Imagine being engaged to Harry and how he just beams whenever someone brings you up and he starts talking about he's counting down the days and that he can't wait for you to have his last name. When he hugs you, he'll bring you real close and sometimes whispers "I can't wait to for you to be mah wife" in your hair before kissing you on the forehead. The morning of the wedding, you get a text that reads "Been waiting for this day. Cant wait to spend forever with you. See you at the altar xx"
And when you do see him at the altar, it’s all you can do to keep it together, because here’s this man you love more than anything in a tuxedo, ready to marry you. He’s crying through a beaming smile, his bright green eyes shimmering in the sunlight (you’ll get married outside - probably on a cliff, because he’s Harry and he has to do it up proper). He’s overwhelmed, even though he tried his hardest to prepare himself for how beautiful you’d look. Part of him knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle how gorgeous you looked walking to him, but he’d convinced himself that he would stay strong and not shed even a single tear. Looking at you now, he knew how foolish it was to think such a thing.
He’d glance over at Anne and give her a big thumbs up, pointing at you and wiggling your eyebrows as if to say, “Look, Mum! I’ve done well!” and it makes you laugh. It eases your nerves a bit, realizing that he’s the same Harry you’ve always known, and that even through that furrowed brow of his, he’s still the love of your life and you were over the moon about standing up here with him on your wedding day, grasping his hands so tightly, you’re sure there won’t be any feeling left in them by the time you’ve said your vows.
He keeps mouthing things like, “You’re beautiful” and, “I love you” and, “I’ve got to wee!” throughout the ceremony because you’ve never been one to enjoy it when all of the attention is on you. You cry through his vows, happy that you’d chosen to go first, not knowing how you’d be able to keep yourself together had you been aware of the words he would say to you. He talks about how he had always worried about not finding someone he could live forever with; he talks about how he knew you were the one he was going to marry when it physically pained him to be away from you on tour; he talks about how he can’t imagine his life without you - how he wouldn’t want to imagine his life without you; he talks about how appreciative he is of everything you go through just because you’re with him. You’re blubbering by the end of it, and so is he, but you’ve never been happier.
When you see the ring on his finger - the simple band with your initials and the date inscribed on the inside, the simple band that’ll replace his more ornate pieces for the rest of your lives - you can’t imagine spending the rest of your life with anyone else.
does your heart ever break because sirius had to go through twelve years of knowing nothing but the touch of stone and darkness and dementors when he was only a few years out of school and just mere minutes after losing the only people that ever stood by him
You and Lily were sitting next to each other on the fence of her and James’ new house, a scrapbook from your past years at Hogwarts in your hands. You had all recently graduated a few months ago, James proposing to Lily the second everyone joyously left the school. Some might argue it was too soon, but with the war happening, no one could blame them. Everyone was at risk, and knowing your friends they would be charging out into the fire head first.
Procrastinating from English Coursework and so here is a masterlist for you all of my imagines. You may want it, or you may not want it but I really don’t want to do my coursework so I might aswell waste my time effectively! :)
In this list you will find:
- Youtubers (Jack and Finn Harries, Marcus Butler, Alfie Deyes, Caspar Lee, Troye Sivan, Kian Lawley, Connor Franta, Jai Brooks)
- Logan Lerman
- Niall Horan
- 5SOS (Luke Hemmings, Michael Clifford, Ashton Irwin, Calum Hood)
- Nathan Sykes
- The Vamps (Connor Ball, Brad Simpson)
- Taron Egerton
- Dylan O’Brien
(Can we also keep in mind some of these imagines are from 3 years ago now, so they’re not exactly the best! And some are just general whereas others were requests written for specific people, but they can still be read, you can just substitute yourself in!)
- He finds out you self harm (A/N: This was requested, I no way myself would romanticise self harm, and please if anybody would like someone to talk to my ask is always open, don’t feel you have to go through things alone)
Push off a cliff - Harry. He has magic, and he’s survived worse, lbr. Being pushed off a cliff is like an average Tuesday for Dresden. I would say Marcone, but if I did that there would be… negative repercussions.
Kiss - Thomas. Because he’s a White Court Vampire.
Marry - Murph. We can be smol and eat ice cream and I can tend her rose garden and make sure she eats properly beacuse I know she doesn’t and she just DESERVES TO BE LOVED AND LOOKED AFTER, DAMMIT!!! ;w;
Set on Fire - Nicodemus. In the immortal words of Jared Kincaid: Blow it up, soak what’s left in gasoline, set it on fire, then blow it all up again. I would Bolshevik Muppet the HELL out of ol’ Nicky.
Wrap a Blanket around - Justine, so that she and Thomas can cuddle and be adorable together.
Be Roommates with - Marcone. He’s rich, he’s got a nice house, and provided you keep tidy and don’t get in the way of business he’s probably pretty easy to live with.
Niall tries to keep his foot steps light, quiet. It seems a bit silly, tip-toeing through the middle of the jungle — nor is it easy, considering the noise twigs make when they snap and the way the foliage sometimes crunches under his weight. Being quiet is crucial, though, if he doesn’t want to get caught and getting caught is the last thing he wants — until he does.
He’s been sneaking out of the camp for months now, tells his parents he’s going off to explore — which they don’t even bother questioning because they’re actual explorers, doing actual exploring in the name of actual research. All Niall really wants, in reality, is to get away from all the people and the scientific talk about gorillas and be free. He also just really wants to see Harry.
Harry’s strange, Niall’s decided, and not just because he was raised by gorillas. (He can also talk to gorillas, which he’s seen first hand.) He doesn’t even know how to describe how strange Harry is, because he just…is; in that you’re-strange-but-I-like-you sort of way. And Niall just really, really likes him.
There’s just something about him — maybe it’s his freedom or the fact that he’s not like anyone he’s ever known or maybe it’s the unconditional love he feels for his own family. Then there’s the long, dark curls and the bright green eyes and those bright red lips and the tanned skin and the fact that he never wears a shirt of trousers - the fact that he doesn’t even own a shirt or a pair of trousers. Needless to say, Niall’s been intrigued by him for weeks now and if he’s chosen not to tell his parents — not only that he’s actually seen the pack of gorilla’s they’ve been looking for, but that there’s a human with them — then that’s nobody’s business but his own. And Harry’s. And the gorillas’.
He reaches the pond in record time, having finally managed to commit the trail to memory; not only does it save time, but it saves Niall from the embarrassment of Harry having to come find him.
”It’s not my fault all the damn trees look the same,” Niall had grumbled the third time he’d gotten himself lost.
”They do not look the same,” Harry had protested. ”They take offence to that.”
Niall still thinks they look the same, despite all the ways in which Harry has tried to point out that they don’t.
He sits upon the biggest rock at the water’s edge, shaded by the leaves of a tree and drops his dark brown travel backpack on the ground between his feet. He’s brought a few supplies with him — a blanket, a water bottle and some snacks, which he shares with Harry. Harry usually just gets them each a banana and calls that a meal.
The sound of rustling leaves above him stretches his lips into a smile. He pretends not to hear it, continues to pretend to search through the things in his bag whilst listening as the sound of something moving through the branches above gets closer and closer. And then he looks up, smirks when his gaze collides with Harry’s wide, green eyes.
Harry, who’s practically hanging upside down from the lowest tree branch. He frowns, flipping himself around so he lands on his feet when he lets go of the branch. “Why’d you look for?”
“You’re not as subtle as you think you are,” Niall teases.
“‘m more subtle than you,” the dark haired boy points out, crossing his arms over his chest.
Niall rolls his eyes as he lifts his hand out of his bag and tosses a granola bar in Harry’s direction. Harry catches it, flips it over and over in his hands, eyebrows stitched together in confusion. Niall watches him fondly as he pushes himself to his feet, and takes the granola bar out of Harry’s hands to unwrap it for him. He watches Harry contemplate it — and then watches him eat it and, yeah, that’s a bad idea. Because Harry’s lips are fucking sinful and his jaw is delicious and-
“What was that?” Harry wonders out loud.
“It’s called a granola bar,” Niall snickers. “I brought another one of you want it later.”
“Later,” the brunette confirms. “I want to show you something.”
Niall bends down to zip up his bag before standing up straight again and swinging his bag over his shoulders. “Where are we going today, Mark?!” he teases, a mischievous grin spread across his lips.
Harry’s whole face screws up in confusion and he tilts his head, gazing at Niall curiously.
“That’s more of an inside joke,” the blond explains. “Mark works for me dad, he’s like a guide an’ he-” he cuts himself off when Harry continues to look confused. “Never mind. What is it you want to show me?”
Harry’s eyes light up and a wide, tooth-y grin breaks out on his beautiful face. He reaches for Niall’s hand, intertwines their fingers - Niall ignores the shiver that runs up and down his spine - and then tugs Niall along after him, deeper into the jungle.
There are hands over his eyes and he can feel the length of Harry’s tall, muscular body pressed against his side as Harry guides him, very carefully. The brunette tugs him to a stop, situated him just the way he wants and then lowers his hands.
Niall finds himself — and Harry — standing close to the edge of a very high cliff. The view stretches on for thousands of miles — across tree tops and beaches and a large, vast ocean, so blue and perfect that it doesn’t even look like there’s a horizon; it looks a bit like the sky and the ocean are one. It’s phenomenal, unlike anything he’s ever seen and he’s seen a lot. It’s one of those things he wants to capture so he can share it with the world, like Harry — but he also just really wants to keep it for himself. “Wow…” he murmurs.
“It’s even better from higher up.”
Niall tears his gaze away to look at Harry, who’s looking at him. “We’re on the top of a cliff, Harry. How much higher can we get?”
Harry grins. “Climb a tree.”
The blond raises an eyebrow and a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. He shrugs the straps of his backpack off his shoulders and let’s the bag fall to the ground as Harry turns around, bending slightly at the knees to make it easier for Niall to climb onto his back.
Harry climbs trees better than he walks on solid ground. And Niall loves it, is fascinated by it — the way he maneuvers himself between branches, swings himself around like he’s weightless, accommodates for both Niall’s body and weight. The first time Harry picked Niall up, swung him around to make him cling to his back and scaled the branches of a tree, Niall had kept his eyes closed until they got to the top. Now, however, Niall wishes he didn’t even have to blink so much.
Niall’s in awe when they reach the top, allows himself to be lowered from Harry’s back. He stands next to Harry, one hand holding onto a branch above their heads whilst the other holds onto Harry’s arm. Harry’s right; the view is definitely better from higher up. “This is amazing.”
He turns his head to look at Harry, who’s staring back with a sort of fond, far away look in his eyes, his long curls blowing in the wind and Niall’s breath catches in his throat. And suddenly, he isn’t sure which view he prefers.
Niall follows Harry down a short while later. He likes climbing down on his own just as long as Harry’s there to help. He’s slow, out of practice, unlike Harry, and his feet slip on a few of the branches but Harry’s quick to catch him before he falls. The lowest branch is low enough to the ground that all he has to do is jump down. He pushes himself away from the branch and lands on his feet — a puff of dirt blows up from the ground around where his hiking boots land, directly mirroring Harry’s bare feet and he grins as he stands up straight, chest-to-chest and face-to-face with the boy in front of him.
Harry stares down at him, face so close that Niall can see little specks of brown in the green of his eyes, can feel Harry’s breath on his face. His gaze flickers down to Niall’s lips and the blond finds himself holding his breath — and then Harry’s kissing him.
Niall gasps, freezes the second Harry’s lips press tentatively, nervously against his.
They haven’t done this in over a week — and when they did it was Niall who’d kissed Harry first. Niall, who’d cut the brunette off mid-ramble by throwing himself at Harry and devouring him. Niall, who’d lied Harry out on the jungle floor and given him the best blowjob of his life - the only blowjob of his life - before fucking him, slow and hard into the grass. And now here’s Harry, kissing him first.
Niall kisses back, buries his hands in Harry’s hair, tugs gently at the roots as he presses them closer and licks into Harry’s mouth. Harry leans into him, presses both hands against Niall’s hips as he guides the blond backwards until Niall’s back hits the trunk of the tree. He groans into Harry’s mouth, feels his heart beat hard against his rib cage as Harry presses the length of their bodies together. A gasp slips through his lips - gets swallowed by Harry’s mouth - when he feels how hard Harry is through the fabric of Harry’s loin cloth and Niall’s own shorts.
Harry pulls back then, forehead still pressed against Niall’s as he reaches for the button on the blond boy’s shorts. Niall reaches hurriedly for the neck of his shirt and struggles to pull it off in one go just as Harry starts pushing his pants down his legs. Niall laughs softly as he trips trying to kick off his boots and then step out of his pants.
He’s hard — so fucking hard and then he catches sight of Harry’s dick, flushed and hard and his throat runs dry. “Um — I-I brought a blanket,” he murmurs, pointing towards the bag he’d dropped on the ground when they first got here. “We could lay it out on the ground-“
Harry pushes him back gently, a large hand pressed against his chest, against the tree once more. His eyes are dark and lustful, his lips are already a bit redder and swollen. “Like this,” he whispers. ”I wanna fuck you.”
Niall blinks, let’s his gaze flicker between both of Harry’s eyes; those are they exact words Niall whispered to Harry the first — and last — time. He’s never done anything like this; he’s never even thought about it before. The wildest thing he’s ever done is hook up with someone on the bathroom floor at a party last year. And, suddenly, it’s all he wants — to be fucked against a tree, pressed between Harry and a tree, held there and unable to move. He needs it. He nods, points again at his bag. “There’s lube - that ‘cold stuff’ - in the front pocket,” he says — and Harry practically dives towards the bag on the ground.
He grabs at Harry’s broad shoulders the second Harry stands back in front of him, a small bottle of lube in one hand. Harry kisses him hard, pushes his other hand through Niall’s hair and the blond sort of melts against him.
Harry curls his arm around Niall’s waist and lifts him up whilst Niall wraps both legs around Harry’s hips.
He gasps into Harry’s mouth as the brunette’s hard, leaking dick presses into between Niall’s cheeks. He hears the pop of the bottle cap snapping open and his breath catches in his throat with anticipation - and then there’s a finger, wet and rough, pressing against his rim and he chokes on a moan. His thighs clench around Harry’s waist and Harry pulls away to look properly, questioningly at Niall. He nods silently, thrusts his hands into the mess of Harry’s curls and brings their mouths back together. Harry’s never done this before — not like this anyway — but he’s, essentially, copying the things Niall had done to him last week and, Jesus Christ, the lad’s a quick learner.
Harry stretches him open a bit with his fingers, kisses up and down his neck and across his collarbones, sucks at the little pulse point behind Niall’s ear - and Niall swears he’s going to go delirious before it’s even over. He retracts his fingers, swallows Niall’s moan at the sudden loss, presses Niall’s hips back against the tree trunk and then-
Niall’s jaw goes slack, mouth falls open in a silent moan when Harry enters him — and he really does feel a bit delirious. He drops his head, presses his forehead into the crook of Harry’s neck and his back slams, scrapes against the rough face of the tree bark. It hurts, but it hurts in the best way.
It’s hard. It’s fast. It’s a mess of skin slapping against skin, of breathless moans and guttural gasps. Niall’s a mess of harderfasterdontstopneverstop. Harry doesn’t talk but he groans loudly, growls deeply; he sounds incredibly animalistic — no pun intended — and it only spurs Niall on, makes it more arousing and erotic. Makes him want it even more.
It doesn’t last long — but it doesn’t have to. A sob wretches itself from Niall’s throat when he comes, untouched, his lips pressed — slightly open — against Harry’s, arms clutched tightly around his neck. He comes in spurts between them, all over Harry’s toned stomach. Harry comes soon after, a harsh, choked groan slipping through his lips as he presses his teeth against Niall’s shoulder. He continues to thrust slowly, riding out both of their orgasms as he leans, heavily and completely against Niall like his legs have lost their strength.
“Jesus,” Niall murmurs a little while later, carding his fingers through Harry’s hair over and over again. They’re on the ground now, spread out across the blanket Niall has had all along beneath the tree they’d just fucked against.
“What’s that?” Harry asks curiously, breathlessly, as he tilts his head to gaze up at him.
Niall smirks. “It’s - never mind.” Maybe he’ll tell Harry another time, when his brain doesn’t still feel like mush.
Harry rolls onto his stomach, lifts his head from Niall’s. His eyes are wide, eyebrows raised; he looks a bit like an excited child. “Can we do that again tomorrow?”
Niall smiles fondly, pushes Harry’s damp, sweaty hair back away from his face to tuck his curls behind his ear. “Only if you have somewhere else to take me.”
Hello please help me I've read this fic but I forgot the title ☹️ Louis keeps on dreaming about Harry since he was a child. He fell inlove with Harry and the last dream he had with Harry was Harry jumped (I am not sure) at a cliff? Liam found Harry because it one of his patients? (I am not sure) Harry was comatose. Please help me find this fic its so amazing 😩