Harry Styles Oneshots

Tastes Like Strawberries 🍒

Harry takes Y/N on a seemingly innocent and romantic picnic.

Warnings: kissing, teasing, swearing, slight exhibitionism, fingering, dirty talk,

WC: 4.4k

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Romantic little getaways have always been fond things for Y/N and Harry to do. Last year he took her to Rome for the weekend and a few months later, they cruised on his personal yacht for a week. Y/N used to travel a lot when Harry was on tour two years ago, but as of recent with his busy schedule in the studio, neither of them have had much time together to chat, let alone to plan a spontaneous trip away.

So when Y/N gets home from shopping and Harry is back from the studio early, prepping a little wicker basket full of fruits and finger foods, she's eagerly jumping at the mention of a spontaneous picnic in the park not too far from their London home.

He's always been a hopeless romantic, even more so since he proposed three months ago over a homemade, candlelit dinner in their dining room. Y/N knows he won't fail to make the picnic anything short of romantic and magical, and so, putting on one of her favourite ditsy sundresses, she lets him drive them to the chosen destination.

It's a little late in the evening, the summer air still warm on their skin, the sky still bright and winds still blowing a caressing breeze. While Harry carries the picnic basket out of the car, he lets Y/N set up the blanket a little way from other couples and families that occupy the different spaces.

He's dressed in the suitable summer attire; some cargo shorts and a plain white t-shirt that hangs a little loose around his middle. It's been a while since Harry's had a haircut, and over the past few weeks, Y/N has thoroughly enjoyed coursing her fingers through his thick waves.

Harry's enjoyed it just as much — especially when she tugs just right at the root when he's got his face buried deep within her sweet thighs.

He has no shame watching as the gentle breeze blows the skirt of her dress up when she bends over to unroll the blanket. Harry gets the most perfect view of the swell of Y/N's ass, the way the lace string disappears between her cheeks, and the clothed triangle of her cunt.

There's no need for him to look away bashfully, not when he's the one that knows what he's got planned. But knowing Harry stands right behind her, Y/N makes no attempt to push her skirt back down. Instead, she lets him get a good look, and knowing his stare is boring into her backside sends warmth across her body.

"You're gonna need to put the basket down to stop the corners from blowing up," she huffs out over her shoulder, effectively breaking Harry from his little trance of pleasure.

He hums, nodding his head. Sinking to his knees, Harry places the basket to the side and reaches out for his girl. She squeals when she feels his hands grip deliciously at her waist, eyes fluttering closed, but Y/N has to remind herself where she is and who's around.

"Stop it," she chastises under her breath, a fire of excitement burning her skin.

A lazy grin sits wicked on Harry's lips as he helps her hold down the corners of the blanket. They sit on either side of it, Y/N admiring the green scenery while Harry unloads the picnic basket and lays out the array of finger foods he had prepared.

A hearty smile makes its way on Y/N's lips as she watches. He's had this prepared on the off chance that she would agree, and the thought warms her heart. She can tell he made the sandwiches herself, and she wonders when he found the time to cup up the fruit and cook a batch of her favourite chicken pasta salad.

Y/N sighs, eyes bright. "Harry, this is so cute. Can't believe you did all this."

His grin only spreads; her praise an influential stroke to his ever-growing ego. Harry reckons this evening will be one to go down in the books — one he knows she'll remember and think back to every time they have a picnic again.