otr*

10

“We had a farewell meal of franks and beans in a Seventh Avenue Riker’s, and then Dean got on the bus that said Chicago and roared off into the night. There went our wrangler. I promised myself to go the same way when spring really bloomed and opened up the land. And this was really the way that my whole road experience began, and the things that were to come are too fantastic not to tell.”

“Some people are meant to be loved and others just naked”

A/N: I got stuck with OTR and wanted to try something new. Basically this is businessman Harry, long af, smutty af and has daddy kink. Please tell me what you thought of it if you read it? I might start working on a second part if you like it. xx

Harry and Y/N are enemies in the business world but the perfect partners under the sheets.


Based on the song Wrong by Zayn ft. Kehlani





Y/N is good at getting what she wants. Most of it, she won’t lie, is handed to her in a flash when she mentions her last name but she’s never felt one goddamn bit of shame for it. If there’s one thing she had been taught is to feel proud of her genes and with pride is how she shall use them to her advantage. She enjoys drawing out the tension when her high heels click into her office and everyone around her avoids direct eye contact in case she throws a fit or feels like firing them. Likes that whenever she has a special gala evening event her assistant’s phone blows up with designers begging her to wear their brands. Fucking loves being the heiress of a growing empire and she defends it mercilessly. A hustler in couture dresses and fresh manicure.

In rare occasions, though, almost once in a blue moon, Y/N gets told No. When she can’t use her father’s connections as a shield, she isn’t afraid to build her own and get to work.

“Styles Enterprises, how may I help you today?” the female voice squeaking bored Y/N to death. She decided to let the silence linger just for kicks. The girl on the line might’ve had nothing better to do, but she, on the other hand, was in the middle of chugging down her Cosmopolitan. What could that bimbo do about it, anyway? Y/N could get her fired with a snap of her fingers, didn’t even matter that she wasn’t her boss.

Speaking of, that fucker was dead.

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