#harryconcepts

[ihearthemcallingxx]

Concept/Idea #3

You can read more of my concepts here. Enjoy.

*unrevised*

I feel like Harry would be the type of dad that talks with his baby. Like, full blown conversations before they're even old enough to understand anything that he's saying.

I could imagine him walking around the house with his baby girl (I'm sorry but he's having a girl) strapped into a baby carrier that was pressed to his chest, and he'd bounce her a little, carrying out whatever it was that needed to be done around the house.

"House is a little dirty, innit bug? Gonna help me clean eh, gonna help Daddy out?" And she’d look at him with wide and curious eyes before maybe cracking a smile and giggling because daddy looked silly from down here.

"Is that a yes, gonna help me out? Thank you, baby, I very much appreciate that. Don' tell mummy I told you but you’re a better helper than she is." 

"Heard that." You call but can't help the adoring smile that grows on your face.

"And you’re better company." He adds just to hear the *exaggerated* shocked gasp that comes from you. And the baby would just kick her chubby legs and reach out and grab at Harry's face but Harry would carefully pry her little fingers away and give them a kiss, inhaling that baby scent that he'd miss too much once it went away before grinning at her, "Alright sweet girl got work to do don't we?"

 And he'd go around and clean the house with his baby girl strapped to his chest. Of course, in reality, she wouldn't be doing much to aid him - maybe some moral support - but he's encouraging and thanking her like she’s being paid for her services. But the only thing better than watching them was listening to him talk to her, "It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, did you know tha’? I thought maybe we’d go to the park tomorrow but it’s gonna be all yucky, innit. Ooh, bless you, sweetheart, sneezing already? Yeah, guess we’re gonna stay in for a snuggle day tomorrow." 

“What’re you two going on about?” you’d say as you rounded the corner, smacking Harry’s bum as you walked past. He’d jump away from you, 

"Did y’see that baby? You gonna get her back, for me?" And then he'd left the baby up out of the carrier and in front of your face, "Go on and get her bug" and you’d receive weak little fists to your face that made you scrunch up your nose and smile FUQUE

[ihearthemcallingxx]

Concept/Idea #2

*unrevised*

Sitting on Harry’s face - after much convincing - and him looking up at you with his arms wrapped around your thighs. Or maybe he’s got his eyes shut with a little crease between his eyebrows because he is so focused on pleasing you. The noises his mouth are making are sinful and he might pull away to praise you or compliment you, “ya taste so fucking good,” or, “look so pretty from down here...my gorgeous girl.”

[ihearthemcallingxx]

Concept/Idea #1

*un-revised*

You are standing at the sink, washing dishes, and singing SoTT quietly. Harry’s, watching you from the entryway, leaning up against the doorframe with a cocky but humble smirk playing at his lips, watching you with nothing but amusement and adoration in his eyes.

He’s trying to stay quiet because he knows that the moment you knew he was watching you’d stop and that was not what he wanted but he can’t help the giggle that escapes his mouth when he hears you sing the wrong lyrics.

“We don’t talk anymore, we should open up.” you sing, scrubbing your plate but you immediately still and look over your shoulder when you hear him laughing behind you. You’re a little embarrassed that he’d caught you and even more embarrassed that he started laughing but you play it off as irritation.

“Oh, fuck off,” you mumble, flipping him off before turning back to the sink with pink cheeks.

He’s trying to stop but it keeps replaying in his head and he bends at his waist, snapping his knees and squeezing his eyes shut tightly. It takes a moment for him to gain control of himself but when he does he can sense how upset you are.

“Oh c’mon, love,” he says softly walking up behind you to wrap his arms around your middle. He’s presses himself so close that you couldn’t even try and fight him off. “You sounded good.”

“I know I sound good.” you grumble and he’d chuckle again, “...why were you laughing?”

“Cos you were singing the wrong words.”

And you’d crane your neck to look at him, “I was NOT!”

That would only make him laugh because who were you to tell him that? “Baby, it’s my song. I wrote it. I know the lyrics and those were not it.”

“Then what are they smartass, eh? Since you’re the lyricist, what're the correct words.” 

And he’d clasp his hands together over your tummy and rest his chin on your shoulder being sure his mouth was close enough to your ear so you’d hear him whisper softly, “We don’t talk enough,” he’d emphasize where you had the words mistaken. Then he starts singing it to you all raspy and smooth while swaying gently, kissing the shell of your ear ever so often.

Ugh, what have I done to myself?