harry styles one shots

butterfly (au)

request: have you ever thought about doing another supernatural au/series/blurb/story, but y/n is the supernatural character? it could be whatever you want, but it might be nice to see that shift in dynamic!

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It had been a long week.

Harry tried his best to eradicate thoughts from each inconvenience and fuck up the past seven days had offered him as he packed his backpack. Although he failed miserably on that front, it only pushed him to pack up faster, gathering each small thing he needed for his sunny hike. All week, he had fantasized during his hours at his desk about when he would finally be able to slip away and conveniently lose cell service while he indulged in fresh air and sunshine on a hiking trail he had been itching to explore. He even planned to have a small picnic once he reached the picturesque meadow that was broken off the main path—a quiet, little known place his co-worker, Adam, had shared the knowledge of with him.

When he finally arrived at the mouth of the trail, his backpack filled with water and his small picnic tucked into the bottom slung over his shoulder, he was much too excited to be completely cut off the from the world for the rest of the day. The trek through the wooded area was cleansing, each breath of sun-scented oxygen and whiff of flora that hit him was enough to act like a drug to help him forget the rough week he was leaving behind. The trail wasn't busy at all, not the kind of outcome he had been expecting with how wonderful the weather was, but he'd take it; he'd take the solitude he found in the barren trail where his only companions were the shrubs dotted with flowers by his feet and the skittering of small animals he heard in the trees above his head.

But, nothing could compare to the feeling that swathed over him when he stepped foot into the forgotten meadow. Adam had given him perfect directions ("make a sharp left when you see that big tree that has a knot in the shape of a heart, then go straight until you see the bunny burrow, then go a little to your right and if you see those purple wildflowers that look like lavender but aren't, go straight from there, and you're in!") He hadn't been kidding when he had boasted about how beautiful it was, Harry could have argued it was a movie set with how perfect the entire scene was. He carefully stepped into the lush of the green grass that colored the clearing, the hue only broken by the countless bushels of wildflowers that acted as stars in the pastel sky of the meadow. The centerpiece of the clearing was a completely unperturbed willow tree smack in the middle. The vines draped themselves freely over the winding branches, allowing large shafts of light to peek through the flora and create flower shaped shadows on the grass below.

If he hadn't been there himself, Harry would have thought it was all fake; some revolutionary kind of photoshop that looked so real but too perfect to be anything of the sort. This place couldn't be of this realm. This couldn't be of the same universe that had granted such an awful week.

But, god, was he happy to be here.

He reveled in the clean sunlight that bathed his body as he approached the willow. Once under the shade of the nurturing vines, he settled against the trunk and pulled out the items he'd brought along with him: a paperback copy of a romantic novel he'd been dying to crack the binding of since he bought it last week, his worn journal, and the homemade picnic he had tucked away at the very bottom.

With a small Tupperware container of sugared strawberries by his side, Harry opened his previously untouched book to the first page. It was all too easy for him to lose himself in the literature as he absently snacked on the fruit beside him, each bite sweeter than the last. A world not unlike the one he found himself in that day was being crafted from the words on the page, capturing his attention until the strawberries ran out and an afternoon breeze blew through the tranquil meadow.