I haven’t written anything in 38,000 years (and you can tell because this is :/, and I really need to start practicing writing short stories again instead of plays, BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT). I think the last time I posted something was Christmas last year. I couldn’t go without posting my annual Christmas Harry one shot, imagine, ficlet, whatever you wanna call it. So here it is, something short, sweet, and to the point! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!- Kaylin
It’s calm.
That is the first thing to come to mind as you stand alone in gentle glow of the meticulously decorated Christmas tree in the living room of your parents’ house. You stand with your arms wrapped around yourself, taking in its glory. The mix of nutmeg and fresh pine lingers lightly in the air throughout the house. It’s calm. You sigh a breath of relief, even daring to smile, because you did it. You survived Christmas Eve for another year, you both had.
And the calm stillness of the night settling over the dark house is almost foreign in comparison to the scenes that’d played out earlier in the day, before everyone retired into their separate corners and eventually to bed.
But there you are, alone, drowning in the familiarity of Christmas as a feeling, an emotion. It leaves you feeling overwhelming content, as if everything in the year, no matter how big or small, doesn’t matter over the next few days. It’s the promise of unconditional love and warmth, followed by the promise of a new year, a chance to redo it all. Hopefully, this time you’ll get it right.
Suddenly, you’re no longer alone. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you securely and safely and warmly against him. “It’s a little after midnight. Merry Christmas,” Harry murmurs in your ear and kisses your jaw as he sways you a bit.
“Merry Christmas,” You say with a smile that grows helplessly wider, because how couldn’t it? It’s perfect. He’s perfect. Everything’s perfect. “Are my cousins asleep?”
“Mhmm. It took a lot of reassuring that my good friend Santa would only come if they went to bed.” Harry rests his chin on your shoulder. “Your mum did a great job with the tree.”
“You know that’s her job. She’d probably kill us if anyone else touched it,” You chuckle.
“She’d let me touch it,” He says with so much certainty it makes you laugh.
Lovingly, you rub his arm as you continue to look at the tree your mom is so proud of year after year. “Yeah, what makes you so sure?” You ask.
“When you all left us here to go to the store, she let me help her with it,” You feel Harry shrug.
“What?” You whip around his arms to face a pajama clad Harry, and by his expression, you can tell it’s exactly the reaction he’s hoping for. “She let you help her?”
“Yes,” Harry laughs, his cheeks dimpling with ease. He turns you back around again to face the tree. “See, look. That ornament right there. She let me put that one up. She even said I did a good job.”
You turn to face him again in joking disbelief. “Those are bragging rights, Harry Styles. None of my other boyfriends were even allowed in the living room when she was putting up the tree. I think the hair cut did it,” You tease him, combing your fingers through his short hair. The long hair was a head turner and a conversation starter last Christmas, but as always, Harry was a good sport about it .
“Shut up,” Harry laughs as he swats your hand away. “Do you bring home every guy you meet?” He teases, raising a brow. You chuckle as you lean into him and rest your head on his chest. You let out a sigh, your eyes drifting shut.
“Doesn’t everyone? I saw this guy standing by the bus stop once, so I brought him home to Christmas dinner. His name was Alex, or was it John? Oh, well.” You say with a shrug, tilting your head back again to look at him.
“So I’m just some straggler you brought home along the way, huh?”
“Guilty, but you’ve come home with me for Christmas two years in a row now. That should count for something if you think about it, Henry?” You smile innocently.
“Oh, I’m sure,” Harry says, calling you by the wrong name. “Not so fun, is it?” He says as you roll your eyes.
“No, it isn’t, Hank.”
“Hank?!” Harry laughs genuine and loud, surprisingly high for his low register. His face lights up, head falling back with his eyes shut tight. And like always, it warms your heart to see him like this, at peace and relaxed without a care in the world.
Giggling yourself, you cover his mouth with both of your hands, trying to shush him as quietly as possible. “Harry,” You say warningly, pleading for him to be quieter. Cautiously, you lower your hands once he settles a bit.
“Sorry,” Harry mouths with a cute, apologetic smile. “Should we get started?” He asks nodding towards the fireplace. His hand travels down your arm, his fingers enlacing with yours.
“I mean, are you up for the task?” You ask, trying to pull a serious face as you drag him over to the fireplace
“It won’t be easy, but it’s for an important and worthy cause,” He nods with determination, playing along. “All good?”
“All good?”
“Break,” Harry says, sealing it with a kiss before letting go of your hand and disappearing into the kitchen.
You go over to pick up the glass of milk and the platter of chocolate chip cookies you’d both helped the kids bake for Santa earlier in the day. Harry was covered in flour, recounting his days as a baker back in Holmes Chapel. When you rolled your eyes, he protested that he was, in fact, a baker.
“I’ve got it!” He resurfaces, raising the pen and paper in victory. He plops down soundlessly onto the couch.
After you place the glass on the table, you join him, careful so that none of the cookies slide off of the plate and onto the floor. He drapes your legs across his lap, rubbing along your thigh. It was the job the two of you’d been given just like the year before it. Eat the cookies, drink the milk, write a letter back from Santa, and put the presents under the tree.
Harry picks up a cookie, tapping it against yours. “Cheers,” He says playfully before taking a bite. “Pretty damn good, if I do say so myself.”
“Shut up,” You laugh after swallowing. “Get to writing, Santa,” You order.
“Yes, ma’am.” Harry winks at you. He uses your legs as a table, getting to it. As he writes, he hums to himself and it eventually turns into soft singing. Mindlessly, you tap your foot along until he places a hand on your leg, nonverbally asking you to stop.
“Sorry, babe,” You apologize, eating another cookie. You offer him one, and he takes it gladly.
“How does this sound?” Harry asks with a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie, holding up the piece of paper. He swallows and clears his throat, putting on his best Santa accent.
“You’re a mess.” You laugh once he finishes.
“But you love me,” He says plainly without a doubt in his mind.
“I do love you,” You lean over, giving him a kiss. When you go to pull away, his hand is on the side of your face. “You have a little chocolate on your lip,” Harry grins, pointing to his own lip with his other hand as he leans in again.
“Yeah?” You smile, letting him move closer.
“Yeah,” His voice gets softer the closer he gets until his lips are on yours again. It’s soft, with the sweetest intensity. Just like Harry. It’s slow, in a dangerous way. It’s the type of kiss that leaves you always wanting more, and when it comes to Harry, you can never get enough. He lays the trap and you fall into it every single time.
“No, we have to finish up here first,” You mumble against his lips, doing nothing to end the kiss.
“Fine,” He says, taking his time to pull away.
You sit up, moving your legs from his lap. “Do you want another cookie?” You lean over and grab the glass of milk from the table, taking a sip for your little cousins’ sake.
He shakes his head, “I’m good. Thank you,” He says, focusing on folding the letter neatly before handing it to you. You get up from the sofa and walk over to the fireplace, putting the near empty platter back in its rightful place along with the glass. Next to it, you put “Santa’s” letter next to it.
“Let’s find those presents and put them under the tree,” You turn back to him with a tired smile.
***
“Look who’s alive,” Your cousin teases as soon as you walk into the living room. The rest of your family, Harry included, is all gathered around the tree in their pajamas. Natural morning light floods the room, casting an inviting subtle glow.
“Merry Christmas to you too,” You chuckle sleepily, rubbing your eyes and walking deeper into the room. One of the little ones run up to you, tugging at your pajamas pants and calling your name excitedly. She waves the letter with a wide, adorable gap toothed grin.
“Look,” She hands you the paper. “Santa wrote back, but he spelled favorite wrong. There’s no ‘u’ in favorite. I know, because Ms. McGowan taught us. It’s f-a-v-o-r-i-t-e,” She giggles as if it’s the funniest thing in the world. You glance up at Harry, trying not to laugh.
“Did he, sweetheart?” You chuckle, giving her back the letter that clearly made her day.
Defensively, Harry swoops her up in his arms, holding her on his hip. She gladly wraps her little arms around his neck. They’d been best friends ever since the two met each other in the previous year. She first heard his accent, and she’d been attached to his hip ever since. The fascination with the “doodles” on his arms followed shortly after.
“Maybe Santa found a cool way to spell it, yeah?” He smiles at her and holds up his hand for a high five.
“Yeah,” She smiles, accepting what he says as she slaps her tiny hand against his.
“Hey, sweetie, do you mind grabbing my hot chocolate out of the kitchen?” Your mom asks out of the blue.
You frown a little, considering she easily could’ve gone into the kitchen herself. “Yes, ma’am,” You nod anyway, going into the kitchen. Amongst the trays of food and the bottles of wine crowding the counters, there’s not a mug in sight. For the hell of it, you check the fridge just to be sure, but once again, you end up empty handed.
“Mom, are you sure you left it in-“ Your words trail off as you walk back into the living room. It’s quiet. The music has stopped. The collective chatter has gone silent. Your family stands around with suspicious, beaming smiles on their faces. Naturally, you narrow your eyes at all of them.
“Is everything okay?” You chuckle with uncertainty. You can feel it, the energy in the air suddenly shifting into an electric charge. Something’s about to happen, and you can sense it.
“Santa wrote another letter,” The little one runs up to you again, waving another letter around proudly for you.
Confused, you glance over at Harry. “Did Santa really?” You ask as you take it, unfolding it. Sure enough, it’s in Harry’s handwriting, and you can’t help but to wonder when he took the time to write it:
Dear Y/N,
This is Santa speaking. I am writing to you, because I want to help my good friend Harry. You see, he was on the nice list this year, and he only wants one gift. When he told me what it was, I admit, I thought it was a pretty big job even for me. But nothing’s impossible if you put your heart into it, and that’s what Harry wants to give you, his heart. Forever. He wants you to know that he wants your heart too. He promises to take care of it and protect it for the rest of his life if you give him the chance. It’ll take a lifetime for him to prove exactly just how much he loves you, so much so, he can’t imagine going another day without you. You get the point? I’ll let Harry take it from here.
-Santa
With a bit of caution, you lower the paper to see Harry standing in front of you now. Before you get the chance to say anything, he starts to speak. “I love being your boyfriend so much, but honestly, love, I think it’d be pretty cool to be your husband,” He says, taking your left hand in his. Your family laughs, but it sounds so far away. Everything’s happening at once. Your mind and your heart are racing a millions miles a second. ‘Is this happening, is this really happening?’ are the only words you can only seem to think of, but they never reach your lips.
And Harry finally starts to make his way down to one knee with the little black velvet box in hand, the one you hadn’t even noticed at first. You finally find the words to speak. “Oh my god,” You gasp, tears streaming down your face before you can even register them.
With the eyes of your entire family on the two of you, Harry looks up with hope in his eyes and on his lips. He calls you by your full name slowly, and if you’re not mistaken he sounds nervous for a boy who’s usually so cool, calm, and collected. He fumbles as he pops the box open, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever laid eyes on. “Will you marry me?” He says the four words that’ll change your lives forever.
“Yes, oh my god. Yes!” You blurt the words out faster than you realize. Your family cheers as Harry slides the ring onto that finger, and you cry harder because there’s not man you’d rather spend the rest of your life with than Harry Edward Styles.
-
HOPE YOU LIKED IT! LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK. HERE’S A LINK TO OTHER THINGS I’VE WRITTEN.
On This Night and In This Light, I Think I’m Falling, I’m Falling for You
Note: Contains sexual themes. This was written a while back for a friend and I decided to post it, so if you like the 1975, yay! If not, I'm sorry. Requests are open!
**Fallingforyou by The 1975
It was all entirely by accident that Harry found out. He’d arrived early to your apartment that day, and while you continued to get ready for the third or fourth date he had planned, you allowed him into your apartment for the first time. You directed him to the living room, telling him to make himself at home, and that you’d be right out. What you weren't expecting was for him to venture throughout your apartment and for him to overhear you singing earnestly along to The City by The 1975. You brushed out your hair, occasionally pausing and using the brush as a makeshift microphone. Your eyes were shut as you rocked side to side; pouring every ounce of passion you had into the lyrics. So much so, you didn't even notice Harry standing there.
He watched you with a benevolent amusement. A small, fond smile graced his face, and though he would've loved to let you continue your little performance, the English boybander that you’d taken a genuine liking to just couldn't help himself.
“I didn't know you liked the 1975.” His voice startled you. A spooked ‘Oh my God’ involuntarily fell from your mouth as you turned to Harry with one hand over your rapidly beating heart. ‘M sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you.”
“It’s fine.” You reassured him, despite your initial embarrassment. You grabbed your phone, turned off the music and threw the device into your purse. You were practically ready for the date before the song came on, but once it was on, you didn't pass up the opportunity to listen to it. “Yeah, I like them.” You slung your bag over your shoulder with a shrug.
You guys were in the beginning stages, when each bit of information you received on each other was new and exciting. You so desperately would take in anything Harry would share with you, from what his favorite color was or what was his favorite season , right down to his favorite memories as a child to what it was like for him once his parents divorced. All because you were honestly interested in him, for hours on hours you could just listen to him talk about himself, and you’d never get bored or tired. And the same sentiment Harry felt towards you. Him finding out that you liked the 1975 was just another casualty of getting to know each other, a simple fact that only needed to be remembered if the question ever arose. But the way Harry was looking down at you, you could tell there was something churning in that head of his.
“What?” You shared his infectious smile.
“Well, the 1975 is going to be in town in a couple of days. Do you wanna see them?”
It was sweet of him to offer, but you shook your head. “I’d love to, but that concert has been sold out for months.” Honestly, the fact made you a little sad.
“Alright,” He said, and turned away from your bedroom door. You could’ve sworn you heard him say ‘We’ll see’ under his breath.
You couldn't believe that it was actually happening.
One moment you were moping around, silently wishing you were going to the concert taking place later in the night, and in the next, Harry was calling to tell you to get dressed because you weren't only going to the concert, but you were meeting the 1975.
And before you knew it, you were walking hand in hand with Harry down the hidden quarters of the venue. The slight tremble your hands took on was inevitable, just like how hard and fast your heart was beating in your chest. On stage, there was a band you’d never heard of already performing. The bass vibrating off of the walls only built on to your excitement and anxiety.
“I’m so nervous.” You whispered with a laugh that resembled the statement.
Lightly, his thumb swept across the back of your hand. He turned his attention to you and gave you a reassuring smile, “Don’t be.” You returned with a tight lipped grinned and a swift kiss, hoping that it’d somehow ease the nerves. Harry redirected his focus in front of him. “There he is,” With his free hand, he lazily pointed to the man just feet in front of them.
“Matthew!” Harry called out playfully. The other man looked over at you guys, and immediately smiled with a cigarette dangling carefully from his lips. You gasped. On the way there, you told yourself time and time again that you wouldn't cry, but in the moment, it was becoming harder and harder to hold back the overwhelming feeling of tears.
“Harold!” He laughed and pulled the cigarette away between his index and middle fingers, approaching the two of you with arms wide open. You felt almost lightheaded when he embraced you both in a hug. Matty, Matty Healy was hugging you. Don’t freak out, You reminded yourself, but the little pep talk you gave yourself earlier in the day was quickly being abandoned. He pulled away from the two of you, “So glad you could make it,” He said genuinely. He then directed his attention to you. You felt like you were going to die. “An’ who’s this?”
Somehow, words failed you, and the only language you’d spoken your entire life had suddenly been forgotten. Harry quickly filled in the gap for you. “This is my girlfriend. She’s a massive fan.” You immediately looked over at the boy whose hand you were still holding. It was the first time he’d ever referred to you as his girlfriend since the two of you’d been seeing each other, and the word alone was sobering enough.
“It’s a pleasure, darling.” Matty stuck out his right hand.
You slipped your hand in his, making a mental note and a conscious effort to control your shaking. “The pleasure’s all mine.”
One by one, George, Adam, and Ross began to appear, and you hadn't even realized the music from the opener had ended, signaling it was almost time for the 1975 to take stage. “That’s my cue. I’ll catch you guys after the show.” He patted Harry on the arm and turned to join the rest of the band.
Once the area was completely clear of Matty Healy, you turned towards Harry and buried your face in his shoulder. You let out a continuous stream of ‘oh my God’s, and the feeling of the experience came crashing down on you. Harry wrapped his arms around you and gently rubbed your back. You could feel him smiling as he gently rocked you sided to side. You lifted your head and looked up at him.
“Aw, you really are crying.” He chuckled and used his thumbs to wipe away the tears that’d managed to escape.
“How dare you make me cry like that-your girlfriend?”
“Believe me, I don’t think I had anything to do with making yes you, my girlfriend, cry. Now come on, we’re going to miss the show.” Harry looped one arm around your shoulder, and together the two of you walked to where the cheering ensued. As much as you would've loved to be mixed in with the crowd and feeding off of their energy, you were perfectly okay with watching the concert from the balcony for Harry’s safety. Matter of fact, you were expecting it, but when a security guard greeted and ushered you off towards the first or second row, you couldn't help but wonder how he managed to pull it off.
“Congratulations on your baby,” Harry spoke loudly as the two of you followed him into the crowd. Of course. You didn't know how Harry knew, but it didn't surprise you in the slightest. He was the most genuine person you’d ever met. The man nodded his head and offered a polite smile as he finally came to a stop at the place in the front that’d been secured for you and your boyfriend. The security guard then maneuvered his way out of the distressed fans. So far, no one bothered you. Not once did anyone ask Harry for an autograph or a picture. It was almost unreal. It was then that you realized that it wasn't that they didn't notice, you were sure they did, but in the moments just before the 1975, the reason they were all here packed together, took the stage, they didn't care about anything else.
Harry stood behind you, his arms settling comfortably around your shoulders as he held you close. In awe, your eyes scanned around the room. All around, people had their phones drawn, ready to capture the moment when the music would start and the memories would begin to be made. Even then, it was beautiful. Not just being there in the moment with them, but being in the moment itself. Faintly music played in the background, and the lights were dimming so slowly that you weren't entirely sure if they were actually dimming at all. It was ethereal.
“I’m so excited.” You glanced back at him and redirected your attention to the stage once again. Gently, you could feel him place a kiss on top of your head. The set was teetering between light and darkness as the final source of light finally gave way. The crowds chatter dispersed and erupted into cheers. Out of nowhere, white strobe lights began to flicker as the sound of saxophone washed over the room. Smoothly, the chords progressed and the tempo changed into The City as other instruments chimed in.
“Don’t call it a fight when you know it’s a war,” Matty sang into the mic, causing the crowd to go absolutely wild, yourself included. You hadn't even noticed that Harry had let his arms fall to his side so that you could completely enjoy and lose yourself in the moment.
And you did just that. You held on to every single second of the concert, afraid that you’d miss something. You watched as Matty danced almost drunkenly across the stage with his classic bottle of wine in hand. With each and every song, his shirt seemed to fit looser and looser around him until it finally barely hung on his frame. Occasionally, he’d stop to talk to the crowd and eagerly they drank up his every word.
He spotted you and Harry in the crowd; he crouched down on the stage just in front of you, “Are you enjoying the show?” He spoke lowly into the microphone. Excitedly, you nodded, knowing your voice wouldn't carry over the screams. “Good, I’m glad.” He stood upright and walked to the opposite side. “This song is for the lovebirds.”
Fallingforyou started to play and a sudden sense of calmness fell over the crowd. You leaned back against the boy you could never seem to get enough of, smiling as your head fell into the crook of Harry’s neck. His arms wrapped around your waist once again, causing both of you to gently sway to the slow, drawn out beat. You could feel him move his face down slightly, his breath tickled your skin. An inaudible gasp fell from you at the new sensation of Harry’s full lips planting a single kiss along the base of your throat. It was something that he’d never done before, and the feeling caused chill bumps to rise on your skin.
I’ll take you one day at a time, soon you will be mine. Oh, but I want you now.
You tilted your face slightly up to his. Your eyes looked almost lovingly across his face. He leaned forward, capturing your mouth in a kiss. You sighed into it, happier than you’d been in a long time. Right then with Harry, there was no place you’d rather be. He pulled away, but you quickly re-closed the gap between you, proving that you weren't done kissing him. He smiled against your lips.
“Thank you for tonight,” You whispered intimately. Your hands settled on top of his, and gently you rubbed the skin with your thumb.
“You’re quite welcome,” Harry’s voice was equally as quiet. He looked as if he just wanted to keep kissing you right then and there, but he knew how badly you wanted to come to the concert even though you tried playing it cool, so what good would it do if he just preoccupied your time when the band was on stage? You smiled sincerely and turned your attention back to Matty Healy on the stage.
“Oh my God, relationship goals,” You heard the girl bubbling beside you. Out of curiosity, you looked over at her, just to see if she was talking about you and Harry. When your eyes met hers, it became evident that she was. The polite smile that she held on her face fell and was replaced with realization. “You’re-…and that means-“ She looked up at the man who’s arms you were still encased in. He just so happened to look down at the girl as well. “Harry Styles,” Her voice faltered. Before he could say anything to her, the teenager’s legs gave beneath her, her eyes shut. Luckily, the person standing behind her was able to catch her unconscious body before it hit the floor. Harry being Harry, removed himself from behind you and went to see if the girl was okay. Carefully, he guided her over to the guard standing on the other side of the barricade where they took her.
“That was crazy,” You said, but Harry looked completely unfazed by the ordeal, as if this was something he dealt with regularly. Sometimes you honestly forgot just who he was. To you, he was just Harry, but you were quickly reminded that he was in fact Harry Styles whenever paparazzi tried to snap pictures of you or when fans would approach him. He just had a way of making you feel so normal despite how extraordinary his life was.
After that, the concert passed by in a blur. You both danced and sang down until the very last song. And when the lights came up, everything was a bit hazy. The room appeared clouded, but you didn't have the time to marvel at what just occurred. Harry’s hand found yours, his fingers entwining with yours securely. With you with him, he hurried through the side in hopes to go undetected. The security guard who you still didn't know the name of guided the two of you backstage. There, you were able to see Matty fresh from his performance, and this time, you were able to have a more human conversation with him. Undoubtedly, you were still screaming internally, but it was just easier to mask this time around. Even then, the conversations proved to be short. Before you knew it, you and Harry made plans to hang out with Matty the next day since the 1975 had the day off to rest and explore the city. And with that, you both left the venue, the adrenaline from the concert still buzzing through you.
But this is how your dates usually ended. He’d walk you to your apartment door, you’d share a kiss or two, he’d wish you a goodnight, and he’d be on his merry way. But tonight was different. It started with the car ride, and how you seemingly couldn't keep your hands off of Harry. From letting your fingers glide gingerly against the back of his hand, to removing his hand that rested along the center console as he drove and pressing little kisses on the tips of his fingers, to the very glances the two of you exchanged. And when you shared your customary kiss just outside your apartment door, Harry’s hand rested dangerously in the small of your back. The way he pulled you to him and held you close.
“What was that about at the concert?” You broke the kiss, referring to when he kissed your neck during Fallingforyou.
“What was what about?” He replied plainly, your face still just inches from his.
Your hands slid down the place on his shoulders, down his arms until both of your hands took his. You knew that he knew exactly what you were talking about. “The thing you did, Harry.”
“What thing?”
You gave him an incredulous look, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. He mimicked you. You pulled him closer to you, letting your mouth hover slightly over his. “This thing,” You whispered. You pressed drawn out kisses to the corner of his lips, down his jaw and along his neck. You could hear the shift in Harry’s breathing, and it took everything within you not to laugh when he cleared his throat to otherwise mask the noise he would've made. So, you allowed your lips to linger at the base of his neck before you looked back up at him.
Harry’s green eyes darted between yours, giving you a look you’d never seen before. It was something much more intimate than the usual amusement. “That wasn't quite the thing,” He said matter of fact.
You let out a laugh, “Oh, so you know exactly what I’m talking about. Show me then.” Your voice was underlined with a challenge. His large hands settled on your waist as he gently pushed you against the door, his body pressed against yours in a way it had never been before. Wasting no time, he dipped his face into the curve of your neck. His nose nuzzling you as he selectively dropped kisses along your skin. Your heart was fluttering in your chest, and it nearly skipped a beat once you felt him nipping softly at the skin. Your eyes helplessly shut, and your mouth hung slightly open with a smirk on your lips. Before you could come up with a witty reply, his lips recovered to yours. Your lips parted, immediately tasting him once his tongue slid into your mouth. He pressed harder against you, trapping you between the door and his body, your hand desperately tangling a fistful of his growing hair. You were, without a shadow of a doubt, attracted to Harry, right from the moment when your first met him, and all of the sexual tension that you mutually felt but wasn't entirely sure how or when to act upon had finally overflowed all at once. His hands pulled your hips forward closer to him.
“Harry.” You stammered once the opportunity arose for you to properly catch your breath. Lazily, your eyes fluttered open.
His eyes were still shut. “I- uh I’m sorry,” He shook his head, “I didn't-uh I should probably go,” His voice was quiet with something that resembled regret, yet the way his hands continued to grip you suggested something completely different. You watched him through hooded eyes. Your right hand settled gently on the side of his face, your fingers slid along his clenched jaw. Lovingly, you let them trace the makings of his hairline until they finally tucked a curl behind his ear.
“Look at me,” He allowed his green eyes to meet yours. “I want you to stay,” Your voice matched his in softness as your words dripped in a near silent plea, but it was true. You needed Harry. You needed to be with him in that way, to lose and completely surround yourself in him, to feel him in every sense of the word. “I want you.”
And confirmation was all it took.
His lips crashed into yours and you meet him with the same amount of passion, both meeting and resisting. You were both desperate in your actions. Pushing and pulling, the way neither of you could settle on where to place your hands, but it didn't matter as long as you were touching, whether his hand held the side of your neck and somehow grasped your waist, to your fingers lightly scraping the back of his neck and sliding down his partially revealed chest.
“Inside,” You dazedly whispered, eyes shut tight and your head leaning back against the door of your apartment as Harry’s lips pressed the corner of your mouth down a narrow path to your neck. Yes, inside. Harry had never heard of a better idea. Inside, under your dress, inside of you. Almost eagerly, his long fingers slipped underneath the black fabric, lightly brushing against your inner, upper thigh. Quickly, you caught him by the hand before you gave into him right there in the middle of hallway, but not without an involuntary, vocal response to his touch.
Harry immediately stopped kissing your neck and looked up at you. “What?” He sounded genuinely confused.
You raised your brows at him, trying your hardest to suppress a laugh. “I meant inside of my apartment.”
Realization came over his face “Oh…right.” He smiled innocently at you despite the nature of the situation. You rolled your eyes and turned your back towards him. He hardly allowed you any space to do so. You licked your lips and tucked a few strands of your own hair behind your ear. A little, excited smile came across your face, and you were glad he couldn't see it as you reached into your bag and slipped your key into the lock. You didn't realize how badly you wanted this to happen until it was finally happening. You could feel Harry’s breath against your skin, his lips pressing against the top of your spine. Your fingers wrapped around the knob despite you growing weaker and weaker from Harry’s touch, and you finally pushed it open. You both stumbled in, Harry kicking the door shut and reaching back to lock it. This was it. You two were alone, and all bets were off.
Without hesitation, Harry stepped forward towards you, immediately picking up where he left off. His movements no longer resembled the sweet, passive Harry you’d come to learn. He was hurried, desperate. His mouth moved feverishly against yours as your fingers steadily undid the few buttons that were actually done on his shirt. You pushed the sleeves down his arms and let your fingers settle along the newly exposed inked skin. Somewhere in the process, Harry managed to unzip the back of your black dress. And though the fabric loosened some and you pulled your arms free from the sleeves to the point the top of your black bra was exposed, the fabric still clung to your hips. Harry brought you up in his arms, your legs hooking around his waist, arms around his neck, and he walked you, with a stumble in his step, to your bedroom just around the corner. Along the way, you managed to lose your shoes. He sat you down on the corner of your neatly made bed. You waited almost impatiently as Harry fumbled with the loop of his belt and the button of his dark jeans, pulling the zipper down as well. Eagerly, you tugged at his pants until they’d fallen around his ankles. Teasingly, you leaned forward, pressing a kiss against his torso before laying back, your arms folded behind your head as you looked up at him with a small, inviting smile. Harry couldn't help but laugh as he leaned forward and clinched a handful of the dress he never finished removing. You wiggled and arched your body in order for Harry to completely take it off with ease. He then climbed over you, and you opened your legs a little wider, allowing his body to settle between them. Your noses bumped gently as your mouths moved in sync, his tongue against yours. You could feel his fingers moving somewhere near your inner thigh, but still, nothing prepared you for the feeling of his fingers slipping into your underwear where you were most sensitive. A near inaudible gasp caught in your throat, but Harry paid no attention to it. His mouth departed from yours and began to suck slightly at the skin of your neck, without a doubt leaving a bruise there. Your head was thrown back into the mattress, your hands fastened to his shoulders as his fingers were busy moving in a circular motion between your thighs. He’d change patterns, going fast in one instance and moving terribly slow in the other, driving you even crazier.
“Oh my- oh my god.” A breathy sigh left your lungs. You were completely underneath Harry’s control. You melted into his touch, making yourself his.
“Lean up.” He whispered in your ear and you did slightly. His free hand palmed your back as he blindly searched for the clasp of your bra. Impressively, he unsnapped it singlehandedly, and eagerly you tossed it to the side. Your fingers gripped the bed and you laid back again as his fingers continued to work on you.
“Harry,” His name came across your lips like a little warning. He was so close to taking you over the edge. All of a sudden, he stopped. You whined in protest as you opened your eyes and looked at him pleadingly. He grinned at you and pecked your mouth.
“I've just realized I don’t have a condom.” There was a hint of an apology in his voice. Your hand slid down from his shoulder to his chest and gently you patted it. You slipped from underneath him and made your way into your bathroom. You switched on the light and immediately crouched down and started rummaging through the cabinets. It’d been a while, sure, but you knew you had them somewhere. You tapped around until you felt the foiled package underneath your fingertips. In victory, you stood up straight and caught sight of yourself in the mirror. You noticed the discoloration on your neck-a mark Harry made on you. And then it hit you that you were keeping Harry Styles, practically naked and waiting, in your bed. A new found excitement engulfed you as you exited the bathroom to find him lying on his back with his arms resting comfortably behind his head. Once his eyes laid on you, he propped himself up on his elbows, a lazy grin etched onto his face. He reached out a hand, and gently you allowed yours to slip into his, your fingers entwining as you climbed back into bed and draped a leg across his lap. It was nearly impossible to ignore just how hard Harry was underneath you. You shifted slightly, unintentionally causing you to rock against him. An inescapable moan came from the both of you; your heart was once again fluttering in your chest. Slowly, he sat up, tilting his face up towards yours. His kiss swollen lips lingered over yours as he pushed his hips upwards slightly, but before you could even considered whimpering in reply, his hand snaked behind your head, forcing your mouth to crash against his.
And then out of nowhere, your bare back was suddenly against the mattress and Harry was hovering over you. You laid there, allowing him to plant warm kisses down your body, humming softly against your skin as he did so. It started, as always, with your lips, and he worked his way down your neck and the curve of your collarbone. Down to one breast while his hand cupped the other. Down the dip of your stomach to the threshold of where your underwear met your waist. He sat back on his knees and ran his hand through his hair, his eyes casting down on you.
“You’re so beautiful,” His voice was undoubtedly tainted with something much sexier. He looped his fingers around the band of the lacy, black fabric and pulled down. You bent your legs some, making it easier for him to remove them.
You sat up, immediately reaching to push his boxers down his hips. Harry maneuvered his legs until the undergarment had been completely shed from his body. You stuck out your hand, reaching the condom to him. Gratefully, he took the foil and tore off the edge with his teeth. Carefully, he took the rubber and rolled it down onto his length. You reached your hand forward and tucked his hair behind his ear. His eyes flicked up to yours, and a daring little smile touched his lips. Sweetly, he kissed you again as he laid you back down.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” You responded to his compliment between kisses. The chuckle that was supposed to come from him came more like an amused hum against your lips. Using his hands, Harry pushed your legs open a little wider, bringing one of them up around his thigh. You reached between the two of you, taking a hold of the stiff muscle between Harry’s legs. Carefully, you guided him towards your entrance, and the time for humorous comments and infectious laughter had ceased. You watched as his jaw clenched in anticipation, and you wondered what was going through his head. Was he sharing your same thoughts and feelings? Did the same nerves and anxiety course through him? You couldn't tell. And with the way he was looking down at you, he made it feel like you two were the only ones in the world.
Harry pressed his forehead to yours, staring directly into your eyes as he eased himself into you.
A shuddered gasp tore through you as he slowly thrusted, allowing you to adjust to him. You wanted nothing more than to watch how his face changes, but your eyes were weighed shut by the pleasure of Harry filling you. He nearly pulled out of your completely, just to repeat the motion.
“Faster,” You breathed out, and he obeyed. Skin to inked skin, hipbones to hipbones, Harry found a steady rhythm as his hips rolled into yours. Your mouths bump against each others, never really formulating into a significant kiss as a constant stream of shuddered sighs and moans slipped through your parted lips. Blindly, your fingers glided into the dips of his flexed arm. The tips sliding down his contorting back, your nails digging into it and scratching down lightly. In response, Harry moaned, and it was a sound you never knew you’d love so much.
You had managed to do it. You’d drowned in Harry. Your every sense was filled by him, and he was the only thing that was on your mind. In the moment, he completely surrounded you. His name lingered softly, like a prayer, on your lips. He was driving you absolutely crazy, yet he was your only sense of relief. You arched your back underneath him, hips meeting further more in sync as you moaned softly. And he admired how you looked underneath him, watching as your hands dug into the mattress for dear life, your legs tightening around him as your hips rose up to meet his more consistently. He trailed his lips over your neck, tasting the salt from the sweat that formulated against your skin as he kissed down, thrusting harder into you. The poor mattress underneath you groaned at the weight of you both, creaking with every forceful movement. The air between the two of you felt thick, filled with a mixed and mingled chorus of moans and sighs and half spoken, lust broken sentences.
With each thrust, his hair brushed gently across your face, and at the right angle, it began to tickle. Helplessly, you started giggling, trying in vain to move your face so it was free from the range of his growing brunette curls. He slowed his pace slightly, looking down at you in amused confusion.
"Your hair. It tickles," You admitted with a little smile on your lips.
"Sorry," He grinned apologetically. Harry paused for a second, and you looked up at him through hooded eyes. He leaned up, taking the hair tie on his wrist and whipped his hair back into a bun. You admired him as you let your hand palm up his glistening torso, stopping right at the butterfly when he leaned back over and continue to go down on you. You weren't sure how much longer you would be able to last. Your breathing became sporadic, and the quiet, airy whimpers of Harry’s name grew louder and louder. It became impossible for you to keep your eyes open, or to control the motion of your hips as they desperately bucked up in hopes to obtain every inch of him. And then he finally said it. Your name passed through his clenched teeth, and hearing your name like that, so rushed, so needy, combined with Harry’s thrust becoming harder and faster and less in sync, was enough to push you over your limit. His hand found yours and pushed it further into the mattress as his fingers locked around yours. The tension was undeniably building in your body. He continued to slam into you as you felt the familiar pull in between your legs, the fire spreading through your veins, but no one, not once had the same effect Harry had on you. You threw your head back further, and suddenly, you felt it was nearly impossible to catch your breath. Harry followed shortly after; his free hand gripped the sheets harshly as he gradually slowed his thrust, your eruptive climaxes settling into reduced pants and sloppy kisses. Slowly, he pulled himself out of you, and collapsed by your side. It was silent, despite your equally harsh breaths. You looked over at him to see his signature lopsided grin on his face.
“What?” You chuckled, both amused and somewhat curious.
“If I’d known this would be the result of you meeting Matty, I would've introduced the two of you weeks ago.” He said, barely containing himself.
Lightly, you hit his chest in false offense, but you couldn't help but to join in on his laughter. He wrapped one arm around you, scooting you closer to him. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” You smiled as you pressed a kiss to his lips.
“Oh, I know I’m funny,” He said first and returned the favor.
***
Hope you liked it! Here's a link to other things I've written.
Note: Contains sexual themes. Also, requests are opened!
**One Time by Marian Hill
The day had finally come.
Months had passed since you were in the same city with Harry, but it was the day the both of you’d been waiting for since One Direction started their new tour. In the past 24 hours, you could hardly contain yourself from the excitement of being able to see him face to face rather than the screen that seemed to reconnect the two of you over thousands of miles, to reach out and touch him, to run your fingers through his hair which seemed a bit longer each and every day, to feel his lips pressed against yours. The plan was to spend time with him throughout the day before he took the stage that night in front of thousands, the way he did night after night, and to finish the night in his hotel room, catching up and making up for lost time in more ways than one. But of course, nothing ever worked out as planned.
You being there was supposed to be a surprise. Periodically, you looked down at your watch. Five minutes wasn’t really a big deal. Ten minutes, you figured something might’ve come up. But when fifteen turned to twenty turned into twenty five turned into thirty, you were starting to become concerned. You just kind of stood around in the airport, watching as people seemingly arrived and departed in a routine manner, but never the boys. In a fit of nerves, you began to tug at the new outfit you were wearing, specifically purchased for the occasion. Maybe they got a late start, you tried to reassure yourself. There was no actual way of telling. You looked down at the little sign you’d made: HS. was all it said in black ink, except the period on the end was actually a red tiny heart. You sighed to yourself and looked back up. Just through the window, you could see a familiar figure exiting the plane.
A new wave excitement, accompanied with nerves, hit you. Suddenly, you felt the urge to check your appearance, to make sure you were more than presentable for the first time your boyfriend laid his eyes on you after months of not being on the same continent, much less being in the same room. You were smiling fondly in spite of yourself as you watched him. The way he was walking, the way he smiled as he undoubtedly joked with the other boys, the way his hair was pulled into a bun which was much fuller than the last time you’d seen it- they were all things that you missed.
But he kept walking forward, hardly straying from the path he set, not once looking up at you. Zayn nudged him gently and pointed in your direction, causing Harry to look back at him and then towards you. With a beaming grin on your face, you held your little sign a little higher for him to see. His eyes widened in disbelief as the shocked expression melted from his features, a smile taking its place. Immediately, he headed for you. Overcome with emotion, you met him half way, practically running and jumping on him, his arms stretched out ready for you. You buried your face in his shoulder with your eyes shut tight as he lifted you off of your feet, your arms tight around his neck. This is what you missed. You inhaled and sighed. You missed everything about him, right down to his very scent and the way he made you feel when he held you close. Tears of overwhelming joy escaped you. Almost reluctantly, you pulled apart.
“Why are you crying, love?” He grinned down at you, only making you cry a little harder. He was more beautiful in person than you actually remembered. Lightly, he used his thumbs to wipe away the tears that’d fallen.
You sniffled, “Because I’ve missed you like crazy.”
“And I’ve missed you too.” He replied, leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. You sighed contently, savoring the moment. The other boys began to clear their throat obnoxiously to get you and Harry’s attention, and it worked. The two of you broke apart, but Harry slipped one arm across your shoulders and pressed another kiss on top of your head as the two of you walked. “God, I’ve missed you.” He whispered into your hair. All the while, you couldn’t wait to spend the majority of your day alone with him until the show started.
Then again, nothing worked out as planned, especially when dating Harry Styles.
Unbeknownst to you, Harry’s day would be filled with nothing but the band. He traveled around the city, doing various interviews and making a few appearances here and there. You tagged along, watching from the sidelines as Harry worked. Mostly, you chatted with Lou or whichever boy who wasn’t needed at the time. Mostly, you accepted defeat, because the little time you and Harry had to talk and reconnect in between transitioning from location to the next was infinitely better than the months you spent apart. But things finally changed once everyone arrived to the venue. The boys all went their separate ways to their respective dressing rooms, and as much as you enjoyed joking around with them, you couldn’t be happier that the opportunity to spend some quality time with Harry had finally arisen, even if it was in a stadium.
And the quality time, it was much, much better than you’d originally planned. Upon entering the room, Harry immediately closed the door behind him and pulled you to him. From there, everything moved in a blur.
“Is that door locked?” Your voice hitched involuntarily, the last word trailing off from your lips. He’d sat you up on the counter, your back pressed against the mirror as Harry stood in between your legs.
“Mhmm.” He hummed against your skin as he placed a slow, drawn out kiss over your neck. Your eyes shut at the sensation that’d been absent for months, a soft sigh passing through your parted lips. One of Harry’s hands, which had been gripping your waist, pulled at the fabric covering your shoulder. He started placing little kisses there, nipping it lightly, and swiping his tongue over the mark that’d eventually form.
“Good,” You manage to get out. Harry brought his mouth back up to yours. You kept your hands at the back of his neck, softly scratching his skin as your noses bumped against each others as your mouths moved in sync, tongues moving against each other. You allowed your hand to travel up a bit, pulling his hair down from the bun and letting his hair, the hair you’d been craving to run your fingers through, fall right at his shoulders. His fingers traced up your leg, lightly creeping their way higher up, reaching your inner thigh while his other palm pressed into the small of your back, but your hand caught his. He broke the kiss, looking at you slightly confused.
“I’ve got a better idea,” You brought his hand up to your mouth and lightly pressed kisses against his fingertips. You slid off of the counter, “Take off your shirt,” you commanded. Harry reached from behind, pulling his t shirt over his head and tossed it on the carpeted floor. You resumed kissing Harry, but your mouth fled his and spilt little kisses along his clenched jaw, down the curve of his neck, letting your lips linger on his 1957 tattoo and then his 1967. Lightly, you nipped at the skin there, a low groan escaped Harry, even though the two of you vowed that you both would be quiet if this was going to work. Regardless, you couldn’t help the little satisfied smile you wore as you continued to kiss down the length of his torso. Your fingers fumbled with the loop of his belt and the button of his dark jeans, pulling the zipper down as well. Harry looked down at you intently, watching your every move, and you repositioned yourself, settling on your knees, pressing a soft kiss along his ‘Might as well…’ tattoo, just above his waistline, causing a deep, a rich sound to resonate from him. All the while, you tugged at his pants until they’d fallen around his ankles. You kept your eyes up on Harry as you reached your hand forward, palming him lightly through his boxers. You could see the moan forming on his lips, the way his eyes slipped shut and his face contorted in pleasure.
“Shhh,” You reminded him, bringing your index finger over your mouth. He bit down on his bottom lip instead, bringing his hands forward to steady himself against the counter for support. Harry was under your control, and you absolutely loved it. You licked your lips before tugging down slowly, teasingly on the fabric of his boxers on his hips.
“Hey, Har-oh my God,” You heard an Irish voice.
Your attention immediately shot to Niall in horror and disbelief, who stared at you with the exact expression. “Oh my God!” You screamed and hurriedly stood up properly.
“Get out!” Harry yelled at him while hurrying to pull his pants back up around his waist, but Niall was still frozen in shock. Harry stepped towards him, pointing at the door. You turned away from the both of them as you covered your face in embarrassment. A continuous string of “oh my God” fell from you.
“I’m so sorry,” Niall said in repetition as he scrambled to exit Harry’s dressing room as quickly as possible. The brunette boy slammed the door shut behind him.
You plopped down on the leather sofa in the room; your hand was covering your mouth, still completely traumatized. Harry turned around, running his hand through his hair before placing it on his hip. There was an unbearable silence. You looked over at him, “I can’t believe that just happened,” You said completely bewildered.
His expression was beyond annoyed. It could’ve been worse, you thought to yourself. Rather than just Niall, it could’ve been the other four boys or anyone else for that matter. The scene replayed itself in your mind, and you couldn’t help but to laugh a little.
“What’s so funny?” He helplessly joined in.
You gestured around the room, to yourself and then to him. He was still standing there, button, belt and zipper still undone, his jeans sat loosely around his waist. “So much for you locking the door?”
Harry smiled apologetically, but he soon lost himself. “Did you see his face?” He walked over, taking a seat down next to you. You swept your legs around, bringing them to where they laid across his lap.
You shook your head no, laughing even harder. You leaned forward, burying your face in his shoulder, his arm settling around you. “I mean, I didn’t get to see his face when he first walked in, because you know, I was on my knees, but the panic in his voice was enough.”
Slowly, you began to stir from your sleep. You blinked for a moment; your eyes wondered the perimeter of the room as you gathered your senses of your surroundings. It’d become so familiar to you. You’d gotten used to the feeling of his sheets, and without looking, you knew exactly where the picture he kept of Gemma and Anne sat on his nightstand. It was a far cry from your first days of spending the night in Harry’s apartment. This was his sacred place. It was the one place he was safe from the scrutiny of the public eye, yet he welcomed you in. And with time, the vague feeling of unfamiliarity faded away, and you felt at home.
With a yawn, you stretched your arms high above your head before propping yourself up in his bed. Harry’s voice rang clearly somewhere towards the front of his apartment as he sang along to whatever song that was playing. Lazily, you kicked back the sheets and arose to your feet, already dawned in his shirt from the previous night. You sluggishly drew across the floor as you ventured down the little hallway. The sweet aromas circulating through the air led you to believe that Harry was in the kitchen. He stood at the stove, wearing only his boxers. His hair, which otherwise would’ve fallen victim to bedhead, was pulled back into a bun, but you admired how it looked good on him. He looked up in your direction, a smile immediately replacing the concentration on his face.
“Mornin’, love.”
You walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around him. “Good morning,” You pressed your lips to his back, rested your head against him with your eyes shut, and exhaled slowly. This was something you could get used to. You loved how undoubtedly playful Harry could be, but there was something about seeing him like this, when he wasn’t entirely awake, and his voice was still rasped with sleep, his thoughts often far away. “Is there anything I can help you with?” You offered.
“No, I’ve got it.” You could feel the vibrations of him speaking.
Softly, you placed another kiss on his bare skin before removing yourself from him to sit at the little table that sat in the corner of the kitchen by the window. You watched as he moved about the kitchen with ease, an amused smile on your face. Methodically, he placed the food on the plate and made sure it was perfect. He paused for a moment, placing his hands on his hips as he looked down at the dishes. Carefully, he began to balance the plates, cups and silverware in his arms. Very deep in thought, he strategically placed one foot in front of the other.
“Don’t hurt yourself over there,” you teased.
Harry shot you a glance and a nervous smile and continued on his little journey to the table. You held your breath, watching as he almost let the food topple over. You were close to offering your assistance, but you were afraid of what would occur if you broke his intense focus. Very carefully, he placed the plates down and joined you by taking a seat. Your stomach growled right on cue, making you realize just how hungry you were. Harry laughed as a natural reaction.
“Shut up!” You laughed as you brought the fork full of pancakes and syrup up to your mouth. This time, they were brown butter pecan. You made a small, involuntary sound of approval. This had become sort of a little tradition. Every time you found yourself spending the night at Harry’s, he’d make pancakes the following morning, each time a different flavor. You were mostly convinced it was the only thing he knew how to make, but you weren’t complaining.
You glanced up at Harry to see his green eyes trained on you. “What? Is there syrup all over my face again?” You grabbed the napkin and dabbed at your chin.
“No,” He chuckled, “My family’s coming in town today.” You nodded along as you took a drink. You’d known for weeks that they were coming. How could you forget? Each day Harry got a bit happier, and you could easily sense his infectious excitement. “And I want you to meet them,” Harry added slowly.
Automatically, as if by a natural response, you cleared your throat. “What?” You stared at him, mouth slightly ajar. You’d planned to give him his space, to let him catch up with his mom and sister without interruption. This was never a part of the plan. Completely unfazed, Harry repeated himself. You looked over his face, searching for any particular chance that he was joking.
“You’re serious?” A helpless smile tugged along the lines of your lips.
“Very.” He sipped his tea, as if it were nothing, but even the mug could not hide his own little grin.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this” You laughed as you covered your face in something that resembled embarrassment.
“Hey, this was your idea.” Harry was already far ahead of you. Immediately he’d started stripping out of his clothes, and he stood in front of you now only in his boxers. You, on the other hand, were having difficulty, but you’d managed to remove everything with the exception of your bra and underwear. “Plus you’re acting like I've never seen you in the nude,” He added.
You peeked through your fingers at him. In the dark, the light from the numberless tealight candles, which littered the bathroom from the marble counters to the rim of the tub, casted warm shades of orange and yellow across Harry’s face. And that face, what a beautiful face it was. You could almost imagine the bones beneath the skin, as if his skull alone was attractive. The skin underneath his green eyes was a nearly unnoticeable shade darker than it was suppose to be, a badge of honor from all of the nights touring and the occasional drink. His hair had grown longer and the seemingly tight curls that he’d kept when he was a teen had now fallen perfectly as a man, but for the time being, it was pulled back into a bun. “This is different,” You insisted.
He smiled fondly at you. “Come ‘ere.” He muttered gently. He brought your hands down and away from covering your face. He kept his eyes on yours as he slowly slid your bra straps off your shoulders. His fingers ghosted up the length of your back until he reached the clasp. With one hand, he was able to undo it. Harry pulled the undergarment from you, and you maneuvered your arms so it’d be easier to slide off. Just like so many articles of clothes, it was added to the ground.
“Fine.” You gave in, pushing your ridiculous nerves aside. You shook out your hands before placing them on your hips, but you quickly reached forward and yanked Harry’s boxers down. He let out a shocked laugh, but you stood there, looking at him defiantly. He shrugged before looping his fingers around your underwear, pulling them down too. You looked up at him from underneath your eyelashes and then directed your attention to the whole reason the two of you were standing in the bathroom like this.
The bathtub was filled nearly to capacity with warm water and scented bubbles. Along with candles, there were two glasses, a bottle of wine and a Polaroid camera sitting on the side of the tub. Quietly, there was a song playing in the background. You approached the tub first. Taking it one foot at a time, you slipped into the water. Your eyes followed Harry as he did the same and sat across from you. Wasting no time, you poured yourself a glass of wine and then handed the bottle to your boyfriend. You looked down to take a sip, but when you looked up, Harry was staring at you. “What?” You were amused.
“Stay just like that.” He sat his glass down and stretched back to grab the instant camera. You didn't move a muscle until you saw the film slide from the camera. Harry took it, waiting for it to develop. Soon enough, a little photo of you came into focus. “You look beautiful.” He showed you the picture.
“Give me the camera.” You insisted and he did. You positioned it so you could hold it with one hand. With the other, you scooped up a hand full of bubbles. “Say cheese.” You couldn't help but smile when Harry grinned so wide that his eyes were shut tight and nearly all of his teeth showed. Right as you clicked down, you blew the bubbles into his face. Never in his life had he looked so insulted. He opened his eyes and looked at you accusingly as he wiped the bubbles from his face.
Without warning, he took the camera from your hands and tossed it gently on the floor. He lunged forwards, showering your face in a dozen quick, little kisses. Between helpless giggles and the squealing of his name, his lips eventually captured yours, and contently you sighed. He balanced himself by placing his hands on the bottom of the tub, settling between your legs, as you wrapped them and your arms around him. He managed to settle on one knee as he broke the affectionate transaction. Anyone would be so lucky to have someone look at them the way Harry was looking at you. He reached his hand from under the water and tucked a few wild strands of hair behind your ear. “I love you so much.”
Your hand settled on the side of his face as you applied a single drawn out kiss to his lips. And once you pulled away, your fingers soothed out a lone piece of his hair that didn't quite reach when he pulled his hair back into a bun. “I love you too,” You smiled at him, “More than you’ll ever know.”
another harry one! you all seem to like these (: request if you want. *i do not own the gif
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You could hear commotion outside of your bunk as you slowly awoke. Opening your curtain, you looked around and saw Harry and Liam in the kitchen area laughing about something. Being the girl on this tour bus, you got a bottom bunk and you were happy about it. After a quick trip to the bus bathroom, you joined them in the kitchen.
“Where are we?” you asked the two boys.
“On the road.” As you were grabbing a water bottle out of the mini fridge, you felt a pain in your stomach. You could only tell that it was ‘your time of the month.’ It was rough getting your period when you were on a bus with all guys but you seemed to manage.
“Why can’t you just tell me where we are?!” You practically yelled.
“Oh whoa there!” Liam jumped back, surprised you were so crabby.
“What? Are you on your period?” Harry mocked, a smirk on his face.
“I can’t believe you’d act like such a boy!” You took the water bottle out, slammed the fridge door and walked back to your bunk. You pulled the covers back over you, grabbed your Apple laptop and turned it on. If the boys wanted to be idiots, then she would have to stay away from them today.
Harry opened her curtain and climbed in the other end of her bunk, closing the curtain back up. It was a bit tight in there but they’ve done it many times before. “Look, I’m sorry. What can I do?” He asked.
You thought about it for a bit. Nobody really offered to help you during a time like this so you tried to think of something he could do. “Well, you can go get me a banana.” You didn’t know what else he could do. He nodded and left your bunk.
You went through your Netflix to decide what movie you should watch today. He returned with a banana and a bar of chocolate. “I thought you’d need this too. I heard it makes girls feel better?”
Laughing, you took the chocolate bar and opened it, offering him a piece. “Watch this movie with me.” You positioned yourself so you could watch the movie with him. You cuddled up against him and he wrapped an arm around you. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For taking care of me when I don’t feel well. I wouldn’t mind if we did this every month.”
yay another imagine! tell me if you like them or if i should try a different approach. & if you liked it, don't be afraid to request. *gif is not mine
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It had been a long day of classes for you and you couldn’t wait until you could get back to your dorm and take a long nap. Once you entered the building, you pulled your messy hair into a bun and climbed onto the elevator. Reaching into the bag, you looked around for your keys.
“Crap! I forgot them,” you whispered to yourself. You closed your bag and tapped your foot, waiting for the elevator to open up onto your floor.
“Hey y/n!” A friend called as the elevator doors open.
“Oh hey, how are you?” You wished she wouldn’t talk long, you just wanted to curl up under the covers.
“I’m doing good. Coming from class?” You nodded. “I’m sure you’re tired. I’ll text you later, okay?”
“See ya.” You walked away with a smile and reached your dorm room. “Please be home!” You begged as you knocked on the door. You wished that your roommate was in there or else you’d be at the local Starbucks, trying to stay awake with five cups of coffee.
“Yes?” A unfamiliar voice opened the door. Without caring who it was that your roommate invited over, you began to push your way in. He put his hands up so you couldn’t walk through. “What are you doing?”
“I just got out of class and I’m tired. Now let me through.” You glared at him.
“Whoa, crabby much?” You narrowed your eyes and put your hand on your hip. He laughed. “I’m Harry. Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m y/n. Great, now let me inside.” He dropped his arms and moved so you could walk through. But he stopped you again before you could walk any farther. “Why would you need beauty sleep? You’re already gorgeous.” He winked.
“Nice try. Oh and can you try to not make much noise with my roommate? We have thin walls.”
“Don’t worry about that. We’re just friends. I’d like to be more than friends with you though.”
You laughed and proceeded towards your bedroom. “Goodnight!” You yelled before closing the door behind you.
