mikiueda
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Harry gets into an accident. Wakes up with half his memories and one very specific request: Zayn.
Zayn, who he hasn’t spoken to in years.
Zayn, who agrees to let him stay — just until the snow melts.Just until the memories come back.
Bookmarked by mikiueda
14 Jul 2025
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Harry has had a crush on his older brother’s best friend Zayn since he was a kid. Now he’s eighteen, and suddenly after a hot summer’s day of swimming lessons, Zayn seems to be determined to become his personal angel of sex, appearing in Harry’s room night after night to take his breath away, along with a few other things. But what does Harry really want, not that deep down? Is it just sex for Zayn? Why do they never talk about it?
Bookmarked by mikiueda
11 Oct 2024
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I Would Lay My Armor Down by estrella30
Fandoms: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
05 Dec 2017
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Heard about you and Gigi, the text reads. Zayn stares at the words on the screen and in his head he can hear Harry’s slow drawl. Can almost see the dimple sinking into his cheek, his eyes, big and wide and green.
So sorry. Hope you’re all right
All my love
Zayn stares at it while his heart thumps heavy in his chest. He doesn’t understand how a string of numbers and letters on a screen could paralyze him like this, but they do. His face is hot and his ears ring. Stitch nips at Zayn’s hand. The movement startles him out of the fog he’d slipped into, and he taps his thumb against the screen and without missing a breath, swipes across and deletes the message.
OR - current canon fic where Harry and Zayn try to work out their issues
Bookmarked by mikiueda
06 Sep 2021
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"I was gonna, like… Try something. Maybe.”
“Try something like what?” Zayn asks. “What have you even got left to try? Ladies’ pants? Bondage?”
“Something like that. No though, like. With a bloke,” Harry says.
Blankly, Zayn repeats, “With a bloke.”
Bookmarked by mikiueda
13 Aug 2021
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He doesn’t remember the first time Harry kissed him. It might have been at the bungalow, an empty vodka bottle spinning between five scared-shitless boys who knew nothing about anything at all. It might have been in a dark hotel room with the television glowing red-hot and grimy, spilling shadows between the wet space of their mouths. It might have been on the bus, on that couch, four in the morning with their eyes half-closed and Harry’s laptop ebbing Patsy Cline like a third pair of eyes.
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A night in New York.
Bookmarked by mikiueda
06 Aug 2021