#y’all have me reading and swooning over the Lewis variants I’ve never watched 😂

[sometimesanalice]

The way Emma is living my dream! Where’s my beefy, blue-eyed, big-handed surfer man??

If I started talking about all the perfect prose in this, I’d probably never stop. It’s 3k of perfection! (Did I quote most of this fic back to you beneath the cut? You bet I did!)

You tried to kill me with the smut, but it was all the casual affection that did me in! If anyone needs me, I’ve checked into a resort at the seaside 🫡

(more for you!)

Golden sunlight follows after him as Harrison ducks into Bluebird Coffee— like, I’m not even a whole sentence in and you’ve got me needing to comment. This is such a pretty image and how dare you. The immaculate word choices here right off the bat? Ma’am I love it.

half-a-size-too-small shirt stretches deliciously snug across his broad shoulders and wide abdomen – across muscles firmed by years of surfing and heavy lifting— stoppp! This is such a delicious mental image. I need a moment or 5 to recenter myself. HALF SIZE TOO SMALL SHIRTTTTTT. It’s so soft and he wears it so well, he did that for all of us!

He looks so good, in fact that Emma almost forgets to be surprised to see him.— this is genuinely so precious. I love her just ogling this beefy surfer man she’s hardcore crushing on (and banging, good on you Emma babe!)

an eclectic record store that somehow always manages to have rare pressings of her favorite records. — “somehow” 🤭

the cute and charming regular with the ocean blue eyes who always orders a Red Eye and chokes it down at the counter like a man in severe pain. — the way when I first read this I was like struck by how HIM that coffee order was, and then sent giggling over the idea of this man wincing down trying to pound down scalding, hot coffee in one go 😂

"Can I get a honey latte from my honey?" Harrison asks with a lopsided grin, nacho levels of cheese in his deep voice. He's so... stupid and adorable, and Emma's so damn fond of him.— I’m still swooning and sighing over this one! Like he’s so precious and goofy, but it works so well for him! And he’s just so smitten!

“I didn't want my girl biking home in the rain." My girl. Her grin is stupid wide. "Thought I'd hang here and watch you work and drive you home after your shift." — sweet boy 🥰 I simply cannot! And if he gets to flirt with his girl and enjoy the view of the pretty interior of that coffee shop so be it!!

She's wearing shorts underneath, but god, Harrison's smoldering attention makes her kind of wish she wasn't wearing anything at all underneath. — HE’S WISHING IT TOO LMAO

She breaks one of the for-here mugs and sloshes almond milk all over the edge of the counter and onto the floor because Harrison is here with his big biceps and his broad, freckled shoulders and his knowing smile and his slutty gold chain.— she’s so real for this!! I’d be spilling syrups, forgetting orders, and stuttering my way through every interaction 😂 BICEPS! FRECKLES! SLUTTY CHAINNNNNNNN! What’s a girl to do?!

He pulled her spit-soaked panties down to her knees and worked her open with his clever mouth and his big fingers and wouldn't let her have his beautiful cock until Emma begged him.— she’s a stronger woman than I because I would have simply CEASED TO EXIST. But also pretty boys, have pretty cocks. And I love her thinking of it as ‘beautiful’ (it could grace the September edition of vogue!)

"There. That's better, isn't it, honey?" Harrison cooed against her shoulder, pushing into her from behind, his grip on her hips just shy of bruising.— all rational thought and feminism has left my bodyyyyy

He's always so much, so good. - 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

It’s a flashback and I’m already losing my mind. Ames you did the most! Thank you for doing the good work 🙏🏼

He seized her hair with one hand and tugged her head to the side, licking a stripe up the side of her neck, licking the sweat from her skin. —THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT (read: the squeak I squoked)

And Emma had to shower and go to work before Harrison could make good on his promise to make her come around his cock, but it's... fine.— TO LEAVE A GIRL HIGH AND DRY SIR CONSERVE THE WATER THAT GIRL DESERVES HER ORGASM! She deserves a Nobel for how she managed to make it through the day without losing her mind.

(The “it’s really so fine” had me cackling, miss ma’am is at her wits end and he knowssss ittttt)

She'd probably be embarrassed except Emma's so fucking wound up that Harrison could probably rock her down on his broad thigh and make her explode. — hello, yes, I would like to read about this next. Catch me tossing a coin to the Witcher. 🪙

pulling back with his hand on the front of her neck, his broad fingers spread wide— AMELIAAAAA NEXT HE’LL BE SPITTING THAT HONEY LATTE INTO HER MOUTH AND I OOP—-

It's so cute of him to ask – so scandalized, as if Harrison hasn't fucked her on the beach multiple times by now, laying her out under a blanket of stars on the longest night of the year. — 🤭🤭🤭

She kisses up his neck, his strong neck, nibbling at the constellation of freckles and beauty marks on his tan skin. Licks the next words against his hammering pulse, against the width of his shoulder. — it’s been a steady descent into madness, it’s been real but I’m shipping myself off to the seaside now 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

He knows the answer, but of course, Harrison wants to hear her say it out loud. — CHEEKY BOY WHAT A TEASE

He knocks her legs wider, pushing his strong thigh between hers again, knocking her off balance, and it's enough that Emma needs to lean into him even more. He's practically holding her up now, practically pinning her up against the locker, shielding her completely, just in case. — like it’s so hot, but then he’s also such a gentleman?!! Like manhandle me please, but also he’s making sure she’s not totally exposed to anyone that might happen by. I mean, did that front door even get locked?!

Emma's never been more grateful for the downfall of One Direction and the subsequent launch of Harry Styles's solo career than in this exact moment. Thank fucking god. — am I Emma?!!

Watching the door carefully, Harrison cradles the back of her head in the crook of his bulging arm, holding her close, and pumps his fingers in and out of her with obscenely wet sounds.— he’s shielding her, he’s watching the door, and I’m losing my mindddddddd! 🫠🫠🫠 ITS WHAT SHE DESERVESSSS

He peels off her shorts, then her soaked panties, slipping them into his pocket.— lmaooo a causal souvenir from their first hook up at her place of work 💁🏼‍♀️(I’m sure there’ll be more 🤭)

He grips her ass with both hands and spreads her even wider and when Harrison presses into her to circle her clit with his tongue, Emma's done for.— KEEPING THE HARRISON EATS IT FROM BEHIND AGENDA ALIVE AND WELL 🫡🫡🫡

Harrison drops a wet, grinning kiss on her cheek and pulls her into his side, his arm over her shoulders. //"Yeah, honey. Let's go home." — oh the casual affection of it!! My tender heart can’t take it!!

As usual, your prose and smut makes me want to drive off a cliff thema&louise style 💁🏼‍♀️ this sent me in a tizzy and I’m obsessed with every bit of it! (Formal petition for Emma and Harrison 2.0 feat. his thigh 🫶🏻 kbyeeee)

dip you in honey (so i could be sticking to you)

synopsis: harrison drinks honey lattes and has big hands.

pairing: harrison knott x emma coves (oc)

warnings: 18+, minors and ageless blogs dni, swearing, explicit smut (semi-public sex – in the back of a coffee shop, which is probably some sort of health and safety violation; harrison also eats it from the back; dirty talk and praise and overuse of pet names and all that good stuff because it's him) (wc: 3K)

note: i named the fic after daylight by harry styles, and i named emma after chateau lobby #4 by father john misty because "you left a note in your perfect script, stay as long as you want, and i haven't left you bed since" is such a harrison coded lyric. enjoy! 💛

Golden sunlight follows after him as Harrison ducks into Bluebird Coffee, his presence announced by the little gold bell that hangs above the door, a joyful chime.

Emma watches him make his way to the counter with her balled fists shoved in the pockets of her robin's egg blue apron, one of the many spots of bright color in the small, color-packed space. A string of incandescent bulbs glow above her head – as cheery and bright as the wide smile that fills Emma's freckled face at the sight of her boyfriend.

He looks good, so good.

A half-a-size-too-small shirt stretches deliciously snug across his broad shoulders and wide abdomen – across muscles firmed by years of surfing and heavy lifting. It's an ocean blue that makes his pretty blue eyes shine and gleam, like bursts of sunshine, dancing on a building wave.

He looks so good, in fact that Emma almost forgets to be surprised to see him.

Her dark brows dip ever-so-slightly as Emma peers up at him with a shy smile. "Hey you. Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

He works down the street at Lost and Found – an eclectic record store that somehow always manages to have rare pressings of her favorite records.

Emma had just started working at Bluebird when Harrison started coming in – and later, Harrison admitted to spotting her in the window and wanting an excuse to talk to her. She remembered him and his order almost immediately: the cute and charming regular with the ocean blue eyes who always orders a Red Eye and chokes it down at the counter like a man in severe pain.

After a while, Emma took pity on him.

She convinced him to expand his horizons and move him away from his usual Red Eye  – a brewed coffee with a shot of espresso, basically a panic attack in a cup, Emma gently explained to him – and you know... drink coffee he’d actually like.

Lately, Harrison's been partial to a honey latte.

He loves to order them in this one particular way.

"Can I get a honey latte from my honey?" Harrison asks with a lopsided grin, nacho levels of cheese in his deep voice. He's so... stupid and adorable, and Emma's so damn fond of him.

She makes a big show of her rolling her brown eyes, but really, she adores him, and Harrison damn well knows it.

Grabbing a wide-mouth jar from the row of clean glasses and multi-colored pastel mugs, Emma gets to work.

It's a ritual Emma knows well. Two shots of espresso. One cup of oat milk. Two heaping tablespoons of honey because after years of consuming coffee purely for the caffeine, Harrison likes his drinks on the sweeter side now.

She fills the glass with ice, pours in the milk and espresso respectively, and gives it a quick dusting of cinnamon for a pinch of something extra.

She slides it across the counter with a smile and bends forward to lean on her elbows, resting her chin on her bridged fingers and looking up at him through her dark lashes.

"Thanks, Em," Harrison says warmly, fondly.

Her boss usually isn't in on the weekends, but just in case, Emma looks around for her, craning her neck and checking her corners. She doesn't see her anymore so Emma dares to sit on the edge of the counter and dash a quick kiss across Harrison's lips.

He tastes like sea salt and sunscreen and honey.

His lips part in a smile. A warm, radiant smile that warms her down to her toes and makes her feel like Emma's been down at the beach, laying in the sun for hours, and not in the AC-chilled shop since the crack of dawn.

"What're you doing here?" Emma asks him with a grin. She can still feel the pleasant scrape of his stubble on her chin. "Taking a break?"

He is still smiling, lip pulled between his teeth. "A storm's coming so Cooper's closing the shop at noon, and I didn't want my girl biking home in the rain." My girl. Her grin is stupid wide. "Thought I'd hang here and watch you work and drive you home after your shift." A hint of mischief quirks the edge of his lip. "Unless I'll be distracting?"

"You?" Emma feigns shock. "Distracting? Never."

Smiling to herself, Emma goes back to the register to help the customer who is coming in, and Harrison finds an empty stool at the counter to drink his coffee.

But damn, Harrison really is distracting.

She can feel his flame blue eyes on her, burning hot, and – when she reaches up to grab more coffee grounds from one of the high shelves – on the hem of her dress, sliding up the backs of her legs.

She's wearing shorts underneath, but god, Harrison's smoldering attention makes her kind of wish she wasn't wearing anything at all underneath.

So okay, Emma's a little distracted. But really, it's fine.

She breaks one of the for-here mugs and sloshes almond milk all over the edge of the counter and onto the floor because Harrison is here with his big biceps and his broad, freckled shoulders and his knowing smile and his slutty gold chain.

And god, all Emma can think about is this morning when Harrison woke her up with his head between her legs, pressing an enthusiastic trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses across the insides of her thighs, mouthing messily at the dampening fabric of her panties until her searching fingers found their way into his silky hair with a breathy, half-awake moan.

God, Harrison, please, Harrison, oh-oh-oh my god...

He pulled her spit-soaked panties down to her knees and worked her open with his clever mouth and his big fingers and wouldn't let her have his beautiful cock until Emma begged him.

Please, Harrison, please, I need it, ah-oh, need you, need...

"There. That's better, isn't it, honey?" Harrison cooed against her shoulder, pushing into her from behind, his grip on her hips just shy of bruising. He was so big, stretching her around him, so gorgeous, moving slowly so Emma could get used to his size.

He was pressed to her back, warm and absolutely everywhere, and sweat dotted her brow, beading and running down the side of her neck. He's always so much, so good.

He seized her hair with one hand and tugged her head to the side, licking a stripe up the side of her neck, licking the sweat from her skin. "God, honey, you're dripping all over my cock, absolutely soaking." He rolled his hips, moved slow slow slow. "That feel good, honey? You're taking it so well, baby..."

Iced coffee runs over and spills over the sides of the glass and down the back of her hand, shocking her from the daydream, and Emma swears under her breath. She wipes the puddle from the counter with a wad of paper towels and presses the back of her clean hand to her forehead.

Jesus. Is it warm in here?

She feels warm.

And also sticky.

It's fine.

Her fourth alarm – or the back-up-to-the-back-up alarm – rang as Emma was about to fall over the precipice Harrison was painstakingly working her toward with his hand between her legs, all but folding her in half on the mattress.

And Emma had to shower and go to work before Harrison could make good on his promise to make her come around his cock, but it's... fine.

Harrison drums his fingers on the sunshine yellow counter and noticing her eyes on him, gives her a long and borderline inappropriate-for-public once-over. He ends his appraisal with a cheeky smile, crinkled blue eyes glimmering knowingly.

It's really so fine.

Her shift passes agonizingly slowly, and by the time Harrison follows her into the back at a quarter-after-one, Emma's coming out of her skin. She is fidgeting endlessly, running the sun-shaped charm on her gold necklace up and down the length of the chain, gathering her shoulder-length dark curls one-handed against her nape and letting them down again.

"Which locker's yours?" Harrison asks conversationally.

But Emma's so done with conversations.

Ignoring the question, Emma grabs the collar of his shirt with both hands and pushes him into the nearest locker and kisses him.

She catches the corner of his mouth more than anything else, an inelegant mash of lips and stubble, because she caught him off guard and he's so damn tall that he really needs to bend down to meet her, but it doesn't really matter; she just needs to be closer to him.

His big arms wrap around her, lifting her onto her tiptoes, as Harrison deepens the kiss and swallows the half-moan that escapes her mouth. She'd probably be embarrassed except Emma's so fucking wound up that Harrison could probably rock her down on his broad thigh and make her explode.

"Someone missed me," Harrison croons, pulling back with his hand on the front of her neck, his broad fingers spread wide. "It's only been a few hours, honey."

He grins, and god, Harrison really is so handsome, big and strong, strands of sun-kissed hair curling at the ends, cheeks ruddy from sun and laughter. His eyes darken as Harrison really drinks her in.

And what a sight she must be, practically drooling over him, needing him so badly, so desperately.

"Fuck me," she whispers against his mouth, voice husky, and Harrison shudders, practically crushing her against his hard abdomen.

"Here?" Harrison asks, a mix of disbelieving and unbelievably turned on. "Don't you want to go home?"

It's so cute of him to ask – so scandalized, as if Harrison hasn't fucked her on the beach multiple times by now, laying her out under a blanket of stars on the longest night of the year.

She kisses up his neck, his strong neck, nibbling at the constellation of freckles and beauty marks on his tan skin. Licks the next words against his hammering pulse, against the width of his shoulder. "I can't wait, baby, I need you right now. I'm so fucking wet for you, Harrison, please."

"Jesus," Harrison groans.

A large hand presses in between her shoulder blades, bringing her closer, bending her into him, and Harrison's leg slides in between hers, pushing at the hem of her dress.

He makes quick work of the apron around her waist, crumpling it into a ball and flinging it away from them without looking. She'll need to look for it later, but right now, Emma doesn't care because Harrison is running his hands over the soft fabric of her dress, over the curve of her hips, palms hot and burning like an iron.

"Is this dress new?" Harrison asks, so casual, so patient. "I haven't seen it before."

God. He can be such a fucking tease sometimes.

"Who cares about the dress?" Emma snaps.

He only chuckles, a low and gravelly sound, rich like good coffee. "Don't be impatient, honey."

He reserves their positions so Harrison can press her against the locker. His rough palm slowly slides up her leg, lingering on her ass, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp, until Harrison is cupping her through the spandex shorts. Her head drops back against the metal with a dull clang.

"Ow," Emma breathes, more surprised than in pain.

He pauses immediately and asks, "You okay?"

"Mhm," she hums, not trusting herself to form real words right now, and he presses a tender kiss against her temple and works his way over to her ear.

“You’re soaked, honey. I can feel it through the shorts,” Harrison murmurs, hot against her ear. A purposeful flex of his fingers makes her whimper, pressing in the exact right spots through the layers of fabric, and Emma rocks into his hand. "Oh, baby..." He sighs into her hair, stirring the curls. "You need it so bad, don't you?"

She nods, biting her lip so hard it almost hurts to hold back a loud moan.

Finally, Harrison slips his hand down the front of her shorts.

She holds onto his arm, sunflower yellow nails digging in, leaving half-moon circles in his skin, but Harrison doesn't seem to mind. He works his way underneath the scrap of lace, the only thing left between him and her dripping core.

One finger slips inside of her easily, and Emma can actually hear how wet she is. She grows warm, and Harrison swears again. "How's that, honey? That enough for you?"

Of course not, she wants to scream.

He knows the answer, but of course, Harrison wants to hear her say it out loud.

She grips his nape with one hand, running her fingers through his hair, mouth gaping open. "Another, please, Harrison, please."

He always likes that word, please.

Harrison adds another. And another.

He curls his fingers into her, swearing under his breath, murmuring sweet and filthy nothings about god, you're so wet for me, so responsive, baby, fucking perfect and all for me, my sweet and perfect girl.

He knocks her legs wider, pushing his strong thigh between hers again, knocking her off balance, and it's enough that Emma needs to lean into him even more. He's practically holding her up now, practically pinning her up against the locker, shielding her completely, just in case.

"God, I must be the luckiest man alive. You're so sweet, so wet for me, soaking my hand, honey," Harrison praises.

His wide palm grinds against her clit, sending a whole firework show's worth of sparks across her skin. A familiar feeling starts to wash over her, a kind of weightlessness, like Emma's floating on her back in the ocean.

"Such a needy little thing. You couldn't even wait for us to be alone, be home? Y'needed my fingers filling this needy pussy as soon as possible, didn't you?"

He doesn't need an answer, but still, Emma nods mindlessly, makes a kind of half-audible ye–holy shit–ah noise. She needs him to keep going, needs it like air.

His chest rumbles with a satisfied sound. "Don't worry, honey, I'll make it all better."

Moisture gathers in her eyes and streams from the corners, smearing her mascara, and Emma buries her face in his solid shoulder, looking for something to ground her. She inhales deep lungfuls of his familiar scent, citrus and sea salt and musk, breathing in the smell of the ocean that somehow always seems to cling to his clothes, to his skin.

Her mouth falls open in a muffled moan, which is mercifully drown out by the upbeat pop music her coworker Adrienne put on for the afternoon crowd.

Emma's never been more grateful for the downfall of One Direction and the subsequent launch of Harry Styles's solo career than in this exact moment. Thank fucking god.

Watching the door carefully, Harrison cradles the back of her head in the crook of his bulging arm, holding her close, and pumps his fingers in and out of her with obscenely wet sounds.

"Look at me," Harrison says. A gentle order.

Head swimming, Emma lifts her chin, eyes glazed over, and Harrison leans down and devours in her mouth in a ferocious and enthusiastic kiss.

His fingers work harder, rubbing her harder and faster, coaxing her over the edge. And when Emma whines against his mouth, so close, Harrison grows rougher in his ministrations, pinching at her clit with two fingers and not letting up as Emma goes off all over his hand, lips sealed against his, crying into his mouth.

He doesn't let up until Emma's sagging in his arms, shaking and over-sensitive.

A rosy pink flush spreads across his collarbone and up his neck as Harrison pulls his fingers out of her with a pornographic squelching sound.

His eyes are bright as Harrison looks down at her, gaze flicking between her glassy eyes and her mouth, kiss swollen. His voice comes out a little gravelly, a little hoarse, a little strained. "Was that good?"

A blissful nod, and Harrison's lips curve into a smirk.

"Good because I'm not done with you quite yet. Turn around."

Emma blinks at him, still dazed, and asks dumbly. "What?"

"Turn around," Harrison repeats, regarding her with half-lidded eyes, "so I can get on my knees and clean up the mess you've made of those pretty little panties with my tongue."

A shiver runs down her spine as Emma's brain catches up with his words. She faces the locker and rests her forehead on the cool metal and breathes.

"Stay real quiet for me, honey," is all he says before he drops to his knees and lifts her dress. "Can you hold this up for me?" She white-knuckles the fabric. "Good girl."

He peels off her shorts, then her soaked panties, slipping them into his pocket.

And hell, Emma really does want to stay quiet for him, but Harrison bends her forward ever-so-slightly and audibly groans at the sight of her. He parts her cunt with his fingers and leans in, licking into her with enthusiastic and searching strokes of his eager tongue, living up to his promise of licking her clean.

He grips her ass with both hands and spreads her even wider and when Harrison presses into her to circle her clit with his tongue, Emma's done for.

She slaps a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound of his name, shaking against his face and sagging forward, practically boneless.

He slowly stands and wipes his hand over his dripping chin and sucks his shining fingers – sticky like honey – into his mouth with a satisfied hum, deep in his chest, and hooks his hand around her jaw to pull her into a kiss.

She licks into his mouth. Licks her taste from his lips, relishing in his deep groan, seeing stars.

Half-slurred, Emma asks, "D'you want to go home now?"

She could use a nap – or four.

Harrison drops a wet, grinning kiss on her cheek and pulls her into his side, his arm over her shoulders.

"Yeah, honey. Let's go home."

note: you know what else is harrison coded? eating it from the back. okay bye!

tagging a few mutuals and people who interacted with my posts about the fic and also harrison lovers (my boyfriend, real): @sometimesanalice @theharddeck @callsignspark @bradshawsbaby @withahappyrefrain @ryebecca @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @attapullman @sebsxphia