Summary: Y/N’s summer starts with a betrayal and a very long car ride. Her boyfriend leaves her for Claire. Claire, who also happened to be dating Harry. Now Claire and Ben are together, and Y/N and Harry? They’re the ones left behind—with a cross-country drive to a friends trip they no longer want to be part of. They don’t know each other. They don’t like each other. And they definitely weren’t supposed to share a car, a room, or anything remotely close to trust. But between gas stations, terrible playlists, and late-summer silences… something shifts. Because the worst part of the trip isn’t being stuck with Harry. It’s realizing she doesn’t want it to end.
Tropes: Strangers to reluctant allies to lovers | Forced proximity (one car, two exes, zero escape) | One bed (motel edition™) | Road trip romance | Exes of exes |Slow burn with tension so thick it could shatter | Quiet pining & internal monologues of doom™ | “We don’t talk about it” energy | Grumpy x guarded | Emotional repression Olympics | Falling in love in silence first
Warnings: Off-page infidelity / cheating (by secondary characters) | Breakups / heartbreak (past relationships and emotional fallout) | Emotional repression / avoidance | Loneliness and grief surrounding failed relationships | Light alcohol use (coping, social, and isolation contexts) | Mild language and sarcasm-as-defense-mechanism | Complicated friend group dynamics | Moments of emotional vulnerability, crying, and self-doubt | Subtle themes of trust rebuilding, emotional intimacy, and fear of abandonment
Summery: After you hook up, Professor Styles desperately tries to work things out, though you’re unsure……until you’re not.
Words Count: 2.9k
Warnings: smut, teacher-student relationship (university-everyone is of age), fem!reader
It was Monday morning, and the air in the lecture hall felt heavier than usual. You could barely focus on anything, definitely not on the lecture Professor Styles—Harry—was doing.
Instead, your mind kept circling back to Friday night when you felt the soft brush of his hand against yours, the lingering heat between you as he leaned in closer to help with your research, the unexpected rush of emotions that had filled the space between the two of you, the kiss, and everything after that. You couldn’t shake it. You couldn’t look at him the same way anymore.
He stood at the front of the room, detailing his lecture, though you didn’t hear a word he said. His eyes were constantly trying to find yours, looking over at you every few minutes, but you stayed looking at your notebook. You normally were so engaged in these lectures, eager to raise your hand, to contribute, but today you stayed silent. The tension between you and Harry was palpable, and you felt it in every inch of your body.
He dismissed the class to work on their assignment as he walked around the room, asking people if they needed help. Your stomach churned every time he walked by your seat, which he kept doing, as if he was preparing himself to talk to you.
"Y/N?" He finally said, breaking you out of your nervous thoughts. "How’s the assignment going? Need any help?"
His voice, low and familiar, sent a jolt through your body. You didn’t dare look up, but you could feel him standing there beside your desk, waiting for an answer.
You shook your head quickly, avoiding his gaze. "No. I’m fine," you muttered, your voice coming out more abrupt than you intended.
He paused, as if he wanted to say something back, but nodded and moved on to the next student. You felt like you’d ruined everything, and yet, he still was trying to grab your attention.
The rest of the class dragged on. You couldn't focus. Your mind kept spinning with thoughts of Harry. What would he think of you now?
After Harry gave a last minute instruction and dismissed the class, everyone started to shuffle out of the room. You grabbed your things, the only thing on your mind was leaving. Just as you were about to walk to the door, you heard Harry’s voice again.
"Y/N, could you stay for a moment?"
You froze. His voice made your heart race, and you cursed yourself for not leaving faster. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you as you reluctantly gathered your belongings and made your way to the front of the room. You tried to come up with some excuse, an assignment to work on, a place to be.
“Uhm, I actually have to go…I have somewhere to be.”
“It will only take a moment, it's about the last assignment.”
You knew it wasn’t about the last assignment, but a large part of you was praying it was.
"Sure," you reluctantly said, your voice tight.
The last student left, and Harry closed the door behind them. The awkwardness caused your body to want to squirm.
He leaned against his desk, his gaze softer now, but still carrying that same tension. “Y/N, I—” He paused, running a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. "I’m so sorry. I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable, and I just...I don’t want you to hate me. I really care about you, and I would never want to ruin…this…us." His voice was sincere, and you could hear the concern in it, but it only made you feel more confused.
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words got caught in your throat. You didn't know what to say, you agreed with him, you never wanted to feel uncomfortable around him. But, he never made you uncomfortable.
“I don’t hate you,” you said firmly. "I think I...crossed a line, though. I shouldn’t have let it happen." Your voice broke slightly, and your heart raced at the confession. You stared down at your shoes, shifting uncomfortably.
Harry’s eyes widened, and he shook his head vehemently. “No, Y/N, you didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing about that was wrong.” He took a deep breath and a small step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "You didn't cross any line and I’d never want you to feel bad about it. You didn’t make things awkward for me. I just want to know you’re okay, at the very least"
You stared at him, trying to make sense of everything. His words, your feelings, the entire situation. But everything felt so jumbled in your mind.
And then, without thinking, you walked up to him. The pull between you both felt magnetic, and before either of you could say another word, you were kissing him again, this time, it was you who closed the space between you.
His lips were warm against yours, and the second they met, they welcomed yours, molding together. He didn’t hesitate this time. His hands cupped your face, drawing you closer.
When you pulled away, your breath was shallow, your heart pounding in your chest. His forehead rested against yours, and you could feel him smile, that same soft smile you’d seen a hundred times before—but now, it felt different, warmer, more intimate.
"I think I just ruined everything, again." you whispered, your voice breathless.
Harry chuckled softly, pulling back to look you in the eyes. "No," he said, his voice low but certain. "You didn’t. We’re just figuring this out together."
There was a loud knock on the way causing both of you to harshly separate, creating a large distance between the both of you. The person walked in, it was another one of the art professors coming in to talk with Harry.
“So I think if you have time to make it up today, we can definitely work something out, make sure you get the grade you wanted.” Harry blurted, trying to make it look like he wasn’t just making out with a student moments before.
“Oh, yeah no problem, what time do you want me here?” You casually replied, pulling out your best acting skills. The other teacher, giving Harry a smile and waiting patiently for your conversation to be done.
“Uhm,” He looked at his watch, face scrunched, in a way that almost turned you on. “How about, anytime after twelve thirty My last class ends at twelve, so I can prepare a makeup quiz for you, it shouldn’t take long.” He lied and he gave you a look.
“That sounds perfect, see you then.” You gave a final nod before walking towards the door, giving the other professor a smile before walking out.
In your next class, feeling way better about your current situation with Harry, your phone lit up.
‘See you at 12:30, my classroom.’
You knock on the door that had ‘Professor Styles’ engraved into it. Taking a deep breath, looking around to see other students passing by. The door finally opened to a smiling Professor Styles—Harry.
“I have that makeup quiz ready for you.” He said while the door was still open.
Once the door was closed and he turned towards you, you grabbed his face, smashing your lips against his. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body closer to his.
“Mm…my…office…is the only…door with…a lock on it.” He muttered in between kisses. You both walked towards his office, which was connected to the classroom.
He closed and locked the door and turned on the light. Walking backwards, you leaned your backside against his desk, continuing to keep his lips on yours.
Licking your bottom lip, he gently demanded entrance to your mouth, which you gave gladly with a light moan. You kissed him deeply, pushing your tongue against his. His hands rested lightly on your waist and yours on his solid chest.
You lost track of time while enjoying kissing him, not worrying about anyone or anything else, until you suddenly wanted more. Much more.
“Is this okay?” You broke away from his lips to unbutton his shirt, looking up at him to silently ask. He firmly consented and slowly dragged your top off, followed by your bra.
He leaned down to kiss your collarbone, gently nipping his way down to your breasts before taking one in his mouth. His hand cupped the other breast, rolling the already hard nipple with his thumb and forefinger. He moaned into your breast, the vibration against your nipple sending a wave of heat and sensation through your body. You gasped and dug your nails into his broad, strong shoulders.
He helped you out of your pants and lifted you on to the desk. His hands became more urgent as he began kneading and caressing your thighs.
“Please, more, Harry,” You babble, unable to form a specific request.
He pulled your underwear off and swiftly placed his fingers on your clit, before slowly lowering his body. You had never been so turned on in your life. He pulled your legs over his shoulders and without another word, he licked a soft stripe along your slit, from your opening to your clit, before parting his lips and planting a gentle kiss on the clit itself. You covered your mouth to muffle your strained gasp.
“We need to be so quiet, honey. Just for now, next time I’ll make sure you can scream as much as you want.” He gently said, rubbing a hand up and down your thigh.
He licked another stripe along your slit and fixed his gaze on yours as you watched your Professor do this, which was the sexiest yet dirtiest thing you’d ever seen.
He continued to look up into your eyes as he alternated licking, sucking, and grazing his teeth along your clit and labia. Registering every reaction, noting what you responded to the most, every moan, every ‘yes, keep going’. He gave you the most attentive care you had ever been given during sex.
The men on campus you had been with either wouldn’t go down on you or only did it until you were wet enough for penetration. Harry enjoyed giving you oral. He began sucking harder when he felt your legs straighten out, stiff and trembling, while your breath became heavier and louder.
“Oh fuck, Professor, I, I–ugh” This time he didn’t correct you, almost finding you calling him Professor hot.
“Yes, cum for me. You’re so beautiful like this, Y/N,” He encouraged between hot heavy breaths, before he buried his face into your pussy, using his nose to rub your clit even more vigorously while his tongue licked at your entrance.
His words tipped you over the edge and you started grinding yourself upwards, grabbing the back of his head and lightly pushing his face into you. You were cumming violently, heels digging into his shoulder blades, fingernails digging into his scalp, wanting to scream at the intensity of the pleasure.
After he licked your sensitive folds and inner thighs clean as you came down from your extreme high, he wiped away the cum that painted his chin, the tip of his nose, and his lips.
As he stood up you noticed his cock pressing against the fabric of his trousers. He had almost made you forget, by putting your pleasure at the centre of his attention. You unbuckled his belt and massaged him through his underwear.
You then removed his underwear, getting a better look at him than you did last time when you both were so quick and urgent. This time, you both were taking in every moment.
He stepped towards you, caressing your breasts before running his hands down to your hips, making you feel safe in his embrace.
“Tell me what you need, baby.” He kissed your upper neck, then behind your earlobe, rubbing his cock along your sensitive slit.
“You Harry, please, I want you.”
He kissed your temple, acknowledging your request. Using the head of his cock to stimulate your clit and inner lips, he began breathing against your neck. He knew exactly how to pleasure you, you almost feel ready to cum on the spot with this new stimulation.
After a little more teasing, you couldn’t take it anymore. You lightly gripped his cock in your hand and led him to your very ready entrance.
Needing no further encouragement, he slowly plunged into you and finally buried himself fully. He waited a moment, looking at you to make sure you were comfortable. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he began to move.
You stayed as quiet as your mouth would let you, not wanting to risk someone hearing and Harry getting fired. But you could have spent the whole time screaming his name over and over again.
He was so deep in you that your muscles started to contract around his cock, causing him to grunt in pleasure. He gripped your hips hard and began thrusting more vigorously, you could tell he was close.
Teasing your clit, he began sending you towards your own climax. You started to grind up against him even harder and crashed your mouth onto his. Desperately kissing and gripping each other, you both approached your own orgasms.
“Harry…..Harry” you quietly moaned into his shoulder, using every ounce of strength you had to stay quiet.
“I know, I’ve got you.”
You cum again, your body twitching as the pleasure rolled through you.
Your muffled moans as well as your contracting muscles on his cock, drove Harry to his orgasm, which almost made him double over as he holds your thighs in a grip that will probably leave bruises. He pulled out and came on your thigh, neither of you really worrying about where any of it would land.
Gently, he took your flushed face in his hand, “You’re so perfect, that was so perfect.”
You nodded, fully agreeing with him
You smiled as your foreheads leaned against each other, happy that you could be this intimate with him and not hate yourself afterwards.
“I do want to make this work. It will be hard, we won’t be able to tell anyone, at least for now, but I want to make it work, make you comfortable.” He said, moving his hand up to brush away some of your hair.
“I want to too. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to tell you on Friday.” You replied, diverting your eyes from his out of embarrassment.
“Don’t apologize. Our lack of communication was not your fault at all” He said sternly. “We’re here now, we feel good, we’ll figure this out as we go.” His words comforted you. In that moment you could have stayed in his embrace forever.
“I should get going though, I don’t think makeup quizzes usually take this long.” You both chuckled, allowing yourself to pull away and put your clothes back on.
With a flirtatious wink, you said a temporary goodbye “See you tomorrow, Professor Styles”
A Week in the Life with a Broken Foot {part. 17} (housemate!harry series) (FLUFF/SMUT)
A Trip to the ER {part. 16} (housemate!harry series)
AN: i'm really sorry this took so long. this is the longest chapter yet in this series and combine that and the passing of liam, it took longer than i intended. anyways, hope you enjoy and please leave your feedback. next chapter is gonna be very smutty.
This story contains: broken foot obviously, crying, fingering of vagina, brief implications of somnophilia, handjob, attempting sex (but failed), fluff, comfort
After breaking your foot on Monday, the first week of your recovery has its ups and downs, but Harry is with you every step of the way.
Harry has been an absolute saint ever since you broke your foot in the shower. When you arrived home Monday evening with a fresh cast on your foot, Harry carried you inside and sat you on the comfy sofa. You asked him when you were gonna have to use your crutches, but he said not very often when he's around. Meaning, he'll carry you wherever you need to go within the house. When you go out in public or when he's just not home, you may have to use your crutches on those occasions and he'll eventually teach you how to use them properly.
Having ensured that you were comfortable on the couch, Harry quickly went to change out of his work clothes, which he hadn't had the chance to change yet since leaving work earlier in the day. After changing his clothes, he went to the kitchen to find a small snack for you to eat until dinner was ready. Although you weren't particularly hungry, he explained that it was essential to eat something with the pain medication you had taken in the car to prevent an upset stomach.
While you munched on some cheese crackers with your foot propped up on a pillow, Pixie resting in your lap, and the tv on some rubbish reality show, Harry started making dinner for the both of you. He had to admit that, after a day filled with adrenaline, he wasn't particularly hungry himself. Still, he recognized the importance of eating something light before going to bed. Plus, any leftovers would be great for the next day when he might not be in the mood to prepare a meal.
Harry decided to prepare your favorite, chicken alfredo. You had gathered all the ingredients during your grocery shopping trip last week, which meant he could whip it up in no time. While cooking, he often glanced into the living room to ensure you were still okay. You eventually had to tell him that you appreciated his concern but would let him know if you needed any assistance. His attentiveness was becoming somewhat overbearing.
After dinner was completed, he prepared two plates and took them to the living room. Harry thought it would be far more practical for you to stay on the couch instead of trying to eat at the table with your large cast, and he was indeed right. Whenever your foot touched the floor, a jolt of pain traveled up your leg. You found yourself wondering how you'll cope when Harry leaves for work each day.
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As the night drew to a close and you finished your meal, Harry offered his assistance in helping you bathe before he entered the shower himself. Since your cast couldn't get wet, you sat on the closed toilet seat while he carefully washed your skin with a soapy cloth. He made every effort to rinse you off adequately from your position and dried you before helping you change into your sleepwear. Although he planned to carry you to bed before showering himself, you insisted on staying in the bathroom with him.
"You just want to see me naked!" Harry said as a snarky remark.
As he entered the shower, white bum facing you, you replied sarcastically, "No, I just don't want to be alone, but also..... maybe I enjoy the view of my naked housemate."
"Boyfriend!" Harry shouted from behind the opaque shower curtain, taken offence that you called him your housemate. Though you once were just housemates, you were well beyond that title now.
Harry finished his shower while you remained on the toilet, waiting with patience. You may have occasionally glanced at him as he washes his body, unable to help yourself due to how attractive he was. As he exited the shower, you watched as he dried off and slipped into a fresh pair of black briefs.
After completing that, you allowed Harry to carry you to bed for the night. He selected your room because, if you needed to use the bathroom during the night, it's conveniently located straight across the hall. In contrast, his room is next to the bathroom but requires a left turn, which could lead to a higher chance of you accidentally hitting your foot on the doorframe or wall.
When you were finally able to lie down for the night, you realized the discomfort that would accompany you trying to sleep with a hard, thick, cast on your foot and leg. Typically, you and Harry would cuddle throughout the night, but the cast presented certain challenges with that routine. On a brighter note, you realized that he could still spoon you, which was a positive.
Harry's gentle fingers glided through your hair, lulling you into a state of sleep. Yet, this night proved to be different; instead of the typical few hours of continuous rest, the pain in your foot, coupled with the discomfort of the cast, caused you to awaken every hour. Each time, the soothing sounds of Harry's soft breathing helped you return to sleep, until you awoke again, then repeat.
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On Tuesday morning, Harry was up before you. Being aware of your lack of sleep the night prior, he allowed you to rest for as long as possible while he quietly got out of bed to take care of some business. After using the toilet and brushing his teeth, he went to the kitchen to start brewing coffee, followed by calling the school where he teaches at.
The headteacher (principal) answered the phone with a cheery tone, introducing himself and the schools name, not knowing it was Harry that was calling.
"Hi, Mr. Clarke, this is Harry Styles, a teacher there at ******* School. Yesterday I had to leave early because my girlfriend fell and broke her foot. Well she'll need someone to care for her for at least the first week of her recovery. So I was callin' to let you know I'll need to be out for a few days. I can stop by to give my substitute teacher instructions on what to do in my classroom if you'd like."
"Oh, hi, Harry!" Mr. Clarke spoke when he recognized one of his favorite teachers voices, "I'm sorry to hear that about your girlfriend. And yes, I'm sure we can figure something out with your class. Can you be here around eight? That'll give me an hour to find you a sub for the week and you can instruct them on what to do before your class arrives this morning."
Checking the clock on the stove, Harry replied, "Absolutely, eight sounds perfect. I'll see you then, Mr. Clarke." Following the conclusion of the call, he went about getting dressed for the quick trip to the school. His choice of clothing was not as formal as it would typically be for a teaching day, but it also didn't consist of his usual home attire, which included sweatpants and a t-shirt. Or just briefs if he's particularly hot.
After getting dressed in his own room, Harry decided to stop by your room across the hall prior to leaving and check on you. As he stepped into your bedroom, he noticed you sitting up in bed with a serious frown on your face and tears brimming your eyes. It dawned on Harry that you likely thought he was heading off to work for an ordinary full day.
"Don't want you to leave me." you muttered in a sad tone. You've yet to use your crutches and the idea of falling again while you're by yourself terrified you. Especially if your phone wasn't near.
Harry rounded the bed and gently sat beside you. "Baby, m'not goin' to work my normal shift today. M' just goin' to meet the substitute they're puttin' in my class for the week. Tellin' 'em what to do and all that. I'll be gone no longer then an hour, promise. Just keep your phone on you in case you need to call me for whatever reason."
"Wait, you called out of work? For me?"
Smiling gently, Harry cooed, "Well yeah, of course. You'll need someone to care for you for at least the first week. So m' gonna be out for about a week to stay home and take care of you. Until you can navigate somewhat on your own with that cast on your foot."
Tears welled up in your eyes again at his kindness. "I love you, Harry."
Harry giggled at your sweet confession before he leaned in to peck a kiss on your lips and responded back, "I love you too, Y/n. Do you need anythin' before I leave?"
"Yeah, can you carry me to the bathroom, please? Then take me to the living room to watch tv until you get back. And maybe.... um, give me one of my pain pills. My foot is killing me again." Harry nodded his head and carefully lifted you out of bed to bring you to the bathroom. While you sat on the toilet doing your business, he gave you privacy by getting the couch set up and placed a pill and a glass of water on the coffee table.
You ensured that you flushed the toilet before summoning Harry back into the bathroom to assist you in migrating to the living room. Once you were comfortably positioned on the cushions, with your foot elevated as per the doctor's orders, you took the pain medication. Harry offered you a granola bar to consume alongside your medicine. He then kissed you gently before departing, assuring you that he'd return soon.
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The remainder of Tuesday was relatively uneventful. You felt a growing sense of boredom from being cooped up indoors all day, but the recurring pain in your foot, which returned every few hours, made you reluctant to stray too far from home. Harry arrived back from school roughly an hour after he had left, just as he had promised. With it being a rainy day in London, he pulled the curtains shut and settled on the the couch next to you. You found a new series on Netflix and ultimately binge-watched the entire show by midnight.
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On Wednesday, a noticeable shift occurred. Although it wasn't necessarily bad, it was certainly an unfortunate development in your healing process. The shift in question? You found yourself becoming horny for the first time since your accident. Awakening to a throbbing sensation between your legs and you spent the first part of the day attempting to overlook it. In your efforts to ignore your horniness, you became more irritable, prompting Harry to believe that your mood was merely a result of the pain in your foot resurfacing.
When he asked what you wanted for breakfast, your initial thought was to say him. However, you chose to say oatmeal with fresh berries instead, all the while wearing a deep frown. After your meal, Harry wanted to know what you wished to do next. You considered saying something related to sex, but ultimately opted for watching another movie. The desire to alleviate the ache you felt between your legs was so strong, yet you were nervous about trying anything with your giant cast on, knowing it'll be in the way. Plus, you were afraid your cast might turn Harry off.
Mid afternoon is when Harry finally spoke up. For the past couple of hours he'd watched you toss and turn in your spot on the couch. He'd already asked several times if your foot was bothering you and you'd said no. So now he was genuinely confused as to why you couldn't keep still. "Baby, what's wrong? You sure it's not your foot? I can give you one last dose of your medicine tonight if you need some."
Exhaling in frustration, you came to the conclusion that it was finally time to confess, "Fine, I'm horny, Harry. That's why I keep fidgeting. I've felt this way since we woke up this morning." Your blatant honesty offers him comfort, knowing that your situation is one that he can easily fix.
Harry cackled out a loud laugh, startling Pixie who was sleeping on the arm of the couch. "Really? You've been actin' this way because you're horny? Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"I just.... not that I'm embarrassed to tell you I'm horny but um, I guess I'm just nervous to do anything with my cast on. I know you said there's many options that aren't actual sex but still..."
Harry turned serious now, seeing how you're actually nervous to get physical since your accident. But you shouldn't worry too much because he has a plan. "Alright, slide your shorts and panties down and spread your legs f'me."
"Hm, what?" you asked, confused on what he was planning to do. Maybe he was gonna eat you out. You'd never be opposed to that.
"Just do as I said." You compiled by lowering your shorts and underwear, which formed a small pile on the floor next to the couch. Harry helped you by gently spreading your legs while you remained seated upright. Your injured foot was elevated on the coffee table, and your other leg rested over his lap. Just as you were about to ask how he would proceed in this position, you were interrupted by the feeling of his hand making contact with your pussy instead.
"Ohh!" you inhaled sharply as his calloused fingers started to make circular motions on your needy clit. He then moved his fingers downward, parting your lower lips and allowing your wetness to serve as a natural lubricant before returning to your clit. The pleasure was overwhelming, as it had been a long day of longing for this very touch.
Harry gave your clit a break for a moment and decided to wedge his middle and ring finger inside your pulsing hole. The thickness of his fingers caused you to throw your head back on the couch and moan loudly as he basically started to finger fuck you. His fingers drove all the way in, then pulled out just to his fingertips before repeating. His palm patted against your clit with each thrust, also giving that attention in a non direct way. You're sure the way Harry had his wrist turned to finger fuck you was uncomfortable for him, but you couldn't care less. All you knew was he was making you feel so good.
Squelching sounds begun to echo in the living room from how wet you were, and that sound alone turned you on even more than you already were. Harry begun curling his fingers up and gently stroking your g-spot, which had you nearly jumping off the couch. The only thing that stopped you was your big ass cast wrapped around your foot and lower leg. "Oh, right there, right there, Harry!"
Grinning, Harry asked, already knowing the answer, "Yeah, that feel good, baby? M' I makin' your pussy feel good? Hm?"
You reached down and grabbed onto his wrist, helping him finger fuck you harder, but also to help you stay grounded. "Yes, fuck yes! Feels so good. I'm about to come."
While staying sat beside you, Harry continued to fuck you with his fingers while he purposely grinded his palm into your clit for added pleasure. That's what sent you over the edge. Just seconds later, you came so hard that Harry thought you might cut his fingers off with how hard you were clamping down on them. He continued to curl his fingers up, stroking your g-spot, and stimulating your clit with his palm, until you couldn't take it anymore and forced his hand away. You were left panting, trying to come back to earth after having been elevated in the clouds for so long.
"Better?" Harry questioned curiously, referring to your horniness.
Still catching your breath, you nodded, "So much better."
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When Thursday morning came, you opened your eyes and felt some subtle pressure prodding against your thighs. Struggling slightly due to your cast, you shifted in bed and peeked under the covers, discovering that the object you felt poking you was Harry's morning wood. He seemed to be in a deep sleep, but you still wanted to help him out. Despite your physical constraints, you felt a strong urge to return the favor since he helped you out the day before.
Lying on your back, you reached out and gradually trailed your hand down Harry's soft tummy until it was met with the bulge in his briefs. You wouldn't have proceeded without prior consent; however, you and Harry have previously discussed your boundaries regarding sexual matters. Both of you agreed that it's okay to engage with one another while the other is asleep, knowing that neither would remain in a deep sleep for too long once the activities commenced. Therefore, it's not like you'd be completely unaware while the other person did as they pleased.
Your hand inched down and you proceeded to cup your hand over his hard cock, giving subtle pressure to help ease the discomfort you're sure Harry was in. You moved your hand in a gentle back-and-forth motion across the front of his briefs, observing as Harry slowly came to consciousness. The sensation that fully awoke him was your hand slipping into the elastic of his underwear, your hand making direct contact with his erection.
Harry jolted awake, momentarily taken aback by your touch, but quickly settled as you began to pump his cock in your hand. He raised the blankets to catch a glimpse of your actions. The sight of you jerking him off made his back arch off the mattress, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. "Baby!"
"Does it feel good, Harry? Felt your boner against my thigh when I woke up and wanted to help you out."
Harry turned his head on the pillow to look at you. Through gritted teeth, he remarked in a slurred voice, "It feels amazin', m'love. Didn't 'ave to though. Would've been fine without this." Even while being pleasured, Harry's concerned about your well-being.
"Shush and let me make you feel good. Know we can't have sex right now but I hope this will do the trick." You retracted your hand to apply some saliva for lubrication, and while doing so, Harry removed his briefs and pushed the covers back. When you placed your wet hand back on his hard shaft, everything was visible now. Due to the bulkiness of your cast, you couldn't lie on your right side, but you turned your head to observe your actions and are very much aware of how your touch was affecting him. Seeings as he was falling apart from your slick strokes.
The rapid movement of your fist caused Harry's stomach to rise and fall with increasing speed, while his breathing became more ragged, accompanied by low moans that escaped from his parted mouth. This moment brought you back to the first time you gave him a handjob, when your relationship was still new and you were trying to take things slow.
You watched as precum started to seep from his flushed tip, prompting you to go faster with the movements of your hand, eager to lead him to his orgasm. Harry begun swearing, "Oh, fuck! Y/n, baby, shit! M' 'bout to come." He uttered a stream of curse words along with your name and terms of affection. You found it rather amusing to see Harry become so affected by your touch.
Abruptly, Harry's back lifted entirely from the mattress, his hands gripped the sheets tightly, toes curling, and a loud roar erupted from deep within his chest cavity. His cock pulsed in your hand before he finally came, releasing several thick streams of cum all over your hand and his stomach. Observing a man in such a raw and vulnerable state was, in your opinion, a remarkable sight, and you couldn't stop staring at him in awe.
Once the final drops of cum seeped from his sensitive tip, you carefully let go of his shaft and turned your attention to Harry's face. The tension in his facial muscles had diminished, contrasting sharply from the intensity he had shown during his orgasm, yet his eyes remained closed. His chest was still heaving, and his body trembled slightly. Given how hard Harry came, you didn't blame how his body was reacting.
After a few seconds, Harry became alert enough to speak. "Need to wake me up like that more often."
You tossed your head back with a chuckle. "We'll see, you eager boy. Let's get you cleaned up so we can eat. I'm starved." And by getting him cleaned up, you meant, he clean himself up because well, you can only do the bare - fucking - minimum in this stupid cast. You can't wait for it to be off.
Harry rose from his bed to retrieve a washcloth, intending to clean himself as well as your knuckles, which were stained with his jizz. He attended to his hygiene in the bathroom and brought a fresh cloth back to your bedroom, where he left you. Upon reaching the bed, he took your hand to wipe it clean, only to find that the cum on your fingers had vanished. "Um, where's the mess that was on your hand?"
You looked up at him, your eyelashes fluttered dramatically as you tried to come off as sweet and innocent. But when you licked your lips and softly said, "Mhm, I told you I was starving," you exuded anything but innocence. Harry might have wanted to be shocked by your act of licking his cum from your hand, but in reality, he's not. He was already aware that you have a dirty side to you.
"You nasty, nasty, girl."
---------------------------
Harry's objective for Friday was to assist you in mastering the use of your crutches for the first time. After your accident on Monday, he had taken on the responsibility of carrying you around the house, but he was only off of work for one week. Despite him being concerned about leaving you alone, he was confident that teaching you to use the crutches would allow you to be more independent. So after spending the majority of the day procrastinating, you made the decision after dinner that he could finally help you practice walking with your crutches.
With your crutches secured in his left arm, Harry reached out with his right arm to assist you in getting off the couch. "Ready?"
Upon standing from the cozy couch, you murmured, "No, but I suppose we need to get this done." You steadied yourself on one foot as Harry helped to place the crutches under your armpits. You immediately felt the discomfort they inflicted on your underarms. Although equipped with a rubber cushion, it offered hardly any relief from the pressure on your underarm bones.
Once the crutches were placed under your arms, Harry stood beside you for support and instructed, "Okay, now try and walk."
You went for the first step but was left clueless on how to even use those things. "Um, do I, how do I....?"
"Basically, move one crutch forward, followed by the other. After completin' that motion, propel your uninjured foot forward while ensurin' that your injured foot remains elevated above the floor." Although Harry's instructions were somewhat confusing, you decided to follow his advice. Your initial attempt nearly resulted in a fall, but fortunately, he was beside you for support, placing his hands on your hips. The second step you took was more successful. "See, you're gettin' better already."
As you kept practicing around the empty space in the living room and down the hall, you groaned, "Yeah, but it's so uncomfortable, under my arms and it's hard to use my strength like this."
"I know, baby. It's gonna be a bit uncomfortable, but remember it's only temporary. Soon enough, your foot will heal and you won't be in a cast anymore. Then we can actually get out the house and do things again."
You made it all the way to the back door at the end of the hall before stopping for a break. "Yeah, like that date you promised."
"Yep, the date where I'll have you in those little vibratin' panties, edgin' you all - night - long."
"Ugh, stop talking about that or you're gonna turn me on."
Harry grinned knowingly, "Who said that was a bad thing."
---------------------------
You practiced walking on your crutches a few additional times that evening before Harry helped you with your bath. In contrast to the first night after your accident, when he helped you bathe while you sat on the closed toilet, he has since used a waterproof covering for your cast, now allowing you to use the actual bath tub. Initially, you felt quite vulnerable having him take care of you like that, but as time passed, you grew more comfortable with his assistance. Plus truthfully, nothing could enhance your feeling of vulnerability more than when he walked in to see the aftermath of your slip that caused your foot injury. That was ten times worse than him casually bathing you.
After your bath and Harry's shower, you got into bed as you normally did. However, shortly after lying down, you voiced, "I wanna try having sex." The mention of that eagerly awaited date earlier in which Harry planned to tease and edge you all night, stirred your excitement, and you craved more than just hand or oral stimulation. You had not yet attempted having actual sex this week since having your cast on. Primarily because you believed it would be impossible, but then you realized you wouldn't know unless you tried.
Harry turned in bed to face you. "You sure? I don't want to hurt you."
You looked over at him and responded, "I mean, I wanna try. I don't know if it'll work or if it'll hurt, but we can see, if you want that is."
Harry agreed and begun getting you ready for sex, not knowing you were practically soaked already. He kissed and caressed your body until he made it to your panties. He had a sly grin from seeing how wet you were. Some of it was from the foreplay, but like you'd said, you'd been wet since this afternoon.
Once your panties were taken off and Harry's clothes were shed, you decided to attempt the classic missionary position, assuming it would be the easiest option. Unfortunately, that turned out to be wrong. The way Harry needed to position his knees was incompatible with the bulky cast on your leg. Each accidental bump resulted in sharp pains shooting through your foot. He wasn't even halfway in when you yelped in pain, having felt your casted leg being stretched beyond its limit.
Realizing that the current position wasn't going to work, Harry proposed, "Let's try spoonin'." He withdrew himself from your pussy and helped you lie down, positioning himself behind you. He made sure your injured foot was against the bed, rather than the foot and leg that needed to be raised over his hip. While he was able to penetrate you fully from this position, his legs kept accidentally bumping into your cast as he started thrusting, despite his attempts to avoid it, resulting in more pain in your foot.
"Ow, ow, please stop." Harry halted immediately, understanding that the discomfort was not stemming from the sex but rather from your foot, which was troubling you once more. Tears began to well up in your eyes as the realization dawned on you that sex just wasn't feasible with your cast on. "I'm sorry."
Pulling out for the second time, Harry sat up behind you and asked, "Why'r you apologizin'? Nothin' to be sorry for."
"Yeah but, I thought maybe we could have sex and obviously we can't. It's all my fault for breaking my foot."
Harry leaned down, hugging your upper body in his arms. "Shhh, it's okay. I told you the day you broke your foot, sex isn't our only option."
"I know and don't get me wrong, your fingers and mouth feel amazing, but is it so bad for a woman to miss her boyfriends cock inside her?"
Harry couldn't help but to giggle at your words. The next six weeks is gonna be hell on earth if you have to go without sex for that long. You just hoped by the end of it all, when you finally get to have sex again, it'll be ten times better after being deprived for so long.
(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)
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From me: I was just thinking about them (probs because I'm always thinking about school. This take place sometime between January and the second extra (pre-baby stuff). This is just a really quick little thing until I can write something of merit. I believe I'm almost caught up at work. I think I might be able to write something more substantial this week 💕 Thank you for being patient and kind.
Warnings: none, fluffy cute stuff.
Summary: Harry's not the only one who thinks she was made to be a teacher.
May
“I think we should outlaw field trips,” she mumbled sitting beside Harry in the front seat of the bus.
He chuckled. “It will be fun, kitten,” he assured her.
“Fun for you maybe. You got the good group of kids to chaperone.”
“I’ll give y’group a lecture before we split up, angel,” he promised. Harry snagged her hand from her lap and gave it a gentle squeeze. They tried not to be overly affectionate in front of the students because they didn’t want it to be weird...not that it was weird. But it was definitely something in their eyes. “Y’know they only gave y’a tough group because y’can handle it and they love you.”
She sighed. “I know, I know.”
They were dressed comfortably for the history museum trip. Business casual that made Harry think she was modeling for teachers in textbooks. She was so pretty it made his heart skip a beat.
She had been telling Harry how excited she was to go on the trip up until she got the names of the group she was chaperoning. She was especially excited because schools always got great discounts for museums that she generally hated to pay for. But not even the group rate was enough to make her enthusiasm spike. She fiddled nervously with her engagement ring dangling on her necklace. Harry truly outdid himself and wearing the ring on her finger in the city made her nervous so she opted for the necklace so she could tuck it away safely. (But she assured Harry the thought of taking it off made her feel naked.) Until it was tucked away, Harry smiled, self-satisfied as she twisted it on the silver chain. That pretty diamond glittering in the sun coming through the window of the bus made him so happy. The little symbol that they’d be together forever. She was made for him. He was certain.
He almost forgot he was supposed to be comforting her. It was loud behind them. Not excessive, but when forty something students chattered in an enclosed area, it always got a bit loud and also didn’t help his train of thought. “They’ll pull it together for you,” he draped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. The kids would have to deal.
“Aw!” Someone droned. Her cheeks heated briefly but Harry turned in his seat and glared so that the sound was cut off quickly.
“Jus’ show them all y’favorite things,” he shrugged.
“My nightmare is losing a student on a trip,” she sighed. “This is so stressful.”
“They’re not little ones, m’love,” he reminded her. “They can wander a bit and they’ll be okay. S’not like they don’t all go to the mall on their own and whatnot. Plus, I’d never let y’take the fall for losing one of them. We’d find them. M’sure a lot of parents wouldn’t either. But s’not going t’happen.”
She nodded. Then she sighed heavily and squeezed his hand back. “You’re right.”
“Mm, music t’my ears,” he grinned.
“Don’t push it.”
*
But Harry was right. Her group of students who were usually a rough and tumble kind of bunch really got into the trip. At first they were quiet, almost shy. But she acted as if she didn’t notice and told them all about the exhibits they encountered and explained as much as she could. She did her best to connect the displays to their own lives so they would care more.
As such, they walked right along with her and forgot their shyness. They asked intelligent follow up questions after she explained what they were looking at. They followed all her directions and even asked her for more information about the information she told them as they walked through the rooms. She was going to boost their grades when they got back to school with bonus points for being so good and learning at the same time.
The relief was exhilarating.
About part way through the morning, her group of eight needed a bathroom break. She waited outside the bathrooms and checked her phone for any kind of emergency. Harry texted to check in on her, so she answered to let him know how good her group was and how happy she was to be on the trip again.
“School trip?”
She looked up instinctively, the lanyard around her neck was the only thing that marked her as an adult in comparison to her students. Her slightly shorter frame didn’t compare to the boys she taught who often towered over her. She thought she usually looked the part of being a teacher. She felt it was written on her face (or maybe it was the headband with the Treaty of Versailles printed on the fabric and her pencil earrings that gave it away). The man before wasn’t one of her coworkers but he had a lanyard around his neck from a school she hadn’t heard of before.
She nodded. “Oh yeah, drove an hour in,” she cleared her throat awkwardly.
“Same here. About an hour and a half. You’re a history teacher as well?” He asked.
Her students were still in the restroom, so she cleared her throat again and nodded. “Yes, World History.”
“Same here, where are you in the curriculum right now?”
“We just finished up the Industrial Revolution. About to start Imperialism.”
“Fun stuff! You know, one of my students heard you talking about the Enigma exhibit. Said I left out a ton of information that you seemed to know a lot more about.”
She chuckled. “I see, sorry about that,” she smiled politely. “I get a little too into Bletchley Park.”
“Don’t we all.”
“Miss,” one of her students said suddenly appearing from the bathroom with two others. She glanced toward the men’s bathroom but didn’t see any of them just yet. “Can we pop into the giftshop?”
She glanced at her watch. “I think we have time for that, scope it out before everyone else at the end of the day. We have lunch in about an hour.”
“Are you all eating here, in the food court?”
“I think we’re eating outside,” she said. “Nice day and all... I think the boys are coming out now,” she smiled at her student. “Nice meeting you. Enjoy the museum,” she ushered her students toward the men’s room and sighed.
“Was he hitting on you, Miss?” She whispered.
“Shh.”
“Okay, queen,” she giggled. “Are you going to tell Mr. Styles?”
“He wasn’t hitting on me.”
“Miss,” she laughed. “He was so hitting on you.”
“I didn’t—”
“Who was hitting on her?” One of the boys asked.
“No one—”
“That guy.”
“Oooh, he’s cute. Wait until Mr. Styles finds out he has competition.”
“Miss, I think we have to intimidate him,” another one of the boys explained knowingly. “It’s what Mr. Styles would want.”
“Oh, my word,” she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Can we go to the giftshop?”
*
“Everyone please look in the seat next to you and check if the person you travelled with on the way here is still here! We’re doing a final headcount as soon as we’re all seated.”
“Mr. Styles!” One of her group members sang. She glared at him briefly with her best teacher stare before she sat facing forward in her seat. Harry squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.
“Yes? Didn’t y’torture m’fiancée enough today?”
“I would never torture her! But your fiancée got hit on by a guy by the bathroom!” He shouted.
The resounding oohs from the entire bus made her blush. She looked straight forward at the seatback in front of her. “Really?” He smiled and glanced down at the pretty girl beside him.
She shook her head. “He was not flirting.”
“Course he was, Miss! You’re a total catch!” The girl in her group called back.
“She’s right, y’know,” he winked at her knowingly, his voice was low. Maybe only one or two students heard Harry say it and they were kind enough to giggle and not make a scene of it or embarrass her further. “Alright, alright, head count!”
She stayed put while Harry walked up and down the aisle. When he returned to the front, he told the bus driver that everyone was accounted for and they could go on their way.
“Hiding your affair from me?” He winked.
“Shut up.”
He chuckled and grabbed her hand from her lap and brought her fingers to his lips briefly. “S’no surprise, really.”
“It’s probably because my ring was inside my shirt.”
“Lucky ring,” he hummed.
“Harry,” she hissed.
“The man has good taste, kitten,” he shrugged. “M’not surprised at all.”
She sighed. “I wasn’t hiding it from you. I just didn’t want to make you jealous. I don’t want you to think you have anything to be jealous of, you know?”
“I know, I know,” his voice was so kind and soft. The way he sounded when they were falling asleep. It was quiet and warm. If they weren’t in front of forty something students, he probably would have held her cheek and kissed her the way he did every night. Would have traced her features and told her how much he loved her. “You’re jus’ so pretty, so nice, so lovely that anyone with half a brain cell can see it from across the room,” he assured her. Her relief was massive. The idea of hurting Harry’s feelings or betraying his trust was one of her worst fears. She pulled the necklace from its spot and twisted it again and Harry’s smile grew. “God,” he shook his head. Then he squeezed her hand three quick times. She squeezed it back four times in succession. Both knew what it meant. A not quite secret that they loved each other.
She was always grateful for Harry coming into her life. The day she left her old school and got her new job was so scary and sad. In hindsight, she would have told herself in her first year of teaching that a new school was in her future, and she was going to meet a man that was everything she wanted and more.
Someone who was made for her.
“What?” He smirked. The sun was setting and bathing the bus in a soft golden light that only highlighted how handsome Harry was.
“Just thinking about how jealous I would be if a girl flirted with you on a field trip. You have way more kindness than I do.”
“Oh, don’t worry, kitten,” he mumbled and brought his mouth to her ear. “M’going t’show you how crazy the thought of another guy chatting y’up makes me later. Remind you that y’don’t need anyone else. Ever,” he promised and pressed a chaste kiss that did not match the intensity of his words.
Her cheeks warmed once more but she smiled. Shaking her head she squeezed his hand three more times.
--
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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 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.
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! 🤗
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.”
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
•·················•·················•
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.”
