5sos & 1d Smut

Harry-You Again

 Hello again my friends, from the US to the rest if my readers around the world givin up your time to read my book and getting it to now 8.6K another treat from me to you hope you enjoy!! Sadly this is a slight depressing imagine so i will post another Harry imagine if this isnt your cup of tea.Hope you enjoy.

Request: Would it be to hard to ask for a slightly angst smut imagine with Harry with a sweet ending, Thankss

The rain pelts against the windows, as I sit here, slightly worried about my car. It's been towed four times this month alone, and I know my parents won't tolerate another two hundred dollar towing fee.

It's such a childish situation, something that I for one do not need in my life, along with the expensive college tuition I'm already spending eight hours a day in this coffee shop trying to pay off.

Lenny, the man who I talked to this morning, assured me that if I just park in the student lot, I won't be towed. Yet I haven't made up my mind as to whether or not I trust him.

Knowing me, I probably do.

The storm outside is dreadful, opposite of that very enjoyable speckling rain storm we all love every once in a while, and no one has stepped foot in this place since I flipped the sign to open.

The entrance bell sounds, and I find myself speechless, and appalled, as I take in the very familiar face.

Fuck, not him.

He smiles his charming smile, and approaches the counter, pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

"Can I get a black coffee, please?" I nod, and silently enter his order into the register, jumping slightly as the drawer slides open.

He hands me the money, absinthe filled eyes lingering on my face longer then they need to.

They must be absinthe infused, because I'm hallucinating a world where he fucks me raw.

No, stop it!

I haven't wasted the last four years of my life deciding that I hate him, only to soften up when he reenters casually.

I accept the cash, and hand him his receipt with a forced smile, before turning to pour his coffee, hoping to god he doesn't recognize me.

"(Y/N)? Is that you?" I groan internally.... Because fuck me, is this bad timing.

"I don't know, is it?" I roll my eyes at him, because I'm not necessarily happy with him to be true, and hand him his cup.

"Yes-"

"Then why are you asking things you already know the answer to?" It's been four years since I saw him last, and I find my anger completely plausible considering he broke up with my sister three days after our little encounter, not to mention the fact that he kept my thirty dollar panties.

"What's your problem?" I scoff, and throw my head back in irritation. Has he no fucking idea the large mess he had made of my life? I was a horny, sixteen year old girl who craved his very touch every day for the rest of that year. Which in turn explains why I was instantly infuriated when my sister came to the house, ranting about how he ran off with some slut less than a week later.

"It's nothing." I shake my head, and place my palms flat on the marble counter, "Have a lovely day." My tone is effortless, and I can't help the frown that etches it's way onto my face.

"You too." He sounds upset, and stays in the same spot for a brief minute, until he's making his way out the door and into the chilling cold.

I only have an hour and a half till my shift is up, thank god, I could really use some solitude, or for lack of a better description, non-pressured peace and quiet.