rich leather

Sunbather
Deafheaven
Sunbather

held my breath and drove through a maze of wealthy homes. I watched how green the trees were. I watched the steep walkways and the white fences. I gripped the wheel. I sweated against the leather. I watched the dogs twist through the wealthy garden. I watched you lay on a towel in grass that exceeded the height of your legs. I gazed into reflective eyes. I cried against an ocean of light.

 

Crippled by the cushion, I sank into sheets frozen by rose pedal toes. My back shivered for your pressed granite nails. Dishonest and ugly through the space in my teeth. Break bones down to yellow and crush gums into blood. The hardest part for the weak was stroking your fingers with rings full of teeth..

 

It’s 5 A.M…and my heart flourishes at each passing moment.

 

Always and forever.

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

A/N: Part III of CEO Harry! I sincerely hope this was worth the wait and that you guys enjoy it. Thank you for your lovely comments and support. As always, this includes smut, daddy kink and a shitload of angst. I hope you like it. ♥

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

Part I. Part II. Part III. Part IV.

Originally posted by ohbabyyeah

The sense of overachievement deeply ingrained in Y/N’s mindset is an innate weapon that can be both a blessing and a curse: when success is the rule rather than the exception, each failure, no matter how minor, feels like the end of the world.

Oliver Zhang represented all four horsemen during Y/N’s friday night apocalypse. She was certain she hadn’t experienced humiliation to its greatest extent until he stood her up at a VIP rooftop bar that overlooked the whole city and highlighted the blossoming nightlife she was letting go to waste -along with three hours of her precious time and a new outfit.

Unable to convert stress into drive whenever the gap between her expectations and the reality of her circumstances starts to diverge, she reverted back to a well-practised posture: that of spoiled brat utterly resolute in her decision to fuck shit up and get away with it.

The taste of defeat and the remnants of shame hovering on the tip of her tongue assumed control of her body and, naturally, what ensued was nothing short of wrongdoings she would gladly exclude from her future autobiography.  A videotape in fast forward, memories that her mind would disguise as dreams -and therefore wouldn’t regret- until the following morning.

What her brain did register was that at some point, her low cut silk burgundy dress came off. 

And somewhere along the way, she ended up in Harry Styles’ bed.

Her resolve might parallel that of an all-powerful creature but she’s only limited to her human strength, and no human in recorded history has been proved strong enough to fight off the inevitable.

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