s sounding like a diva here. Can’t wait in line for an extra hour? Where’s the patient girl that waited with me in line for two hours at The Script’s concert years back?”

Sophia laughs at Harry’s teasing, and would gladly throw a used napkin at his head if she did have one, “That’s different!”

“Different?” Harry smirks, “Please do tell.”

“It’s different because we already had tickets, plus! It’s The Script, of course I’m going to wait patiently in line.”

“Ohh, special treatment I see.” Harry points out to be annoying, making the two of them laugh regardless, “So you’re telling me you’re not willing to wait in line for the seasonal goodies inside the Christmas market? Like not for Christmas special hot chocolate? The Christmas roast dinner? The mince pie? The cranberry sausage rolls?”

Sophia gasps, “Of course I’d wait for those! Who do you think I am? Some Grinch?”

“A diva Grinch who’s not willing to wait in line to buy a ticket to get inside the Christmas market.”

“I’m willing to wait! I just can’t stand crying babies and loud families waiting in line with me. It’s too noisy, which does not help with the already loud atmosphere that the Christmas season brings everywhere.”

It’s now Harry who gasps dramatically at her, green eyes wide and all, “A diva, and ungrateful for the Christmas loud excitement Grinch? Holy moly you’ve changed, sunflower.”

“Oh sod off!” Sophia says in an amused grin, “The only factor that might have made me change my views for waiting in line is because of you. My rockstar best friend who won’t let me wait for even a single second in any line of any of his shows ever since his humble boy band beginnings, until now that he's a full-blown rockstar performing with his tits out just because.”

Sophia’s smirking smartly at a cackling Harry. Sophia knows that he’s definitely laughing this hard because of her copying his ‘just because’ answer every time she asks why in the world he’s only wearing a sparkly fringe vest that costs more than a fully covered outfit that she can get somewhere else.

“Touché.” Harry relents after his laughter subsides, “I think that’s enough chatter for the two of us. All that laughing is making my head hurt, to be honest.”

Sophia gives him an understanding smile, standing up to get some vitamins from one of the kitchen drawers, getting two from the jar and handing one to a now sleepy grinning Harry.

“Drink those up, bunny.” Sophia instructs, “Have to get you out of that jet-lag or else I might be a total nightmare for you later on once all the Christmas kiosks are calling for my name.”

“You’re already starting to become a nightmare so why don’t you leave me here to fix our used dishes while you go get ready and finally leave my side for just a few minutes.”

“Bunny!” Sophia exclaims in faux offense, helping a chuckling Harry bring their used dishes to the kitchen sink, “You love my company, don’t lie.”

“I do.” Harry simply agrees, Sophia’s heart skipping a beat not expecting such an honest answer in their apparent bantering. “I love your company so much that I need to be preoccupied while you go get ready so I won’t miss you too much.”

Now how does Harry expect Sophia to leave his side after saying those words dripping with sweetness? How when Sophia wants to hear more, needs more all the time nowadays.

“You’re such a sap.” Sophia finds herself saying instead.

“Sunflower, you love it.” Harry smirks while placing the rubber gloves on his abnormally ringless hands because a dishwasher is not a thing he likes to use, grandpa.

Sophia rolls her eyes good naturedly, “I didn’t say anything,” she says, about to make her way back up stairs to fix up.

“Hey, sunflower,” Harry stops her from walking, Sophia turning her back to look at him with one eyebrow raised in question, “wear something Gucci or you're not allowed in my car.”

Sophia splutters a laugh, “You go try and fail to threaten me with that, while I go and call Mitch and Jeff and tell them you said they’re shit cuddlers.”

Sophia hears Harry’s honking laughter as she starts walking out of the kitchen again, the small bungalow allowing her to hear him say, “It’s true anyway! I don’t know how Sarah and Glenne can stand being with shit cuddlers!”

And Sophia doesn’t know how to tell Harry that he’s right.

Every single friend or family member that she’d cuddle with, is shit at doing it compared to him.

Harry and Sophia head out on the road not even an hour later after their brunch.

Harry smiles in triumph upon seeing Sophia emerge from the front door with her black Gucci Marmont bag slung across her fluffy white jacket and resting perfectly just above her tight, black leather trousers.

“Look who joined the party,” Harry smirks, now ringed hands smoothing his own brown Gucci coat.

“I’m only using this bag because none of my other smaller ones can fit your inhaler inside.” Sophia replies as the two of them enter Harry’s Range Rover, her hands instantly dialing up the heater system of the car while Harry takes control of their satnav to place the address of the Cheshire Christmas Market.

“Oh shit,” Harry mumbles, “I forgot about that prime thing, thanks sunflower for always remembering.” and because he’s a total sweetheart, Harry takes her cold hand in his to press a kiss on the back of it in thanks.

Only in thanks, Sophia reminds herself feeling grateful for the nth time in the duration of their entire friendship that she’s not the type of person that easily blushes. She’d for sure not be successful in concealing her feelings of wanting more if she did blush at every sweet thing Harry did for her. It would be so often that Harry would think they have to go to the A&E to get her checked because nobody is capable of blushing that hard for that long.

Thankfully her cheeks don’t get tinted pink that effortlessly, and that the next few minutes of their drive consists of comfortable silence between them, without Harry trying to spew sweet nothings here and there to an unknowing Sophia.

Until Harry opened his stereo and picked his chosen Christmas song for them to listen to.

Sophia feels her cheeks flush, not because it was a sweet song that Harry dedicated to her or something. Her cheeks are now tinted pink out of sheer shock and slight outrage.

“Is this ‘All I Want My Christmas Is You’ by Mariah Carey?” Sophia asks, metaphorically sitting at the edge of her seat waiting for Harry’s answer in complete concentration.

Harry turns his head out of the road for a second to look at her, eyebrow raising as he answers, “Yeah, the one and only Christmas queen Mariah C.”

Sophia gasps in complete appalled making Harry turn to her in shock at the noise she lets out, “What?! Why are you listening to this version of her song and not the one with Justin Bieber in it?”

That makes Harry erupt in laughter, laughing harder when he takes a look at Sophia’s eyes throwing daggers at him, “Are you serious? You really think I’d be listening to a Christmas song with Justin Bieber in it?”

“Excuse me?!” Sophia says in surprise once again, hand coming up to her chest in full effect of her startled emotions, “My all-time favorite Justin Bieber song is a Christmas one and it’s called-”

“Mistletoe, I know.” Harry cuts her off, “You made my ears bleed enough times while listening to it every bloody holiday, sunflower.”

Sophia huffs in indignation, “And I still don’t understand why it’s not yet your favorite JB song, nor your favorite Christmas song ever.” Sophia shivers to show her disgust at the still playing song, “I really need to play you more of my Christmas playlist to save you from these very inferior Christmas song selections.”

Harry snorts a laugh, attention focused on the road but eyes burning with amusement and clear mirth, “I’m really starting to question your song choices, sunflower. When the band took a break, you were the most excited for Niall’s solo music to come out. Not mine, your best friend since childhood, let me remind you.”

Sophia nonchalantly dismisses Harry’s statement with a wave of her freshly manicured hand, “Niall’s always going to be my blonde soul sister so of course, I’d be the most ecstatic for his solo music. Just to remind you, I was the first to hear his entire album before you, Louis, or Liam got the chance to listen to it.”

“Oh, I don’t need a reminder,” Harry rolls his eyes despite the grin visible on his side profile, “your explanation doesn’t even make sense. Niall’s not even a real blonde!”

“And you’re not a real baker either.” Sophia points out smartly, loving the way Harry’s jaw drops, eyes finally looking at her again.

“You’re being quite a menace on Christmas Eve, baby,” Harry says after regaining his bearings from Sophia’s witty response. “I’m not sure if Santa will appreciate your behavior right now.”

Sophia gives him a deadpan look, “Santa’s not real, bunny.”

“And you’re just further convincing me that you’re a Grinch.” Harry smirks at her on a red light, “A Grinch that likes an Irish leprechaun’s songs and a Christmas song of a Canadian maple leaf.”

Sophia guffaws from Harry’s completely ridiculous statement. His humor is something endearing, but difficult to grasp the first time around. Thankfully, she’s known the kid ever since the beginnings of his obsession with dad jokes. The dork actually asked Sophia’s dad for jokes and wrote it down in various pieces of napkin, then forgot to take with him the said napkin so the cycle repeats of Harry asking her father the same, literal dad jokes again and again.

“I’m inclusive with my choices of artists, what can I say?” Sophia shrugs her shoulders making Harry chuckle at her reply, “Now give me your phone so you can be inclusive with your Christmas songs as well.”

Harry doesn’t even offer a fight, easily handing Sophia his phone without even a second look at her. He just lets her be, eyes still focused on the road, not showing any signs of fear that his best friend might find something in his phone. What’s Harry got to hide anyway?

I don’t know, the self-deprecating side of Sophia’s mind supplies, a picture of his new romantic relationship partner as his lock screen?

Rationally, Sophia knows Harry won’t blindside her like that as the both of them pretty much tell each other everything. Maybe not the fact that Sophia is basically head over heels in love with her total dreamboat of a best friend. That's a really big thing that Sophia’s hiding so now she’s not sure if Harry’s hiding something that big too, like a new girlfriend or boyfriend he’s got stashed somewhere. Besides, ever since Love on Tour started, Sophia has become more conscious of limiting their time of interaction whether less shows to visit, or less messages and calls exchanged.

Their usual three times a day per-week FaceTime calls have been reduced to once a day per-week. People might still think that’s borderline too clingy, but Sophia’s proud of reducing their 18 FaceTime calls a week to that of seven. Plus, they’re not ashamed to be called clingy anyway because only a moron would think they aren’t.

The point is, their reduced interaction might have caused a little slip-up of some secret new beau and now Sophia is slightly freaking out in the passenger seat of Harry’s car, with the latter's phone clutched tightly on her hands holding the verdict to her sanity.

Sophia actually exhales a sigh of relief internally upon gaining the balls to open Harry’s phone, only to see the same lock screen photo that he’s had since before his sophomore tour started. She even swoons just a little bit, seeing her own smiling face in between Gemma and Anne as the three of them posed for Harry’s phone. Their necks are bared proudly, showcasing the personalized pearl necklaces that Harry had gotten them with their own names being spelled out by little beads at one side of the necklace.

Not only was this picture significant in terms of highlighting Harry’s little loving gift for his three girls, but the photo was also taken in the Italian holiday that Harry took them last summer.

Without saying much that would make Sophia weep in joy and appreciation for the man currently driving her to the Christmas market, let’s just say that their last holiday together had been really special and had caused some sort of epiphany for Sophia, way before the Christmas season began.

Anyway, back to the agenda at hand of educating Harry in being more inclusive with his Christmas song selections, Sophia opens the music application that Harry is using and quickly types out the specific song she was looking for.

Sophia is quite surprised that just as the intro of the song starts, no lyrics or whatever, just purely instrumental, Harry whips his head so fast in her direction that Sophia slightly feared for their safety in that moment since crashing into a car is not really part of her holiday agenda today.

“Why are you playing that song?!” Harry all out cries in surprise, eyes wide in disbelief.

Call Sophia shocked as well, “I’m surprised you even know the song without hearing the lyrics yet. Are you a secret Jonas Brothers fan and you’re just too shy to tell me? You know I won’t judge right? They’re basically my favorite boy band ever, well, after One Direction I suppose because I don’t want to hurt Niall’s feelings or anything like that.”

Sophia’s teasing makes Harry’s defined jaw drop once again. Usual doe-like eyes now turned into slits as he alternates his focus on the road and to her face filled with utmost chaff.

Shaking his head, Harry replies, “You of all people know that as a side effect of being in a boy band myself, I can’t simply listen to other boy band songs without cringing. So it’s kind of rude for you to assume that I listen to this song on the regular. But do you know what’s more rude than you thinking I listen to boy band songs, and for you valuing Niall’s feelings more than mine?”

Sophia bats her eyelashes in an annoying manner up at Harry’s smirking side profile, “What? May you please enlighten me?”

In perfect timing, they hit another red light which allows Harry to turn his body slightly sideward towards Sophia, with his full attention now on the girl. His hand reaches forward to cup one of Sophia’s rounded cheeks as he lowered his smirking gaze directly for her eyes to see.

“What’s more rude, borderline offensive actually, is that you pretty much abandoned your own country by giving your alliance to the music of not only the Irish leprechaun, but that too of the star-spangled, purity ring, wearing boys.”

Sophia does not know which of the noise of shock or the uproar of aughter that simultaneously erupted from her chest, was louder than the other from this ridiculously hilarious shit Harry is pouring out.

How he knows about that specific detail about the Jonas Brothers is beyond Sophia. She might have been a fan, but not that obsessed of a fan that she just had to gush that fact out to her best friend, a man who never liked boy bands to begin with. Sophia’s a very considerate best friend, alright.

With her cackling subsiding, Sophia lets out, “Why does it seem to me that your concern does not actually lie in the fact that they’re not British. But your problem is more-so regarding the purity rings.” Sophia then gasps with her hand covering her matte-pink lips, “Is this your odd way of asking me to get you one as your Christmas pressie from me?”

“Fuck no!” Harry’s quick and resounding tone and look of absolute horror, was even more hilarious than all he’s said this entire car ride. “Purity rings are absolutely fucking lame! And I bet you, they only used that tactic so they seem more approachable and good ‘boyfriend materials’ for their fans.”

Sophia is literally hyperventilating in laughter on the passenger seat, “Holy shit! You’re one feisty bunny right now, H! You can’t be bitter about your god awful, fashion choices of too preppy ‘American, good lads’ type of style just because that didn’t work out and the Jonas Brothers’ purity rings did. Besides, Nick Jonas has curls so that’s a definite selling point.”

Harry guffaws at that, one hand on the steering wheel while the other waves frantically at his hair, “Then what do you call this? I have curls too!”

“Well, Nick Jonas’ curls are way better!”

Snorting, Harry replies, “I mean, I don’t know if I can argue with that considering the state of my hair right now, proper bird’s nest I think.” he dishevels his growing chocolate curls atop his head even more, Sophia almost feeling cheated on that Harry’s driving and she can’t just reach over to do it herself.

The fact that it looks like nothing to a bird's nest is on the tip of Sophia’s tongue ready to give rightful appreciation to Harry’s curls. Except the latter opens his big mouth and erases any coherent thought on Sophia’s mind.

“If only I’ve gotten you to agree to become my hairstylist already, then I for sure would have way superb curls than bloody Nick Jonas.”

Sophia knows Harry is joking, well partially at least since they have been bantering for most of the duration of this car ride. But she also knows there’s some semblance of truth in Harry’s statement, never one to shy away from telling others his constant failed endeavours of convincing Sophia to join him on the road and become his hairstylist for every show or guesting.

In all honesty, it does sound rather brilliant. Sophia’s a celebrity hairstylist, Harry’s a popstar-rockstar-celebrity hybrid of an individual, and them being the bestest of friends who work seamlessly and in complete synch without the need to be prompted by the other to do this and that, does ring a perfect tune for a work plan.

Except life isn’t that simple, and not every seamlessly sounding working plan always ends up like the flawless tune of a masterpiece like Sign of the Times.

Sophia believes in the phrase: ‘don’t knock it, till you’ve tried it’ and has devoted time as Lou Tesdale’s assistant hairstylist during the Where We Are Tour back in 2014. It had been one of the best years of Sophia’s life; how can it not when she gets to spend the majority of her time with Harry just like the good ‘ol times before music and fans took the majority of her best friend away from her.

If you ask Sophia what then made her not want to be Harry’s hairstylist again years later when it seems that only good memories were garnered during the time that she was, well Sophia has a few answers that she uses to remind herself every now and again on why it’s just not a good idea for her sanity to join Harry on his solo tours.

Maybe because spending a lot of time with Harry developed some things in her heart and mind that were never there before?

Maybe she finally realized that being attached on the hip with Harry has some repercussions once she isn’t?

Maybe being with each other for months on the road without giving respective alone times because they just can’t physically and mentally be separated from one another, made Sophia realize how easily co-dependent they get?

Or maybe it’s the fact that Sophia doesn’t give a bloody fuck about all those reasons and just wants to live with it, with Harry, and kiss his face silly after he also realizes that he wants more in their friendship.

So that’s why it’s not a good idea. It can actually be quite dangerous for Harry if he has successfully persuaded Sophia to become his hairstylist, only to be mauled by her persistent, non-platonic, loving ways.

Instead, Sophia always answers using the safe route: ‘I don’t like to mix business with pleasure, and I’m not talking about sex you horny twat.’

Right now though, Sophia is not willing to go down that road and continue fighting for her stance amidst Harry’s very effective ways of persuasion. Add that to the Christmas spirit of giving, then Sophia is surely on the brink of saying ‘yes’ if Harry flat-out asks her to be his hairstylist now in his car.

Sophia just rolls her eyes at Harry like every time his annoying (handsome) face is too annoying she doesn’t even have enough words to describe how deeply annoying he is.

“I’ll only agree to your business proposal once you make me my Christmas song.”

“What?” Harry turns to her for a moment with a confused sheen on his face.

Sophia exhales, like Harry’s confusion is so not needed right now, “The Harries and I, especially me, bunny, have been waiting for you to release your own Christmas album, or even just a Christmas song.”

Harry lets out a surprised laugh, “Since when? I don’t think I’ve ever seen: ‘For Bunny to make me a Christmas song’ ever on your wishlist, sunflower.”

Sophia huffs, “That’s because I have no wishlist, dumby. And, I’ve been wanting for a Harry Styles Christmas album, or a singular song because you’re such a slow-moving grandpa when making one, eons ago! Like literally eons, bunny!”

Harry huffs in return, “Am not a grandpa, just a perfectionist. Plus, drop it with your ‘eons’ crap because I have seriously never heard you ask me to make you a Christmas song. You’re always playing the bloody Bieber song every holiday, that you wanting my own Christmas music is really far-fetched.”

“Well maybe I won’t be playing ‘Mistletoe’ that bloody often if you had dropped some Christmas songs already.”

Harry stays silent for a moment, the Jonas Brothers song already finished playing before he turns to look at Sophia with a grin and an upward quirk to his eyebrow, the latter mimicking his questioning smile.

“So you’re telling me that if I’ve made you a Christmas album, or even just a single Christmas song eons ago, then I didn’t have to hear the Bieb’s song every time the holiday season is in the corner, and you’d have agreed to become my hairstylist already for every single moment I need to get my hair done?”

“Yup,” Sophia simply nods, watching the way Harry’s beam of a smile seem to shine brighter like all his Christmas wishes have been answered already. Except it’s not.

“But,” Sophia continues, noticing the visible sudden stiffness in Harry’s smile, probably knowing that his dreams will be crushed in front of him at this moment. “that proposal of mine has already left town and went on holiday because you still have yet to give me a single Christmas melody this year.”

Sophia pouts in faux sympathy at the look of saddened protest Harry is giving her while trying to focus on driving, “It’s alright bunny, better luck next year. Now, I’ll just play ‘Like It’s Christmas’ by the lovely, previous purity ring wearing Jonas Brothers again. Maybe you can even get inspiration or valuable notes while listening to this that you can use for your future ventures in the holiday music genre.”

Sophia doesn’t even wait for an answer from Harry, pressing the play button once again on his phone.

When she doesn’t get any reaction from him in any form, Sophia sees it fit to take out her own phone and take a video of her jamming out to the song while also angling the camera to a poker-face, driving Harry.

It’s not uncommon for Sophia to exploit these simple and random moments that Harry and her have together to share with his adoring fans. The Harries are usually waiting to be blessed for such content every time news has spread that Sophia was currently with Harry spending time together.

Sophia doesn’t mind sharing some private moments of Harry and her out to the public, it’s the least she can do with how supportive and loving they are with one of the most important people in her life. Everything is dandy as long as said private moments are shared with her or Harry’s consent beforehand.

That’s why, thanks to Sophia, there are photos and videos of Harry circling the internet containing either a compilation of Harry burning his tongue for every soup he tries tongue-first before a show, Harry trying out the most ridiculous outfits every time they go shopping and end up purchasing it, losing his shit by carrying the nearest person beside him and jumping up and down in joy while a Packers game is playing on the telly, or a wine-drunk Harry in Italy convincing his mother that he was adopted and not her son because he’s so good at Italian that there’s no way he’s British.

Adding to that, is now a holiday themed video of Harry being a heartless Christmas Grinch by not dancing along to Jonas Brothers together with Sophia who’s singing her heart out. Complete with shoulder shimmies and bopping off her head every ‘woo woo woo’ the Jo Bros sing out.

And because it’s not a verified, Harries exclusive content if it does not containing Harry being the star of the show (fucking narcissist), Harry absolutely knocks Sophia of her feet in complete surprise as he suddenly sings along to Nick Jonas.

I can’t deny what I’m feeling inside

No matter the reason, no matter decision

My heart will keep beating, you better believe

That part is so fast and near the end of the song that all Sophia can do is watch her video back and laugh along with Harry at how polar their facial expressions were at that part of the clip. Sophia’s eyes and mouth were wide open like a literal deer caught in headlights, while Harry is absolutely feeling himself while hitting every note of the song perfectly.

“Look at your face!” Harry honks in laughter, pointing at Sophia’s phone screen as they’re waiting in line at the carpark entrance at the Cheshire Christmas Market, “It’s like you’re hearing Medicine all over again!”

“Shut up!” Sophia whines, giggles falling out seconds later, “I can’t believe you really are a secret Jo Bros fan! I knew it was suspicious that you have knowledge about their purity rings. Why didn’t you tell me sooner, bunny?!”

Harry simply groans. And because he’s always keen for dramatics, he also hits his head on the steering wheel.

You don’t even have to ask.

Of course, Sophia has got all that in video too! About to post it on the gram actually, you’re very welcome.

“Hot chocolate first, or straight to the scrumptious cranberry sausage rolls?”

The excited tone in Harry’s voice is not lost in Sophia’s hearing despite their loud surroundings inside the Christmas market.

As expected, the Cheshire Christmas Market is filled with its usual Christmas magic, complete with bright lights in every wooden stand selling everything Christmas related. Families, couples, friends, or even single wanderers are talking merrily amongst each other, everyone basking in the delicious scents of every baking Christmas treat, a handful singing along to the non-stop Christmas tunes playing all around the market.

All Sophia can say is ‘Bloody hell, thank fuck I didn’t celebrate Christmas in Australia this year or I would have missed all these wonderful festivities. Screw my Harry Styles shaped pining heart and all that!’

But that’s not the answer to Harry’s question though.

“Bunny, hot chocolate first, of course. We can’t ruin our tradition, H.”

Harry giggles at the urgency in her tone, “Alright, my bad. Whatever you want, baby.” and then he winks at her, right hand extending towards Sophia with his palms up in invitation.

He just called her baby, winked at her, and now he’s giving her a free invitation to hold his warm hand?

So maybe Sophia should rethink her earlier statement of gladness that she wasn’t celebrating Christmas in Australia. This is one of those reasons why she even decided to celebrate Christmas alone in the first place. Harry Styles and his innately affectionate ways towards her is something she’ll easily get addicted to; always easy for her Cheshire boy.

Since it’s been established how soft she is for Harry, Sophia just bites her lip in an attempt to hide the grin trying to spread on her face and simply accepts Harry’s waiting hand as they close the gap between their fingers. Sophia’s smaller hand is enveloped tightly by that of Harry’s much bigger one, his tender touch never fails to anchor Sophia in the moment as the two of them make their way around the Christmas market, intertwined hands comfortably swinging in between them.

Winter is amazing because it means more excuses to get to cuddle an always sun-warm Harry. Christmas is amazing too because Harry and Sophia regain the child-like wonder they’ve lost whilst growing-up in the form of revisiting all the Christmas festivities they’ve enjoyed when they were seven.

But the most amazing thing is winter and Christmas in Cheshire.

Winter in Cheshire is cold enough that Harry makes it his own mission to always have an arm around Sophia, keeping her close to his side as they look around all the dazzling lights and jovially decorated stalls making sure her small frame is not lost in the crowds of eager people enjoying their own holiday.

Christmas in Cheshire is a festive time of the year where everyone else is busy enjoying time with their loved ones, that nobody even stops Harry Styles for a picture. No phone, camera or even wandering eyes pointed at every single thing he does.

Sophia loves Christmas in Cheshire.

She’s reminded of how much, as Harry and her finally found the stall who sells the best Christmas hot chocolate, the two of them falling in line eagerly.

“Large mug, or a small one?” Harry asks her when their turn was coming-up.

“Um,” Sophia thinks for a moment, eyes falling on the couple in front of them that had just received their order, “the big cup looks a bit much for me, but the small cup looks too little to be able to satisfy my hot chocolate craving.”

Harry chuckles, looking down at her with a knowing look, “So you’d end up just getting the big mug and make me finish whatever you can’t?”

Sophia smiles up at Harry brightly, she likes to think it’s bright enough that it competes with all the string of lights surrounding them as she expresses her gratitude in that glimmering beam of hers.

“I think I’d go with your idea. Aren’t you a smart one, bunny.”

Harry just chuckles at her, “Comes with experience, I think.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That I have enough experience with the ladies in my life who can’t finish the food and beverages they order so I finish it like the good son, brother, and best friend I am.”

It makes Sophia laugh, memories of Anne, Gemma, and her, all take turns to give their leftovers to Harry. Might it be on a holiday or a regular Sunday roast at the Twist’s residence, with Harry’s frown and unpleasant pout greeting them each time. It’s funny because Harry first acts like it’s offensive to him that they can’t finish the delicious dishes they have in front of them, only to gobble it all up so quickly like he just inhaled all of it. And then he seeks Sophia for cuddles because his now bloated tummy has made him feel quite poorly.

Just like her music choices, Sophia is also inclusive with whatever type of cuddles Harry is in the mood for.

She tells Harry exactly just that, receiving a smirking grin in return. “Sunflower, you better.”

Sophia scoffs, ready to berate his slightly entitled response. Except the Christmas Eve gods seem to be on her menace of a best friend’s side as the line for the hot chocolate had moved and it was now Harry’s turn to give their order.

Ultimately, Sophia forgets what she was even going to bite back, attention now enthralled by the steaming blue cups of hot chocolate on Harry’s massive hands. Sophia knew there was an actual purpose on why his hands are abnormally large: to carry both their hot chocolate as she waits on a wooden bench for him to sit beside her.

“Careful, baby. It’s really hot.” Harry gently warns her, cautiously handing the large cup in Sophia’s waiting hands. “Oh, here’s your candy cane.” he carefully drops one in her cup, the classic white and red striped holiday candy resting perfectly at the side of her mug.

“Thank you, bunny.” Sophia simply says, blowing on the very much wanted hot beverage on her cupped hands, enjoying the sweet smell of the drink as she wafts the steam it let out. The smart decision was to bring woolen gloves, but Sophia doesn’t think it goes well with her chosen outfit for today, nor will it allow her to use her phone in documenting this special day with Harry.

The two comfortably sipped on their own hot drinks, eyes and ears leisurely taking in their vivid surroundings, from the loud chattering and laughter of people, to the sparkling Christmas decorations in every corner of the market.

“So, what’s our game plan for today?” Sophia turns her body sideward to ask Harry.

Harry takes one last sip of his hot chocolate before replying, left hand individually counting his next words.

“Christmas special hot chocolate, check!” Sophia giggles around her warm cup at the way Harry even does a hand motion of a check sign before continuing his list, “Christmas shopping, have a much deserved break with the glorious cranberry sausage rolls, go to the ice rink, have a Christmas Eve dinner after, and then the massive tree lighting as our last activity.”

Sophia whistles, “Well don’t you got our day all planned out already, Mr. I-Can’t-Survive-Without-An-Itinerary-Thanks-To-My-Manager-Jeff Azoff.”

“Heyy..” Harry pouts, the melted white fluff of marshmallows on their sweet and creamy drink coating his lips, “I just like to be prepared and Jeff has nothing to do with my immaculate planning skills.”

“Alright,” Sophia concedes, naturally reaching out to thumb away the mess on Harry’s lips, “what are we going to shop for then? What stalls are we visiting?”

Her highly expectant tone makes Harry stick out his bottom lip even further, “Well I’m not that prepared, for heaven's sake. You have to ask Jeff to plan-out our Christmas Eve if you wanna be that specific, can’t answer your question, sunflower.”

Sophia giggles, wiping her own chocolate-stained lips from the little napkin that came with their drinks, “Then what general thing can you tell me about our shopping trip? We can’t just be roaming around without definite items in mind, that would take us the entire afternoon.”

Harry shrugs, holding his empty mug on his thigh, “All I know, is that we’re going to shop until we drop, literally. Like, we’re not going to stop shopping around kiosks until that bloody ball in Times Square drops.”

Sophia almost chokes on her drink in laughter, “What the fuck are you talking about?” Harry doesn’t offer her any response except for a smirk, his now free hands rubbing circles on Sophia’s back to soothe her startled state. “Bunny, we’re not in New York, and you're referencing a wrong holiday. The ball drops on New Years Eve, not Christmas.”

Sophia’s explanation is left on deaf ears, Harry shrugging his shoulders before letting out more shit.

“Whatever. All I know is that the Cheshire Christmas Market can ransack my wallet for whatever holiday themed item they bring to my face that may tickle my fancy. Have to get some use out of all the tips I got from my sold out stripper shows in Madison Square Garden at some point.”

“BUNNY!” Sophia screeches, eyes automatically widening as she looks around to see if anyone had been disturbed by her outburst while Harry does his honking laughter like the absolute menace that he is.

“You’re face!” Harry wheezes out, bending himself in half in total hilarity, “Fucking hell you’re face looked so fucking hilarious, I can’t!” and he continues to lose his breath in laughter despite Sophia rolling her eyes at his childish antics.

“You absolute shit!” Sophia says, amusement not hidden in her tone, pushing Harry’s still shaking shoulders just a bit because he deserves it, “Who wouldn’t be surprised and appalled at your casual tone while saying, sold out stripper shows at the MSG? There’s bloody children around you, H!”

Harry sits straight back up again, laughter have subsided to those of his dimpling cheeky smile, Sophia already having an inkling that whatever comes out next from his mouth will only be just as demented as his previous utterance.

“You saw my tits out for most shows, how can that not be near a stripper show?”

Sophia shakes her head, trying not to laugh at the continuous absurdity coming from Harry’s beaming face, “Bunny, I really can’t comprehend how you think sometimes.”

Harry’s response was quick, “I also can’t fathom why no one handed me some cash on any of my shows when I both had my tits out, and my fly open on some nights sunflower. That's just not fair on my part. I don’t feel appreciated enough, honestly.”

And Sophia truly has no idea what to say to that.

Has no idea how the two of them ended up from talking nonsense shit while sipping their hot chocolates on the bench, to buying absolutely unnecessary Christmas items like Harry had said earlier.

Sophia would blame that fact on Harry, a hundred percent with her index finger even pointing at him for emphasis.

The first few stalls they walked hand-in-hand to, had honestly been quite good and the items they purchased had some definite purpose for it. Harry had first walked her to a kiosk selling ugly Christmas sweaters and Sophia’s not just saying that to be discriminatory at the shop, it was really their branding and no one can tell her otherwise if they also see all the hideous looking knitted jumpers plastered in front of their stall for everyone to see.

Sophia never understood the tradition of wearing ugly Christmas sweaters for the holiday, always believed that you should look and feel the best in the most special time of the year. But she guesses, others like Harry who instantly asked the seller to fetch him the most garish out of all the jumpers, find some sense of enjoyment or jollification in partaking in this odd activity.

Sophia thinks she’d let Harry buy the two of them the worst from all the selections because her Christmas gift for him can compensate for the ugliness of the Christmas jumper. As for her, Sophia lives in dressing gowns every Christmas day (except Christmas dinner obviously, she has some sense of shame alright) so she thinks she’s good to go.

The next stall they visited was filled with varying scented candles in their own jars with their little aesthetically pleasing labels indicating what type of Christmas scent they are. Sophia and Harry had made a joined decision of buying a classic balsam and cedar scent, a sugar Christmas cookie scent, and one that’s labeled Christmas Eve because their noses had gotten clogged already from all the different fragrances that they just got that one for the sake of lighting it tonight once they got back to the bungalow. In Sophia’s smart opinion, they needed these scented candles to complete the Christmas ambiance in their current winter wonderland (still too-white) haven.

The next stalls they visited after that, Sophia can say that Harry and her have been complete idiots about even purchasing anything that’s remotely necessary. Though to remind you all, Sophia blames Harry on the next unfortunate shopping incident and takes no part in it all after realizing she can’t stop him from really emptying out his wallet.

The first piece was a tree topper in the shape of a star. Not just a star though, but a star tree topper made out of paper mache bananas.

Harry breathes and lives bananas so it was expected of him to gravitate towards the ridiculous item upon seeing it. What’s unfortunate really, is that the banana star was doused in glitters.

“Bunny, we’re not getting that. We already have a tree topper.”

“I’ll just take it off then. Do you see this masterpiece of a tree topper I’m holding?”

“Yes, it’s literally a star made out of paper mache bananas.”

“Now don’t give me that tone just because you don’t like the fruit. Honestly, I don’t even know why we’re still friends after I learned you hated bananas.”

“Excuse me? Are you seriously throwing away all the other amazing qualities of our friendship just for a bloody banana?”

“No..but I am for this glittery banana tree topper.”

See? Harry can’t be stopped after seeing something banana, and with glitters!

So when Harry picks up a doormat in the shape and design of a gingerbread house, Sophia just knows the rest of their shopping trip is only going downhill from there.

“I don’t think I have to tell you that we also have a doormat already. Didn’t we just use it before we left?”

“That’s outside the bungalow, this one is for the inside right after you enter the front door.”

“Then what did the bloody doormat outside the front door do then if the soles of the shoes still remained dirty needing ANOTHER doormat right after you just used one.”

“I don’t know, sunflower. I’m not a freaking doormat so I don’t know what their job entails. All I know is that the candies on this gingerbread house doormat is glittered so I’m getting it.”

The third item that Harry insanely purchases is a set of teaspoons with little gingerbread men, Christmas trees and stockings on top of the end of the spoon. It had no bananas in it, and no glitters, so it was only appropriate for Sophia to ask why he was getting it.

“I’m well aware that you already know that Anne has stocked us with some teaspoons in the kitchen, so I’m not going down that route. But those teaspoons have no bananas or glitters in them so why are you getting these nonsensical items this time, bunny?”

“Funny you say that, because this time we actually need some teaspoons in the bungalow to begin with.”

“No we don’t. Anne has her fine China set of cutleries, which includes teaspoons, that you gave her that one Christmas. Those are far more immaculate in quality than those you’re holding.”

“Well they’re also far more delicate than these babies I’m currently holding so it’s kind of no surprise that I bloody broke a few of them last night when I was trying to make myself a cuppa before heading to your bed.”

“Harry Edward Styles, you are dead to your own mother.”

And Sophia gladly reminded Harry in every teasing opportunity she got. Except that she didn’t think beforehand that it would actually work, and the next thing she knows, Harry is guilt-shopping while holding boxes of Christmas themed napkins.

“Bunny, I was just joking. I’m sure Anne wouldn’t mind that you broke some of her teaspoons.”

“Well that doesn’t help from making me feel better. So sunflower, just give me your opinion if I should get the napkins with different hot chocolate cups as its print, or the one with cats in adorable Santa hats.”

“Bunny, really I don’t th-”

“Baby! Please, just choose one? I promise it would make me feel not guilty anymore once you tell me your suggestion.”

“I mean.. Anne loves kittens so maybe the second option?”

“You’re absolutely correct, thanks for the valid input, sunflower. Now let’s head to the till and pay for this and then I’m going to look for an expensive tea set that can go with these napkins that will for sure make my mum forgive me.”

If there was no stopping Harry in the beginning, Sophia just shook her head in incredulity as she watched her best friend pay for the most expensive Mrs. Clause themed tea set she has ever seen. I mean seriously, the Mrs. Clause teapot made her look like a bloated balloon with her head as the lid of the pot, and her entire body as the body of the teapot. The worst feature for sure is that they made her nose as the spout of the pot. Who has a nose that long? And you can’t say Pinocchio either like what Harry answered when Sophia asked.

It was honestly just an unattractive tea set in all regards, Sophia doesn’t think Harry’s purchases can get anymore ridiculous than that.

Or so she thought.

The last ‘significant’ out of all the nonsensical rubbish Christmas items that Harry got, is a large box containing a dozen elves, a dozen gnomes, all wearing Christmas themed jumpers and comfy looking trousers. Some of them even hold gifts, cups of cocoa, a Christmas stocking, and Harry’s favorite: an elf holding a plate of a full Christmas roast.

“Now this is simply just your worst purchase of the day, bunny. I’m going to save my own sanity by not asking why you’re getting this..this..abomination of eerie Christmas rubbish.”

“Sunflower, don’t go calling them eerie, they’re beautiful.”

“Since when did the faces of elves and gnomes were classified beautiful?”

“Baby, it’s all about ‘unconventional beauty’, in my opinion. Regardless of that, I think they’d look perfect in my Christmas village set at the bungalow.”

“What? So that’s what this is for?”

“Yes. My Christmas village needs some sort of life in them, sunflower. That white Christmas ambiance of my miniature Christmas village can’t be wasted.”

“So you thought of buying a dozen each of elves and gnomes that can play the part?”

“Yup, precisely! Aren’t I clever?”

“The fuck?!”

What was Sophia thinking, really?

Regardless if she asks or not, her sanity will still not be in good shape when it comes to the wild character and immensely odd choices of her best friend.

The girl needs a break is what it is, and she’s hearing the cranberry sausage rolls calling her name even from far away.

There’s no way she can continue shopping with Harry, much less waiting for the ball to drop on New Year's Eve like the latter crazy boy had wished for.

Holiday peep! 😳 🎄🎁

HES - Bunny Shots

*** Stand-alone stories about Bunny and Sunflower set in no particular universe or timeline. These shots are not connected nor follow the same plot-line, unless specified.***

Happy reading, lovelies! 🌻

Grammy Bunny (post-Grammy party for the bunny.) Bunny's Love On Tour, Literally (before, during, and after Vegas.) Bunny and the Pearl Choker (the adventure of wanting to be the best boyfriend for Sunflower's 21st.) Bunny in Amalfi (Bunny just popped the question; engagement-moon shenanigans ensues.) Honey Bunny (For his every creation, one muse it behind it all. ABO au.) *on-going* "Yes please, Bunny." (Appreciation post for Bunny's Pleasing, with an addition of a curly bubby.) "Show your Bunny that you love him so-oh-oh.." (Best friends to lovers Christmas fic. featuring the best JB song of all time: Mistletoe.) *COMING THIS DECEMBER*

Bunny in Amalfi

Harry Styles had just popped the question about two weeks ago, binding Sophia and him in the first step to a happy holy matrimony. The two had only been together for less than two years, but when asked, they’ll say time before without each other was just merely a simulation and not real life at all. Harry and Sophia had first met in a print photoshoot, the two models first ever nude photoshoot, and that definitely helped start their friendship in a closer ground with literally no barriers to begin with.

Not even a month later, the two got together as a couple and their genuine chemistry during their first ever nude photoshoot was greatly loved by the public with more fashion brands booking them together as a couple for shoots and runway shows. Being jetsetter models together, it certainly allowed them to become closer in all regards of that word real fast, you will certainly learn and know everything about your partner when travelling in foreign countries outside the usual comfort zone of their home country.

With that being said, most people would probably think that they’ve experienced most of everything there is through visiting all these diverse countries and states. Though Sophia and Harry would like to differ, their work as models is not an easy task at all. They might be on the plane to Rio, Brazil in the morning and then Paris, France in the following hours but that doesn’t mean they were doing it for leisure. In fact, the two can barely even use their regular day-off in a foreign country to sight-see after being so tired the previous day from walking and posing in this direction to that.

So when the newly engaged couple decided to have an unconventional engagement-moon, they didn’t even bat an eye at every comment they got from family and friends alike who think the two should just save the funds for their honeymoon after the wedding. Instead, they packed together the largest single luggage they have in their closet filled with thin summer dresses and pollos and a bunch of different colored and patterned bikinis and trunks all perfect for the sunny Italian weather.

The Amalfi Coast is one of the most exquisite places on earth, and Sophia thinks their early alarm was worth it to catch the ferry ride from the port in Sorrento where their accommodation is at, to go to the bustling city of Positano just around the Amalfi Coast itself to spend the day there.

“Why did we opt to stay in Sorrento but mostly enjoy the amenities of Positano? It’s too early for this ferry ride, Sunflower.” Harry groans, dropping his face on her shoulder to block out the noise of other tourists finding seats within the massive ferry.

“Because there’s too many people in Positano and I don’t like too loud surroundings at night. And because you love me, you said yes without any questions. Is that a good answer for your question, my bunny?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I bet you used the same explanation when you tricked me into proposing to you.”

“Hey, that’s mean!” Sophia lightly swats him on his chest, trying to get his head away from its nestled state on her shoulder. “I didn’t trick you to do anything.” she pouts.

Harry just giggles at her disgruntled expression while finding a comfortable position for his head on her shoulder once again. Harry looks at Sophia’s beautiful bare face from underneath his sunglasses, knowing without a doubt that soon her cheeks would be flushed with a rosy hue just from a small exposure of the Italian sun, making her look more gorgeous, healthy and happy than ever. Harry can’t love Italy any more if it makes his Sunflower radiate contentment, damn the early hours and all that.

“You know I’m kidding, my Sunflower.” Harry soothes Sophia’s frown, hand on her thigh affectionately caressing the exposed skin from her jean shorts, “If anything else, you’re the one I tricked into saying yes.”

“Highly unlikely,” Sophia disagrees, smiling at Harry’s frown of confusion for not getting the bait to tease him. “I think I’ve said yes ages ago even before you dropped on one of your knees in our backyard in London.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asks, even more perplexed.

“What I’m saying is that you’ve got me hooked ever since the beginning, specifically, when you sank down on your knees, butt-naked, in front of my own naked body, and you looked at me from underneath as if you wanted to eat me out in front of our co-workers. How can I not say yes when the first time we met you already thought of a way to secure our future together with a new career if this modelling thing didn’t work.”

Harry smirks, “And what would that be, huh?”

Sophia rolls her eyes, giving Harry a dead-pan look, “You tell me, you’re the one who was stealing hungry looks at my vagina.”

“HEYYY!” Harry chastises her in laughter, sparingly smacking her thigh, “That’s so naughty of you, Sunflower! And this early in the morning, really? While we’re in Italy trying to have a wholesome time together as new fiancés in the serene and heavenly Amalfi Coast? You’re quite racy and that’s very naughty of you.”

“I’m not being naughty. Besides, you say that now,” Sophia snickers, interlocking her hand with Harry’s that’s placed on her thigh, “But don’t think I’d let your wandering hands anywhere near my scrumptious body later, and,” she taps his nose that’s nuzzling her neck for emphasis, “let’s see who’s being naughty when I see that lips and tongue of yours trying to find their way on any inch of my sun-kissed skin later.”

Harry giggles, smiling devilishly up at Sophia just like the first time he did on his knees during their first nude photoshoot, “You know how much I like my buns to be toasted.”

“And that’s you being hungry for my bum, you’re the naughty one.”

***

Much to Sophia’s dismay (well, not really), Harry has had his arms, hands, and attention all-over her the minute they stepped down the ferry. Harry is not one to let his fiancé go down those steep stairs of the ferry without any assistance, much accustomed to always having an arm around her whenever she’s wearing high heels for shows or shoots. That natural instinct to be gentlemanly and attentive to her needs and safety never leaves his system even if Sophia had told him she was alright to walk on her own by the time they’ve reached the wooden ground of the port dock in Positano.

“Also, I can carry our beach bag, you know?” Sophia says to a struggling Harry trying to carry their large Christian Dior book tote containing all their beach necessities and his other Gucci duffle bag consisting of his different camera for the trip, since Harry had apparently decided to be a professional photographer for their engagement-moon. The man can barely walk safely without the fear of tripping even without any constraints given to him.

“What kind of a fiancé do you think I am?” Harry responds, reaching for Sophia’s left hand to intertwine with his’ after getting their things together on his broad shoulders, “I’m here on this trip to show you how much of a doting husband I can be once we’re married already.”

“You already do that, though,” Sophia reassures him, smiling a little when Harry quickened his pace to go down the steps of the port dock before her, so he can help her go down with a study but gentle hold on her hand and arm.

“Thank you, kind sir.” Sophia remarks, doing a little curtsey that Harry returns once they’re on the grounds of the Positano beach itself, “As I was saying, you already are a doting husband material to begin with, bunny. You take it upon yourself to do my laundry when I’m tired, or wash the dishes I’ve left in the sink without being prompted to, heck, you even wash my makeup brushes for me cause you’re wary that I might get a rash if I don't clean it myself. No need to prove anything.”

Harry just shrugs, unfazed as he holds Sophia near him once again, the couple leisurely walking their way to confirm their reservation for their beachside seats, “That’s sweet of you, Sunflower. But maybe you can just let me be chivalrous, perhaps more often than regular apparently, just for this trip?”

“How can I deny my fiancé’s sweet requests?” Sophia replies, not really finding it anywhere within herself to deny any of that, “By all means, show me how you’d dote over your future wife.”

Harry’s smile brightens even more, Sophia thinks it might be even brighter than the freaking Italian sun shining on them.

“I hope you won’t regret saying that, Sunflower. Because I’m going to bloody lavish you with so much affection you won’t even recognize your previous domestic boyfriend Harry in London.”

Sophia simply cackles at his words, letting Harry go about his way to enter the building of the coast-side establishment to verify their reservation. Sophia just stands beside her fiancé the entire time he’s conversing with the beach staff to get what they need and all that, replying to any specific questions Harry asks her like what time they’d want to get their lunch served to them in their beach sunbeds, or if she wants extra towels (which she declines, not keen on using publicly shared towels that are meant to be clean but she’s skeptic about it).

Sooner than later, one of the staff led them towards their assigned beach sunbeds, which in Sophia’s opinion is the best one in the house because it’s conveniently at the front of everyone else's with the view of the Amalfi Coast gracing them just a few feet away. Sophia is genuinely ready to shed all other clothes adorning her sweating body and lounge under the morning sun in nothing but her blue Fendi bikini set. She’s about to suggest the same thing to Harry but when she turns back her attention to him after being captivated by their view, she frowns at what she sees.

“Baby, what are you doing?” Sophia asks her fiancé who’s cute little bum still covered with his own jean shorts (which is very unlikely of him in general especially when they’re on the beach, often she reprimands him for being too much of a nudist for a family-friendly beach), trying to move their sunbeds for some reason.

Harry grunts in acknowledgement to her question, walking to the other side to push her chosen sunbed more to the middle, muttering unpleasantly when he forgot to remove the side table in the middle. Sophia can’t help but be endeared even if Harry hasn’t really explained what he’s doing, and cheers along with him when Harry cheers in victory with his arms raised above him in glee for being able to push both their sunbeds in the middle.

“What do you think?” Harry asks, eyebrows raising up and down comically arms outstretched to showcase his invention.

“Beautiful, really.” Sophia indulges him, jokingly inspecting his work, “You pushed our sunbeds together in the middle?”

Harry drops his arms to his sides, squinting his eyes at her hidden from his sunglasses, “I made a single sunbed for the two of us? So we can be together, and beside each other for our entire stay here this afternoon.”

Chuckles take flight out of Sophia’s lips, always charmed at Harry’s sweet but weird antics. She can’t really completely comprehend Harry’s fascination with wanting to always be attached at the hip with her. Harry consistently found ways to have their makeup chairs to be beside each other during shoots, guiding her to sit on his lap during private jet rides, and even purchased them a baby pink tandem bicycle that Sophia’s not proud to admit how much she had enjoyed her time using it (not that she’d admit it to her fiancé verbally) when Harry had forced her to take it for a ride with him in a nearby park at their London home.

Sophia closes the distance between them, locking her arm around Harry’s neck as the latter wraps his own on her body in a compressed hug. She kisses his pouting lips, their sunglasses covered eyes hitting each other making them giggle at the clanking noise it produces.

“Thank you, bunny, for making us a single sunbed to enjoy. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to undress and enjoy this Italian summer heat in just my bikinis.” Sophia takes Harry’s arms away from her body and gently pushes on his shoulder for him to fall on the sunbed.

Harry whistles suggestively, arms raising above his head watching Sophia unbutton her white linen top, “Ohhh, front row seat for this exquisite Amalfi Coast scenery, and for a live strip show of world renowned supermodel, Sophia Styles? Fucking sign me up for that!”

“Shut up!” Sophia cackles along with Harry, throwing her now unbuttoned shirt to him who squeals in delight like some sort of fanboy that got to catch their idols used bottled water, “And who are you calling ‘Styles’? I ain’t one yet, babe.”

Harry rolls his eyes at her, “fiancé, wife, spouse, semantics! Now would you please continue your undressing performance? I was quite enjoying it.”

“Wow, thanks for even saying please, you cheeky bunny. And FYI, if this was a performance, I’d be charging you heavily.” Sophia wiggles her arse out her skintight denim shorts, the act earning embarrassingly loud ‘whoops’ and cheers from her crazy fiancé.

“HARRY!” Sophia quietly screeches, jumping beside him on the sunbed when she sees and feels other guests looking at their direction. “Don’t do that! You’re seriously embarrassing, people are lookin at us!”

Harry just raises an eyebrow at her, “I don’t know if you forgot, but we’re models who practically get our living out of people ogling at us.” Sophia was about to rebuttal but Harry silences her by placing his index finger directly on her lips.

“Shush, don’t want to hear any complaints from your precious little mouth. Now, rest your cute little bum on that sunbed and enjoy watching me give you a personal undressing performance. Not even going to charge you anything, cause lucky you, I’m your spouse.”

Sophia tries to speak despite Harry’s annoying massive finger in the way, “Not ye-”

“Shut it!” Harry reprimands without any real heat in his tone, squeezing her pouty lips on his finger, “I don’t understand why you’re complaining when I know for a fact you’ve been eyeing my delectable body since we’ve arrived here, waiting for me to shed my clothes off.”

Sophia also doesn’t know why she’s protesting, so he lets his crazy little arse do its thing and welcomes his now bare chest and itty bitty blue trunks back to her arms on their conjoined sunbed. Even in the warmth of their current destination, Harry and Sophia remain to be cuddled-up together relaxing and just lounging about despite the sweat being produced by their slick barely dressed bodies. At some point, one of them would take a dip at the very blue Italian ocean just at their lucky disposal, while the other would continue sunbathing on their sunbed waiting with a fresh towel on their lap.

When lunch time comes around, Harry has just returned from a dip, shaking his wet curl like an excited puppy as Sophia giggly makes him stop while drying him off with his towel. “Can we please have lunch now?” she asks.

Harry plops his wet bum on his seat, hands brushing his springy curls away from his face, “No need to ask twice, I’m positively famished.”

“Good, chop-chop then!” Sophia claps her hands in enthusiasm, laughter spewing from Harry’s lips, “Come on, hop those cute little bunny legs of yours to fetch the waiter.”

“Well aren’t you a bossy little Sunflower?”

Harry follows her fiancé's orders nonetheless, asking one of the nearby staff to kindly call a waiter who can get their orders. The waiter arrives shortly after, standing at the bottom of their sunbed while Harry and Sophia are snuggled nicely on their seats looking at the menu to pick their chosen dishes. At first, Sophia thinks maybe the waiter has recognized who they are as she feels her eyes constantly looking back and forth at the two of them. But then when Harry starts nosing at her cheek and pulling her barely covered body closer to his, big ring-less hands softly caressing her tummy (that were maybe just placed little bit lower than publicly acceptable), when the waitress quickly averts his eyes away from them but quickly looks back like a moth to a flame and then look away again.

Sophia finds that odd, especially when Harry starts to say their orders to her and Sophia begins to affectionately rubs her cheek that’s resting on Harry’s chest, her lips puckering to drop featherlight kisses on the bare skin of his sexy swallow bird tattoo, and their waiter begins to stutter upon repeating their orders to them.

“Sunflower, I think she was uncomfortable from our PDA.” Harry observes, right after their waiter has left.

“What PDA?” Sophia answers, confused but not bothered as she continues to now nip on Harry’s collarbone and broad shoulder.

“This, whatever you’re doing now and a while ago.” Harry explains, his right hand coming up to Sophia’s wet blonde hair to massage her scalp.

“I didn’t see you stopping me now and a while ago when she was here.”

Harry snorts, “Don’t you know me? I’m the affection-starved in this relationship, why will I deny such kind blessings being presented my way?”

“Good, keep being that way and ignore others; it’s not like we were having public sex or something.” Sophia mutters.

“Is that an invitation I hear?”

Sophia laughs at the apparent hopeful expression on Harry’s face, she taps his chest instead as an answer, “Nah, I’d rather receive pleasure through you feeding me with our lunch.”

Harry pinches the little pudge that he loves so much on her stomach, “How kinky of you?”

***

For their second day in their engagement-moon, Harry and Sophia had mutually agreed that maybe they shouldn’t follow through with their initial plan of constantly waking-up early every morning just to catch the ferry going to Positano and the other cities around the Amalfi Coast. Clearly, they had underestimated the wonders that the Italian summer weather may cause to their languid bodies and in addition, the amazing Italian foods have been nothing short but heavenly has only made the couple want to slow down and just laze about while hand-feeding each other with some freshly baked focaccia with a plate of fresh burrata and cherry tomatoes just by their reach. Harry had also impulsively booked them a little luxury yacht complete with amendments for an afternoon sail around the Amalfi Coast.

“I can’t believe I let you do this,” Sophia says to her fiancé who’s also changing beside her to his swimming trunks in the little bedroom inside the yacht. “This must have been so expensive, H. Have you seen the complementary Versace robes and Gucci slides in the living room? Our yacht captain said it's for us to take home, like it’s ours after we use it today.”

Harry looks at her with clear amusement in his features while helping her tie little knots on the strings of her bikini bottom, “I would be surprised if I didn’t know about it since I’m the one who booked and paid for this. Besides, we work for those brands on a daily basis. What's so new about using designer stuff?”

Harry has a valid point, but Sophia’s not here to admit that to him and make him smug. So she just narrows her eyes at him in dissatisfaction and walks back to the living area of the yacht with Harry hot on her trail.

“I do wear designer stuff a lot of the times, thanks to our careers,” Sophia agrees, easily lifting her arms to put inside the said Versace robe that Harry’s holding open for her to wear, “but that doesn't mean I’m going to buy some on my own will without a proper thought over if I really need it or not.”

Harry must have caught-on to what this conversation is going to lead to based on Sophia’s tone, his shoulders now comfortably wrapped with the luxurious material of the robe, deflates. Harry begins to give Sophia an apologetic look, the latter just looking at him knowingly.

Sophia knows they’re not on this trip to argue, but she has to say this regardless of their celebration trip, “I think that it’s just not wise to buy expensive things without thinking twice about it. We’re getting married really soon, bunny. And even though we’re much more well-off than others because of our modelling jobs, it would be really good if we start saving and spending our money in a much smarter and efficient way. You want our future kids to not be burdened by financial challenges while they’re growing-up right?”

Harry’s pouting now, his head still nodding in agreement regardless if he’s being told-off. Harry reaches for Sophia’s hand and gently cradles it on his own. “You’re right, Sunflower. I’m sorry that I didn’t think twice or consult you before booking this luxurious thing.”

Sophia squeezes his hand, feeling the sincerity in his voice, “I know you are, and I forgive you easily. It’s our engagement-moon, so I understand where this want to celebrate and spend is coming from. Let’s just tone it down a bit from here on out on this trip, yeah?. You know that I’d still feel cherished and happy if you decide to take me on a walk around town and act as my tourist guide since you love and know so much more about Italy than I do, my adorable Italian-like bunny.”

Harry giggles, a small smile now gracing his lips replacing his earlier pout, “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. And I’m sorry again, I promise no more spending a lot after this. I’m sorry for dampening our mood on just our second day.”

Sophia begins to frown now, “Hey, no more sorrys, okay? And you didn’t dampen any mood, I’m not extremely mad or disappointed.”

“But you are, lovie. At least a little bit disappointed in me, and I’m sorry for causing that. I’ll do better, I promise.”

Sophia does not at all like the saddened expression on Harry’s face, no matter how determined he looks at proving himself on committing better choices next time. To soothe his emotions and take his mind away from this instance, Sophia sweetly requests for Harry to apply her sunblock for her out in the deck of the yacht. She knows her fiancé, knows how to use her body (when really needed) as a distraction.

She feels Harry’s aura instantly lift and brighten once again as she’s lying on her front in the wide deck bed of the yacht with Harry sitting on her thighs while his hands apply and massage the sunscreen to Sophia’s skin. Sophia lets him take his time, genuinely enjoying Harry’s relaxing and comforting touch, finding her eyes to naturally close in bliss. It opens wide though when she feels something oddly familiar between her thighs.

“Harry..” Sophia exhales, “What is that I feel on the back of my thighs? Please tell me it’s not what I think it is.”

Without even seeing Harry’s face, Sophia knows there’s an evident smirk on his cherubic face, “Sunflower, I don’t know what you want me to tell you..” and he even makes it a point to press said ‘thing’ further into the skin of her thigh.

And yup, that ‘thing’ is definitely the thing Sophia was afraid of. Especially when she feels that it was oddly hard.

Sophia groans, hiding her face on her folded arms, “Bunny, thank you for your honesty. But may you please tell me, why are you aroused in the middle of the afternoon as we’re innocently cruising around the Amalfi Coast?”

Gone is Harry’s earlier saddened and dejected baby demeanor, now replaced with a promiscuous bunny behavior with his hands continuously caressing her skin regardless that the sunscreen has been fully absorbed by her skin already. Actually, Harry even becomes more brave with his actions and takes it a step further by simultaneously sliding his hands down to her side-boobs as he pushes his groin area on the plump flesh of her bikini bottom covered arse.

“Are we talking about my hard cock?” Harry’s tone laced with downright cheek, gentle wide hands trying to squeeze his hands between the deck bed to cup Sophia’s breasts.

Sophia cackles at the unexpected action, bum raising up in initial shock connecting even more with Harry’s situation earning a squeak from her and a groan from Harry.

“Bunny! Stop!” Sophia squirms from his weight on top of her, successfully positioning herself in a sitting position with her own hands cupping her breasts, eyes narrowing at Harry’s disgruntled and flush look, trying to keep in her giggles at how ridiculous this whole thing is.

But Sophia fails nonetheless, peals of laughter coming out from her in no time, “Did you seriously just get hard from applying sunscreen on my body? Are you a teenager or what?”

Harry raises his arms in surrender, earnestly replying, “I can’t help it. Like, have you seen your body? Anyone from the age of 13 to 100 would get the same reaction, no doubt.”

“Eww..” Sophia’s nose scrunches at the unwanted mental image that gave her, “I don’t want to think about that, nor for people to think and see me like that to get that kind of reaction. Now can you please hand me my bikini top right there beside you so we can prevent that from happening?”

Sophia notices it the moment that something clicks within Harry, like some sort of light bulb turned on in his wits and Sophia can only begin to look in slight horror as the mischievous smile begins to form on Harry’s lips. It’s enough to signal Sophia of his next actions and she quickly tries to reach with one of her short arms her bikini top.

“I don’t think so!” Harry quickly sprang into action and snatched Sophia’s bikini top on his grasp, using his long arm to block her way.

“Bunny! What the heck, give it to me!” Sophia screeches, tightening her crossed arms across her naked chest as he tries to chase around a running Harry who’s laughingly flailing her white bikini top on top of his head like some sort of victory flag, “What are you even doing? Stop being ridiculous!”

“Am I being ridiculous?” Harry stops on his run, arm still raised above out of Sophia’s reach, “You’re the one who’s not wearing a top, so who’s more ridiculous, really? Me, the virtuous one wholly covered in my robe, or the insane lady trying to chase me around with her bouncing tits barely being covered by her scrawny arms?”

Alright, that’s a direct hit on her now, Sophia thinks as determination begins to flow on her veins, “Did you just call my arms scrawny? Like a synonym for skinny?”

Sophia laughs evilly in her head as the ever-present smug smile on Harry’s features doesn’t seem so present anymore upon seeing a change in her air. But her fiancé is nothing but a banter-loving and a self-proclaimed menace from birth till death. So it doesn’t surprise her when his smile returns, delinquent tones in ten folds.

Bravely, Harry replies, “I did. What are you going to do about it? Gonna hit me with your skinny and weak arms?”

Sophia basks in the witch-like cackle that she lets out, arms covering her breasts dropping to her sides in an instant. Her smugness gains in momentum as Harry’s eyes follow the now revealed clear skin of her breasts, dark rosy nipples his definite kryptonite.

“Yeah, I think that’s exactly what you want me to do.”

And then they’re having a full-on chase around the entire mini yacht, Sophia no longer giving a fuck if their captain or the godforsaken creepy paparazzi get a handful look of her tits as long as she gets to keep hearing Harry’s loud, dulcet laugh ringing in her ears forever. There’s nothing sweeter than hearing the tangible laughter of your lover’s happiness, one that you’re even the reason behind.

***

The couple made sure that their time in the luxury yacht will be one of the bestest and finest experiences they’ve had in Italy. Sophia thinks it’s only justifiable to ask their captain to slow down or sail back again to a specific spot in the vast clear blue sea of the Amalfi Coast for her to find the perfect background of the beautiful scattered Italian homes and buildings situated on the hillsides to take pictures of, and as her personal background as Harry directs her to pose this way and that; it’s justifiable because it was bloody expensive and Sophia will damn make sure these pictures are worth printing and putting up in their home. Besides, when the sun began to set and lights from from the quaint Italian homes begin to brighten the darkening orange sky, Harry had delicately pulled her body to his, suddenly kissing her pleasantly without any prompt as Sophia heard the unmistakable click of a self-timed shutter in one of Harry’s fancy digital cameras. That one for sure, Harry would get printed once they’ve landed back in London.

Though all those lovely moments are now kept stored in Sophia’s Harry=Happiness memory bank, their third day in Italy is now her main priority. True to Harry’s predictions, Sophia has been thoroughly tan already this early on in their trip to the point that too much exposure to the sun kind of hurts unpleasantly already, Harry not faring any better. So as they took turns applying cool aloe vera gel in their heated skins last night, the couple had discussed to veer away from the sea and the beaches for their third day, and instead have planned to have a stroll around the less-crowded streets of Sorrento and to shop smartly at the local stores and markets.

That’s their current agenda in this moment, Sophia contently swinging Harry and hers clasped hands between them as they leisurely walk and sightsee the warm toned sceneries offered by Sorrento. Sophia giggles for the nth time this early in the morning when Harry once again whispers in her ears how effortlessly graceful and lovely she looks in her short yellow slip dress with hot pink flowers scattered around it.

“And, I think it was a prime decision to use this hot pink Prada re-edition 2000 nylon mini bag.” Harry adds, dropping a little kiss on her temple.

Sophia quirks her eyebrow at him, “You’re just saying that cause you’re the one who suggested it.”

“Okay, but it was done out of a reasonable explanation beca-”

“Because it perfectly matches the shade of pink of the flowers in your/my dress.” Sophia cuts in and joins Harry to mutter the exact same sentence he had said ever since the instant that she’d dressed comfortably in his presence earlier this morning.

“I see, you’re learning.” Harry jests, nosing at her cheek endearingly, “Now, I think I’m seeing a ceramic store just a few feet away from us. Let’s check it out so I can teach you this time the different kinds of plates and dishware and their specific usages.

Sophia doesn’t want to ruin his merry parade by saying there’s no need nor space in her brain to retain that kind of information, and instead allows Harry to guide her to cross the street and enter the local ceramic shop with the ever gentleman her bunny is opening the door for her.

The minute the couple has made it inside, Harry takes it upon himself to tour her around the shop and point and hold for her the specific dishware he’s describing (which she quickly intercepts and holds the fragile ceramics, knowing how clumsy her fiancé is), quite impressing Sophia by the abundant knowledge he has about bloody plates and bowls. Harry was probably talking too loudly, like every time he gets excited and passionate about something (like green drinks and rings) because the store owner approaches them and begins to speak in Italian.

Since Sophia only knows the most basic (if any at all, to be blatantly honest) of Italian, she lets Harry take the reins for this conversation as she nods and shakes her head in what she assumes is the appropriate time for it, picking the pieces that catch her fancy. Since they’ve agreed to spend wisely, after Harry’s chat with the kind store owner who had recommended the best of his works to them, Harry and Sophia are now in the till getting their chosen ceramics wrapped and paid shortly after.

“Why did you get two salad bowls?” Harry asks upon seeing it getting wrapped, “I think we already have a bunch at home.”

Sophia shrugs her shoulders, “I couldn’t pick which design I wanted the most. Like I love the vibrant yellow tones of the intricate lemon patterns on one of them, and then I also adore the detailed lemon tree on the other. Couldn’t just buy one and leave the other on the shelf.”

“Well did you not learn anything about the specific functions various dishware can be used for? Like, don’t you think we can make more use of mugs than salad bowls since we already have so much of them in our cupboards?”

Sophia smiles, cupping Harry’s left cheek and tapping it lightly, “Bunny, I’m buying them for their looks, not their functions. And please, you can’t fool me into buying more mugs for your mug collection in our cupboard. I’m not the only one who likes to hoard specific ceramics.”

Harry laughs loudly at being caught, dimples popping easily creating picturesque craters on his adorable cheeks, “Alright, looks like I’m marrying a salad bowl hoarder. How lucky of me.”

Sophia reaches up on her tip-toes to press a kiss on his smiling lips, “And I’m also lucky for getting the chance to marry a mug hoarder. I love you.”

“I love you too, my Sunflower.”

Their time in the ceramic shop ends after that, the two finding themselves in the narrow streets of Sorrento where some of the market stalls are located. Once again, Harry takes the lead of conversing with the local sellers to find the best deals and varieties of the goods they’re selling. At the moment, they’re stopped at a stall selling locally planted and harvested goods from the owner's private farm here in Sorrento. Harry has about tasted every variety of their homemade cheese, has bought a carton of their farm-grown chicken eggs, has chosen the basket of tomatoes of his liking, and is currently taste testing different lemons, which in Sophia’s honest opinion, isn’t even necessary, how different can each slice be when a lemon is simply just a lemon?

Nonetheless, Sophia lets Harry be, content in looking around her lively surroundings with her thumb clicking pictures away from her phone of anything that captures her attention in this quaint Italian market. Everything was going dandy, until Sophia notices that the stall owner that Harry has been conversing with, leaves to attend to another customer who seems to be a local and a regular based on the rapt attention the owner gives. Replacing his spot is a woman who she assumes is his daughter based on their distinct physical similarities, who eagerly attends to Sophia’s finances like a schoolgirl trying to do everything in her ability to please her crush.

Sophia might not be knowledgeable in Italian, but she is fully adept and a master of the language of flirting. Just one look at the woman’s pink cheeks, and eyelashes fluttering so much and so fast like she has some sort of a blinking disorder, Sophia already knows this woman is up to no good.

Because of the nature of their job, both Sophia and Harry are quite familiar and relaxed with the attention they receive from others, despite the fact that they’re souls are pretty much entwined for life and suggestive looks and advances from others are some of the things they’d like to receive much less of. Thankfully, their very affectionate nature translates greatly to the public, and actual flirting and suggestive advances have been very minimal. But of course, there’s just some special incidents that they’re present, like this instant.

Sophia’s not a jealous person, not at her core. However, there’s a new sense of possessiveness that seems to have been newly ingrained within her ever since Harry asked for her hand in marriage. She doesn’t know what it is, but every time she looks at her left ring finger and sees that glimmering rock safely and tightly nestled there, makes her feel extremely jovial with an added mixture of feeling powerful, like she now has the official rights to everything she desires, especially Harry’s love and devotion.

With narrowed eyes, Sophia’s determined to show this Italian woman who Harry belongs to. No matter how harmless her flirting might seem, Sophia does not take it lightly when she sees the woman had the audacity to hand-feed Harry with the sliced lemons. The uncomfortable look on her fiancé's face when her fingers forcefully prodded at his lips to open up, makes irritation crawl at Sophia’s skin.

Nobody gets to fucking do that, except for me, Sophia thinks as she unclenches her balled-up fists and finally strides to Harry’s personal space to save him.

“Bunny,” Sophia drawls much loudly than necessary based on their already too close proximity, “May I please have a taste of the lemons?” she asks prettily, the same tone she uses whenever she wants Harry’s undivided attention but is too shy to ask for it directly. Also, remembering to use proper grammar (‘May, lovie, not can!’ As Harry had expressed every time she kindly asks him to turn the lights off in their room, Sophia not giving a single shit to her grammar when all she wants to do is sleep) knowing how weirdly endeared Harry gets when she does it.

The tone always makes Harry so soft for her, never one to hide his naturally excessive affection and attention towards her especially when Sophia’s asking for it.

The same thing happens here wherein Harry’s lips instantly quirk up, aura instantly pliant, answering her willingly, “Of course, my Sunflower, anything you want you may get from how polite you are. Here you go,”

Harry tries to reach for a slice of lemon arranged on the plate the now frowning Italian woman is holding, however, Sophia quickly cups his cheek to turn towards her face, making sure that her engagement ring is directly facing the Italian flirt. Raising to her tip-toes, Sophia captures Harry’s unknowing full lips in a passionate kiss that their mothers would probably call them out for if they were here, saying that it was definitely too much and borderline rude for public viewing.

But Sophia doesn’t give a fuck, clearly bustling in her skin upon seeing the shock look of affront on the Italian flirt’s face from her peripheral vision. Harry’s perplexed expression greets her triumphed face after she releases his lips with a deep bite on his bottom lip.

Before Harry can verbalize his confusion, Sophia starts to perform the real art of flirting (she thinks this can also help the Italian woman if she wants to flirt more successfully with other innocent Brits on their engagement-moons, she’d accept the thanks later).

Sophia tones down her smile of victory to something more bashful, widening her big blue eyes just enough to achieve that innocent bambi eyes effect. She begins to flutter her eyelashes in no way near the speed that woman was doing earlier, batting it slowly and moderately as she looks underneath her long lashes at Harry. The final killing shot as Sophia likes to call it, is the calculated move of her lips, jutting out at just the perfect angle of a tiny pout. It’s not a sad pout, a mad pout, or an annoyed pout, it’s simply the enchanting flirting pout.

With Sophia’s left hand blatantly showcasing her ring still resenting on Harry’s cheek, she starts to rhythmically caress the slightly stubbled skin of his round cheek, speaking in faint boyishness.

“Thought it would be good to have a little bit of the sweetness of your taste to cut the tanginess of the lemon, you know how much I don’t like sour things, right bunny?”

And it works.

Harry’s earlier confusion is replaced by an intense dazed stare, as if he’s completely under whatever flirting spell Sophia has placed on him. He even nods his head, his own hand rising to clutch her hand that’s on his cheek as if to ground him and prevent him from floating away in her love charm.

“Yeah?” Harry replies just as softly in his slow, deep drawl, “Was the taste of my lips sweet enough to lessen the sourness of the lemon?”

Sophia grins, “Totally. It’s sweet enough that I might consider you buying some of these lemons and making us that lemon tart. Remember, bunny? The one we had right after you proposed to me?”

Harry just nods eagerly like the completely love-dazed bunny that he is, “The one I specifically made with the fresh lemons we bought that day in the farmers market in Hampstead? You know, I made sure to get the less sour ones for you, my love, because I wanted you to remember forever the dessert I made for you after I proposed and asked you to be my wife. You’d let me make us another one? Are you sure, sunflower? Don’t wanna make something that you don’t like that much.”

Sophia coos, Harry’s adorable rambling is utterly charming, “I’m sure, bunny. I’d eat anything you make because I love my fiancé a bunch. Besides, I think this kind lady selling you lemons will highly appreciate you purchasing some, yeah?”

The couple turn their attention to the Italian woman after being submerged in their own flirting world, this is the first time Sophia actually gets a good look at the woman after she had started her conniving ways to show the Italian flirt that Harry’s very much taken care of already. And boy, is Sophia having a hard time to control the smug expression trying to emerge on her features as the Italian woman is positively seething and red-flushed in her rooted position with the plate of lemons still on her raised hold.

The woman begins to speak in Italian very quickly to Sophia’s amusement and lack of understanding a single thing that left her lips. She thinks she doesn’t mind it though because it seemed to quicken their time spent here as whatever the woman said prompted Harry to finally choose the lemons he wants and to pay for the other things he had picked earlier. The next thing Sophia knows, the Italian flirt huffs indignantly at the two of them right after Harry has said his thanks and held her hand securely with his free one.

***

So, Sophia might have not taken into consideration the consequences of her art of flirting and possessive display of affection at Harry earlier. She doesn't know how it slipped her mind that Harry gets extremely turned-on whenever she overtly acts minx like.

The sexual tensions radiating out of her bunny was quite palpable the moment they made their way back to their rented Italian villa, the lovely and jittery Harry expressing quite simply that he wants to just go back at their place when Sophia had asked him where they should go next in the town of Sorrento.

It hits her why he wants that when Harry all-out attacks her with his skin-burning and soul-tingling kisses when they’ve finally arrived at the confines of their villa, pushing her back right against the closed front door, his own body pressed firmly against hers.

Their passionate kissing halts as simultaneous moans of pleasure escape their bitten-red lips when Harry’s tenting shorts rub against Sophia’s pulsing hot heat underneath her dress.

“Fuck,” Harry rubs against her again more purposely, the two moaning in unison, “Feel what you do to me, sunflower? You got me fucking rock hard from your little possessive stint there at the market earlier. Don’t even know why you got jealous, but shit, my fiancé’s hot when she’s jealous.

Sophia clings to Harry’s body even more, rutting up against him eagerly in the little rhythm they’ve started, “I honestly don’t know either, but the moment she started her horrible flirting on you, I just badly wanted to show her you’re mine. Fuck, oh bunny, keep going that’s so good.”

Sophia does not even care anymore if all they do is rut up against each other, fully clothed like teenagers sneaking around and trying to literally keep it in their clothes while still wanting to get each other off. It’s honestly surprising to Sophia that Harry’s will power seems to be much stronger than she initially thought with his extremely love-dazed loopiness from earlier. A shocked loud moan erupts from her when Harry picks her up all of a sudden, her legs and arms wrapping tightly around Harry in instinct as he carries her to somewhere she doesn’t know and mind at all as long as kissing and the caress of Harry’s lips on her heated skin never stops.

With her eyes closed, she gasps in surprise as the distinctly familiar Italian summer breeze hit her physique, knowing well enough now that Harry has definitely brought them outside their private veranda overlooking the surrounding nature and the roofs of the other villas who also had their own verandas that are slightly in-view of theirs.

Harry places her back on the ground, gently yet expertly maneuvering her body around with lips sucking bruises on the back of her neck as he guides Sophia on the railing of their veranda, her hands finding purchase on the cold metal with her bum slightly raised due to Harry’s clever hands holding them up in place, and he resumes grinding his crotch to hers in this new position with Harry on her back in full-control.

“Yes, fuck..” Sophia moans when Harry wraps an arm around her waist to keep her body up-right with her back pressed tightly on his heaving front. “More, bunny. Give me more.”

Sophia feels the smirk on Harry’s lips at the side of her neck, probably finding it amusing when she tries to move her lower body to chase the friction of their privates rubbing together that Harry has momentarily slowed down.

“Look at you, so eager..” Harry grants her one rough grind of his extremely hard cock, making sure to add the most pressure on her covered sensitive bud, the loud moan Sophia exhales quickly turns into an agitated whine when Harry withdraws any friction yet remains in contact with her pulsing cunt.

“Sunflower, you might want to slow down and keep it quiet, yeah? We don’t want you starting another scene if the other patrons in their villas hear you.” Harry whispers teasingly in her ear, his broad wet tongue salaciously licks her lobe.

Sophia grunts, tries to wiggle her bum to get the friction back. Harry’s strong hold around her waist prevents her from succeeding. “I don’t fucking care, bunny! Let them hear me getting fucked so good, that way they know I’m appreciating what’s mine cause my bunny is only mine to get fucked on.”

“Hmm, you’re the only one who I get to fuck and who gets to love me and praise me for it, is that right, lovie?” Harry hums, his left hand slowly making its way underneath her dress to which Sophia wishes lands on the place she wants his touch the most.

“Yes, yes.” Sophia nods wantonly, “You’re the only one, bunny. My only fiancé that gets my body feeling so good I can’t stop screaming how good you are, always gets me so fucking speechless-dumb from how good you give it to me, bunny.”

Harry chuckles darkly, left hand swiftly sliding down Sophia’s small little panties, cupping her already slick-leaking pussy which elicits a loud pleased moan out of her.

“You really know how to use your sweet words against me,” Harry remarks, middle and ring finger parting her lips to rub slow yet firm circles on her highly sensitive clit. “Guess I’m not the only one who gets stupidly love-charmed, huh? You’re gonna take everything I’ll give you and be my best girl by screaming your little lungs out to show how much you love it?”

“Ohh fuck, oh my god..” Sophia moans in instant pleasure not only due to Harry’s nimble fingers toying with her sensitive nub, but his salacious words don’t help either in slowing down the steady stream of her wetness ruining her designer underwear.

“I haven’t even started my special moves on your body yet, and you're already lost for words like I’d already performed my highly acclaimed fuckery skills.”

Sophia knows she shouldn’t, but she can’t help the loud laugh that erupts from her still aroused body at what Harry had just said. She’s not sure what’s she’s done in the past to be so lucky to have a boy that’s both lewd and ridiculously weird when it comes to sex.

“Special moves, and highly acclaimed fuckery skills?” Sophia quotes back, now thankfully reduced to giggles instead of howling laughter, “Are shitting you me, H? Why would you say that at this specific moment we’re having? With your hand literally on my cunt?”

Harry to his credit, chuckles with her and not at all offended at her reaction, “Just wanted to hear your melodious laughter before I ruin you to well pleased tears.”

Sophia was probably busy laughing her head off from Harry’s earlier statement because she genuinely did not feel nor hear him remove any of his clothes and yet his left hand had suddenly disappeared from inside her panties and is now slipping the crotch to the side, with the head of his cock pressing the surface of her folds.

Sophia moans in actual, unadulterated surprise, “Fuck! You’re magic, ohhh god more.”

Harry chuckles at her surprise reaction, though moans in pleasure just the same as he continues to rub his pre-come leaking cock on her pussy lips without breaching inside her warmth yet.

“See, I told you I have renowned fuckery skills.”

Sophia grins despite Harry not being able to see her with his face squished at the side of her neck leaving kisses, kitten licks, and sharp quick nips with his teeth.

“Fucking put your prick inside me already and I might just agree wholeheartedly with you.”

Harry groans in rapture, sucking a surely big and deep bruise on her neck, distracting Sophia for a second to what she had wanted. And when Harry suddenly plunges his prick inside her, it surprises Sophia so much that she jumps a little from the intrusion with her upper body falling forward and her hands finding purchase on the railings of the veranda. Thankfully Harry’s arms around her prevented her from face-falling to the ground, the latter hoisting her body upwards again as he thrusts his cock deeply inside her.

“Can’t go anywhere, sunflower.” Harry moans to her ears, enthusiastically pounding into her sweltering hot cunt, Sophia keening in pleasure as every time Harry thrust out before deeply thrusting back in, she feels her own juices flowing down to her thighs. The squeaky, wet noise of their bodies gyrating and thumping roughly together, added with the obscene sounds of the skin of Harry’s balls slapping the glistening hood of her clit, is everything that Sophia can hear in her lust-blown state.

“Not going anywhere, don’t wanna fucking go anywhere, ahhh shitt that’s so good oh my god, keep fucking that prick into me!”

Sophia’s ardent shrieks of pleasure probably affects Harry’s similar burning state of desire, his hips increasing its pounding speeds and hitting her pussy walls even deeper to the point that the couple abruptly stops in surprise when they feel his dick pressing all the way in Sophia’s stomach.

“Oh my god, you’re in my stomach, jesus fucking christ that’s deep,” Sophia mewls loudly when Harry resumes his movement with an experimental thrust, likely trying to make sure that it doesn’t hurt for her when he pounds this deep up to her stomach.

“You like that? Feeling my dick in your belly?” Harry the smug fuck that he is, even places a hand underneath Sophia’s bunched up dress to press his bulging dick on the skin of her stomach, Sophia screaming in utter euphoria. “I know sunflower, I know. It’s so fucking good that you can’t even say anything coherent anymore, huh? God, I can feel your pussy squeezing me and fuck me, your leaking wet cunt makes me just want to devour you after this.”

Sophia begins to return Harry’s thorough, rapid impaling of his dick on her positively pulsing vagina from his pistoning position from behind her, moaning and whimpering incessantly as she tries to find some simple words to say, “Uhh..nrgghh..noo, keep fucking, ohhh come please.”

“Come? You wanna come?” Harry parrots back, Sophia nodding vigorously with non-coherent pleads leaving her kissed-bruised lips, her body bouncing frantically to Harry’s rabid thrusting inside her, all thoughts laser focused on chasing her high.

Harry’s left hand returns to toy on her clit, rubbing furiously in time with his pounding, Sophia involuntarily shuddering at the intense sensations, “You can fucking come on my prick, yeah? My sunflower is so lovely and so good that she can release her cum anytime she wants. You gonna come, sunflower?”

Sophia feels overwhelmed, her gut clenching to the familiar feeling of her near release, “Yes, so good, bunny’s so good.” she babbles without thought, making Harry chuckle despite their fanatical fucking.

“Thank you sunflower, I know you're good too cause you’re going to come for me, huh? You’re going to come cause I make you feel so fucking good.”

If it’s even possible, Harry really starts fucking Sophia like a bunny in heat that not even a minute later, Sophia’s screaming in exultation as she finally comes.

“YES! BUNNY, YES!” Sophia allows her body to release every jubilation she currently feels; might it be in the form of her unrelenting screams and whimpers, the slow stream of highly satisfied tears wetting her cheeks, or the hot, sticky cum gushing down from inside her cunt, down to her dainty ankles. Everything intensifies again when Sophia feels Harry’s dick begin to twitch inside her, pumping his warm cum within her.

“Holy shit.” Sophia tiredly exhales, hearing Harry hiss from behind her as he disconnects his now soft cock away from her vagina, said vagina now begins to excrete Harry’s cum mixing with her own release in a white and viscous liquid slowly trickling down her legs.

“There’s no way that’s only the amount of load I deposited in you,” Harry suddenly says in a tone of incredulity, eyes looking down at the mess on Sophia’s legs.

Sophia snorts in reply, rolling her eyes at his questioning, “Why do you have to ask that? You sound like a total idiot.”

Harry wiggles his eyebrows playfully, “An idiot who gave you a huge amount of cum, now squeeze that beautiful cunt of yours to push-out anymore of my semen that’s still in your tummy cause I don’t want you to get any UTI.”

Sophia feels endeared despite his manner of questioning from earlier, obediently squeezing out more of Harry’s ejaculation resulting the latter to dip a finger on the bubbling white substance on her inner thighs and making a show of sucking his mixed-cum covered finger in front of her.

“Harry,” Sophia widens her eyes at him, “We’re not going again, not gonna happen.”

Harry pouts his now white stained lips, “But I said that I wanted to eat you out earlier. Come on, sunflower. We still have a lot of time left before we go out for dinner. What can we possibly do instead of me having a go with you again? With my mouth this time, though.”

“I don’t know? Maybe we can go to the nearest jewelry shop here to get a ring on that left finger of yours so no other Italian flirt can even think about trying to seduce you again?”

“And lessen the chances of getting to fuck like rabbits again? I don’t think so. In fact, I think we can add possessive/jealous fucking to my list of kinks.

***

Their fourth day in Italy is hot beyond belief.

Not in the ‘hot’ way with Harry following his desires from yesterday of eating Sophia out, but ‘hot’ in the literal sense of the burning temperature.

Despite sleeping in the nude last night, Harry and Sophia had woken-up tangled together from head to toe, the duvet of theirs had seemingly found solace on the floor of their bed if their sweat-glistening skin are any indication that it must have been a literal steamy night. Ever since they’ve woken-up and gotten their bearings, the couple had forgone wearing anything beside Harry in his yellow trunks, and Sophia in her matching yellow bikini set. It was also probably the constant sweltering heat that had affected their lazy mood of the day as moving too much resulted in exerting more energy, which led to letting out more sweat.

So for their fourth day, Harry and Sophia had comfortably settled in the confines of their Italian villa, mostly residing in the comfortable, decent sized living area, or when it’s really too hot inside, the two lounge around the open-area of their veranda in one of the two lounge beds located there. Much to Sophia’s dismay, her evidently sweaty skin does not scare Harry away from finally settling down on his own lounge bed. No matter the amount of pleading and whining Sophia performs just to persuade him to stop crowding her already warm personal space, Harry had been keen in staying glued to her side by bringing out a book to read for him and her. Knowing Harry though, he can’t sit still for the life of him especially when he’s chilling time has been reduced to reading which normally, the boy does not do unless it’s late at night and he can’t sleep.

Luckily for Sophia, Harry does end up being restless when after their delivered lunch of fresh margarita pizza and too many different kinds of Italian bread that Harry had stupidly ordered because he apparently, ‘loves bread so much he just had to taste every single one of them’ then proceeds to the bathroom after taking a huge bite of the sixth kind, saying he needed a wee. We all know that’s not the case, and the disturbing wrenching sounds Sophia has overheard when she had passed the bathroom area is enough proof of that. So, a now extremely bread-full Harry does not have it in his sanity to lay back down beside Sophia on the lounge bed no matter how much he had gushed to her the intriguing plot of the roman novel he was reading earlier.

Instead, he leaves a secretly pleased-to-be-finally-alone Sophia with a sweet kiss on her lips as he fetches his expensive camera equipment in their room, presumably to take pictures of her or their current surroundings. Sophia doesn’t mind one bit, content in flipping page after page of the mystery novel she’s reading while sipping on the green juice that Harry had happily made for her after she requested for some afternoon refreshments. The only time her attention was veered away from her book is when Harry calls for her much later in the day.

“Sunflower, look!” Harry excitedly says, he’s standing below one of the large trees that's rooted just outside the veranda of their villa, four round lemons on his hold.

“What?” Sophia asks, lowering the perch of her sunnies on her nose bridge to have a better look at her fiancé.

“It’s a lemon tree!” Harry answers in the same overly enthusiastic manner, “If I had known there’s a literal lemon tree just outside our villa where we can just get lemons for free, I wouldn’t have bought some in the market yesterday so you also wouldn’t have been so threatened by that kind woman.”

“Oh shut-up!” Sophia rolls her eyes at his obvious teasing, his merry laughter leaving no room for her to be actually mad at him.

“What did you call her again? You had a specific name for her.”

“What else, she’s the Italian flirt.” Sophia says in a ‘duh’ tone, “And by the way, I wasn’t threatened by her, like at all.”

Harry’s laughter should really be annoying, especially when the volume increases and the boy even had the audacity to laugh so hard his thumping his own thighs with his big hands, letting the lemons he was holding fall on the ground. He didn’t even give a fuck when they all rolled to the side of the veranda and fell on the holes of the metal railing.

“Why is that her nickname?” Harry begins to speak, visibly trying his hardest to control the giggles from coming out, “Does that mean if I had met her back at home, you would have called her the London flirt? Sunflower, I’m sorry to say but your nicknaming skills lack some creativity.”

“You’re one to talk,” Sophia guffaws, “you named your cat Dusty because you said she still looked ‘dusty’ after you had bathed her for the first time. You’re just as bad at nicknames like me.”

“Now don’t drag my poor innocent cat into the conversation,” Harry chastises Sophia, beaming brightly at her nonetheless.

“Our cat, Mr. Styles. I think marrying means merging assets which includes house pets.”

Similarly to what Sophia had done earlier, Harry slides down his sunnies in the lower part of his nose bridge, then proceeds to give Sophia a deadpan look with a complete one hand resting on his hip like the complete diva that he can be. “Are you kidding me right now? You’re the one who told me I can’t call you by my surname yet cause we aren’t technically married yet.”

Sophia throws him a cheeky smile in return, shrugging her shoulders in a cool as a cucumber expression, “Baby, I didn’t see that stopping you from calling me your spouse for the rest of the day, did it? And if I remember correctly, you booked this villa we’re staying at with the establishment thinking we’re newly weds. Don’t think I forgot the fucking mess those rose petals were!”

Both Harry and Sophia laugh in remembrance of their first day upon arriving in Sorrento. From any of their past holidays together, Sophia was always the one booking their accommodations while he left Harry to plan their itinerary. Except for this engagement-moon, Sophia got super busy with a campaign in New York for the summer jewelry collection of Tiffany & Co. and had no wits left to find and book them a place. Then steps in Harry, the self-proclaimed Italian-expert-I’m-Basically-Half-Italian-At-This-Point and had willingly taken the task to find them a place. The boy had even sent her New York hotel room a goodie basket filled with Italian treats as some sort of preamble to their trip all the way from London.

Everything thus far in their trip had been normal when they had taken their flight from Heathrow to the Naples airport and then their rented car ride from Naples to Sorrento. Sophia’s wariness only kicked-in upon arriving at the reception area of their place in Sorrento, the lady at the front desk instantly referring to them as Mr. & Mrs. Styles despite their lack of wedding. Although, Sophia had thought at that time that maybe the lady had seen their engagement announcement on their respective social media accounts, with Harry literally captioning his ‘The Styles, 2021’ like all the vows and rings have been exchanged already.

Obviously, the main tell of what Harry had apparently done is the bloody amount of rose petals scattered in their villa upon their arrival, with a bunch of lighted candles completing the romantic atmosphere. Sophia had been shocked at the atrocity of the heart shaped rose petals dispersed on their bed with two swan-folded towels at the side of a bucket of ice and champagne, the assorted box of chocolates was also properly present in the selection.

Just like that same day, Harry’s giving Sophia a sheepish look right now, returning her unconcerned shrug of a shoulder, “The honeymoon package was much cheaper than booking us the presidential villa. I think you should even be thanking me right now, sunflower. Since we are starting to save more for our future mini Harrys and mini Sophias.”

The mention of children has always made Harry beam in unbridled happiness, though the mention of their children, makes him shine like the fucking sun. It’s highly endearing and heart-melting for Sophia to see her bunny so excited about building this life together with her, quite literally in some aspects since they are technically going to build life for them to have children.

“Well thank you for that, lovie.” Sophia relents with a grin, “Now may you please tell me why you called my name in the first place?”

“Oh!” Harry exclaims in recollection, “I saw the lemon tree and plucked out some of them so I can teach you how to juggle.”

How odd yet lovable can this man-child be, Sophia thinks, “And why do you plan to teach me juggling, bunny?”

“Sunflower, I’m going to teach you to be a master juggler like myself so that during our wedding reception, our first dance as the newlyweds won’t be boring.”

“What do you mean it won’t be boring?” Sophia asked, absolutely confused at what he had just said.

Harry looks at her with this look that he can’t understand why she doesn’t get it yet, making his way to the lounge bed with four new lemons on his hands, “I don’t think I’ve seen a couple do their first dance and then surprise their guests with a juggle break, so, us Styles are going to be the first one in wedding history to juggle during our dance.”

Sophia squawks an absolutely surprised laugh, “You want us to juggle during our first dance? Are you crazy, H? I think why you haven’t seen any other newly weds do such acts it’s because the idea’s bloody demented.”

“Heyyy..” Harry pouts in a whine, “Don’t go shutting down my idea without having a go at it.”

Sophia just snorts and welcomes Harry to her side as he plops his slightly sweaty body beside her on the lounge bed. Harry slots himself under Sophia’s arm and props his face on her chest to give her collarbones a few affectionate pecks, Sophia’s hand ruffling the messy angelic curls atop his head.

“I’m down to learn juggling,” Sophia remarks, “but I’m not sure if it’s a wise decision to mix it in our wedding planning, like I don’t want to hit anyone in the eye if I fail to catch one, heck who am I kidding? I’d probably not catch any of them with how bad my eye and hand coordination can get.”

Harry’s giggles vibrate from Sophia’s chest, “Yeah, I think I get your point. I’d rather not have to remember my wedding as the day my own wife had injured my nan with a flying beanbag that I had to go and take her to A&E.”

“Heyyy, now you’re just taking the piss.”

The couple’s afternoon had moved along from there on. Sophia genuinely allowed Harry to teach her some juggling techniques, which only lasted for a good 15 minutes before Harry had reached the point of having enough body pain for Sophia’s every uncaught lemon hitting him. Though Harry can’t really complain if it got him his fiancé’s delicate and gentle hands rubbing aloe vera gel on every sore area on his body.

When the sky had turned an ombré orange with a tint of pink swirls mingled in the perfect picture of the Italian sunset, Sophia has been charmed by her bunny to stay-in for dinner again, although this time, the two of them will cook their dinner with the array of produced they got in the market yesterday.

In all honesty, Sophia does not like to cook. She won’t proclaim that she’s an absolute shit cook when she’s still able to make a mean cheese toastie and Harry and her favorite soft-centered chocolate chip cookies. Her always on the go lifestyle has also contributed to her lack of time to explore cooking, and if she does have some free time, she’d rather make sure whatever she’s eating would be edible. Harry on the other hand, is kind of on the same boat as she is when it comes to the field of cooking, it’s just that her bunny thinks he has an innate inner culinary genius within himself that he’s yet to properly unleash. So between the two of them, Harry’s definitely the one who subjects himself to overly seasoned or burnt dishes due to his inspiring cooking attempts. Tonight however, would be the first time they will attempt to cook something from scratch together.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Sophia muses as she watches Harry arrange their ingredients in the kitchen countertop.

Harry dismisses her sentiments with a scoff, “What do you mean it’s not a good idea? This is a proper domestic activity that we can use as a practice ground from when we’re married and sharing a house and everything that’s entailed in being spouses.”

“Bunny, we’ve been sharing the same house after four months of knowing each other and I didn’t see you making me any pasta from scratch. I think we’re way past domestic cooking practice, spouses or not. Let’s just accept that we’re two idiots in the kitchen.”

Harry gives her a ‘tsk’ sound, seemingly unaffected by her negative outlook as he proceeds to place an apron on her bikini-covered body, going behind her back to tie the knot. Harry then wraps his arms around her waist with his bare chest flushed against her back, “Baby, will you please stop being so negative and humor me for tonight? We can end up making the most abominable pasta dish and I’d still have the time of my life creating it with you. So don’t worry your pretty little head into anything.”

Sophia sighs in resignation, knowing Harry’s absolutely correct that knowing them, whatever they end up doing, as long as they're together doing the activity, everything will still be fine and dandy. “Well who’s going to have to eat raw pasta noodles with the awfully seasoned marinara sauce?”

“You, obviously.” Harry pinches her bare tummy making Sophia squeak in surprise, “Look how skinny your model body is in that bikini. I say you need more food in you.”

Sophia backs away from Harry’s hug, crossing her arms on her lemon printed apron as she watches Harry put on his matching one, “I mean, we still have that tremendous amount of bread from your little stint earlier so maybe it won’t be that bad if I just stuff my face with more gluten to mask the awful taste.”

“Will you look at that!” Harry claps his soapy hands in glee as he’s so keen on getting the cooking started that he’s began washing his hands, “My sunflower being more positive of the situation already, keep it up buttercup!” and he lands a swat on the bare cheek of Sophia’s bum while it was the latter’s turn to innocently wash her hands after him.

“Bunny! Keep your hands to yourself, mister.”

“Or else we might not get any cooking cause you’d rather I keep the spanking in our bedroom?” Harry wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, one hand leaning on the kitchen counter highlighting his bulging biceps.

“No,” Sophia passes by him to get his Ipad where the recipe of their dish is located, “it’s or else I’d make you use your hands to knead the pasta dough all by yourself.”

“Psh,” Harry flicks his right hand like that’s no big deal, “I’d probably do a better job at it by just doing it all myself.”

“Now’s not the time to get too cocky,” Sophia amusedly inquires, reading the pasta dough recipe on the screen with Harry’s chin perched on top of her shoulder to read along, “this seems quite easy, but there’s surely a catch here somewhere.”

“Don’t get all bloody detective-like on a pasta dough recipe, sunflower. This isn’t a mystery case trying to be solved like the books you love to read.” Harry says, while Sophia laughs along with Harry’s accurate observation.

The two go on with actual cooking instead of just discussing and bickering like the old married couples they’re truly destined to be. Harry places the flour, eggs, olive oil, and salt in front of the two of them, beginning to pour the flour on the kitchen surface to create their flour wall.

After he’s done that, Sophia leaves him for a second to get a bowl where they can crack and beat their eggs on. When she returns, it’s to the scene of Harry attempting to crack an egg to place it directly on the hollow center of their flour wall.

“What are you doing?!” Sophia asks horrified, quickly crossing the distance between them, halting Harry from his action in surprise, “I just got the bowl for our eggs, why are you putting it directly on the flour?”

Harry frowns at her in return, “Because that’s how it’s supposed to be?”

“But I didn’t see that specific instruction on the website we’re reading the recipe at.”

“Well that’s what I’ve seen Gordon Ramsay do in that one Master Chef episode we watched,”

Sophia narrows her eyes at Harry, “So you’d rather trust Gordon Ramsay than the woman you’re about to marry?”

“Obviously.” Harry answers straight away making Sophia laugh at his honesty, “You might be the top paid supermodel around the world, but you ain’t the culinary god that Chef Ramsay is. I still love you though and will continue to marry you.”

“Nice save,” Sophia giggles, pecking Harry’s pouting lips waiting for a kiss. “I guess you’re right; I’d rather we blame Gordon Ramsay when this ends up going to shit than myself.”

“That’s the spirit!” Harry chuckles, raising his hand for a high-five which Sophia gladly returns. “Now I’d crack the eggs, add the olive oil plus salt, and then I’ll give you the honors to knead it first?”

Sophia agrees for Harry to go ahead, watching his slow and cautious movement of performing his task. It’s probably not Harry and Sophia’s finest idea to cook their dinner together in just their swimwear because they’re just in step one and Sophia’s already getting transfixed on Harry’s tattoos like it’s the first time she’s seeing it again. Harry’s naked body is enough distraction when she’s doing the thing she knows the most, which is modeling. Getting distracted by Harry’s bareness while doing something she hardly knows any shit about, is probably beyond dangerous than she thinks. Just imagining her bunny looking this hot, bare chested with nothing but his boxers and an apron on while cooking breakfast in their London home for her and by then pregnant belly, she’s unsure if she can go on with her pregnancy if her ovaries already want to explode in that divine moment.

“Done,” Harry says, removing Sophia away from her rather intense imagination, “you should knead it already, sunflower. Before the eggs and oil go everywhere.”

Sophia sees the fragile looking pile of the flour and the liquid of the egg and the oil nestled in its little crater, “Don’t you think we should whisk it first?”

“Yeah, I think that’s the right step to do first,” Harry agrees thoughtfully, handing Sophia the metal whisk for her to use.

Sophia, thankfully knows how to whisk with all the cookie baking she does sometimes without any electronic mixer. Her confidence level was definitely high when she started whisking the eggs and oil together, thinking that it’s only step two and nothing can really go wrong yet. Except it does. Just a few whisks in, their flour wall seems to not be so sturdy and it can’t absorb all the liquids making the slippery substance start to flow on the kitchen countertop instead of staying in the flour like it’s supposed to. Harry and Sophia look at each other in panic.

“What do I do?!” Sophia exclaims in a frenzy upon more liquid escaping their flour wall.

“Start kneading it already so the liquid ingredients get incorporated with the flour!” Harry replies in the same panicked nature as he watches the slight horror unfold.

“Alright, alright!” Sophia acknowledges hurriedly, ready to get the business done with her hands except that she catches a glimpse of her shining engagement ring and she just can’t knead a wet and slippery pasta dough with that majestic thing getting contaminated.

“Lovie, can you please take off my ring?” Sophia requests holding out her left hand to a confused and frowning Harry.”

“Why would I do that?!” He asks in disbelief, “You never take off your ring wherever you go. Heck, you’ve never taken it off since I placed it there!”

“Bunny!” Sophia groans thinking that it’s really not the time for his drama, “I don’t have the time to listen to your dramatic monologue, I need this ring off so it doesn't get doughy-wet and oily. Will you please just remove it before we have no pasta dough left to knead?”

“But,” Harry looks conflicted at her urgent request, “But that ring’s super special! That’s like the embodiment of my undying love for you and how that will never leave, and then you’re just going to want me to take it off of you? Sunflower, that’s like sacrilegious in my books becau-”

“HARRY! JUST TAKE THE BLOODY RING OFF FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

The yelling seems to do the trick, Harry following her order just like the obedient husband that he aspires to be. Though some petulant looks were still thrown Sophia’s way as both of them started to knead the thankfully, the now tangible pasta dough. Harry’s pouting definitely diminished by the time they were able to successfully portion the pasta dough equally, letting it rest for thirty minutes as they now shift their attention to the Italian marinara sauce.

“Do you think we’re pros now?” Harry asks Sophia as they take turns washing their messy hands, “Like should we start calling our managers to book us some guestings for cooking reality tv shows so we can show those arrogant chefs that gorgeous models like us can cook too.”

Sophia chuckles in reply, gladly letting Harry dry her hands with the same dish towel he used to dry his, “It seems to me you’re just as arrogant as them if you think making pasta dough without even turning it to pasta yet makes us an instant pro at the kitchen.”

“Well maybe it is,” Harry supposes, “but I’m pretty sure I’d make a more exceptional marinara sauce than those guys.”

Sophia provides a non-verbal response in the form of a hum. Harry might not have made her any pasta from scratch in the past, but he has helped his mother countless times in making this Italian marinara recipe that they’re going to be using tonight every time Anne has invited them over at her place to feed them with homely and hearty meals that they’re missing in their own flat. Though Harry has yet to make it all by himself, Sophia knows it’s still worth something that he already took part in the making of it, which raises the chances of it being edible which really, is the only thing they’re hoping for.

Because Harry has usually done the prepping of the ingredients before, he delegates that task to Sophia as he takes the reins of cooking it on the stove. Chopping a huge amount of tomatoes is a task Sophia would rather have than anything relating to a heat source which has the tendency for her to burn something. With that being said, let’s not forget her awful hand and eye coordination at the earlier juggling escapade, a knife replacing the position of a lemon should certainly frighten her and Harry.

“Chop slowly,” Harry instructs her for the nth time, his regular slow deep drawl that usually calms Sophia down is starting to irk her right now.

“Yes, I know, bunny. You’ve just told me a million times in the past ten seconds.” Sophia replies, right hand raised with her palm upwards waiting for Harry to hand her the knife cause she’s apparently some child who can’t be trusted with sharp objects.

“I’m just making sure, baby. Don’t want you getting any scratches or god forbid, cuts on your fingers. That just won’t do.”

“I know, and I love you for caring so much about me, now can you please hand me over the knife?”

Harry still has a hesitant look on his face, “You promise you’re going to call for my help if there’s anything you don’t know how to chop?”

Sophia nods her head, smiling sincerely at her fiancé who’s overbearing protectiveness that as much as she would like to get irritated with, she can’t with how adorable he is. “I promise, bunny. I’m going to drop the knife on the chopping board and ask for your help when I need to.”

That seems to appease Harry’s worries, albeit only slightly, knowing him and his instinctive papa bear tendencies are always going to be there. So he hands the knife carefully to Sophia’s waiting hand before making the short walk to the stovetop.

“Oh, by the way,” Sophia chirps as she starts to make an assembly line of the tomatoes, “I also promise to take great care that none of my fingers are going to make it at our marinara pasta.”

“SUNFLOWER!” Harry shrieks in horror as he wipes his entire body to her direction after facing her backwards tending to the stovetop, “Don’t joke about those things, my love!”

Sophia giggles like the naughty minx that she is amidst the genuine frown on Harry’s face. When the latter seems to second guess his earlier granting of knife access to Sophia, he makes a show of walking back to her to supposedly take it from her. So Sophia, out of pure panic that Harry would take away this chance of her to sharpen her knife skills, raises the knife and points it to a nearing Harry in warning.

“SUNFLOWER!” Harry screams again in terror, arms instinctively raising up in surrender like the sort of thing one does whenever a deadly weapon is thrusted to them in caution. “Please slowly put the knife back down on the counter top.”

Harry’s reaction is what prompts Sophia to realize what she’s done and how possibly dangerous this situation can be. She squeaks in surprise and drops the knife to the floor, the loud clattering sound makes both Harry and Sophia jump in surprise.

“Fuck!” Harry curses, right hand coming to rest on his probably rapidly beating heart if he’s in the same situation as Sophia is (which he should be the one feeling like that since he’s the one that got pointed the knife). “I said slowly, sunflower.”

“Sorry,” Sophia responds apologetically, “Can’t expect me to react otherwise after I’ve realized what I was doing.”

“What? That you just got your fiancé at knifepoint?”

“Bunny,” Sophia whines in embarrassment at Harry’s attempt to exploit her mistake, “I said I’m sorry, please don’t start teasing me right now.”

Harry chuckles as he bends down to pick the discarded knife on the floor, “I think that just serves you right for teasing me first, sunflower. In fact, I think it’s the wise decision to never leave you unattended with extremely sharp objects that can potentially turn an aspiring romantic story of fiancés having their engagement-moon in the Amalfi Coast before they officially tie the knot, turn into a murder mystery of the engaged woman accidentally killing her fiancé while they’re just attempting to make their bloody dinner from scratch.”

Sophia grins in interest, “Wouldn’t that story be a New York’s Time Best Selling novel though?”

Harry’s teasing glint is replaced with a blank face of disbelief, and it’s enough for Sophia to shut her own smile, pouting her lips instead with her chin turned downwards like a scolded child. She seconds the motion and does not even put up a fight when Harry had barely let her chop anything, content in lining the tomatoes Harry needs to chop and properly arranging those he had chopped in a separate bowl.

Just like their earlier pasta dough making, the only mishap they’ve faced is in the first steps of making the marinara sauce, aka: ‘When my fiancé had me at knifepoint in Italy’ is what Harry titles it now and how he said he’d call it when their family and friends ask for stories on how their holiday in the Amalfi Coast went. So overall, besides Sophia's mistake and Harry’s relentless teasing, they finished making the marinara sauce and it is now left in the stovetop to reduce for another hour.

Harry and Sophia return their focus back on their resting portioned pasta doughs, Harry taking it upon himself to assemble the specific parts that they would use in the pasta maker that their villa conveniently stores. The couple had agreed to turn their pasta dough into pappardelle because their logic is the wider their pasta would be, the faster they’ll finish their doughs which also equates to the quicker they’d be away from the face of mistakes.

Sophia makes sure to flour sufficiently the pasta maker, because based from the cookie shows Harry and her indulge in, contestants fuck up when they just sprinkle a little bit of flour on their pasta machine making their pasta dough stick to its metal surface. Harry and Sophia don’t want to fuck up this late in their first cooking tryst, and being able to detect that possible door of mistake before stupidly doing so, Sophia thinks Harry and her are in the right path to becoming kitchen pros as they share a kiss of victory at being able to successfully produce their first strand of pappardelle.

The laughter the two of them share as each pasta strand they finish making is placed on Harry’s outstretched arms after realizing they have no pasta rack, is beyond doubt one of the best moments Sophia’s had in their entire stay thus far in this trip. Harry’s theatrics of dancing around their kitchen using the dangling strands of pasta on his arms and shoulders as some sort of expensive fringe robe. Now Sophia can really see the appeal of why Harry is such a successful model; her bunny can wear and sell anything, even bloody pasta!

“Do you want a matching pasta headband for that fancy pappardelle robe you have on?” Sophia jokes, holding the last few pieces of pasta.

“No thanks,” Harry kindly declines, “I’m already going to have to wash my flour-slicked body more attentively, I don't want my hair being subjected to the same treatment.”

“Yeah, don’t want your angel curls to be mistreated, huh?” Sophia agrees, affectionately reaching on tiptoes to gently tousle his luscious curls.

Harry giggles, “This is the real reason why I didn’t have to wine and dine you the first we met, you fell for the cherubic curls instantly.”

“Good thing you're compensating now by wining and dining me in the romantic and picturesque Amalfi through your own handmade meal. Too bad you didn’t press grapes on the basin with your feet to wine me with your own wine.”

Harry laughs as the two of them begin to remove the pasta strands all-over his body, “Ohh, I’m beginning to think that’s your way of saying that you want a repeat of tonight. Sunflower, are we currently experiencing your culinary awakening? This is monumental!”

Maybe it’s the nature of their trip, an engagement-moon that celebrates their relationship which for Sophia holds much more weight than their coming wedding. Sophia and Harry don’t need a piece of paper to dictate and justify their love for one another, being with each other both mentally and physically, and becoming each other's pillar of strength through troubled and delighted times is already enough. The wedding is more of a gift for their family and friends, to grant them the ability to celebrate their relationship with them.

It’s that thought that resonates within Sophia as Harry and her indulge the surprisingly delicious marinara pappardelle dish of their creation with the side of Harry’s warmed bread leftovers, and a glass of red wine that will soon be refilled for a second helping.

Harry’s correct, this moment is definitely monumental. Maybe not in the same sense as he directly means it, but their night together and every single precious moment they’ve spent on this trip has just made Sophia love and treasure the special relationship that Harry and her have even more. Sophia knows wholeheartedly now, that she’s ready to be married to him, to change her surname to Styles, to merge all their belongings together including their beloved personal pets.

In Sophia’s books, Harry and her are pretty much soul-bonded to begin with.

Bunny and the Pearl Choker

Nothing is going to stand against Harry’s way. The 20th of October would be perfect, must be perfect.

That’s Harry's current state of mind just as the new month rolled-in, the chilly autumn air already starting its full-pledged invasion of his sweet little flat.

‘Blankets, would she like blankets?’ he thinks, as he closes the stubborn window in his living area and fetches the new cream colored fluffy blanket from the basket filled with an assortment of other blankets in different sizes, colors, and textures, keen to not freeze his bones off while trying to be the best boyfriend there is on this planet.

‘No, don’t think so.’ Harry converses with his thoughts, taking a seat on his couch, ‘I always get new blankets for her every time we go out, that’s not special enough. Have to think better than that, Harry. Yup, that’s the right path to follow right now.’

See, Harry has the perfect idea on how he’s going to make a superb use of his free Friday afternoon when one of his uni professors called in sick late last night.

Harry’s plan is to spend the rest of his afternoon on his soft baby blue couch (his beautiful girlfriend always had the same shade painted on her nails prompting him to buy the couch in that color), freshly made latte with a few pumps of the pumpkin spice syrup (that his lovely girlfriend had bought him) resting on the coffee table for his convenience, the new cream colored fluffy blanket already wrapped around his bottom half (always a necessity to get new blankets because he’s cuddly girlfriend gets easily cold), and with his laptop perched on his lap ready to research away (and yes, the laptop also has a connection with his thoughtful girlfriend who had given him stickers of different kinds of bunnies doing different things to decorate it.)

Said beautiful, lovely, cuddly, and thoughtful girlfriend is going to celebrate her 21st birthday on the 20th of October; Harry’s perfect plan is to organize a perfect birthday for her with no other things needed to be said or thought over. He’ll take it upon himself to do it, as an obligation of a wonderful boyfriend who only wants the best for his girl on her special day.

Dedicating some time to planning is only the responsible way to go about planning anything that you want to garner immaculate results for, especially when Harry has no idea on what his girlfriend wants for her birthday.

Don’t get him wrong, he knows Sophia inside and out like the back of his hand, though he also knows how timid she is about voicing her wants especially when it's something material like a birthday present or something to do with celebrating her which she thinks are unnecessary actions cause she’s kind and modest like that.

Harry has done his part and obviously asked her in person, they value communication in their relationship so it was only wise for him to come forth and ask verbally of what she wants to do and have for her 21st before he starts scheming behind her back and it ending up to be a failure because it wasn’t what the birthday girl had wanted.

So just last week, while they were both cuddled together in the very same couch Harry is sitting on right now, he asked Sophia who was lying comfortably on top of him, face squished on his chest wrapping a chocolate brown blanket tighter around their bodies if she had any plans for her birthday.

The girl had stopped breathing in his comforting scent and nuzzling her face to his jumper, and looked at him, eyes lighting-up with a bit of surprise like she didn’t expect the question at all.

Instead of the usual wish of a 21st rager for a birthday, Sophia scrunches her nose adorably, thinking for a moment with her cute little bottom lip jutting out a bit just like every time they study together causing a distracted Harry every now and then.

“Hmmm.. I don’t know bunny. Maybe we can just bake something nice and have a movie marathon here? I’d really like it if we just watched Civil War again, haven’t seen Chris Evans in that film for awhile.”

And of course, her answer would be a sweet little movie night with a little baking at the side, a typical occurrence in their relationship as both utterly love a good, cozy chilled-in night. But that’s the thing, Harry thought, it was such a regular thing that they do all the time and her birthday should be something more special than that. Plus, he doesn’t want to share her attention with Chris bloody Evans on her birthday! That won’t do, it happens all the time already and Harry would especially want to be the one that provides a smashing time for her on her special day, not some super human in blue spandex with killer biceps (that, Harry can probably agree Chris Evans has it in the bag).

So Harry voiced out his thoughts, even adding in the fact that she also should think about what she wants as a gift and as expected, the pout on her pretty pink lips even got bigger, wide blue eyes looking owlishly at him.

“Don’t want anything out of the ordinary. Bunny, you’re already a good time to spend my birthday with, and an amazing gift too for being in my life.”

Now that was sweet, and Harry doesn’t have the heart to say otherwise when she comes nuzzling back to his chest almost purring in content like a cat.

But Harry won’t also let it slide that easily, knows deep down that no matter what Sophia says, his Sunflower would appreciate whatever effort he will bring to the table might it be baking and a movie marathon, or an all-planned birthday celebration outside the confines of their home.

That’s why here he is, immersing himself in full-concentration mode as he turns the power of his laptop on, sipping cautiously at the sweet and aromatic hot beverage on his favorite sunflower embossed mug.

Harry opens a new tab on Google, trying to rack his brain for any clue or inkling to what his girlfriend might want after consulting their friends if something might have slipped in their conversations with her.

Glenne, her best friend who she’s with most of the time that her and Harry are not attached to the hip, had mentioned nothing saying that conversations about Sophia’s 21st never even came-up in any of their conversations. That alone, has Harry slightly panicked already as he knows that the chances that any of their other friends have in knowing what Sophia might want, was possibly in the lower spectrum.

His assumptions we’re indeed confirmed upon asking Sarah, Mitch, and Jeff, all three leaving him with the same empty-handed results. All of their friends assured him though that Sophia’s a really sweet and simple girl that whatever Harry plans for her she would surely appreciate more than an average person.

The thing is, Harry knows that’s absolutely true. His Sunflower is the sweetest, most gentle and kind soul he has ever met, it does kind of feel silly that he’s stressing himself out over here trying to plan such an intricate thing for her birthday when he knows Sophia’s being genuine with just wanting a simple night-in with just the two of them together.

Harry shakes his head, determination winning over the better part of him as his fingers start typing away for possible 21st birthday celebration recommendations. He started with looking at blog posts and websites that show a list of possible activities and gifts to do, but then proceeded to look at certain activities when the broad selection was just overwhelming him.

After about 45 minutes of looking here and there on the internet, Harry’s luck still seemed to not have gotten any better and allowed himself a five minute break to make another cup of latte. While doing so, he looks at his discarded phone checking for any missed messages, his worries and slight tiredness from his research abruptly washes away just upon seeing the gorgeous smiling face of his girlfriend on his lockscreen from their recent trip to the South of France last summer. His Sunflower really basks in the glory of the summer season and its endless sunshine grandeur.

Suddenly, something clicks in him. Summer. Sophia loves summer more than any season and has always loved significantly all their activities during those times of the year. His mind instantly reels him back to every single summer picnic they shared, specifically noting her speechless awed expression at their last picnic in the South of France where Harry took her to the most gorgeous open field with luscious flowers sprinkled around, the lavenders a definite favorite with Sophia not failing to mention that detail to every person who asked them about their trip when they came back to uni after their holiday.

Clapping in excitement, Harry dopily makes his way back to the couch, cursing loudly when he sips on his new cup of pumpkin spice latte forgetting that it was still scorching hot.

That doesn’t deter him, already knowing how to use it to his advantage when Sophia comes to his place for dinner later and he can act all wounded-puppy-like and get her to kiss him better. For now, he must think of the best way to get about preparing a summer picnic for his lovely girlfriend in the bloody autumn weather.

Harry feels his luck starting to look better, typing the single letter ‘p’ on his browser suggests him to a Pinterest link that apparently has been visited on his laptop. Curiously, he opens the link knowing within himself that he has never visited this website, and oh my god did he hit the bloody jackpot without even exerting any effort!

The link opens to a Pinterest board filled with picnic ideas and aesthetic, upon looking further Harry realizes that Sophia must have, actually definitely, used his laptop to log-in her Pinterest account and apparently create a dedicated board for anything picnic related. It’s never been an issue for them to use each other's devices and log-in their accounts to it, knowing that neither of them has anything to hide nor any reason to snoop around in the first place. This however, is the only time Harry might be inclined to do so, for pure and honest intentions though!

Knowing deep down inside that he’s about to do nothing wrong at all, Harry decides to continue and starts taking notes dutifully, already finalizing ideas in his mind on the tangible things he has to prepare and get, already deciding on the overall theme and route he wants this picnic to be.

The next 30 minutes passes-by and Harry can confidently say that he has everything sorted plan-wise on this sweet and humble picnic for his girl, already sorted his schedule too on when to accomplish specific tasks.

He checks the time on his wall clock, realizing that he only has about an hour left before Sophia’s last class of the day ends, and he plans to pick her up and treat her to dinner in one of their favorite cafes just around town knowing that she’s most probably craving their strawberry smoothie cause he definitely is salivating thinking about the banana one.

With that in mind, Harry proceeds to look at the other boards on Sophia’s Pinterest, thinking might as well because it seems like his girlfriend had found a quiet solace on this app to project her wants and plans.

Again, Harry is astounded how the answers to his burning question of what to get her as a gift easily comes to his possession with just a simple scroll and click.

A pearl necklace, specifically a mini Vivienne Westwood Bas Relief Choker, is apparently the only material thing that his Sunflower wants and is too shy to tell him.

Well, looks like Harry has got some pearls to buy and woo his girlfriend with.

***

Maybe Harry has overestimated these divine blessings that have easily come to his hand, because here he is, waiting for the third time for this bloody pearl choker to get back in-stock on the website.

Apparently, everyone wanted to get the pearl chokers just at the same time that Harry needed it, as if he wasn’t the only one in London planning to surprise their girlfriend for their big 21. Relentlessly, Harry refreshes the website again and again while waiting for his French literature professor to enter the room, not noticing his two best mates sliding in on either seats beside him.

Jeff whistles, catching Harry’s attention; he’s looking at the screen of Harry’s laptop as if he knew the hardship of just wanting to get the bloody gift for your girlfriend but you can’t cause the universe was just feeling to torment him and make him wait.

“I hate to break it to you, H,” Jeff says, curving an arm around his shoulder, “There’s no bloody chance that you can get Soph that choker unless you call in to reserve it from your local store and then pick it up at the date they advise you with.”

Harry frowns, “How do I know that what you’re saying is credible?”

Jeff feigns a gasp, “Since when did you start questioning the legitimacy of my suggestions?”

Harry just raises an eyebrow in return, “Haven’t yet, but there’s always a first for everything.”

Mitch begins to laugh at Jeff’s shocked and affronted expression upon realizing that Harry wasn’t joking around in the first place with his question.

“Mate, this is fucking serious business here,” Mitch says to Jeff, raising his hand towards Harry’s direction, “We’re talking about a birthday gift for H’s little precious Sunflower, so we must understand the hostility here.”

Harry narrows his eyes at Mitch this time, “I don’t know if you just mocked my girlfriend or what, but I’m not having any of it, she really is special and precious to me more than you two could ever be.”

“Ouch!” the two boys say in unison before laughing loudly at Harry’s unrelenting cross expression.

“I would really appreciate it if the two of you stop laughing at my expense and actually offer some sensible help.”

The two boys clear their throat to settle their laughing fit before turning to Harry in a more serious manner, sensing that their boy is genuinely stressing about this.

“Haz,” Jeff says, “Trust me, my advice from earlier was not a joke. I had the same dilemma for Glenne’s Christmas gift last year from a different designer shop, and that was the exact same advice one of her friends had given me who frequents shopping on-demand designer items.”

Harry considers what Jeff said, thumb and index finger pinching on his bottom lip while turning his gaze to Mitch as if waiting for his input.

Mitch chuckles and raises his hands in defense, “Don’t come looking at me like I have the same wise words cause I haven’t gotten Sarah any of those kinds of gifts, you rich motherfuckers.”

That bursts out an unexpected laugh from Jeff and Harry who know that they are a bit more well-off than their other friends, but have never boasted it in-front of them or something. It’s just surprisingly funny that Mitch brought it up, who is most probably the less caring person about that aspect in their life; he’s a really good lad.

“But, I do know some other wise words which is that you won’t really lose anything if you tried Jeff’s advice here, and again, Soph would love whatever you give or don’t give her.”

Harry thinks that’s sound words, and decides to follow-through later that evening while lounging comfortably on Sophia’s pink satin sheets of her bed, the latter enjoying a much well-deserved relaxing evening shower on her ensuite.

Harry made sure that Sophia couldn't hear him making the call as the noise of the shower jets and the blow dryer later on would definitely help mask his voice from her earshot.

He feels heaven slowly opening up it’s gates again for him as the lady over the phone from Vivienne Westwood confirming that the pearl choker is in-stock and they can hold in on reserve for him for a maximum of four days and he needs to pick it up on their London branch between those days or else it will be given to another customer.

Harry easily agrees and a gleeful smile must have been present on his face because it’s the first thing his girlfriend notices upon appearing back in her bedroom, one of his old band tees adorning her upper body with pastel yellow lace panties the only thing covering her modesty.

“What’s that smile for, bunny? Something you wanna share to the room?” she asks, picking up her hairbrush from her princess-style vanity.

Harry giggles, making grabby hands for Sophia, carefully getting the hairbrush from her hand so he can do it himself. He loves brushing her long blonde princess looking hair, Sophia happily letting him as she positions herself comfortably in-between his parted legs.

“Can I not be happy to be in your company? I missed you so much, my Sunflower. Haven’t gotten the chance to have you all to myself.” Harry nuzzles his nose to her ear, making the girl giggle.

“Tickles, bunny!” Sophia says, trying to get away. Harry lets her go easily, but without a deep kiss on her ear as he continues to gently brush her long strands.

“But seriously though, I know you’re not telling me something so speak-up before I deny you my kissies tonight.”

Harry laughs, “Whoah, what’s gotten you so harsh tonight, lovie? Don’t know if I should take my chances, really.”

“Better not,” Sophia replies, reaching behind her to pinch his love handles as a joking warning.

“Heyyy..” Harry whines, “No need to get the claws out. I was just talking to the shop that I’m getting mom’s gift for the opening of the new branch of her florist shop here in London.”

“Ohhh!” Sophia claps her hands excitedly, such a cutie little bean, Harry thinks. “What did you get her?”

“Not gonna tell.”

Now it was Sophia’s turn to whine, “Heyyy no fair, have to tell me.”

“Says who?” Harry giggles, slowly fixing her hair in a soft plait for bed, “Don’t think there was a rulebook for this kind of thing in relationships.”

“Don’t need any of that crap,” without looking at her face, Harry knows Sophia’s pouting while saying that, “You’re going to tell me cause you love me so much.”

Harry laughs, rearranging the two of them after finishing her plait with Sophia now straddling his lap.

“Bunny, come on, tell me, please?”

Harry should have thought better when he decided to have her on his lap like this. Because with her pouting pink lips, perfectly cut wispy bangs falling just above her brow bone, and with her rounded crystal clear blue eyes looking up at him from under her long lashes, it’s a perfectly mixed concoction for Harry to bare his whole heart and soul to her waiting hands.

But that won’t do, Harry’s willpower must be stronger because his Sunflower deserves this birthday surprise and not some half-assed confession because he can’t resist her beautiful charm (she still is very much gorgeous, don’t get him wrong.)

So instead, Harry goes the joking route, “I do love you a whole lot, and I have no problem sharing matters with you, Sunflower. But, I must say that I think you’ve been a little cheeky bugger recently and talking to my mom behind my back does not sit lightly with me.”

Sophia’s eyes widen further, now more shocked than anything before she smirks, “Where did you ever get that information from, baby?”

Harry snorts, “Certainly not from you after I’ve gotten a text from my dear mother reprimanding me like a child because I apparently got so hungover during an exam day, and somebody saw it fitting to hand my arse to my mother to beat on!”

Sophia laughs really loudly, hitting Harry’s chest in reaction, “BUNNY! You can’t say the word arse and then refer it to Anne! You’re bloody crazy!”

Harry laughs along, switching their positions now again with Sophia under his body lying down now on her pink sheets, skin somehow glistening as the moonlight’s glow seeps through her window.

“Lovie, you’re the crazy one for telling me off to her in the first place. I feel kind of betrayed, really.”

“Awww..” Sophia coos at her boyfriend’s pouting face, “I didn’t mean anything bad about it, bunny it honestly just slipped out during our conversation and I didn’t even think she cared that much. It was mostly a funny story for me to share.”

“Why? Cause I almost puked at my professor’s desk after I passed my bullshit answers to his exam?”

“Yup, and the fact that Mitch said you also almost tripped while doing so.”

“You’re evil.” and Harry begins a tickle fight like no other.

***

If Harry thought his obstacles for this birthday present were over, then he’s probably shitting himself right now with how wrong and unprepared he was for this coming week.

It’s the week before Sophia’s actual birthday, Harry having contacted and ordered all the flowers, picnic set up and overall needed materials for that, and even the food. Everything had gone smoothly with that entire process, and after his almost slip-up of telling the birthday girl her birthday present, he thinks it’s all sunshines and rainbows from here on out.

Though that idea quickly flushes down the drain when the birthday girl herself was the first obstacle Harry has to overcome to get this pearl choker.

Harry was ready to leave her place, after having had another sleepover the previous night. Already dressed comfortably for the chilly weather, he was calling for Sophia to say his goodbyes in the guise of needing to leave for errands.

Instead of being greeted by Sophia in her usual loungewear of a lace boyshorts panties and a silk camisole top, Sophia was dressed in a similar comfortable fashion like him ready to combat the autumn London weather.

“Are we ready to go?” she asks brightly, slinging her favorite white Chanel purse across her body.

“We? Did we have plans that I forgot or something?” Harry asks, confused as to what’s happening.

“That’s a good question. We, my bunny, are going to get our manis and pedis done! I was able to book us an appointment at our favorite nail salon at the last minute, but thank god they had two free slots this afternoon.”

When Harry just stares at her, not reciprocating her excitement, he sees the moment Sophia’s face starts to fall, eyes lowering to the ground and white ankle booties turning inwards as a nervous gesture.

“Do you not want to go with me?” she asks quietly, ultimately breaking Harry’s heart at her sad tone.

“No,” Harry closes the gap between them and pulls her towards his chest in a tight hug, “No, Sunflower; obviously I would love to get our nails done. It’s just that I was caught off-guard is all.”

He presses numerous kisses on the top of her head, Sophia freezing on his hold.

“Oh no, did you need to do something important? Crap, I should have told you beforehand! I’m so sorry, Harry.”

That just won’t do, Harry thinks, how can he honestly say to her pouting dejected face that she basically ruined his plans for the day to get her birthday gift? He can’t do that to her, especially now that he’s tilting her chin up gently to meet his face and sees that her eyes have turned glassy, a tell-tale sign that she’s about to cry.

“Oh, Sunflower. No tears, please my love. I promise you didn’t ruin anything important. I feel loved and honored that you decided to surprise us with a good relaxing nail day. Thank you, my Sunflower, love you so much.”

Sophia’s lips begin to tremble despite Harry’s reassurance, a little tear falling. “Promise? Didn’t ruin your day?”

“Yes, my love. I promise.” Harry solemnly reassures again, kissing her lips softly and parting with an affectionate rub of his nose against hers.

“Okay, I love you too, bunny. So much.”

And Harry thinks that’s compensation enough for his misfortune for the day. Plus, it also doesn’t hurt that his girl requested to get the same polish that he’s getting, not one to usually do that but has reassured him that she wants to because she wants to show her how much she values Harry sharing his time of the day with her. To be honest, Sophia can have all his time if it means that she’d dote on him for their entire time out like what she did for the remaining of the day; never once leaving his side and hand always clasped with his as if she’d lose him with a bat of an eye.

***

The second day Harry tries his chances on getting the pearl choker, it wasn’t his ladylove to be blamed for the utter disaster that occurred next, it’s his dumbasses friends that are to be held responsible for whatever Harry might be inclined to do once he’s reached their destination.

This time, Harry was actually already in his car when the misfortune began. He gets a quick phone call while driving (thankfully he connected his phone to the system of his car, or his Sunflower would sure have killed him upon knowledge that he’s using his phone while driving) from his girlfriend herself, something about to drive safely to her place and that she’s ready to outshine his outfit for their night out.

First of all, why is he supposed to go to her place? Second, what outfit and night out? Harry takes a quick glance at his soft grey joggers, plain white jumper with a blue plaid jacket outfit, definitely nowhere near party ready.

On a red light, he picks up his phone to check his messages just to see if he missed something today. Just one tap of his messaging app, Harry sees their group chat and without further context, his quick scan of the party poppers emojis and the countless alcohol emojis is enough to tell Harry that he’s two best buds definitely planned a night out.

“Fuck!” Harry curses out loud, quickly dialing Jeff’s contact as the light turns green.

The moment Jeff picks up, Harry’s straight-on throwing profanities at him.

“Bloody fuck, Jeff! What were you thinking suggesting a night out on this specific night?! Jesus fucking christ mate, are you really shitting me right now?!”

Jeff whistles, “Well good afternoon to you too, H. Whatever brought this chirpy attitude? I’m very delighted really.”

Harry groans, “Fuck mate, just answer the fucking question so I know what to do! What’s this night out thing I’m seeing in the group chat?”

Jeff answers in an unsure tone, “Uhm, yeah, Mitch and I planned a last minute night out for the gang because as you already know, we need a congratulatory drink for surviving the big requirements we finished this week. I know you, specifically, want to celebrate that mock business proposal you just had for your Economics class, which you aced by the way, H. Big congrats on that one man!”

As if Harry wants to be praised right now, that’s the farthest thing he wants unless it’s being praised for being the best boyfriend because he finally secured that bloody birthday gift for his Sunflower. So, no thanks, not accepting any praises until he’s got that damn fucking pearl choker with him.

“I fucking knew you two would be the culprits for this, and yes, I would damn like a celebration for nailing that Econ project but under the confines of my own home later tonight without you two idiots ruining my fucking plans!”

Harry’s outburst definitely concerns Jeff now, unsure where it was all coming from. When the latter asks him to calm down, Harry snaps out of whatever red angry haze he was having, and thinks that it’s not safe for him to be driving under this state of anger and stress, choosing to stop at the nearest parking lot of an establishment he was driving by.

Calmly, Harry follows Jeff’s instructions over the phone to take deep calming breaths, grounding him and allowing some sense of clarity to clear his aggravated head.

“So,” Jeff begins after a considerable amount of silence, “Mind telling me why you almost had a stroke on the middle of the road, Mr. Always-Treating-Everyone-With-Kindness-Even-Though-I-Just-Saw-Them-Drop-Their-Dog’s-Shit-On-My-Front-Yard.”

“Heyy, that was only once, and I let them go because I’ve read somewhere before that feces is good for the fertilization of soil.”

Jeff snorts, “You don’t even garden, bullshit to that, or should I say, dogshit to that.”

Harry chuckles, no matter how lame and unfunny Jeff was being he knows it’s his friend’s way of making him feel better.

“Sorry Jeffrey,” Harry says as he begins to explain his earlier actions, “It’s just that I had this afternoon set to pick-up Soph’s gift from the Vivienne Westwood store in central London, and you and Mitch’s party just kind of ruined that really.”

“Oh shit,” Jeff replies, sounding a bit apologetic now, “Sorry H, I thought you were supposed to do that yesterday, or I swear I wouldn’t have instigated Mitch to plan this night out with me.”

“I was supposed to do it yesterday, but my lovely baby also made a last minute plan to get our nails done together, and who was I to reject her kind efforts?”

“Obviously you’re Harry Styles, the most whipped man on this planet.”

“Exactly,” Harry agrees wholeheartedly to Jeff’s teasing, “And for the record, I knew you were the mastermind to this night out cause my mate Mitch is a responsible young lad, unlike you.”

“Excuse me?!” Jeff asks in shock, “I don’t deserve this vile treatment alone, alright? I’d allow you to be a prick when Mitch is here with me because I’m not the only one red-handed here.”

Harry chuckles, starting to drive-out from the parking lot as he has considerably calmed down now, more accepting of the fact that his original plans have already been detoured for a night out in town.

“You’re the mastermind though, Mitch was only a perpetrator.” Harry points out, scoffing Jeff is his only reply, “You two, especially you, have to shoulder my drinks tonight for the massive inconvenience you’ve brought upon me.”

“Oh, so you’re still going? I’m sure the whole lot would understand if I explained to them your situation.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to scoff, “Did you seriously think I’d leave you lot with my girlfriend on a bloody night out at the pub without my supervision? Who the fuck is going to take care of my Sunflower when she gets too tired dancing? Who the hell would attend to her if she got too many drinks in?”

Harry continues to list down all the things and reasons on why it’s a bad idea for him not to come, making sure to throw his friends under the bus (as kindly as he can, though), and adding emphasis on his soppy words about his Sunflower. Harry thinks Jeff deserves his ears to bleed with love as he begins to tell him the number of ways a drunk Sophia would ask him (or purposefully bite and suck on his earlobe to get his attention, Harry’s not selective of the manner) to hand-feed her food as he changes his direction to the latter’s house.

When Jeff has dropped his call in the middle of him explaining the specific details of the changes in Sophia’s laugh indicating the level of drunkness she’s in (rude), Harry’s reached the front door of his girlfriend’s house sending her a quick test that he’s waiting in his car outside.

Sophia looks utterly gorgeous in her cozy all-black autumn-ready night-out dress, a mixture of soft and sexy encapsulated in one stunning blond goddess. Harry feels almost inadequate being in her presence when said goddess opens the passenger door of his car, her bang perfectly framing her lovely face that’s smiling up at him.

“Hey, bunny.” Sophia bends a bit on her seat to kiss Harry on the lips in greeting, “Thank you for picking me up.”

“Hello, my Sunflower,” Harry bends this time on his seat to catch her lips for another kiss, Sophia giggling as he accepts his affections with puckered lips, “You look really lovely.”

“Thank you, again baby. So sweet.” Sophia says and Harry can feel her eyes run down his form as he sets his car back on drive now on their way to the pub where they’ll meet everyone else.

He knows her wandering eyes are filled with curiosity at his very apparent un-night out ready outfit, knowing his reputation of always being dressed best for the occasion is under scrutiny right now.

Harry tries to play it cool, “Can feel you staring, lovie.”

This breaks Sophia’s attention from her rapt staring at her boyfriend, clearing her throat a little.

“Just appreciating your soft look tonight, bunny. Looks goods on you.”

Harry smirks, knowing full-well that his naturally kind Sunflower does not have it in her to criticize, and actually say what her mind’s telling her to. So Harry takes it upon himself to explain his lack-of proper attire without baring his current misfortunes about her birthday gift.

“Well I can feel your mind thinking all the way from here, on why I look like this. And just to let you know, I didn’t pull-out the skinny jeans and flowy button-ups cause I don’t want to freeze my legs and nipples to death from this bloody chilly autumn weather.”

Instead of the appeased reaction he thinks Sophia would give him, when he looks sideways to her for a bit, Harry sees her eyes narrowing at him with her supple pink stained lips pursing in a little pout.

“Are you sure that’s true?” She asks, and Harry freezes for a moment his mind telling him that she probably has an inkling already of his failed attempts to get her birthday gift.

Before his mind can spiral to kind ways that he can teach Jeff a lesson for having a big mouth (I mean, who else could have told her this point?) Sophia speaks again,

“Like you didn’t purposefully wear joggers and a tee to the pub just so I could look better than you, right?” Harry almost chokes on air, and Sophia must have thought he got offended so she scrambles to explain herself further.

“NOT that you look bad or anything,” Sophia reassures him quickly, small dainty hand finding purchase on his right thigh curling around it securely. “I mean, you still look so smoking hot, bunny. I don’t think anybody can pull this look off better than you, like all the girls and boys at the pub would definitely agree with me, and probably want you to pull them home or whatever kids call hooking-up nowadays.”

Harry definitely chokes on air right now as he explodes in surprised laughter, “I don’t know where to begin, Sunflower but I guess I can start by saying thank you for your kind words about my comfortable look tonight, highly appreciate your words of affection as always. Also, you don’t need me to look like this to look better than me, you always fucking are; you’re my gorgeous goddess of a Sunflower!”

Another look sideways to her, Harry sees the pink flush on her cheeks and her timid smile not unnoticed either. Harry takes his right hand off the steering wheel and instead clutches her hand on his thigh tightly, bringing the back of it to his lips for a sweet gentle kiss before saying directly in her eyes,

“Though I think I’d definitely, surely, certainly, undoubtedly, decline any ‘pulling’ tonight. I’d love to think I’d already pulled you ages ago, what do you say we go straight to the pulling portion of the night?”

Sophia squeaks from his suggestion, “HARRY! It’s not even night time yet and you’re already so crude!”

Harry laughs despite her reaction, knows that she’d love him no other way, soft grey joggers and crude words all together. Harry thinks she deserves that damn pearl choker even more now.

***

A night out at the pub with your mates and their girlfriends is always a smashing blast. But unquestionably, the hungover that comes the next day is the definite smashing blast of a time, literally.

Harry thinks that nothing is worse than dragging yourself out the bed with a pounding headache, the only thing keeping him sane and away from his beautiful, cuddly, sleeping girlfriend on his bed is the fact that said girlfriend is the sole reason why he’s getting-up this early and leaving with one last lingering kiss on Sophia’s forehead before he goes to his car ready to hit the shops.

But then maybe Harry’s so hungover that he actually thought nothing can go worse than his current state, as if everything has been sunshine and rainbows for the past two days when he was about to do this specific task at hand. Really, he should have clocked the misfortune coming his way, and he’s not proud of the way he allowed it to shock him and affect his already sour mood to intensify when the misfortune showed itself to him.

Now, it wasn’t because of his girlfriend, but also not because of his friends, this time around the misfortune is hidden in the face of his lovely mother.

Harry receives a call from his mother while on his way once again to the Vivienne Westwood store in the busy streets of London, saying that he needs her lovely son’s help in her floristry. Harry’s not sure who’s the hungover one here, because the last time he checked his mother’s floristry is in Cheshire and he's all the way in London, how can she need his help when he can’t possibly give any? And then it all makes sense when Anne explains (as if talking to a five-year old Harry) that she was currently in London needing his help at her new floristry branch in town.

The surge of annoyance that begins to thrum in his veins is not lost in his tone, “Mum, I thought that would still be for the weekend next week? Like near the end of the month?”

“Well I wasn’t doing anything for the entire day, so yesterday I thought I might as well head to London today just to make an early start with some of the tasks.”

“Well, you could have told me the same thing before springing this information to me at this moment, like I have other things to do too.”

He hears Anne’s sigh of resignation at his sour mood, “Love, I know you’re usually a pleasant morning person, but I honestly don’t know what’s causing this crankiness right now. Are you alright?”

Harry’s unsure if any of them would like his honest answer so he doesn’t even try answering it, instead asks what specific help she needs from him so he can get it done and over with.

Anne thankfully doesn’t push it and asks Harry (well more so instructs him, like he can deny anything his mother may ask of him no matter how annoyed he is) to get himself to her new shop and she’ll tell him what to do once he’s there, adding that he’ll probably do most of the heavy lifting stuff and moving of this and that so he’ll still have some time to do whatever errands she had interrupted.

Harry thinks it was thoughtful of his mother to take that into account, but her shop is literally the other way around from the shop he needs to go for his special errands. Knowing the amount of work he had helped his mother with all her other shops no matter how she labeled it ‘just the heavy lifting’, Harry’s sure he wouldn’t have enough time to get the pearl choker, especially after he tells Sophia that he’s mother is in town, his Sunflower would love to wine and dine her mother like the perfect host she is.

So bitterness aside, Harry tries to think of happy thoughts while once again, detouring his car to the opposite direction of the Vivienne Westwood store much to his displeasure. He doesn’t want to subject his lovely (well, generally lovely if today was to be counted) to anymore of his rather sour mood and even made a quick stop to one of their favorite cafes around the area to fetch a quick pastry as a breakfast for the two of them to solidify that thought of happy thoughts and positive mood.

Anne was obviously delighted to have her usual cheery and joyous boy back, the two working efficiently and amicably as they happily munched on their pastries, conversing here and there about what Harry has been up to and Uni, exchanging stories about their own friends and love ones like they haven’t just FaceTimed earlier this week.

“So, what are your plans for Soph’s birthday?” Anne asks while the two were taking a short break from their work, “I hope you have something up your sleeve because that lovely girl deserves to be treated right on her special day.”

Well, don’t I know it, Harry thinks to himself. “Yeah, I’ve got something planned for it. It’s a surprise though so am not going to tell you.”

Just like his girlfriend, his mother looks at him like what he’s just said was unacceptable, “Why ever not?”

“Because I know you two!” Harry laughs at the exaggerated look of offence on her face, he knows he’s got some of his jokester side from her!

“And what’s that supposed to mean then?”

“That you two ladies love to go behind my back and connive with each other to go against me!”

Anne laughs, “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about but it’s her birthday, not yours so I don’t know what we’ll connive about if it’s not something to surprise you with.”

Harry looks at her with a barely concealed look of skepticism in his eyes, “Sure, I’d just train my mind to forget the time you two decided to make plans for the both of you behind my back like I’m sort of chopped liver left alone to my own devices not worthy of you guys’ time.”

“Heyyy..” Anne whines just an exact carbon copy to the way her son does it, “We thought you had plans with Mitch and Jeff! Soph and I even tried inviting you after, once we found out that you weren’t doing anything important.”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry snorts, “you two decided to give me a text after you’ve finished the hair salon, the nail salon, and even hitting the shops. Sure, I would have loved to follow along when all the fun was basically over.” he finishes in heavy sarcasm.

Anne just looks at him with an unrelenting cheeky smile, “Nope, we stand by innocent up to this day.”

“Yup, still not going to tell you the plans for her 21st!”

Harry leaves her protesting mother, laughing at her squawking protests to at least give her some bits of information as he makes his way back to his working station ready once again to make Anne’s new floristry branch come alive.

He thinks his mother’s unyielding smile thrown at him the rest of the day was enough repayment for another failed attempt at this one last special task that can’t seem to be fulfilled no matter the effort he produces to try and make it happen. To be honest, he thinks that the effort he had exerted in trying to keep-in all his angry emotions is more tiring than actually all the driving he had wasted trying to reach the store. Maybe he should just let things fall to his hands than make a direct effort to make it happen?

***

The fourth and last day for Harry to be able to purchase the reserved pearl choker, he lets go; allows the universe to dictate whatever may happen for the rest of the day.

So he spends his Sunday letting his normal weekend routine take the lead. Harry wakes up quite early in the morning, does his meditation and usual good morning messages to his loved ones before heading to his kitchen to make some french toast, sending a picture of the dish to his girlfriend who’s reply already made his day a good one.

From: Goddess of a girlfriend 🌻: “y u awake? me still 😴”

To: Goddess of a girlfriend 🌻: “Yeah? Are you my sleeping Sunflower right now?”

From: Goddess of a girlfriend 🌻: “yes, ‘m ur 😴 🌻”

After Harry fonds over his non-verbal and strictly-emoji-speaking-in-the-morning ladylove, he continues with his day and begins to accomplish some chores in his flat that he had placed aside over the week due to his course work in uni and all the tasks he had to do for Sophia’s surprise birthday picnic. He didn’t even notice the hours pass by, shocked to see that it was almost lunch time when he picked his phone amongst the neatly folded fresh laundry on his bed, ready to be placed and organized in his closet.

As part of his usual Sunday routine, Harry and Sophia take turns going to each other’s places to have lunch together. Last week, they cooked some vegan sliders in Sophia’s flat, indicating that today would be in his place. With that, Harry goes to his kitchen whistling along to some Spice Girls song he and the gang had sang and danced along during their impromptu night out. He opens the door of his fridge, cataloging its contents and thinking of a possible meal they can enjoy making and eating together.

Harry dials Sophia’s contact on his phone, the FaceTime video that greets him is Sophia’s already wide doe-eyes opened even wider with her mascara wand ready in hand. Harry stands there in the middle of his kitchen just looking and admiring her for a moment as she delicately coats her long lashes with the product, sighing dreamily when she blinks and opens her eyes to look directly at Harry.

“Beautiful,” Harry whispers, not being able to contain himself.

Sophia giggles, “Thank you bunny, you are too. Are you wearing my fluffy pink dressing gown? The one with sparkles on them?”

That makes Harry look down at his attire, giggling too when the lights of the kitchen make the little sparkles speckled on his (or his Sunflower’s apparently) dressing gown gleam even more. “Yeah, I think I am Sunflower. Didn’t even notice that I put it on. It’s really comfy though, and you think I look pretty right?”

“Yeah, always are. Especially in that soft pink color, lovie.” Sophia coos.

“Then I’d probably keep it, if it makes my precious Sunflower call me pretty even if I have yet to take a shower and all that glamming stuff you’re doing right now.”

“Not going to complain, cause I like you in my stuff anyway. Plus, you’re always a pretty bunny, no need for extra glamming up.”

Harry preens at her words, “Thank you my love, I also would like to say that you don’t need prettifying too just to have lunch here with me.”

A look of confusion passes along Sophia’s face, lip gloss wand held mid-air at a halt, “Lunch? Did we have plans or something?”

Harry almost chuckles at her confused expression, especially when what she said resembled the one he did days ago during his first attempt to get her gift. “Uhm, our usual Sunday routine lunch, baby? I think we can cook some spiced grilled salmon, and I think I also have some ingredients to mix up a ceasar salad.”

Sophia gasps, like actually gasps with a hand covering her mouth. Before Harry can start to get concerned at her reaction, she begins to ramble with her words.

“Oh my god! Bunny! I forgot to tell you that Sarah and Glenne insisted that we have a much-needed girl time and went ahead to reserve a table at this new sushi place in town. I’m so sorry that I forgot to inform you, bunny. Now I’m sure your Sunday plans are ruined because of me! Oh my gosh, maybe I can still cancel or something? Though they have been really explicit in saying that no boys are allowed, and I’d probably worry about your safety if you tried to join us. But, maybe I-”

“Sunflower, calm down. Ladylove, relax. No need to stress over anything.”

Harry’s much needed interruption was easily received, Sophia quieting down with a sad pout left on her lips.

Harry thinks it’s funny that his Sunflower was stressing about a simple thing as forgetting to tell him that she and the girls had made an all-exclusive girls only lunch, knowing within himself that if the roles were reversed she would also allow him to change their Sunday lunch routine without extra explanation. So Harry shares his thoughts and reassures Sophia that she certainly didn’t ruin his weekend.

“Besides,” Harry says, still not liking the present sad doubting pout on her lips, “I think Glenne and Sarah’s threats have come across very clearly to me, like I have no doubt that bodily harm will be inflicted on me if I chose to crash you girls’ time.”

Sophia laughs at that, making Harry smile at being able to do that and decides to continue, “Why are you laughing? I’m being serious here, lovie! Have you seen your friends? They’re scary.”

“Now don’t insult them,” Sophia giggles, feign warning in her tone, “or they might actually hear you and beat you up either way.”

Harry laughs in complete triumph, glad that he’s girl seemed to be back and cheery without any traces of that earlier sense of hesitation and sadness. He only wants her to be happy and tranquil, very much proud that he’s one of the only blessed people on earth who can give that to her.

The two continue to chat for a few more minutes, Sophia finishing her hair and makeup while accompanying Harry who’s preparing his lunch, the girl even suggesting for him to message Jeff and Mitch to plan their own all-boys thing so they won’t feel left out. Harry accepts her grain of wisdom and wishes her a good day in return once his ladylove needed to go and leave him to his lonesome.

Harry enjoys his lunch, thumbs typing away to the boy’s group chat asking if they want to meet up at his place for snacks and videogames. To his complete shock, they declined instantly and Harry almost threw his phone on the wall (well maybe he was exaggerating a bit). It’s just that they never decline so easily on any lads plans , especially on a weekend. When he soon finds out why, Harry actually accidentally drops his phone to the floor as he clutches his stomach in loud laughter.

Apparently, Mitch and Jeff had a lot of pending uni course work to finish after being too hungover yesterday to even attempt doing any. Harry truly believes that karma’s a bitch (and wholeheartedly says the same thing to Mitch and Jeff), it only serves them right for ruining his plans last Friday.

Harry’s laughter ceases abruptly, eyes widening upon the realization that he actually has no plans for his day, definite zero plans with any of the people that are prone to interrupt them.

That may only mean one important thing, Harry thinks, quickly finishing his lunch and scrambling for his phone to text the last person that might need his time and alter the route of his day.

Anne replies to his text quite swiftly, Harry genuinely hearing angel’s sing in his flat with his mother’s words that none of his help will be needed for her shop today.

Fuck, is this actually my life right now? Harry thinks, trying to calm his excitement as he makes his way to have a shower and get dressed for the day. He’s learned these past few days that he should take every situation given to him lightly, or else he’d just get devastated when some misfortune ruins it again.

Alright, continue letting the universe do its thing Harry; don’t agitate it and don’t appear too eager or it might poke fun at you and decide to even mess further with your thin chances of being the best boyfriend on earth! Harry feels he might be going crazy if these are the thoughts he’s having while in the shower.

***

Harry’s legs are bouncing up and down on his seat inside his car during a red light, that anxious leg bouncing that you don’t even notice you’re doing nor can stop when you do.

It’s just that his GPS is telling him that the Vivienne Westwood store is literally three minutes away from this stoplight, and nothing bad has happened to Harry yet. He doesn’t really know what kind of misfortune might befall him today when he’s literally minutes away from his destination, but he’s also not that wishful thinking that nothing bad will happen at all. It’s not like he's looking for the misfortunes too (just paranoid, really), but he’d rather take the misfortune right now then later when he’s secured the goods.

Speaking of the goods, Harry was far too lost in his thoughts of fear that he didn’t even realize that now he’s parked just right in front of the Vivienne Westwood store, hands and eyes roaming across his body to check if nothing bad really happened to him on his way here. Astounded that he found nothing wrong or out of the ordinary, he slowly makes his way out of his car and inside the designer store.

The transaction was far too easy and smooth. The lady he talked over the phone with days ago presenting him the pearl choker itself not even five minutes in, making Harry way more skeptic when the pastel pink Vivienne Westwood paper bag was handed to him all kindly by the store clerk as if this was an everyday thing for them (which it probably is), but not for Harry who’s dealt far more stress and adversity in his life just trying to achieve this simple task.

“Thank you very much,” Harry says to the other kind store clerk who opened the door of the store for him as he exited, left hand clenched tightly to the strings of the paper bag.

On autopilot, Harry enters his car and gingerly places the paper bag on the passenger seat, going the extra mile and strapping it on the seat. On his drive back to his flat, he thinks it was quite uneventful, the triumph to the end of his birthday gift misfortunes seeming to be no triumph at all.

But later on, when he’s arrived at home and freely smiling and chuckling at the positive turn of events for the day, he realizes that he probably shouldn’t have downplayed his success by finally obtaining the pearl choker just like he had thought. Because the moment he enters his bedroom, he trips on absolutely nothing, as in just air, dropping hard to the floor with the paper bag just a few feet below his lying form on the ground. Harry groans loudly, absolutely knows that it’s what he gets for devaluing the kindness that the universe lent him earlier.

***

Nothing is going to stand against Harry’s way. The 20th of October would be perfect, must be perfect.

Harry thinks he’s earlier statement during the start of the month, might have been up to something right. How can it not when it’s the morning of the 20th of October and he’s got his Sunflower’s left nipple on his lips, sucking softly and contentedly.

Sophia feels a warm wet heat on her chest, stirring to her senses when she experiences the feeling intensify. She opens her sleep-blurred eyes, catching Harry’s green ones filled with unbridled mirth, abruptly springing back to life from the unadulterated heat creeping up her body. Harry gives her hardened nub a nip with his teeth, swiftly giving the pink nipple a lick to soothe the sting, Sophia’s back arches away from the mattress at the heady sensation.

“Nghhh..” Sophia exhales a mixture of a moan and a groan, hands grasping the messy curls on Harry’s head as the latter continues his loving assaults to her breasts, now alternating his attention on one rosy nipple to the other with the flesh of her tits being littered with adoring sucks and kisses too.

“Holy shit..ahh..” Sophia presses his face closer to her chest, “What the fuck did I wake up to? Jesus, your mouth bunny..nghh!”

With his big hands, Harry gently grabs both of Sophia’s breasts with one on each hand, squeezing it together and bringing it towards the middle of her chest, mouth opening wide and head ducking down to fit both nipples inside the wet heat of his salivating mouth, lips expertly sucking and tongue lusciously licking tight circles on her sensitive nubs.

Sophia’s back arches even further, mouth in a perpetual ‘o’ state as her boyfriend sucks one last deep kiss on her breasts, leaving with an audible pop and a string of his saliva connecting his lips to her breasts, now flushed pink from his earlier attention. Harry smiles devilishly at her already wrecked state, softly massaging the sides of her exposed body, realizing that the shirt of Harry’s that she wore last night was bunched up all the way to her neck.

“Because it’s your special day, I believe my Sunflower deserves some special tending to, right?” He wiggles his eyebrows exaggeratedly making Sophia shake her head in disbelief how he can turn from a dark sensual Harry and back to her often soft and goofy bunny with just a snap of a finger.

Instead of replying, Sophia makes a show of roaming her eyes to the shirt tucked on her neck and hand resting on the hem of it while the other goes to the side band of her white lacy thong, inching it up higher, giving a coy look at Harry’s wandering hungry eyes.

“I’m surprised I still have clothes on, honestly.”

Harry groans loudly, pushing aside her hand holding the hem of his shirt that she had comfortably worn for bedtime and takes the initiative to remove it from her body, throwing it aside somewhere in her room.

“You cheeky little bug,” Harry says amusedly, hands finding their way to touch her newly exposed skin, “Be thankful it’s your birthday..” his thumb and pointer finger rolling her right nipple under the pads.

Sophia exhales a long breath at the feeling, “Well aren’t you going to greet me first?” She takes his expert fingers away from her skin and brings it to her lips with a fleeting kiss before enveloping it with her mouth, sucking his fingers languidly.

The reaction she had wanted to elicit out of Harry was achieved in mere seconds, the latter withdrawing his fingers from her hot wet mouth and urgently surges his lips to hers in a heated passionate kiss. Sophia smiles in glee at his responsiveness, arms and legs wrapping tightly around Harry who’s body is completely glued on top of hers.

Unceasing kissing, top and bottom lips nipped and sucked from each other’s mouths, tongues touching and gliding together in a harmonious pattern of passion, big hands slowly caressing her delicate body with her dainty exhales the only thing coherent she can respond with.

“Fuck, you’re delectable.” Harry raps on her slicked bitten-red lips, expertly flipping their position, prompting a breath of shock from Sophia as Harry maneuvers their bodies in complete ease, his back resting on the headboard with his legs wide open, securely placing Sophia between them with her body leaning back against his heaving naked chest.

“Na-uh,” Harry whispers to her ears hotly, reaching over her closed bended legs to part them wide like his, left hand sliding down to her thighs gripping the milky white flesh while the other curves around her tummy to keep her in place.

Sophia mewls at his soft touches drifting from the bottom of her thigh to the top of it, hand on her belly quietly tapping and caressing her little roundness there, something she knows Harry’s quite obsessed with just like she is with his love handles.

“Bunny, please?” Sophia exhales on his neck where her head was resting, nuzzling it and leaving open-mouth wet kisses and licks to every area of skin she can reach. "Please, bunny? Please more, please..

Harry continues his apparent teasing, hands skimming her inner thighs before returning to her hip bone where the string of her thong is still in obstruction, his nimble fingers snapping it away from her skin, making Sophia gasp and slightly jolt from his hold. But when Harry decides to do no further than that and deliberately repeat his earlier actions, Sophia whines in complaint.

“Shhh, patience my little Sunflower,” Harry soothes, dropping kisses to her shoulder and pinching her now warm tummy. He raises both his legs to place over her parted ones to completely lock her in place, her modesty covered in nothing but her already wet lacy white thong on full display.

Sophia bites her bottom lip, having an inkling to the flow of her boyfriend’s next action as the latter places his right hand all over her pubic mound without any preamble.

“Ohhh fuck,” Sophia cries out softly, feeling Harry’s hand make a hearty grab of her vagina atop her soaked panties.

“Hmm..” Harry hums appreciatively, index and middle finger slowly sliding down to her still covered pussy lips, “So fucking wet already, is my Sunflower’s peach dripping her sweetness for me?”

“Mhhmm, always sweet and dripping for my bunny,” Sophia whimpers as she feels another surge of her arousal flow out of her entrance, Harry’s fingers making instant contact with it resulting in a loud groan of pleasure from her boyfriend.

“Shit, so insatiable, lovie, really dripping uncontrollably on my fingers.” He says almost in wonder, bringing his hand out from her thong, fingers glistening wet with her juices as he brings it to his mouth for a taste.

The couple moan noisily in unison, Harry from the familiar sweet tangy taste of her on his mouth, Sophia at the visual of her bunny enthusiastically licking and sucking his fingers clean, making sure to not waste any of her precious slick. All plans of teasing and drawing this out must have been erased from Harry’s usual sexual agenda as he briskly reached for the band of her arousal-ruined thong sliding it down her fully parted legs, stopping just below her knees.

“Keep those on,” He instructs her gently but firmly, “Will help keep your legs open while I’m having my way at your soaking sweet peach.”

Sophia nods her head uselessly, verbal words now a foreign concept as desire flooded her entire system. Harry seems satisfied with her response, probably feeling smug at his ability to completely render her speechless.

He continues his sweet assault to her body, right hand sliding to cup her entire bare cunt, feeling warmth emanate from within her accompanied with the sticky substance of her wetness. Sophia’s hips buck-up at the first touch of Harry’s fingers on her clit, moaning in appreciation when he gently moves his fingers in circles on the highly sensitive bud. Harry alternates his attention on her clit with bringing his fingers a bit lower to gather more of her wetness at the opening of her pussy lips, indulgently spreading it all over her cunt.

“Will you look at that?” Harry says, catching Sophia’s attention, enraptured by anything Harry does or says right now. She looks at his smirking face, following his line of vision which was resting on his right hand, the hand that has been giving her immense pleasure is completely coated in her thick white wetness.

“Fuck, that’s a lot Sunflower,” Harry brings the hand back down on her opening feeling around, the two of them looking down to see the continuous flow of her wetness, viscous and so much that she feels it pooling at her pink satin sheet and even seeping at the crack of her arse.

“You haven’t even come yet and you’re already so juicy and creamy,” Harry says in wonder, shamelessly bringing his hand to his mouth for another taste, dipping his fingers back on her pussy to scoop more after. Sophia groans and feels a flush run up her cheeks at how dirty and messy this all is.

“Bunny, you’re obscene. You can’t just keep eating that thing from my vagina!” Sophia exclaims in retaliation when Harry returns for the fourth dip, feeling sexual frustration slowly rising within her at the lack of attention and stimulation from her boyfriend.

Harry just looks at her coyly, pink lips stained white with her creamy wetness, “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, baby.” and he surges forward to kiss her. Sophia can’t help the loud moan that erupts out of her when she tastes her own self from his lips, completely unprepared when Harry’s fingers suddenly part her opening and plunges two of his fingers up to the knuckle.

“Ohhh..uhh.. sweet jesus!” Sophia whimpers again and groans as Harry moves his fingers in and out of her pussy, thighs clenching when he uses his thumb to rub her clit, hands finding purchase at her pink sheets grasping it when Harry curls his fingers inside her, hitting that spongy spot inside.

“Ughh, that’s so good, so fucking good, oh god..” Sophia’s eyes shut close at the pleasure, moving her hips a bit to get his fingers deeper inside her.

“Yeah, so good?” Harry asks on her ear, incessantly moving his finger inside her to hit her g-spot dead-on, squeaky sound of her wetness surrounding the entire room, “Love me fucking your peach with my fingers, hm? Can’t believe this sweet pretty thing can be so messy and greedy. Look, don’t even want to let go of my fingers.” Harry makes a show of sliding his fingers out only for her pussy lips to clench and release more sticky wetness to keep him in place.

“Oh my god..” Sophia cries in pleasure when Harry swiftly plunges his fingers back, feeding her pussy the white creamy thickness it had already given out. He continues to fuck her with his fingers, his thumb flicking back up to her clit and Sophia feels her arousal building within her in an instant, thighs trying to close together but Harry clocks her before being able to. His left hand pushed her legs wide open again, threatening the white thong on the bottom of her knees to rip from how stretched out her legs are.

“Harry, ohhh god, bunny, sooo good, too much good!” Sophia wails helplessly, gripping Harry’s knee that was locking her legs in place, the latter only increasing the actions of his right hand on her pulsing cunt, fucking her deep in and out, his left hand having found its purpose on rubbing furiously side to side on her clit, Sophia’s body already shaking with all the sensations mixing together to create a joyful, whimpering mess out of her.

Harry knows her body inside and out, so he definitely must have noticed the signs of her impending orgasm, eyes trained on her extremely glistening wet pussy before looking at her face filled with uncontained sexual enjoyment.

Just when she’s about to reach her peak, Harry stops every movement of his hands. Sophia actually screams out in resentment, ready to berate him. Though she stops in her tracks when Harry rapidly moves away from her back and impressively pushes her own back to rest on the headboard while fitting himself between her parted legs, sliding her thong up to her ankles and raising her legs to rest on his shoulders.

With a wink thrown her way, Harry dives straight into her pussy, his lips, nose, and chin already wet just from the first contact. If Sophia’s moans were already something with just his fingers, the joys Harry’s skillful tongue can give her cannot compete with the heights and intensity her moans are reaching.

Harry prods and flicks his tongue inside her pussy, enjoying licking everything that comes out of her, nose even nuzzling her clit. It’s all too much and too sudden that Sophia begins to quiver intensely, head thrown back mewling deafeningly, hands tugging at Harry’s curls to warn him of her speedily approaching orgasm.

Instead of listening, Harry just devours her cunt even more enthusiastically, with so much more vigor. And when he knows that Sophia can’t hold it any longer, he slid his tongue out of her pussy and clamps it down on her clit to suck harshly, his slight nip at the highly sensitive nub the one to press the tap of her orgasm as Sophia shouts in utter ecstasy as she comes, her pussy squirting so much liquid wetting the entirety of Harry’s face as thick ropes of cum gush out of her entrance too.

Sophia feels so good yet so exhausted after, that she thinks she loses consciousness for a bit. The last thing she remembers is feeling more of her come stream out of her hole, its squeaky sound intensified as Harry begins to clean her with his now gentle tongue, the sight of him looking positively happy and satisfied while doing so, is enough reassurance that Harry won’t mind if she falls back to sleep again.

Before her eyes close, she catches Harry watching her, smiling proudly and looking quite ridiculous with her release spread everywhere on his face.

“Happy 21st birthday, my Sunflower. I love you always.”

***

“So are you going to tell me now where we’re going?”

“Again, how can it be a surprise if I just tell you now? Do you even know how a surprise goes? Or like what that even means?”

Harry snickers at the look of disdain Sophia is giving her, eyes returning back on the road in front of him as he drives the two of them to the secret destination for her birthday picnic.

After the very eventful morning they’ve had (which if anyone is asking, was definitely continued in the bathroom to Harry’s utter delight), the two had proceeded to get a head-start with their day, Harry informing Sophia giddily that her special day was indeed going to be much more special than her envisioned movie night and baking together.

Harry had prepared the two of them some vegan chocolate chip pancakes, Sophia trying her hardest to sweet talk him and get as much information about their day. Harry didn’t even bat an eye at her futile attempts to cuddle behind him while they were eating, whispering words of appreciation at his rather pleasant regard for her this morning, Harry only noses at her cheek and picked up his own fork to feed her another bite of their breakfast telling her to dress in her best summer dress.

Obviously, Sophia had looked at him like he had grown two heads as he consistently reassured her while getting ready that he wasn’t going crazy and there’s no way in hell that he would let her, on her bloody birthday even, to freeze her brain-off.

“You’re too young for that, not going to plan your demise on your 21st.” Harry had teased her, Sophia looked at him with mock disturbance.

“But you are planning my death? Like on my 23rd birthday, or something?”

“Nah, that’s too young. Maybe when we have an off-spring already so there’s still you in some form.”

“BUNNY! You’re so ridiculous!”

Harry had sufficiently distracted Sophia enough with his weird words to successfully hide her birthday gift somewhere in his car as his girlfriend followed his instructions of dressing in her chosen summer dress and left it to Harry to bring warmer gear.

When they were ready to leave her place, Sophia had looked at Harry with a clear sense of betrayal on her face, hands gesturing wildly at his attire of a cream colored long-sleeve button-up under a baby blue knitted jumper with a cute little chick stitched in the middle.

“What’s this?” She had asked in bewilderment. Harry had looked at his attire, unsure what she meant by her comment.

“Um, my jumper? I think mum got it for me a few weeks ago, want me to ask her where it’s from?”

Sophia had just stared at him in annoyance, “My question is not where you got it, it's more on why the heck are you wearing that and I’m wearing a sleeveless summer dress? Are you sure you’re just not taking the piss at me today?”

Harry knew he wasn’t supposed to laugh when his girlfriend seemed to be serious with her question, but she had that disgruntled kitten face on and he’s not immune to that so he laughed. Evidently, Sophia just got more annoyed at his reaction and had decided to completely ignore him as they had started their journey to her surprise. That just won’t do for Harry, especially when he had even made a special birthday-road trip playlist for her that she’s not commenting on or even singing along to. In the end, Harry relents and decides to tell her something about his surprise just to be back on her good side.

Of course, all he said was that it would be outdoors and that wherever it is, they’ll be eating their lunch there. Sophia thought once Harry had begun telling her some stuff, she could continue to squeeze every information out of him, but her boyfriend had better self-restraint now after the trials he had faced just for her damn birthday gift, so it would take him more than her silent treatment for him to spill his surprise. Instead, Harry had promised Sophia that she can wear his jumper later when she gets cold, knowing that she has more interest in his blue jumper than she had let on.

To Harry’s relief, it had appeased his girlfriend’s questioning for the greater part of their drive, except now when she decides she’s garnered more energy to start pestering Harry with questions again now that they’re about five minutes away from their destination.

“Whatever, you’re no fun.” Sophia says after Harry had just teased her right now about not being knowledgeable about surprises.

She knows that he was only joking and trying to deflect her questioning, so instead of indulging his segway for banter, Sophia moves closer to him by wrapping an arm around his position on the gear shift and nuzzles her face on the soft wool covering his biceps.

Harry chuckles at the sudden change in her demeanor, “You sleepy, baby?”

Sophia nods meekly, using his arm to cover her yawn, “Yeah, kinda. May you please tell me how near or far we are still? I’m sure that you can tell me.”

“Thank you for asking so nicely, Sunflower,” Harry giggles on her hair, dropping a little kiss on her bangs, “And yes, that I can surely tell you without giving away my amazing surprise; we’re about three to five minutes away.”

Sophia groans, rubbing her cheek on his jumper, “Maybe you can carry me there, or something?”

“Can’t, might trip on the grass and drop the two of us on our assess in the picnic set-up.”

The two gasp simultaneously after that, hands on their mouths in shock. Harry because he pretty much just blurted out that they’ll be having a picnic when they’re already inside the grounds of their destination, and Sophia because she didn’t even have to try anything this time for him to spill her birthday surprise.

“Shit!” Harry face palms himself, Sophia returning to sit properly on her seat unable to contain her enjoyment, “You weren’t supposed to know that! Forget that you heard anything!” He even points a finger at her for emphasis.

Sophia’s giggles only intensify at his adorable distressed kitten face, “Well I guess I should trust you more when you said that you’ll tell me about the surprise eventually; eventually meaning you’ll confess your own surprise literally a minute away to achieve it.”

“Shut it!” Harry says firmly, yet without any heat as he’s trying to control his laughter for he’s epic failure. Seriously, how does this happen to him? Sophia literally didn’t even do anything this time and he’s too-honest of a mouth just decided to spill valuable information.

Ultimately, Harry can’t hold in his laughter anymore (the fact he even tried is laughable on its own) and the couple enjoyed a few minutes of laughter in the parking lot of their destination, ending in a few fond kisses shared between the two.

Now that she knows the general gist of what this day will entail, Sophia excitedly accepted the knitted cardigan that Harry had brought for her, securing it tightly around her long pink satin summer dress as they make their way out of Harry’s car, the latter opening her door for her like the absolute gentleman that he is.

“I’m not wearing heels, no need for your arm around me.” Sophia says when Harry’s arm remained wrapped around her waist as they began to walk in the flat grounds of the massive park Harry had brought them this early afternoon.

“Don’t care, want you always by my side, lovie.” Harry retorts in a saccharine sweet voice, dropping a loud smack of his lips on her flushing cheeks.

“You’ve already prepared me a picnic, no need for extra sappy words. Love you a lot more for even arranging this day.” Sophia says, reaching for the arm around to hold on.

Harry looks at her side of the face, amazed, “You haven’t even seen it yet and you’re already dropping the ‘L-word’ bombs. What if it was shit?”

Sophia snickers, squeezing his that’s curled against her hip, “Not possible, you know how much I adore picnics. And the fact that you’re giving me one in the middle of the bloody chilly autumn weather, makes me extra excited and grateful to know and see how you’ll pull this one off.”

Sophia’s excitement was certainly pleased upon seeing the special birthday picnic that Harry had gotten prepared for her. It was situated in the middle of an open area, the green grass free from any orange leaves that must fall from the various surrounding trees of the area. White pillars are stationed in the little stone walkway that they’re currently passing by to come nearer the picnic set-up.

Sophia’s positively awed when they finally reached the picnic set-up itself, admiring all the potted flower arrangements scattered around the vicinity. She claps in excitement as she scans the little pastries, sandwiches and snacks placed on the little low pink table for two on the ground, more flowers and some pink candles situated within the table are visible too.

“And I think this is the ultimate finishing touch for your birthday picnic,” Harry says, catching her attention to look at what he’s pointing out.

Sophia laughs as she notices for the first time the big white, fringy umbrella propped on the ground. “There’s no sunlight, H! This huge umbrella is definitely not needed.”

Harry only rolls his eyes at her, “Obviously, I know that. I still got it placed here though to take some cute pictures of you under it.”

“Some?” Sophia teases, knowing how often Harry makes her pose for pictures every time they go out.

“Now, you’re no fun,” Harry copies her earlier utterance at him in his car, “Is it such a shame that you have a dotting boyfriend that loves to have his Sunflower’s face all-over his technological devices and social media accounts?”

“No, not really, as long as said Sunflower can also take her turn taking pictures of her charming, enchanting, bewitching boyfriend?”

Harry places a hand on his heart, “I would love to, I thought you’d never ask.”

***

The picnic was a success, that much Harry can confidently say as he prepares Sophia’s third cup of lavender tea, seeming to be her new favorite thing thanks to Harry’s creative choices of food and beverages.

“Are you sure this is edible?” Sophia asks as they begin to eat a new box of pastries, pointing specifically at a sugar cookie frosted with white icing and a final touch of an edible flower in the middle.

She looks up at Harry after taking a photo of said cookie, he’s stopped mid-chew with his cheeks filled with the cookie in question looking at her sheepishly.

“I think it’s edible?” He answers, unsure. “It better fucking be cause I just stuffed my face with half of it in one bite.”

Sophia giggles, reaching over the table to wipe-off some of the crumbs that have fallen on the side of his lips, thumb digging on the dimple that was now caved-in on his cheek due to her caring touch. It hits her how much she’s in-love with this carefree and kind spirited angel, who has taken it upon himself to go the extra mile and prepare this picturesque summer picnic for her no matter the odds that the autumn weather had proposed. The simple action of actually giving his jumper for her to wear right after they had taken their photos, shows how he follows through with his promises and how genuine he is with his intentions.

“I love you,” Sophia blurts out, completely out of the blue if the widening of Harry’s eyes in clear surprise is any indication.

Harry holds her hand that is gently rubbing his cheek in affection, “I love you too, my Sunflower. I hope you’re having an amazing 21st birthday, I only want to make you happy all the time.”

“Aren’t you a simple man with simple dreams? Cause I can assure you that you do, in fact always make me happy.”

And that’s true, Sophia can write paragraphs upon paragraphs of the simple things that Harry does unknowingly or knowingly that always makes her feel like the happiest girl in the world. Might it be the simple mundane things, like picking her up after her class for uni because he knows how his company always gives her a sense of comfort and rest after such a stressful studios day, or how he sometimes gets her new blankets and quilts every time he goes out to the shops because he knows how she gets easily cold and love to smother herself with the warmth the cotton or wool provides, even if she’s got a whole collection of blankets already he consistently finds ways to spoil her. Like right now, Sophia feels all the happy hormones in her body springing alive as Harry slots her under his arm allowing her to borrow her face on his soft warm chest, the two cuddling close as Harry had expertly packed them a bunch of blankets that they can wrap themselves around with during their picnic. Theoretically, the amount of blankets he had brought makes it possible for them to have a few each, but Harry had been insistent on keeping her close to his side for the entirety of their day, promises of hand-feeding her their treats and sharing the last cup of lavender tea was enough persuasion for Sophia to share her blankets with him. And let’s be honest, is it really even a chore to be cuddled-up and snuggled warm in the strong secure arms of your boyfriend?

So Sophia contentedly spends the rest of her day in the coziness of Harry’s presence, conversations between the two were ever-present as they finished their way on every single morsel left of their delicious picnic delicacies.

“Crap, it’s finished,” Sophia informs Harry, raising the last pink box that contained their food and flipping it over to show her point. “I think you ate majority of the contents of this one, Bunny.”

Harry feigns a gasp, “Totally not true, you just think that cause I probably picked most of it with my hand, but fed it to your waiting mouth Ms. Birthday girl.”

“You make me sound like such a spoiled and starved person,” Sophia laughs.

“I mean you kinda are, don’t think I didn’t notice the times you physically grabbed my hand to feed you the sandwich that was supposed to be for me, not even a minute after finishing yours.”

“That only happened once!” Sophia defends her dignity, giggling along with her boyfriend. “And it’s not my fault you genuinely wanted to indulge me on everything I want to today, you spoil me enough on the regular, lovie.”

Harry sighs happily, not even trying to deny her point, “Totally true, and you so deserve much more than what I give you daily, Sunflower. And since it’s your birthday right now, it gives me a better reason to spoil you even more. Get ready for these special treats coming your way.”

Sophia doesn’t know what he means by that, staying planted on her cushion seat as Harry removes his hold around her to stand-up, instructing her to stay where she is and just leaving her with a wink. She doesn’t know where he’s headed, but chuckles to herself nonetheless upon witnessing a happily skipping Harry going somewhere to fetch some more treats for her.

Not even more than five minutes later, her boyfriend arrives back in her sight, this time around carrying something on his hands that’s covered in one of his woolen blankets that she loves to use when she’s at his flat. Whatever may be inside the thing he’s carrying, seems to be something important judging the way Harry takes his time to walk.

Instead of going back to his seat beside Sophia, Harry carefully places the blanket covered thing he was carrying just seconds ago. Sophia just looks at him curiously as Harry takes a seat on the bare grass beside it.

“Okay,” Harry claps his hands, an excited smile on his lips, “Before you open this very special parcel from me, I want you first to blow a candle and make a wish.”

Harry begins to reach inside the front pocket of his trousers, producing a tissue covered rainbow sprinkled cookie much to Sophia's surprise.

“I knew that one of the boxes was missing one treat,” She says in jest, as Harry smiles mischievously at her while retrieving a little pink candle on his other pocket together with a lighter.

“I honestly snuck this one in my pockets for a treat for myself later, like on our way back home in the car while you’re sleeping. Then I realized I did forget to reserve another treat for you to use as your birthday cake to wish on, since I know you’re not that keen on cakes in general.” Harry confesses, smiling sheepishly at her.

Sophia decides to tease him, “So thank the lord for your cheeky ways of sneaking a cookie in your pocket to munch on later without the knowledge of your girlfriend?”

“Exactly!” Harry says in utter agreement, “I knew you would always see the better light of any situation.”

Sophia just snorts at her bunny’s dorkiness, deciding to let his antics go and just appreciate his cute gesture as Harry twists the candle to stand properly in the middle of the cookie before lighting it up with the lighter on his other hand. It doesn’t even surprise her when Harry begins to sing her a happy birthday, voice deep and melodious as he asks her to close her pretty eyes and make a wish.

Her wish was simple, to just be able to spend all her next birthdays on this earth with her bunny right beside her. She blows the candle with a smile on her face just thinking about this time next year and wondering whatever cloying thing Harry might have under his sleeve for her 22nd.

Before her mind can get lost in any more exciting thoughts about their future together, Harry clears his throat gaining her attention. He has a timid smile on his lips, hand placing the cookie with a candle on the table before rubbing both his hands together as if ready to explain something, eyes darting back and forth from her eyes and the blanket covered package in front of them.

Sophia grins, “Is this my pressie?”

Harry returns her grin, “Yeah, it is. And for someone who has time and time again said they don’t want anything for their birthday, you seem oddly excited for this.”

Sophia squeaks in indignation, cheeks coloring with a blush in slight embarrassment, “Well I don’t need anything more special than you just being here with me and all, but that doesn’t meant I can’t appreciate or get excited when you decide to also give me some material things.”

Harry smiles kindly at her explanation, reaching over the parcel between them to give her a tender kiss on the lips, couldn’t resist biting her tempting plump bottom lip as they part.

“I know, my love. I was just kidding, no need to be embarrassed about anything, Sunflower. Besides, I think that I’m the one who’s supposed to be a little bit embarrassed here for what I’m about to confess.”

Now Sophia looks at Harry in confusion, unsure if she should feel concerned about where this conversation might lead to. Sensing her conflict, Harry reaches for both her hands to interlock with his own, resting it cautiously on the seemingly highly precious cargo between them.

“I’m not confessing anything extreme, so no need to worry your pretty little head over anything, my Sunflower.” Sophia trusts Harry with everything she has so his reassurance has simply calmed her whirling mind. She lets their connected touch to ground her, squeezing his hand reassuringly for him to continue.

Harry exhales soundly before breaking into a few chuckles, “It’s ridiculous how nervous I’m being when I know I technically didn’t even do anything wrong. It’s just that I know you’d ask eventually how I knew you wanted a picnic for your birthday, and I’m surprised it hasn’t even come up yet this entire afternoon.”

“It didn’t really cross my mind to be honest,” Sophia supplies, thumb rubbing his knuckles in thought. “I mean I just assumed you knew I loved picnics in general, cause we do it every summer wherever we maybe, and you wanted to give that experience to me on my special day.”

“Well maybe I wasn’t as smart as you thought I was then, since it didn’t come quickly to me what you had possibly wanted to do today besides a regular chill night-in together that you had specifically voiced about. Not going to lie, but it took me like half of a day to figure out what special thing to do for your birthday and what the heck I was going to get you.”

“Half a day isn’t bad at all, bunny. Is this what you’re nervous about telling me? Because you know that I don’t really care about that and I’d love you just as much even if you didn’t go the extra mile and plan this day out.”

“No, it’s not that,” Harry smiles, how can he not every time he’s girlfriend tells him she loves him, “And I love you so much too, Sunflower, even if you were too shy to express what you have wanted in the first place which made me result in doing something I’ve never done before.”

“What do you mean? You’ve planned a picnic date for us several times already.”

There’s once again that sheepish glint in Harry’s smile as he begins to just come out with what had occurred, “Well those times I knew you wanted to have a picnic, this time around I didn’t. So I’ve kind of stumbled upon your Pinterest account in my laptop upon researching for what special thing I can do, and I might have.. well I certainly did look around your boards and found out what kind of celebration and gift you wanted.”

“Alright, that’s all it is?”

Sophia watches in absolute amusement at the way Harry’s jaw suddenly drops, like he can’t believe what just came out of her mouth.

“What do you mean ‘that’s all it’? You’re not even mad or anything? I basically snooped into your private Pinterest account, Sunflower.”

Sophia just shrugs her shoulders, in a completely nonchalant way, “It’s really not a big deal, bunny. You know how much I value communication in our relationship and this just shows me that you do too. And it’s not really snooping when you didn’t actively try to find my Pinterest, it just stumbled upon your responsible hands.”

“Phew,” Harry breathes out in relief, right hand wiping imaginary sweat from his forehead, “Aren’t you a sweet little thing? Again, you really do see the positive perspective in every situation.”

“I mean, you might even want to call me a sweet and genius little thing for accidentally leaving my account open on your laptop, cause it literally brought me to this amazing summer picnic surprise in bloody autumn, and what I’m assuming is also a superb birthday pressie without even having to verbally confess it myself.”

“Ohh, so that’s how it is then?” Harry chuckles at the smug look on Sophia’s gentle features, “You think you’re such a clever little Sunflower for getting your silent way through this? Well if you’re that smart, then you for sure know what’s inside this little thing here? Cause baby, this was the farthest thing from easy to get.”

This time around, Sophia gives Harry a rather questioning expression, “For argument's sake, I would like to say that yeah, I’m a genius little Sunflower and definitely know what’s my pressie, but for sincere communications sake, I honestly have not opened my Pinterest for a good three to four months already? Like, I’m a sweet, genius, and quite forgetful little Sunflower?”

It really should be funny the way Harry actually physically deflates on his seat on the grass, no remnants of his joking humor left on his cherubic face in just like a flick of her dainty fingers. A pout begins to form on Sophia’s cold lips at the emerging almost deprecating sad smile on Harry’s similarly chilly wind-bitten lips.

“Well shit,” Harry lets out, squeezing their interlocked hands tighter with a quite dejected chuckle released, “Not going to lie, I had to go through a handful of shitty situations just to get you this gift, and I’m going to tell you all about it later. I just bloody hope you’ll still love it, even if you apparently have not opened your account for a few months now. But, I’d still love you nonetheless if you decide to return it and I’ll happily get you something else.”

“Oh, bunny. Come here,” Sophia lightly pulls on their connected hands to bring him towards her, the two meet half-way over the present in a crushing hug. Sophia tries her best to convey in her hug the reassurance her bunny needs, that there’s literally no room for him to be nervous about anything. Cradling his face, she scatters several sweet kisses all over his face, wanting that dimple on his cheek to appear once again.

“Bunny, I’m sure I'm still going to love your pressie no matter what it is, no need to worry about anything. Always grateful for anything you give me, right? I did still love those macaroni friendship bracelets you made for me way back in our younger days even if it got infested with ants later on and I still cleaned it and wore it the following day.”

“I guess,” Harry finally giggles, probably remembering seven-year old him tenderly kissing the ant-bitten red skin of her tiny wrist even if six-year old her had countlessly reassured his sad pouting face that everything was alright and they’re still the bestest of friends.

“It’s not an I guess, is a definite yes that I’m still going to adore whatever is in this, you know what, let’s actually open this now so you can see that I’m being honest like always.”

With one of their hands still intertwined, together they begin to unravel the blanket, revealing the pink Vivienne Westwood paper bag under it. Sophia’s eyes widen, locking her gaze on Harry’s green ones filled with growing excitement at her instant shock.

“Come on, open it, Sunflower. You precious baby, already astonished with just the parcel. And if you must know, you’re real treat is inside this.”

“I know, don’t tease me! Just feeling giddy all of a sudden!” The couple giggling continue to help each other retrieve a smaller white box inside the paper bag, Harry settling to let go of their joined hands and instead to place both of his palms on his smiling cheeks to watch in anticipation as Sophia opens the box to reveal the pear choker.

Exhaling a sigh of excited trepidation, Sophia cautiously holds the white box, slowly opening the lid with her eyes still solely focused on Harry’s face. When she had finally gotten in the open, Harry laughed at her unyielding eyes and attention still fixed on him and not her present.

“Sunflower, I know that you’re sincere when you say that my company is a present enough, but that pressie in your hands might get jelly that you think I’m more important.”

“You genuinely are more important than any material thing.”

Harry laughs, “Sunflower! Just look at it already, please, my ladylove?”

Sophia finally relents, Harry’s rather coquettish fluttering of his long eyelashes at her seems to always affect her. Eyes slowly trailing downward, Sophia has to blink her own eyes a few times in successive manner as the rare London sun seems to decide that it was the perfect moment to show itself in their autumn picnic. It's sunny beam hitting the pearls making it glisten far too brightly for her eyes.

Sophia catches on quickly after that, eyes widening even further with her cute little mouth opening in a stunned ‘o’ shape.

Harry raises his shoulders to reach his ears in an utterly adorable gesture, “Pearls for the most darling pearl of my life?”

And then Sophia cries.

Big fat tears began to slowly fall down her flushed cheeks, Harry instinctively collecting her inside his arms in a tight hug, whispering words of affection straight to her ear in a way to calm her down.

“I guess you like it then?” Harry asks when he can no longer feel any of her tears wetting the side of his neck.

“Is that even a question? Of course I bloody love it, bunny! How can I not?”

“Oh thank god, my humiliating face-first fall on the ground over thin air is not out of waste.”

“What?”

***

Sophia’s still in awe even after countless minutes of admiring the pearl choker with Harry, even when she had timidly asked the latter to clasp the pearl choker around her neck, or even after Harry had divulged the stories of his misfortune adventure of just wanting to get this present for her. Obviously, she couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous fall on the floor of his bedroom, not even shying away to say her wish of being there to see it first-hand.

Even right now, on their way back home to Harry’s flat, Sophia still can’t control her own hand from tenderly clutching the cold little pearls connecting together this beautiful and dreamy piece of jewelry. Her eyes go sideways, studying Harry’s magnificent side-profile while driving, his artisan chiseled jaw being emphasized even further from the flashing lights of the London city lights. He’s shining very brightly, Sophia thinks, not even just physically but even his aura within him seemed to be dazzling and glimmering with pure merriment.

“Hey, bunny?” Sophia calls for him quietly.

He turns his head upon her gentle request, “Yes, my Sunflower?” his left hand finding rest on her soft thigh.

Sophia can’t help the dreamy sigh that escapes her lips, “I know I’ve already expressed enough how much brightness and happiness you give me with your love. But, I don’t think I’ve ever told you straight out that you’re the best, like the best boyfriend ever because you are! Like you’re the bestest boyfriend in the world, my bunny.”

Harry Styles only wanted to be the best boyfriend on the planet when planning his girl’s special day. And yet here he is, delicately caressing the supple skin of her milky thigh where the hem of her pink satin dress had bunched-up, can’t quite believe that her now sleeping girlfriend had called him the bestest boyfriend in the world, now that’s enough retribution for everything related to that damn pearl choker.

HES - Bunny Shots

*** Stand-alone stories about Bunny and Sunflower set in no particular universe or timeline. These shots are not connected nor follow the same plot-line, unless specified.***

Happy reading, lovelies! 🌻

Grammy Bunny (post-Grammy party for the bunny.) Bunny's Love On Tour, Literally (before, during, and after Vegas.) Bunny and the Pearl Choker (the adventure of wanting to be the best boyfriend for Sunflower's 21st.) Bunny in Amalfi (Bunny just popped the question; engagement-moon shenanigans ensues.) Honey Bunny (For his every creation, one muse it behind it all. ABO au.) *ON-GOING*

"Yes please, Bunny." (Appreciation post for Bunny's Pleasing, with an addition of a curly bubby.) "Show your Bunny that you love him so-oh-oh.." (Best friends to lovers Christmas fic. featuring the best JB song of all time: Mistletoe.)

Gingerbread Bunny (When Bunny's Christmas Eve plans revolve around his two girls.)

Bunny and the Wine Nights at Gemma's (The times Gemma Styles failed to live her cupid dreams and the time she accidentally succeeded.)

Should Bunny Keep Driving? (Bunny as a McLaren F1 driver ft. yellow handbags, gelatos, and falling in love under champagne showers and Italian sunsets.)

The Bunny League (Bunny as a Mercedes F1 driver)