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finelinefae · 2 months

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the aviator [pilot!harry x teacher!yn]

synopsis: It’s the 1950s. Harry is the best pilot on the Air Force base and y/n is a teacher at a nursery.

word count: 8.5k

contains: fluff, flirting, opposites attract, bad boy/good girl dynamic, Harry has a southern accent, alcohol, smoking, allusions to childhood trauma

This is part 1 of a new series that will probably have 3-ish parts !!

. . .

Offutt Air Force Base, situated in Omaha, Nebraska, housed thousands of civilians working in or connected to the military. People living in the nearby town would often hear the loud plane engines as they take off and land on the runway. They’d look out the windows of their home and see spitfires piloted by men undergoing training, executing missions, or just having a good time, even when they technically weren’t given permission.

“Wah Hooo!” The spitfire trembled as it finally landed on solid ground. Harry braced himself for the landing, pushing himself back against his seat to stop himself from jolting around. He did his best to hide his smile and remain nonchalant as he heard the familiar voices yelp in excitement as he landed the aircraft.

He removed his helmet and pushed the canopy of the cockpit open, leaping down and getting familiar with feeling the solid ground beneath his feet after being in the air. Two figures ran up to him, flailing their arms and screeching in excitement, “Tha’s what I’m talking about!” Harry opened his arms, unable to stop himself from laughing the two men almost knocked him over as they joined in a group hug.

“You flew her like a champ, H. Never seen anything like that in my life.” Harry looked into two sets of eyes an identical colour to his own.

Standing in front of him were his two brothers, Sonny and George. All three of them were pilots in the military and had been since they left school to sign up after the War. There wasn’t too much age difference between them which was probably one of the reasons the brothers were so close. Harry was the oldest, just over a year senior to George, who happened to be taller despite being the middle child, and Sonny was the youngest.

“Yeah well, she still needs some work. One of her engine cylinders is faulty.” The three of them walked side by side towards the maintenance shed. Despite their differences in height, anyone would assume the three brothers were triplets from how similar they looked. Most people on base knew them for their signature sea-glass green eyes and their brown hair.

“Oh I’ll go and tell Ruddy, he might still be here.” Sonny ran ahead

“Oh and Sonny,” Harry called for his younger brother, “Good job.” Harry winked at his younger brother, referring to his work on the plane he had just flown. In response, Sonny straightened his shoulders and smiled feeling proud after receiving a compliment from his older brother.

Harry and George both lit a cigarette each, pausing outside the door to the warehouse to smoke together. “I opened up a letter this morning from Ma.” George exhaled, smoke escaping past his lips.

Harry tried not to show his annoyance, “Wha’d she say?” He grumbled.

“She misses us… All of us and she wants us to stop by, come visit for dinner one day maybe.” George explained.

“Is she still with that old bastard?” Harry looked up at his younger brother.

George nodded, “Last time I heard.”

“Then we’re not going, none of us are.” Harry thought back to the last time he had allowed himself and his siblings to visit his mother. It was going well in the beginning, she’d cooked them up a roast pork and engaged in conversation, until their Father came home. It wasn’t long into their visit before they left the house and Sonny had gone home with a black eye whilst Harry had to get his hand stitched up at a hospital on the journey back.

Harry had grown up in Dallas, Texas, in a tacky old house that barely stood upright just on the outside of town. Whilst his Father was out working on a ranch somewhere and getting pissed up every night, Harry would spend most of his days keeping the house together whilst tending to his younger siblings. His mother was often somewhere in the house - nobody knew exactly what she was doing, since she wasn’t exactly all there half the time - but she was there.

Every visit they made back home was a reminder as to why they had entered the military in the first place. Whenever their mother would send them a letter, it was either because she wanted something or wanted them to come home so she could ask for that same something in person. The last time Harry had bought his siblings home was the first time in years. He thought his mother would be different yet he had no idea why - she was still letting that old man walk around as if he was the one who kept the house from falling.

“Sonny and I agreed you’re picking up Elise from nursery by the way,” George smirked, chucking his cigarette on the ground and putting it out with his foot.

“You and Sonny agreed that?” Harry frowned, receiving a nod from his brother, “I’ve been flying all day and y’ still want me to go pick up the baby?”

George clapped his older brother on the shoulder, “We’ve both got to help out in the warehouse this evening and besides, you’re Offutt's best pilot, I think you can handle picking up a two-year-old on the way home.”

Harry didn’t have time to argue with his brother as he stepped into the warehouse. He let out a deep sigh and took one puff of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground. He put his flight cap on his head to cover his messy hair and straightened his aviator jacket, walking towards the nursery.

. . .

“How have you found your first day Y/N?” Midge, one of the other nursery workers asked as they stood at the sink together to wash up some of the paint pots a few of the kids had been playing with in the afternoon.

“It’s been wonderful, Midge.” Y/N grinned. Although she was tired, she also felt ecstatic to finally be working again after months of searching for a new job. She had always been good with children thanks to her older sister having a kid of her own for her to babysit now and then. So when the opportunity arose to work a well-paying job at a nursery on the military base, she couldn’t pass it up. They’d even offer her free accommodation and discounted food for groceries which was perfect considering she didn’t have much of any of those things when she was living alone.

“I expect most of the kids will be getting picked up soon,” Midge glanced at the clock, “Everyone will be returning from work.”

Y/N hadn’t expected pick up time at the nursery to be so busy but fathers and mothers bustled in to pick up their children to take them home all at once. Once the majority of the kids had been picked up, Y/N glanced around to see the mess that had been left from the day that she’d have to clean up by herself. Her shoulders dropped as she landed on a small figure, realising she wasn’t completely alone yet.

“Elise, what are you doing?” Y/N smiled at the tiny girl playing in the corner, she was picking up picture books and flicking through them as if she were actually reading them. Y/N crouched down in front of the small toddler, “Are you enjoying those?”

Elise just grinned, picking something up with her small fingers and trying to put it in her mouth. Her brown, curly ringlets were no longer in uneven bunches like they had been this morning and her overalls were covered in food and paint stains. Y/N picked up the two-year-old to place in her lap, “Shall we read something before your dad comes to get you?” Elise babbled a reply.

Halfway through their fifth book, Elise was near enough asleep on Y/N’s lap. It had already been an hour since all of the other children went home and it wouldn’t be long before the sun would set. Y/N carefully picked Elise up so her head was on her shoulder and it was comfy enough to sleep as she stepped towards the telephone to see if Elise’s father was coming to pick her up.

As her hand went to pick up the telephone, a voice stopped her, “Hello?” It was deep and southern and husky like he had just smoked a cigarette or two, “I’m here to pick up Elise.”

Y/N turned around, and her breath caught in her throat as she spotted a tall figure leaning casually against the door frame. He wore a brown leather aviator jacket and grey trousers, with his flight cap tucked under his arm. His piercing green eyes, similar to Elise's, met hers, framed by brown curly hair. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips.

Y/N had never seen anyone like him in her entire life.

“Y-yes,” She cleared her throat and forced her eyes to look away from his intense gaze. She stood and walked over to where he stood by the door with Elise in his arms, “You must be Elise’s father.”

“M her brother,” He corrected.

“Excuse me?” Y/N wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly, too busy gawking at him to actually pay attention.

“M Elise’s brother, one out of three of her brothers to be exact.” He repeated, his eyes glancing at the sleeping girl Y/N was holding.

“O-oh,” She blushed, “My bad, you look so similar I thought you were her father.”

“Easy mistake,” Harry smirked, “Would you like me to take her from you?”

“Yes, of course,” Y/N gently removed Elise from her and passed her to Harry.

“There we go,” He cooed as Elise whimpered at the sudden movement, “There’s m’ little Elise.”

Y/N thought her ovaries might explode as she watched the pilot interact with the small girl in his arms, making sure she was comfortable enough so she could remain asleep. “Are you new here ma’am?” Harry spoke his focus now back on Y/N.

“Yes actually, today’s my first day here,” She explained.

“No wonder, I ain’t ever seen y’ around the place. How’re you liking it so far?”

“I’ve only been here a couple of days but it’s been nice. Working here at the nursery has been lovely too,”

“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curled, “I hope this one hasn’t been giving y’ much trouble. She can be a little devil with my younger brothers.”

Y/N immediately shook her head, “No, she’s been lovely honestly. Think I spent most of the day with Elise out of all the other children.”

Y/N noticed how Harry focused on her face as she spoke to him, every now and then his eyes would dart to her lips and then back up to meet her eyes, “Y got any friends here?”

She paused, “Any friends?”

“Yeah, you know,” He half smiled, it felt almost flirty but maybe Y/N was just imagining it, “People y’ like to hang out with.”

“Uh yeah, I share a house with a few of the girls who work in various places around the base. I get along with most of them and the ladies who work here at the nursery too.” Y/N explained, cringing at how awkward she was and how she’d probably be replaying this conversation back later only to die of embarrassment of all the things she said.

“Y’ know there’s a dance down at the community centre this Friday, y’ should come, oh and invite some of those friends of yours too.”

“Oh I don’t know, I think I’m working this Friday and-”

“A lot of my buddies who I fly with go there sometimes - a good time they said. It might be a good chance to meet some of the people here,” He shrugged, “Could offer y’ a dance or two if you’d like.”

Y/N wondered if all this was really happening right now or if she was just so tired that she was hallucinating, “O-okay,”

Harry grinned, a dimple carving into his cheek, “Well alright then,”

“Alright then,” Y/N tried to keep her smile at bay as she took it as his queue to leave. She kept the door open so he could easily step out as he walked backwards with Elise in his arms and his eyes still on Y/N even as he said nothing.

“So I’ll see y’ at the dance?”

“Maybe,” Y/N shrugged, even though she had already decided she was most definitely going to the dance.

“Alright, maybe I’ll see y’ at the dance then,” Harry responded with a light, amused chuckle.

Y/N watched as he turned his back and began to walk down the dirt road until he stopped briefly and spun around, “I didn’t catch y’name by the way,” He called out to her.

Y/N cupped her mouth, “It’s Y/N,”

“Y/N,” He said the name like he was testing how it sounded, “M Harry. Hey, I better see y’ at that dance Y/N, I don’t handle rejection all that well.” Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“I can believe that,” She yelled back.

“I’d say goodbye but I wanna see y’ at that dance so I’ll say goodnight instead.” Harry said with a casual salute before turning and continuing down the road.

Y/N shut the door and leaned against it, clutching her hands over her chest in complete disbelief. Her sister had warned her the pilots on the base would be young men near enough her own age and that she ought to be careful hanging around them. However, her sister hadn’t warned her that a man like Harry would stumble over to her workplace to pick up his sister and invite her to a dance on Friday night.

Y/N quickly cleaned up the nursery, shoving things into boxes and wiping down the tables, before grabbing her coat and running down the road to her house.

On every street on the housing estate, there was a row of houses that all looked the same but were owned by different types of people. Some had big families all living under one roof, others were men who lived alone. Y/N’s house was the first house on the street. It was a traditionally designed home with a pitched roof, a small front porch and symmetrical windows. She shared it with three other girls who all worked different jobs across the Air Force base.

The sun had already set by the time she entered the house. All the lights were turned on and the gentle music of Buddy Holly sounded from the living room. Y/N kicked off her heels and hung up her coat, walking to the living room where Patsy and Molly were lounging on the couch. Molly had Patsy’s foot in her lap as she painted her toenails a wine red.

Y/N collapsed on the couch next to Molly, “What’s wrong? Work not go so well?” Molly inquired.

“No,” Y/N huffed, resting her head on Molly’s shoulder, “It was wonderful.”

“Well, what’s got you so blue Peggy Sue,” Patsy questioned, her tone playful. She was reading a magazine and smoking a cigarette.

“A man came into work after everybody left to pick up one of the girls, Elise.” Y/N clarified.

“You mean Elise Styles?” Molly asked.

Y/N sat up, “Yes, you know her?”

“Just about every woman on this base knows her. She’s the Styles’ little sister.” Molly explained, “We’ve all had to babysit her at least once for those brothers.”

“Yeah and neither of us will be doing it again,” Patsy piped up, as if reminding Molly.

“Oh, you must know Harry then,” Molly paused, shoving Patsy’s foot off of her lap and turning to face Y/N.

“Is he the man you’re sighing over?” Patsy’s magazine fell to the floor as she too stopped to listen.

Y/N furrowed her brows, confused by their reaction, “Y-yes, what about him?”

“What about him?” Molly stood, grabbing a cigarette from the packet on the coffee table and lighting it up, “Y/N you oughta be careful around all three of those brothers but especially Harry.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N glanced at Patsy who nodded in agreement with Molly.

“That boy is not good news. He’s Offutt’s best pilot and he thinks that gives him the right to go around sniffing out every woman that steps foot onto this base.” Y/N frowns, watching as Molly begins to pace back and forth, “He didn’t ask you to go out with him did he?”

“Well he asked me to the dance on Friday. The one at the community centre.”

“Oh, I bet he did!’ Molly exclaimed, “Listen Y/N, I’m telling you this because I don’t want any trouble for you. That boy is no good, he’s slept with half the ladies residing here and even the wives too I bet! He asked Patsy to go out to dinner with him one night and stood her up to go see another woman.”

Y/N glanced at Patsy, “He was flirting with two different women inbetween the moment he asked and our date a week later.” She added.

“That’s right. Y/N darlin’, we shoulda warned y’ before y’ stepped foot out of this house this morning. Those Styles brothers will mess you around and leave y’ lonely for sport. You’re too nice to deserve all of that.”

Y/N's shoulders slumped, “But he seemed so… nice.” Y/N pictured Harry with Elise and how gentle he was with her.

“He’s not a bad person Y/N but when it comes to women, there’s no guessing what that man turns into.”

“Everyone’s heard plenty of things about why they came here too. If you ask me, his home wasn’t exactly a perfect example to him.” Patsy said.

“Well, whatever reason, best stay away from him.” Molly finished.

Y/N heaved a sigh, “So I shouldn’t go to the dance on Friday?”

“Oh no, we’ll go to the dance. Harry’s not the only fine, young pilot on base I’ll tell you that.” Molly smirked and Patsy cheered with excitement at the thought of going out Friday night.

Y/N attempted to smile, but she couldn't shake off the sadness upon realising that the man she had met earlier in the evening wasn't as kind as she had initially believed. Molly fell back onto the couch next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, “Cheer up sweet cheeks. I’m sure plenty of men will want to take you out after this dance.”

Y/N managed a weak smile, grateful for Molly's comforting presence. "Thanks, Molly," she murmured, leaning into her friend's embrace.

"Yeah, plenty of fish in the sea, darlin'. You'll find one that's worth your time." Patsy chimed in.

Feeling a bit more reassured by her friends' words, Y/N nodded. "You're right. I can’t let one bad apple ruin my night."

Molly squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "That's the spirit! Now let's focus on having a great time at the dance. We can tell you about some of the other fellas who live here too."

With her friends' support, Y/N felt an inkling of hope return. She might have been disappointed by one man, but she wasn't about to let it dampen her spirits for the rest of the evening. She was glad she told her friends about her interaction with Harry and now she was left with one rule stitched into the back of her mind.

Keep away from Harry Styles.

. . .

The night sky was clear enough to see the stars glittering against the pitch-black backdrop. A soft, gentle breeze flowed through the air as Harry lay back on the swinging chair on the front porch of the house he shared with his three brothers.

This was his favourite time of day when it was completely silent and the air was cool and crisp. He didn’t like the nights so much when he was living with his parents. After midnight, or sometimes just before, his father would come in through the backdoor stinking the place up with alcohol and waking everyone up with his nightly rampages.

Nowadays, the nighttime was the most relaxing part of the day and Harry savoured every second of it. He often finds himself sat out on the porch after putting Elise to bed. He’d smoke a cigarette or two, and maybe play his guitar a little bit.

Tonight felt a little different though. Whilst his brothers were upstairs trying to put a fussy Elise to bed after she’d napped when he brought her home from nursery, he came outside and could think of nothing but the woman he found holding his little sister in her arms.

Harry knew everyone on base the same way they knew him. He recognised faces easily and had at least one brief encounter with everyone he met in passing. However, the face he had met for the first time this evening was unfamiliar and new.

Her features were delicate and angelic, with large doe eyes that held a hint of shyness to them. A soft, rosy blush adorned her cheeks and her lips were full and plush that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of them. Her movements were gentle and her voice was airy and sweet, Harry thought of her stuttering and the way she’d blush whenever she spoke. He hadn’t seen anything like her in his life - he wasn’t a religious or spiritual person but, at that moment, he was pretty sure an angel had landed right in front of his very eyes.

Even her name sounded as though it came from some kind of mythical text - one full of beauty and purity, love and light.

Harry wasn’t the purist of men, far from it. He had slept in the beds of women he couldn’t remember the name of and indulged in his fair share of reckless behaviour. But in the presence of Y/N, he felt an unfamiliar stirring within him, a sense of longing tugging at his heartstrings. He didn’t know what it was and he wasn’t so sure he was ready to find out yet.

He lit a cigarette with a matchstick and exhaled into the air, tendrils of smoke dancing above him. The sound of footsteps thudding inside of the house as someone walked downstairs, broke the silence he had been basking in.

The door swung open and George stepped out, “Finally managed to get Elise to settle down though it took a whole round of nursery rhymes. Sonny’s still up there now, he’s afraid she’ll wake up again if he stops singing.” George took a cigarette from the pack Harry had in his pocket, “I thought you told those ladies at the nursery not to let her nap before she comes home.”

“I did,” Harry spoke, his voice husky.

“What? They didn’t listen to y’?” George chuckled.

“There’s a new worker. I’ll let her know next time I see her.” Harry hadn’t wanted to tell Y/N that Elise wasn’t allowed to sleep so late in the afternoon because it was harder to get her to go to bed at night. He didn’t seem to have the heart to as he watched her hold the small girl in her arms.

George scoffed, “A new worker? Is she a knockout at least?”

Harry didn’t reply, instead asking, “What do y’ think about the three of us going to the dance at the Community Centre on Friday?”

George laughed until he realised his brother wasn’t laughing with him, “You’re serious?”

The door swung open again and out stepped Sonny, “I swear if that baby wakes up, you two can sit in there and dance circles around her singing Miss Muffet for all I care. I ain’t doing that again.” He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, “Can y’ pass me a cigarette, George?”

George handed the cigarette to Sonny, “Hey Sonny, Harry wants to know if we’ll go to the dance at the Community Centre this Friday.”

Sonny chuckled but that quickly went away, “Oh shit really?”

“Yeah tha’s what I thought,” George said.

“You got your eye on someone Harry?” Sonny spoke, “Is it that girl from the med centre? She sure is something.”

Harry sat up and turned to face his two brothers, “No, it’s not that,” He lied, “Jus’ thought we could go do something other than sit around and drink at the bar.”

“But the dance?” Sonny quirked a brow, “You hate dances.”

“I never said that,” Harry said, even though he always made it known how much he hated the dances they held every Friday night.

“No, I definitely think I remember y’ saying dances were for people who wanted to get laid but couldn’t,” George spoke, backing up his younger brother who nodded in agreement.

“Alright,” Harry held his hands up, “Alright maybe I did say that. C’mon, what are you, Gunther and Francis? Sit down the pair of you.” They followed their older brother's orders, sitting on the seats opposite him. “Maybe there is a girl.” He sighed.

“Oh yeah?” Sonny smirked.

“Yeah, little shit,” Harry chuckled, “So if you could both do me a favour and get yourselves cleaned up Friday night because we’re going to a shitty dance and I won’t be having either of y’ covered in grease and soot.”

“Okay, alright, H.” George took a puff of his cigarette, “But you’re paying for drinks after.” Harry shook his head, unable to suppress a chuckle.

. . .

Y/N stood in front of her bedroom mirror when Friday night rolled around. She had left the nursery in a hurry, needing as much time as possible to get ready for the dance at the Community Centre. She had been wracked with nerves all week, knowing there was a high chance she would see Harry there and she’d have to do her best to ignore him like Molly had told her to.

She had picked out her outfit the night before. It was one of her best dresses- a lovely duck egg blue, satin fabric with a fitted bodice and a sweetheart neckline that showed off her decolletage. From the waist, the skirt flowed down in a full, flared A-line silhouette, gently swaying with every step. She wore white low heels on her feet and decided to carry a small purse with her too.

Most of her time in the evening was spent on her hair and makeup. Y/N had almost used an entire can of hairspray to ensure her hair would stay intact the whole night. Molly had even given her a French manicure the night before and she spent the whole day at the nursery trying her best not to ruin her perfectly shaped nails.

It had been a long time since she had put this much effort into going somewhere and it was all for a measly dance. There would be many other pretty girls who had spent more or less time on dressing up who probably had a better chance of catching the eye of a man than Y/N did. Yet she wasn’t hoping for the attention of just any man.

Even though Molly and Patsy had warned her of Harry’s nature, she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled and the sound of his voice as he spoke in that deep, southern drawl. Every time she thought of going to the dance, he would appear in her mind. Maybe she didn’t necessarily want anything from him but she wanted to at least catch his eye enough to make a lasting impression on him.

Y/N applied a little more powder to her nose and did one final check in the mirror. She straightened her shoulders, “This will have to do,” She muttered, grabbing her purse.

Patsy and Molly were already downstairs drinking margaritas and listening to Frank Sinatra on the record player. “Oh and another one comes to join us,” Molly grinned, wearing a navy, spotty dress with a red belt wrapped around her small waist.

“What took you so long?” Patsy grinned, pouring a drink in a martini glass and handing it to Y/N.

“O-oh no thank you, I don’t drink.” Y/N shook her head and forced a smile out of politeness.

“What? You don’t?” Patsy replied like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Oh c’mon! Just one little sip - liquid courage and all that.” Molly took the glass from Patsy to give to Y/N who forced herself to take it from her. She held the glass to her lips, taking one small sip and feeling a tiny burn from the alcohol.

“Good right?” Molly smirked, lighting a cigarette and holding the packet open to Y/N.

“No thank you, I don’t smoke either.” Y/N laughs nervously.

“Fair enough,” Molly shrugs, passing the pack over to Patsy who happily takes one for herself.

Y/N places her drink on the table, knowing she won’t be touching it again. “We’ll be heading out in a moment, we’re just waiting on one more.” As if she could hear them talking about her, footsteps thumped down the stairs and into the living room.

Y/N’s eyes widened when her eyes landed on the tall, blonde standing in the doorway. She was wearing a black dress with a neckline that showed off her bust and a tight waistline that accentuated her curves. The strands of her golden, blonde hair were tied back into a high ponytail with her fringe perfectly curled. She wore red lipstick on her plump lips which made the blue in her eyes even brighter than they already were.

“You’ve been in your room for hours, Nancy,” Patsy whined.

“Yes well, I don’t just plan on getting wasted tonight Patsy.” Nancy retorted.

Nancy was Y/N's other housemate, but Y/N didn't know her as well as she knew Patsy and Molly. Even though they lived together, Nancy seemed a bit distant compared to the latter two, who were friendly and nice. Nancy would smile politely, but she didn't say much else. Oftentimes, Y/N would get a strange feeling about Nancy like how she would make little comments that seemed to be jabs masked by forced politeness or how sometimes it felt like Nancy enjoyed pointing out Y/N's mistakes, like how she did her laundry or what groceries she bought. She wasn’t sure what she had done to upset Nancy but Y/N hoped it was just her over-thinking that made her believe she was this way and that tonight would allow them to get to know each other a little better.

Nancy’s eyes fell on Y/N and looked her up and down, “Nice dress,” She said, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.

“Thank you,” Y/N offered her a smile but received nothing in return.

“Alright ladies,” Molly stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray, “Let’s go catch us a few good men.”

“A few?” Patsy giggled.

“You’re right, I think a few is a little too much for this place.” Molly huffed and led the way out of the house and towards the community centre.

Y/N could hear the live music coming from the centre as they walked down the street. Patsy and Molly were stumbling ahead, arms linked together as they laughed side by side. Y/N tried not to laugh at her friends as she walked alongside Nancy.

“You planning on hooking up with anybody tonight?” Nancy’s voice broke the silence between them.

“No I don’t think so,” Y/N replies.

Nancy scoffs, “These dances are mostly for that you know, better prepare yourself when a fella tries to talk to you.”

“You think they’ll want to?” Y/N asked, hopeful.

Nancy glanced at her, “I’m sure they’ll snatch you right up those pilot boys.”

Y/N blushes, “Is there anyone you’ve got your eyes on tonight Nancy?” She liked this, conversing with Nancy. She hoped this would be the start of breaking the ice between them and maybe they could become friends eventually, or at least build acquaintances.

Nancy smirks, “Only one.” She said nothing after that.

The girls walked into the community centre which was already full of people from all over the airbase. A live band was playing Elvis Presley songs, the music blaring into Y/N’s ears once they stepped inside. “Any of you girls want a drink-”

“Molly is that Everett?” Patsy pointed to a man in the corner, talking to a woman.

Molly’s face scrunched up, “I guess he’s back from Italy.”

Nancy interrupted the conversation, her eyes darting across the room like she was searching for somebody, “You girls grab something to drink, I’m just going to use the bathroom.”

“Who’s Everett?” Y/N asked Patsy as they walked towards the drinks table.

“A guy Molly had a thing with last year,” Patsy explained.

“Yeah until he told me he was going to Italy for a year and wanted to break things off so he could get laid by an Italian woman.” Molly ranted, leading the girls to the drinks table.

A bowl of punch resided in the centre of the table, Molly grabbed the ladle and poured them all a drink. Y/N took a sip and allowed her eyes to scan the room. Couples were dancing in the centre whilst others spoke in groups off to the side.

Eventually, her eyes caught sight of a group of men walking through the door. Each one of them was dressed in a similar uniform, a navy blue tailored jacket and matching, fitted trousers. She watched as an entire group of them continued to flood in through the doors until the last man stepped through.

He was wearing the same uniform as the others and his hair was gelled back with one curl falling in front of his forehead, unlike the messy curls she had seen when they first met. Y/N couldn’t help but stare as he weaved through the crowd and interacted with people as he walked past them. Everyone seemed to know him from the looks of it. He exuded confidence and bravado, people’s faces lighting up whenever he stopped to talk to them.

“Patsy?” One of the boys spoke.

“Here we go,” Molly muttered, forcing a smile.

A man with features that looked similar to the man Y/N had been eyeing, walked up to them with a taller man following him. “Hi Sonny,” Patsy greeted.

“Y’ sure know how to make yourself look good when you want to,” He winked, eyeing her up and down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Patsy put both her hands on her waist.

“You know what I mean,” Sonny argued, realising he might have said something to offend her even though he had no idea what that might be.

“Hi,” The taller man behind him spoke. Y/N looked up and was met with familiar green eyes except they were a little bit lighter than the ones she had seen.

“Hi,” Y/N blushed.

“I’m George. Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.” He wondered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder to the crowd as he spoke.

“Y-Yes, I arrived recently actually. I just started working at the nursery.” She clarified.

“Oh, the nursery! You must know my little sister Elise.” Y/N’s lips turned upwards thinking of the little girl she had been spending so much time with over the last few days. Since her first day, Elise had constantly been wanting her attention whether it was to nap or play with things or read books. “You must have met my older brother then.”

“Older brother?” Y/N didn’t have enough time to register as George glanced around the room and called out his brother’s name.

“Harry, c’mere!” He called.

Harry’s head turned towards them in the middle of his conversation. His eyes landed on his brother until they found hers. He offered a small smile and began to walk towards them with a drink already in his hand, “This is one of the new workers at Elise’s nursery.” George introduced even though he didn’t really need to.

“Yes, we’ve already met,” Harry said and Y/N thought she might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sound of his voice. “Hi there,”

“Hello,” Y/N smiled, shyly.

“So you came?” He teased.

“I did.” She laughed, lightly.

“And these are y’ friends?” He looked to Patsy and Molly who were bickering with Sonny who seemed to have said something else to offend them, George now joining in on the argument as he let Harry and Y/N talk.

“Yeah, they’re my friends,” Y/N said, feeling nervous under his gaze. But despite her nerves, she couldn't deny the thrill of being the focus of his attention.

“Good to know,” He murmured, “Y come here with anyone else?”

"Um, no, just the girls from my house," Y/N stuttered, feeling a rush of nerves as Harry's gaze lingered on her. "I don't know that many people. Other than the girls I live with and the ones from the nursery, who are all lovely, by the way," she added, her words tumbling out in a nervous ramble.

Harry grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement at her flustered state. "You know me too," he stated, his tone playful as he leaned in closer.

Y/N gulped the air she breathed just as the lights in the centre dimmed. The fast-paced music began to slow down and couples gathered to the dance floor to slow dance together. “Y wanna dance with me Y/N?” Harry asked.

“I-I’m not very good at it,” Y/N smiled sheepishly, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. It was impossible to resist the charm that radiated from him.

He held out the palm of his hand and Y/N’s lips parted as she glanced down at it, “S just swaying tha’s all. Think y’ can do that?”

Y/N hesitantly nodded, her pulse quickening as Harry's long fingers gently wrapped around her wrist. A tingling sensation danced across her skin, sending shivers down her spine and causing goosebumps to rise in response to his touch. He led her to the centre of the dancefloor and turned around so they were face to face. Harry took both of Y/N's hands in his own, his touch sending electric currents coursing through her veins. With a tender yet confident touch, he trailed his fingers down her arms, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. As his hands settled at her waist, Y/N's breath turned shallow, her heart racing as the music floated through the air.

She was stiff at first, unable to relax until he leant forward and whispered, “Relax birdy,” She felt his breath against her neck as he spoke. He squeezed her waist a little and she dropped her shoulders, trying her best to loosen up under the circumstances.

“Birdy?” Y/N spoke, questioning the new nickname.

“I spotted y’ as soon as I stepped through the door. Your dress is blue ‘n it reminded me of the bluebirds I used to see back home whenever I’d go up in the mountains with my grandpa.” He explained.

“I didn’t know you’d seen me.”

“I searched for y’ as soon as I walked in. I only came because of you, if I couldn’t find y’ I’d probably just turn back and go to a bar or something.” He chuckled and Y/N laughed with him.

“No Elise?” She questioned, unable to stop herself from asking about the little girl she had become fond of.

“Elise is staying with the family next door. Little rascal tried to get ketchup on my uniform,” He rolled his eyes, “I got a free house if that’s what you’re implying though.”

Y/N’s face turned beat red, “N-No that’s not what I’m implying at all.”

“M just messin’” Harry grinned, cheekily.

Y/N relaxed, composing herself and trying to pull herself together, “I’ve heard things about you, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry smirked, “What things?”

“Just things.” Y/N felt his fingertips press her skin for a moment.

“And do you believe these things?” Harry murmured, leaning in a little closer.

Y/N looked him in the eye, trying to see if she could read him without having to ask him a thousand questions, “I don’t know yet.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by the sudden change in music and the lights turning on above them. People cheered as they gathered back into big groups and began dancing again. Harry bit back a grin, shaking his head, “Y wanna come outside with me?” He asked, shouting over the loud music. Y/N bit her lip and nodded, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to pull her through the crowd of people.

The air was cold once they stepped outside. Harry led her over to a small bench nearby where fewer people were gathered. He pulled out a cigarette and offered her the pack, “Oh no thank you, I don’t smoke.” She declined, politely.

Harry smiled around his cigarette, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a beat or two as he casually slipped the pack into the pocket of his trousers. The air between them was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of music drifting from inside the centre. Sensing Y/N's slight shiver, Harry swiftly removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders without saying a word.

"But you'll get cold," Y/N protested, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Don't y’ worry about me. I don't get cold," Harry quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he shrugged off her concern. His white t-shirt revealed toned arms adorned with a few tattoos littering his tanned skin.

As Harry tilted his head back to blow smoke into the night air, Y/N couldn't help but admire the way he carried himself with effortless confidence. Gathering her courage, she decided to strike up a conversation.

"Were those your brothers back there?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Yeah, Sonny and George," Harry confirmed with a hint of pride in his voice.

"They look so much like you," Y/N remarked, her curiosity piqued.

"Strong genes, I suppose," Harry shrugged, his tone becoming more serious as he opened up about his family background.

"What about you? Do you have any siblings?" He inquired.

"Just an older sister and my little niece, Rosie Jean," Y/N replied, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she thought of her family.

"And your parents?" Harry pressed, his gaze intense as he studied her reaction.

"My parents are doctors, they work at a surgery in town," Y/N explained, feeling a pang of homesickness as she reminisced about her upbringing.

"And yours?" She prompted, turning the conversation back to Harry.

"M parents are nobodies," Harry's voice took on a sombre tone, clearly his family life was a sensitive topic. Sensing his discomfort, Y/N chose her next words carefully.

"What about Elise?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood with talk of his sister.

"Elise is better off being raised by us three than being left alone in a house with batshit crazy," Harry scoffed, his protective instincts kicking in.

Feeling the weight of their conversation, Y/N searched for a way to lift Harry's spirits. "What made you want to be a pilot?" she asked, genuinely interested.

“Sonny came home wanting to sign up for cadet training after they visited his school. He came home running through the doors with a flyer in his hand and told everybody he was going into the army. I told him ‘No brother of mine is going anywhere that requires trench foot and guns.’ He didn’t talk to me for a week after that. It wasn’t until I found an advertisement where y’ could train to fly planes when I decided I was gonna make a better life for myself and my siblings. It just so happened Sonny and George wouldn’t let me go at it alone.” He inhaled his cigarette before tossing it to the ground.

As Harry shared the story of how he and his brothers found their way to Offutt, Y/N couldn't help but admire his determination. She found herself drawn to him even more, captivated by his strength and the way he always included his brother’s in everything he spoke about.

A comfortable silence settled between them. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as Harry smoothly slid his hand next to hers, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through her.

"Have I told y’ how beautiful y’look tonight?" Harry's voice was soft, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her heart race.

Y/N blushed at his compliment, unable to tear her eyes away from his. "You're lying," she protested, feeling a surge of warmth spread through her cheeks.

"I swear it," Harry insisted, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Swear on m’ life, birdy."

Y/N's heart fluttered at the nickname, a secret thrill running through her as she turned to face him. His eyes held a tenderness that melted her defences, and she found herself smiling back at him.

"Hi, birdy," Harry murmured, a dimple appearing on his cheek as he leaned in closer.

"Hi, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she savoured the moment.

Harry's shoulders dropped and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though he seemed to be fighting to contain it. “I can’t lie to y’ birdy, I can’t stop thinking about kissing you,” Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing at his words. “I was gonna lie and tell y’ I’d been thinking about it since I saw you tonight but… quite honestly, I think I've been dreaming of y’ since I met y’ the other day.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say, she felt as though someone had put a zipper straight across her mouth and she couldn’t get it to open. All she could feel was every muscle in her body beating against her skin as though they were trying to force her to surge forward and kiss him herself. “Y-You can if you want,” She stuttered, cheeks pink.

Harry laughed, “What about if you want? Can’t go kissin’ y’ if y’ don’t want it birdy.”

“I do want it,” Y/N nodded.

“Yeah?” He spoke but it came out more like a whisper.

“Yeah.” Y/N gulped, feeling nervous.

Harry didn’t hesitate once the word had left her mouth. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss, soft and exploratory. Y/N's heart fluttered as she melted into the warmth of Harry's embrace, her senses flooded with the taste of his lips and the scent of his cedarwood cologne.

Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment, their kisses deepening with each passing second. Harry's arms wrapped around Y/N, pulling her as close to him as possible.

In that instant, everything else faded away—the noise of the party, the chill of the night air—leaving only the two of them, lost in the heat of their first kiss.

They were both breathless as they pulled apart. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to find Harry already looking at her, his eyes filled with emotion and intense desire. She noticed his tongue poke out to lick his bottom lip and she couldn’t help but giggle when she noticed the red lipstick stain she had left on his mouth from her kiss.

“Where abouts do you live?” Harry murmured.

“Clemon Street,” Y/N spoke, her voice coming out a whisper.

“Yeah? That’s on my way home,” He grinned.

“Oh really?” Y/N bit back a laugh, “I thought y’ lived on Newark Street - it said so in Elise’s file.”

Harry shrugged, “I like to go the long way round.” Y/N didn’t bother pulling him up on the fact that the two streets were on opposite ends of the housing estate.

“Can I walk y’ home?” He asked, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of her dress.

Y/N nodded, biting her bottom lip, “Yeah I’d like that.”

Harry grinned, “Well alright then.”

They stood up, Y/N keeping his jacket around her shoulders since it was still cold out, “I’ve just got to go to the bathroom,” She motioned towards the community centre.

“I’ll wait for y’ at the door,” He said, following her as they walked to the community centre side by side. Y/N walked up to the steps and opened the door, she looked over her shoulder to make sure Harry was still there- that he was real and not just someone she dreamt up.

Harry caught her eye, “M not going anywhere birdy,” he winked, “hurry up so I can walk y’ home and kiss y’ again.”

Y/N laughed and hurried straight to the bathroom. Once inside, she closed the cubicle door behind her and sank down onto the lid of the toilet seat, a wide grin spreading across her face. Unable to contain her excitement, she let out a delighted squeal, her mind buzzing with thoughts of the moment she had just shared.

She pulled out the pocket mirror from her bag and quickly reapplied the lipstick that had been smeared off. She fluffed up her hair with her hands and rubbed her aching cheeks from where had been smiling so much. She stood up and held Harry’s coat in her arms. As Y/N stepped outside the community centre, she scanned the area in search of Harry, hoping to catch a glimpse of him waiting for her. Her anticipation turned to disappointment when she couldn't spot him anywhere, and her shoulders slumped slightly in resignation. Just as she was about to turn away, a figure caught her eye—a silhouette that had a striking resemblance to Harry—standing in a shadowy corner illuminated by the lights from the community centre.

Heart fluttering with excitement, Y/N smiled and took a step forward, eager to walk home with him. However, her joy quickly turned to dismay when she realised he wasn't alone.

A sudden giggle pierced the air, causing Y/N's heart to sink. Molly's warning appeared typed out in big letters at the forefront of her mind, filling her with regret and dread as she hesitated, frozen in place. With each step she took closer, the scene before her unfolded—it was Nancy, her housemate, clinging to the man she had just kissed.

I imagine George to be Callum Turner and Sonny to be Timothee Chalamet specifically from ms stevens but you can imagine whoever you’d like ! <;33

1K notes · View notes

allthelovehes · 8 months

Text

Unholy*

Summary: You follow a course through your job and the teacher who's giving the course is everything you've ever dreamed of.

Pairing: teacher!harry x reader

Word count: 6.2K

Warnings: Pussy eating, protective sex, squirting, p in v.

A/N: This is partially based on a true story. Nearly everything but the smut is what actually happened and I just had to write it.

Ever since starting your new job, you must attend an internal program at headquarters for three-ish months, completely designed to train you for all the ins and outs of your position. It’s not like you have to go there every single week. But you have a perfect little schedule; you go to headquarters two weeks in a row, two days a week followed by a week where you practice all you’ve learned. Then two weeks of your training, two days a week and you repeat it over and over again for 11 weeks total.

Since headquarters is an hour and fifteen-minute drive from your home, they offer you to stay the night at a hotel near them so you don’t have to keep on driving back and forth. They also pay for your dinner in the restaurant of the hotel and since you’re not the only student taking the course who lives relatively far away, you made some friends and all eat together. After dinner, you all hang out, down a few more glasses of chardonnay, and have a great night.

The course itself is presented by two men, Chris and Harry. Chris is a couple of years older than you are and Harry is roughly the same age. Both of them are a treat to look at so whether you like the course or not, there’s always something interesting to occupy your brain with. Although if you’re truly honest, you do have a favorite and it gets worse when the end of the three months is in sight.

***

It’s the second to last week of your program. Normally you travel by train, read a book while you’re at it, and enjoy the peaceful start of your day. But today was different, you’re a bit in a hurry and decide to take your car and make the long ride yourself. Putting up some music and singing along at the top of your lungs.

Traffic isn’t as bad as you expected and instead of being stuck in your car for over two hours, it only took one and half hours. Normally the route is packed with traffic, causing a lot of slow-riding cars and traffic jams. But again, today was different.

Being 55 minutes early before the start of your training, you’re left with some more time to yourself. The book you normally would read on the train is in your bag anyway. So you grab a cup of coffee, pull the book out of your bag, and start reading to somehow still get a bit of the quiet morning you’re used to.

You just finished reading your chapter when the door of the room swings open. You look up and your eyes meet the pretty green eyes you’ve grown to adore. You never imagined you’d still crush as hard at 26 as you did at 16. It’s like the teen inside you is awakened by Harry’s chocolate curls, green eyes, and puffy lips.

“Good morning!” You greet him.

“Good morning. You’re early!” He chirps with a warm smile on his face. He always seems cheerful, just happy to be here. It makes you feel so welcome in this company. “How long have you been here for?” He adds.

“Not more than 15 minutes I think, honestly didn’t really track time.” You answer.

“Did the elevator work when you got here? I just had to climb the stairs.” He continues, there’s not even a shortness of breath even though he just climbed all 17 flights of stairs to reach the level on which the company is located.

“You’re kidding! How are you still breathing?” You joke, but you’re actually not kidding. If you had to walk all those stairs, you’d be out of breath by the time you reach the 5th floor. Harry however just laughs at your statement before he puts down his backpack behind his desk.

He made up this little routine of settling down for the day. First, he places down his backpack and takes out his laptop. Then he opens his laptop to boot it before he pulls his sweater over his head. This man doesn’t like to wear coats, he just puts a sweater on top of his outfit and uses that to keep himself warm.

You thought you sort of removed him from your mind after not seeing him for a couple of weeks. Harry went on a well-deserved vacation and Chris took over during that time. So the last time you actually saw Harry was 5 weeks ago. But the second he pulled that sweater of his over his head, pulling his shirt a tiny bit upwards in the process had you melting right in front of him. The waistband of his boxers peeks out from his pants. You immediately recognize the brand he’s wearing by the colorful print on them. And let’s not even get started about his delicious happy trail. It’s a good thing his view is blocked by the fabric of his sweater because you for sure are struggling to keep your eyes to yourself.

“So, would you like some coffee?” He suggests as he folds his sweater over the back of his chair. You’re quick to agree on his offer. “Cappuccino right?”

“Yes, please! I’m surprised you remember how I like my coffee.” You giggle, feeling a blush creep upon your cheeks.

***

Throughout the entire day, you can’t help but notice how Harry’s eyes meet yours a lot more often than he does with your classmates. Whenever you look at him, his eyes are already on yours. He compliments you when you’re working on assignments and you just feel like there’s a mutual connection there.

His distance to headquarters is even bigger than yours, so they offered him a similar deal as they did you. If he has to work multiple days in a row, he can stay the night in between in the same hotel as you all do. He gladly took upon the offer, for him it’s at least a two-hour ride home and that’s if he doesn’t include traffic. And since he works 5 days a week, it’ll save him a lot of time.

During the lunch break, you and your friends are making plans for the evening. Many of your nights in the hotel are spent drinking some wine and just catching up with each other. And today’s plans are like no other. Harry can’t help but overhear you guys talking about the hotel and starts bragging about the room they gave him.

“I slept in room 405 last week. Apparently, all rooms on the fourth floor are deluxe rooms with a bathtub, double bed instead of a twin bed, and a filled mini fridge.” He joins your conversation, immediately planting the idea of asking for room 405 when you check into the hotel later today.

“I never had a bathtub during any of my stays. But all six times I slept in that hotel, I never slept on the fourth floor.” You reply.

“Don’t worry, you’re not missing out. The tubs are too small anyways.” He reassures.

“Your legs are just too long to properly fit into any tub.” You pointed out.

***

All of you enjoy your dinner together. Harry is always left at work for a bit longer after you’re done with the class so he can prepare for the next day or finish up some other leftover work. And to the question of whether he will join you all at the dining table, his answer is always the same. “If I make it in time, I’ll happily join.”

And today was one of the days he made it in time. He sits next to you in the only chair that’s unoccupied. Your friend shoots a glance at you, and that’s when you realize she made sure you sat next to the empty spot.

All of you welcome him to the table before starting small talk.

“Oh, by the way, Harry, I meant to thank you for your advice.” You start causing a confused look on the man’s face.

“My advice?” He asks. “What did I tell you?”

“When I was checking in I asked for room 405 and now I ended up in a deluxe room just like you told us about earlier today.” You giggle.

“Hold on, what room are you in??” He asks, clearly even more confused than he was at the beginning of this conversation.

“407.”

“Ah, right! You got me confused for a second as I am booked in room 405 again.” He explains. “So, we’re practically neighbors!”

Your brain spins a bit at how coincidentally it is of you asking for the exact room Harry is in. And on top of that, you are indeed practically neighbors. Suddenly you feel glad that you aren’t actual neighbors for the night, cause the rooms are very noisy and there’s a dividing door between every other room, allowing them to connect two rooms if needed. You’re not sure what your nighttime activities will turn into, once you’re left alone in your hotel room with just your unholy thoughts of the man next to you.

Your food gets served, you and Harry both choose a different dish. He chose the tilapia filet and you went for a steak. Both are served with some veggies and fries.

“That steak looks good.” He says as he puts a bit of fish into his mouth.

“Would you like to try some?” You ask him to which he agrees. His fork is all covered in the sauce that comes with the fish. So, you cut off a piece of steak and hold your fork out for him to take it. He hums softly as the taste of the steak hits his tastebuds, sending vibrations through your fork.

Harry insists on you trying some of his fish too. So he cuts a piece of, similar as to how you did it and holds his fork out for you to try it.

You’re not much of a fish eater but you can see how people like this particular dish. It’s good as far as how good fish get.

***

After hanging out with your friends on the terras, drinking some wine. All of you decide to call it a night. It’s nearly 11 p.m., and all of you need to be up bright and early the next day for your course.

You hop into the elevator together, all of you pressing different buttons for different floors. Soon enough you’re the last one standing as you’re the only one whose hotel room is located on the top floor, and Harry’s of course.

Your pace slows down when you reach room 405. A deep voice is heard on the other side of the door. This confirms your suspicions, Harry is still up. It seems like he is currently on the phone with someone as a one-sided conversation is heard from his room. You decide not to snoop around, for all you know he’ll walk out the door any second and see you lingering around his door. That’d be weird.

Once you reach your door, you open it with the card and enter the room. You were smart enough to turn on the air conditioning before heading down for dinner so the room was cooled perfectly.

You let yourself fall backward on your bed with a deep sigh. This massive crush on what essentially is your teacher was unexpected. And now you’re full of nerves, jitter, and a lot of unholy thoughts to think about.

You open up your book and try to set your mind in another direction. You have to face the man you’re thinking about tomorrow and above all you need to be able to concentrate.

After 45 minutes of reading your mind is still on the one topic it was before. So the plan to distract yourself failed miserably. The only other option you can consider is taking a cold shower, cause there’s no way in hell you can masturbate to the thought of him and look him in the eye tomorrow.

You hop into the shower. You start at your regular temperature and decrease the temperature with small steps to end with a cold shower. Your hands travel over your body and you notice how sensitive your skin is. You take some soap and spread it all over your skin. Once your hands reach your breasts you give some extra attention to your achy nipples, pinching them between your fingers. You moan softly, god that feels good.

You realize what you’re doing and stop immediately, turning the water ever colder causing you to nearly squeal at the temperature. You step out of the shower and wrap a towel around your body.

As soon as you’re all dried up, you crawl back into your bed and grab your phone to scroll mindlessly through TikTok. First, you clear your notifications but you notice one particular Instagram notification that catches your eye.

harrystyles liked your story 8m ago

It’s fucking past midnight, what is this man liking your Instagram story for?? As if you weren’t thinking about him enough already.

You decide to get out of bed and go outside for a little midnight stroll. The cool and fresh air will do you good. You take your AirPods out of your bag so you can listen to some music while you're at it.

You’ve been walking for about 25 minutes when you step back into the elevator and press the button to the fourth floor. Harry has finally disappeared from your mind, I mean, he’s still there but just less present. You are tired and just need your sleep.

Room 407 is two-thirds down the hall, luckily the floor is covered with carpet so your feet don’t make as much sound. You don’t want to wake anyone up at this ungodly hour. Nerves kick back in the closer you get to room 405. What if he’s still awake, or what if you woke him up when your door fell closed on your way out?

The sound of a door opening is heard and you’re too afraid to take your eyes off the floor. It takes every bit of strength in you to lift your head up, but when you finally do, your eyes are met with the ones you’ve been thinking about all night. He’s changed out of his dress pants and blouse and into a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants.

“Oh, hi.” You mumble. Fuck, you think. You did wake him up on your way out. And now he’s here to complain about it.

“Hi.” He replies in a whisper. Harry heard you walk through the hallway, at least he was hoping it was you. But now that he’s standing eye to eye with you, he suddenly becomes nervous and doesn��t know what to say.

“I hope I didn’t wake you up when I left my room.” You apologize.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve been struggling to fall asleep anyway.” “Yeah, me too. I’m gonna go give it another try though.” You point to your door, gesturing for you to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait!” Harry whisper-yells. “I- uhm. Do yo- uh.” He stumbles over his words. You turn your body back to him, looking at him with your big eyes.

“Do you wanna come with me to my room?” He finally asks and he holds out his hand for you to grab. You’re taken by surprise but after looking at him for a bit too long you grab his hand with a little nod and let him lead the way.

He closes his fingers around yours and takes a couple of steps back to his room, opening the door with his room key. He steps inside the room, holds the door open, and pulls you in by your hand. The door is slammed closed right after you’re through the opening and Harry's strong arms push you against the door.

“Hi.” He says giddy when looking at your lips, earning a smile from you.

“Oh fuck, just kiss me already.” You demand, and he is eager to please.

His lips crash onto yours and his tongue slips inside your mouth. He’s gentle but demanding, it’s nothing like you ever thought it would be. This kiss makes you realize what people mean by melting when they’re being kissed. It’s like every inch of your body becomes one with his.

Your fingers graze his hair, pulling him closer as his hands find their place on your hips. He pushes his body flush against yours, earning a moan from your lips. The fingers of his right hand sneak under the hem of your shirt to dig into your skin.

He pulls away after what feels like minutes of making out, panting slightly. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt and he looks down.

“Can I?” He asks to which you agree. Your shirt is pulled over your head in a swift motion, revealing your peach-coloured bra. Suddenly you feel glad you decided to put on a bra when you went for a walk because you nearly decided to not wear one.

“Fuck.” He moans at the sight of you. His hand comes up to cup your left breast through the padding of your bra. “You’re so beautiful.” He kisses your neck, up to your ear. You gain confidence from his words and let your hands travel over his chest, down his sides all the way to the hem of his own shirt. You look him in the eyes for permission.

“Do it.” He whispers in your ear while he keeps on kissing every inch of your ear, neck, and jawline. You pull the shirt over his head revealing his perfect abs. You can’t help but put one hand flat on his stomach to feel his muscles and moan softly. Your eyes meet his and he has a beautiful smile plastered across his lips.

His lips are back on yours and his fingers hook in the waistband of your jeans. He’s greedy to get you out of your clothes as soon as possible. He opens the button. His left hand grabs your face and he kisses you passionately on your lips as he puts his right hand in the back of your jeans to squeeze your bum.

“Hmm, you feel so good.” He squeezes your flesh one more time before he pushes the fabric over your ass. You step out of your jeans and push him further into the room. Your lips reconnect.

Harry leads you to the chair in the corner of the room and pushes you down in the chair. Your eyes fall down his body and stay glued to the tent starting to form in his sweatpants. His fingers wrap underneath your chin to pull your face up.

“Eyes up here, baby.” He says. He spreads your legs to stand in between them and strokes his hand over your inner thighs, to your stomach, and up to your lips. He puts his thumb against your lips with his fingers resting on your cheek. You open your lips and softly suck on his thumb getting it slightly moist.

He takes his finger back out of your mouth and his hands explore down to your chest. Both hands grab one boob each and massage your skin through your bra. He makes sure to flick his thumbs over your hardening nipples every now and then.

You sink further down into the chair, practically laying on your back with your bum on the edge of the seat. Your feet are tucked around his waist and your legs are spread open to reveal your clothed crotch. Harry is standing right in front of the chair, causing his crotch to gaze over your most sensitive spot when he moves close enough.

You moan at the pressure he’s applying to your chest. His big hands fit perfectly around your tits and it’s all you’ve been thinking about. Well, not all, but you get the point.

He pulls down the cups of your bra, to expose your breasts. Your nipples are hard and needy. His lips attach to your right nipple to suck on them before he lets go and gently strokes his fingers down your stomach, back towards your inner thighs. The soft touch of his fingertips tickles, sending a buzzing feeling straight to your clit.

He kneels in front of the chair you’re sitting on and wraps his hands around your waist. He places a couple of kisses on your thighs, right next to your core. But never touching where you need it most. He’s making you all needy, drawing moan after moan.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Harry asks. But the view in front of him already gives him the answer he is looking for. You’re dripping through your panties, completely ruining them and every touch is rewarded with another moan coming from your lips.

“Mhm, fuck yes.” You half moan.

Harry finally places a kiss on the wet spot forming on your panties. You immediately put your hand in his hair. After a few more open-mouthed kisses on top of the fabric, he finally pulls them to the side. He lets out a low moan at the sight and smell in front of him.

He attaches his lips to your core, leaving another open-mouthed kiss on your labia before he sucks the juices into his mouth. Another loud moan escapes his lips, you’re sure anyone who’d walk by would be able to hear the both of you.

“You taste so fucking good, baby.” Harry moans. He pushes your panties further to the side and you help him hold them there, giving him full access to taste every single inch of you. He licks up from your bottom all the way to your clit and you can’t help but whine. He continues to gently lick around your clitoris, making sure not to apply too much pressure at once. It feels like pure ecstasy.

His hands stroke the insides of your thighs again while they travel to your core. With two hands, he spreads you open to allow him to stick his tongue inside of you. He pushes in and out of you a few times before his tongue travels back to your clit. Licking and sucking softly, building up the pressure. He for sure is taking his time with you. His eyes are locked on yours to gauge what you like and don’t like. But so far you seem to have entered another world. With your left hand locked in his hair and your head thrown back.

Harry starts to put more pressure on your clit with his tongue making you all squirmish. Your soft moans go up in loudness. His lips leave your clit but his finger is quick to stroke circles around it before he inserts his finger into your pussy hitting you right on that spongy part. His finger pushes in and out of you and his tongue gently swipes from left to right.

He applies even more pressure to your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud every now and then. His one finger inside of you pumps in and out, building up a faster pace. More juices start to spill from your pussy so he licks from down all the way up to your clit again to collect your wetness and slurp it all up. It’s a sign you’re coming close to your orgasm. Your legs start shaking around his shoulders and he continues his work, going faster and sucking harder.

Soon you can’t contain your moans and your orgasm hits you harder than it has ever done before. Harry’s fingers don’t seem to slow down though, and his tongue is still attached to your sensitive clit. Your moans turn into high-pitched whines mixed with curse words falling from your lips.

“Fucking hell, please” You moan, trying to push his face away from your cunt. His finger falls from your pussy and he softly caresses your mount with a flat hand, his lips are still attached to your clit but he stopped sucking as he moans loudly. The vibrations of the sounds he’s making shoot right through your body. He completely removes his face from you and wipes the wetness from his chin.

“God, I wanna do that again. You sound so fucking pretty.” He tells you before he connects his lips to yours. The tangy taste of yourself is all you can focus on, making you feel dizzy.

Harry looks you up and down. He gets up off his knees so he can finally drop his sweats to the floor. The erection in his loose-fit boxers makes you curious, but it gives you a good idea of how big he is.

He holds out his hand for you to help you get up from the chair. His arms wrap around your body once you’re on your feet and he kisses you deeply. His hands take hold underneath your bum.

“Jump.” He commands and you listen without a second thought. You wrap your arms around his middle and his erection softly presses into your core. You moan and nestle your face into his neck. Your hips try to grind down on him, although you’re not as successful as you’d hoped. Harry walks to the end of the bed to place you down.

“Let’s get you out of these.” You say as you put your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. You pull them down so he can step out of them. He pushes you on your shoulders, tipping you over so you’re lying on your back and his hands hold your knees to spread them open again. With one hand he pumps his cock a few times and with the other, he pushes your panties back to the side before he pushes the tip of his cock through your folds.

“Shit, a condom.” He curses. “I don’t know if I have one.” He says honestly. It’s not like he thought he was getting laid during his work trip so he didn’t pack any. He rushes to his wallet in hopes of finding one in there. He opens the coin section and is happy to be greeted by a silver foil. He takes it out before he returns to you and puts on the protection.

He goes back to what he started. He rubs the tip of his now rubber-covered cock over your clit, stimulating the sensitive nub. You immediately are a moany-mess again before he slides his tip down and inters your cunt. He pushes in and out, going deeper with every thrust. His thrusts are gentle as he knows you’re close to being overstimulated.

His hands hold your thighs down before he starts moving back and forth at a faster pace. He bends down to attack your right nipple with his mouth. He sucks sharply and licks over the hard bump.

The bed starts squeaking loudly when he holds you down around your hips to be able to fuck up into you faster. His skin slaps against yours making the most erotic sounds audible in the hallway and possibly in the neighboring rooms.

Harry wraps his hand around your neck, not really applying pressure but just holding you in place as he trusts into you slower but with more power. Smacking his pelvis against your clit with every trust. Your panties slipped back down covering half your labia again.

“Let’s get these out of the way.” You laugh. Harry pulls out so you’re able to remove your underwear but he’s back inside of you as soon as possible. He’s bucking up, trying to hit your G-spot every time he pushes in. And he knows he’s doing a good job as your moans went up a pitch again.

He grabs your hips and keeps fucking you hitting your G-spot hard every, single, time. The trusts change from hard and deep to soft and fast. Giving you a whole other sensation. He keeps switching between the two different paces until he finds you squirming underneath him again. He bucks his hips hard and deep into you and after a few more trusts you reach your second orgasm, screaming and squirting all over him.

You were about to apologize but Harry has already attached his lips to your cunt to lick up all the leftover juices. He’s moaning loudly as he’s trying to clean you up. Your own moans become quieter and turn into soft hums as you nestle your hand into his hair, grabbing him tightly.

He starts assaulting your clit like he used to when you were sitting in the chair. His tongue is doing wonders on your overstimulated clit and it only takes a couple of strokes of his wet muscle to get you to reach your height again. This time however it feels shorter and less intensive, but still your moans picked up again. It’s like music to Harry’s ears.

“Fuck, Y/N, you are so fucking perfect.” He moans, kissing you sloppily. His hips meet yours and both of you hum to the feeling. Harry takes a hold of his cock and guides it back inside of you. His hips grind over yours, giving you way too much stimulation but god does it feel good.

He places his left foot on the bed next to your bum and starts pounding into you. He puts one of his hands on top of your mouth as you can’t contain any of the sounds you’re making. Harry knows it’s already too late when it comes to waking up the neighbors but he doesn’t wanna keep bothering them all night.

Never have you been fucked this hard, fast, and deep all at the same time. It’s starting to feel overwhelming and you can’t stop whining at how good you feel. Harry keeps miraculously pounding into you as he starts to moan loudly himself as well.

His moans send shivers down your spine, he sounds otherworldly. The deeper his moans get, the sloppier his trusts become. He spills all of his cum inside of the condom before his moans quiet down and he pulls out. He’s panting loudly and he gently swats the back of your thigh twice. He rubs his cock up and down your pussy one more time before he kneels down again and licks your pussy clean.

“Stay where you are.” He says and places a quick kiss on your lips. He walks to the bathroom to toss the condom and grab a damp towel to properly clean you up. He dabs the lukewarm towel to your overstimulated core and softly strokes the fabric down once or twice. He puts the towel down on the floor where all of your juices squirted in an attempt to minimize the mess.

“There, now let’s get comfy.” He says and gets into bed. “Do you want a shirt?” He asks to which you nod. He gets up to grab his white tee from before and hands it to you. It smells deliciously like his skin in the best way possible. You put it on and it reaches up to your upper thigh.

Harry lays back down in bed and you crawl next to him. He naturally opens his arms for you to cuddle up to him.

“I‘ve never been fucked that good.” You chuckle as you take a deep breath. The room smells and looks like sex but neither of you seems to care.

“Hmm, you felt so good.” Harry’s ego boosts at your comment. And if he’s honest, he’s never been with someone he enjoyed so much and he simply can’t wait to do it again. “I hope you’re going to stay the rest of the night, right?” He asks.

“I didn’t plan on getting up, I’m way too comfortable here.” You reply to which Harry only pulls you in closer. He places a soft kiss on your forehead with a soft hum.

“Goodnight, baby.” He whispers to which you answer a simple goodnight.

***

You wake up the next morning with Harry’s body wrapped around yours. The sound of your alarm was ringing from the nightstand. It’s a good thing you charged your phone last night when you were trying to sleep otherwise it would’ve been out of power and therefore not been awakened.

“What time is it?” Harry asks, his voice low and sexy as he’d just woken up.

“7:30.” You answer, to which he shoots up.

“Shit, I forgot to set my alarm. I need to be at work in an hour.” He sighs, but actually, he doesn’t really care. He has the most beautiful girl lying in his bed, breakfast can wait for once and he can also head to work half an hour later, he already prepared everything for today anyway.

He lays back down and rolls on his side to face you.

“Hi.” He says.

“Hi.” You reply, and both of you laugh softly.

“So, I hope you have no regrets from last night. I didn’t mean to push you into anything you didn’t want.” Harry says, to which you take his face between your hands to pull him closer. You connect your lips to his.

“Not one single bit.” You reply before Harry deepens the kiss. His cock is already hard, as most men wake up with an erect member. But the beautiful girl in his T-shirt next to him is making him lose his mind.

His hands travel down her side and cup her pussy. One finger gently slides between her already damp lips and rubs circles around her clit.

“Har, we don’t have time for this.” You whine and he knows you're right. He sighs before he takes his fingers back from your pussy and licks the tip of his finger clean.

“I’m sorry. You’re just irresistible.” He flirts.

“It’s gonna be a long day then.” You joke, neither of you had thought about having to go through today and act like nothing has happened.

“We’ll see about that.” He argues as if he doesn’t think there’s going to be a lot of tension. “Let’s just get ready for breakfast.” He says and gets out of bed to get dressed.

You sit up and think for a bit. All your stuff is two rooms down the hall and you don’t feel like getting into your nasty clothes from the day before, especially those panties which are ruined.

“Can I borrow your sweatpants for a bit?” You ask Harry. “I need to go to my room to get ready.” You explain. He grabs his sweats off the floor and hands them to you. You’re now wearing the complete outfit Harry was wearing when he pulled you into his room.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes.” You say before kissing him once again and head out to your own room.

You took a quick shower to rinse off the sweat of the night before, brushed your teeth, and got dressed in a fresh set of clothing.

When you’re all set and ready, you grab your room key and exit your room. You walk the short distance down the hallway to Harry’s room and raise your hand to knock on his door but he already has it opened before your hand can hit the wood.

“Let’s go get some fuel.” He says and grabs you by your hand. He leads you all the way to the elevator. He pressed the button to the ground floor where the breakfast buffet was.

The elevator stops at the second floor. You quickly pull your hand back as you know there are classmates sleeping on that same floor. And since Harry and you haven’t discussed anything about how to move forward, you’d rather not get the confrontation in the middle of an elevator. However, luckily it wasn’t someone either of you knew.

Once the both of you enter the restaurant, Harry a few steps ahead of you, you notice all your classmates who also slept in the same hotel already sitting at your designated table.

“Wow Harry, we thought you had already left. You’ve never been this late before.” One of them recalls.

“Yeah, you’re always the first to eat and the first to leave.” Someone else joins in.

You don’t know where to look or what to say. It feels like getting caught as you are well aware of the reason why Harry hasn’t eaten yet. Both of you decide to go fill up a plate with a delicious breakfast and just try to ignore the comments.

“I feel like we’re already getting caught.” You tell him as you stand next to him putting some eggs on your plate.

“Don’t worry your pretty head over it, there’s no way for them to know.” He reassures.

You sit back at the table before Harry does. He’s in line for the coffee machine.

Your friend looks at you. “Spill. The. Tea.” She mouths so no one can hear, but you can see. You giggle to yourself and shake your head no. But she just knows something is up.

Harry walks back to the table with two cups of coffee. He puts the black coffee in front of himself and the cappuccino next to your plate.

“Thank you, ba-“ You quickly stopped saying what you wanted to say, hoping no one had noticed. You look around the table but there are no suspicious looks. Harry places his hand on your knee and squeezes softly.

“You’re welcome.” He says.

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

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ifancyharry · 8 months

Text

Routine - Bad Habit (3)

in which YN spends the night - officially - for the first time, but Harry's daughter isn't really happy about that; fluff; angst; smut; dad!harry

wc: 5.9k

can be read as a stand alone, but if you want to understand more read Bad Habit (1) and (2)

“Hi.” Harry greets her as soon as he opens the door, smiling the same smile YN has been in love with since she was 20 years old.

“Hi.” She repeats his word as a form of greeting, and despite the shortness of it, nothing needs to be added, because the excitement they both transpire can be felt in the air between them.

This would be the first time YN officially spent the night. Of course, she’d stayed over many times in the two months they had been dating, but never officially. She’d always leave before Aidi could find her tangled in Harry’s sheets, and it had been fine at first. She hated waking up early, but she’d do whatever she could to reassure Aidi’s well being.

YN doesn’t know why all of a sudden Harry was eager to invite her over. He told her he felt ready, and she had felt excited despite feeling the fear of how his daughter would react.

Harry told her that he wouldn’t tell her right away, YN would just stay over and they’d see from there how it went. Of course, his nonchalance hadn’t gone unnoticed by YN, that on the other hand felt nervous about it all and would’ve much rather he told Aidi she would at least spend the night. But, she figured, she wasn’t a parent, and she couldn’t possibly know what was best for Aidi, so she had agreed to follow his plan with enthusiasm.

“Everything okay?” He asks when he sees she hasn’t moved from her spot.

“Just a little bit nervous” she shrugs, tightening the grip around the handle of her duffle bag.

“I see I still have tha’ effect on yah?” He chuckles, opening his lips in a teasing smirk.

“Shut up! ‘S not because of you”

“I know” he says, and his eyes soften at the sight of the girl in front of him, all shy and anxious about something that he thinks is so natural. “‘M just teasing. Everything’s gonna be okay”

She sighs at his words and takes a step closer to him, “ugh, I know… just want it to be perfect”

“‘S already perfect with you here” he smiles, grabbing her upper arm and tugging her closer to him. He circles her back with his arm and squeezes her against his chest, holding her tight in a soothing embrace.

“You’re perfect” she sighs once again, inhaling the pleasing scent of his fabric softener lingering on his hoodie.

YN still can’t believe he is hers.

“C’mon let’s go inside, yeah?”

“Mmhmm” she nods against the fabric of his sweatshirt.

Once Harry closes the front door behind him, he takes YN’s duffle bag from her hands and tells her to follow him upstairs.

“Where’s Aidi?” She asks.

“In her room”

“Is she… does she know I’m here?”

She watches as he nods his head, and she wonders for a moment if there’s something wrong going on. Is Aidi upset? Is it too soon?

“Harry…” she whispers once they enter his room, “maybe it’s too soon. We should have-“

“YN.” He interrupts her, a serious look adorning his gentle features, “I told you already everything is fine.”

“Okay” she nods doubtfully, not really convinced by his words.

He tosses her bag on his bed and after he turns around to face her. He takes her hand in his and squeezes it to reassure her. He knows how she is. How much she worries, but that’s the very same reason why he’s so sure about this. He knows she cares about Aidi very much, and he thinks she’ll be good for his daughter, even if it takes her some time getting used to having another person around more.

YN follows Harry out of his room, and, once they reach Aidi’s door, she watches as he gently knocks on it.

“Aidi?” He asks, opening the door and peeking his head inside. “Hi bug” he says softly, and YN feels herself melt at the interaction. He’s so gentle, so sweet. He makes her feel warm, like the first spring sun shining on her skin after a cold winter.

He opens the door wider and YN spots Aidi laying on her bed, her ballerina bunny squeezed under her chin. She lights up as soon as she sees her dad, and she nods timidly when Harry asks her if she was asleep.

“I was really tired, daddy” she mumbles, knuckling at her eyes sleepily.

“Tha’s okay” he reassures. “‘S almost time to eat dinner”

YN watches from the door jamb, unsure on what to do. She doesn’t want to interfere in their moment, still feeling a bit unease at the situation.

“Do you want to say hi to YN?” Harry asks when Aidi gets up from the bed.

She shakes her head no. “I already said at school”.

YN bites hard on her bottom lip. She knew it would be hard.

Harry furrows his brows and looks at his daughter, confused by her behavior. She loves YN. She always talks about how nice she is and how she’s so happy she’s his friend so he doesn’t really know where this is coming from. He figures she’s just grumpy from being woken up.

YN, on the other hand, thinks this is going to be harder than they thought.

…

It’s a little bit later in the evening, and despite the abrupt start, things seem calmer now. Aidi had played with her dolls while she watched cartoons on the tv, and YN had helped Harry with setting the table for dinner.

She thinks it’s nice. Settling into a routine and sharing it with them. She’s always been kind of alone, and she’s always thought of herself as more of a loner, but maybe she’s been wrong all along and this is where she was actually destined to be.

“Aidi?” Harry calls from inside the kitchen.

YN smiles fondly once she sees Aidi walking towards them with a pep in her step, she seems fine, until Harry asks her what she wants to eat, because nothing seems of her liking.

“Noooo daddy I don’ like that!” she protests when Harry shows her the package of pasta he intended on cooking.

“But you’ve always liked it! You looove when granny makes it for yah!”

“Yeah” she gives him a firm nod, “but yeh’re not granny”

YN has to refrain herself from laughing at them. She wonders if she’s like this everyday or she’s putting on a show just because she’s there.

“Uggh fine, then. How about…” he looks through the cupboard to see what other thing he could cook, he picks up another package of pasta, shaped like butterflies this time, and holds it in front of her, but Aidi shakes her head disgusted once again.

He moves toward the fridge then, taking out some chicken and showing it to her, but “noooo” she protests.

“Wha’s gotten into yah!” He sighs discouraged.

“I’m sorry” he mouths to YN, to which she replies with a knowing smile.

Harry opens the door to the freezer and YN spots a package of chicken nuggets inside, and she points to them trying to hide her gesture from Aidi, not sure whether she could eat that kind of food.

“She usually doesn’t like them” he shrugs, but when he takes out the package to show it to her, Aidi starts jumping excitedly in her place, “yes! Yes! Daddy want them, pleaseee”.

“But-“ he’s about to protest, but he feels it’s actually pointless to argue with a child, so he sighs and: “fine!”

“Make them crispyyy please daddy” she says seriously, but when YN erupts in an uncontrolled laughter, Aidi starts giggling too.

Harry joins in on their laughter, but his is more of a disbelieving one, amazed by his daughter’s behavior.

Once dinner is ready, Harry, YN and Aidi all sit at the small table in the living room.

Harry fills his and YN’s glasses with the most prestigious red wine he had, and he serves first Aidi (the chicken nuggets with looots of ketchup), then YN (the special pasta his mother taught him to make and that’s the only fancy thing he knows how to make — but, honestly, YN was fine with everything. Even if it meant eating dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets).

The air around them is quiet, there’s a comfortable silence between them, and YN feels happy. Like she belongs. She looks at Aidi tenderly when she hears the quiet humming of what she recognizes is a cartoon’s theme song, and she watches as the little girl dips her nugget in what seems to be way too much ketchup for only a small piece, and when YN raises her glance from Aidi’s plate, she realizes Harry is looking at her with one of the softest looks on his face she’s ever seen. He smiles sweetly at her, but, as opposed to how he used to always avert his gaze when they were still in college — embarrassed she’d catch on the crush he’d always had on her, he doesn’t look away.

‘What?’ She mouths, worried she might have something on her face or that he wants to tell her something without his daughter hearing, but he just shakes his head.

‘Pretty’ he mouths back, and his eyes do that thing YN loves, they twinkle like the brightest of the lights, the warmest shade of green she’s ever seen, like the grass on a chilly spring day, the feeling of seeing a bit of color after months of whiteness.

She bushes and looks down at her plate, still not used to his cheeky compliments.

After dinner, Harry takes out of the fridge the ice cream YN had brought, and when he opens it, he smiles fondly when he realizes she picked Aidi’s favorite flavors: chocolate and strawberry. In the same bag, there’s another tub of ice cream, much smaller, and when he opens it, to his surprise, he sees his favorite flavor: mint chocolate chip.

He knows now she remembers their ice cream runs after a long day of studying, but he’s genuinely surprised she would after so many years, and he thinks it feels nice. It’s nice having someone take care of you, even if it only means picking up your and your daughter’s favorite flavors of ice cream.

He comes back in the living room with the ice cream and three small bowls, and he places them on the table.

“Look what YN got you!” He smiles excitedly, hoping to spark some excitement in his daughter, since she’d been pretty quiet all throughout dinner.

“Ice cream!” She lights up, but when Harry shows her the flavors, she makes a disgusted face and pushes the tub out of her face.

“I don’t like chocolate”

YN, that had watched the encounter proudly, feels her face fall. She thoroughly remembers Aidi loves chocolate ice cream. She’d told her many times in class, and it was what she had asked that day Harry forgot to pick her up and YN had brought her to eat ice cream to distract her. Maybe she remembers wrong? She feels herself panic inside, because how could she have gotten it wrong! She’d been so careful while picking.

“But ’s your favorite!” Harry stresses, his brows furrowing on his forehead.

YN feels a little bit relieved at his words. At least she hadn’t gotten it wrong.

“No, it’s not” she shakes her head, grimacing.

“I’m so sorry, YN. I don’t know wha’s gotten into her” he apologizes, sitting back down in his chair, his shoulder sagging, he feels undefeated.

There’s no way Aidi doesn’t like chocolate ice cream, because he remembers she ate it two days before at his sister’s house, but he chooses not to tell YN that to not aggravate the situation more. He knows this is silly, because it’s just ice cream, but it’s then he realizes maybe everything isn’t okay and Aidi isn’t comfortable with having YN here.

He’s unsure on what to do, feeling conflicted about the situation.

He knows he should put his daughter’s feelings before his, but he also cares about YN, and he doesn’t want to push her away.

“Harry” he hears YN interrupt his train of thoughts, “maybe I remembered wrong. It’s no problem at all! Do you like mint chip?” She asks Aidi the last part, and her voice is soft.

Aidi nods, “’s daddy’s favorite”

YN smiles at her and then throws a quick glance at Harry, “really? You both have great taste then! You share that with your daddy and I’ll eat the other one, okay?”

“Okay” Aidi nods once again and leans forward on the table to pick up the tub of ice cream. She shows it to Harry to signal she wants it in the bowl, and he consents quietly.

Harry — too — realizes this is going to be harder than he thought.

…

Harry feels bad. Tonight hasn’t been what he thought, at all.

He had planned in his mind all the nice and fun things he wanted to do with both YN and Aidi, and maybe, he realizes just now, he had been wrong to assume Aidi wanted to do that. He understands it’s always been them. Since she was born, it’s always been the two of them, tucked away safely in the walls of their home, and Harry understands how she could feel now that YN is here as well.

He just feels bad, because he’d like to do some of those things with YN too. He’d like to eat breakfast with them, he’d like to watch a movie and cuddle them both under his arms, he’d like to kiss both of them goodnight, he’d like to snuggle with them in his bed until it’s inevitably time to get up. But how can he? Aidi is little, and she doesn’t understand what it means to share.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” He hears YN gently ask, and he shifts his gaze from the tv to her.

Aidi wanted to watch the new Little Mermaid movie (her favorite of the week), and she had demanded her daddy watched too. YN hadn’t minded, and she sat contently next to them, but only half an hour into the movie, Aidi had fallen asleep against Harry’s chest, his shirt crumbled between her little fingers as she held onto him, almost scared he’d leave her to sleep alone.

Harry leans his head on the backrest of the couch, he then turns it and looks at YN fondly. She’s so pretty now, her hair frame her face perfectly, and the glasses on her nose make her face look softer.

He shakes his head, wary of what she could say if he voiced his thoughts aloud, and when he sees her brows close in a furrow, he averts his gaze, his face facing the ceiling as he closes his eyes.

“Hey” she whispers, careful not to wake Aidi sleeping in his lap. When she realizes he isn’t opening his eyes, she raises her arm and rests it next to his face on the back of the couch. With delicate fingers she caresses the tender skin of his neck, below his ear, where she hears his pulse quicken.

“Harry, hey” she repeats, hoping to gain his attention, but she may have been a little too loud, because Aidi stirs in his lap and opens her eyes slowly.

“Hi, bug” he smiles down at her, his expression changing as soon as she woke up. “Let’s get yah to bed, yeah?”

He stands up from the couch and props Aidi on his hip, caressing her back gently to lull her back to sleep.

She falls asleep on his shoulder almost immediately, and YN raises on her feet quickly, placing a gentle and quiet kiss on her hair. Harry smiles at her and informs her he’d be putting Aidi to bed in her room.

YN turns off the tv and picks up the throw blanket to fold it, when she’s done she puts it on the couch and makes her way upstairs towards Harry’s room.

She sits on his bed and she waits for him, her heart beating fast against her ribcage. She wonders if she should leave. Is that what Harry is so scared to tell her? She’s sure he realized too that Aidi wasn’t comfortable with YN staying over.

She hears the door close quietly and she looks up immediately. She can feel her heart in her throat, convinced he wants to send her away.

Maybe it’s too soon.

Maybe he doesn’t want a relationship with someone his daughter doesn’t like.

Whatever the reason will be, she’s sure this will be their final conversation.

“Hi” he interrupts her train of thoughts.

“Hi”.

He walks towards her and stops in front of her, sitting between her open legs.

“Harry -“ she starts saying, but he interrupts her quickly: “Baby, I’m so sorry”.

“What?” she asks confused, “why are you saying sorry?”

“I thought… today was supposed to be different” he sighs. He raises both of his hands and cradles her face in his palms, caressing the skin of her cheeks with his thumbs.

“I’m sorry” he repeats, “I wanted to make a nice dinner and maybe go for a walk, and… I don’t know, maybe watch a movie but…”

“But we did!” YN chimes in, bringing her hands up to squeeze his wrists, “it was perfect”

“I know but… Aidi…” he says, shaking his head, panic lacing his voice.

“You don’t think she’s happy…”

“It’s not that… I’m just scared. I didn’t think it would be this difficult” he sighs. He feels guilty, and if there was any way he could have this conversation with her without hurting her, he would. But YN has also taught him to communicate his feelings, and he couldn’t just not tell her what was going on in his mind, how scared he is for his daughter and to cause her pain.

“Oh Harry” she shakes her head against his hands, biting down on her bottom lip so hard she thinks she can taste the blood. “She’s just little, and not used to… all of this. I think you should talk to her.”

“I don’t know how” he looks at her pleadingly.

“Just say how you feel. Start from there. She’s the most wonderful kid I know, she will understand.”

It’s when she says things like these that Harry remembers why he is so sure about YN. She loves him, and perhaps she loves his daughter more than she loves him. Her presence is crucial in both of their lives, and Aidi needs to know her. She needs to be around her, because Harry thinks there’s a part of how YN loves that only she could teach, and he wants Aidi to learn, he wants her to see her dad happy, and he wants her to understand that love is really all that matters.

He gives her a small smile, not big enough to show the dimples YN really loves, but enough for her heart to tighten in her chest.

“Everything’s going to be fine.” She whispers, before tilting her head upwards and placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

He dips his head forward and deepens the kiss, sighing into her mouth.

Despite the heavy weight on his chest, he’s really happy she’s here.

Her lips are soft against his, and he wants to drink her in, drown in her taste, like the sweetest summer fruit.

Her hands make their way up his arms, her fingers dipping into the cotton of his shirt, and once she reaches his shoulders, she pushes him down against her.

They both fall on the bed, and with the way she’s kissing him, YN hopes she can reassure him. She hopes he understands she’s here now, and he doesn’t have to do it alone. His tongue caresses hers, and his hands are everywhere on her body, holding onto her skin desperately.

He settles between her legs, and pushes his hips forward when she bites his bottom lip, his erection pushing hard against her center where she needs him the most.

“Harry” she says as soon as he moves his head to kiss down her neck, “we shouldn’t. You’re upset” she breathes.

“Mmh” he whimpers against the skin of her neck, “please” he begs, “i need you. I need you so much.”

She tugs at his hear and he raises his head from her neck, the sight of him almost making YN cum on the spot.

As opposed to how he always is in bed, dark and dominant, he looks soft and pleading, his eyes big and veiled with lust, his lips wet with spit and a particular shade of red mixed with purple.

“You’re the only one that can make me feel better” he whispers looking directly into her eyes.

“Okay” she nods, “okay”.

Harry buries his head back onto her neck and kisses the skin there gently.

His hands travel down to her jeans and he quickly unbuttons them, tugging them down her legs and then throwing them on the floor.

His movements are frantic and eager, but everything about him is soft, from the way his hands caress the skin of her stomach to the way his fingers shift her panties to the side to expose her. He dips his thumb between her folds, rolling tight circles on her clit a couple times. She sighs heavily, and she has to refrain herself from moaning.

When he sees that she’s wet enough, he holds his weight with one arm and with the other he tugs his own jeans down, followed by his boxers right after.

When his cock is finally freed from its restraint, he doesn’t waste a second before he slides it between her folds, coating it with her juices. She brings a hand to his cheek and tilts his head up so he can look into her eyes when he slips inside of her.

“Oh” she whimpers, and he’s quick to swallow her sounds with his own mouth, sighing into her while his hips drill into her.

She feels warm against him, and he finally feels the comfort he’d been looking for.

With gentle fingers he raises the fabric of her t-shirt and exposes more of her skin, his hand resting against her ribcage, under her side boob. With his thumb he pushes her bra up and finally frees her tits, his head dipping down to kiss all over the new exposed skin.

He takes her right nipple into his mouth and sucks on it lightly, soothing it right after with his tongue.

“Please” she moans quietly, arching her back and pushing her tits into is mouth.

“Shh, baby” he giggles, leaving her boobs and going back to her mouth, “fuck” he whispers against her lips, “gonna make me cum already”

She clenches around him, flattered that she could make him reach his high so quickly.

“Baby I need you to cum” he says, and he brings a hand down between them, drawing tight circles on her clit. He knows she’s close by the way her walls clench around him, but he needs her to come before him, so he brings his mouth back on her nipple, the left one this time, and bites on it gently.

With the stimulation on her clit and now on her nipple, YN knows it’s going to take her seconds to cum, and she brings a hand to clasp against her mouth when he gives a particularly harsh thrust that makes her come on the spot. She sees stars and all her body trembles as Harry keeps moving his hips with the pace that made her cum, never taking his hand off her clit.

He parts from her nipple and when he sees her face beginning to contort in discomfort, he pulls his cock put of her and with a few tugs he comes against her stomach, his sticky liquid coming in spurts out of his slit.

“Fuck” he groans, giving another few thrusts against his hand.

When he’s done, he falls on the bed next to her, lifting his arm so she can squeezing in against his side.

She rests her head on his chest, and she can hear his heart beating hard against his chest. She almost falls asleep right there, lulled by the sound of his heart beating loud for her, but: “thank you. I love you”, he whispers against her hair delivering a soft kiss against her hairline.

She chuckles against the skin of his chest, placing a kiss there “i love you too”.

…

“I got more of that cream yeh like… the one made with wine”

They’re both still in their towel, the bathroom foggy from the steam of the hot water.

“Harry!!! Thank you!” She exclaims, “you didn’t have to” she beams at him, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth as he shows the cream to her.

“I wanted to” he smiles, leaning down to kiss the side of her head.

This is what he has longed for all his life, always feeling like there was something missing from him. The comfortableness of sharing his routine with the person he loves the most.

They stand side by side in front of the sink, their naked shoulders touching, and YN massages the cream onto her skin while Harry brushes his teeth.

When he’s done, YN hands him the cream and “want?”

He nods, and, “you put it for me” he says, closing his eyes immediately and bringing his hand up to swat away a couple of curls from his forehead.

YN grins widely and she sprinkles a little bit of cream on the palm of her fingers. She rubs them together to warm the cream, and then she raises on her tips to massage it onto Harry’s face.

She’s delicate in doing so, rubbing his cheeks gently and then under his eyes, his nose and all the way down to his chin. He looks serious but relaxed at the same time, and YN rubs at his temples a little to ease what could be left of the tension he felt before.

He sighs dreamily and once she’s done, she rubs the remaining cream on his neck, and then she places a kiss on his lips, “all done”.

“Thank you baby” he smiles, leaning down to give her another kiss. And another. And another, until she’s giggling against his lips.

“Shh” he shushes her, placing another soft kiss against her lips.

“I’m so tired” YN says, knuckling at her eyes.

“Yeah… let’s go to bed, yeah?”

Once they reach his room, they both slip into their pajamas and hurry to get to bed, the tiredness of the day catching up to the both of them.

YN asks what side of the bed Harry sleeps on (the one near the door) and YN gets in beside him. She can smell the fabric softener of his cleaned sheets (that Harry had changed before they got in the shower), and she burrows herself more into the comforter, hiding her face under it.

“Where are yah!” He whispers, and when he hears her giggle, he raises the comforter over his head and joins her under the covers.

“Hi” he says once he’s face to face with her, the mint scent of his toothpaste tickling her nose. She looks extremely soft, her skin dewy from the cream and her eyes droopy with sleep.

“Hi” she repeats, moving closer to him. She rests her head on the palm of her hand, and she looks up at him dreamily. Harry feels a little claustrophobic from the lack of oxygen and the heaviness of the comforter over their heads, but he has to admit it’s comforting, being with her like this. Close.

“Thank you for giving me this” she whispers, shifting her gaze form one of his eyes to the other.

She hopes he understands what she means, because YN doesn’t mean the cream, the dinner, or the sex. She means a family. A routine. Something to look forward to at the end of the day when she feels exhausted. She knows now as long as she has Harry and Aidi she will never feel alone, and she will never have to question herself, how she did all those years ago in college when she would wonder what was wrong with her that made her so unlovable.

…

The next morning, Harry wakes up at around seven o’clock, too early for a Saturday morning, and he casts a glare towards YN that is sleeping soundly next to him.

When he realizes what time it is by looking at his phone, he understands something is missing. Aidi isn’t awake.

She usually wakes him up at around half past six by jumping on his bed, and then falls asleep almost immediately on his chest, clutching her stuffed bunny protectively to her side.

The possibility that she’s still asleep is very slim, and he decides to check on her, not without leaving a kiss on YN’s head before.

When he reaches Aidi’s room, he opens the door and frowns sadly at his daughter. She’s awake, lying on her bed still under the covers, talking quietly with her stuffed bunny.

“Hi bug” he whispers, “g’morning!”

“Hi” she says in a small voice, but she doesn’t raise her gaze to look at him. He knows she’s still upset.

“Why didn’t y’come wake me up?”

When she shrugs, he walks towards her bed, and with his hand he gestures for her to scooch over a little so he can lay down next to her.

He lays his head on her pillow and looks at her. She’s still sleepy, her eyes laced with sleep and her hair ruffled and curly. Her pajama top has shifted a little to expose the soft skin of her tummy, and Harry adjusts it to cover her.

“Cinna” Harry addresses her stuffed bunny once he realizes Aidi doesn’t want to talk to him yet, “why’s Aidi sad?”

Aidi pets the bunny’s ears and keeps her eyes forward, not looking at her dad.

“Is it because YN is here?” He asks gently, whispering as if it was a secret between them.

Aidi wraps her small fingers around the bunny’s neck and makes it nod its head. Harry smiles sadly at her, his chest aching at the sight of his daughter hurting, and him being the cause of that pain.

His sudden reaction is to just reassure her and he wonders if YN would understand if he told her to wait a little before coming over again, but then he remembers what she told him: that Aidi is smart and she will understand if he talks about his feelings. He figures it’s worth a try.

So, “Come here, bug” he says, stretching out his arm so she can rest her head on his chest.

It takes a while to convince her but after a little bit she shifts and places her cheek on his chest, holding her bunny tight under her chin.

“My baby” he coos, petting the hair out of her face, “just because YN is here it doesn’t mean we can’t do what we always do!”

He hears her sigh loudly through her nose and he understands she isn’t really convinced by his words.

“It doesn’t change the love I have for you” he says, but she’s little, and he tells her he loves her everyday, so it doesn’t do very much.

“YN is really nice” he tries, “and she’s my friend. She’s funny and she loves ice cream. And she gives great cuddles. Like… great. Way better than I do, because she’s warm and she smells nice, like candy”

He hears her giggle at his words, so he keeps going, “and she makes me really happy” he coos.

“How much?” Aidi asks, her voice muffled from the cheek she has smushed against his shirt.

“Ooooh, like how much happy we are when granny comes over”

Aidi hums and raises her head from his chest to look at her daddy. She looks a little less sad now, her lips open in a small smile.

“And she loooooves bunnies. She has like three stuffed bunnies,” he smiles, and Aidi looks down at the bunny clasped in her small hand.

“Really?”

“Yeah… she actually asked me if you and Cinna’d like to meet ‘em?”

She nods her head eagerly, “maybe we could invite them over next time?” She asks doubtfully, almost shy, and Harry beams with pride upon seeing her reaction.

“‘f course bug!” He exclaims excitedly, circling her back with his arms and squeezing her against his chest. He tickles her back and she giggles uncontrollably, her laugh muffled from his shirt, “daddy stooop! Please daddy!”

He joins in on her laugh and he stops tickling her, squeezing her hard against his chest one last time.

“Is miss YN still asleep?” Aidi asks.

“Dunno,” he says, “do yeh want t’check?”

When she nods her head, he sits up on her bed and takes her in his arms, propping her on his hip and picking up her stuffed bunny.

They make their way towards Harry’s bedroom, and when they open the door, YN is still sound asleep under the duvet.

“She’s sleepin’” he whispers, and smiles when Aidi clasps her hand on his mouth, shushing him.

“Do yeh want t’sleep a little mo’?”

“Like always?” She asks, looking at him with big eyes.

“Yeah”

Aidi nods her head and points toward the bed with the hand that’s holding the bunny, “in here”.

“Okay” he nods amused.

He lays her down on the bed next to YN, tucking her under the covers, and then he scooches in next to them, shutting the small light on his bedside table.

“Harry?” He’s almost half asleep when he hears her small voice, and he opens his eyes tiredly to look at her.

“Everything’s okay?” YN asks, her voice laced with a bit of worry, that he’s quick to reassure.

“Yes. She wanted to sleep a little bit more”

“Okay.” She nods happily.

“Go back to sleep, darlin’. Everything’s perfect” he reassures, stretching a hand to caress her face.

He smiles fondly when she turns her head to kiss the skin of his wrist and then he lulls her back to sleep like he did with his daughter, petting her hair soothingly.

YN falls asleep almost immediately, and Aidi, too, is sleeping peacefully between them.

Harry, despite the tiredness, stays awake a little longer to look at both of his girls trough the dark, sleeping next to him, his heart growing in his chest every second he spends looking at them, and he wonders what they’re dreaming about, these two girls that in different ways gave him a reason to love again.

In the morning, he’ll be the last one to wake up, alone in his bed, and he’ll hear the laughter coming from the kitchen along with the sweet scent of pancakes and bacon. He will let Aidi tell him all about how YN really gives the best cuddles and smells of candy, and he will kiss YN tenderly on the head. Aidi will ask YN when she can meet her bunnies while she bites down on her Nutella pancake, and YN will say whenever her and Cinnabunny are ready.

And Harry will finally feel at peace in his routine. No pieces missing.

omg bad habit 3 is finally here 😭 i missed writing for them so much, they're all so cuteeeee ugh lmk if you liked it and if i should write more blurbs about them!!! love you all so much

#harry styles blurb #bad habit #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harrystyles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #teacher!yn #dad harry styles #dad!harry #harry x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles love on tour

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atlafan · 8 months

Text

This is the teacher that kids either love or hate, there’s no in between. Mr. Styles has his quirks, and according to your niece, you either get him or you don’t. The annoying thing is, Mr. Styles teaches all of the science electives like astronomy, astrophysics, forensic science, marine science, zoology, and meteorology. These aren’t required courses, but they’re only a semester long. After completing biology, students can either take a full year of chemistry and a full year of physics, or they can do a full year of chemistry or physics, and two science electives. Or they can do four science electives.

Mr. Styles also is the only AP Chemistry and AP Physics teacher. There’s really no avoiding him. Some students accept this, and others continue to live in denial.

Many students know their strengths and passions. They were made to be scientists. Your niece, who loves science, is taking as many courses as possible to help herself out for college later on. She’s in AP Chemistry with Mr. Styles, as well as forensic science. Your niece loved Mr. Styles until he gave her an F for missing an exam. She had been out sick. She had a note from her doctor and everything! Your niece blubbered to you about it.

You know Mr. Styles. You work at the same school as Mr. Styles. You’re the music teacher. You typically avoid Mr. Styles. You’re in a completely different area of the school. Many students complain about him, but just as many praise him. But this time it’s personal. He made your niece cry, at school! You told her she could stay in your office for a bit to calm down. You were marching your way to Mr. Styles’ classroom. You didn’t care if he was teaching. You were going to barge in.

When you get to his door, you see him sitting at his desk through the little window. It’s a prep period. When you giggle the handle of the door, it doesn’t turn. So, you pound on the door with your fist while Mr. Styles takes his sweet time coming to open it.

“Miss-“

“Don’t even address me right now, I’m too mad.”

“I don’t think I know you well enough for you to be venting to me about something.” He says as he closes the door. “But I guess I can listen since I have time.”

“I’m here because you’re being an asshole to my niece. She missed school because she was sick and you wouldn’t let her makeup a test. That’s against school policy.”

“Not with AP courses.” He crosses his arms over his chest. You can’t help but feel frazzled at his attire. The dichotomy of him wearing a Disney shirt about love while he’s scowling is is almost comical. “If a student is sick on the day of the exam, then that’s it. They fail. They don’t get to try again.”

“How is she going to get into a good school if she has an F on her transcript?!”

“She’s not going to fail the class. She knew I had a strict policy. Also, I put out exam dates well in advance. She knew what day it was going to be.”

“She was sick!”

“Was she vomiting uncontrollably? Was she coughing up blood? Was she bed ridden? If the answer is no to any of those, then she could have come in to take the exam.”

“Right, so then she could get all of the other kids sick?”

“Masks are a thing. Plenty of students still wear them in the classroom. She could have come in for the exam and then left afterwards. Why do you care so much? You’re not her legal guardian. Her parents haven’t emailed or called to complain. At the mandatory parents meeting I run at the beginning of the school, I make it clear to the parents that I am strict for a reason.”

“My sister and brother-in-law haven’t called to complain because they don’t know about any of this. She came crying to me because she has no idea how to tell them because she knows she’s going to be asked if she knew it was an exam day. Which she completely forgot because she was sick and her brain was foggy.”

“She’ll have opportunities to make up her grade. Her participation counts for a lot and she’s always participating.”

“You don’t understand mental instability these overachievers have. I’ve seen that girl cry over an A-. Shooting her in the stomach would hurt less than getting a bad grade. Do you get off on being a dick?”

“You know what? This is my prep period, and I was busy.”

“Yeah, your door was locked.” You scoff.

“I always lock it. I don’t like when people filter in and out during my prep.”

“What if a student had an emergency and needed you?! Why are you even a teacher if you don’t care about students?! Do you have any idea how hard these kids have it? They don’t even teach them how to use computers anymore! No one knows how to touch type! Everyone assumes they have it easy, but they don’t. A lot of kids come to school because it’s better than being at home. You making it worse for them is a real turn off. I know you have students that adore you, but you also have students that would love the opportunity to spit in your food.”

“Are you done?”

“That depends, do you understand the points I’ve made?”

“Yes. You were very clear.”

“Are you going to take what I said into consideration as you’re teaching?”

“No.”

“You’re a fucking prick.”

“And you’re…” His eyes go up and down, checking her out. “It’s a good thing your room is on the other side of the school.” He shakes his head.

“Why? Afraid I’ll spit in your food?”

“No, in fact, I’d welcome your spit. I’d like it preferably in my mouth, but beggars can’t be choosers.” He shrugs and sits down at his desk.

Your mouth is agape. Did he really just say that to you?

“Are you serious?”

“Very.” He stands back up and saunters over to her. “If you’d like to cuss me out some more, could we do it over dinner?”

“I…”

“You never gave me a chance to take you out a few years ago. Remember that night we were both at that bar?”

“I do.” You nod as you blush. “But that was a mistake. I had a boyfriend…”

“Do you still?”

“No.”

“Alright, well, I would love to be in your presence again while you’re all fired up. Are you free Saturday night?”

“Pick me up at seven.”

“I’ll make a reservation somewhere I know we’ll be secluded so you can yell at me some more.”

“Stop talking before I change my mind.” You say and storm out of his classroom.

While you were teaching your sixth period choral class, Harry was teaching his forensic science class. Your niece got there a few minutes early to talk to Mr. Styles as he stood outside the class to greet the other students coming in.

“So…did it work?” She asked quietly.

“Like a charm.”

“She said yes?!”

“Mhm.” He grinned. “You must have put on quite the performance. She was really angry.”

“If you thought that made her angry, wait until she inevitably finds out that we worked together to trick her.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #teacher!harry #blurb #drabble #harry blurb #harry drabble

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smuttyaf · 23 days

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You Can Be My Daddy

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐞.

wc; 10k | part one

lil bit of submissive!h. implied age gap! don’t read if it makes you uncomfy!!

Fingers dripping in saliva swiftly zip Harry back up, your rising chest settles down from its previous movements with heels taking steps back to create space between your teacher.

And as he swallows heavily with hands going to his belt and looping it around his waist, the door knob is turning and eerily creaking open, little time to comprehend the sudden intrusion.

Harry tries to focus on fixing himself back up but can’t help catch sight of your movements.

Palms swiping across your skirt heavily, tongue peaking out of your mouth to catch whatever aftertaste of him lapped around your lips just as you lean over to grab your things. His boss is stepping through the door making the atmosphere strained yet, that sight alone has Harry wanting to bend you over right then and there.

“Oh! Hello miss, surprised to see you!”

Wobble of a smile tugs on the ends of Harry’s lips, but bunny, she’s beaming. Flush of pink roaming amongst her cheeks accentuating her happy smile, steps swaying with subtle lifts of beat as if not touching him a few seconds ago.

“Yes! Well, I was just asking Mr. Styles this question about Marie Antoinette, our term paper is coming up.” Voice not wavering with eye contact stern when she passes him.

And Harry, he can’t help but notice how quick you are to lie; how you’re so good at it. Almost too easy to believe but you’re doing it, because the expression over Mr. Bennett's face is one of being intrigued.

“Ah, yes! Marie Antoinette, so misunderstood.” His body stepping back as he holds the door open. “I’m sure you will do well. I read your piece in the school paper; I must applaud you for your insight on Maslow, I never would’ve thought you’re familiar with his work.”

“Yes, I am. His argument on self-actualization is said in such great detail, his work is truly something.” Innocence shining through your expression of doe eyes and nodding head. The fact he’s even commenting on your published column only adds to your sweet image. “I should really get going now, goodbye Mr. Bennett.”

Harry’s thankful you don’t acknowledge him as you leave. Beer belly principal nodding his head stiffly as he goes to close the door.

Now without you by his side does he begin to sweat; knuckles flexing, jaw tensing, and lips still smiling tightly. He tries to reel it in for the sake of his job that he put on the line.

“Such a lovely girl,” He compliments as Harry makes his way towards his desk. Fingers fumbling over his paperwork looking for the report.

“Y —Yes, an excellent student.” Harry sighs once your name comes into view. He twists towards the gray haired man trying to conceal his worked up nerves.

“Thank you!” He smiles, head bowing delighted that it’s finished before stepping closer.

Mr. Bennett’s gaze is heavy as it roams over Harry. The nervous twitch of his nostril, diverating eyes and shallow breath. Inspecting every inch of him looking to catch anything off about Harry’s appearance.

“May I ask what her question was?”

His fingers curl in on each other at the sudden request catching him off guard. His boss can probably see the distress written all over his face, especially with the way he clears his throat and shifts on his feet.

“I’m sorry?” He asks, green eyes squinting to look at the principal with a confused glare.

“The question about Marie Antoinette, what was it?” Mr. Bennett responds, his bushy brows perk up as he leans on the desk.

The charm that bunny has, the one that graced this very room now leaves it empty, having him hanging by a thread. You managed to get away with your lie, but Harry, he has to continue it thinking fast on his feet to catch up.

“Uh, Marie Antoinette… her uh, saying…” He clears his throat, hand raising to his mouth coughing tensely trying to get rid of the strain on his throat. “Let them eat cake, I was explaining to her that it was just hear-say, actually coined from Jean-Jacques Rousseau, a book created way before the existence of Marie.”

The older man relaxes, tongue swiping across his dry lips as he nods once more. Satisfied smile stretches deeper amongst his features, index finger tapping into the wood of his desk as he leans off.

“Just testing…” Wink dropping before he’s turning around on his heels. Harry relaxes tremendously with shoulders subsiding and heart easing in pace as he watches him retreat to the door.

“Don’t need any new rumors, especially with parents' interviews coming up, now do we?” Mr. Bennett turns towards him, gaze running down Harry’s frame, stern sight yet delighted grin.

“Of course not sir.” He replies, nodding his head as he tracks the door swinging shut.

Harry can’t help the way his body twists around, hands combing through his hair as he tries his best to refrain from hitting himself.

How stupid can he be? That was too close of a call. If you were on your knees any longer he would’ve been packed up, sent away, and forbidden to even show his face again.

If you weren’t so passive about the situation he would have given up the facade and begged to keep his job… yet, you made it so easy covering up the moment with a shining grin and persuasive small talk. This time you both got lucky, but what about next time?

Should he even think there is one? Is he crazy to think that? Probably. He shouldn’t be fascinated or find you appealing, but he does.

He wants the sweet taste of you back on his lips… and the feeling of your hands drawing down him with that warm wet mouth just covering him all over. God, he’ll do anything to feel you again and that’s fucked up to think, but now that he’s finally had a taste he wants more. He can’t help but want more.

Harry knows it’s foolish, purely stupid, but even you yourself said it; he’s your daddy and you’re his bunny.

And, you do what you always do, be a tease.

You’re so tempting it’s hard not to notice. With your cherry lips and adorable giggle heard when passing in the hall.

Your skirt is rolled up even higher now, breast more sheen through your button up, and when you sit in front of him in class always focused with tongue glossing over your lips. It reminds him of the weeks prior, how his bunny sucked him up deliciously… how you loved every moment with dirty words and welcoming throat.

He can’t get you off his mind bunny, you’re all he thinks about in his mundane life of teaching and lacrosse. You make things so exciting, so thrilling, he likes knowing the fact he finally has your attention.

You continue to dip your back letting him see your panties, a different colour everyday of the week; sometimes lacy, sometimes plaid, but either way he enjoys the view. Harry especially likes it when you begin signing your nickname at the top of your page for tests, risky, but it entringes him even more.

It’s like right now, your eyes are following his every move when speaking about The French Revolution. Showing how attentive and perfect you are. He tries to ignore your plush mouth and drawing gaze, but he can’t help to float back over your appearance for a little while.

He wraps up the end of the class thirty minutes early, introducing the homework to be done by tomorrow and also suggesting if needing any help for the upcoming paper, that he’s all ears.

And of course, his bunny is by his side. Captivating smile shining to the bounce of your mary jane’s. Harry bites down on his lip, catching sight of your thigh highs and prominent tits. You sure know how to get his attention.

“Mr. Styles,” Long drawl of his name singing in your sweet voice. Leather clad foot resting along the heel of your shoes when leaning into the desk.

“I couldn’t understand this excerpt from yesterday.”

He knows you're lying, knows you’re way too smart not to understand something so easily explained in the textbook, but he can’t help the breathless laugh that escapes him when leaning forward in his chair.

As you place the book onto the desk he catches sight on the folded paper stuck between the spine. His throat clears, eyes shifting towards you who smiles softly at him.

His hands peel away from his arm rest and collects the thick book in his palms, shoulders turning towards you looking down at him curiously.

“This part over here, it states Marie betrayed France by telling the Austrian invaders, why would she do that?”

As the words you speak trail out as foolishness your finger points to the large text box pertaining to your question till it soon slides between the middle and lets the note fall down on the desk. Harry watches it all, his eyes trained on your finger dragging across the rest of the glossy page with fake confusion.

You want his attention so bad, look at you.

Leaning over his desk with flirty gaze and teasing smile, your breasts sparkling in his vision with the way your back curves. It’s sickening how you get away with it, how no one realizes how persuading you are at this moment but him.

“Well, yes, she betrayed the battle plans of the French in hope that they would be defeated and the monarchy restored.” He responds swiftly, hands closing the book while turning to look at you. “Does that answer your question?”

Plump lips curve against the beaming smile of your teeth, slow bob of your head lightly shifting your breasts that Harry can’t help but lick his lip at the sight. Your hand reaches out and accepts the book, hugging it into your chest before stepping away.

“Yes, thank you sir.” Heels retreating back to your desk in a sway of suggestive hips.

Harry watches you take your seat, skirt twisting with eyes tracking back to him, another tug of your lips following before you’re opening your textbook and starting the assigned work.

And he waits a few moments, letting himself look busy flipping through his agenda of drills for the lacrosse practice this afternoon. Fingers fiddling with the ends of the page before taking the note up and unraveling it.

You’re all I can think about…

His heart goes all warm, stomach clenching and veins pulsing to his dick. The neat cursive written in the middle of the torn piece of paper is a kept secret between you and him. Harry can't help but look up at you.

Completely focused on the question at hand, brows pushed together and pen breaking through your lips. You’re concentrated on keeping up your grades, you’re perfect image.

Harry has to sit back in his chair and simply just applaud you. You disguise your true self so well bunny, being the good girl that you are, the one you pretend to be.

But, it’s with his eyes trained on you does he catch Calie passing a note towards Finn. The red head laughs to himself over it before it’s passing behind him to Emmet. The telephone string of the paper from sender to receiver a mess between rushed hands.

He watches closely as it shifts throughout the room, polished nails or bitten ones taking it and passing it onto the next. From Emmet to Astrid, and then Bella to Gabriel until it’s being poked on the elbow of you.

Bunny? What’s this? Someone else on your mind and not him… you should know better than that. Who else races your mind if not him?

Harry can’t stop his nose from flaring as he sees you take it with a smile on your lips accepting the sheet.

“Y/N, would you like to share the note with the rest of the class.”

Your head picks up; eyes wide, fingers curling around the paper, and cheeks heating up noticing that you’re caught.

Snickers of students and grinning faces fill the air over the interruption of free time. They’re just as intrigued with who could’ve been the source just as much as Harry is.

“Hmm?” He continues, sight watching heavily on the way you bite your lip before looking between him and the note.

Your throat clears with fingers peeling it open, deep breath floating in the ruffle of chairs and whispers.

“Um, w —will you meet me after dinner tonight, Luca,” Voice wavering as you swallow heavily, sight catching between Harry and the blonde boy. He sits in the front right hand corner of the room shuffling in his seat, brows raised with the same expression written over his face like his bunny.

So, he’s the one who has your attention, not Harry who should be front and center. His own right wing of defense spending time with you. It’s comical and everyone in the room thinks it’s funny too.

Harry cracks his knuckles in the teasing atmosphere of you distraught that you got caught. You were just sweet talking your way with him minutes ago, and now your mind is elsewhere. Don’t you know better than that?

“Please remember that there will be no passing notes in my class.”

Your lashes flutter at him before turning to look at Luca. Chummy grin with back slouching against the chair, his eye drops into a wink that leaves you tugging your lips into a smirk.

You don’t care… of course you don’t. You have anyone that desires you hanging in front of your face by a thread while you pull the strings whenever bored.

Harry tries not to be mad, tries to reel in his nerves as you flash your eyes at the shaggy blonde as if it’s just the two of you. You’re so naughty toying with him.

This isn’t his bunny. The one who’s so attentive and pleasing. No, you’re doing more to prove how smart you truly are, the tease you love to be.

Thick blades of grass squish amongst the feet of intense movements. Cleats cutting through swiftly as they pick up from the bodies charging down the field, yellow tinged ball crossing in the air as blue and green jerseys drift by.

It’s a beautiful day outside, the trees rustling against the subtle wind from the spring breeze transitioning into the summer season. Colleagues roaming amongst the grounds on their own destinations to distinct quarters, or students still lounging in their uniforms watching the school team practice and you just so happen to be there.

Academy gym shorts with matching t-shirt relaxing on the field, badminton rackets by each of your friends as you giggle looking towards the team.

Harry can’t help his eyes glazing over your taunt frame. Perky backside and charming aura working for not only him, but the player on the team who just so happened to score in the scrimmage at hand.

He watches the way you smirk before turning to your friends who bump shoulders with you, teasing each other with pointed glaces and twisting feet.

Look at you, so happy to give your attention away; to show you have other options, one that leaves Harry jealous and fighting to regain focus.

“Alright, I’m calling it in.” Ed nods to him once checking his watch. That’s his cue to trail across the field while the head coach draws the team in.

The nylon of his pants swishes with each stride before he’s leaning down collecting the pylons. His body makes its way across the field picking up the yellow plastic, white lines shifting his version that he doesn’t realize he’s near you. Close enough to see your gleaming smile and hear little about the conversation in the group.

It’s when leaning down to pick up the equipment do your eyes catch on each other. Head swishing to the side as you smile happily. Your finger twirls the ends of your hair with body shifting against the grass as you ignore whatever words are being said.

Harry watches clearly the way your head twists around and slowly, but subtly nods towards the array of trees that comb over the grounds of the school. Your eyebrows raise in question before listening to your friends.

Was this your plan all along? With your friends too distracted with each other to realize your actions to lure him out there. Was this what you were plotting this whole time? Low waisted shorts and dreamy eyes simply directing him where to meet once practice is over.

You’re too good at this, too conceited and happy to get whatever you want. Even if you were just delighted to have Lucas' attention you still want more.

Harry trails his view off you when picking up the remaining equipment before joining the team for the cool down of the practice.

He puts all the pinneys and pylons together, palms securing everything in their respective bags until he’s tugging off towards the equipment room. His body carried him down the flight of stairs while looking out towards the window just parallel to the steps.

Harry watches your body stalking into the woods and he can’t help the smirk that tugs at the end of his lips as he goes down the rest of the stones.

Leaves and sticks crunch below your Converse, fingers feeling over the light green blades that feels like velvet against the pad of your skin. The tug at the end of your lip is hard not to resist with your veins pulsing at what could possibly happen if you see Mr. Styles again.

This game of cat and mouse was your specialty, being able to have your way with teachers and peers so attractive and delectable. You could always tell with their breath catching and shaky voice that it was right to purpose the match.

Your perfect grades and kind attitude shines over your deeper thoughts, your favorite desires, the ones that have you tugging your way into the forest of the school right now.

Your head twists up to catch shadows of the trees as your steps still venture out east of the school, far from the usual make out spots on the property.

Will he even come? The way he turned away from you on the field was giving he wasn’t even interested, and all because of Luca and his dumb note; the one you got called out on.

You like having your secrets unknown to each other, all your lies being covered with pearly white teeth and bending spine. You were subtle with handing your own note off to your favorite teacher, if it all went well then you were certain he would show up to meet. But your boy toy around school had other plans when deciding to get you tangled in your tactics.

Stuttering and looking up at Mr. Styles caught in the aftermath of flirty eyes and bouncing breasts. You hate that he had ruin your chances, you’re not quite sure when you’ll be near your teacher again without it being so obvious from friends and peers. It was such a risky game that you loved to play despite having yourself caught up last semester.

It’s a good thing you’re so good at batting your lashes and talking so sweetly you managed to get away, but now it was a tab left in your mother’s mind and it certainly wounded your step-father. Your right hand goes to your mouth and begins to chew on your nail from the anxiety festering from the memories. You need to be sharper and have all your little white lies arranged better, you can’t manage to slip up again.

Steps finally come to a halt, body twisting around to rest along the wide tree with unruly bushes growing around it. Perfect. Your back slouches against the stumb as your hand tears away from your mouth.

You could barely see the field or the school's architecture from your place. You can only hope Mr. Styles would find you if he was still interested.

He has to be… he still stares at you longingly especially on your lips. Bet he’s remembering your moment together, the one that you can’t stop thinking about. How he made your throat swell and voice all raspy… how you had to pretend in front of the principal you didn’t just swallow your teacher's load.

You want more of him. He’s all you think about when Luca would he kissing down your neck or when your step-father is in your ear whispering how much he misses you, Mr. Styles was the only one on your mind when everything would be happening.

When the thick Bradford accent on the other end of the phone describes everything he would do, all you can think of is your teacher and what he would do in his place. Where his hands would spread amongst your body, or where his lips would find themselves on your skin.

The cracking of branches brings you out of your thoughts, your fingers running over the ends of your shorts as you see brown hair come into sight.

So he did show up, trialing after you like you thought he would. The ends of your lips curl up as you relax deeper into the wood. Mr. Styles continues his steps into the space, his eyes darting around until you whistle sweetly to catch his attention.

“Fancy seeing you around,” You perk up, feet crossing over each other as you watch him make his way over.

His body covered in a black tracksuit certainly making him appealing with his bulky frame. Humming softly your tongue peeks out to swipe along your bottom lip. The thoughts of him manhandling you from your teasing ways makes your clit begin to swell.

“Bunny…” He greets with hands wrapping around your waist. Tall frame pushing you deeper into the stumb as he looks over your face.

“Daddy…” You utter, peering up at him through doe eyes, the same ones that have him falling every time.

“I missed you,” Whispering up at him sweetly. Your hands leave your shorts to pull at the band of his track pants.

Those words have the teacher surveying your every feature with fingers curling tighter around your hips. Mr. Styles is so handsome with his grainy stubble and board chest. The way he’s pining you into the tree has you moaning quietly as you straighten your back.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” His words send a wave of annoyance through you. The eye roll you find yourself doing is completely unintentional as your head knocks into the wood.

“That wasn’t my fault,” You huff, fingers snaking along his boxers while looking up at him.

“Oh, really?” Playful cheer in the teacher’s voice as his palms venture down your hips and feel over your cheeks. The motions so possessive from his huge hands that the moan that trails from you has him groaning as well.

“It wasn’t, because you know…” Mr. Styles' face draws closer with each word as he towers over you. “You’re all I can think about.”

The pads of your fingers gaze across his happy trail, mouth parting slightly as you lift yourself onto your toes closer to him, the taste that you’ve been craving just inches away.

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

His teasing tone and rough hands have you begging just to close the space around him. It’s why your nails leave scratches against the older man’s skin, whining high in your throat so desperate for him.

“All the time,” Warmth of your movements draw deeper down his pelvis. “I think about you when I shower in the morning… touching myself thinking you're there with me.”

Deep growl rumbles through Mr. Styles, his teeth biting into his lip as he steps closer. His hips parallel with yours as you curl your hand around his cock, thick bead of pre-cum smearing along his crown as you keep your gaze strong.

“Having me up against the wall, water between us… daddy, I always imagine how good you would fuck me.” Torturing him with your lewd thoughts whenever alone and thinking about your favorite person.

“Just stretching me out all nice and wide… you’re so big… all nice and thick, I still remember how you fucked my throat.” The older man can’t stop himself from landing a furious smack against your ass. Tiny squeak leaving you as you fall to your heels.

“What else do you think about princess?” He ask, lips so dangerously close your breath is wavering.

Your hand grips tighter around Mr. Styles cock, his hips inching closer to you as he palms over your backside. Happy would be an understatement about how you feel at the moment. He’s finally here and under your spell again, just the way you like him.

“I think about you beneath me…” Tongue skimming across your flesh as you slide down him with ease, the fluid drawing from him makes the twist of your movements much easier as he leans in deeper.

“Kissing down my stomach, feeling up my thighs, licking where I want you the most,” Lashes flutter as his mouth inches closer and closer to you. “Don’t you think about my pussy daddy?”

Those very words have him capturing your lips with his. The muted taste of peppermint lingering along his tongue rubs against yours, spit being exchanged with haste as he can’t help his fingers from slinking between your thighs and feeling over the very place you want him.

He’s rubbing the spot there, rough ends of his digits massaging over your clothed area. It’s harsh and swift as they draw down your folds, an electric surge tingling down your spine feeling him around you all over again.

Mr. Styles is all rugged with his growing beard and bulky frame. He could easily manhandle you any kind of way but he treats you so delicately. You couldn’t imagine how he’ll spread you nice and wide, it’s all that’s been on your mind when you pass by him in the hall or stare up at him in class. Those very thoughts that have you breaking away from the kiss with a whimper.

“How I’ll feel around you…” Fingers contracting around his length as you bow your eyes at him slowly. “How I’ll stretch around you…” Lips curling in on each other savoring the taste of him on your buds. “How I taste… don’t you think about that a lot Mr. Styles… how my pussy would taste on your tongue?”

And he’s groaning in his throat, his teeth tugging on his bottom lip as his hands leave their position and drape to their previous one. His head cranes down to press wet kisses along the expanse of your neck, your hips being held strongly against the bark.

“Yes bunny… I do.” Your head turns against the wood from the adrenaline coursing through, his breath drapes warm and heavy amongst your skin that you moan at the feel.

In his new position you retrieve your hands and place them on either side of his face, your eyes watching closely as he breathes over your belly button with sight connecting to yours.

His hands drag up and down the expanse of your stomach before his fingers catch onto the band of your shorts, head wandering deeper down and staring up at you while doing so.

The lined cotton shorts that once grace your hips draw down swiftly with your panties, they pool around your feet with his hands drawing back up your naked thighs, feverish pecks roaming over your abdomen until pressing into your love handles.

“Oh daddy… won’t you make me feel good?” Fingers curling into his hair and ruffling with it. You always wanted to do that. Feel his hair rubbing against your stomach and kisses littering your inner thigh, it’s finally happening and you couldn’t be more excited.

Mr. Styles is looking up at you, sun highlighting the green in his eyes and his long lashes that blink up. And with the soft breeze whisking itself through the forest do you whimper at the feeling of it passing through your lower half.

“Yes, bunny.” Said so deep and husky that your fingers scratch along his scalp. His hand that dragged along your thigh urges your leg up, you don’t hesitate to prop it up your side with his help to keep it there.

Mr. Styles breath floats along your inner thighs, light smears of his wet lips pressing along the skin that you whine high in your throat. You don’t know how much time you have, but you doubt anyone is looking for either of you or going further past the school grounds to come look. You’re sure you’re safe but still, there’s always the possibility of someone seeing or finding you.

It’s why all movements are so rushed yet lucid, his tongue dragging sloppily along your thighs as he moves towards your pussy. A relieving sigh leaving when his tongue skims over your folds, eyes still locked on each other as his grip tightens over you.

“Daddy,” Soft call of his name trailing out as he leans in again to lick you, a pleasant hum vibrates over you that your eyes bat slowly at the feel.

The delicious drag of his tongue lying flat against your pussy as he draws his head up in lengthy strides makes your foot bend in your Converse. This is what you’ve always dreamt about; his tongue eating you out, and it’s even better that you tell he’s enjoying it with his fingers scratching into your skin all hungry.

“Like how I taste, daddy?”

A deep groan pulsates throughout you to answer which has your head knocking back into the tree. Sweet moan falling from your lips as your knee against the stumb bends a bit, pussy sinking deeper against Mr. Styles tongue as he draws up your folds.

One hand leaves his curls and goes towards the one holding your thigh up, his head rocking up and down in rush strides that you begin following his movements. Wet muscle flexing against every swivel and drag, his forest orbs loving the way your lips fall apart and moan from his touch. He lets you take charge and ride his tongue just the way you like if that's the attention you need… the attention you deserve.

His tongue drags up along your clit and in the moment you don’t hesitate to tug his head back and circle your waist along him. The width of his tongue swallowing your clit up so beautifully that it’s better than everything you imagined, and the fact he’s a grown man letting you ride his face, god he’s the best daddy ever.

Your head leans forward, teeth biting down on your lip as you gently move him against your circling hips.

“You’re so good to me daddy.”

Mr. Styles' eyes close slowly even more aroused from your words and the fact you taste like honey. His nails leave crescent moons into skin as he lets you drag yourself all over him. Just as hot as it is to be getting off using him, Harry was a slave to your tactics getting off to your sweet nectar and melodic voice dripping in sex.

Between the slurps of him eating your pussy to the moans expelling every time you swivel your hips harder against him, the scene is one of greed. Pure old fashioned greed of wanting nothing more than to ruin each other. It’s such a dangerous game but it’s so fun, luring him in and pulling at his heart strings all because it was entertaining to you.

“Like the way I ride you?” His tongue tenses against your movements, his head bobbing shallowly that leaves you to let out a breathless sigh.

And to think after calling you out hours ago when catching you with someone else Mr. Styles is here right now eating your pussy, and loving it.

He’s the daddy you need, the one that goes over and beyond to prove where your eyes should be focused on. He’s really the best, doing all this just to prove to you the place he wants in your life.

“Do you want me to ride your cock like this?” Lazy smirk tugging at the end of your lips with brow raising slightly, your motions losing momentum as you look down at him.

His mouth flexes against your folds, lips pressing open kisses back along your thighs. Wet juices dragging along your skin as your grip over him relaxes. Your thigh falls lucid by your leg, his touch drawing back up your skin as he finds his way up your body.

“Bunny,” Mr. Styles breathes against your clothed stomach. The sweet exchange that once coats his mouth disappears once dragging along the shirt. His lips trailing back up your neck and pressing onto your cheeks.

“I don’t know how much time we have left.”

You shake your head confidently, hands now drawing up his shoulders and stepping closer to him. You’re sure there’s nothing to worry about, almost positive you had enough time to have him the way you want.

“Please…” Lips pout slightly as you get him to peer into your eyes, your canine tooth catching on your lip before you’re smiling innocently at him. “I’m all nice and tight for you, don’t you want to feel daddy?”

Mr. Styles groans lowly, his face shifting amongst yours as he slots your lips against each other. The sweet taste of yourself flows along your tongue and you love every bit of it knowing that he adores it even more at the moment. The juices that you expel with the mix of your saliva, it’s a delicious brew that you're sure he wants forever from the way his fingers grip onto your hips.

He’s thought of this moment so many times yet can’t believe it’s happening, and the words you speak, he’s nearly coming from the sweet sound and the way you say his name.

Tongues dance along each other in a rushed frenzy not knowing how much longer it’ll be till this moment happens again. Your lips feel over the soft pricks of his stubble, hands drawing along his chest and moaning at the possessiveness over the kiss. His tongue flows against yours with such dominance you moan against him before pulling away with a bite at his lip.

“Just lay down for me, please?” You ask all sweet and doe eyed, nails dotting against the nylon of his jacket as you stare up at him.

And he’s unsure, with sight looking between you and the scenery around. A gentle sigh escapes as he nods his head lightly. “Okay.”

The grin that shines across your lips is bright and cheery, your eyes watching him closely as his knees begin to bend and you don’t hesitate to follow. Your hands fitting themselves on each side of his head, hips resting along his stomach with your face becoming parallel to each other.

“Been thinking about this since I met you.” Head leaning forward and dotting kisses against his chin, his hands by his side tug at the top of his track pants to pull them down.

“Looking at you in class… thinking about you fucking me on my desk.” Rush breath combing over his neck as you litter him with love. “Or yours.” Giggle trailing out so adorably that Mr. Styles moans at the sound. His hand draws away from the fabric of his joggers and lands a scolding slap amongst your ass.

“Dirty girl.” He mutters, fingers spreading you wide while rocking you over his erection.

“Only for you daddy.”

Leaning back on your knees, your hands slide towards your t-shirt and tug it over your head. Your breasts on display as you balance yourself amongst his waist, arm going behind your back and palming his cock.

“Want you inside me.” You say while blindly releasing him from his confines and twisting him slowly.

Mr. Styles rests on his elbows as he watches you raise up, the beautiful sight of his bunny bare and ready to take him, this is too good to be true.

His teeth poke out from his mouth and catch on his lips, stomach dipping with heavy breaths as he watches you lower yourself. Your puffy folds spread wide as his cock fills you up slowly, long whine tearing from your throat as he swallows you up inch by inch. The stretch of him has your body leaning forward with other hand curling around his jacket anxiously.

“Jesus.” Mr. Styles breathes with hand steadying your hips as he leans up, the tight feel of you around him makes his fingers curl deeper into your skin while you sink further onto his lap. “Bunny, fuck.” Your knees clench around his waist as you sigh pleasantly.

Plush walls nestle his throbbing cock gracing your sweet spot so heavenly that you’re shuddering against him. Your hips rubbing against his pelvis only increasing the fraction that has you crying out in satisfaction.

“Daddy, you fill me up so good.” Both hands gather up his arms and to the nape of his neck, your mouths lean forward breathing in each other's moans.

“You’re so tight bunny.” He follows your motions as your head knocks into his forehead.

You hum with your mouth going dry, eyes batting at him slowly as you find the strength to rise up on your knees and slowly grind yourself. Delicious spread of your pussy accepting every stride of him.

The combination of his spit and your juices leaves a squelching sob sound every time your hips meet. Walls flexing around every loving rhythmic stroke, whine high in the back of your throat as your fingers press deeply into his skin.

“So sweet, so dirty, just the way I like you.” Mr. Styles breathes over your lips. Your mouth catching his filthy words and swallowing them up loving the taste.

His grip over your hips guides your movements, eyes hanging low and watching every bounce of yourself riding him to the way your nose twitches. The thickness of him swells every crevice that succumbs to him filling you up. It’s leaving you numb with pleasure allowing him to draw you down in repetitive motions.

“I love the way you stretch around me, bunny” His lips curving the slope of your nose when you bow your head.

This moment was more than your dreams. The man that’s been fucking you in your every thought now helping you slide down his dick with such ease. Telling you just how he likes you, and how he loves the way you expand around him, he’s the best teacher. Your favorite one.

Lips collide in messy motions, slipping across each other with moans and groans trailing out. The hands of both of you sinking deeper and deeper as you both chase your highs.

The crinkles of leaves shift under your bodies, shadows of trees gracing across your bouncing breasts as Mr. Styles continues to guide your movements. Mouths catching along each other hurriedly with thighs twitching to curl deeper against him, the shock of stabs running down your neck causes your spine to bend at the feeling.

“Daddy… m’gonna…” Mouth parting away from him as your forehead drags along his cheek, breath coming out rushed as you feel your climax making itself known.

“Gonna come on daddy’s cock? You love my dick, don’t you?” His words deep in your ear making you lose all sense in your knees when going silk around him.

Your head twists deeper across his skin, eyes barely staying open as the squished grass amongst the floor bobs in your vision. Mr. Styles takes complete control over you as his hands keep your waist flexing around him.

Your pussy quivers and trembles from his words, adding fury to the spikes of arousal barreling down joyously. Your mouth hangs open, nails scratching into his skin as you continue feeling his cock tagging your cervix each time.

“Oh, fuck,” You moan completely distraught with stomach twitching. Your jerking hips take control of your weak motions as you find the strength to runt yourself into his lap.

Clit rubbing beautifully against the light bush along his pelvis chasing your high. You groan pleasantly at the head of his cock dragging across your sweet spot, your climax welcoming itself with your pussy contracting around him.

And instead of Mr. Styles guiding you back up his length he’s following your movements and thrusting into your hips. Piercing jabs adding to the sensation of pulsing shocks spreading through.

“Feel so good bunny,” He moans into your bobbing head, lips trailing down the hair matted to your shoulder. Sweet smell of your perfume gracing his nostrils that leaves him growling against your skin.

Fingers shake against his flexing shoulders, lips bitten and cracked letting air shallowly fill your lungs. Your pussy is bruised and sore from the girth of your teacher assaulting every inch that welcomes him.

“You’re so deep daddy,” Sweet voice running across his blushing skin. It’s damp with tiny strands connecting hair against his temples, his adam’s apple bobbing heavily with his fingers digging deeper into your skin; clear that your words affect him.

It’s your favorite thing to do with this game you play. How your words are so angelic yet dirty, leaving Mr. Styles, your boy toy and step-father vulnerable messes every time you're around. Cracked voices and growing erections always being your sight at just a simple bat of an eye. It’s so easy to have whoever you want be able to play.

It’s why you continue being alluring; dreamy moans carrying into his ears with hands sliding up into his hair, tousling every lock as you rotate your hips against his thrusts. The change in rhythm and pulsing beats of your pussy around Harry makes him hiss. Head dropping swiftly against your shoulder till you catch him quickly, nails tugging his head back as you peer into his eyes and ride his cock.

“Fuck me nice and wide,” Waist swiveling against his grip trying to strain your movements. Green eyes look up at your lips while his part in bliss accepting your heavenly pussy gracing him. “Stretch me so good daddy.”

Teasing breath fanning over his face as your breasts rub against the material of his jacket, your scent showers over him with your pussy wrapping around his cock deliciously, the sight clear of how he’s a slave to you and the way you make him feel.

“Don’t you want to fill me up?” Harry moans with eyes blinking slowly, his fingers beginning to loosen against your motions.

Your pussy coats his dick in creamy fluid adding to the pleasure of your walls dragging down him. Your fingers itch at his scalp, lips leaning towards his and nearly connecting as you smile.

“Don’t you want me to make you a daddy?”

Words having Mr. Styles whining high in his throat, hands twitching against your hips just as his seed spills into you. Fingers twitching and jaw tensing as he stares up in complete admiration. His waist stills against yours, eyes blinking slowly in a daze as you still grin at him, swiveling your hips and whispering sweet nothings.

“Such a thick load, sir.”

Hands relaxing around his curls while his fall from your waist, Harry’s sight completely enveloped by your words that he can’t help the lazy smile that tugs along his lips when you giggle at his expression.

“Mm… you’re really the best.” You hush, hips moving slowly as your chest begins to relax.

“It’s clear that’s up for debate.” Mr. Styles smirks, fingers feeling over the blades of grass below. But even if it’s a playful tease, his words taint your heart.

“It’s only you, I’m so serious sir,” You sigh, head shifting with bottom lip jutting out.

He gives you a pointed glare as if not believing you — not that he should, but it’s entertaining to make him jealous… teasing him just how you like. It’s why you find yourself rolling your eyes and raising up on your sore knees. The motion of you sitting off his lap and slipping him out turns his attention. His come drips out and flows down the expanse of his cock.

Humming delighted at the site, your hand trails out of his hair and between your legs. Fingers seeping into your pussy and catching the reminder of him onto your fingertips to carry into your mouth. Tongue welcoming the muted taste of your teacher and moaning playfully.

“Bunny.” He whines, eyes watching closely as you dip back between you both and collect the rest running down his cock and sucking them off your fingers again. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

The laugh that escapes you is adorable when you lean into his chest, hands moving to his shoulders and forcing him to fall back against the grass which he does gently. His own hands run down your spine as you shift around on his body.

“Wouldn’t that be amazing?” You sigh, fingers trailing up his neck and drawing along the definition of his jaw as he looks up at the sky.

The laugh that leaves the older man is light and cherished, one that has you smiling as you let his touch roam all over your skin.

His heart beats against your ear, lungs rising steadily with your bodies fitting together. The sun is still shining brightly with the breeze passing by every few moments. The quiet atmosphere of this area makes it feel private and safe.

“Sir?” Voice raised in question as your fingertip glides against the bridge of his nose just in time for him to hum in response.

“You never did tell me why you call me bunny?” Lips piercing together tightly as his touch begins to draw circles up your spine in swirls.

“Your eyes,” He whispers as he looks at the clouds passing across.

Your brows perk up at that. Your eyes? You knew they were quite alluring but not to that extent. Yet, that was the nickname that he gave you, the one feature that stood out the most to him. Not cherry, or baby like your other two flings.

“My eyes?” You reiterate. Head trailing off to the side as you pass your finger across his lips. The motion has him playfully biting on your nail till you’re retreating back to draw along his cheeks with a giggle.

“Yes… there so doe and soft, like a bunny. My bunny.” You hum acknowledging his words in admiration.

So that’s what he thought, that’s what stuck out the most. It was adorable and unique. So different compared to what you’re familiar with.

“When do you think we can do this again?” Your voice mutters against his chest. It makes Mr. Styles draw his hands away and lean up on his elbows.

His eyes go towards your shirt and grabs it, the material falls into your grip and you don’t hesitate to lean back and slip it over your head, sight still caught on the older man.

“I don’t know… it’s too risky,” His view looking over your naked thighs that hold his abdomen to the poor expression turning up over your face.

“Oh come on,” You huff, rolling your eyes and drawing away from his body. You twist off him with hands leaning towards your undergarments inches away.

“W —What are you getting all upset about? Even right now is pushing it,” His own actions cover himself back up as you scoff in response. “Don’t act like this.”

Another exaggerated sigh falls from your mouth before fixing your shorts around your hips, sight narrowing on the green streaks across your shirt before turning to look at the teacher now standing.

“I’ll act however I please,” You mumble, teeth clenching down on each other as Mr. Styles groans with annoyance, his hand stretching towards you but you’re quick enough to retreat back.

“So, even if it’s this spot for the exact same time?” You rephrase, heart knocking against your chest as you tangle your arms together.

“No Y/N, god… don’t you get it? Don’t you see my job on the line just to be here right now?”

“Fine.”

“Would you stop?”

“No.”

Your eyes watch every frustrated movement from the body parallel of you who bows his head in disbelief of the situation.

Of course he wants to see you again, of course he wants to wrap himself all around you but this puts too much stress over everything on his plate.

“Let’s just talk this over?”

“No, I’m good.”

Your teeth shining happily as you shift your head to the side and watch Mr. Styles inhale deeply. his body stepping closer still attempting to hold you.

“I’ll walk my way around to the front… you can go back from where you came from.” Simple nod of your head before your gracefully turning around beginning your departure. You’re trailing off so quickly he doesn’t even have the chance to catch you slipping through his fingers.

He just had you and now it’s already over.

Harry should’ve really expected this though. He should’ve anticipated your stubborn reaction to his words, he should’ve really thought over them because now you’re making his life a living hell.

You couldn’t wait a week, or even a couple days, you really couldn’t wait at all. Because the next afternoon you showed up to class five minutes late, walking through the door with a simple smirk on your lips and “sorry!” so sweet and delectable that he let you get away with it, of course he would, far as he knows he’s on punishment.

But, when you cut your eyes in a wicked glare did he realize who else was missing from the class, his own lacrosse player. Your heels echoed to your seat eerily to him amongst the shuffling of the other students, and when you sat in your chair with lips now a teasing grin did Luca soft knock sound on the door before he stepped in.

His collar was obnoxiously up high, clear what was litter amongst his skin. The sight had Harry clenching his jaw unbearably tight, his eyes going to you who conceitedly winked at him. It didn’t help that the other students began to snicker, adding to the fury of Harry turning his fingers in on themselves while continuing the class.

That was only the beginning though; now when passing in the halls you completely ignored him, acting as if he wasn’t there. When seeing you in the pillars of the school with Luca by your side, you made sure to wink at him, or sometimes Harry will see him drop you off to class, catching sight on his hands grabbing the skin he doesn’t deserve.

You continue showing up late; sometimes your boyfriend trailing behind, sometimes not. You stop raising your hand and involving yourself in class discussions and begin to pay attention to the birds outside or doodling in your book. Notes start being exchanged even more between you and the blonde classmate, one time you even left one on your desk that Harry took up.

Can I eat you out tonight?

Luca

His messy writing covered the paper that Harry closed his fist around. His feet stalked over to the garbage and threw it into the trash.

You’re fucking with him so badly, so terribly, why are treating him like this?

He doesn’t feel any better that he tried to be reasonable, trying to get you to understand that your endeavors couldn’t be consistent, it would be too much for the both of you.

But, it’s tempting… so tempting to want to pull you in after class and tell you that he’s done with your antics and to take him back. Go back to being his sweet bunny with doe eyes and bitten lips, go back to writing his nickname across the page of your test and showing him your sweet plump cheeks.

It’s already bad enough he’s coming into his hand every night just thinking about your pussy around him again. Your sweet voice telling him your dirty thoughts, the ones that have been on your mind since meeting. He wants more of you, he needs more honestly, and the way you’re acting isn’t helping him at all.

He can deal with you being with Luca because Harry knows deep down he doesn’t satisfy you the way you like. He’s certain you don’t fancy him much and is just using him to toy with his feelings, but he’ll accept that.

It’s Friday night and it’s the annual parent teacher meeting. Students in their pressed and polished uniforms standing alongside their parents as they walk across campus displaying to them their life while here.

Harry hasn’t seen you yet and he’s thankful, he’s suppose to meet your mother and he’s trying to keep his nerves at bay. His fingers are tapping timidly inside his pocket as he smiles at Gabriel's mother who boasts about the upcoming lacrosse tournament.

His eyes watch the way her skin folds over in wrinkles when she smiles happily, while her son looks annoyed and Harry can’t help the breathless laugh that leaves him when noticing.

“The boys have been putting in great work this year, I’m sure we’ll be getting the trophy.” Harry beams while Gabriel rolls his eyes at his teacher.

“It’s all he talks about when I call him… but, let’s me not keep you, we still have to see Mrs. Randall.” Fading auburn hair shifting with each nod of her head as she leaves the community hall looking for the science teacher.

It’s when the loving mother exits the door does he see his bunny slip in. Manicure and dazzling accessories shining over your shoulder as your mother walks into the room, and it isn’t the sight of her that has Harry shocked, no, it’s the man that steps through right after with tattoos littered in the revealing parts of his suit. All over his hands and up his neck, if Harry were to assume, he would be around his age, with thick beard growing in and slight tiredness swelling around his eyes.

He can tell from his appearance you don’t look quite similar, you resemble your mother more than anything but he doesn’t stare too long. Not with the way you begin to walk towards him with both parents on either side.

The chatter in the room is filled with other guardians and teachers making small talk either about the curriculum or the school's pretentious history, and somehow in all that noise it doesn’t seem to drown out the footsteps of bodies making their way over to him.

“Mr. Styles?” Thin lips of your mother sing in a cheerful tune as she sways from side to side.

He remembers you telling him about your mother. How she sent you to school once given the chance, yet she’s all bubbly and happy as if you have a place in her life, as if all the words you spoke were nothing but pure lies.

“Yes ma’am, that’s me!” Harry smiles softly, hand reaching out and she takes it genuinely. Soft touch enveloping him in a strong shake as he bows his head.

“You must be Y/N mother,” He continues, their hands parting as he looks down at you. For once your sight is looking up at him, your attention actually focus on him, and it makes Harry swallow heavily.

“She has told me so much about you, all very good things! Saying how you’ve made her enjoy history even, she was never quite fond of it in her past schoolings but, you’ve made it her favorite!”

His brows raise up at that, mouth parting slightly in shock before grinning happily looking between you and your mother. So, you’ve been telling her about him? And saying his teachings are your favorite subject. You’re confusing him with your hot and cold games, but it’s even worse that he enjoys being in the middle of it.

“I never knew she said that? I’m so happy to hear,” Harry smiles before his hand is turning towards the man to the left of you. “And you must be Mr—”

“—Malik.”

His words cut off the teacher to correct him but doesn’t stop them from their hands meeting, strong grip over each other as his brown eyes look over him longingly, examining every inch of him.

“My apologies…” Harry sighs before turning to your mother to divert his gaze from your step-father. “But yes, she’s doing amazing in class. I'm glad it’s become her favorite.”

And he sees the way your face begins to heat up, how your eyes watched every motion of him shaking your father’s hand as if stunned this moment is happening. Harry wants to laugh, he wants to chuckle in your face because of course he’s caught you again, lying about having a father figure, this is cold bunny.

“Oh! Mom, they have that sparkling juice I was talking about, the one you should use for the dinner?” Your voice enters the conversation nervously as you look towards her. Hand going to her elbow as you direct her to the assortment of drinks and snacks on the table under the bulletin board.

“Just one second!” Your mother smiles at Harry before letting you lead her away.

Before Harry can even admire the sight of you all flustered and caught up from your parents meeting the teacher you’ve been tormenting for months, the laugh next to him has his direction turning towards the heavily tattoo man.

“Isn’t she funny?” Mr. Malik asks, lips tugged to the side as he shuffles on his feet. Harry can’t help but take one of his hands out of its confines and cough into it.

“Yes, she has quite the humor,” He agrees, fingers running over his hips smoothly as he shifts his posture.

Your step-father is looking up at him with such a questioning glare that Harry can feel his ears begin to beat with warmth, his eyes dying to break the fight over whatever is crossing his mind.

You always have tricks up your sleeves, always have another way to shine your dazzling teeth to get away with something else, and it’s another one of those moments. Body turned away from your daddy and father ignoring the fact they’re in the same room.

Aren’t you a nervous little thing when all caught up? It’s quite adorable.

“Are you playing?”

The question draws Harry’s eyebrows together, lips parting and sight concentrated heavier on the man next to him.

“I’m sorry?”

“With cherry? Are you playing with her?”

Cherry? His bunny is cherry to him. Oh? So this is why you’re so nervous and looking more distraught than when he caught you with that note.

You’re not nervous at the fact Harry knows you lied about your parents, but the fact you already had a father figure in your life, one that plays with you already and does everything that he wants when given the chance. That’s why you ran away.

“Oh? I —I didn’t… I haven’t…” Harry’s voice trails off as his sight goes towards you pouring another glass of the grape juice for your mother to try.

“So, it’s true then?” His eyes trail back to the older man who holds a smug grin, and when his hand pats down on his shoulder roughly, it makes Harry let out an uncomfortable laugh.

“I must say… she does get what she wants.” Mr. Malik sight combs over the teacher before releasing his hold.

It has Harry relaxing and throat clear as his nose crinkles up. His bunny with someone else? He could get over Luca, he really could care less… but the man in front of him —the one you lied about so innocently— is standing before him not even surprised by the teachers place in your life, you’ve broken his heart bunny.

“Is she always like this?” Harry finds himself asking without thought, his brows relaxing as he tries to collect all the memories of everything you said from the first encounter.

“If you’re who she likes, yeah I guess… I’m not sure how it works in her head, she got me a few years ago…” Mr. Malik admits before breaking their gaze and looking over at you, and Harry can’t stop himself from doing it also. “You know, it really did catch me off guard when I found out about what she did first semester.”

Harry’s fingers curl in on themselves from hearing the truth. So it was all true, you did try to seduce a teacher, that’s why you’re at this school. That’s why you play this game with him, because you like this attention… you like having your way with the people you desire, you’re so dirty bunny.

“I didn’t know that,” He says, with hands crossing over his chest as he now leans against the brick wall. The relevance of the news has Mr. Malik turning, his eyebrows furrowed with a cheesy grin.

“Really?” He says with a shake of his head, body relaxing next to the teacher.

“I also didn’t know about you… I mean, being her father and all.”

“Step.” He emphasizes giving a pointed look, and Harry nods his head in acknowledgement.

“Yes, step-father.” He confirms before whistling weakly.

Your lies are finally spread out for the both of them to see. It really took today for him to see past everything and get the real information about you that he really wanted, the one he’s been seeking from the beginning.

His mind is a whirlwind of emotions and memories of what you both shared in such little time. “It’s only you, I’m serious sir.” Those were your words, said with such purity he believed you. But now it’s so clear how you like to be shared, how you like to be passed around for everyone.

Harry thought all this time that what you really needed was mentorship, soon that turned into some well deserved attention, but now, he thinks he sees your true intentions, the real reason why your eyes glimmer with happiness every time.

“I purpose we make some changes to her game,” Mr. Malik remarks, his white teeth showing as his lips stretch, and Harry can’t help but nod in agreement.

“I think we should make some new rules.”

#smuttyaf #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles #harry styles one shots #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #hs #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fandom #teacher!harry

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sunnylands-world · 10 months

Text

Porn for Mr. styles

Pairing: Harry styles x Fem reader

Summary: your teacher finds out there's more to your good girl act…

Word count: 1'185

Warning: mentions of porn video, daddy kink, older man but the reader is in college, p in v in classroom, I think that's it

Universe: teacher x student

A/n: are you guys tired of Harry or want more 😏

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Harry was in his class teaching the lesson when a boy in the far off corner interrupted.

"A yo look at this shit. she's so hot what I'd give to fuck that pussy."

Mr. Styles' head whipped around fast enough to give someone whiplash. I don't get paid enough for this, he thought to himself.

"Mr. Fern, care to share with me why you just interrupted my class?" the boy stood to his feet, hands in the air.

"Hey man, she's for everyone." the boy said, finally meeting the last step and turned his screen to Harry who's eyes widened in shock. his thoughts ran mad. not you anyone but you. His A+ student, who hugged him, smiled and was well behaved. Why, he wondered. Your voice booming through the screen as you whimpered and moaned. He pushed the screen away, disappointed by what he saw. Class ended and he sat in his chair confused.

Why?

You were so smart and very attractive, if Harry could have looked at you that way he would have. You were kind, beautiful, and well mannered. Now Harry thought about it, he didn't ask about student and teacher relationships here at the college. He tried to push away the thoughts that crossed his mind. how you looked so good whimpering and whining and what you would look like screaming his name.

He let his mind tell him It was fine to look at you on the site. he typed it in. he looked and looked till he found your video clicking on it and in a heartbeat you were on top of a pink toy moving on it like your life depends on it and in a missed of the moment you said something that shocked the skin off his body.

"Harry, harder" you cried and your eyes shot open and you got up with fear on your face and cut the video. Now Harry knew there were other people with his name but what were the odds that you knew someone else named Harry? And if he was right that would mean…you were fantasizing about fucking him and he was doing the same.

So now he knew how you sounded saying his name and he found that night to be a restless one. He eventually shut his eyes deciding he'd discuss this with you at school the next day. He wondered if you'd even show or if you thought that he saw the video.

Was that the point all along?

He got up and dressed quickly heading to his class. He wanted to blame the pace he was moving at to get to the school on his morning coffee but he knew it was because of you…

As soon as he arrived at class he hesitated, not sure how to approach this so he just called you in.

you entered doing your usual hug and smile only this time Harry didn't do it back. you looked confused, pouting like you didn't know what you had done and Harry had to admit he admired your ability to hide what you had done for however long you had.

"Have I done something wrong Mr styles" you asked. He could think of a million things you did but he lightly smiled and decided to rip it off like a band aid. "

"ms.[Last name] I found you on a porn website."

You felt tears come to your eyes and were about to speak, afraid you'd lose everything you worked hard for but he cut you off.

"why?" he asked, his voice raised a bit and knowing you were probably leaving school you let out everything.

"I'm sorry, I just got a slight crush on you. you're so attractive Mr. styles! Your eyes, your hair, your voice-" you breathed.

"I did it because I wanted you to see me in the beginning and try to seduce you but after a while you hadn't and I just kept doing it hoping you would" your head fell in shame with tears on your face.

"I understand if you have me removed for this" you said in a low voice. He leaned across the desk

"no" he said, your headshot up surprised. He pulled you to his mouth and you moaned into his lips. your fingers begin to tug at his hair.

"Harry," you said breathlessly and he pulled back.

"yeah" he said

"fuck me" you said looking into his green eyes.

He stood from the chair, grabbing his belt and unbuckling it. He swiftly pulled his pants down, freeing his hard cock from his boxers.

"Come here princess, let daddy fuck you" he said, and like you were under a spell you pulled your clothes away and came to him. You kissed him roughly, his tip brushing your entrance and his head fell back.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna loss my job but I need to know what if feels like to be inside you" he said reaching between the two of you and stroking himself. You watch desperately and when his now dark green eyes meet yours he pulls you closer picking you up.

"Put your legs around my waist baby" he ordered slapping your thigh and you do as told letting out a gasp as he enters you making a snuggle for his cock. he grabbed your hips pulling you up and down his head falling back as yours comes forward into his neck to quiet your moaning and gasping as he pounds into your g-spot like he doesn't care if it makes you scream.

And although you want to be quiet for his sake and yours you can't seem to stop the loud noises coming from you and right into his ear.

"dear god [name], I'm gonna fall" he moans, pushing you up against the white board and thrusting into you again. you can't deny how hot and wet this makes you and you know you won't forget every time you see this board.

"Mr.styles'' you moaned out "yes princess," he answered, still rearranging your walls with each slam into your g-spot "it feels so good" you babble somehow fucked dumb already and Harry chuckles.

"I know, daddy's girl is taking his cock so well" he groans, kissing your neck with his teeth grazing it.

you nodded, feeding the older man's ego. He holds you tighter, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you steady and each thrust fills the class with a soft clap and ripple to your ass.

"you're so tight for daddy, squeezing his cock. Keeping him nice and warm, yeah?" he announced. you shiver, moaning and whimpering.

"daddy" you mutter against him.

"yes princess?" he groaned, gripping a handful of your ass.

"I'm gonna- I wanna" you stutter, your head falling back and he gently slaps your ass in warning for loud moans but he looks at you smugly. "cum for daddy" he whispered in your ear, tongue grazing the sensitive area. you let go, eyes rolling into the clouds and his name leaves your lips in a scream.

Hopefully Harry has a job Tomorrow…

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#harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles x oc #harry styles x pregnant!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x singer!reader #harry styles x actress!yn #harry x reader #teacher crush #hot teacher #smut

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purplekiwis · 1 year

Text

You've got a new professor, and an obsession with his hands...

Genre: Sculptor!Harry | Professor!Harry x Student!Y/N

Warnings: +18 (smut... but not yet)

Wordcount: 3.7k

A/N: i'm not the best at photomontages so please don't roast me, I tried 😅

THIS IS A MULTI-PART SERIES. YOU CAN CHECK THE SERIES MASTERPOST : HERE AND PART 2 HERE

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Hands.

His were artful,

Perhaps even an art form in and of themselves: smooth, veiny, with steady joints and capable and patient fingertips.

The hands of a craftsman - suitable for creating planets, galaxies, and even entire universes if they so desired. Both harsh and gentle, they tore, kneaded, and poked… only to stroke softly in the end.

The hands of a lover,

Those were my ceramics professor’s hands.

I bit the hidden part of my lip as I watched them move with conviction. Across the slickness, bare and sticky as they pried deeper and deeper, widening as they went and doing as they pleased.

I felt the urge to push my thighs together as I seemingly always did whenever my professor came closer, but I couldn’t because of the potter's wheel blocking my way - the one where he was fixing the crooked clay pot I had tried to make. “Next time, try using a little less water, okay? Your clay has gotten too soft… that’s why you're having trouble getting it even.”

“So less water than this time, but more than last time?” My struggle to get it right made me feel a little embarrassed, but I wanted him to know that I was listening and trying my best. He nodded in response to my question. “Okay, um- I'll try to do it correctly next time. Thanks for resurrecting my project and making it right again.”

My professor smiled warmly at me, noticing I was becoming discouraged by making so many mistakes. “No worries, I’m happy to help.” I watched him as he stood up, washed his hands in my water bowl and dried them on the rag he kept in his pottery apron. “Don't be afraid to muck around with what I've made. You're supposed to take it apart and rebuild it.”

“If I touch it, I'll ruin it and you'll need to come back for assistance again.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head. “I don't want you worrying about that. That’s why I’m here, to fix up your messes.” He sat on the stool next to me again for a moment, and when he spoke, he kept his voice low. “I want you to take it less seriously. Have fun with it — work it ‘til your wreck it. Don’t beat yourself up about it. That’s common blunder for someone who’s starting. We’ve all been there.”

“Thanks,” I smiled a little more assuredly. “I'll try to keep that in mind.”

He smiled back as he stood up from the stool. “No problem, just ask if you need anything.”

While I wasn’t sure how I got into the habit of fantasizing about my professor's hands, I did know how I ended up in his class.

I was a Product Design student.

Frankly, only because I didn’t have the grades to enroll in Interior Design like I’d always aspired to. Product Design was the second-best option that would still give me a chance of breaking into the field if I chose my classes wisely.

In order to achieve that goal, I had been planning to take a class on inclusive design this year. However, as I was about to submit my application, my computer crashed, forcing me to reenter all of my information again. Because of this, by the time I made it back to the page, most of the students had already chosen, leaving only statistical literacy and ceramics as open options.

None of those options had even the slightest appeal to me, which naturally made me incredibly frustrated at the time but, at least the choice was clear between them. Anything with the word statistics in it sounded absolutely dreadful and combining it with the word literacy somehow made it sound even worse… so I chose ceramics, despite the fact that I had never tried my hand at it.

That was why I was now behind all of my classmates, which didn't make me feel great, even though no one had made me feel inferior about my lack of skill yet… not even our professor. He was very sweet and attentive, without always being on top of me, which I appreciated. He gave me the freedom to try things on my own, but as soon as he noticed my eyes searching for him, he'd come over to check things out and lend a helping hand.

This wasn't always a positive thing because sometimes the only reason I was looking was because I couldn’t take my eyes off him. It wasn't just his hands that I kept staring at; I found him captivating in all aspects.

His hair was cool. I liked how he kept it in a messy bun and tucked flyaways behind his ears when they landed on his face. He dressed really cute too, I thought — creative yet casual, and the stubble he occasionally sported when he neglected to shave was sexy as hell.

I wasn’t fully aware of his age, but he couldn't have been much older than me when he had finished his Ph.D. in Fine Arts the previous year. In the rumor mill, he had been invited to teach shortly after earning his degree due to his extraordinary talent for clay sculpting, that had made him stand out at our university ever since he started studying there.

He hadn't shown much of his personal work outside of what he did during his school years, but I had heard through the grapevine that erotic themes were his specialty. Another thing I had heard was that because he made art under a pseudonym that he kept as a secret from most people, his work was very difficult to find online.

That bothered me a little because I was interested and wanted to see it, especially after learning that pleasure was the subject he enjoyed exploring the most. Among my classmates, I knew some made jokes about him being a pervert who had only wanted to come teach to score with the female students. My gut told me that wasn't the case, and I was miffed by those people who couldn’t comprehend that someone could find sex fascinating enough to want to depict it in most of their art without being sleazy. Fortunately, I wasn't one of them. I found sex to be an intriguing topic as well… I enjoyed having it, looking at it, and having thoughtful conversations about it.

“Professor,” I called as we finished class. I was still sat by my wheel, while everyone was cleaning and washing up. Being completely honest, I wanted to leave as well… but I made myself stay so I could make my pot look more presentable. “If you're leaving, could you please leave the room key with me? I was planning to stay a little longer.”

He seemed surprised that I wanted to stay.

I noticed his gaze fall on the collapsing walls of my pot as he handed me the key, but he was merciful enough not to comment. “Feel free to stay as long as you like. I'm taking a coffee break, but I'll be back as well.”

Finding that my professor was coming back made the prospect of staying more enticing. I wasn't expecting a lot of interaction with him, though… I didn't want to be a bother, so I would avoid requesting his assistance. It was already embarrassing enough to ask for it in class, even if he kept assuring me it was perfectly okay to do so…

Professor Harry returned to the classroom after about 10 minutes, seeming happy to find me still there. As he walked inside, he cracked a lighthearted joke about how surprised he was that I hadn't destroyed anything yet. I snorted a laugh and said that I was surprised too.

I observed him carefully as he re-tied his apron around his waist. It seemed like everything the man did attracted me. The way his triceps flexed with movement, the contours of his back, the ease with which his fingers tied the knot. None of these things escaped my attention.

“Would it be okay if I turned on some music?” Due to my dry mouth, it took me longer than it should have to answer his question. “I'm not a big fan of working in silence, but it’s okay if you are…”

“Oh, please, go ahead.” I was finally able to react, but my voice came out weird. “I don't particularly enjoy working in silence either...”

My professor smiled, then walked over to his desk and sat down at his laptop. “Have you got any special requests?”

I pretended to contemplate for a moment, but I didn't want to be the one picking the music. I wanted him to choose because I was nervous about accidentally having him listen to something he didn't like… and I was also curious about his musical tastes. “Not really, no. I'm not picky. I like most music.” That part was true, but he seemed skeptical. “Just pretend I'm not here and play whatever music you normally listen to.”

The look on his face was still skeptical, but he agreed. “Okay, I will. Just let me know if you don't like it so I can switch to something you like best.”

He put on Woodkid's Warm Core album and looked at me to see if I was keen on the choice. “This is cool. I like it.” It was the kind of alternative music I anticipated he would listen to, being an artist and all, and it made me happy because I also liked it.

“Alright, good. If at any point you decide that you no longer like it, feel free to request a change.” I was getting a little hot over how much he was focusing on making sure I liked his music. I’d always had this conviction that one of the ways to tell if a guy is good in bed is to look for signs that he is considerate and eager to please – and already, my professor was scoring points in that department. I glanced at him, and I believe he noticed because he asked, “Is there anything you need help with, or should I just let you do your thing and keep to myself?”

“Um…” I stammered, returning my attention to the horrible looking pot I was working on. I had been right the first time. I shouldn't have touched it after he fixed it for me. “I'm holding up for now. Thanks, professor.”

He smiled at me. “You can leave out the “professor” when we're outside of class. That term is still settling in for me… it's a bit off-putting to be addressed that way when I was also a student here just a year ago - especially when I can't be that much older than you, right?”

I joined him in his smile. “Yeah, I get what you mean. I suppose it's not weird for me because I don't remember seeing you at school last year. How old are you, though, just out of curiosity?”

“I’m 27, you?”

“Wow, you’re really old...” He wasn’t, really… especially since I had assumed he would be in his thirties, given that he was a professor and all. I snorted when he side-eyed me from across the room, where he’d been tidying up and organizing the equipment the students had left behind. “I was just kidding. I'm 22, so...”

His brows furrowed slightly in response to my reveal. “So you're a little older than the rest of the class. Makes sense, you seem a bit more grown-up in comparison to them.” I took that as a compliment because, while my classmates weren't much younger than me – they had to be around 19 – some still acted like teenagers in many ways. “Also, since you mentioned not seeing me at school last year… that’s because I went abroad for a few months to study, and then I had to wrap up my thesis, so I didn't come very often.”

“Oh, that's cool. Where did you go?”

“Norway, to Oslo more specifically. It's a city I think everyone should visit if they ever get the chance to. I had a wonderful time there.” He turned his head away from what he was doing to look at me. “Have you ever thought about going abroad for school?”

“I've thought about it, but I don’t know. It doesn't really call to me right now, to be honest... maybe next year.” I was really interested in hearing more about Harry's experience in Norway, so I shifted the focus of the conversation back to that. “What was the best part of it for you?”

I could tell he was excited to talk about it, as evidenced by the sparkle in his eye. “A difficult question, that. I loved the landscapes and food there, as well as the people. Oslo’s a beautiful city, and it has an amazing art scene that's definitely worth exploring.” He paused for a moment, laughed, and then spoke again, “But I guess I should say that meeting Astrid, my girlfriend, was probably the best part.”

“Wow, that's... something.” Something I'd rather he didn't have, I thought to myself despite my amenable expression. “Has she traveled all the way here with you?”

“Oh no, she stayed in Oslo. We've been doing long-distance and stuff… it isn't always easy, but we make it work.” I could tell by the look on his face that he had somewhat regretted sharing that with me. “Anyway, you should give the studying abroad thing some more thought... you seem like someone who would enjoy that kind of thing. You give off a good vibe.”

“Ha, thanks... so do you. I really like your style.”

I saw his cheeks flush at my compliment. “I don’t put a lot of thought into my clothes, to be honest. Most of the time, I just throw on whatever.”

“Well, it works, so...” Seeing me shrug, he smiled, but said nothing further. I figured the conversation was over and got back to my work. Harry did the same thing; except he was no longer cleaning up and was instead using his laptop. Even though I stayed another hour, he didn't leave until I did, which made me feel bad because it made me wonder if he had stayed on purpose to be there in case I needed anything. “Do you usually stay here until this late?” I inquired as he closed the classroom door.

“Um… it depends, sometimes I do, but if you weren't here I would’ve probably left earlier.”

His confession caused a small contraction in my heart. I now regretted staying for so long, especially since I had spent some of that time merely acting as though I was working. “Oh, I'm so sorry. You didn’t have to do that. I would have been fine by myself. I just wanted to practice.”

“Oh no, don't get me wrong. I stayed longer because I wanted to. I live alone, so… I am by myself a lot. It was nice to have company for a change.”

“Ah, I see...” That was something I hadn’t considered before, but it made sense. Most of Harry’s university friends were probably no longer around, or if they were, perhaps he'd lost touch with them after going away for so many months. That had happened to me with my high school friends, so I knew how it felt. “I was actually planning on doing this more frequently to see if I could improve my pottery skills, so… you're welcome to keep me company if that's something you'd like to do.”

He acknowledged my invitation with a courteous smile. “Ah, thanks. I appreciate that.” When he didn't respond right away, I assumed he wasn't interested, which made me feel stupid for having suggested it. Why would he want to spend time with a student five years his junior? He was probably cringing at the thought. That was what I was assuming, until he started speaking again after a pause. “I reckon as long as you really don't mind me being around, that could be something that works for me.”

•·················•·················•

Over the course of a couple of weeks, it became a habit for me and Harry to spend time together after class. Most times, more than once a week. The days when I didn’t have class until late, I would wander to the atelier after his class and spend the next few hours there. It was really easy to get along despite our slight age difference.

I didn't know Harry well enough to say that we had a lot in common, but we just clicked really well. Having a conversation with him was easy, and his presence was warm and reassuring.

We would sometimes work separately, but Harry had taken it upon himself to teach me the things I had been falling behind on. He taught me how to use a kiln to fire and glaze pottery, as well as a bunch of different building and decorating techniques. I liked the last one most because he got to sit next to me and help me paint and texturize. I was really proud of a mug we had made together. Harry had commented that the wavy handle I had made for it looked like the tail of a fish when we put it in, so we went on to decorate the rest of the mug to fit that concept.

“You’re a good painter…” He complimented me as I painted the fish’s fins. I wrinkled my nose at him. Painting had always been a fun activity for me, but I had never considered myself good at it. Harry, on the other hand, was a true artist, thanks to his Fine Arts training and skillful hands…

I looked at the fin I'd drawn and noticed that it was unmistakably more unsightly than the one on the picture I was taking inspiration from. Harry couldn't possibly believe I was talented as a painter. He was just trying to say something nice.

“What? I'm serious…” He assured me, appearing a little surprised by my doubtful demeanor. “And you have a great eye for color too.”

“Hmm, I find that last one is a little more believable; I'll take it.” I said before returning to straightening out my wonkiest brush strokes. I'd spent enough time designing pretty rooms in Intericad Lite to feel reasonably confident on my ability to mix and match colors so, accepting that compliment wasn't too difficult. Besides that isn’t really a talent, is it? It's something a lot of people have.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice drew my attention back to him. “I meant both of the things I said. I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t.”

The seriousness I was met with when I looked into Harry's eyes made me feel emotional and flustered at the same time. “Thanks,” I smiled a little before looking down at my mug. “I think I haven't gotten a compliment on my painting skills since I was a little kid…”

“You used to get compliments on it when you were little?”

“Sometimes, yeah… mainly from teachers because I always colored inside the lines.”

“I think it's really unfortunate that we stop getting compliments as we get older… I can't really complain because I've been lucky to grow up in a supportive environment, but I know that after a certain point in most people’s lives criticism becomes the norm, while praise for rightdoing is never given.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” I grabbed another brush and continued to color my mug because the topic we were discussing was now making me feel like I might actually start crying if I didn't keep my emotions under control, and I didn’t want Harry to see that. “My parents were never particularly supportive of me or my interests, so I haven’t felt much of a difference as I grew older… I think that’s why I find it a bit difficult to accept people’s compliments nowadays, though. I tend to doubt myself and others a lot.”

“I’m not gonna lie, I had a hunch that was the case with you.” Harry’s statement surprised me a bit. I knew professors could usually read their students well, but I wasn't aware of how see-through I was. “When we first started class, I was a little nervous because I could tell that you were lost at times and could use some help, but I wasn't sure of how to approach you. I was afraid that if I made it known that I could tell you were struggling, you would withdraw even further. I didn’t want that. I wanted you to feel comfortable and know that I wouldn't judge you.”

“You never made me feel uncomfortable… I just felt embarrassed to ask for help because everyone in your class comes from an arts background and knows more than me. I didn't want you to think I was dumb or that I was wasting your time with questions that I should have known the answers to.”

“You could never waste my time. I like teaching you a lot… you always listen and all the questions you ask are perfectly normal.” He gave me a reassuring smile and I felt my insecurities melt away with the rest of my body. “And on top of that, it's easier for me to teach you since you are a blank slate, as opposed to some of the art students who come with stubborn vices they won't get rid of. Experience isn’t always an advantage.”

“You're a really good professor, Harry.” I said truthfully. “I'm really glad I ended up in your class, even if it wasn’t my first choice.”

“It wasn't your first choice?” His face pretended to be shocked, but I knew he wasn't. Given that I had told him about my goal to pursue a career in Interior Design, I knew he had to have known by that point that there was no reason for me to be in his class other than by chance. “Okay, now I'm offended, and no amount of ego-puffing will help you remedy that…”

I shook my head and smiled at his antics as I dipped my brush back into the paint palette. “Not even if I admit you're really cool to talk to and have great musical taste?”

Following my brush dip, Harry dipped his as well. “Give me a little more detail on that and I might re-consider.”

•·················•·················•

I hope you guys liked this first part 💜

PART 2

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thedyingwriter · 1 year

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ok so hear me out. I have this feeling that as time passes steve's fashion sense evolves and he starts experimenting with colors and fabrics. around the present time or maybe let's say in the 2010-2020 decade when he's older and gay marriage is legal and he's finally able to openly express his sexuality and enjoy dates with eddie he dresses more boldly and tries to express his sexuality through his clothing. for some reason I don't know why i can imagine him having some kind of a similar style to present day harry styles. lots of pinks and pastels and rainbows, extra baggy jeans, cardigans, pearl necklace (i can really see him with pearls as a signature look) or any kind of accessories, frills and lace.

and since we all love the rockstar!eddie x teacher!steve trope so much it would be really funny to imagine the internet going crazy after finding out their favorite metal head who literally can't wear anything except black is married to a middle school teacher who dresses like harry styles.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #st4 #robin buckley #Nancy Wheeler #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #fruity four #harry styles #steddie au #steddie x reader #joe keery #joey quinn #rockstar eddie munson #teacher steve harrington

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finelinevogue · 1 year

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love me tomorrow

summary - you and Harry are high-school teachers and he loves you. the only issue is; you're a married woman

warnings: domestic abuse/violence - both emotional and physical, swearing, it’s very much a hurt/comfort piece. this is pretty heavy going and i need you all to know that abuse isn't okay, and i hope that you reach out to people if you need to. if you ever need a simple friend, for literally whatever reason, i'm always here! xx

pairing: teacher!harry x teacher!reader

word count: +13.8k

Life had been good to you. For the most part.

Life had given you a wholesome family who supported your every choice - even the drastic ones like choosing to live in Namibia for a year. Life had given you an incredible education, leading you on to a fulfilling life of educating the new generations. Life had given you so much love. Life had given you a healthy body and mind which you'd always cherished, up until recently.

Finding 'the one' in your life isn't supposed to be an easy road, but you were challenged with the hardest of them all.

Rodger Cassidy.

The name of the man who has made life feel meaningless and you feel worthless.

That night you believed you'd met your soulmate.

Until you realised you hadn't.

After two years of being together he popped the question - you thinking that he'd taken long enough. Now, though, maybe he hadn't.

Rodger, or Ro as you started to nickname him, was the sweetest. He always drove you to work and back. He always made you a coffee in the mornings. He always stayed up late if you were out with the girls. But then it all changed and you never understood why. Whether it was something creeping up on him from his past, the stresses of every day life or troubles with his family you just didn't know. All you knew it that you were the one he'd take his stress and anger out on at the end of the day.

The world had become a lot smaller since meeting Ro, both emotionally and physically. At first he stopped you from going abroad, saying that you didn't have the money to be wasting away on abroad luxuries anymore - but it was perfectly okay for him to be spending on gambling and alcohol instead. Then he cut you off from your friends and family, having texted them a long message explaining how they weren't suitable company anymore - but you were allowed to be friends with his druggie friends. Last, was not letting you out of the house unless he was with you or for work.

Never did you think that you would feel so trapped, but here you were.

Obviously you had put your foot down, each time, standing up for yourself and explaining that it wasn't okay to take away your freedom and your love like this. You'd even tried escaping one night through the window, to go to your best friends birthday party, but he caught you - explaining that if he ever found you leaving him again he'd kill you. Each time you would do something he didn't like, it would result in a beating - which is why you are very hypersensitive.

It wasn't worth trying to be you anymore, you had to play by his rules now.

Your only chance of escape was work and it was the best 6 hours of your day.

Working at a primary school was the greatest decision of your life, even after marrying Ro. You'd worked there before marrying Ro and it was the one sense of normality that he let you keep from what you like to call your previous life.

The primary school had never been the end goal. You had really wanted to teach undergraduates at university, because your lectures at university were awful and you wanted to change the system. However, getting a job as a lecturer was a lot harder than you thought not having considered that you would need a PhD to do so. So primary school teaching it was and it was the best decision of your life.

You'd found an advert online for support staff at 'Snowdrops Primary School' and loved the sound of it. You instantly sent in your resume and within a week they'd gotten back to you, stating how impressed they'd been with your CV and wanted to call you in for a taster session. Upon arrival they had told you on the low that you'd already got the job, but that they had to ask you in for a taster session due to protocol. Engaging with the kids that day was a happiness that you'd never felt in your life. They were so care-free, yet so vulnerable, and you promised yourself that you'd help them become the best versions of themselves. At the end of the day you had a long meeting, which resulted in them congratulating you on your new job with them.

It still is the best thing to have happened to you.

Getting to see your students grow every day, and at such a young age, was something very special to you. Knowing that they would go home feeling that little bit smarter was something you prided yourself on. Whether it be they'd learnt how to add four and two together, whether they'd successfully learnt how to spell their name or whether they'd managed to colour in a picture in between the lines, you were proud of all of them.

You taught a class of 14 and they were the best people in your life.

"You better be ready at 4:30pm Y/N. I'm going to be pissed if I have to come inside that stupid school and find you, again." Ro spat at you as he pulled up outside the school.

"O-okay." You answered quietly.

Before you could open the door he grabbed your wrist tightly, making you wince at how harsh it was. You couldn't escape from his grip if you tried though, his hand being tighter than a leather belt.

"Really pissed, so i'd be careful if I were you." He threatened.

You really couldn't deal with him today.

Escaping the car as quickly as possible you made your way swiftly in to the building. As you passed students you would say hello and good mornings, just as they would to you. Your class' students were already sat at their desks waiting for you, greeting you with a chorus of mornings as you said hello to them all.

The day went quite well actually, considering the awful morning you'd had. Rodger had "accidentally" pushed you down the last few stairs, making you land on your ankle in a, not so, funny way and bruising the entirety of your hip. It was as if someone had got purple paint and splatted it all over your left side. It hurt to sit down for reasons you didn't understand and then stand back up - so you did a lot of your teaching standing up today.

Luckily for you, you'd gotten quite good at hiding the pain over the years and so no one really questioned why there was an ever so slight limp in you left ankle, or why you kept on running a hand protectively over your left side.

On Friday's your class and Harry’s class would come together to do arts and crafts in the afternoon. Strictly, you weren't supposed to and instead were supposed to be coming together for additional maths or english lessons, but you and Harry thought that was a bit harsh on a Friday afternoon. After much persuasion you and Harry, collaboratively, managed to convince the head teacher to let the children's creativity flow instead hence creating an artistry period.

Harry’s students were a mixed class too, but his class were a little more rowdy than yours which you suspected had something to do with Harrys extroverted personality, compared to your introverted one. Your class were a lot more tranquil, but you weren't complaining.

They were your calm away from the storm.

This particular afternoon you had asked the kids to make an artefact for someone that meant a lot to them. Some inspiration you'd given was perhaps a card for your mum or maybe a name badge for a pet. It could be anything. Then on Monday, after they'd given their artefact to whoever, they would write a sentence or two about the reaction of the gift receiver.

You were currently sat with Hallie, one of your quietest students, and one whom you saw yourself in, working on her artefact. You were surprised when she'd asked whether she was allowed to make an artefact for Harry, or Mr Styles to her, but you told her as long as she gave it to him with a good enough reason then there was no problem there.

"What are you two mischiefs up to?" Harry asked, coming to sit down on the chair opposite you both, whilst you two continued to giggle.

"No Mr Styles! You can't see. Mrs Cassidy and I are painting for you." Hallie exclaimed, covering her little arms over the art that you'd been working on. Harry leant back against the chair, arms up in defence and looked at you instead of Hallie and her present.

"Sorry! Sorry Hallie. You both painted it though? For me?" Harry smirked, knowing he would tease you for this later - or maybe not when he finds out what it is. You squinted your eyes at him, already knowing his devious plot against you. You knew him too well for him to let this go.

"Yes, Mr Styles." Hallie nodded her head, glancing upwards to make sure Harry wasn't cheating. She looked up to see him watching you instead, noticing the sparkle in his eyes she saw in her own mum and dads. "It was Mrs Cassidy's idea to paint it, otherwise it would still be not colourful." She added, picking up a different paintbrush to use a different colour. Her grammar wasn't technically correct, but you hadn't learnt about sentence structure yet so neither of you felt the need to correct her.

"Mrs Cassidy?" You heard Jada shout politely from the other side of the room. She had her hand patiently waiting in the air and you felt slightly guilty over how long she'd been sat there waiting for you. You had been too caught up with Harry that you didn't even notice.

"I'm coming Jada." You shouted back, not wanting to have the full conversation with her from opposite ends of the classroom.

You got up from the chair you'd been sat in, wincing slightly from the shooting pain in your hip, and pointed you fore-fingers from your eyes to point at Harry, threatening him that you were watching him and that he better not try and persuade Hallie to show him his present if you weren't there. Harry held his hands up to you, which made you felt better about leaving. However, you didn't feel good about the concerned look in his eyes from when you'd stood up.

Jada put her hand down when you finally came over and started to help her with a glue problem she was having. Apparently Dennis, the boy sat next to her, and from Harry’s class no surprise, had glued her hands together for fun, but it had turned out to be stickier glue than they both expected. At least it wasn't superglue.

The class continued for an hour before you slowly wrapped up, letting some people showcase their artefacts. Dennis showed his name tag that he'd made for his pet fish, who was named after a certain clownfish from a beloved Disney movie - although it was written as the alternative spelling of 'Neemow'. Parker showed the snowflake that he'd made for his mum, with the help of Harry's cutting expertise.

It wasn't until after class, during the last recreational play time outside before the end of the day, that Hallie gave her artefact away.

"Mr Styles?" Hallie asked, holding her piece of art behind her back. You and Harry were tidying away the trays of colouring pencils, pens, glues and scissors back in to their assigned drawers.

"Hello Hallie." Harry stopped what he was doing and crouched down, seeing as he was a lot taller than her. He knew she had something to give her, since she'd been antsy about him seeing her art all afternoon.

"My gift is to you." She told him, swaying on the balls of her feet in nervous anticipation.

You watched the two interact as you filed away the paper into the correct trays, pushing the chairs firmly under the tables as you did so.

"Well thank you." Harry said gratefully, before even receiving it. Even if you didn't understand the reasoning behind the piece of art Hallie had created, you did know that Harry would get emotional over it.

Hallie cautiously moved her arms around front and presented her small token to Harry. She looked at him carefully, studying every facial expression carefully to see how well she'd done - or how badly. Harry was taken aback by the small, yet significant, gesture. It shouldn't have made Harry feel the way it did, but he could feel the tears starting to form in his eyes.

It was a medal.

Not just any medal though. Not a 'Number 1 teacher' or anything like that. It was a medal that had come from the heart. It was a 'You're my hero' medal. Harry didn't quite understand what he'd done to deserve such a thing, but he definitely thought it was the sweetest thing he'd received in a long time. He never expected to create such an impression on a student - especially one that he didn't even specifically teach.

"Do you like it?" Hallie asked, needing some sort of validation to know that her efforts weren't all for nothing. You knew that even if it were the ugliest looking thing in the world Harry would love it all the same. He would never have a bad word to say.

"Hallie I love it. Thank you, but what is it for?" He asked, making you listen extra carefully to her next words.

"Well it says you're my hero, because you made Mrs Cassidy smile the other day when she was upset."

Hallie's words made you freeze. You, thankfully, weren't holding anything to drop on the floor to create a ruckus. You were shocked, completely. You were glad you didn't have to say anything to her right now because your whole mind had shut down.

It baffled you that a girl of five years old could tell that you were upset. You had been upset, but you didn't realise it was that obvious. You started to feel a little guilty for making Hallie witness your dark moments. What made up for it was the fact that she'd noticed that Harry was there to make you feel better. She did the thanking on behalf of you both. Technically she had said that it was being made from both of you, but you never knew you were helping because of that reasoning.

This was hitting you hard.

"Wow. That's very kind of you. I'll keep it with me always." Harry promised.

"Thanks Mr Styles." You wanted to believe that she was thanking him in reply to his words, but you felt that she was thanking him on a deeper level - as if thanking him for making you smile.

More of the conversation occurred between them, but you were too lost in your own mind to hear them. You'd stopped putting away the equipment and were instead staring outside, looking up at the darkening clouds.

"You okay?" You hear Harry’s voice swoon around you. You looked to the side of you and gave him a half-hearted smile, nodding your head since no words were able to form yet. "Hey, you can smile better than that. I would know." He proudly held up the medal for you to see, which made you genuinely laugh. "Didn't get this medal for nothing, Y/N/N."

You smiled to yourself, knowing you were beyond blessed to have this man in your life.

•••••

Life wasn't so blessed at home, however.

Luckily for you, you'd made it on time to meet Rodger, but unluckily it still didn't mean you were in the clear tonight.

Tonight was game night, which was the worst. Rodger would be always watch the footie with a bottle of beer, or seven, in one hand and a blunt in the other. These were some of the worst nights, because all the drugs and alcohol he took would never hit him until later on in the evening and that's when his rough side came out.

You wished you could prevent the inevitable, but it was just impossible.

Rodger had removed all the locks from the doors, bar the front door and back door, so you couldn't blockade him from you. You did that once, locking yourself in the bathroom, but when he broke down the door and found you in the bathtub he punched you so hard you passed out - you didn't wake until 14 hours later. He hadn't even taken you to hospital.

There were times, one game night, where his mates would come around. When that was the case you were absolutely degraded. He made you wear short, and tight, skirts, along with crop tops that were just exposed for too much, and serve them all beers and cigarettes throughout the evening. If you were well behaved, which had only happened once, then he let you go to bed early, otherwise he would openly hit you in-front of his friends. You thought that one of them might've helped, but they all just laughed - or joined in. It was those times when you wished you were never born.

He is nothing more than a monster.

"Y/N?" You heard Rodger shout from down the corridor. "Y/N!" He shouted louder, not even giving you two seconds before replying.

"Coming." You calmly replied back. You'd learnt that if you shouted back then it would make everything so much worse. One time, because he knew you were just taking the hits and not fighting back he got bored and let you be for the rest of the evening - he made up for the lack of abuse the next day though.

You walked down the hallway, a fresh cold beer in hand, and in to the lounge. He was sat, in the scruffiest of clothes and untidied beard, in his usual chair watching Tottenham play Sheffield United. He didn't even support either team so you didn't understand why he had to watch it - especially if it made his anger worse.

"Fucking took your time." Was his response for you giving him his new beer. No thanks given.

You're welcome, honey.

"Sorry, it won't happen again." You apologised, leaving your head to hang low. He hated when you looked at him if he wasn't speaking directly to you - something about you gross eyes staining his image. "Anything else?" You asked, just wanting to leave.

"Yeah, actually. You're staying home next Monday because the lads and I are watching the Seven Nations." He told you without a care in the world for your schedule. Did he realise you were holding down a full-time job as a teacher, which meant you worked on the weekdays?

"But i'm working then?" You questioned, thinking that maybe he'd meant to say Sunday instead - well more like hoping.

"Well you're fucking not." He dumbly said in reply.

"Ro, I have a full-time job. Can't you find someone else?" You offered, slightly annoyed that you were going to have to take time off work just to be humiliated in front of his loser friends. It just wasn't fair. You wanted to be in school, safe, with your wonderful students and your amazing co-staff (but mainly Harry).

"Are you fucking saying no to me?" Rodger asked, pausing the game to look up at you. Oh, this wasn't good. Nice going, Y/N...

"No, well, I mean—" You didn't know what to say to make this situation better, but you only knew of one way this night was ending.

"You said no. Didn't you?," He tauntingly asked, "and don't lie to me, bitch." He gritted through his teeth making your heart beat faster with anxiety. You really didn't have a way out of this tonight. Sometimes, as gross and disgusting as it was and made you feel, you could persuade him over with sex, but it was a last resort in case you felt like you were on the verge of passing out. You knew that using your body like that was wrong, but sometimes it was the only way of making him stop.

"Sorry, Ro." You quietly speak.

"Sorry? You're fucking sorry? No you aren't, but you will be." He stood up from his chair and made his way over to you. You backed up a bit before getting pulled back to Rodger with his strong grip. You let out a gasp as he pulled you, feeling very manhandled - literally.

"I am Ro, I am." You pleaded, knowing that you would be sore tomorrow. Before you could protest anymore a deafening strike sounded and it only took seconds for the stinging in your cheek to strengthen, and become excruciatingly painful. You wanted to cry but you knew this wouldn't be the worst of your evening and thought it would be easier if you cried later, knowing Ro would only go harder if he saw the pain he was causing.

"Shut the hell up and stay fucking quiet." He awarded you with another hit to the same spot he had only done a minute ago - but harder. This bruise would be a hard one to clean and cover up.

You don't remember how much longer he carried on for, but he didn't stop until you'd collapsed to the floor begging him to stop. You were so tired and exhausted that you got the point where you couldn't even physically beg him to stop.

At the end of the night you ended up with a bleeding and bruised cheek, a possible broken rib and no more tears left to cry, with hopes that things may get better soon.

•••••

Two weeks later, and a little more black and blue, it was another Friday.

Fridays were always your favourite, not necessarily because you had the weekend within reach but because your class and Harrys class got to mix - meaning you got to see Harry without excuse.

This Friday you had been learning a bit of music. Harry thought that the creative arts worked hand in hand with music, as it was often the inspiration for a lot of famous pieces, and brought it onto the curriculum. The children got to mess around with triangles, ukuleles, bongos and recorders, however you took the recorders away when you soon realised you would rather be deaf than listen to them play any more.

Bless them for trying, but no.

It was coming towards the end of the session now and the students were starting to become tireder, which is exactly what you'd expect towards the end of the day. They were all sat quietly at the front of the room, on the carpeted floor, waiting for further instructions from their teachers. It was nice to see them sat with people across classes, because it meant that they were sociable and weren't sticking to people who they were comfortable and familiar with.

Hallie was sat with Henry, who was from Harrys class. They kind of reminded you of you and Harry - Hallie being the quiet introvert and Henry being the loving extrovert. They got along well and you wouldn't be surprised if they end up in a 'best-friends-since-childhoood' relationship when they grow up.

As you finished collecting in the last of the sheet music that you'd been practicing off you noticed someones hand go up from the corner of your eye. Harry seemed to have it under control, however.

"Yes, Dora. What can I do for you?" He asked, which enabled to put her hand back down. Dora was from his class.

"Mr Styles? Do you think you could play the guitar for us?" Dora asked politely. Before Harry could answer there was a sweet chorus of gasps and agreements from all of the children - even Hallie.

"Oh I don't know." Harry brushed it off, feeling slightly self conscious to play in front of you. You knew that he could play the guitar, because you saw him often transferring it from his car to his classroom. You would be strongly lying if you said you didn't dream about him playing the guitar for you. You could only imagine the angelic voice he had too.

"Please Mr Styles." Dora encouraged him, using her best puppy-dog eyes to persuade him.

"Yeah, go on Mr Styles." You chimed in, surprising Harry. He smirked and shook his head at you, pretending to give you the evil eyes. You knew that with you joining in he would definitely play for you all.

"Oh alright then." Harry huffed as if it was a chore, but you knew that we was very excited to be playing for you all - especially you. He picked up his guitar and threaded his head through the guitar strap - the same one he'd painted in a Friday afternoon art class once. The back of his guitar was covered in artistic stickers that his class had designed, but if you looked closely you would see your name amongst them - engraved by using a threading needle. He'd told you he wanted your name more permanent than everyone elses'.

He strummed once or twice before turning to Dora.

"What would you like me to play, Dora, since you asked for this?" He asked. You knew Harry was musically gifted and it wouldn't take him long to figure out the chords for any song. He loved playing anything by The Beatles, that much you knew, but you were sure he'd give anything a go if he tried hard enough.

"Um.." Dora looked up to the ceiling as if it would give her inspiration, before answering, "I like that one you performed the other day." She vaguely answered.

"Do you remember what is was called?" Harry asked, tuning his guitar whilst he waited patiently.

"I think it was called 'hello there delly-a'." She answered, which caused Harry to look at her with confusion. He was normally good at interpreting what children meant when they didn't really know how to say things, but this was out of his expertise.

"Erm—" Harry got tongue tied over his words.

"Do you mean 'Hey There Delilah', Dora?" You stepped in for Harry, after silently chuckling at how lost he'd looked.

"Yes, yes, please." Dora excitedly nodded her head at you, before turning back to face Harry expectantly.

"Oh okay." Harrys face was one of sudden realisation, winking at you in thanks for helping, before he started playing the infamous melody. "Hey there Delilah, what's it like in New York City..."

•••••

For the longest time all you could think about was the dreams of becoming a dancer.

You had ballet and tap classes when you were little, probably up until you were twelve years old, and then you decided it was uncool to dance anymore and so quit. You were really good though, so it was stupid of you to have quit. It didn't matter though because Rodger would've just made you quit anyways.

That's why on another particular, late, Friday afternoon you found yourself on the green roof of the school. Up here was your safe space - where you knew you were out of reach from Rodger, but also away from the watching eyes of staff and students.

It was a place to feel free.

You took care of the plants up here for the caretaker, Mike, knowing he had enough on his hands already than to take extra care of these greens. It was a personal garden of eden paradise up here. You were very proud of it. You'd come up here, this afternoon, to water the plants, but the rain showers had decided that they'd do it for you today - not that you were complaining because it saved you a job.

You were under a small sheltered area of the roofed area, attending to your nursery of baby plants, containing sunflowers, roses and tulips to name but a few, on the other side of the roof to the door. You had The 1975s music playing in the background, wanting to fill the void of emptiness with soul-filling music. It had started to rain when you were on the other side of the roof and now you were contemplating waiting the rain out. You did have to be downstairs in time for Rodger to pick you up though, otherwise it wouldn't end well.

"Y/N?" You heard your name called across the roof and you had to squint a bit to see who it was through the pellets of rain.

"Harry?" You asked back, checking it was him and your eyes weren't deceiving him.

"What are you doing out here?" He shouted, from where he was stood protected under the frame of the door. He had his arm over his eyes to stop the rain from blowing in to them.

"Gardening." You replied.

"Of course you are." Harry muttered under his breath, but you swore you heard every syllable as it was carried in the wind.

"Come look." You gestured your arm for him to come and have a look at your babies. You plants were currently fertilising and producing their own children, and you though there was something so organically beautiful about watching it. They were so delicate, yet so clever - which you felt resembled you in way and Harry would strongly agree.

Harry ran over to you, not taking a second to question how drenched he was about to become. If it meant he got to spend some extra time with you, putting an extra smile on your face then he would run in the rain all of the time. He felt blessed to have moments like this with you.

"I can't believe I just ran through the bastard rain just to see your plants." Harry rolled his eyes when he was next to you.

"Well thank you, I guess." You laughed, taking in his drowned rat appearance. He pulled it off nicely actually.

"Yeah, too right." Harry sarcastically added, making you sport a harmless smile.

The music cut to the next song and you instantly gasped. It was your favourite song of all time. It was a very sad song, but one that you related to on a lot of levels. You felt as if the musician was speaking out to you solely, which is why it was crowned your number one.

The Most Beautiful Things - Tenille Townes

You didn't say anything but just grabbed Harry's hand and ran out into the rain with him.

"Y/N? What the fu—"

"Oh shut up and live a little Harry." You told him off, not wanting him to ruin this moment with his wingeing. You kept ahold of his hand and pulled him closer than you both thought professional. His chest was touching yours and you could hear his heart beat through his chest.

"What are you up to?" Harry asked, absolutely soaked through from the rain now. No doubt you looked even worse than him because of your longer hair.

"We're going to dance." You proudly stated, the raindrops coating your eyelids.

"Oh I don't think so." Harry attempted to pull away but not so hard that he'd pull you over with him. Part of him didn't pull too hard, as well, because he wanted to dance and embarrass himself in front of you. He knew of your passion for dance and anything that he did was going to be shameful compared to you.

"Just come here. I'll lead. It'll be fine." You assured him, knowing that everyone had a little rhythm in them somewhere. He was a musician, also, so surely he knew how to feel the beat and go with the flow.

He was a terrible dancer.

You'd seen bad dancers and then there was Harry. He had two left feet, no doubt about it, but he tried bless him. Normally it was custom for the gentleman to lead the woman, but this time it was the other way round. You didn't mind and Harry didn't either. He was enjoying being near you, whilst he watched you enjoy yourself dancing.

The waltz wasn't an easy dance, but you'd never met someone who couldn't get the hang of it as much as Harry didn't. It was endearing, really.

"I haven't danced in so long, this is amazing!" You laughed, swallowing down some raindrops as you spoke.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself - even if I have probably broken just about every bone in your foot." Harry was laughing because you were, feeling terribly awful for stepping on your feet so much. A few minor bruises were, wrongly, not that important nowadays.

"No you haven't," you rolled your eyes before smirking, "you've just broken the left ones." You cleverly replied, knowing that he'd been stepping on your left foot more than your right.

"Oh god, don't tell me that." He shook his head, feeling even worse than he had before - although he knew that you were only messing with him he still couldn't help but feel bad. Maybe he should offer you some ice for your feet?

"Just need a bit more practice, that's all." You tell him, after coughing from a mouthful of accidental rainwater.

"Well I already have a good teacher." Harry was quick to respond, and if you knew better you would've caught on that he was flirting with you. You missed his subtle hint at a second, or even a third, dance lesson with you, but he wasn't too disheartened because he knew you were just that blindingly oblivious.

You looked up at him in awe of his words. It meant a lot to you to be told you were a good teacher, because that in turn meant you were a good dancer. You were looking deep in to Harrys eyes, finding them the most beautiful emerald gems that you'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. Rodgers were supposed to be green, but you never saw them for anything other than a terrifying black so it was nice to see the green again - even it was on someone different. Harry's shone brighter than Rodger's ever could. The rain trickling over his eye lids helped reflect that jade green that you were so infatuated with.

His lips were so entrancing.

You took your eyes off his hypnotic eyes for only a second to look at his lips, and now you couldn't look away. They were like a drug. They looked liked the softest, most sweetest tasting, lips you'd ever been lucky enough to see. You leant in slowly, his lips having an invisible magnetic pull on them that you couldn't escape. You were so close that you could taste his minty breath on the tips of your tastebuds. You couldn't care less about Rodger in that moment, knowing he would never know, but you did care about Harry.

You cared for him a lot, which is why after ghosting his lips for a little while you were thankful that your phone vibrated in your pocket. You closed your eyes in regret of not taking it any further with Harry, but knowing it was the right thing to do. Wasn't it?

"Excuse me a moment." You felt guilty for cutting Harry off mid-dance, and near-kiss, even though he said that is was perfectly fine, still standing amidst the torrential rain, but this was probably important. In fact you knew it was important, because the only contact on your phone was Rodger. You took it out and read it carefully.

Rodger: Going to the pub now. Get ready for it bad later.

You cursed yourself for being so stupid. This morning Rodger had threatened you, again, that he wouldn't go easy on you if you were later - and now that's exactly what you were. How had you let yourself so carelessly slip up? Of course you wouldn't have changed a moment of what just happened with Harry, even if it meant your abuse would be less. The time spent with Harry was something you really cherished and you weren't willing to give up your source of happiness just yet.

"What is it? Everything okay?" Harry asked, noticing how your face had paled since reading your phone.

"Just my husband telling me he's coming home soon. I should probably get going." You told Harry, feeling bad that you were just leaving him after such a wonderful afternoon. He made you feel alive through the dark days. He brought light to the endlessly inky tunnel. He added that bit of sparkle in your monotonous life.

"Oh, yeah, no problem." Harry nodded, standing back to create a bit of distance between you. The air felt a bit thicker from the tension that both of you were creating.

"Thanks for dancing with me, Harry." You genuinely smiled at him, because he had managed to make you feel carefree for the first time in a long while. It was rare nowadays for you to have a joyous moment in your life, but instead it was filled with fists to the jaw, scratches to the skin and kicks to the gut.

"Thanks for the dance lesson." He responded, laughing as he remembered how terribly he had just danced. You were surprised he hadn't broken and ankle or a wrist with the way he had been moving his limbs. He was like an elegant spider, is the best way you could describe it.

"Rain-check?" You asked mischievously, looking down at your soaked through sun-dress.

"Think it's a little late for that now, love." Harry let out a bellowing laugh as you had spoken, before answering with his own witty comeback.

"At least you aren't walking home in it." You joked, holding open the door for him to let you both back inside the building. You didn't expect him to be so closely following, but it felt nice. Rodger, although being physically close to you when he was mistreating you, never was actually close to you. He never hugged you. He never held you close at night. He was just there. Having Harry so close to you, in an affectionate way, was a warm feeling that you wished could last forever.

"Hold on. You're walking home in this?" Harry stopped you suddenly by grabbing lightly on your arm. He had placed his hand so tactically though. He had placed it between two, rather large, bruises on your upper arm. You didn't understand how he'd missed both of them, but he had. Even when he held you though, it was very soft that it wouldn't be leaving any marks of his own.

"Don't remind me! But yes." You answered, rolling your eyes to the heavens for letting your days always turning out the worst.

"Absolutely not." Harry scrunched his face up in disgust.

"W-what?" You stuttered, thinking you'd made him angry and your mind automatically working out the worst situation that could happen here. You were pissed at yourself for even thinking that Harry would harm you in such a way, but it was unfortunately just how your mind was wired now.

"I'm going to drive you home. I'm not letting you walk home in these showers - no way." He commented. pointing to the window where you could barely see 10 metres because of how heavy the rain was. You were about to argue with him about how you would be "fine", but he beat you to it. "And i'm not taking no for an answer."

He smugly walked off towards the teachers staff room. You were left stunned for a moment before realising that he'd been so kind to offer you a ride home. You ran down the corridor, trying to catch up with him, before accidentally slipping from your wet heels and going flying down on to the floor. It shocked you at first, rolling on to your side to groan to try and ease the winded parts of your body.

Harry must've heard you thump on the floor because you could hear his shoes running back to you, whilst trying not to slip himself.

"Y/N!" He shouted, not being able to see your face to know if you were even conscious. You immediately felt his knees at your side, probably apprehensive of touching you incase you were severely hurt. "Y/N, shit, can you hear me? Y/N/N, hey?" You could hear the panic in your voice and you started to feel sorry for him.

That's when you rolled back onto your back laughing. You had been silently chuckling to yourself the entire time, finding the humour in such an embarrassing situation. Now you felt bad for Harry who had actually been concerned for you.

You couldn't stop laughing and Harry looked stunned.

"You little—" Harry started but never finished, wiping his top lip in frustration. When you didn't stop laughing though it began to become contagious and Harry was soon laughing too.

"I'm sorry!" You continued to laugh through your words.

"You're such an ass." Harry shook his head, holding out a hand for you to take in order to get you back to your feet.

"Yes, a definite bruised ass." You agreed, adding a compulsory, and very truthful, adjective in there. Harry didn't give you any visible sympathy, though, because he was pretending to be pissed off at you for pranking him. In reality you were too winded and caught up in the giggles to realise how concerned you'd made Harry.

"Well let's get you and your bruised ass home." He held onto your hand as he lead you down the hallway to get changed, before going to his car to head home.

•••••

After much deliberation on the way here, you'd decided that you were going to invite Harry to come inside. Your only problem was if Rodger came home early. You knew he would be at the pub right now, boozing himself up for later on when he comes home and treats you to his fist. If you ever accidentally missed his curfews or deadlines your punishment would ten times worse - and so with that thought in mind you needed someone to be with you right now.

Not just anyone though - just Harry.

"Please come in and try to make yourself as comfortable as possible." You say, knowing full well that it would be impossible for him to do so.

"Oh I don't need to intrude, Y/N. Just needed to make sure you got back okay." Harry spoke from outside your front door. His hands were stuffed in his pockets to keep them toasty warm from the cold - which wasn't helped by the fact you'd just danced in the rain. You could already see his little button nose turning pink from the icy weather.

"You're not intruding, Harry. In fact, I could do with the company right now." You kept latched to the door, not shutting it until he was inside your property. He could tell, from the shakiness of your voice, that you needed him and he was more than willing to be there for you.

It was very dark inside your house, only having one or two lights you could turn on because Rodger was very adamant on keeping the electricity bill low- mainly so he had money left over at the end of the month to pay for drugs or cigarettes. Alcohol he would just ask you for any money you had left in your purse. You wished you could use that money to spend on a dance class down the road, or even treat yourself to that pretty summer dress, but instead it was wasted on Jack Daniels or Disaronno.

"Your house is... sweet?" Harry asked rather than stated, as he made his way inside, making you laugh at him because you knew he was lying.

"It's a pig sty, Harry, is what you meant to say." You spoke for him, which earned a laugh back out of him.

"What?" Harry dragged out the word sarcastically, moving to follow you around the house. You stepped in to the lounge warily, just in case Rodger had decided to make a surprise appearance home. You let out a relieved sigh to not see him in his usual arm chair.

"Please." You pointed to one of the more comfortable sofas, not wanting him the displeasure of having him sit down where the springs would bounce beneath your bottom. They were so uncomfortable, but that's all you can afford when your monthly income is spent on illegal substances.

"Thanks." He smiled the best he could, given he was quite literally in the shittiest shithole to ever exist. From the outside he was prepared to be impressed, if not even a little jealous, but those were far from the feelings he was surrounded by right now. His main feelings were weighted towards his sorriness for you. You deserved so much more than this.

"Apologies for the exercise books everywhere." You were behind on marking the kids books, but you were planning on doing it later on tonight - after Rodger was done with you.

"I'm exactly the same, don't worry about it." He chuckled back.

After sitting in silence for a moment or two you noticed a small book in his pocket, only big enough to fit in there. It was tattered and had various drawings on the skin of it. He'd definitely had it a while and then some years. You wished that you'd kept a diary throughout your years, you'd be able to look back in the future and see whether life had changed. You hoped it would change, because you didn't think you had it in you to live many more years in this life.

"What's the notebook for?" You asked, trying to start up the conversation again.

"Oh... it's nothing." Harry fumbled to choose his words, which made you believe he was hiding something - a technique you were well aware of because you used it all the time. You'd hidden many things from Rodger using that technique.

"Harry," you gave him a sarcastic look, "come on." You laughed, not understanding what was so secretive about it. Maybe it was a book of his daily calorie intake? Maybe it was just a general diary? Maybe, but hopefully unlikely, it was a list of people he'd murdered? For someone who didn't watch the TV, you sure were paranoid of the fantasy malarky.

"Y/N honestly, it's nothing." Harry sighed, trying his hardest to shove it away so you'd have one less reason to think about.

"Harry. It seriously can't be that bad." You rolled your eyes at him to catch him gulp nervously. He looked like he'd seen a ghost, making you feel a lot more paranoid than you had been two seconds ago.

"You don't need to know what's in it." Harry explained cautiously, choosing his words carefully. His secrecy and closed off behaviour reminded you a lot of Rodger. Rodger would never give you a straight answer, and you were never allowed to know anything more than he let you. You didn't know anything more about his side of the family since you last saw them at your wedding. You knew nothing about the bills that were being paid for the house and taxes. Rodger was completely restrictive of the knowledge he gave you and you only prayed that Harry wouldn't be the same.

Harry was nothing like Rodger, though.

"No Harry. I-I want to know what's in it." You shakily pointed towards the little notebook, starting to tear up now, that he'd tried to stuff back in his pocket away from your view. "Please."

"Y/N I don't think that—" Harry tried to reason with you, but he knew better than for you to give up that easily. You were a fighter and that was something he greatly admired about you.

"Just l-let me see." You lurched across the sofa towards him and grabbed the little leather bound book from his pockets. He hadn't managed to push it all the way back in, so it made it easier for you to take. Technically this was stealing and invading someones privacy, but you had a gut feeling that the contents of the book had something to do with you. You didn't know whether that settled you or made you feel uneasy, but you were going to find out.

"Y/N—" Harry sighed, giving up on trying to fight against you.

It was time for you to know that he knew. It was time for this to end. It was time.

You sat in silence as you cautiously opened the book, undoing the small straw tie there was to open it. Your shaky hands stumbled upon opening it, making you drop it on to the floor and ended up with you mumbling an apology to Harry - something you knew was unnecessary but had gotten in to the habit of because of Rodger.

You turned to the first page and were met with something you were slightly taken aback by, not because it outrageous but because it was unexpected. Harry had kept the little medal that you, and Hallie, had drawn and coloured for him. The little badge that told him that he was both your heroes - well, he was definitely yours.

"You kept it?" You asked quietly, your tears falling more silently now, dumbfounded that he'd kept it.

"Of course I did. You told me I was your hero so obviously I had to keep the badge as proof." He smiled and spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Then why is it in your notebook?" You asked, still in love with the fact he'd kept such, what you believed to be, and insignificant piece of coloured-in paper. You looked from the piece of paper to Harry, frowning when you noticed the sadness within his eyes.

"I use it as a bookmark." He gulped, making you feel heavy amount of nerves weigh on your shoulders.

"F-for what?" You hiccuped over your words. He didn't respond, letting you find out for yourself.

He looked down at the book and you could see tears start to form in his eyes. He looked scared, even more than you probably did, which worried you. You turned your watery eyes towards the notebook, preparing to turn the page. You let out a shaky breath and felt Harry move closer to you - your kneecap now touching his. The paper felt delicate between your fingers - kind of how you were feeling, as if you touched it too hard it would fall apart. Then you finally turned the page, letting a frown settle on your face as you read it to tried and understand.

Monday 9th January

You first read; the day in which you went back to school after the Christmas holidays.

•Limping - could be pulled muscle or maybe twisted ankle? •Slight bruising on lower forearm •Scratch on side of neck

It was beginning to make sense what Harry was keeping a note of.

•Sore throat - potentially from shouting?? •Total smiles = IIII.

You couldn't read anymore because you had started sobbing without realising. Harry was keeping a check on how you were every day and every single thing he could pin down that was not okay with you. He wasn't picking out your physical flaws, but instead your physical mistreatment. He knew and you hadn't said anything to him. You'd only read one entry, but you were sure there was one for every day - including today. You needed to truly know.

"H-how many?" You choked out, your sobs coming out heavy and loud. You noticed how Harry was now cradling you, rocking you back and forth. Your mind was in so many places that you were having a hard time focusing in on what was presently happening around you.

You felt safe though. His arms made you feel protected, like if Rodger now walked through the door, which was still a possibility, you would be perfectly fine. For once, you felt safe in your own home and that feeling alone made you emotional. Not in years had you felt this way and you didn't want the feeling to ever go away.

"Y/N I—"

"Harry, p-please." You cut him off, not wanting him to tiptoe around the subject. You'd let your guard down and you right now you were completely defenceless.

"There's two years worth of entires." Harry boldly stated, making you cry even more. You weren't crying because you were offended or angry at Harry. You weren't even crying because he'd known and hadn't reached out to you, because you knew that you would've never told him the truth. You were crying, however, because he was making you realise how much you'd been through and how long you'd suffered for. You were tired - so tired - and it took you seeing what was happening, written down on paper, for you to come to terms with that.

You couldn't do anything but cry. You finally had someone who knew and it felt amazing. All those sleepless nights wondering whether you'd even be alive in the morning. All those days when you'd thought about ending it yourself. All those days when you cried until you felt numb, just to soften the pain. All those days, were over. You knew Harry wouldn't let this carry on now - not over his dead body.

"You're okay." "You're safe." "I've got you." Were some of the phrases that Harry kept on repeating to you. He was adamant on helping you understand that nothing bad was going to come of you now that you had him by your side.

"I-i'm so-rry Ha—"

"Hey, no, no. I don't need an apology Y/N/N. I need you to be okay, okay? I need you understand that none of this is your fault. None of it. You are so special Y/N/N and you don't deserve any of this, okay? I need you to understand that I can no longer sit back and do nothing, but write in my notebook anymore, though, okay?" He spoke a lot of words and you found it within you to listen to every one of them. Some of them made your cry harder than others and some of them made you love him more than you already did.

"What d-do I do?" You asked, still buried against Harrys chest. He was still rocking you gently and kissing the top of your hair occasionally, reminding you that he was permanently here.

"You don't have to do anything, love, but just walk a little for me, okay?" He asked to which you nodded, letting a bunch of hiccups overtake your system momentarily.

"W-what if Ro-dger i-is—"

"Then i'm here. He won't come within a metre of you if I have anything to do with it. I promise." He pulled your head out of his chest and made you look at him, so you'd know that he was honest about protecting you with everything he had.

"O-okay." You nodded, weakly smiling in thanks of everything he was doing.

"Okay." Harry agreed. You shakily stood up, holding on to Harrys arm for support. Your body was so tired and you could feel your brain wanting to shut everything down so you could rest. You just had to keep everything going for a few more minutes and then you could finally let up. The idea of a warm, plush, bed with blankets to spare, right now, was all your heart was set on.

Harry took his arm around your waist to carefully walk you out of the house. You no longer wanted to label it as 'your house', because in reality it never had been and it never felt like it. You were ready to move from this shithole and on to something better.

After making it to Harrys car he strapped your seat belt in and made sure you were comfortable. He asked whether you needed or wanted anything from the house, but you explained that never had been anything there of yours. It was all crap furniture that you'd never want to see again and it wasn't like you'd been anywhere to keep ahold of souvenirs. You just needed your handbag and yourself. Harry made quick work of locking the house door and then running back to the car to get going.

"Can I-I sleep now?" You asked, pulling your jacket tighter around you, as Harry put his car in to reverse.

"Yes, love, you can sleep now."

The last memory you had was Harry pushing your hair out of your face before blacking out, feeling nothing but out of harm's way.

•••••

Harrys house was beautiful and you were glad you'd woken up in time to see it.

It was a little terraced house on a quaint road. The beautiful thing about the houses were they were painted in all different colours of the pastel rainbow. It started off as a soft-cherry red that lead into an apricot orange, that lead into a sherbet yellow, that continued all the way to a lavender. They definitely lived up to the name of the street they lived on "Rainbow Road". You thought it was genius.

Just before you were going to ask which one belonged to Harry he pulled up outside the sherbet yellow one. You would've guessed him to live in the apricot orange, but you were happily surprised. The yellow was a nice pick-me-up, filling you with so much joy you could burst.

"Wow." You gawked at the house from the insides of the car. You were expecting a four bedroom house with white picket fencing, maybe even a secret wife that he kept very, very, secret, but no. Harry lived in a smaller house than you, walls coated in a gentle lemon and in a neighbourhood that seemed as soft, and calm, as Harry was.

It was simply put; quite serene.

"You like it?" Harry asked, nervous tones in his voice. He hoped it was something a little brighter than you were used to.

"Harry, it's so charming," you turned your head from the house towards him, making him look right back at you, "a lot like its owner really." You blushed when you spoke, not having a clue where your confidence had come from.

"Oh really? Want to butter me up any more, love?" He teased you, taking your compliment and planting it permanently inside his mind. You'd called him charming and he would never shut up about it until the ends of time.

"N-no." You let out between giggles. You were at peace with yourself in this moment.

"You sure? I mean, i'll take all the compliments I can get to be honest." He put his hands up in defence, and you sat back to watch him own the moment. You rolled your eyes at his narcissism, before moving to let yourself out of the car. Harry followed swiftly, locking up his car before unlocking his front door.

After he'd turned the alarm off, he waited for you to enter before locking back up and ridding himself of his shoes. His house was quite chilly, which he apologised for as a result of leaving the heating off during the day when he's at work. You had no quarrel with that, finding his passion for the global green very considerate.

"Come through, please. I can put the kettle on if you want and maybe a biscuit of some kind. I have ginger nuts or custard creams if they appeal to you," whilst Harry took himself through to the kitchen you couldn't help but freeze up in the hallway, getting all teary eyed, "I have to say though my favourite biscuit would probably be—" Harry stopped when he walked back to see you crying. His heart dropped at the sight. Of course seeing anybody cry is a horrible sight to witness, but seeing you crew was almighty worse.

"Sorry, Harry," you shook your head in embarrassment, "it's just i'm quite overwhelmed at how lovely you are and the support you're willing to give me and it's all just quite a lot, sorry." You rambled, letting a few stray tears fall. If there were a competition for who could cry the most in 24 hours, you would win first place and then some more.

"Hey, no, it's completely fine. I should have been more sensitive, I apologise. We can just go and sit on the couch for a bit if you want?" He offered, not wanting you to feel pressured at all.

"Yeah, that sounds nice." You nodded, mentally reminding yourself to stop giving reasons for Harry keeping on apologising to you - even if it was nice to hear someone else for someone else doing it, other than you, for once.

He lead you in to his living room, hand in hand, and you were taken aback by how wonderful it was in there. The room was rectangular, with the TV placed in the corner of the room next to the bay window. The bay window was covered in blankets and cushions, with adjacent floating shelves that contained tens of classic reads. The sofas were a luxurious velvet blue and it made the room feel expensive. The sapphire of the couches brought out the colour in the grey floor you didn't even know existed. The fireplace was classically built, wood burner and all. The room was on the small side, but it made it all the more homely. It was a delicious delight.

"It's not much, but it's home you know?" Harry felt like he had to apologise for it being lesser than your previous house. In reality, you adored his much more.

"Harry it's stunning. I'm jealous that it's yours and not mine." You couldn't keep your eyes away from the room, finding new things to be mesmerised by.

"It's yours too now." Harry proudly stated, making you shoot your head to him in shock. Of course you thought that you'd be living with Harry for a little while before you could get yourself back on your own feet, but you didn't expect him to share it with you like how he was suggesting. He noticed your expression and thought he'd overstepped a line, "I-if you want?"

You couldn't help but let out a little flurry of sobs, stopping yourself before it turned in to a bigger breakdown.

"Sorry! I'm being silly. It's just been a long time since i've been this happy in a house." You shook your head at your own silliness.

"No, no. It's not silly at all. I don't understand, but you could help me to if you want to?" Harry wanted to give you a way to tell someone your story. He wanted you to feel safe in opening up to someone, anyone.

"Yeah. I'd really like that, please." You quietly agreed.

"Okay. Let me just turn the heating on and then i'll be right back. Please just make yourself comfortable." He didn't want to tell you to make yourself at home because he knew you already felt it. He was honoured to be the someone you wanted to open up to, but even more proud of you for being strong enough to want to talk.

"Perfect."

•••••

After a couple of hours just crying to Harry, letting him learn of everything that had happened the past couple of years, you finally got the strength to get up off the couch and make a cuppa.

You'd told Harry everything - not a detail left out. He deserved to understand what your life had been like, considering he was doing so much to help you out. Harry really had been your knight in shining armour. Harry had to stop you sometimes to rant about how much he despised Rodger, which you found quite hilarious. You were pretty sure that he popped a blood vessel on his neck because of how passionately angry he got. You had to calm him down sometimes by holding his hand, squeezing it to reassure him that you were safe now.

Now you were messing around having a tea competition.

Harry claimed his cups of tea were the best in the Northern Hemisphere and he was very willing for you to challenge him on that. You made your cup of tea, for him, and he made his, for you. You hated to admit it but his cuppa was extraordinary - but you were a very sore loser so you couldn't tell him that. He knew though by the way you downed the whole mug in less than five minutes. He was worried that you'd burn your throat but you were very adamant on downing the whole drink.

The warmth and comfort of the hot drink reminded you a lot of Harry.

"Harry?" You asked, putting your empty mug in the sink to wash later.

"Yes, Y/N?" Harry responded, mouth full of ginger-nut biscuit. A little cloud of biscuit poofed from his mouth as he spoke, which he blushed in embarrassment over.

"Can I have a look through your notebook please?" You held your hand out to wait for him to deliver you the notebook. You knew he would eventually give it you, but you weren't sure whether he would give it to you so soon - not wanting you to step on a wound that was still very open.

"You sure you want to? I can keep it until you're ready?" He checked to make sure. If you believed you were ready then he wasn't going to stop you, but only be there for you if you get upset.

"I'm sure. I promise I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it was right to." You nodded in assurance, wiggling your fingers in gesture for him to hand it over to you. He nodded and smiled in response, before pulling out the book from his coat that was hanging over the back of a chair. He did it all one handed, still holding his cup of tea in the other - the cup of tea which you were upset that he'd given 2 Michelin stars to.

"Okay." He warmly smiled at you before standing back to let you go through the book in your own time.

You worked your way through every page, wincing when you saw some pages filled entirely with tally marks. There was never a day where there was no tally marks and that made you deep how insane it had actually been. Looking at this from the outside, now, was a challenging perspective to wrap your head around. You never understood the gravity of the situation until you stood back and peered in from the outside. Harry's book, however unsettling it was, comforted you in knowing that there had been someone there for you when you believed otherwise. He was your silent guardian angel.

Flicking through the book you finally reached todays page. You read down it and were impressed by how right Harrys tallies had been. He'd correctly scored the right amount of bruises and even annotated where he thought they were. It was a weird talent, but he sure had it.

Deciding that the page was incomplete you grabbed a nearby pen from the side, unfortunately it was a different colour to the one already on the page, and made a simple adjustment to the writing. You even underlined it. Once finished, you held the page away from you and smiled at how content you were now.

You handed it back to Harry with the biggest smile you, and him, had ever seen on your face. You almost looked mischievous.

"What did you do?" He asked accusingly, setting his tea on the table to see what damage had been done.

"Needed to update it." You simply put it, expressing a softer smile now.

You watched as Harry read over the pages, trying to figure out what you'd done. He flipped right to the end, thinking you'd most likely have written something on the most recent pages. He turned all the way to the back, where fifty blank pages remained, but there was nothing. He turned to the front, and nothing. The next guess he turned to todays date.

Tuesday 10th November

He skimmed the page looking for what was different - if anything. He quickly glanced over to you and he saw you smirking, which was a sign that he was getting close to figuring it out. He couldn't look at you and not internally comment about how beautiful you looked. You were a sight for sore eyes and nothing less.

Then he looked at the end of the page and it made sense.

•Total smiles = III

You'd tallied your own smile.

Harrys eyes started to water. He was so unbelievably proud of you. He could already see that you'd come so far and it had been a matter of hours since you left that god forbidden house. It was going to a very gradual process but he couldn't be more proud of you if he tried. You shot up out of your chair when he started to cry, though, thinking that you'd done something wrong.

"Harry i'm sorry. I can buy you a new book if I ruined it. I can—"

"You didn't ruin anything, love. I'm just... I'm just happy that you're happy. I've waited a long time to see you like this." He came to hold you close, noticing how you didn't even flinch when he came near you. You were improving by the second and it was a wonder to watch.

"I've waited a long time to feel like this." You admitted, looking past his teary eyes to see hope hidden behind the water. To hear Harrys compliments was something quite touching. Not having heard any compliments from your, said, husband for years had been a challenging setback, but one that you'd go through all again if it meant you got to hear Harry say all these wonderful things. "It's like, sometimes the pain gets hard, but now you're here and I don't feel a thing."

He took an extra step towards you, cautiously bringing his hand up to place upon your cheek and lower jaw. As soon as he felt you melt in to his hand, humming at the blissful warm feeling against your skin, he traced his thumb back and forth against the softness of your cheek. He brought a calmness to your life that you never realised was missing and it made you grateful to finally have it.

He made you feel home again.

You were so thankful for everything Harry had done for you. He'd silently opened you up into sharing your story. He'd always have been the one to make you smile, even on your worst days. He'd never given up on you. He'd offered up his house to you until you figured out what you wanted to do next. He'd cared for you on all the days you never thought anyone did, with his little secret notebook. He'd loved you for being you. He'd made you feel special on those days where Rodger would make you feel impossibly small. He'd done it all for you.

There wasn't enough ways for you to display your gratitude towards him. You could take him out to as many meals, buy him as many X-Box games, treat him to as many football games that your money could stretch to buy, but it would never be enough compared to what he'd done for you.

"Hey, you okay? You look lost in daydream land?" Harrys voice brought you back from your intense thoughts and back to him.

"Just thinking that i'm never going to be able to thank you enough for all this." You told him exactly what was on your mind, because he was actually someone who would listen to you. As you spoke you carefully brushed a fallen curl back behind his ear, and kept your fingers dancing around there in order to keep you focused.

"You don't need to Y/N/N. You've given me everything already." His words caught your attention, because they weren't true. You hadn't given him everything.

You hadn't given him you.

"Well what about me?" You asked, curious to know if he would take you if you were offering.

"And what about you, love?" He asked, smiling at you for an answer. He wanted you to explain what you meant before he answered under the wrong impression. You two knew there was an undying romantic tension between you both, but neither of you had ever brought it up because you were married and he was too out of your league - or so you thought.

"What if I gave you me? What if you were mine and I were yours?" You shyly asked, bracing for the rejection he was bound to give you - until he didn't.

"Then I would be the luckiest man alive." He answered so simply, yet so effectively. "In fact, I really hope that you don't run from me."

"Really?" You asked, shocked that he felt the same way. He had been shocked too to hear you offer yourself in to a relationship, and so soon after just slipping out of an abusive one. You were positive that you were going to need counselling, of some kind, in order to build back up the walls Rodger had so disgracefully bulldozed down. You needed to become more emotionally stable before venturing too far in to any new relationships, you accepted that, but you were willing to seriously consider being with Harry - if he'd have you.

"Really, really." He nodded enthusiastically.

"I don't want to rush in to it, though, because I don't think that would be fair on you. I'm still a long way from emotionally recovering, but if you're willing to wait then I promise to be there waiting too." You explained the best way you could, hoping that he would understand the concept of what you're trying to convey. He knew you weren't ready and he was okay with that.

"I've always been waiting, love." He replied and that was enough for you both to know that things would be alright from now on.

••••••

It took you a while, but you were finally at your happiest.

You were taught believe that home was the house you grew up in. It was the neighbourhood and the architecture that stood within it. What you weren't taught is that home can also be a person, and your person was Harry.

Three months after spending every day with that ray of sunshine, he asked you to be his girlfriend. It had taken a lot for you to get to that point but you were so ready for the next chapter. He'd asked you so casually that some may not even have thought he was being serious, but to you it was exactly the way you envisioned it to be - watching "Educating Manchester" with a bowl of ramen noodles to share between the two of you. It was so minimalistic and you loved him for it.

Neither of you had specifically said that you loved each other yet, but it was blaringly obvious that you did.

Over time Harry helped you find family members and old friends, helping you stitch back together the individual patches of your life back together and create the beautiful blanket it once was. None of it would be possible without Harry and you were so blessed to be able to call him yours.

Rodger had tried to come get you multiple times. He'd hung around outside the school a few times and had even turned up to Harrys house once. It was scary and you wanted it to stop. Harry has gone livid when he found him on his doorstep, having to really hold himself back from tearing him limb from limb for the sake of you and your mental recovery.

"If you ever fucking come near my house or my girl ever again, I swear it won't be pretty, man." Harry was grinding his teeth together, doing everything in his power from keeping this anything more than a verbal fight.

"You fucking threatening me, pal?" Rodger spat, quite literally, in Harrys face - something you were quite accustomed to.

"Listen to what I said and then I won't be." Harry bargained, which you were so proud of him for keeping as calm as he was. You could tell he was raging though, ready to pounce on something.

"I ain't taking no orders from you." Rodger piped back, pushing Harrys shoulder back slightly. That infuriated you. You knew first hand of what this man could do with his fists and you would do anything to stop Harry from experiencing the same things you did. You loved him with every bone in your body and you'd rather wish yourself ill than watch him get hurt. So you stepped in, from where Harry'd had you stood behind him to protect you.

"Y/N—" Harry started, but stopped when he knew you were fully capable of fighting your own battles. Plus he was right next to you if you needed him, unlike all the times he hadn't been.

"Ah there she is, my little bitch." Rodger laughed, displaying his ugly smile he had the misfortune of owning.

You felt Harrys fists curl and you slid your hand in between his fingers to calm him. Your touch made him feel relaxed, you knew this, so you used it to your advantage. Harry let out a slight animalistic growl when Rodger spoke to you, but nothing more. He knew you could handle this.

"Rodger you are not invited here. This isn't your property and you've been asked to leave multiple times. If you don't leave within the next minute i'm calling the police. That's not a threat, that's a promise." Harry doubt o squeezed your hand to let you know you were handling this amazing well, especially mentally. He only wished he was half as strong as you.

"Ooh she's finally got the balls to stand up for herself. Is that because Mr Harry—"

He quickly shut up when he saw you'd just dialled 999. You weren't afraid of him like it used to be. There would always be that trauma any time you see him, but you were getting stronger against him which only made him weaker.

"This isn't over." Rodger angrily stomped his foot like a child, only making you internally snicker.

"It is and you'll soon come to realise that." You smiled and nodded your head towards the main road. He snarled at you before walking away, knowing he couldn't put up a fight against either of you anymore.

When the door closed you let out such a sigh of relief. You rested your forehead against the front door, in peace knowing Rodger was nowhere around to hurt you and you'd successfully stood up to him. If there was any a time for champagne and party poppers it was now, but you guy something ever better.

Warm lips pressed against the cold of your neck.

"Hmm." You sighed in content and pleasure.

"You were so hot just then." Harry stated, which is not where you thought this conversation would turn to. You expected him to start talking about how proud he was of you and then start talking about how you were long-term going to deal with that asshole. Instead, he seemed very affectionate.

"You think?" You teased him, leaning your head to the side to allow him more access to your neck.

"So hot." And it didn't take a rocket scientist you decipher what you two did for the rest of the day.

Rodger hadn't been in contact since and it was now 5 months without him. 5 months clean, as you liked to label it.

You and Harry continued to live under his sherbet lemon home and work in the beloved school. The children knew that you were a couple and were always grossed out when they'd catch you holding hands or kissing , when you two thought no one was around. Hallie had even made another badge for Harry to have and it was a small heart with your name written inside, although it was not coloured in very well and your name had been spelt wrong it still managed to make Harry cry.

Life had an unfortunate way of turning out for many. For you, your unfortunate story had occurred at the beginning of your life. Now, you couldn't be happier. Life was a blessing and the people in it were even more so.

It had been a long journey to get to today, but now you could finally rest.

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imasinnerimsorry · 11 months

Text

Substitute Pleaser

A story where Harry Styles is the substitute professor, and one of his students (Natasha, black, she/her) wants her grade fixed. Harry tries to find ways to help, and soon offers her a “request”.

SMUT; Kinks include: TeacherxStudent trope (college setting btw), shoe riding, deepthroating, facefucking, hair pulling, creampie, spitting, choking, degradation, some praise if you squint

It’s almost the end of the semester and Natasha was tired. Very, very tired. She was in one of the best universities in the country studying to be a physical therapist. Now in her third year, the work had gotten so much more strenuous, often leaving Natasha to study for hours with no end. All she needed was a break, but she’s never had the time to.

All of her professors this semester were pains in the ass. Their grading systems were fucked, and it seemed like they were always out for her- like they wanted her to fail. Maybe that wasn’t true, she’ll admit, but that’s just how she felt.

It was time for her English class, and Natasha was furious. She hated that old bastard of a teacher, Mr. Carson, so much. He gave her a 63% on her last English paper, which was worth 35% of her grade, resulting in her average dropping tremendously. She was definitely not a bad student; she’s always had straight A’s and a couple of B’s, so this poorly-graded assignment was definitely unexpected. She planned on seeing him for office hours right after class to question him about her poor grade.

Natasha walked into that horrible classroom, expecting to see that gross man with the crusty-looking beard sat at the front desk by the whiteboard. Instead, she noticed a sexy man with healthy chocolate brown hair, a jawline as sharp as a knife, and beautiful fingers which were adorned with the finest rings, a unique one dedicated to each finger (except his left ring finger, which was a great sign for Natasha).

Yes, he was cute, but who was he? Natasha questioned herself. Because he sure wasn’t Mr. Carson’s ugly, old ass. He couldn’t be a professor, could he?

She sat down at her seat, making sure her posture was proper and that her appearance was up to par with the sexy man at the teacher’s desk. Using her hands, she brushed her hair to the front, making sure they cascaded down past her shoulders reaching her breasts, but also making sure they didn’t cover her cleavage (She thanked God she wore a push-up bra).

The young man finally stood up from the professor’s seat and walked to the front of it, leaning himself against it. He quickly scanned the classroom before his eyes landed on her.

A beautiful young woman, appearing not much younger than him, was sitting in the second row of the lecture room. He noticed her hair, an ashy blonde color, contrasting her beautifully moisturized brown skin. She had a cute button nose, round brown eyes, and her lips shined with lip gloss of a pink tint and glitter. His eyes glanced down at her obvious cleavage, but he quickly looked away, as not to seem invasive or crude. He hoped she hadn’t noticed.

He didn’t know, however, that Natasha did indeed notice. She couldn’t help but to look down and blush.

"Good evening, class,” the man started. “I am your substitute professor, Harry Styles, but you’ll call me Mr. Styles for the rest of our lectures together. As you all might know from your emails, your usual professor Mr. Carson has recently lost his wife and has followed his family to his native country Germany, which is where he will be spending the rest of the semester to grieve and mourn with the rest of the family. Make sure you send all the love and prayers to Mr. Carson in any way you can at some point.”

Natasha didn’t check her email recently. Oops.

Mr. Styles continued, “So, we will pick up from where he left off. My office hours will remain the same as Mr. Carson’s and in the same room. If you have any questions or concerns, or if you just want to have a chat, come down to Carson’s office, now mine. I’m all ears!” He gave the class a kind grin, one that Natasha was smitten with. His dimples were perfectly carved into his already sexy face.

As the lesson began, Natasha’s best friend Andrew turned to her from the table to her right and said, “Hopefully he’s not as boring as Mr. Carson,” to which the two students laughed amongst themselves.

Until Harry noticed and caught their attention by clearing his throat.

“You know,” he began, “Just because I’m a substitute, it doesn’t mean that the rules have changed. Pay attention and don’t speak, unless you have something to share with the entire class.”

Andrew rolled his eyes and fixed himself to face Mr. Styles. Natasha closed her legs and faced Mr. Styles with her head looking down to her lap. Yes, that got her a bit... aroused.

And Mr. Styles noticed. He turned back to the smartboard to hide the cheeky smirk that formed on his lips.

The class continued with its lesson for about an hour an a half, which meant an hour and a half of Natasha fixing her appearance, making her cleavage more noticeable, taking off her blazer and putting it back on, fidgeting and changing her seating positions, all to make Mr. Styles notice her.

And Mr. Styles noticed. Every time he would hear the creak of a chair or the shuffle of someone’s body, he would know it was that beautiful girl he had his eyes on from the beginning.

***

It was the end of the lecture, and the impatient half of the class who literally couldn’t care less about the topics discussed had ran out of the classroom. The few students who cared about their grades and about learning or understanding the class material had stayed back to ask Mr. Styles questions. And Natasha was one of that few.

Natasha waited until she was the last person in the room to ask Mr. Styles about her grade. She usually did this with every class so that she didn’t have to rush herself to make room for other waiting students. She wanted all the time for herself and her teacher so that she could truly understand the subject. And she definitely wanted some time to herself with this sexy professor.

“You can come over here now, sweetheart,” Mr. Styles said from his desk.

That “sweetheart” almost made Natasha fall to her knees, but she maintained her composure. Of course, he would call me something so endearing, Natasha deciphered to herself to keep the dirty thoughts from overwhelming her mind.

Harry looked down at his class seating chart. “Hm, Natasha, right?”

She nodded.

He looked up at her. “Hello, sweetheart, how are you?” he inquired. The look on his face seemed sincere, but Natasha could feel an aura lurking underneath that sincerity. Frustration? Desire? Lust?

She finally answered, “I’m doing alright, sir. And you?” She gulped.

Harry smirked. “I’m doing alright as well. So, what seems to be the case?” He looked down and searched through student profile sheets until he found hers. His eyebrows narrowed as he looked at her grade, and then he looked back at her a bit puzzled. “It says here on your profile that you’re quite the smart cookie. An A-... that’s high compared to many of the other students! What could be the issue, love?”

Natasha blushed at his compliment toward her grade. “Thank you so much, sir. But, yes, I do have an issue regarding my last essay.” She placed the papers she brought with her onto the desk and set them neatly in front of him. She then pointed at the circled 63% sitting at the top of the page. “I’m confused about the grade I received. I don’t know what could have made it so poor.”

Harry screwed his eyebrows as he scanned through the pages of her essay. Even without reading in depth, he could tell it was a well-written paper (at least better than a majority of the class). “I understand your concern. All of your research papers so far have been nothing less than a B, so I know you expected so much from this one. Unfortunately, I was not the person who marked your paper, so I technically cannot change your grade for it.”

Harry could see Natasha’s face change from a bright glow to a duller undertone. He felt really sorry for the girl. He really wished he could help her out. But, as he said, there was nothing he technically could do.

“A-Are you sure, Mr. Styles?” She asked with struggle. “I mean, I understand that Mr. Carson was the one who graded it, but surely you could reread it and give your own input?” Harry’s face remained the same. “Maybe you could send your review to the board and have them override Mr. Carson’s since he won’t be attending for the rest of the semester?”

Again, Harry’s face showed no signs of a change in his decision. “I’m really sorry, love.”

Natasha’s eyes started to well up with tears, and Harry noticed. He really did not want to see this beautiful girl cry in front of her. It was devastating. He leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms into a pensive position to think about how he could help her. Then, he smirked as a thought, a rather promiscuous one, popped up in his mind.

“Well, Natasha, you’re a smart girl, right?”

She didn’t know where this random question came from, so she just nodded her head to hear him continue his thoughts.

“I told you that I technically can’t do anything about your grade,” he turned his body around to face Natasha, his knees accidentally brushing against hers as he looked into her eyes, “But, let’s forget about all of the technicalities for a minute, yeah?”

Natasha looked down into her lap as she noticed his eyes trying to meet hers. This man really made her nervous. Was she intimidated by him? Afraid? Aroused? All of the above, maybe? Her thoughts were cut off abruptly as Harry lifted her chin up with his index finger so her eyes could meet his gaze.

“I’m sure we could be a bit more informal now. I mean, after all, that’s what you have been doing this entire lecture,” he gave her a sly grin.

The woman’s face warmed as her head flashed back to her behavior during the lecture. It was truly out of order, but she couldn’t let him know that she was aware of this. “I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Styles?”

Harry chuckled and leaned his arm against the desk, putting his face in his hand as he observed her body language. “Oh, you mean to tell me that all of that fidgeting and movement you were doing back there in your seat was just that? It was just “fidgeting and movement” ? Or were you trying to gather my attention, Ms. Natasha?”

She could not believe what he was saying. Not only because it was totally out of his code of conduct as a professor, but also because he figured her out completely. Natasha couldn’t help but to close her legs and cross her arms around her chest, covering herself with her cardigan. She wasn’t uncomfortable, just a bit too aroused and did not want Mr. Styles to delve into her body language even deeper.

But Harry noticed this, and placed his hands on her shoulders, giving them a light massage. “Oh dear. Are you feeling uncomfortable now?” He ultimately didn’t want her to feel unsafe with him, despite the arousing conversation they were having at the moment. To his surprise yet relief, she shook her head no.

“Well, that’s just great, dear,” he sighed in relief. “Listen, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, so if you decline my following request, I would respect it. Would you like to hear this request, sweet girl?”

She nodded.

“I’ve mentioned the technicalities of the situation. However, if you were to do me some favors, then I will present your paper to the board to have them change your grade.” Harry brought his lips to her ear and whispered, “I want you to make me feel good.”

Natasha’s heart skipped a beat. As Harry moved himself from her ear, he stared into her widened eyes with a little grin. She felt as if she was dreaming.

Harry chuckled and laid back onto his chair, his head landing onto his hands with his arms now raised behind his head in a relaxed position. It was almost as if he was showing that he was open to whatever she wanted to do to him. Like a dog laying its belly up to show its trust to its owner. “Would you like to make me feel good, Natasha?”

Natasha hesitated, of course. Her professor was insinuating for her to have sex with him so that her grade could rise. It was the typical teacher/student trope she would read about in her erotica. It was just too…favorable for her.

And yet, she nodded in response.

Harry stood up from his seat, Natasha’s eyes trailing up his body as he did so. He looked down at her with a smirk on his face and slid his hand through her hair. He simply uttered a “Good girl” from his mouth, but Natasha could have died there and then from those two words.

Harry took his time to undo his pants’ zipper and stared at Natasha while doing so. He pulled his pants down just a bit to reveal a sight Natasha was not prepared for. His briefs sat tightly fitted against his bulge, which looked hard through the thin material. Natasha’s mouth began to salivate out of her control. She absolutely wasn’t prepared for this.

The substitute finally drew his underwear down to meet his pants, and that was the pièce de résistance. His cock shone brightly under the lights of the classroom. The tip had a slight tinge of pink, mimicking the hue of his lips, and was leaking with precum. His shaft was riddled with vessels that were surely pumping with lots of blood by the look of how hard and heavy his cock was. Natasha had never seen anything like it. Not even her previous boyfriends have had dicks as gorgeous and delicious-looking as her substitute professor’s. Harry couldn’t hold back the teeth-baring, obviously egoistic grin that he was trying to hide as he noticed the girl admiring his prick. It boosted his ego whenever his penis, or any part of his body as a matter of fact, was looked at like a prize that his partners had won; their own little trophy that they deserved if they had won Harry’s affection. He put his cock up near her cheek and held it there, imagining what would happen if he put himself far into her mouth. His tip reached the back of her jaw. Perfect.

Harry finally spoke up after a beat of silence. “Now, listen to me carefully. When I put myself in your mouth, I want you to ride my shoe like a good girl. Do you get what I mean?” It could be viewed as a strange request to others, but Harry loved to see his partners look desperate on their knees for him. Riding themselves on his shoe, looking up at him with wide doe-eyes that were stained with tears, their cheeks hinted with blush as they held his cock down their throats. What a sight, indeed.

Meanwhile, Natasha stared up at the man in shock. She had only heard about people doing such things like “riding a shoe” in the erotica she’d read and the movies she watched. To hear someone say it to her out loud in person- no, to hear someone command her to do something like this in person- was something shocking, yet appealing. And she was more than willing to do that at this moment. She nodded her head as Harry stroked her jaw with his thumb.

Harry smiled. “What a good girl.” The tip of his cock, now a darker shade of pink due to its desperation for release, was shoved between the young woman’s lips. Harry winced at the beautiful feeling he had longed for this whole time. “Fuck,” he whispered under his breath, “What a good girl, indeed.”

Natasha moaned into his mouth at the feeling of his cock being placed into her mouth. The stretch it gave to her mouth was something indescribable. She wanted to feel it even deeper into her throat. The salty taste of the man’s precum was purely divine to her. She couldn’t wait to experience the flavor of his semen. Her tongue moved to the underside of his cock, and she could feel every vein and vessel, every tissue of his skin, every inch of his manhood. It was something she had experienced before in previous relationships, but it was never this good. Mr. Styles was just something else.

Remembering his orders, the young woman managed to spread her legs and place her cunt onto his shoe. Although still covered with her panties, the sensation still sent shockwaves through her spine. Natasha started to make small, slow rotary motions on the top of Harry’s shoe, which caused her to let out little, muffled moans from her cock-filled mouth.

The feeling of Natasha’s moans around his tip caused Harry to buck his hips forward in pleasure. Natasha gagged a bit as his cock touched her uvula, but the feeling didn’t last long as Harry pulled back as soon as he heard her cough. “Your lips feel so plush around me, love. Sorry for that,” he apologized while giving her lips some taps with his cock. Even that felt good for Harry. But then he continued, “But I’m sure you liked that, huh? You liked feeling my cock go so far back your throat, yeah?” Natasha nodded and her mouth seemed to salivate even more at the mere thought of his cock going deeper. He put himself right back into her mouth and angled his abdomen in a way where he could go as far back as he could, but right before her uvula so she wouldn’t gag prematurely. He wanted her to feel every thrust so that she could gag around him at the perfect moments.

Harry started to thrust in a bit slower than he preferred, but he wanted to get the girl used to his movements before he went wild. He could feel his tip glide against her uvula as he hit the back of the throat near her epiglottis, which spasmed at the touch and made her gag. He noticed Natasha’s eyes and mouth start to water as she held her mouth open for him. Her pussy was still riding against his shoe, and he decided to fuck with her a bit to make the situation more… thrilling.

Natasha could feel as Harry’s shoe started to rub up and down against her pussy. He was tapping his foot as if he was listening to one of his favorite songs. And he pretty much was- the song of cunnilingus sung by a pretty girl submitting beneath him is what motivated him. Natasha started to moan a bit more heavily as he continued the motions of both his foot and his cock. She stared at him as the man thrusted into her mouth with more vigor, the tip of his cock constantly hitting against her epiglottis, causing her to gag each time. She was in pure bliss.

Harry’s moans started to get louder as well, turning almost animalistic. He huffed as he felt the back of her throat spasm around his cock. “Yes, princess,” he mumbled through gritted teeth. Suddenly, he grabbed the back of Natasha’s head and pressed himself down so far back into her esophagus. He was curious how she would feel if she took all of him. Natasha’s nose managed to touch his pubic hair with how far he had gone. Her mouth started to drool with more saliva as she tried to maintain herself around his cock. Harry could feel her choke around him, but he didn’t care. He started to thrust himself into her mouth at this angle, and it felt absolutely heavenly. Her mouth was like a vice to him, and the squelching sounds emitting from her gagging throat were literal music to his ears.

He continued his thrusts for about a minute or so before Natasha started to slap her hand on his thigh for him to stop. Harry obliged, not wanting to suffocate her, and released her from his grasp.

Once he pulled her off of him, Harry noticed her hips atop his shoe- they weren’t moving. He gave her a light slap across her face and grabbed her jaw to look up at him. “Did I tell you to fuckin’ stop riding me?” Natasha managed to look at him through teary eyes. “N-no,” was all she could answer.

Harry lifted his eyebrows in a mocking way, almost as if to say, “Well, what do you think you should do?”, and Natasha immediately picked up on it. She started to move her pussy on his foot again, this time with more intensity. She moaned and kept her eyes on him, which he loved.

“Yeah, there you go, bunny. Ride my shoe like a fuckin’ slut.” He stared down into her doe-eyes which were tinged with tears from her previous gagging session. “Feels good, yeah?’ Natasha could only moan in response as she continued dragging her cunt against his shoe.

“Well, you look fuckin’ pathetic,” he spat. In normal situations, this would have made Natasha try to run away from him. Being called “pathetic” and a “fuckin’ slut” was humiliating, but she liked it. She liked hearing those degrading words come from her substitute professor’s mouth. Oh, the woman was so far gone.

After a few more rotations of her hips on top of his shoe, Harry patted her head. “Alright, bunny, off. I’m sure that got you wet enough, right?” She nodded. “Good girl.” Harry helped her up with a bit of a tight grip to her forearm. It was unintentional; he would never want to hurt her, but he was growing more aroused by every second that passed. He could only hold off an orgasm for a little longer, and he didn’t want to cum without feeling the beautiful girl in front of him wrapped around his cock first. ‘ Harry leaned Natasha against his desk rather abruptly, causing the content sitting atop of the surface to shuffle and even fall with the impact. Natasha’s breasts and the side of her face were placed onto the cold surface of the wooden desk, and her ass was held up by her two feet planted onto the ground to make herself more comfortable in this position. She loved doggystyle, but never did it on top of a table.

Harry stood behind her, his hands gripping her hips with a force tight enough to make indented marks in her skin. “Make sure you stay quiet f’me, alright bunny?” Natasha nodded with a quickness, her anticipation for feeling his cock inside of her clouding her mind.

Harry finally brought his cock into her cunt, making the two of them wince at the feeling. The stretch that his girth gave her walls was delicious. It felt as if he was ripping her in two, but she absolutely loved it. “Thank you, professor,” she moaned as he went further into her vagina. Harry grinned. “Well, you’re a polite thing, aren’t you?,” He asked as he began his thrusts slowly. “Saying thank you without me telling you to. What a good girl.” Natasha moaned at the praise and it was music to Harry’s ears. And he wanted that song to continue playing. So, he continued his thrusts, speeding up a bit as he felt her walls get used to his length.

At one moment, Harry hit a particularly deep spot that made Natasha let out the loudest moan (or loudest sound generally) that she ever let out in her life. It was so pornographic, so disgusting, but something Harry didn’t want to risk his career for.

Harry quickly covered her mouth with his palm and brought his other hand to pull at her hair, making her body lift from the table and hit his own. Her head hit his shoulder, which allowed his lips to travel to her ear, and he questioned, “You want your grade to go up, don’t you?” Natasha strained her neck as she tried to look into his eyes and nodded, a soft whimper escaping her lips. “Well, keep it fuckin’ quiet so no one walks in here and catches us, whore,” he spat at her, still thrusting into her pussy while pulling her hair back with more force.

After a couple more thrusts, Harry then brought the hand pulling her hair right down to her pussy, trying to find its way to her pretty little clit. Once he recognized the feeling, his index and middle finger began to rub themselves on her clitoris at a good-enough pace to prolong the process of orgasm, but not to make it come quickly. The hand that covered her mouth to hush her made its way down to her throat and gave her a tight squeeze that constricted her blood vessels, giving her the sensation of him choking her. Harry tilted her head up against his chest and he took a look down at Natasha’s face. “Oh, you’re enjoying this,” he teased Natasha, and she responded with a strained and quiet, “yes”. He straightened her head to allow himself to put his lips against the helix of her ear, nipping and licking against the skin as his thrusts got deeper with faster strokes.

His lips, still against her ear nipping and licking, stopped to utter a statement. “Look at you, a little braindead slut. This dick’s too fucking good for you, huh? It’s all you’ve ever wanted, right?” He paused to bring his hand that was choking her neck down to her left breast, and his fingers entwined with her nipple to play with it, bringing a whole new sensation for the girl against him. “You’re such a whore that you were willing to fuck your substitute teacher for a better grade.” He took a quick pause with his words to lick against her earlobe for a quick second, his tongue missing the flavor of her warm skin. Then Harry continued, “You’re a smart girl- a very, very smart girl, bunny. Your grades speak for themselves.” His fingers continued to play with her nipple and her clit, his thrusts only increasing in pace. “But what you’re doing right now- your body melting away at your professor's touch on his desk- now, that’s a bit stupid, isn’t it, love?” His fingers continued to tug at her nipple, and all Natasha could do was let out a needy whimper. “Risking your academic life- your career- just for some cock?” Another whimper.

As Harry continued his rough thrusts into her increasingly sopping pussy, Natasha drooled. It was like her entire body lost itself and gave Harry all of the control. He could touch her, move her anywhere, and play with her any way he wished, and she would have obliged. Her brain seemed to be void of any thought, only awaiting for more commands and words of defamation given by her substitute professor. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

The man halted his hips for a moment and grabbed onto Natasha’s thighs, managing to lift her up with her legs spread and pussy still wrapped around his cock. Natasha let out a gasp and a moan, but covered her own mouth as she realized how loud she was. Harry started to lift her up and down on his cock, which gave Natasha a new sensation she had never felt before. She could feel this man’s cock so deep inside of her, like it was constantly poking the lower portion of her belly and she couldn’t help but moan into her hand.

Harry kissed her neck and continued to bless Natasha with deep, yet long strokes of himself. This was one of his favorite positions, and hearing this beautiful woman, his literal student, struggle to moan while receiving him made him feel like the best man on Earth. He hummed into her shoulder as he continued to slowly lift her up and down for a few more strokes.

Wanting to see her face after realizing they’ve only been in positions where he could only view the back of her neck, he lifted her up as high as he could and turned her around to face him. Bringing her down to face level, he noticed her eyes welled with tears, both dry (from her deepthroating him) and wet (from their actual intercourse), and saw drool dripping from her mouth, sliding down her chin and dropping onto her gorgeous chest. Her makeup was messy and runny, and her hair was disheveled. Harry wished he could snap a photo of her. “Oh, pretty girl, you’re stunning. Have to make you cum now. Wanna see your pretty face when you cum.” He was insistent on making her orgasm, not only to see her face, but also because he was in a rush and did not want anyone to notice their little session.

Harry lowered Natasha back onto his dick with ease; it was wet enough with all of the cream that her cunt was pouring onto him previously. Natasha immediately clenched around him as she felt him enter her. He lifted her up again, removing himself from her and watched as her face contorted and her pussy clenched around nothing. “Professor, please,” she whimpered. She knew he was getting a kick out of watching her beg. He repeated the motion a couple more times though, only putting himself inside halfway then lifting her back up off of him, just to tease her and watch her struggle. “Professor, please, please, please!” She whined out.

Harry let out a laugh and finally brought the girl back down, really, really deep this time. He started to fuck into her wet cunt, and the noises in the room reminded him of a porno. Her cunt clamped around his cock so hard as his pelvis banged against her entire vulva. He knew her clit was enjoying the impact of his pubic bone as he saw her face contort in ways that only made him fuck her harder.

As Natasha neared her orgasm, she tightened her entire body around her professor even more. Her arms and hands dug into his back and shoulders, but Harry didn’t mind. Harry nudged at her nose with his own with the intention of her looking into his eyes. She obliged and her pupils met his own.”You’re doing so well for me, honey,” he stated, his thrusts still going at a fast pace. Natasha whined and gave him a quick, yet sloppy kiss. Her cunt tightened. “My belly..,” she whined into his ear as her chin rested against his shoulder. Harry cooed into her ear, “Your belly? You feel me in your belly?” He could feel the girl nod against his shoulder. “Yeah, you feel warm? Gonna cum for me, love? You’re creaming all over my cock.” She nodded again and gave him a cute “Mhm,” before Harry went even harder, not even caring about how loud their skin was slapping anymore; he wanted this girl to spill all around him, more than the cream she was already creating on his shaft, and he wanted to watch how her body reacted to an orgasm.

And that is exactly what happened.

Her orgasm finally came, and he slowed his thrusts to help her through it and to watch her unravel around him. Her body became limp in his hold as her cunt spasmed around him, and her face was screwed in such a pleasurable way that showed how relieving her release was. Her toes were curled and her clit was visibly throbbing from the impact it was receiving. Harry was lucky to see this happen in front of his own eyes.

The spasms of her walls milked Harry of his own orgasm. He stopped his thrusts and spurted all of his semen into her, and Natasha could see the veins of his cock throb as he spilled into her. The feeling of his cum painting her from the inside was amazing, and she wished he could just stay inside her for the rest of the afternoon. But, Harry finally pulled out of her, and his cream-covered length went limp. He placed her onto the desk carefully, making her sit down and spread her legs wide in front of him.

Both Harry and Natasha watched as the mixture of their orgasms dripped out of Natasha’s hole, which was as wide as Harry’s girth. He managed to gape her because of how strong the impact his cock had on her pussy, and it was such a gorgeous sight to him whenever he could achieve it with his partners. Natasha pushed some cum out as well, and her tightening cunt made a little squelching noise that one could only hear in the most disgusting of porn films. Harry slid his finger against her gaping hole and picked up some of their mixture onto the tip. He sucked his finger into his mouth and swirled the cum inside, mixing it with his saliva.

Harry brought his mouth above Natasha’s and opened up her own with his thumb. He spilled his saliva and cum mixture into hers. “One final request,” he murmured into her lips. Natasha stared into her professor’s eyes as she swallowed what Harry gave her, and as she finished she opened her mouth. Harry smiled and stated, “Say aah. Wanna know if you swallowed it all.” Natasha fulfilled his request and gave him an “aah” as if she had just drank the best drink of her life.

As Natasha got off of the table, she looked up at the corner of the room and let out a gasp. “Um, Professor?” She pointed at the camera facing directly at the teacher’s desk where they had been fucking. “Well, I hope they had a jolly good show. I know I have.” Harry let out a belly-laugh, to which Natasha followed with a laugh of her own after a bit of hesitation.

“So… what about my grade?” Harry looked at her and gave her a smirk. But it was not like the cheeky ones before, it was much more sinister. “Your grade?” He laughed again. “Oh, sweetheart, you really aren’t the brightest light, huh?” Natasha tilted her head to the side quizzically. “Wh-what do you mean?,” she asked him with a scared undertone. Harry picked up Natasha’s bag for her and held it out to her. “Did you genuinely expect me to change anything, love?” Natasha stood there in shock and silence.

“Jeez, I’m only kidding, gorgeous! Looks like you’ve seen a ghost,” Harry said with a bright smile as he helped Natasha put her bag on her back. When he finished, he slapped her ass. “Your grade will be just fine. You did me a favor, now I can help you. Now, get on out of here. Don’t want anyone to see you look this fucked out.”

Natasha giggled and made her way out of Mr. Styles’s room with a pep to her step. As she turned down the hallway to the point he couldn’t see her, Harry locked his door and sat back at the desk, putting the contents of the desk he just bent his student over right back into their proper places. He chuckled to himself, “That girl is not getting her grade fixed.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles smut #student x teacher #fanfiction #Smut

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