Harry Styles Preferences/Imagines

Fun In The Car

You were woken out of a dead sleep by Harry shaking your shoulder. Rolling over groggily, you squint to see the time on the clock; midnight. You look up at Harry through clouded vision as he complains about not being able to sleep due to jetlag. He helps your tired body from bed, tugging a cream-colored jumper over your nightgown before leading you down stairs. "Where are we going" you mumble as he leads you out into the chilly night towards his brand new Audi R8 parked in his driveway. He jacks the heat up once both of you are seated on the black leather seats trying to stop your teeth from chattering. "For a drive, maybe it'll make me sleepy," he says hopefully covering your bare knee with his large hand. By the time Harry pulls his Audi back into the driveway, you're slumped against the side of his shoulder watching his hands as they flex against the steering wheel. The two of you are silent for a few minutes, his long fingers still wrapped around the wheel and you sigh. "Tired yet?" you ask and he groans his reply before leaning against the steering wheel. "I know how to make you sleepy," you say suggestively as you lean your back against the chilled window. He turns his head on the steering wheel so he can glance at you, eyes trailing over you as you shift your legs apart. "Oh and how's that?" he smirks, leaning back in his seat as you climb across the gearshifts and onto his lap. "Take your pants off and I'll show you" you mumble against his ear, grinning as he grips your hips against him. It's too cold for you him to take your clothes off so he settles for groping you over his jumper as you pull him from the black trainers he had pulled on before leaving the house. His breath is ragged against your jaw as you drop onto him, circling your hips slowly until he's struggling to keep his grip on your hips light. Gripping the door handle above you, you lean forward to press your lips to his as he pulls you against him faster. He shifts upwards, tilting your body back against the steering wheel as he drives up into you until you're pressing your hand against the cold glass of the windshield. He moans against your neck as the two of you climax together, pulling you forward into his chest as you catch you breath. He chuckles against your jaw before he's gripping you against him to slide from the car and carry you back into the house. "Plenty tired now," he murmurs against the back of you neck, curling his body around yours as you fall back asleep in the warmth and comfort of his bed. It takes him weeks to wash your handprint from the inside of his windshield.