Harry Styles Imagines

#64 Man Up

Summary: Harry meets your parents. Sexual content towards the end.

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MAN UP

As I await Harry's "Big Reveal," the only thing managing to keep me occupied is the addicting matching game on my phone. It's much like Candy Crush, but more complex. Yes, as childish as it seems, adults (my friends) like myself enjoy playing it. Besides, if I'm going to have a phone, the games on it might as well improve my logic skills.

The quite creak of a door is what finally compels me to raise my head. There he stood, wearing a navy blue button down and a black pair of skinny jeans. The outfit didn't differ—too much—from what he wore on a daily basis, but I can tell he put more of an effort into the looking  presentable aspect.

"You look very handsome," I compliment. If only he knew how much of an understatement that truly was. One of the incredible things about love is that it'll screw with your vision. When you look at the person you love, you won't only see what's on the outside, you'll see what's on the inside as well. What I see in Harry is spirit worth cherishing. He's charming, witty, caring, and most importantly, accepting of everything I am. A better word to describe him would be beautiful.

Worried, he runs his hands down the front of his shirt, smoothing it like a kid would on picture day. "You think so? I'm not underdressed am I?" He questions, green eyes searching mine for the answer.

The last time I witnessed him this nervous was the day he asked me to be his girlfriend. For a short while, he couldn't convince his own eyes to look into mine. It was adorable, honestly. As far as comfortable goes, he's not afraid to do anything around me now. "Harry, there's so need to stress about this. Like I said, you're very handsome. Come here." I stand from our bed when he comes over. "These are my parents we're talking about, not the Queen. They're just two regular people in love like us. They had to go through the same once."

My fingers undo the first button on his shirt. After, I let my hands travel to his loose collar and give it an assuring tug. A small smile stretches across his face, his dimples denting his cheeks in a way that falsely screamed innocence. "Thanks," he murmurs.

Swiftly, I press my lips to his soft ones. A few seconds pass before he finally responds. Warmness spreads through my body. In fear of taking things too far, I reluctantly pull myself away from him, unable to contain my smile. His eyes now glimmer with confidence.

"You're going to be fine. All you have to do is man up," I tease. "Let's go."

- - -

Startling me, the blue-grey door swings opens and my dad's frame appears in the doorway. He easily has a few inches on Harry. Upon seeing the two of us, his face brightens. I've always been jealous of his deep blue eyes. They're intimidating, yet mysterious. My dad is neither of those; only when he wants to be. His bark is bigger than his bite half of the time.

He smiles warmly. "Y/N, Harry! Come on in. Charlotte's finishing up dinner, but she'll be done in just a few minutes. Go ahead and make yourselves comfortable." He instructs as we walk inside, closing the door behind us.

This place hasn't changed a bit. Same colors, same furniture, same pictures on the walls. "Man, I can't believe my girl is all grown up." My dad looks me over while shaking his head. "And she's got herself a boyfriend too. It's nice to finally meet you, Harry. She's told me so much about you." They shake hands. "I hear you sing?"

"Yeah, a little. Nothing major. It's m nice to meet you. She warned me about your bad side," Harry jokes, earning a hearty chuckle from him.

My dad raises his hands in mock surrender. "Yep. I'm definitely the scary one," he jokes. "I'm kidding. Char's the one who'll bite your head clean off. Better watch out."