Harry Styles Imagines

#90 Falcon Lover

Summary: Teasing Harry about a packers loss.

FALCON LOVER

Especially if he put so much energy and passion into the game. Leaning forward in his seat, pumping his fist in the air, curling his toes and hissing when they were a little shy of the end zone.

Not to mention, getting to hear a throaty groan from him every time the Falcons scored a touchdown because "They're jus' stupid birds who can't play, poppet. They don't deserve t'go to the Bowl." And although his argument wasn't strong, your team was in the lead and that's what mattered...

"At least they're not behind by a thousand points," you chided. "And then there's the fact that they're actually... how should I put this? Trying." You end that sentence by delivering a playful pinch to his hip.

It caused his body to make the slightest jolt. "Hey! Falcon lovers don't get t'touch me," he grumbled out, making eye contact with you. It was evident that he was attempting to suppress a smile.

"Interesting. That's not what you were saying last night. Or any other night, for that matter." With that, you gave your attention back to the game. From the corner of your eye, you could see him, still, staring at you with a slacked jaw.

As even he was secretly expecting, Greenbay lost—by a good 23 points. All it took was one sly look in his direction for him to loose it. There was really no way you could've escaped in time. His muscular arms were around you, working against your flailing limbs, pulling you to the floor. You were giggling even as you back hit the carpet and his cross necklace hung above you due to his new position on your waist. The new proximity allowed you to smell his cologne even more. A surge of anticipation traveled through your chest.

"You're annoyin' sometimes, you know tha'?" It was the loss talking for him. His eyes were shimmering with the smallest hint of amusement. It appeared as if tiny stars were in them. "Always tryin' t'get me goin' an' such." One of his hands snuck down to squeeze your side. That drew a surprised squeal from between your lips.

You squirmed a bit. "I'm sorry, okay? You can let me up now. It won't happen again," you attempted to crawl out of the hole you dug. He was having none of it, however.
His face lowered until your lips were nearly brushing. "How m'I 'posed t'know you're lyin' t'me? You've always been a bad little kitten." You were too occupied looking into his eyes to feel his fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt.

Right as his fingertips begin to gently flutter over your sensitive stomach, he pressed his lips to yours so you had no choice but to laugh into his mouth. Both of your breaths mixed as you kissed. Though, it was more him kissing you—steadily, yet greedily. Nothing but a simple smile rested on his face. Meanwhile, your chest was about to burst from the fact that your body was experiencing two strong sensations at the same time. It was intense. You were gasping for air when both suddenly disappeared.

"What the heck?" you breathed out, in shock of what just happened.

A velvety chuckle emitted from his mouth. "That was hot," he admitted. "Look at you. All pantin' flustered because of me," he cooed.

"You're such a big meanie." You didn't mean that in the least bit.

"Trust me, princess. You haven't seen mean yet."

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A/N

In spirit of the Super Bowl coming up soon! Are any of  you guys rooting for a team? I'm just going with whoever my dad likes, tbh. 

Thanks for reading!

-Nic ❤