Prof!Harry pre-part 7 (Patreon)

This is a small part between the end of part 6 and before the entirety of part 7 :) Hope you like it!! 

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vii.

Harry was insatiable. 

He really didn’t mean to be -- he thought that maybe once they had sex with one another it might take some of the edge off. At least enough that he could go an entire class period without the thought of prying her clothes off pervading any inch of his mind. Or that maybe when she came in for his office hours because she had a legitimate question, he wouldn’t think back to how they were snuggled up to one another post-orgasm, stomachs messy from Harry’s cum. He thought that the little storyline in his head where she and he go out for a nice date, where he can take her out, buy her a nice meal and maybe doing something as cliche as going to a movie after -- would at least ebb some. 

Instead, he only grew more and more voracious, and it wasn’t only including sex. It would be easier if that’s all he wanted, but he just wanted her. Harry wanted to be beside her as much as he wanted to be in her, and he wanted to hear her moan as much as he wanted to hear her theorize about why humans are attracted to fear. He wanted to hold her close and keep her warm and safe -- he wanted to feed her so well that her tummy bulged out bloated, and she was content and happy. 

And the worst of it, was that she had no inkling of a clue. It’s not like Harry is giving her much intel, to be fair, he’s merely thinking most of this in his head. They fuck, and they fuck often but he tries not to bother with sweet little cuddles outside of aftercare, and it takes everything in him not to just call her at 2AM because he wants to chat. It’s not that he doesn’t think that she’ll want to, it’s about the guilt that he feels. He can’t let himself get caught up in these feelings -- to let them weigh on her as she is exiting UNI, would be incredibly cruel. She still has so much life to explore post-college, he doesn’t want her to feel tied down. It’s easier this way, if he keeps his feelings to himself and attempts to pretend that his heart doesn’t flutter every time she appears at his office doorway, or at his flat with a box of sweets that she just found it certain they both needed to partake in eating it. 

He could try to detach himself -- distance himself, but that would look fucked wouldn’t it? They have sex and he disappears? And last time he had attempted to distance himself, Y/N only took it as a challenge rather than a defeat. She sought him out and questioned him, and Harry knows he would break and tell her everything then. Besides, he doesn’t want to detach from her. He wants to soak up as much of this as he can until she wants to end it. 

“Dr. Styles!” Y/N’s voice rings through his flat, followed by a useless, thudded knock on the door, “I’ve got something for youuuuuuu.” She sings sweetly, drawing Harry’s attention from where he’d been hovering over his desk. He was disgruntled -- it’d been a good four hours since he had started the papers and he was wondering why he ever assigned shite like this anyway from his lower level classes. He was reading word for word from articles and it was stressing him right the hell out, because he very well couldn't fail them all if they were all having the same problem. But how could he configure this in with their grades without them assuming that they could continue with this and get the same mark, even if he’s being lenient? 

He turns in his office chair to face the door just as Y/N appears in the doorway with a big, cheek stretching grin on her face as she holds a parcel wrapped in light pink paper in both hands, and she shakes it happily. “It’s proper, cute isn’t it? I had to watch about a thousand videos on how to wrap it properly. I wanted it to be perfect for you.” 

“Oh!” His brows raise, as he tilts his office chair back, bobbing back and forth before rubbing over his face tiredly, “What’s this about, hm?” 

She slides into the room, thumping her heel against the door so that it shut behind her, “We had our first, really nice spring day, and spring’s symbolism is like -- renewal, yeah? So I just like to “renew” my friendships with everyone, so I get them a little spring goodie!” Y/N hands the package to him as she plops down in her seat beside him, “Yours is actually plural though, spring goodies ‘cos I found a few more things I thought you’d like.” 

His face lowers into a pout, “Well, thank you Sweet girl, but I feel a bit guilty that I haven’t gotten you anything in return.” 

“I don’t give gifts to get them silly -- I much prefer giving than receiving too, so you’re only making me happier.” 

Harry smiles softly at the connotations behind her self-admitted fact. He had some idea of what he would do for her in return, and with a glance to the door, he saw that she had gone through locking it preemptively. For now though, he lays the package on the desk and carefully peels the wrapping paper at the taped seams. Harry wets his mouth as he looks up at her, and she watches him eagerly, as if she couldn’t wait to see what was in there as well. Beneath the pink wrapping paper is a box with intricate, blue floral design printed along it. If there is one thing he’s learned from Y/N, it’s that presentation is the key to success in her eyes -- that’s why he receives laminated essays from her with plastic binding spines. 

He peels the lid off the top of the box, and there lies quite a few spring goodies: a knitted blanket of soft, minty spring green yarn, a fresh-cut lilac wooden wicked candle, three rehydrating face masks, a softening foot mask, and about four things of skittles (which he had told her was his grading snack). Mouth drawing in a small pout, he feels his heart swell up in his chest -- Harry can’t remember the last time he had been given a gift not around the time of his birthday or Christmas. Hell, Harry questions if anybody had ever done that for him in the past. 

But here Y/N is, clapping her palms together, “Okay, this has to be my best one yet, don’t tell any of my other friends or they’d be livid,” she holds the edge of the desk, pulling herself close, eased by the wheels on the chair, “You’re just a bit easier to shop for, since we like the same shite -- or at least I’ve gathered as much.” 

“This is amazing!” He plucks the candle up with one hand while he pets the blanket with the other, “I -- I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Y/N, I love it all.” 

“When you light the candle and cuddle up in the blanket, I expect pictures, and detailed accounts.” 

“Reckon you should just come over after class and we’ll snuggle up in the blanket and light the candle together.” Harry suggests and Y/N’s smile only broadens before she nods. 

“Thank god you invited me, I didn’t want to be pushy but I wanna smell this candle lit more than I want to pass my research final,” she stretches out, a yawn pulling at her lips, “D’ya think we could watch something spooky? Kinda in a spooky mood.” 

Harry hates how giddy he feels when they make plans together, even if it’s as simple as a cuddle, a candle, and something spooky. He is shot with a specific sort of excitement that sizzles through his entire being, one that is only akin to the feeling he gets when he’s made a plan with her. Y/N stretches across the table and feels the blanket herself, “Daddy,” her voice inflicts a different kind of sweet, that makes his ears perk up and his blood rush toward his groin, “You’ll let me suck on you later, right? You seem so stressed, I wanna make you feel better.” 

How she could switch so quickly from a sweetheart, to the most suggestive, blunt little thing, Harry would never be able to figure it out himself. He can only think about how much he likes it. 

“Of course you can, baby.”