Harry Styles x Reader

Introduction

"You have three seconds to pack your bags and git out!" Your mom yells.
"What do you mean? Where am I going to live?" You ask.
"I sold you for drug money. You don't get how hard it is to have a disappointment as a daughter AND no money." Your mom shakes her head and starts to walk out of your ugly room. It's painted poop-green and has rat droppings all over the floor.
"What's their name? Can I know at least that?" You ask, desperate for a smidge of information about your new parent.
"Harry Miles I think? I'm so high right now I can't remember what my own name is."
Wait...could this be? Harry Styles? You start to think of why Harry Styles would even want a girl like you. You didn't even pass fifth grade, why would a hunk like him want you? He's almost as hot as Shrek, it just doesn't make any sense.

*ding dong*
The doorbell rings and your mom tells you to go answer it. You're so excited to see who the mystery man is—too excited. As you sprint down the stairs you trip on your gargantuan boobz and go toppling down three flights of stairs because even though you're poor you still have a three story house for some reason. You get a concussion from the fall and faint shortly after. When you wake up, you're in the arms of none other than Shrek.
"OMG SHREK!! I can't believe it's actually you! I'm so happy right now I almost forgot my mom was selling me for drugs."
"Wut luv?"
Wait a minute
That's not Shrek's accent.
"Are you sure she's not shtewpid?" Harry asks your mom.
As your vision starts to focus, you realize it's not Shrek, but merely Harry Styles.
"Oh...I thought you were someone else" you say, disappointment washing over you.
"Ello luv, I'm your new owner ye. Get in the car we're going to my mansion." Harry says.
You wave goodbye to your mom as she sniffs $1,000 and rubs it on her face. Harry opens the door to his mega-hunk Ferrari for you and you get in. The car smells like stank feet and old cheese but you don't want to be rude so you don't say anything.
"What do you do for fun?" Harry asks, breaking the awkward silence.
"Well, I'm not really like your average girl. You know, taking showers and brushing teeth and stuff. I eat pizza for every meal and play video games with my mom's drug dealer." You say, excited to tell Hunky Harry how quirky you are.
"Oh wow I've never heard of girls eating pizza and playing video games. As for you not taking showers, now I know why my car smells like a dead body," Harry jokes.
"How do you know what a dead body smells like?" You ask.
"Yes." Harry answers. You may be dumb and stupid but you're not stupid and dumb. You know when to drop a certain topic.
As you arrive to his mega mansion you're taken aback by how poor you actually were. He has a whole roof on his house? You knew he was rich but not "Rob Mr. Rich's Mansion Obby" rich.
"I'll get your bags, go on in and find a room you'd like to be yours." Harry says.
You smile then head inside the mega mansion. You check out everything on the first floor before heading upstairs. Everything was so shiny and clean, why did he want a nasty smelly greasy ugly smelly nasty greasy girl like you? As you hop up the stairs your elephant-sized boobz keep smacking you in your face, blinding your vision. You almost fall backwards but your bootylicious dump truck saves you. It's fifty feet wide and three feet tall, you hope Harry hasn't noticed it.
"Have you found your room yet?" Harry yells through the mega mansion.
"Yeah, I'll take the one with the really wide door," You say. You don't want Harry to be suspicious of the load you carry behind you.
"Why such a wide door? It's sixty feet wide," Harry asks, suspicious of you.
"Uhm...no reason. I just like big doors is all, they have a vintage feel to them," you say.
"If you say so. I've got your bags so you can unpack." He sets them down at your feet and only then do you notice HIS feet. What are they, like a foot and a half long?
"You know what they say, big feet big m-" you start to say, realizing exactly what you've done.
"Excuse me luv?" Harry asks, genuinely confused.
You're utterly mortified by the fact you said it out loud. Maybe he doesn't know what it means. Maybe he doesn't know you were looking directly at his feet while saying it.
"Oh it's just a saying drug dealers have. Big feet big money, heh," you nervously laugh. That doesn't make any sense but he just might buy it.
"Stream yummy," Harry says, walking away.
That went better than expected. If he found out you knew about the gigantic package he was carrying, your relationship could be weird. As the day comes to an end, you finish unpacking and head to bed.