warnings: like 0.000000001 of a sexual hint, tooth rotting fluff at the end, very cliche
a/n: i hate this but also i love it, so sorry if it sucks 😭
“Ready, angel?” You cooed to you and Harry’s 3 year old daughter, Rosie, closing up the final snap on her little gucci jacket. She nodded strongly, her little brown curls bouncing as she did. She was definitely her father’s daughter. Grabbing her bag, she ran off for the door where Anne was waiting, taking her for the weekend to give you and Harry some time to be with each other.
“You’re a lifesaver, Anne, really,” You gushed, walking over to meet her at the door.
“No, no! I love spending time with her, really,” She said, picking Rosie up into her arms, “We always have fun, don’t we bug?”
“Will Dotty be there?”
“Oh, of course!” Anne gushed, encouraging your daughters enthusiasm for her cats. Just then, Harry jogged down the steps behind you, arriving at the door to see them off.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said breathlessly, “had a call”
“This boy,” Anne scoffed, “hopefully this weekend you’ll actually do something other than work!”
“We plan on it,” Harry said, giving you a rather mischievous side eye. You elbowed him lightly and turned your attention back to Anne.
“Well, we won’t keep you,” you said, “have the best time! thank you again!”
“Again, no problem at all,” Anne chimed, “take care, lots of love!” You followed them to the door, giving a final wave.
Just as you gave your daughter a kiss goodbye and closed the door behind the pair, you felt weight behind you. Flipping around, Harry’s eyes met yours as you wrapped your arms around his waist.
“Still have moments where I’m like ‘Oh my god, we have a kid’” You muttered into his t-shirt.
“I know, m’love,” he affirmed, “she’s so perfect.”
“I know where she gets it,” you spoke, giving him a small kiss.
“What a line!” Harry said enthusiastically.
You rolled your eyes at his act, cuddling back into his frame.
As much as you loved your little girl, you couldn’t wait to see her grow into the wonderful person you and Harry knew she’d be.
I got bored on photo grid last night and decided to explore all the ways you can edit and design pictures and collages. Also it was really nice to see my boys from E3 again after 7 years! 🥰🥰
You never wanted tattoos. Like, ever. Sometimes though, it takes the right person to change our minds.
A/N: Just imagine that cherry is abt y/n in this one and not anyone else, bc otherwise that’d be awkward 🤭🍒 okayyyy enjoy !
Back in college, tattoos were the thing to have. Whether you got them in secret, or your parents were actually cool enough to sign the waiver, if you one, you were practically famous. They never caught your eye, though. Even after you met Harry, his 52 and counting never swayed you to go and get one. It was all too overwhelming, and you were far too indecisive. Until today.
You had booked the appointment a few weeks ago and had kept it a secret from Harry, which was really rather easy since he was always caught up in his own meetings and work. Even though you felt slightly guilty for keeping something from him, you were more excited to show him the end result.
“Y/n?” He called, arriving home for the day and hanging his “Pleasing” tote on the hook by the door.
“In here!” you shouted back from the living room. You sat back on the sofa, leg bouncing from anticipation. Harry swiftly came into the room, running a hand over your hair and landing a kiss on top of your head. He hung his arms around your neck, turned his gaze toward you. You shot him a hinting smirk.
“What? What is that look?” He asked, pulling his head back to get a better look at the sheer delight on your face. You stood up, walking round the back of the couch now. You stood to face him dead on, taking one of his ring-clad hands in yours.
“Okay, so, just know that I did this for you,” you began, rolling up your left blouse sleeve, “and myself of course but you know, inspiration and all that.”
You cuff lifted over your inner-elbow, revealing a tiny, coloured-in cherry tattoo just above it.
“Ha!” You said, motioning your arm toward him. He brushed a thumb over it, still red from the needle.
“Wow,” he sighed out, looking up to you, “This is like, really special, y/n”
“You like it?”
“Love it,” he said. He took your hand in his once again, wrapping your arm around his neck. He leant in, kissing the small fruit on your inner arm.
“Just don’t end up like me,” He warned, walking the two of you toward your kitchen, “Y’know, there’s no going back now,”
“No promises,” you teased, leaning into him.
If anyone could have a bad influence on you, you were glad it was him.