Harry styles Imagines (Book 1)

Santa

“Be careful, Darcy,” you smiled helping your three year old daughter hang up the last ornament on the tree. You, Harry, and Darcy were supposed to be decorating the tree together, but he was nowhere in sight.

“Mommy can I hang the star,” she squealed jumping up and down in her little footie pajamas excited that Christmas in a few hours.

“I guess so,” you sighed grabbing a chair so she could hang the star. You lifted her up and she hung the star. After that she set out her cookies and milk for Santa and she drifted off to sleep on the couch. She looked so peaceful you didn’t want to wake her. You reached for a blanket to tuck her in, when you heard a sketchy noise come from the chimney.

You cautiously stared at the chimney hoping you weren’t getting robbed, when a man in a red suit and a pillow stuffed up his shirt appeared. Immediately you knew it was Harry. You recognized those curls anywhere even under that Santa hat.

“Harry,” you whispered placing your finger over his lips to silence him. “What are you doing?”

“What are you talking about Miss,” he winked pushing your finger away from him. “I’m Santa.”

“Oh really Santa,” you grinned pushing him back slowly, so that the two of you were positioned under the mistletoe. Harry smirked when he realized what you were doing and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Have you been naughty or nice,” he smirked pulling you closer to him so that his forehead was resting against yours.

“Naughty,” you whispered crashing your lips with his kissing him hungrily. You wanted him so badly. He tried to lift your shirt up, but Darcy’s small voice startled the both of you.

“Mommy, what are you doing,” she questioned rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Why are you kissing Santa.” *GIF* You quickly pulled your shirt back down and picked up your yawning daughter cuddling her in your arms.

“Shh,” you whispered soothing the child back to sleep. As you rocked Darcy, she slowly drifted back to sleep. You winked at Santa who was heading back out the door after leaving the presents.

“Later,” you mouthed blowing a kiss to the departing Santa. You sighed happily as you watched your sleeping child as she dreamed of the upcoming Christmas morning.