Harry Styles Imagines

You Cook Breakfast (Harry's P.O.V.)

I watched (Y\N) begin unwrapping a package of blueberry Pop Tarts-the only thing she can cook.

She rarely cooks, and usually has me do it. She didn't know how to cook, and didn't care much for learning how to.

She was wearing nothing but my Ramones T-Shirt she looks so good in.

I leaned against the living room door frame, my eyes scanning up and down (Y/N)'s half naked body.

Damn she was gorgeous. How'd I end up with such a beautiful, talented, caring wife?

I made my way into the kitchen where she continued making breakfast.

I snaked my arms around her waist and kissed the back of her neck.

"Good morning Styles, nice of you to finally wake up." She joked, giggling quietly to herself.

"Hey! I was dreaming about you, love." I said mysteriously.

She turned around towards me, a grin plastered on her face.

"What about me?" She asked.

"Well let's see if I can remember..." I stalled, building anticipation.

"Well we were in a kitchen...one that looked a lot like this one. You were in that Ramones T-Shirt that drives me crazy."

She glanced down at the T-Shirt, a smile coming to her lips.

"What else happened in this 'dream'?"

"Hmmmm......I picked you up and set you on the counter." I easily pulled her up onto the counter, pressing my face close to hers.

"And then, I kissed you. Like this." I aggressively began kissing her.

My hands roamed up and down her back, and her smaller ones found my butt.

She kissed my neck, clear down to my stomach, leaving my skin feeling hot.

She slid my pajama bottoms off, then I did the same with her shirt.

She ran her fingers through my hair as she stuck her tongue in my mouth, searching for dorm thing unknown.

"God, I love it when you cook." I managed to say in between kisses.