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freedomfireflies · 5 months ago

Text

You Again*

Summary: The one where Harry is your sister's ex-boyfriend and you finally get to see him again after 5 years.

Word Count: 11.4k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, age gap (6 years), sir kink, choking, use of a toy, exhibitionism if you squint!

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Your eyes widen as you look up toward the man making his way into the diner. You'd recognize him anywhere. The dark curly hair. The tattoos that bleed through the fabric of his light shirt. The rings on his fingers.

Just like that, years' worth of memories come flooding back to you all at once.

"Harry," you shriek, sliding off the stool before practically flinging yourself into his arms.

He smells exactly the same. Like teakwood and spearmint. A rather odd mix, yet subtle enough to remind you of home.

Of him.

His chest vibrates with a deep laugh as his arms wrap around your frame to keep you against him, prolonging the hug a minute or two longer than socially acceptable.

And when you finally lean back to see him, your cheeks begin to warm.

It's been...four years? Five? Since you last saw him? Just days before he and your sister broke up, effectively removing him from your life for good.

It had been a hard time. You wanted to be there for your sister. To comfort her through the grief of losing such a long and meaningful relationship.

But you wanted to be there for him, too. After all, he was one of your best friends, age difference or not. He had always been the comforting, influential figure in your life that you relied on. That you counted on to get through different hardships in your life.

He had picked you up after your first day at your new job. Had held you in his arms as you cried over your first break-up. He had even listened to you talk about the boy you had fallen in love with.

Losing him felt like losing a part of yourself.

And now, five years later...that part of you has come home.

"Hi, Dot," he beams, reaching out to take hold of your chin and squeeze. "Shit, look at you. When did this happen?"

His eyes rake over your figure and you feel your skin grown hot under his appreciative gaze. "Stop, it hasn't been that long."

"The last time I saw you, I was helping you move into your new apartment across town,” he recalls, arms crossing in thought. "And now...now what? You’re still at your job, I assume?"

"I am. I just got a promotion, actually. I’m an assistant editor now.”

His eyes seem to light up, that soft green sending chills up the back of your neck as you glance down at your feet. "Dot...that's amazing. I'm so proud of you."

You wave the compliment away. "Thanks."

"Really," he insists before following you back to the counter where you'd previously been sitting. "I know how badly you wanted to pursue a career in publishing, and this...this is really amazing. Do you like it?"

"I do," you tell him as you settle back onto your stool. "Yeah, it's really nice. The people are great, the work is fun. Plus, the promotion came with a raise."

"That's amazing," he sighs, head shaking like he can't believe it. "Really, that's so...I honestly can't believe it. I can't believe it’s been so long. You’re so…adult now.”

You snort to yourself as you twirl your straw around your milkshake. "Yeah, I know. Though I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not.”

"You should." He smiles, and it's big and beautiful. "You’ve always been grown up. Even before, you were mature for your age.”

“Well…yeah. I was twenty-three. That does make me an adult.”

“And now you’re twenty-eight.” He shakes his head again. “I can’t fucking believe it.”

You glance down at the rim of your glass. He’s right, it almost doesn’t seem possible. It feels like only last week that you were following him and your sister around town, begging to be included. Traipsing after them to bars, the mini golf course, and to any and all dates. Even though you knew your sister couldn’t stand it.

But Harry was nice and always inclusive. After all, he was your friend before he was your sister’s boyfriend. And he was determined to make sure that didn’t change, no matter how many times Atta rolled her eyes.

"I don't know how you put up with me," you finally admit. "God, I was so annoying. Atta used to get so mad at me for never leaving you alone."

He shrugs one shoulder up. "You weren't annoying to me. I liked it. I mean, I liked that you still felt so...safe? Around me? I guess?"

"Yeah, I did.” You smile. “Honestly, I think you were my best friend.”

He laughs as he looks back over. "I better have been.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Cause you were mine.”

"Good."

He smirks. "Remember how you used to fall asleep on my shoulder every time we watched a movie?”

"That's right," you groan, burying your face into the palm of your hand. "See? Annoying."

"Not annoying. Cute."

"It was not cute, it was annoying. And you know she hated it.”

“I don’t care. She fell asleep on my shoulder, too. It was nice.”

You snort. “It was weird, let’s face it. But I swear I've outgrown such habits."

He seems to hesitate for only a moment, eyes flicking between yours. "Too bad."

A beat.

You feel your stomach flip as you look away, breaking you both free of the tension. "So...what, um...what brings you to town? I was a little surprised to hear from you."

He takes the cup of coffee the waitress had poured him and slides it closer. "Oh, yeah, I'm...I'm here on business. And I remembered you lived here, so...I thought I’d reach out.”

"I see."

"Yeah.” He hesitates again. "And...I missed you."

You can’t fight the flutter in your chest. "I missed you, too, Har."

The conversation lulls as the busy diner continues to bustle around you. And despite how glad you are to see him, something feels...off. Different.

You aren't sure what. Can't quite put your finger on it. It almost feels like it used to, but something has changed. He looks like your Harry. He sounds like your Harry. He feels like your Harry. And yet, he feels like a stranger.

Maybe it's because it's been so long since you've seen him. Maybe it's because you aren't twenty-three anymore. Or maybe it’s because now he’s no longer Harry, your sister’s boyfriend.

Now he’s just…Harry. Your old friend.

When you notice the way he’s staring, your eyes narrow. “What?”

"Nothing." He shrugs again before chuckling under his breath. "No, nothing. Sorry, I just...I don't know. It's just...so strange to see you again. Like this."

"Like...this?"

"Yeah. Just us. Alone. No Atta.”

“Ah.” You swallow. “Right.”

“It’s not…weird, is it? I mean, it is weird but it’s not…uncomfortable, right?”

“No,” you rush to assure him. “No, I wanted to meet you. What happened with you two has nothing to do with me.”

He glances down at his lap. “Right.”

There’s an edge to the memory that wasn’t there before, yet despite your curiosity, you bite your tongue.

“What about you?” you say instead. “What have you been up to in the last five years?”

He smirks. “Oh, not much.”

“Uh-huh. You think I’ve grown up, you’re basically an old man now.”

“Yeah, yeah, all right. I’m only 34.”

“That’s still six years older than me, which makes you old.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m serious. You're not that idiot on a motorcycle anymore. Now you say things like, 'I'm in town on business,” and you wear expensive suits, and ridiculous watches."

He glances down at the aforementioned object on his wrist. "In my defense, this was a gift.”

“Sure.”

“It was,” he insists. His eyes flick over your face. “Look, I would have reached out sooner, but…after we broke up, I figured you wouldn’t want me to. I mean, you had just started your new job, and I knew it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to be a side, so…”

“There were no sides,” you argue softly. “You both just…grew apart. You wanted different things.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a sigh. “But I know it hurt her. It hurt me, too. And it was weird having to say goodbye to all of you. And leave all those memories behind. You were both such a huge part of my life."

"Yeah," you whisper. "You were a huge part of mine, too."

"Does Atta know you're meeting me?"

"No. Didn't really think it was any of her business. This is about us, not her."

His brow raises. "Would she be mad if she did?"

"I don't know,” you admit. “Probably not, but...would it really matter?"

"Of course it would. I'd never want to get in the way of your relationship."

"You aren't," you insist. "Look, she's dating somebody anyway. And I'm sure you are, too. You've both moved on. We're just...old friends catching up, and she'd have to understand that."

He seems to consider this before saying, "Yeah. I'm not, though."

"You're not...what?"

"Seeing anybody," he clarifies, tongue coming out to swipe across his bottom lip. "Haven't really dated anybody since she and I broke up."

"Oh, Harry," you murmur. "I'm...I'm sorry—"

"No. No, don't be," he insists. "It wasn't...I've just been busy. Working at the firm and renovating my house. I've gone on some dates but nothing serious. I just...haven't met the right person, I guess."

"The right person, huh?" you muse teasingly as you take a sip of your drink. "Okay, and what does Harry Styles' right person look like?"

He exhales an amused chuckle. "God, I don't know. I don't really think I'm that picky. Just...anybody I can get along with, I suppose."

"That's it? No, 'They need a fat ass and the ability to make me a sandwich?'"

He grins so big, the corners of his eyes crinkle. "For fuck's sake. No, nothing like that. Look, I don't know. Call me old fashioned, but...I think sometimes you meet somebody, and you can just...tell. You know? There's this energy, this shift. You look at them...and it all just makes sense.”

And as he looks you, waiting for you to consider this…the air shifts.

"Yeah," you agree quietly, allowing your attention to fall down his features and land on his lips. "Yeah, that's...you're right."

He seems to notice the way your focus has wandered because he quickly clears his throat and looks back down at his mug. "What, um...what about you? I'm assuming you're seeing somebody."

You look away as well, willing yourself to calm. "Oh? And why do you assume that?"

"Come on," he nearly snorts, eyebrow cocking. "Look at you. You're beautiful and you're smart and you have this effortless ability to make anyone around you feel good. Who wouldn't want to date you?"

"Well...pretty much every male in the city," you retort. "I don't know. I've tried dating but...there's always something missing. It never really feels quite right."

"Yeah. I know what you mean," he hums. "There's this...disconnect. Like you're forcing something that you know isn't right."

"Exactly! It's not that I don't want to find somebody, I just...haven't. It's not as easy as it is with you."

His head tilts. "With me?"

"Yeah, you know," you sigh, hands waving about the air as you try to explain your point. "I haven't seen you in five years but we still, just...picked right back up, you know? As if no time had passed. We're still just us. We can talk, and we can laugh, and we don't have to force anything."

He nods. "Right."

"I mean, honestly? Sometimes I think it would be easier to date somebody I already know. The problem is that all the guys I know are assholes. And too immature, I guess. They've got no sense of purpose, no drive. And it’s not like I need to be taken care of, but…it’d be nice to know they could. You know?”

"Yeah. You need someone with a good head on their shoulders."

"Exactly. I need someone who feels more like an equal than this thing I need to take care. I want to date a man, not a Tamagotchi."

He laughs again and the sound brings the butterflies back to your stomach. You feel proud to have amused him. And even more proud of the way he casually places a hand on your arm as he takes a deep breath.

When he lets go, you look down at the spot on your skin as if you can still see outline of his fingers.

"You'll find somebody," he tells you, and you do your best to ignore the sparks dancing up the back of your neck. "You will. And they'll be perfect for you. Old enough to know better and wise enough to do it right."

You place your palm over the spot he once touched, squeezing it gently. "Yeah. Hey, and you, too. Anybody would be lucky to have you."

His eyes linger on yours. "Yeah?"

You smile. "Yeah."

The next few minutes are devoted to sharing stories about your families. He asks how your parents are, you ask about his. He tells you about his job and you tell him about your roommate. You recall every detail of the past five years, and once you've finally caught up to today, he pays for your drinks, and offers to walk you home.

You make your way along the busy streets of the city as Harry tells you that he's thinking about getting a cat. You laugh and tell him that he'd make a wonderful cat dad, and he seems to flush.

You wonder why.

Fifteen minutes later, you're walking up the steps to your building, already apologizing for the messy state of your apartment before he's even stepped foot inside.

He snorts the implication away, assuring you that no matter what, it can't be worse than how Atta used to keep her place.

And the mention of your sister breeds an odd feeling in your chest. Unease, and this strange tinge of jealousy. Like you're almost peeved at him for bringing her up. For reminding you that he's seen the inside of her room before.

But you shake it away as you push the door open, refusing to linger on the thought.

"Well...this is it," you declare, stepping aside to let him enter. "Probably looks smaller than you remember, but…it does the trick.”

He takes a moment to glance over your knickknacks and decor before he grins. “I love it.”

"Really?"

"Yeah." He shoves his hands into his expensive coat pockets and nods. "Yeah, really. It feels...fitting."

"What do you mean?"

"I don’t know. It just feels like you.”

Your teeth gnaw on the inside of your cheek as you walk to the kitchen. "Well...thanks. I think."

You offer him a glass of water, to which he declines, before you join him back by the door. You're not sure that you’re quite ready to say goodbye, but you know he can't stay forever.

You wonder if you actually want him to.

You wonder if it would be so bad if you did.

"This was…really nice," he says as he takes a half-step through the doorframe. "Really, Dot. I'm proud of you. And everything you’ve done. And I'm really glad that I can still call you my friend after everything."

Your heart starts to pound a little harder inside your chest. "Yeah, me too. I really missed you, Har. I hope we can catch up again soon."

The side of his mouth curls up as his eyes soften. "I'd like that."

With that, he moves into the hall, and you close the door behind him.

The feeling that follows is...strange. Overwhelming. Like something is wrong. Like something has just been ripped away from you.

Like something is missing.

You feel on edge. Off-balance. Confused and unsure and you have no idea why. There’s a pain in your stomach that wasn’t there before and a hollowness in your heart that didn’t exist before you saw him.

Suddenly, there's a sharp knock on your door. "Dot?"

He's back.

Confused and slightly excited, you swing it back open to find him braced against your frame. He’s quiet as he studies you, brows woven together in what appears to be deep thought before he strides back inside your apartment and begins to pace your floor.

"Okay," he begins. Strained. "Okay, tell me...tell me this isn't just me. Tell me this isn't just in my head."

You shut the door. "What do you mean?”

He looks at you before frantically gesturing between your two bodies. "This. This thing we’ve been doing all afternoon. Tell me it's not just me. Tell me you feel it.”

And you're almost certain you know what he means, but the implication of it scares the shit out of you.

So, you simply tilt your head. "Har...feel what? I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Us.” He stares at you. “Us, there's something...there's something different here. Something that wasn't here before."

"Like...?"

"Like...like the way you look at me," he says, eyes on yours as you feel your heart begin to race. "You never used to look at me that way."

Your lashes flutter, and suddenly, you feel acutely aware of the way you've begun to gawk at him. Have you been looking at him differently?

"And the way you speak to me," he continues. "Talking about needing someone to take care of you. Someone older. Someone...more mature."

You swallow.

He takes a step closer. "And all day, you've just...you’ve found a way to brush your hand against mine. Or your arm. And you laugh at everything I say, even when it isn't funny. And I know you. I know this can't be what I think it is, but...you gotta tell me I'm not going crazy. You have to tell me it's not just...me."

And you realize now that you have an easy way out. You could brush off the accusation and tell him that it is just in his head. That he's your sister's ex-boyfriend, and he's your friend, and that you would never make a pass at him.

But then you say, "…what if it wasn't just you?"

He goes still, lips parting as he leans back. Almost as if struggling to understand what you've just said.

Truth be told, you're struggling to understand it yourself. You hadn't realized just how differently you'd been acting toward him. Or that you’d begun to wonder what would happen if he was your Harry instead of hers.

Because he’s not hers anymore. He’s just a man. A very attractive man. With a job, and a house, and enough emotional maturity not to make a fart joke every three minutes.

And it's not your fault that you're starting to see him in a different light. It's been years. Five whole years since you've spoken to him and you're both adults now. Completely different people, and would it really be the worst thing if you wondered what could have been?

"Dot…" he begins slowly, clearly wrestling with what he wants to say, "…you don't…I don't think you really know what you're doing."

You take a step as well, challenging him. "What am I doing?"

"You're...you're—" His fingers find the bridge of his nose as he squeezes. Hard. "Fuck, Dot. Don't…don't do this—"

"Do what? Flirt with you?"

His palms fly to his ears with a wince. "Stop. No, you didn't...you didn't say that. You're not flirting with me. You're not flirting with me—"

"What if I am?" you retort, following after him with a surge of confidence you didn’t realize you had. "Why would that be so wrong?"

"Because,” he scoffs, shooting a stern look your way. "You’re Atta’s little sister. And we’re friends. And you’re basically a child—"

"I'm not a child," you remind him. "I'm twenty-eight. I've been making capable decisions for quite some time now—"

"But not this," he hisses, the muscles in his neck straining. "Not…shit. You can't do this. You can't—”

"Why not? You said it yourself, there's something different here—"

"But not this—"

"Why not?"

"Because…you're you," he huffs. "You're...you're my best friend, and my ex’s little sister, and I’m…I’m just this big, bad man come to ruin you.”

And somehow, the idea goes straight to your cunt.

"You're not ruining me, Harry," you say, even though you wish he would. "We’re adults. Old friends catching up and realizing that maybe things can be different now."

He takes in a breath. "But they can't be. They can't be different—"

"Why—"

"Because it's not right—"

"What's not right? What?" you argue. "Is it just the age difference? Is it Atta? Is it that you aren't attracted to me, because I know you were flirting with me, too—"

His entire face twists into a grimace as he inhales sharply and presses his hands back over his ears. "God. Don't say that—"

"You were," you insist. "Like it or not, I'm not the little girl you used to know. All right, and there's...there's nothing wrong with us testing the waters—"

He steels himself, arms dropping back to his sides. "We can't."

"Why?" you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. "Why can't we? Huh? We're not breaking any rules. We're not doing anything illegal. I don't see what's so wrong with just trying—"

"I'd ruin you," he says again, with so much conviction that it makes your stomach drop. "I would ruin any chance you had at a normal relationship—a normal life. All right, being with me...it would complicate everything. And I'd never do that to you—"

"I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm just asking you to try—"

"Try what?"

"Try seeing." You take another step, making sure you have his full attention. "Just…try seeing if what we think is here is actually here. If maybe we were meant to find each other again after all this time. If this is where it all finally makes sense."

He considers this for a moment. Considers you. And you aren't sure when you suddenly became so enamored by the thought of Harry, but you’re here now. And he’s here. And there’s a shift.

And it feels right.

Then, his head begins to shake. "No. No, I know better. I have to know better. I have to do better than this. I can't...God, I can't believe I'm even...no. No, you mean too much to me for me to ruin this."

You feel your chest deflate as your lips press into a thin line. And you stare at him. You stare and you see the indecision and anguish on his face. You see the way he wrestles with the idea you've given him. The way he wrestles with himself.

The way he wrestles with you.

You don't want to push him. Because you know this is something you can never take back. And maybe there's just too much adrenaline in your veins right now. Maybe you aren't thinking straight, and once he leaves and the moment passes, you’ll wonder what you were so worked up about anyway.

But right now, all you feel is disappointment.

"Fine," you whisper, and his eyes soften. "No, fine. You're right. You're right, this is...I never should have said anything. I was…confused. I was just happy to see you again and I thought it was something else, but…you're right. It's nothing. And I don't wanna be your mid-life crisis. I just want us to be friends again.”

Your tiny apartment falls silent as you both settle onto this conclusion. As you let your heartbreak dangle in the air.

Then, his fingers between to flex and his teeth begin to grit, and watch in real time as he starts to change his mind.

Then, he murmurs, “Oh, fuck it.”

Next thing you know, he's closing the gap between you, taking hold of your face and kissing you hard.

You don’t have time to process it. Don’t even care to process it. But you don’t care. Because everything makes sense now.

So, you feel him. Surrender to him. Indulge in the dominate pull of his hands on your jaw as he takes a taste of you on his tongue. As he presses his hips so hard into yours that you feel your knees go weak.

You make a noise in your throat as he goes deeper, and he growls. Like he's fighting himself. Fighting the urge to take as he begins roughly walking you back until you’re slammed against the wall.

He knows exactly what he's doing in a way that younger men never have. He makes you feel both taken care of and somehow, still completely helpless. You don't have to think about anything with him because he does everything.

He presses his strong, tall frame into yours until he practically disappears into you. His large hand grips onto the back of your neck as you whimper, taking control of the moment—of you—until the only thought left in your head is just more.

And you don't doubt that he'd give you more if you asked, but before you can, he pulls back, and puts the moment on pause.

You feel breathless. Dejected. Wilting in his hold as he meets your eye and looks for your reaction.

But he won’t find it. And you bite back a whine as you wait for him to come back.

He sweeps his thumbs along your cheek before sighing to himself. "Dot..."

You feel your stomach turn at the nickname. At the way it comes out raspy and desperate. "Don’t say it."

But he does, anyway. "We shouldn't do this."

"I know," you murmur, fingers disappearing into his hair while he seems to nestle into your touch. "I know, but I want to. I want to, Har. So…please don’t make me lose you again.”

Another beat passes before he groans and presses his forehead to yours. “God,” he nearly growls, and the sound makes your thighs squeeze together. “Dot—”

"I won't tell," you promise while his jaw clenches. "I won't, I swear. I'll be your secret."

Just like that, the hand he placed on your thigh tightens. Squeezing until you're squirming beneath him. He’s losing his conviction and you’re losing your patience.

"This is wrong," he mumbles. "S'wrong, Dot. I can't do this to you. Can't do this with you...I can't...I know better. I have to do better.”

You tug on his hair as you straighten up, whining beneath a strained breath. "I don’t want you to do better. I want you to do me.”

He exhales deeply with this, nose running down the side of your face as his lips travel to your neck. He seems to take refuge there, subtly pressing kisses to your throat as he thinks. "I want to," he tells you softly. "You have no idea how badly I want to. How badly I want to do everything for you. Show you how a real man fucks. Until you see stars.”

"Har," you just about gasp, anxious to have him do just that. "Please...please—"

"Fuck." His thigh slots between the both of yours and you writhe against him, searching for anything you might find. "Be so easy to take you. Be so easy to show you what you're missing. To wreck you until you’re begging for more—"

"So do it," you plead, pulling on him until his mouth meets yours. "Do it, Har. Please. Just once. Just once, and I promise I'll be so good. Be so good for you. Won't ever ask you again—"

His hold on you grows more determined before he's ripping you away from the wall and slinging you toward your bed a few feet away.

He’s on you in seconds, hovering about where you lie as you greedily grab for him. "Promise me," he hisses as his palm slips beneath your shirt, and a needy whimper bleeds from your throat. "Promise me that this is what you want."

"I promise," you repeat quickly, arching into his touch. "Promise—"

"Promise me...that you'll be good," he says next, fingers brushing over the material of your bra. "That you'll behave. That you'll do exactly what I tell you."

"Yes," you breathe, eyes falling shut.

"Fucking promise me..." he continues as he scratches down your chest, "...that you won't tell. That you'll be my dirty little secret. That you'll be mine. That you'll let me ruin you and that you'll fucking thank me for doing it—"

The last domino falls. Crashes to the ground as you tug him down to you so you can kiss him. So, you can prove your loyalty. Prove that this is everything you’ve ever wanted.

You feel him smile.

"You little fucking minx,” he purrs.

Your skin warms as Harry's stunned but unceasingly enthralled gaze lingers on the red lace of your underwear. However, his fingers move instead for your hips. His hauntingly empty touch ghosting across the fabric of your underwear as you anxiously await contact.

But he doesn't give it to you. Not quite, not yet. He just wants to look at you. Wants to drink you in. Allow himself the privilege of seeing what he never has before.

"Did you wear these just for me, little one?" he asks in a gravely drawl, eyes flicking up to yours from where he lays between your thighs.

You swallow as you look across your stomach at him. You're not sure why you picked out this particular set today. Perhaps it was a subconscious choice or perhaps destiny was simply on your side.

"Maybe," you murmur, nails curling into your palm as you work in shallow breaths. God, you need him to touch you. Need him to do something about the mess that's sitting two inches in front of his face.

The very same mess he's pretending he doesn't notice.

Your response encourages a smirk as he hums and glances back down at the little white bow placed delicately in the center. "S'cute, Dot," he says softly, pinching the ribbon between his thumb and forefinger. "Fucking precious, actually. Knowing you got yourself all dolled up. Just to see me."

He pulls his lip between his teeth and glances back over your face. He's amused by the weary and desperate expression you wear and you're two seconds away from groaning.

His touch moves down. Down, down, down until the pad of his finger brushes over your clit.

You tense before releasing a shaky exhale.

Satisfied with this reaction, he moves even lower. Until he finds that growing wet patch that's beginning to hurt.

"What's this?" he coos, looking down toward the darkened red fabric. "Oh, darling...s'this for me, too?"

You're not sure where your quippy attitude from before has gone because now you can do nothing but nod mutely as you shift beneath his hand.

"Yeah?" His eyebrow raises as he grins at you. "Is this what has you so anxious?"

You give him another nod.

He hums. "Think I need to see for myself, hm?" He smirks and pats his palms against your hips. "Take these off for me."

You quickly reach down to hook your fingers around the hem of your underwear and drag them down your thighs. Once they've been pulled from your body, you get ready to toss them onto the other side of the bed. But before they can be flicked from the tips of your fingers, Harry snatches them with his fist.

"Uh-uh," he tuts as he tucks them into his suit's breast pocket. "These are mine now."

You suck in a sharp, eager pant. "Har—"

"Shh." He settles back onto his stomach, hands curling around your thighs to guide them apart and allow him a better visual. "M'busy, little one."

But it’s nearly impossible to stay quiet as his warm breath fans across your pussy, making the mess that much more obvious to you both. In fact, you can practically see the glistening reflection in his eye as he studies your cunt in the most intimate of ways.

You're not sure what he wants. What he's doing or planning or thinking. And you don't know why, but the way he stares at you does more for the apprehensive coil in your gut than him actually touching you has.

Finally, he makes another satisfied noise deep within the back of his throat before he brings his fingers back to you.

Two are placed just above your clit before he teasingly drags them down. However, when your hips buck up, he merely shoves them back down with a tsk.

Once you’re still, he starts again. Easing himself through your folds as he spreads you with the utmost glee. Fascinated by the way your body feels, the way it reacts to him.

His tongue sits between his lips as he ventures down, and the moment he finds the pooling of arousal waiting for him...you see the muscles in his neck contract.

"Darling…" The nickname is whispered across your body as he scoots closer. "Bet this hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes," you reply instantaneously, straining around the singular word as you resist the urge to whimper.

He circles the tip of his finger around your aching hole, almost as if to test you. "Oh, precious girl...how long, hm? How long have you been in so much pain?"

Truthfully, since you hugged him at the diner.

"All day," you say aloud, hands gripping onto the duvet beneath you. "All day, Har. Been thinking about you all day."

And that is the honest answer. You'd been anxiously awaiting your meeting from the moment you woke up.

But he smiles as if he knows better, despite the way he seems to bask in your response. "All day, hm? And what were you gonna do if I never came back? Were you just gonna sit here and rub your pretty thighs together?"

Your heart skips while your hands gather atop of your stomach.

His brow raises. "No? Well then how were you gonna take care of it, hm?"

For a moment, you think this is simply rhetorical, but the longer the silence stretches, the more obvious it becomes that he expects an answer.

You swallow the odd lump in your throat. "How do you think?"

"Uh-uh," he chastises again. "I wanna hear you say it. Want you to tell me exactly how you were gonna fix this little problem of yours had I not been here."

Your head flops back against the pillows as you glare at the ceiling. He's always been rather infuriating but now he's a menace.

"Dot..." He's warning you. Calling you back. Urging you not to be so bratty.

With a tentative sigh, you look back at him. "My...vibrator."

He perks up. "Yeah?"

You nod faintly.

"Tell me how," he instructs next, jutting his chin toward you. "Better yet...show me. Show me how you've been taking care of yourself all these years."

Feeling rather embarrassed under the spotlight of such an intimate request, you shyly look over toward your nightstand and outstretch a hand. After pulling the drawer open, you slip inside and find the purple wand that's just small enough to fit snugly inside your palm.

And Harry watches with a certain wonder in his eye as you bring the dainty toy closer. Yet, he says nothing while you slowly guide it toward your stomach and down to your thighs.

But he does, however, shift in order to make room, scooting back by a hair to allow you the space you need to place the head right above your aching clit.

For some reason, doing something so private in front of him feels...odd. Strange and almost unsettling. And perhaps that's just nerves, but you can't deny the heat that rushes to your face as he looks between you and the vibrator.

"S'this it, then?" he murmurs, a hint of teasing laced within the remark. "Don't even have to turn it on?"

Your thumb taps against the power button, a nervous tic, although you refrain from switching the toy on just yet. "No..."

His smirk is borderline haughty. "Then what do you do, little one? How do you use it?"

You say nothing. You hold his stare, and you hold a deep breath, and you hold the wand to your glistening cunt.

Then...you flip the switch.

The soft, dainty vibrations echo across the room, across your bodies, and across your clit as it's met with the instant stimulation of the pulsating wand.

You choke on a gasp as you return your eyes to the ceiling, allowing for the feeling to take control of each remaining sense.

And as you do, Harry's hands make themselves known to you as they begin to smooth up your legs, helping guide your thighs further apart once again.

There's an ever-so-slight stretch that follows as your muscles are pulled, and the distinctive burn makes your lashes flutter shut.

"There you go," he whispers. "So pretty, darling. God, could watch you do this all day."

Truthfully, you imagine you’re quite a sight. After all, you’ve watched yourself before. You know how it looks. Know exactly the kind of visual fantasy Harry is witness to right now.

So, you play it up, give him a show. After all...he's got a front row seat.

You rotate the head slowly, circling down and around your hole before retreating and dragging the object back up and through.

And you shiver every time it brushes against that particular sweet spot. Every time the pulses slow just to speed up once more. It's almost torturous the way your body is being bent to such salacious desires. And cruel the way you're forced to do this while he only watches.

A whimper slips free, and you arch off the bed, pressing the toy as tight against your body as you can stand.

You hear Harry chuckle.

"Easy," he warns before you feel his fingers curl around your wrist, encouraging your grip to relax. "Take it slow, Dot. Not in a hurry, are you?"

"No," you breathe, head shaking zealously. "No, m'just...feels good."

"Does it?" He almost sounds surprised. "Hm. Interesting. Seeing as you're doing it wrong."

Your head lifts.

He glances toward the vibrator. "May I?"

You nod.

Pleased, he slips the toy free from between your fingers and clears his throat. Focused eyes landing on your body as he readies the bullet.

Then...he begins.

It meets your clit—an innocent, familiar touch—before it's instantly being dragged down. He's slow with it. Giving you enough time to feel each particular flutter and twitch.

Your soft gasps and grateful sighs carry him further, until the tiny head of the toy is swimming through your arousal. You fall still, attention locked on the man by your knees.

But he’s still focused. Soft, green eyebrows weaving together as his pretty cherry lips stretch into a smile.

Something changes—everything changes—when he slips the head inside. Your entire body ripples from the vibrations as you stumble over his name and squirm across the mattress.

He only laughs before placing his arm overtop your stomach to keep you cemented to the bed. "None of that. Stay still for me."

"Har," you whisper, depleted of any strength. "Please..."

"What, little one? What do you want?"

"I need...please, I'm..."

"What? Does it feel good?"

"Yes. Yes...yes, feels so good. Please..."

"Please what? What do you want, sugar?"

More. Everything. Anything. "Fuck, I'm—don't stop. Please don't stop."

"Oh, darling," he breathes. "I'd never dream of it."

He takes the toy out and moves it back to your clit, circling gently a few times before pressing down hard.

And you almost miss the full feeling it provided as it was eased into you, but before you can dwell for too long...Harry's extending his fingers and slipping them into your cunt.

Not one, but two of those beautiful digits push past your walls and begin to stretch you, ripping a gasp from your throat at the simultaneous stimulation.

"Attagirl," he murmurs from below, and you can hear the smug undertone. "That's what you wanted, hm? Needed something to fill you."

Your chest heaves, the red lace of your bra lifting and falling as you roll your head back. "God, Har—"

"Tell me, darling," he continues, easing himself out just to push back in. "Were you gonna use your own fingers? If I wasn't here? Gonna ride your pretty little hand?"

You can't tell if he already knows the answer or if he just wants to picture your hand between your thighs.

Either way, you pant out, "Mhm."

"Yeah? How many, honey? How many were you gonna use?"

"...two."

He tsks, seemingly disappointed with this answer. "Just two? Hm. And would it have felt like this, darling? Would they be able to do it for you the way mine can?"

To accompany this ask, he curls upward, nearly yanking the pleasure out of you as you choke on a cry and writhe away from him.

"Fuck—" Your teeth tug on your bottom lip. "Shit, Har—"

"Is that a no, then?" He thrusts his fingers out and back in again. "Would you have gotten yourself this wet...with just your own hand?"

The sound of him slipping through your arousal meets your ear as you groan and look down.

"No?" He adds a third finger while making sure to keep the wand of the vibrator exactly where it needs to be. "What about when you thought of me? Would that have done it for you, sugar? Thinking of me while you soaked your sheets? While you dripped down your knuckles as you fucked yourself?"

You've never heard a man talk to you this way. You already knew his experience superseded that of any man you'd been with before but this. None of those other boys ever knew how. But Harry...God. He knows just what to say. Knows exactly what you need to hear, and it overwhelms you.

"Har...Har—"

"Need an answer," he reminds you, but when you refuse to offer him one, he takes himself away. His fingers, the toy, his body. Leaning away completely as your pussy goes completely quiet.

"Harry," you just about moan, pushing up onto your elbows to leverage the playing field. "You...I'm...I was just—"

"Disobeying," he answers for you. "That's what you were doing. And I don't think that's fair, do you?"

You frown. You know this tone he's taking with you. Authoritative and condescending. It makes you huff. "Fine. I'll try again."

"Good girl," he murmurs, nodding at you as if to encourage confidence.

"I...wait, what was the question again?"

He smiles at this, releasing an amused chuckle beneath his breath before crawling back to you. His hands find the mattress beside your hips and he settles between your parted thighs, lips dangerously closer now.

And you can smell him. Smell his cologne, and his aftershave, and his shampoo. Can feel the heat radiating off his body, even through the expensive suit. Can see how much he wants to take care of you—ruin you. As promised.

"Do you get yourself this wet...when I'm not around?" he repeats, and the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

Your breath hitches. "No."

The answer was always obvious, but you know he needed to hear you say it.

"Do you touch yourself...the way I touch you?"

"No."

"Can you make yourself come the way I can?"

"God, no—" you gasp before taking hold of his face and smashing his mouth against yours.

His lips are perfect and his kiss is perfect and the two of you are perfect together. A connection so seamless, so effortless...it's as if you were always meant to be.

A ridiculous notion, you think to yourself, but right now...it's quite nice.

He pulls himself back just enough to meet your eye and offer a devious grin. "Then let’s find out, hm?"

Rough fingertips travel up the length of your inner thigh, forming goosebumps in the wake. You shiver, ready to receive his touch once again before he dances right past your cunt, and up your hip.

He moves for the lace on your chest, tugging on the wire between your breasts with a disappointed tsk.

"I want this gone," he decides, plucking it from your skin. "Need to see all of you, Dot."

And before you can even reach back to undo the hook, he's looping an arm underneath your back, lifting you up, and flicking the clasp free.

Once done, he yanks the bra down your arms and body before flinging it somewhere behind him.

Your eyes shut as your naked chest is revealed to him, heart hammering against your ribcage.

But then, you feel those lips again. He wraps his mouth around your left nipple before you can even whisper his name, sucking on you as though he's determined to make you see stars.

Which you do the moment his teeth pull on the sensitive skin. And you can't help but mewl as his tongue flicks cruel and merciless patterns against before moving for your collarbone.

He groans as he goes, situating his knee between your legs and pressing it directly against your cunt. His other hand gropes at your right breast, kneading at the tender flesh until his mouth reaches your neck. He nips at a vein just below your jaw and you arch up into him, chest knocking into his.

He sucks sweet bruises into the curve of your throat before licking apologies over the newly ruined skin. It's slow and painful and beautifully good.

Everything about him is beautiful and good.

His entire body seems to cater to yours as he cages you to the mattress and easily pulls whimpers from your throat. As he touches you, and pleases you, and knows you in a way nobody else ever has.

You grind yourself against his leg before glancing down. And that’s when you notice the way your arousal has begun to soak through his nice pants. The way a dark little patch seeps into the fancy—and expensive—material. A sight both erotic and humiliating.

Your whimper forces his eyes to where yours reside, and he smirks when he sees your mess.

"What's the matter, little one?" he asks, taking his hand from your tit and using it to grab onto your jaw. "Are you embarrassed?"

You nod, despite his hold.

"Oh, my dirty little girl,” he hums. “I don't mind you soaking my trousers. But I'd rather you soak my cock."

You'd rather that, too, and you're more than grateful when he leans back to undo his belt. You don't know where this will lead you. If you’ll fuck him and then lose contact for another five years.

Or if you’ll fuck him and change everything.

But right now, you don't mind. You'll happily exist in this moment with him. In these bad decisions until you're coming so hard, you forget your own name.

He leans back to begin ridding himself of his clothes and you scramble upward to help him along. Your greedy hands grab at his jacket and his shirt, wrestling them down his arms and off his broad chest. Wanting to see him the way he can see you.

You nearly moan when his inked skin is revealed to you. You knew he'd gotten a few tattoos in college, and even some a bit after. But seeing them now, painted across such a tan, toned canvas makes your head spin.

"Easy," he laughs, reaching out to swipe his thumb beside your mouth to collect the pooling drool. "Save some for me, hm?"

But you can't. Instead, you take his finger between your lips and bury it beside your tongue.

Surprised, his lashes flutter. But once you realize he won’t be able to undo his pants without both hands, you regretfully pop his digit free. Allowing him to slip out of his briefs until his cock springs free.

He’s…perfect. Still. Somehow. Red and swollen and leaking just for you. And you clench from the mere thought of having something so beautiful inside you.

You crawl closer, eager for a taste, but Harry simply grabs hold of your chin.

"Yes, little one?" he murmurs, using his other hand to hold his cock. "Did you want something?"

You nod and lean forward another inch.

"All right," he concedes, pumping himself before subtly tugging you down. "Just a taste, honey. Since you've been so good."

He leads your mouth to him and without a moment's hesitation, you outstretch your tongue, and drag it along the underside.

You revel in the way you feel him twitch. In the way he exhales a deep breath through parted lips while moving his fingers to your hair, guiding you closer but not too close. Just enough to get him on your tastebuds.

You hum when you reach the tip, eager to indulge in the pre-cum already beading in pearly drops. And the vibrations from your eager appreciation make the muscles in his stomach quiver as he curses your name.

However, you barely get the chance to wrap your mouth around him before he's yanking on your hair, and straightening you back up.

"What did I say?" he hisses. "Don't be greedy, Dot."

"I'm sorry," you whisper, swallowing the bit of him still lingering in your mouth. "M'sorry, won't do it again."

"No, you won't. Or I'll go back on my promise."

"No," you whine, needy fingers wrapping around his wrist to keep him close. "No, won't do it again. I promise."

You know he’s amused with your desperation, and even though you're slipping fast, he can't help but be entertained. "We'll see, little one."

With a fervent motion of your head, you scramble back to the pillows to lay down, legs spreading as if to invite him in.

He smirks as he strokes his cock a time or two more while settling himself between your thighs. You imagine he could have you in a number of ways, a plethora of positions. But he chooses this. He chooses to see your face this first time. To see every ounce of pleasure etched within your features.

And truth be told, you don't mind. You could stare at him forever.

"Do you have any condoms?" he asks next, dipping down to press his lips to yours for only a second. "Or would you prefer to go without?"

You consider this. You're on birth control and you do have a bit of a creampie kink, so you shake your head.

"Without," you answer quickly before lifting an eyebrow. "Unless you'd like to?"

"No," he chuckles, placing a kiss to your nose this time. "Just wanted to make sure. Promised to take care of you, and that's what I plan to do."

Your heart flutters.

"Okay, gonna need you to be good, honey," he tells you now, large palm landing on your hip to steady you. "Gonna need you to take me and do as I say, all right? And I'll make it worth it."

"I will," you agree quickly, fingers traveling up the dips in his arms, ghosting over each muscle until you reach his shoulders. "Be so good, Har, promise."

"Uh-uh." His hand smacks against your inner thigh in warning before his thick eyebrow cocks up. "S'not my name, darling. Not right now."

Curious as to what he might mean, you study him for only a moment before you realize.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

Just like that, something in his demeanor switches.

Truth be told, the name doesn't do much for you. But you revel in the way he feeds off it. Find absolute euphoria in the way he lights up at your obedience until you want nothing more than to please him again. To call him anything he wants as long as he keeps looking at you like that.

"Good girl," he growls beneath a deep breath before he's bringing his cock closer.

He starts by dragging it along your clit, making you jolt and buck before his hand splays across your stomach to force you back down.

"No," he says simply, eyes fixated on the torture he's currently implementing.

He does it again, letting your swollen, puffy clit jump from the slight brush of his tip while he drags it through your arousal and shifts forward.

"Breathe," he orders next, stealing a quick glance at your puckered lips and wide eyes. “All right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He slides in slowly, pushing past your tight walls, coaxing the muscles to stretch to his size.

At first, it's nothing more than a soft, easy sensation. Relaxing, in a sense as it aids the ache and fills the void his fingers left behind.

Then...he goes deeper.

And this is what you'd been waiting for. The slight tension and subtle burn as your body is forced to accommodate him. You're thankful he goes slow. Not just because of the pain. But because you both want to watch.

You want to watch the way he pulls your body apart. Wanna watch him disappear into your tight hole that pulls him in. Wanna watch the way you flutter and clench and claim him the way he’s claiming you.

"Oh, that's my fucking girl," he groans to himself. "Fucking hell, Dot. Didn’t think you’d be so tight."

"Yeah, well…never had someone like you before," you tease, gauging your body's reaction by slowly rolling your hips up.

"Yeah?" His hand lands on your throat, smoothing up the sides of your neck until he can squeeze a gasp from your lips. “Never, huh?”

You shake your head and with one quick thrust, he bottoms out, forcing a strangled cry as you arch into him.

“Never had someone stretch this pretty pussy the way it deserves, yeah?” He tsks again. “What a fucking shame.”

He rears back, and the pain and the pleasure that follow him out make your chest cave in.

However, he’s quickly driving himself back in before you can complain, pushing past the fluttering muscles once more as you keen and rake your nails down the blanket.

"Harry," you breathe, his name like a lifeline as you drown in his sin.

But it earns you another firm smack to your outer thigh as he grunts his disapproval into your neck. "No," he warns before nipping just below your jaw. "You know better."

But really…you don’t. "Sir...please," you amend.

"Hm. S'a good girl," he praises. "Knew you'd behave for me, yeah? My perfect little toy—"

A rather debauched moan rips from between your gritted teeth as his hips ram into yours. You can feel him everywhere. In your stomach, in your head, in your heart. His legs against yours, his chest against yours, his entire body against yours until you're almost convinced he's gonna become one with your bloodstream.

Not that you'd mind.

His arm slips beneath you once more in order to lift you up and provide him with a new angle. Then, he thrusts himself into you again as your mouth hangs open in a silent gasp for air.

"There she is, that's what you needed. Yeah, little one?' He does it again, brushing against that one spot that makes your toes curl. "The other boys never did it, did they?"

You whine, knees bending besides his hips as you attempt to follow after him when he pulls back.

But he's quick to tut and knock you back down onto your ass. "No. You don't rush me, darling. We do this my way. On my time. If I wanna stay here and fuck you nice and slow, then you’ll behave, and you’ll fucking take me.”

You’d like to agree, but he’s thrusting himself back in before you can.

"You will thank me for taking my time," he continues in a coarse cadence that seems to reverberate from his chest. "You will thank me...for being so goddamn good to you. And you will thank me…for doing it right."

"Harry, please—" you just about wail, hands finding his arms as you grasp on for dear life.

But the fingers around your throat tighten until the edges of your vision begin to blur.

"There you fucking go again," he growls, stilling his rhythmic attacks as he meets your eye. He seems to enjoy watching your focus go fuzzy. "Starting to think you like to be punished, hm? And here I thought you had a praise kink."

You clutch onto his wrist, nails scratching along the veins in his arm as he pounds into you at a harder pace.

But you don't mind. You enjoy watching him give into the voices inside his head. Enjoy the way his chocolate brown curls sweep across his forehead, the way his eyebrows weave together and the muscles in his jaw constrict.

For a 34-year-old man, he seems to possess quite a bit of stamina. He'd mentioned earlier his enjoyment for running and exercising, detailing his rather excessive and diligent routine.

And you'd smirked because you'd assumed he was showing off or because he was trying to stay ahead of the inevitable "dad-bod" in his future.

But now you understand why he's really so meticulous. He's a long way from looking his age. Apart from some subtle, but soft crinkles near his eyes and a few gray hairs that peek through the auburn waves, he looks rather youthful.

And his body. You swallow another noise as you let your hungry gaze trail over every inch, every muscle, every quiver in his thighs as he braces himself above you.

Sir feels like a more appropriate title to you now. Because he is. He is your superior in this moment A man to be respected and revered. Someone who not only knows better,.but knows you. Knows your body and how to play it like an instrument.

There's something exciting about submitting to him. Something tantalizing about being at his mercy. Most of the other men you've been with have felt more like your equals than anything else. Which you haven't minded in the least bit.

But the way Harry has managed to fit you into the submissive, subservient role so quickly suggests that perhaps...this is where you were always meant to be.

Beneath him.

"Oh, honey," he coos, a mix of condescension and amusement. "Can feel you squeezin' me. Need it so bad, don't you? Need to come, hm?"

"Yes. Yes," you whisper, nuzzling your face into his neck, lips eagerly pressing into the salty skin at your disposal. "Please, Ha—Sir. Please let me come. Can't...can't hold it—"

"You will,” he says before he’s grabbing hold of your wrist and hosting it above your head. Burying into the pillow and preventing you from reaching for your clit. “Forget it, Princess. Told you to take me. So you will. Exactly how I tell you.”

"Sir—"

"I said no. I plan to keep you here for quite some time. Plan to feel you coming around my cock as many times as I see fit. And I expect you to behave for me the way you promised. Can you do that? Or do I need to stop?"

"No," you gasp, tears springing to your eyes at the very thought. "No, no, please—"

"Then what are you going to do?"

You swallow a moan and lift your chin proudly. "Take it."

A pleased smile crawls across his face as he hums and dips down to press his mouth to yours. "There she is," he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip. "My good girl. Try to remember that, yeah? Or I'll keep you here all day."

However, that’s something else you wouldn't exactly mind, and you shiver as he pushes your knee into your chest.

"Fucking hell, Dot," he mumbles, eyes falling back down to where you're coating his cock. "Oh, my perfect toy. Look at the way you treat me, honey. Treat me so well, fucking soaking me, aren't you—"

"Yes, Yes, please…"

"I know. I know, little one. Feels so good to be filled, yeah? To be fucked the right way—"

"God, yes. More...please—"

"More, huh? Need more? Need me to make it better? Need me to fucking take—"

Suddenly, your phone rings.

The soft, melodic chime cuts through Harry’s vulgar response, bringing the moment to a close as his thrusts falter and he glances over.

God, you hate that stupid, evil, sadistic machine. Right now, you wish you'd never bought it. You wish you could throw it again the wall until it shatters into a thousand fucking pieces so as long as he just keeps going.

Instead, he searches your nightstand for the small device before he's releasing your leg in order to reach for it.

"No, Har," you plead, attempting to grab onto his hand. "Just let it go to voicemail, it's fine—"

"But that wouldn't be very polite, now, would it?" he tuts, glancing over the screen. "And I think you need to take this, darling."

"Harry, please—"

"Shh," he says sharply. “You're gonna take this phone call and you're gonna use your word. And then, and you're gonna come for me."

His thumb hovers over the green button and he guides the phone to your ear.

"And you're not gonna make a fucking sound," he adds, dropping his voice to a threatening hiss before pressing the receiver to your ear. "Or I fucking stop. Do you understand?"

You do your best to nod, and he smiles before tapping the screen.

Through a slight quiver, you say, "Hello?"

"Hey! Long time no talk, babe. How are you?"

Your eyes just about pop out of your head.

Atta.

Her cheerful tone and eager greeting make the blood drain from your face as you look up at the man hovering above you.

"Speak," he mouths with a wicked grin while nodding his chin at you.

But you can't. You physically cannot get the words to come out of your mouth as Harry keeps the device glued to the side of your head.

"H...hi," you stammer, forcing a more confident cadence. "I'm...good. How...how are you?"

"Oh, I'm good. Good, yeah," your sister replies, and you hear a bit of shuffling. "Been working a lot. Got today off, which is nice. God, you'd never believe how much shit we have to go through since we changed our filing system—"

"Mhm," you reply right as Harry rams his hips into yours.

You gasp and quickly turn your head away from the phone in an attempt to keep the excitable noise from making it into the microphone.

However, he uses his other hand to grasp onto your jaw and force you back. "No," he whispers, shooting you a stern look of warning. "You know better."

"—which is wild because we've been using the same program since '08," Atta is saying, although you can hardly hear her over the imminent pleasure rushing through your veins. "But...whatever. Once we're done, it'll make things so much easier. Which will be nice. I can cut back on my hours—"

"Yeah, mhm," you repeat, and it's outrageously strained as Harry pulls himself out, leaving you depraved and so goddamn empty.

You have to fight the urge to cry out for him, glancing down at the string of arousal that follows his cock. And it's almost too much for you to handle as you greedily reach for him once more.

However, he bats your hands away and brings his free fingers from your chin to your clit, rubbing into the sensitive nerves until you arch up.

"—so, yeah. What about you?"

Your eyes squeeze shut as that tightly wound ball of pleasure in your stomach expands. "I'm...I...good. I'm...good. You know, not...not a lot going on. At the moment."

Harry smirks to himself before sinking all the way back in and thrusting up.

Your lip fights its way between your teeth and you writhe beneath his chest while praying for the strength to stay quiet.

"Well...I guess no news is good news, yeah?" she chuckles. "Oh, hey, speaking of which...I heard that Harry's in town."

That's not the only thing he's in.

"Oh?" you squeak, placing a palm on Harry's chest almost as if in retaliation. "He is?"

"Yeah. Saw it on Facebook," she answers, and you hear her move around. "Figured he might try to reach out. I know you guys are still on good terms, right?"

"Me and Harry?" you repeat pointedly, garnering a curious look from the aforementioned man. "Uh...we're...yeah. I guess. But we’re not…that close."

He grins.

"Well...I just thought I'd let you know in case he does," she says, and your lashes flutter shut as the guilt begins to find you.

"Would it be weird...if he did?" you ask before the patterns being traced against your clit make you whimper.

Terrified, you quickly cough in an attempt at burying the sound, but Atta doesn't seem to hear.

"I mean...maybe? I don't know. He and I are fine, I think. And I know you two were friends. I guess you could at least...check on him. Make sure he's doing okay."

"Yeah," you breathe, sneaking a glance up. "I'm...I'm sure he's doing just fine."

Harry smiles once more before moving his palm to your thigh and pressing it into the bed to spread you at a different angle.

"I hope," Atta sighs. "Anyway, I wanted to call and check in. Just to make sure everything is going okay for you—"

"Mhm, yeah. I'm...I'm glad you did," you blubber while attempting to send Harry a pointed look. You're close. So fucking close, and if he keeps going...

"Are you sure you're all right? You sound a bit flustered—"

"Yes. Yes, yes, I'm..." Your head shakes quickly, nails scratching down Harry's chest in warning. He needs to stop. He needs to stop or you won't make it. "I'm fine. I'm...a little under the weather, but I'm—"

Suddenly, he sheathes himself inside your cunt, face burying in your neck with a groan as your entire body shivers.

"Are you sure? You kind of sound like you're in pain—"

"Listen, Atta, I...I gotta go—" you gasp, so close to your orgasm that you can practically taste it. “I’m sorry—”

"Oh, yeah. Hey, text me, okay? Just let me know that you're all right—"

"Mhm, yeah, I will—fuck—"

It happens before you can stop it. Ripping through every muscle and fiber in your body as you rake your fingers down Harry's back and choke on a moan.

Thankfully for you, Harry has already ended the call and thrown the phone to the other side of the room so he can loop his arm beneath your hips and tug you up into his body.

"Go," he breathes. "Give it to me. Come on, little one. Just like that. Good fucking girl, just like that. Let me feel you—"

Your room fills with the sound of his name, dancing effortlessly between the whimpers that follow.

It feels like you've touched heaven. A sensation so overwhelming and euphoric that you don't even realize his hand has returned to your throat. Don't realize he's squeezing your neck in his tight fist as he comes, filling your cunt with everything he has to give you.

You don't even realize you can't breathe, but you love it. Love the way he presses his teeth into your shoulder and presses his body into your chest. Until you're trapped against the mattress while you live through the high.

Every joint in your body aches. Radiating pain and pleasure all at once as you hook your leg over his hip and snake your arms around his neck.

And you keep him inside of you for what feels like hours. Even after you've regained a bit of consciousness. And a bit of common sense.

Perhaps the moment he pulls out, you'll realize the mistake you've made. You’ll realize that this isn't a secret you can keep. Or a choice that you can ever choose again. And maybe he’ll realize it, too.

But until then…

You’re happy to have your Harry back.

~ Masterlist

Taglist: @littlenatilda @prettythingsworld @heartateasee @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @monicaalexandraaa

@cinnamonone @triski73 @lemoncrushh @vamprry @lady-lamb21

@lillefroe @kirstiea05 @ribbonknives @lunaharrygurl @harringtonhundreds

@swiftmendeshoran @sundresstyles @eldahae @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs

@hannahdressedasabanana @sykostyles @lukesaprince @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus

@lovrave @nuggetdean @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @babegoals @lc-fics

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hesbunnies · 1 month ago

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✨️ here's a list of my favorite harry styles smut one-shots ✨️

@hsunrry

• assistant

• safe word

• moustache | moustache 2

• pretty boy

• don't leave me

• new side

• best i've ever had

• water whale

@gurugirl

• she likes to watch

• truth or dare

• says who?

@watchmegetobsessed

• flatmates

• good morning

• good girl

• tastes like strawberries

• an acean away

• all yours

• dogs or cats

• costume

• nervous

• edging

• my best girl

• next door

• wet dreams

• cover up

• delicious

• make ger regret it

• even if it takes forever

check out all my lists here!!

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #dom harry styles #dom!harry

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mommynott · 3 months ago

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Ride of your life

Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Matching with a hot biker on tinder leads to not only an amazing date, but a motorcycle ride…and another kind of ride as well. Starry nights certainly set the mood for a…romantic type of atmosphere.

Warning: 18+, SMUT, MDNI, chars 18+, biker!theo, dom!theo, rough sex, semi public sex, outdoor sex, PIV, degrading, hook up

After a wonderful and heated date, you both stood in front of his bike, Theo turning to you, a sly smile on his lips. “Interested in a ride, Cara Mia?” he asked, starting up the bike. The low rumble of the motorcycle idling behind him. His eyes gleamed in the soft glow of the street light above, the invitation laced with a hint of danger and temptation. Who knew a Tinder date could go THIS well?

You couldn’t deny the attraction you felt, the way your heart thumped against your chest in response to the question. Staring over at the bike, sleek and powerful, the engine purring softly as if coaxing you to say yes. Do I do it? Fuck it. It’s fine. Just as you were about to answer, he tilted his head to the side.

Theo chuckled, his eyes still fixed on yours, almost as if he couldn't look away. Which he couldn't. He was a hunter tonight, and you? His prey. "You look like you're thinking hard about it," His already deep voice was low and teasing. "It's just a bike ride, you know. Unless... you're worried that being that close to me might be a little too much for you to handle."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a thrilling mix of excitement and adrenaline coursing through your veins. "Is that a challenge?" You countered as you met his gaze with a flirty smile of your own. Theo raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the banter between the two of you. "More like a promise.”

You laughed, the sound tinged with a hint of nervousness. There was something about his confidence, his charming demeanor, that made you feel almost dizzy. "Alright then." you took a step closer to him. "But you better not disappoint me."

"Oh, trust me. I never disappoint." Theo’s eyes raked down your body in a way that made your skin tingle. He reached out, his hand skimming the small of your back as he guided you toward the bike and lifting you on with ease. He unclipped his extra helmet, helping you put it on.

As Theo's strong hands adjust the helmet on your head, the heat of his body radiates against your own. His fingers graze against the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "Comfortable?" he asks in that same low tone.

You nod your head and he hops on in the front. Immediately taking hold of your hands to wrap them around his waist. Feeling his muscles through the material of his shirt. Fuck. Theo feels this and throws you a glance from over his shoulder, a cocky smile tugging at the corners of his lips from under his helmet.

As your hands settle on his waist, you find yourself aware of just how close your body is pressed against his. Feeling his muscles flex under your touch, it takes every ounce of your restraint not to let your hands wander elsewhere. "You ready?" Theo asks, his voice slightly raised over the low growl of the engine.

Before you can even respond, he takes off. Revving the bike and smoothly steering it into the city streets. The cool breeze hitting you, but Merlin, you were loving this already. Fuck am I already turned on? “Where are we even going?” You asked through a sea of giggles while he started to pull out of the city.

Theo shot a sly glance over his shoulder, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You'll see, bella" Answering almost in a cryptic manner, his Italian accent slipped through his lips with ease while he accelerated further. The speed causes the wind to rush against you, making your hands grip his waist even tighter. I hope I don’t regret this.

The streets give way to a series of winding country roads As the bike rumbles underneath you. Theo reaches one hand back to give your thigh a squeeze. "You okay back there?" he asked just as he pulled up to an open area of a field. You nodded your head slowly, enjoying this ride more than you even thought you would.

But little did you know, Theo was hard. Rock hard. His cock almost bursting through his jeans from your simple and soft touch. The field was secluded, away from any prying eyes. Not that there were any around anyway. He came to a slow halt while he turned off the bike.

Theo grabs your waist, picking you off the bike to set you down on the pebble road, helping you take your helmet off. But his hand never leaves your side. A smile paints over your face as you glance around. Stars. The sky was filled with nothing but stars. a view you wouldn’t see so close to the city. “Gods-Theo…This is magnificent…”

Theo's hand slid from your waist to your hip, his fingers tracing small circles through the fabric of your clothes. He smiled at your awe while you looked upwards, the stars spreading out across the night sky like a sparkling blanket. "I knew you'd like it," he spoke out his voice tinged with pride. He took a step closer, closing the gap between you.

Your breathing got heavier as you looked up at him. He lifted the visor. His ocean-blue gaze visible and his brows furrowed teasingly. But nothing could have prepared you for his next question. Nothing. “You ever been fucked on a bike?” The second those words left Theo’s lips you gasped at the vulgarity of them. Beginning to feel that second heartbeat between your thighs. No. No, I haven’t. But for fucks sake, do I want to.

“N-no. I haven’t.” You stuttered as you shook your head. Theo crept a tad bit closer to you. Both of his hands wrapped around the small of your back. His cologne, a scent mixed with musk and leather, wafted over you. The fragrance evoking something within you. “Well…Do you want to be fucked on a bike?”

He asked through a cocky chuckle finding this all too amusing. He gave your waist a firm squeeze, a little whimper escaping your lips. Fuck. I’m about to fuck a biker. On his bike. In a fucking field. “I-Yes. God. Please fuck me.” You whispered, your hands trailing down his t-shirt. This slight movement only made Theo’s dick pulsate in his pants.

With ease, Theo picked you back up to set you on the bike before slapping your thighs open. Your legs spread open through the skirt you had on, lace panties on full display for Theo. “Keep begging. Just like that.” With that, he slammed his visor down, you could see your shocked and flustered reflection in it.

Theo’s hands snaked down, unzipping his pants and shuffling them down. Taking his massive length out while he stroked it with one hand, the other tugging your panties to the side. A groan of approval escaping his lips while his eyes burned down to your leaking slit.

“I’m going to give you the ride of your life, Tesoro,” Theo growled before teasing his precum-covered tip on your aching clit. Soft moans release themselves from your lips. “Ride of my life-“ Your words cut off as he slammed himself deep inside of you without warning. Not giving you any time to adjust to his throbbing cock. And hell, did you feel otherworldly to Theodore.

“So wet-Fuck…So fucking tight.” Theo spoke through his grunts, the sound of slapping wetness heard around you both. One hand remained gripped on your waist as he pounded into you senselessly, the other reaching up to yank your top down, along with your bra. Your breasts bouncing out and fuck, Theo could have busted from that sight alone. “Look at you. Getting fucked on my bike like the dirty slut you are….You’re-Fuck…too fucking good.”

His degrading words only fueled the arousal that was heating up throughout your body. You couldn’t even speak. The mix of the great pleasure Theo was giving you along with the reflection of yourself in his tinted visor was about to push you over the cliff of climax.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum,” He demanded while you seemed to freeze up. Theo came to a complete stop, twitching his cock inside of you teasingly. A low chuckle escaping from under his mask. “The first time I make you finish, I want to taste it.” Again, you were stuck in that state of shock. Not even knowing what to say or do. Is he saying what I think he is?

“I-I’m-“ your words cut off when Theo pulled himself out of you, his cock glistening under the starlight, your juices completely coating it. He threw his helmet off, his light brown hair a mess. But in just a few moments you’d be making it even messier. “Shut the fuck up. You can talk while I eat this pussy, tell me how good I make you feel.” Your eyes went wide, the apples of your cheeks flushing bright cherry red.

Theodore didn’t waste any time, dropping to his knees and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. His manly and veiny hands dug into your upper thighs while he spread your legs even wider. You leaned back on the motorcycle to prop yourself up, your own nails digging into the leather seat as you prepared for this. But nothing could prepare you for what Theodore Nott was about to make you feel like.

Electrifying. You swore you felt lighting bolts shoot down around you the second he buried his face between your thighs. Your hands find their way into his locks. “Theo!” You cried out in pleasure, your body already reacting to his touch. Nothing. And I mean NOTHING, had ever made you feel this fucking good. Your gaze shifted down to meet Theo’s darkened and hungry eyes. They were burning up into yours and through the swirls of magic his tongue was focused on doing to your clit, you swore you saw a smirk on his lips.

I’m about to cum. And fast. From fucking oral. Who the fuck Is this guy? “You taste fucking incredible, Tesoro.” He said through a tough, long lick up your slit, never breaking eye contact. “So sweet.” Another long lick, making your legs tremble like no other. “Cosi Delizioso, Bella,” Theo spoke into your wet and warmed core, but never removing his mouth off of you.

“I’m so close. Fuck, baby. P-please, don’t stop!” You moaned in a plea, your fingers tugging on his hair even harder. But fuck, did Theo love it. Snaking one of his hands down to his needy cock, stroking it as his tongue flicked faster against your swollen little bud. “That’s it, cum for me. Make a fucking mess on my bike.” Theodore encouraged, lapping his tongue even faster than before. Wanting to see you in that orgasmic state of bliss.

A heaven-like feeling of pure euphoria washed over you, your eyes rolling back into your head, a scream of pleasure echoing into the starry night above the two of you. An orgasm like none other before, Theo drinking in the sweet nectar of your juices. Making sure to taste every last drop and Merlin, was he drunk on you. “Mio Dio, hai il sapore del paradiso.” A low growl muffled against your sensitive skin. Your body quivering under Theo’s touch, he pulled away, smacking kisses along your upper thigh. “T-that was- it was-“ You were stumbling over your breathy words, an embarrassed smile plastering on your face.

“Amazing huh? Someone seemed to really like that.” Again, with the cocky demeanor, but fuck did you like his confidence. His aura. Everything. You felt the heat pool onto your face while you nodded your head to his question, gazing up at him with a doe-eyed stare. “Bend over.” He demanded through his shit-eating smirk. Waving his finger toward the bike. “On your bike?”

“Yes, on my bike. Come on now. Don’t keep me waiting, Cara Mia.” Theo stroked his throbbing erection with a great need while he watched you turn around and arch that perfect ass up. And oh what a perfect ass that was. He stalked closer behind you, letting his hand come down with force-SMACK. The redness spread across your cheek, a hiss releasing from your lips. But the pain and pleasure were mixing together to create something of bliss.

Theodore jiggled your ass, watching it ripple with his touch while he took his cock, teasing it at your slick entrance. “Such a good girl. You listen so well don’t you?” He husked, taking this moment to appreciate the spectacular view of you. A good fucking sub. “Mhmm” You panted, waiting for his next move.

Just then, once again, without warning he rammed his hardness deep inside of you. But this time a tad easier than before. Loosened up that pussy. Your view was the pebble road beneath the bike. Seeing the tires, the gears as he mercilessly pounded into you. -Smack smack smack. You could hardly contain yourself. This was something out of a fucking smut book.

“Gods, you look…so fucking pretty bent over my bike,” Theo grunted through his rough thrusts. That charming Italian accent rolling off of his tongue with dominance and assertiveness. And fuck did you love every second of it. “Oh yeah? You think so?” You tested him with a slight hint of your bratty side. That familiar feeling of nearing climax running through your body.

“I know so.” Smack- Theodore’s strong hand came down to another firm slap across your ass. Seeing his handprint swell across your juicy cheek, a prideful smirk forming on his face. You were close, and Theo could tell. Feeling your cream coat his cock, your walls clenching and gripping his huge length.

His hand tugged into your hair, pulling you back so your glossed-over eyes could meet his. That same smirk never leaving his face. “I wanna see those pretty eyes of yours while you cum on my cock.” Theo teased, moving himself harder inside of your pussy. The sounds of wetness only increasing. “Y-yes, baby” You managed to squeak out from the babbling mess forming in your throat.

You couldn’t hold back any longer, letting loose as your gaze locked with Theo’s only intensifying the orgasm you were reaching. Loud screams escaped your mouth, never once did Theo stop his rhythm. “That’s it, baby girl. I’m going to cover this perfect ass in my cum.” He grunted, thrusting himself inside of you a few more times before lifting your skirt a bit more.

The view. The orgasms. You. It was all more than enough to get Theo off. He pulled his length out of your pussy, stroking it over your ass. His thick white seed shooting out all over your backside. Watching as it sprawled out all over, dripping down your thighs along with your own cum. “Fuck... You’re something else-You good, Bella?” You nodded your head, you were more than good. You were in the afterglow in the midst of following this phenomenal hook-up.

Theodore, grabbed a soft rag from under the seat, taking his time to clean you up before helping you get settled and dressed. From the dominant side you saw earlier, you were now seeing a more sweet side of him. “Thank you…For the help of course.” You giggled, feeling the slightest bit awkward. Thank you? Seriously? Theo chuckled along with you, opening his seat again to pull out a thin blanket.

You watched as he laid it on the ground next to his motorcycle, a sweet smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Stargaze with me?” Theo asked, a sweet smile of his own creeping onto his face. You sat beside him, his arm thrown around you as you both got lost in the starry night above you.

You never expected the date to go this well, let alone have sex on a damn bike in the middle of nowhere. Guess it was a beautiful and fun night, filled with wild adventures for you both. But it was a good ride. Just like Theodore said. The ride of your life.

Divider is from here! Hope you beautiful stars enjoyed🖤

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gurugirl · 7 months ago

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Daddy's Pretty Girl | dom!daddy!h

Summary: Harry just wants to make his princess happy OR The story of you and Harry, how you met, and all the rest.

A/n: Requested! This was previously posted on Patreon!

Word Count: 4,385

Warning: Smut, cock warming, exhibition kink (public), daddy kink, DDlg (consented and role play understood), dom/sub dynamic

🌸 🌸 🌸

“Princess? What are you doing?” Harry spoke calmly as he placed his hands on your hips while you balanced yourself on the counter to reach the tallest cupboard.

“I can’t reach this high so I had to climb up here to get something.”

“And why didn’t you ask me for help? Hmm?” He gripped you in his hands and pulled you down to the floor safely.

You’d been caught red-handed. Well, sort of. You hadn’t quite found what you were looking for before Harry noticed you climbing on the counter. It was the package of butter shortbread cookies with the strawberry jam and cream in the center that you were trying to find. Harry hid them from you because every time he brought home your little treats you’d ruin your appetite for dinner and so it was just easier for him to put them somewhere you couldn’t find them.

Pouting you kicked your bare foot against your shin, “Just didn’t want to bother you.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his bottom into the counter as he smirked at you, “Oh is that so? And what were you looking for then?”

You shrugged and looked up at him with your sweetest softest eyes as you bit your lip. He knew what you were looking for. He didn’t even need to ask.

Harry sighed and walked past you to the pantry and reached to the tall shelf pulling down your treats. You smiled widely and clasped your hands together, waiting patiently for him to dole out a few of them to you.

“You don’t have to sneak around, Princess. If you want a little treat I’ll give you a little treat. Just ask. But tell Daddy why he hides these from you. Want to make sure you remember.”

Nodding you responded, “Cause I’ll eat the whole box. Then I won’t eat my dinner. And my tummy always hurts after.”

“That’s right. Because you’re like a little puppy with no off switch when it comes to your treats. You’d inhale the whole package if given the chance.”

“But I just wanted one this time. Promise.”

“You never just want one, Y/n,” he took your chin in his hand, “How many do you want?”

“Can I have three?”

Harry smiled and let go of your chin as he reached into the package and pulled out four of your cookies, handing them to you. He always gave you an extra.

“Thank you, Daddy!” You bit into the first one, the buttery crust of the cookie crumbling into the tart strawberry jam with the cream coating your tongue. “Mmmm…”

“You’re welcome, Princess,” he leaned down to kiss your forehead, “Don’t climb up on the counters like that anymore. Okay? Can’t have you getting hurt over a $5 box of biscuits.”

You sighed and nodded as you chewed your next bite and then followed Harry up to his office where he was finishing work. When he sat down in his chair you sat in his lap and popped the next cookie into your mouth. Harry was used to you interrupting his work and sitting in his lap. He didn’t mind it. In fact, he preferred having you in his lap as often as possible.

“Don’t forget we’re going out tonight. I want you to wear that yellow dress I laid out for you on the bed. Okay?”

You crunched your bite and nodded as you leaned back into Harry’s chest and watched his computer screen as he did whatever it was. You didn’t really even know exactly what he did for work. Something about trading money and buying and selling things or funds or… he tried explaining it to you a few times but it went over your head. All you knew was that he got to work from home and he made a lot of money.

Life was good with Harry. You never imagined you’d have it so good. You didn’t have it easy when you were growing up. When you graduated high school you worked full-time so you could pay rent and buy food. You moved away from your dad the moment you had the chance. He was abusive and mean and he scared you.

So you didn’t go to college because your priority was to get away from your dad which meant you’d need to pay rent for a place to live. But you struggled for a long time. You only made minimum wage and you had no friends or any other family to ask for help. Your dad saw to it that any friends you made didn’t stick around.

And back then, even as hard as it had been working menial jobs and living in a rundown apartment barely scraping by, you were free from your dad. Sure things were expensive and you couldn’t always buy groceries, but you could sleep at night knowing you were safe.

But everything changed for you when you got a job as a waitress at a swanky little downtown joint. High rollers wearing expensive watches and Italian shoes would come in with large wads of cash. And the best part was that the tips they left were very very generous.

In a way, it was your lucky break. You started making a living wage when tips were included in your check and you bought yourself a used car with cash. You were able to afford health insurance, a few nice outfits, and could finally have a refrigerator full of food.

It felt like you were living in the lap of luxury. You weren’t, but you’d never felt such freedom in your life. Waitressing was a good gig for you. You were bubbly and nice and often remembered the names of your usuals. They loved it when you remembered their names.

One night, it was an extra busy shift and you’d been struggling to keep up a bit since two people had called in and you were running around every which way trying to make sure all your tables were well taken care of.

A group of four men were seated in your section and you greeted them but one of them could tell you were flustered. Taking their drink orders you scribbled on your notepad what they wanted when one of the men reached out to pull at your apron, “Take a breath, Y/n.”

You squinted your eyes at him when he said your name. You had a nametag of course, so it wasn’t like some crazy thing that he’d know your name, but your guests didn’t normally say your name to you unless they were regulars. And this man was not a regular.

“I’m serious. Take a deep breath, with me,” he kept his dazzling green eyes pinned to yours as he inhaled and you followed his lead, inhaling and then he exhaled, his breath falling from his pink lips. “See? That wasn’t bad, was it? Now, remember to keep breathing. Inhale, exhale.”

You smiled at the handsome man, “Thank you.”

“My name’s Harry.”

You giggled pointed at your name tag, “Y/n. As you know.”

“Beautiful name.”

Somehow Harry had made your busy and hectic night one of the best nights you’d ever had at the restaurant. He was so thoughtful and gentle with you. And he was handsome as hell. Tall and well built, nice hair, big hands…

So when he showed up a week later you were out of your mind giddy because he was in your section. And his genuine warmth had you flushing hot and made you all exasperated and blubbering your words.

Only that second night, instead of just paying the tab and leaving with a wave goodbye he walked up to you and handed you his card as he softly dragged his fingers over your wrist, “When’s your next day off?”

“Tomorrow,” you inhaled as you looked up at him.

“Call me tomorrow.”

So you did, obviously. And really the rest is history. Harry swept you off your feet and took such good care of you that now here you were two years later and still just as smitten with him as the day you met him.

. . .

You loved getting dressed up and going out with Harry, your big strong man who treated you like a princess. You were spoiled and doted on by him and when he took you out he was always so protective of you. Keeping your hand in his or his arm over your shoulder to hold you close.

He normally helped you pick your outfits too. You usually went with whatever he chose to make him happy. He liked having access to your skin so he could squeeze you and touch you which meant he liked you in short dresses and skirts the most. And anything that kept your shoulders bare so he could kiss them.

And depending on what kind of outing it was, he’d let you know if you were allowed to wear your panties or not. That was one decision you were not allowed to make.

Harry pulled out a pair of cotton panties with little hearts all over. Something that covered your bum in case the flimsy material of your short dress rose up.

“Gotta keep your tush covered tonight, Princess,” he said as he pointed at the bed, gesturing for you to sit down so he could help you put your panties on.

“Okay, Daddy,” you bit your lip as Harry knelt down on the floor in front of you and lifted up one of your bare feet, sliding the opening upward and then repeating on your other leg.

He liked to make a show of how he did it. Slow and teasing. He brought the fabric up to just below your knees and ran his hands up your thighs as he kept his eyes on yours, “Doesn’t mean Daddy won’t want to play with you, though. Pussy’s so good for me s’hard to resist. Maybe we’ll have you in my lap again. Let you sit on my cock right in front of all your friends. And you’ll be a good girl just like last time and keep quiet and not shift all around. How’s that sound? Wanna warm Daddy’s cock tonight when the time is right?”

You nodded and grinned, “Oh my god… I loved it when we did that so much. Love that no one knew except you, Daddy.”

By the time Harry had helped you into your panties, you were already slick from the dirty things he was saying to you and the way he was running his thumbs so close to your pussylips but just missing where you wanted to be touched.

You were meeting friends out for trivia night at the little pub that served the best pizza in town. Harry had his hand wrapped around yours as you both greeted everyone and sat at the booth with them all.

You weren’t sure how it would be possible to cock warm Harry given how many people were smushed into the booth with you both but when he pulled you into his lap, grunting, “S’not enough room, get up in m’lap,” you understood he wasn’t going to let you worry about all that. Harry was in charge. He would figure out how it would work. All you had to do was sit there, perched on his lap looking pretty.

He didn’t make a move to undo his pants or adjust you at all, first just feeling everyone out as you sat with your plush bottom over his thighs and ordered your vodka lemonade.

When the cards were all passed out and the trivia questions began to pop up on the screen everyone had their teams ready. All your friends knew better than to ask which team you wanted to be on because they already knew your answer would be that you were on whatever team Harry was on.

Maybe it was a little pathetic but you honestly didn’t care. He was the love of your life and your best friend. He loved you so much and treated you like you were the best thing that’d ever happened to him and so of course you were going to choose to be with Harry. Even if it was just for a trivia game at a bar.

His big palm splayed across your bare thigh as he whispered into your ear, “I love you.” You wiggled into him and turned to whisper back, “Love you, Daddy.”

It was sickening to everyone around you but also kind of cute in a way. You two were that couple. PDA was part of the package deal if they wanted to hang out with you. The first six months everyone kind of laughed it off. They said you two would chill out once the honeymoon phase was over. But here you were nearly 2 years later and if anything you two were even more touchy-feely.

Trivia nights were once a month. Harry liked to make sure you were spending time with other people and not just him. He wanted you to have friends and get out as much as you could.

When the game started and the pizza was plated you felt Harry’s arm slide around the front of your waist as you wrote down the answer that was discussed between your team. You were always the one in charge of writing down the answers.

“Take it easy on that vodka lemonade, Princess. Need you to have your wits about you when we get home. Okay?”

You nodded and turned to whisper in his ear, cupping around the back of it so no one could read your lips, “When are you gonna stuff me with your big cock, Daddy? Want you inside of me.”

Harry grunted and pinched your thigh shushing at you before he gulped down the last of his water. Harry didn’t drink when you two went out if he was driving. He let you drink but he didn’t like to have any alcohol in his system if he was going to be behind the wheel.

When the game was nearly coming to an end and your team was winning the final round the final category was music, as usual. 30 seconds of a song you had to guess was played for 10 songs. You could double your points if you knew both the name of the artist and the name of the song.

This was the part of the night when the people were boozed up and laughing.

Mel, who was sitting to Harry’s left tapped his arm, “Gotta go take a leak, mind if I scooch out?”

You and Harry had to move to let Mel out but when you both got back into the booth you scooted further in and realized Harry’s cock was solid under your bum. You leaned forward, putting your elbows onto the table, and felt Harry spread your skirt over his lap before he lifted his hips and the next song to guess came over the speakers.

You were distracted by Harry’s movements so you weren’t taking note of the song at all until Gessie poked your wrist with her finger, “So I think that was Bruce Springsteen. But what’s the song?” She snapped her fingers and looked at the other person who was on your team. As the pair were discussing which song it could be you felt the warm, stiff flesh of Harry’s dick under your thigh and you lifted just a bit to blurt out the name of a song you thought of off the top of your head, “Glory Days?”

Your panties were pulled to the side before you felt Harry’s fingers slip through your puffy, wet folds and then he pulled at your hips to draw you back toward him, only this time instead of sitting on his lap, you slowly, slowly slid over his cock. Your skirt was covering him and everything happening underneath.

You sighed when you had him stuffed inside of you and he panted softly into your ear, “Don’t wiggle around too much. Just sit still like a good girl.”

See, wiggling too much might have Harry coming. It’d happened before. The first time you cock warmed him in public (yes, there were multiple occurrences) you were so turned on and flustered that you kept swaying back and forth and squeezing around him. And he tried holding you in place but the whole experience of doing something like that in public was new for both of you. You were both excited and it didn’t help that you were pulsing around him and softly moaning.

When he came he had to act like you’d elbowed him in the gut when someone asked if he was okay. His pained expression and groan were easily played off as something rather innocent.

But Harry preferred coming inside of you only when it was an appropriate time. Usually in private but sometimes in the sex club you both frequented. You did have an exhibitionism kink so fucking at the sex club while others watched was welcome. But not at a local bar during trivia night.

When Mel returned you and Harry didn’t need to move as he sat at the end. You struggled to write down the last few answers as you began to pant softly and felt the liquid from your pussy dribble down.

“I’m gonna get your pants all messy, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

Harry rocked his hips up and you gasped as he adjusted your seating and pulled you closer, “It’s fine baby. You’re doing so good for me.”

And as much as you loved the thrill of secretly cock warming Harry like you were, there was always the issue of parting. If anyone was sat too close they’d see Harry’s cock in all its glory once you removed yourself from him. So you had to be careful about how it was done. Normally you’d order one last drink just as everyone else was paying their bill and getting ready to leave, that way when you two were the last to leave no one really wondered why since you still had a full drink to get through.

And that’s what you did this time as well. Mel hung around for a bit and you just hoped he couldn’t tell you were practically trembling from the way Harry’s cock was splitting you in half right in front of the guy as he yammered on about his job with Harry.

Your skin was hot and you were nearly drooling into your vodka lemonade at the way it felt.

You could tell Harry was at his wits end as well. You’d feel him throb every now and then. The small grunts he’d let out were also a good signal that he was struggling just as much as you were.

The moment Mel slid out of the booth and waved goodbye Harry’s hand was up, motioning to the waiter to ask for the bill for you two. He held your hips and rocked upward a couple of times before he began to pull out of you, “Nice and easy. Oop, stop right there,” he tightened a hand on your hip to keep you steady as he slid his pants up and kept your skirt covering the action.

You were a wobbly, sighing mess of a girl as he got you into his car and took you home.

“Daddy’s gonna take care of you baby. Gonna take away that achiness inside, yeah?” He spoke to you as you were pulled into the house before he lifted you up and carried you to the bed.

You were in a hurry. You needed him right then as you whined and began to pull at your panties but Harry swatted at your thigh, “Let Daddy do it. You just lie there and look pretty for me. My little Princess doesn’t need to lift a finger.”

That was the norm. He preferred you to lay comfortably all spread out underneath him while he did all the work.

He loved the sight of you. Your skin was hot and your limbs were already shaking with need by the time he finally began to lick your pussy. Soft strokes with his tongue only got you even more worked up and had you whimpering and fussing about, “P… please! Daddy!!”

Harry grinned into your pussy, pushing his briefs down his muscled thighs, lips wrapped around your clit as you bucked up into him and pulled at his hair. You were a mess. You needed one thing and one thing only.

“Daddy I need your cock, now!! I’m gonna die if I don’t get it! Oh my god, you’re so mean!”

You felt puffs of air against your wet slit as he laughed and looked up at you, “You’re going to die are you? Wow. That sounds like it’s bad, baby. Tell Daddy what he did that was mean,” he leaned over you, his strong arm reaching over your body to knead at your tits.

You pouted and lifted your head to look at him. You hadn’t even realized he’d already removed his briefs so he was fully naked, cock thick and hard between his thighs, “You… you’re not giving me your dick. And I need it.”

Another breathy laugh fell from his lips, “But I was licking your pussy. Making sure you were ready for me, Princess. Can’t just fuck my pretty girl without her little pussy hole being ready first now can I?”

You sniffled and kept the sad pout on your face so he knew you meant business.

Harry moved his hand up to your chin and squeezed your cheeks, “Don’t pout. Daddy always gives his pretty girl exactly what she wants. Doesn’t he?”

You nodded with a whine.

“That’s right. So don’t be a dramatic bellyaching brat with me. I’m just loving on you, Princess. Trying to take care of you the best I can. You’re hard to please sometimes.”

“Am not!” You countered, your words smushed together as you said them.

Harry let go of your cheeks and you felt him knee up between your legs, his thick masculine thighs pushed against the insides of your thighs as he smoothed his thumb over your mound and down to your clit, “You are. But that’s okay. Because you’re my little princess, aren’t you? She needs her Daddy to take good care of her.”

You began to take shallow breaths into your lungs as you watched him wrap his big hand around his cock and look into your eyes as he reared back, “And Daddy always gives his pretty girl what she wants. Do you know why, baby?”

You sighed as you felt the tip of him press against your empty hole. You wanted it so bad you could taste it, “Because I’m a good girl. Cause you love me, Daddy.”

“Fucking right, Princess. Daddy loves you,” he pressed into you, the girth of him opening your channel in one satisfyingly agonizing plunge. He didn’t snap his hips, but he drove into you until he was finally surrounded, encased fully in your pussy. And as he pulled you close to his chest he continued rocking into you with slow, languid strokes. Full length. He’d pull out to his tip and fuck back into you without pause until he met your cervix and he’d do it again. Nothing hard or fast. Just strong, deep, and teasingly slow.

His breath was on your face as he looked down into your eyes, “God… how’d I get so lucky, huh? Someone who needs me just as much as I need her.” He rolled into you slowly, the sopping mess between your legs just proving his point.

He fucked you dumb most nights. But some nights he was tender and warm. Sometimes he liked to take it slow and gaze into your eyes as he slid himself in and out of you, calling you his princess, his pretty girl, baby…

“Mm… me too!” You breathed out, “So lucky, Daddy. I love you…”

He dropped his lips to your neck as he continued fucking into you at the same pace he had been. Dripping wet, sticky, deep thrusts as you both panted.

You began to buck your hips upward to meet each of his thrusts. You couldn’t help the motion your hips were making as you moaned when Harry took your breast into his mouth.

He sucked on your nipple and felt your cunt squeezing him tight. You were so close already, like he knew you would be. You’d gotten all worked up cock warming him earlier and now you were gagging for it.

“You’re like a little slip-and-slide, pretty girl. Pussy all slippery and soaking wet just for my cock.”

“Uhnnnghh…” you groaned as you felt your insides begin to tingle and sparkle.

“You can come, Princess. Come on Daddy’s cock. I know you want to,” he panted, his own orgasm about to burst, “Easy there…”

You began to shake, your tummy tensed and your pussy clamped down as you sputtered out your words, “Coming! C… ffffuuu… Daaaaady!”

The beautiful spiral of your orgasm wiped you out as Harry continued fucking into you, his cock spreading your walls apart as you spasmed over him, “Pretty girl… so fucking good for Daddy…”

But he could only last so long himself until he was pinning you to the bed with his hips, cock buried deep as he dumped his fertile come into your pulsing hole, “Fuck! Fuck… oh shit…” his face twisted up in bliss.

It had been a bit of a quickie. But who could blame you? After suffering through what you had to during trivia, you both needed relief.

You ran your fingers into his hair and he nuzzled into your neck with a sigh. You both needed a minute to gather your bearings.

When you felt Harry shifting and pulling back so he could look down at you he slid a hand around to your bottom, “Let’s go get your cookies, baby,” he squeezed at your bum as you sat up.

“How many can I have?” You bounced on your bottom before you began to scoot to the end of the bed to hop off.

“As many you want, Princess.”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! 2nd part is a Patreon exclusive and is already on Patreon now! Consider joining if you'd like to see more!

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1800titz · 2 months ago

Text

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ — ᴘᴇᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ (ꜱᴏꜰᴛ)

ROLL OVER | boyfriend!Harry (couples costumes gone wild)

The dalmatian/fire fighter duo runs a little deeper in the bedroom after the party.

★₁₈₊

ROLL OVER as the final installment to the KINKTOBER projects. Based on this ask.

If you enjoy this, consider checking out my patreon masterlist, constantly being updated, with loads of exclusive content. If you would like to see the other KINKTOBER projects, do so here.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: couple's costume gone wild. pet play (soft). soft dom. praise. leashing. collars. use of "puppy" as a pet name (pun unintended). oral (f to m). dumbification. dom/sub undertones.

WC: 1.7K

“Yeah,” Harry breathes and shifts his hips with a subtle flex that nudges a little more of him past your lips, cradling you close by the shape of your jaw and petting his palm across your heated cheek.

You swallow, nostrils flaring, and you let the congealed dust— of this particular disposition— across your lashes lure you under a little harder. Let it crush you under the soporific wave of its gravity.

But you don’t miss the way he swallows, tugs a little harder on the polypropylene end of the dog leash wrapped taut around the knobs of his naked knuckles, and purrs, “Such a good girl, puppy.”

You blink up at him. At the unstilted paradigm of your insatiable hunger (eating, eating, still so hungry for him); bare stomach flexing, shoulders swelling, jawbone tucked and face ducked to watch you swallow around him. Watch and feel you work your little tongue in crescent shapes against the underside of his cockhead.

You’re drooling. Slobbering, like a needy, little puppy, and your spit dribbles across between the wedges of your knuckles, where you cup him around the base and squeeze every time he throbs.

It’s good. It’s really, really good.

He sprawls back against the chair but keeps his chin tipped. Staring down at you— the way your lips suction around him and the way your eyes pool under your fluttery lashes with a dew. Inkpools unwavering. Unrelenting.

His shirt is discarded, so all his ink is on show. The way it breathes alive under the tension of his musculature, his rippling abdomen when you dip the tip of your tongue into the slit on his head; moving, dancing over his skin.

It feels dirty. Borderline gaudily pornographic; you, on your knees in that careful nook between his split thighs, with his suspenders dangling across his lap. The big, utility boots on his feet, either side of your haunches. The pried zipper on a set of work trousers, slouching low on his hips, multi-faceted into a costume.

He’s heavy on your tongue. Takes up too much room in your mouth. Leaking and throbbing when you duck your head to take him just a little deeper, a little more.

“Christ,” Harry murmurs. It sounds a little dark. Hardly over a whisper— you make a wet, ugly sound around him and blink back up.

From your angle, there’s this pastiche of sovereignty to him. Like blue-collar regalia; half-shed firefighter’s rig, shape of his face chiseled in self-possessed stolidity—

Save for his eyes, the little cinch in his jawbone. The glint in the charcoal vats, the sharp carve your lips make, the way it wobbles when his teeth grind together a little harder. Your tongue seeps out over your lower lip when you take a deep breath through your nose, open wide, and take him nearly to the root.

The sound that crawls out of Harry is so battered that all you can do is claw into the fabric on the apex of his thighs and let your eyes screw.

His cockhead bludgeons at the gummy lining on the back of your throat, and you’re sure the phlegm is collapsing in little broken pieces like a mirror shattering under the weight of a hammer. Spuming out over his face in creases and rapture. But you can’t look.

All you can do is try to swallow around him when the hand that was on the side of your face glues to the back of your crown, his fingers tangling into your hair. His knuckles bleach a little whiter with the strain of the leash, the way he holds you in place.

(When his palm moves, it smudges one of the little tar-black spots you painted on with a brush, across your temple.)

You can hear that he’s groaning, pressing himself into you and folding praise in with the shape of his fingers scratching at the back of your skull. Things like, “Yeah— fuck— just like that, sweet girl,” in rich husks that simmer across your porous bones and trickle when your shoulders shake. When your toes curl under you. But he holds the leash a little tighter for the angle, and the makeshift collar around your throat gets a little more taut—

Really, it’s all his fault.

Taunting, Can’t be my proper puppy without— the lead he delicately clipped onto the cheap, old hot topic choker you dug out of the closet to use as a collar. The way that he kept his knuckles wrapped over the handle and his knuckles in his pocket at the party. Toting you around like a pet, keeping you rooted to his side when he settled. Tucked to the swell of his massive shoulder.

The way he told you to stay like a dog when he went off to refill your drinks, the way he patted your head upon return to find your soles glued to the same spot. Scratching behind your ear derisively, fingertips riling a shudder across your shoulders.

Such a good girl, you are, saturated in artificial, satirical delight. Corners of his mouth curling, the jeer dripping off the corners of his eyes.

(Here’s your treat.)

It started as a joke. Mocking for the sake of watching the heat froth under your skin, across your cheekbones, the ruckled bridge of your nose. Faux praises and the condescending gravity of the lead across the base of your neck. The subtle tug into an isolated pigeonhole of a docility that soaked across the crown of your head.

The mushroomed ridges of his tip bludgeon a splutter out from between your sopping lips, and more saliva oozes out and trickles across your tacky, wet fingers.

You need to hear it again, need to hear him say it, that itch festering in the noxious tangle of your arousal when you rise on your haunches a touch to duck your chin and press your nose to the wiry smattering of hair bedding around the root of his cock—

“Fuck,” Harry drawls. Guttural, heated—

Varicolored phosphenes fleck behind your lids like constellations in the yawn of a mesmeric, caliginous sky.

“You’re so good, sweetheart,” he grunts, hums, hips tensing and canting up into the wet heat of your mouth like it’s an undiluted reflex to an itch, feeding his cock deeper— “Gonna cum down this pretty, little throat f’you keep sucking my cock like that.”

You rest both palms on his thighs. Twist your fingers into the fabric until it’s soggy with spit. Gag around the swell of him until he wrenches you back with his fingers under the collar, at your nape, and leaves you sputtering for air with your neck craned. When you blink your lashes apart, your eyes are wet. Bleary. Burning like the back of your tongue, the soft lining at the back of your mouth, where the only place left to cram further is down into your esophagus.

He looks like a hedonistic cover page for a pornographic issue.

The coarse strip of dark hair from his navel pools in the bed of curls nesting the hilt of his cock, and his thighs are split in this kingly way that makes you dizzy. It’s vertiginous, staring up at him from your knees. Meaty shoulders, one burnt umber curl hanging to eclipse an eyebrow, and his cock is so spit-slick. Wet, and shimmery, and stupidly thick, sealed in his fist. Throbbing. Your spit puddles off onto his heavy sack, the sodden fabric wrenched apart by the zipper, and you watch a little, pearlescent bead drool off the tip when he squeezes and twists his palm up.

“Want it in your mouth?” Harry muses. It’s a subconscious maneuver; canting forward on the hinges of your joints with your swollen lips parted as he drags the pad of his thumb across the blurting pre-cum and smears it over his frenulum. “Want it bad, don’t you?”

The way he pulls on the end of the lead isn’t sharp. It’s subtle, but it corners you into nestling your mouth against his cock. Against the swollen shaft, cockhead pulsing and leaking out over the sloping bridge of your nose.

“Beg,” he tells you. It’s soft. The wisp of a breath; a sigh when you smush your cherry mouth to the little vein that rides up the underside and turns baby blue beneath the crown.

But it’s chock-full of the command given to an animal— beg, and I’ll give you a treat. It makes you sizzle down to your marrow. His lips curl loosely into a lazy grin. So debauched, around the shape of his cock, coated in your own saliva, pressed to your face.

“Go on,” he smiles, “Let me hear you whine for it. Show me what a needy, little puppy you are.”

The words sink into your underbelly and leave your hands cresting for surface-purchase under the spindrift. They slip to his knees, and tangle into the fabric there as your lashes flutter.

“Please,” you breathe, mouthing the word along the shape of his cock. Your lashes are still fluttering. Batting. You scootch forward a little, scratching into the firm muscle under the nomex, and let him smear his shaft across the tip of your nose, tarnishing the borders of the snout you painted on.

He hums. His thumb catches on the corner of your mouth, just as you start to paste an open-mouthed, suckling kiss onto the underside of the root. Your tongue smudges out against his sack.

He’s unconvinced— you watch it in the way his brows notch, hear it in the rumble that stems from his chest when he grips his cock by the hilt and taps it against you. “Come on, baby. I know you can do a little better than that. Really work for it, hm?”

“Please,” you say, rocking your hips. “Want it bad. Wanna keep sucking you. Please, please.”

A hand tucks into your hair. The fingertips there scratch into the spot behind the shell of your ear softly, and the sensation draws a shudder over your shoulders. You feel on fire. Molten, under the weight of his gaze, the unresistant pressure on the lead, the patronization that trickles off his tone.

“Go on, then, puppy,” Harry murmurs, finally, and loosens the white-knuckled, taut grip on the leash enough for you to clamber back, “Take me back into your mouth.”

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thecuriousbeauty · 2 months ago

Note

rough sex, size kink, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, etc. (don't judge me, I'm ovulating) ah, and I also love your writing

Rough- Harry Styles x reader (Smut blurb)

A/N:- Hey anon, thanks for the request! So sorry it took so long, I was on a little holiday:) Hope you love this!

Warnings: Everything in the ask! Pure filth. Smut. Fingering, degradation, light spanking, penetration(p in v), choking.

Word count: 1.6K

______________________________________________

You had pushed all his buttons. And now, he was fuming as he drove back home with you, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

To be fair, it was Harry who had to ditch your plans together because a meeting came up. He had been so busy lately, and he’d promised you that he’d spend the whole day with you. Although it wasn’t his fault, he didn’t hold up on the promise and he had to go away till the evening. Of course he apologized and told you he’d make up for it, but you decided to tease him a little in return.

When Harry was back, he wanted to take you to a fancy dinner but you said you just wanted to go out for drinks and that’s what you did. You wore a short silver dress that hugged your curves beautifully and the length stopped just right below your ass. You didn’t talk to him on the way. As soon as you got to the club, you went to the dance floor and started swaying your hips and your ass. Harry leaned on the bar stool, looking at you.

He understood that you were pissed, so he just kept quiet. Until, you started flirting with another guy. It got so intense, he started rubbing against your ass from behind and you just giggled, enjoying how Harry’s eyes were burning as he watched it. He walked to the dance floor and threw the man off of you by his collar.

“Woah! What the hell man?”

“Hands off my girlfriend.”, Harry growled at him, and you tugged on his shirt. “Harry!”

“Geez I didn’t know she’s taken!”

And that’s how you were now sitting in the passenger’s seat of the car, arms folded across your chest while he drove you home. Harry didn’t say anything, which only made you anxious. Had you taken it too far? You just wanted to get him angry enough so he would rough you up a little.

You were gonna rush up the stairs and to bed but Harry wrapped his hand around your hair, tugging it back, making you wince. “Not so quickly, sweetheart. You think I’m just gonna ignore that little act you pulled?” Harry’s deep voice rasped in your ear.

“Y-You were being mean to me.”, you pout, gasping as he tugs you to his body, wrapping an arm around your waist and tightening his hold on your hair, making you lean your head back on his shoulder.

“I was not. I apologized, I told you I’d make up for it. But no, you had to go and be a brat to get my attention.”

As much as his hold on your hair hurt, you couldn’t help but smirk at how riled up he was, and you could see in his eyes how badly he wanted you.

“Well guess what, baby? You’ve got all my attention now.” He dips his head down, lips finding the sweet spot on your neck and you moan softly, moving a hand to his hair to tug on his luscious soft curls. His hand moved from your hair to lift up your dress and land a smack to your ass.

You jerked forward, but his arm around your middle kept you in place. “Did I tell you could touch me?”, he asks, gripping the flesh of your ass.

“No daddy..”, you moan, loving the sting from the slap but also how wet the thought of a punishment made you.

“That’s what I thought. You are not to speak or touch me until I say so, got it?”

“Yes.” You nod, yelping as his hand comes down again on the same spot he hit. “Yes, daddy.”, you correct yourself.

He hums, yanking down the zipper of your dress and pulling it down your sides. “Fucking short little dress, putting on a show for everyone. Don’t worry, daddy’s gonna remind you who you belong to.”

He tugs off your bra before cupping your right breast and connecting your lips. You moan into his mouth as his tongue explores your mouth, and you’re tempted to touch his body, snake your hands under his shirt, feel his sculpted body under your hands.

“Daddy..”, you whined, feeling his hardness against your ass.

“I don’t think you deserve my cock. You were being a little whore today, weren’t you?”, he taunts, pinching one of your nipples.

“Sorry daddy, let me m-make you feel better.”, you say, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

“Shut up.”, he gives your breast a light slap before his fingers pull on the material of your thong. “This fucking thing barely hides your pussy.” He ripped it off, making you gasp. He was quick to stuff his fingers into your mouth, and the two fingers of his other hand slipped into your wet hole.

“I didn’t even do anything and you’re dripping wet.”, he says, sciscoring his fingers inside of you at a fast pace, making you squeal around his fingers in your mouth. He pushes them in further, hitting the back of your throat making you gag and your eyes water.

“I think you forgot who owns your pussy. You’ll let daddy destroy your little pussy, won’t you?”

You nod fervently, your saliva sputtering around his fingers. He curls his fingers inside your vagina, hitting your g-spot repeatedly. “Fucking little slut. Do you want to cum?”

He removes his fingers from your mouth and presses his hand to your lower stomach, keeping you in place as you squirmed. Your legs were shaking and you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand. “Y-Yes daddy.”, you cry out, your toes tingling and your vision already going blurry with the amount of pleasure.

“Ask nicely.”, he hisses, biting your ear lobe.

“Please, p-please daddy I’ll be good, please let me cum. I-I’ll be your good girl, I’m s-sorry!” You scream as his thumb applies pressure to your clit, rubbing quick circles. “Go on, cum all over daddy’s fingers.”

By the time you’re back on earth after the amazing orgasm you just had, Harry has you on the couch on all fours, giving you barely enough time to recover as he slides his cock inside your sensitive pussy.

“Shit, always so tight.”, he curses, fingers digging into your hips. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you like a whore. I know that’s what you like.”

You scream as he starts to thrust his hips, his cock hitting deep inside you. It felt so good. He filled you up incredibly. His huge dick came crashing into your walls and you could do nothing but cry out in pleasure.

“You think that guy has a bigger cock? Can he fuck you like this? Make you cry?”, Harry leans down to ask in your ear. You can’t answer, your vagina trying to envelop him and at the same time, press him out.

“Answer me.”, he gruffs, one of his hands coming up to wrap around your throat and lift your face up.

“N-No, no daddy..”, you whimper and choke as he pulls up your upper body by your neck, and he adjusts himself so his cock hits a deeper angle. “Who’s the only one who can fuck you like this hm?”

“You, daddy. Y-You fuck me so good..” You were nearing your release again. “M-May I cum? P-Please daddy?”

“Yes.”, he slaps your ass, hard. He moans and throws his head back in pleasure as he feels your warm juices coat his pulsating dick. He’s flipping you around onto your back, holding your knees apart and slamming into you again.

You whine from the over sensitivity. “D-Daddy I-I can’t..it’s too much.”

“You can, you’ll take it like a good girl. I know you can.”, he says, looking down at your stomach to see the dent his dick was making from inside. His eyes move to your face, looking at your smeared mascara and plump red lips, then moving to your breasts.

“So fucking pretty like this.”, he says, bending down to brush his lips against the corner of your mouth. “You can touch me, baby.”

Your hands immediately travel to his hair and his back to pull him closer to you. You were already as close as you could be, but you wanted him impossibly closer. His curly hair was messy and cheeks flushed from your activities, but he looked beautiful.

“I-I love you.”, you whisper, and he kisses you. You cling to him as he was the only solid thing around you, and he was the only one whom you trusted with your entire being. “I love you too, sweet girl.”, he whispers and presses his forehead against yours.

“Want your cum inside me daddy, fill me up.”, you say, clenching around him as you know he’s close.

“Fuck, just like that, baby, you take me s-so well.”, he moans. You cum again from the feeling of him filling you up, and Harry collapses over you as you both recover from your highs. The only noise in the room was of your heavy breaths.

Harry lifts his head to look at you, your closed eyes fluttering open as he taps your cheek. “You okay darling? Was I too rough?”

“I’m okay, it was p-perfect. Just tired.”, you tell him, smiling softly as he presses a sweet kiss to your cheek “I’ll run you a bath, get you something to eat and then we can go to sleep.”

You hum. “Sounds good.”

Harry stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Hey, I really am sorry about today, love.”

“It’s okay! All forgiven after that.”, you giggle and he grins, shifting to lay beside you so he could pull you into his arms. “Maybe I should make you angry more often.”

“Oh yeah?”, he smiles amused, pressing kisses to your face as you laugh. “My naughty little minx.”

______________________________________________

Taglist:-@livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777,@madstyles3204, @youngpastafanmug, @fruity-harry (Lemme know if you want me to add your name to the taglist!)

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gucciforasushirestaurant · 2 months ago

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Kinktober №1 | Punish Me

summary: harry hasn't been the most attentive boyfriend and asks for a very specific punishment to make it up to you.

word count: 1.6k

read time: 7 min

content warning ⚠️: slight angst, mentions of harry being a neglectful boyfriend, cunnilingus, fingering, face sitting, softdom!harry, d/s undertones, pet names (babe, baby, love, good girl), light spanking (if you squint)

a/n: welcome to kinktober! sorry they are coming out late. hope you enjoy this little festival of kink!

👻Kinktober 2024 masterlist👻

It’s felt like it’s been an eternity since you've been this close to Harry. You’ve missed these moments. Being wrapped up in one another, teeth clashing, hands groping, mind on nothing else but the other. You needed this, so you savor every stroke of his tongue, and every nibble on your lip.

What started as an innocent good night kiss before bed, has turned into this, and now you’ve lost track of time. Completely consumed with one another, Harry rolling his hips into yours, while you moaned, enjoying the weight of him on top of you.

“I want to try something.” Harry pants, pulling away from your lips, but resting his forehead against yours.

“Yeah?” you whisper absentmindedly, chasing his lips for another kiss. He pulls away at the last second, caressing your cheek. He looks down at your lips, before his eyes meet yours.

“I want you to sit on my face.” he whispers, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“What-” you stutter. You couldn't have heard him correctly. But he’s staring at you with a hopeful smirk, biting at his bottom lip and you know you didn’t mishear him. “Like sit, sit?” you clarify, and he chuckles with a nod.

“Yes, baby. Sit, sit.”

“But…I’m heavy.”

“No you’re not.” Harry kisses your lips, before kissing along your jaw, with a smirk. “I just…I want to do something for you. I’ve been,” he sucks on your favorite spot along your jaw, just below your ear, “less than attentive lately, which is just not like me. So,” he works his way down your neck, dragging his teeth along your jugular, sucking when he's found where your breath hitches. “I want you to punish me.” he smirks, as he hears your breath hitch. But still you don’t answer, just roll your hips into Harry’s as he works on your neck. After he’s sure he’s left a mark, satisfied with your sounds he raises his lips to the shell of your ear, and whispers, “Come on. Are you going to make me beg?” you whine, and he chuckles, “‘Cuz I will.”

Harry returns his kissing, down your neck, to down your chest, kissing along as he lowered himself between your legs. He makes sure to give extra kisses to your belly, sucking at the skin on each of your hips. “Please.” he drags his lips across your pantie line, leaving wet spongy kisses just above your mound. “Pretty Please.” He pulls your legs further apart, getting comfortable between them. You shiver as his breath brushes over your clothed pussy. He kisses each of your inner thighs, kissing from the juncture of your knee, to the edge of your panties “Pretty, pretty please.” he smirks.

“Okay.” you nod with a smile, covering your face in your hands.

“Yeah?” he smiles.

“Yeah. I’ll try it.”

“Thank you, baby.” Harry smiles, kissing the front of your panties, before running his fingers along the edge of your panties, “But first ... .Can I have a taste?” he asks, pulling your panties aside.

“Yes, please.”

“Thank you.” he smirks, as he licks a broad stripe up your folds. He moans at the first taste of you on his tongue. He gives you a few more wet big strokes with his tongue, when he begins running a hand through your folds. “You're so wet baby.” he praises, just before wrapping his lips right around your clit, lightly sucking it into his mouth.

“Oh, god. Harry -” you moan, tossing your head back and flying to Harry’s hair.

“Good?”

“So good.”

He continues his work on your pussy, licking, and sucking sloppily, lapping at your folds like it’s his last meal. You can feel yourself getting close, with each swipe of his tongue.

“You taste so good babe.” he moans into you.

“Harry -” you gasp, gripping the back of Harry’s head as you push yourself further into his mouth, “Oh, there.”

He doubled his efforts, messily licking at your clit, and drawing it into his mouth. You feel yourself getting closer, and just as you're about to cry out, and reach your peak you feel his fingers breach your walls.

“Fuck!” you moan, releasing his hair, in favor of the sheets. You bring your arm over your mouth, biting into the soft flesh of your forearm as your pussy begins to pulse around his digits.

“Good girl. Come on.” Harry mumbles against you, curling his fingers up inside you. He begins stroking at your g-spot, applying just enough pressure, and before you have a chance to catch your breath, you come apart on Harry’s tongue and fingers. Harry moans, into you licking you through your orgasm extending it that much longer, sending shivers through your body.

Eventually he slows to a stop, giving your swollen clit a soft peck, as he begins kissing up your body, to your lips. You moan into the kiss, enjoying the taste of yourself, on his tongue.

Harry pulls away, looking down at you proudly, as he stroked your side.

“You ready?” he husks, kissing your nose.

“Um-yeah.” you sigh, still trying to catch your breath. You quickly look away from Harry, but he draws his fingers under your chin and forces you to look back at him.

“Hey, if you really are uncomfortable with it, we don’t have to.” he says, with soft eyes.

“No. I want to-” you rush out, “I’m just scared of hurting you.”

He smirks, kissing each of your cheeks, “You won’t. I promise.”

He rolls over onto his back adjusting a pillow behind his head. He turns to you with a warm smile, “Come here.”

You roll on top of him, straddling his hips, hesitantly plant your hands on his chest, “Hop on, Love.” he encourages. He takes your hand, lacing your fingers together to help you shimmy yourself above his face. You rest your hands, on the headboard, nervously hovering your pussy over Harry’s face. He wraps his arms around your thighs, “Baby. I said sit.” He demands, with a slight huff, as he pulls you down by your thighs, forcing you to sit on his tongue.

“Harry!” you gasp, pulling up slightly, eyes locked on his.

“I’m fine, love.” he mumbles into you, pulling you closer to kiss your clit. You bring your hands to his hair, moaning out, “I promise it’s okay. Just relax.” he says as he begins to lap at your pussy.

With each swipe of his tongue across your folds and each pulse of his lips around the clit, you relaxed more and more on top of him. And with the moans coming from Harry, as he delved deep into you with his tongue, the last thing you were worried about was your weight ‘crushing’ him.

In fact, your weight on top of him that you worried so much about, seemed to be his biggest motivator. As the more of your weight you leaned on Harry, the more he moaned into you, and the more enthusiastic he got between your legs, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“There you go.” he praises, with a smirk into you, as you moan out a series of curses. You lace your fingers deeper into his hair, pulling lightly at the root. “Oh, good girl.” He groans.

You moan, looking down at Harry below you. That one look at him had you wondering why it has taken you so long to do this in the first place. At this angle, Harry was a sight. A man crazed, eyes full of lust, and hair wild from you pulling at it. You were mesmerized by Harry. And he was completely consumed by you. You were all he could taste on his tongue. All he could feel was the sting of your hands in his hair pulling at the roots, and the weight of your on top of him. All he could hear was you, and the beautiful whines, and gasps that you make.

It was only a few moments, making eye contact with Harry, before you could feel your orgasm approaching. Your grip tightens in Harry’s hair as you begin to slowly rock yourself along Harry’s mouth, holding onto his head for leverage. Harry seemed to like that, as his grip tightened around your thighs and a deep groan ripped from his throat.

“Fuck, like that. Fuck my face, baby. There you go.” He groaned into you, the vibrations sending a shiver through you.

“Harry -” you cry out, thighs beginning to shake, tightening around his head, “I’m - oh god, there.” you shrek, as you feel that familiar knot in your lower belly begin to pull tighter.

When it finally snaps you come hard on Harry’s tongue, convulsing, and shaking on top of him. Your body shakes, eyes glued below you on his, as Harry’s head gets completely (and happily, you're sure), squished between your shaking thighs. He pushes against your resistance, holding your legs open with a tight grip of his large hands just enough, as he continues to lap at your folds through your orgasm.

His sucking on your clit comes down to a slow pulse as you come down from your orgasm. You lift up slightly to get away from the stimulation of Harry’s tongue, and lean forward on the headboard. Harry turns his head to the side, kissing each of your inner thighs.

“Shit.” you giggle, chest heaving.

“Good girl, baby.” he smiles lightly, spanking your ass with a quick swat, “I told you you’d like it, hm?”

“That was…I didn’t think… Wow.” you sigh, trying so hard to string together a sentence.

“Come here.” Harry smiles up at you. You adjust yourself, at Harry’s direction, and shimmy down his body, to curl into his chest. You lay your head on his chest, as Harry begins planting kisses along your hairline, a hand lightly running up and down your back.

“So, is this something you’d want to do again?” he asks into the dim light of your room.

You turn looking up at him, a blissful grin plastered on your lips. “Most definitely.”

✨masterlist✨ ∣ ✨yap & request box✨

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hsunrry · 2 months ago

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new side // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on this request.

|| masterlist ||

words: ~1,5k

warnings: smut18+, dirty talking (degradation, praise), dom!harry, hair pulling, chocking, spitting, oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

saturdays are your movie nights. as you two were snuggled together on the couch in his apartment, sex scene started playing. you were looking concerned at it, since it was rough and, well… dirty. something you and Harry never tried before. he noticed your expression and he looked at you. “hey, you okay?” his voice soft and caring. he knew himself and his dominant nature, but he never showed it quite yet to you, since he didn’t wanted to scare you off or something.

“yeah, i’m just… i don’t know, we never did it like that before.” you shrugged, trying to not show how arousing this was to you. he looked at the screen and then back at you, his eyes filled with lust. he knew exactly what you were feeling, he could see it in your eyes.

“would you like that?” he asked, tilting your chin up so you’d look at him.

“i don’t know, maybe? i never tried it like that, but…” you bite inside of your cheek. “i feel things when i’m watching it.” his heart raced as he listened to your unsure words. he looked back at the screen again, his eyes lingering on rough sex for few seconds.

“let’s try it then.” he smiled, his thumb tracing your jaw. “if you don’t like it, we can stop.”

“okay.” you smiled, feeling him picking you up immediately and going upstairs to the bedroom, completely forgetting about the movie. he kicked the doors shut behind him with his leg, placing you down on the bed right after. he climbed on top of you, his hands roaming over your body possessively. he leaned down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

“whenever you feel uncomfortable or you just want me to stop use the word ‘red’, okay?” you nodded quietly at his words, seeing something switching in his eyes at that, causing your body to get even hotter. he growled softly, his hand fisting in your hair and pulling your head back to expose your neck. he licked and bit at sensitive skin, leaving marks. his other hand roughly groped your breast through your shirt. small smile appeared on your lips when he did all of that. he looked at you with fire in his eyes, his touch growing more demanding. he tore off your shirt, buttons flying everywhere. his hands squeezed your naked flesh, since you didn’t had bra on yourself. his thumbs brushed over your nipples. “you like that, slut?” you only nodded, your breath getting heavier with his movements. he shook his head, his face darkening. “answer me. you like that?” his hands continued his rough assault, pinching your peaks hard.

“yes.” you gasped. he smiled approvingly. he sat up, taking his t-shirt off and standing up from the bed to unbutton his jeans, pulling them down along with his boxers. his hardened member sprang free. he gripped your arm, making you sit on the edge of the bed. he stood in front of you, his erection mere inches from your face. he tangled his fingers in your hair and gently but firmly guided you closer to it.

“open your mouth, slut. suck my cock.” his voice was low and commanding. you licked your lips, wrapping them around his dick. he moaned, his head falling back as your warm mouth engulfed him. he looked back down on you, his hand still in your hair. he began to rock his hips forward to match your movements. your pace quickened, making almost obscene noises as you took him to the hilt with your mouth. “you like that?” he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice thick with lust. “you like chocking on my cock?” you only managed to moan around him. he pulled out of your mouth, allowing you to breathe. you were breathing heavy, looking up at him. his hand gripped your chin, his thumb making you open your mouth again. he spit directly into it, his thumb smearing it across your lips. “i’m going to fuck your face now. take me like a good girl.” with that, he thrusts back into your mouth, immediately setting a brutal pace. your hand went on his hip to hold onto something and his hand went on yours to pin it to it. his other hand gripped your hair tightly, guiding your head to meet his powerful thrusts. the sound of your gagging filled the room, along with wet sounds and his moans. he locked his eyes with yours, his pupils dilated with lust. his jaw was clenched now as he watched your eyes watering. he grinned darkly, enjoying the sight. “you can take more, whore. you wanted this, yeah?” you managed to nod around him. he then redoubled his efforts, his hips moving forward brutally. he held your head still, forcing you to take his entire length down your throat. tears streamed down your face as you gagged and chocked on his cock, your throat constricting around him. “gonna fucking come, baby.” he panted, his head snapping back with loud moan when he finally reached his peak. his body convulsed as he emptied himself in your mouth. he slowly pulled out, breathing heavy. he looked down at you, your face wet with tears and saliva. “swallow it all.” you quickly obeyed, licking your lips. he chuckled, wiping his softening dick on your cheek. “good girl. i knew you could handle it.” he stepped back, grabbing your arm and pulled you up. “now, let’s see what other holes i can ruin tonight.” he grabbed your panties, ripping them off with one swift motion. you gasped at that feeling. he pushed you back on the bed, spreading your legs wide apart. he climbed between them, his eyes roaming shamelessly over your pussy. “so wet for me.” he spat on it, spreading it with his fingers. “i’m going to fuck this cunt raw.” with one thrust he pushed two digits inside, knuckles deep, making you moan. he pumped them in and out, curling them to hit your g-spot. his thumb found your clit, rubbing firm circles. he leaned down, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. “beg for my cock, slut. i want to hear how badly you need it.”

“please Harry.” you moaned, when he started moving his fingers faster. he tutted disapprovingly.

“that’s not good enough. beg like you mean it.” he added third finger, stretching you wide. “beg or i’ll stop.”

“please, baby. i need your cock.” you whined, your hips bucking up. “i need you, fuck, please.”

“good girl.” he grinned, replacing his fingers with the head of his recovered erection. you both moaned as he pushed himself balls deep in one thrust. he gave you a moment to adjust before he started moving. his hips snapped back and forth, his breathing hot and heavy in your ear. his hands gripped your thighs, pulling you flush against him with each thrust. “so fucking good to me, best pussy.”

“oh my god.” you gasped, your back arching from intense pleasure.

“that’s right. fall apart for me.” his pace quickened. the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, mixed with your mutual moans and gasps. his hand sneaked around your throat, squeezing lightly, just enough to make you lightheaded. his other hand went on your clit, rubbing tight circles. “come on, cum for me. soak my cock.” he angled his hips, hitting that special spot with each powerful thrust. “be a good little fucktoy.”

“oh my fucking god.” you gasped as his hand around your throat tightened. his pace became punishing, his body slamming into yours. “i’m gonna come.”

“mmm, good.” he nipped at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. “scream it. let everyone know who you belong to.” he swelled inside you, his release nearing.

“Harry, fuck!” you cried out, squeezing his dick and squirting all over him. he moaned loudly, burying himself deep inside you. he came hard, his hot seed filling your pussy. he held you there, his cock throbbing inside you as he emptied himself completely.

“fuck, you’re mine. all fucking mine.” he panted. you were both breathing heavy. he slowly pulled out of you, his softening dick slipping free from your soaked cunt. he stood up. “stay like that.” you nodded, feeling him smacking your pussy and watching some of his cum leaking out. “such a good girl, took my load so well. i’m so proud of you.” he went to the bathroom, leaving you like that on the bed. your arm went over your eyes and you smiled to yourself. he cleaned himself up, returning to the room with warm washcloth. he laid down next to you, cleaning you gently. “so, did you enjoyed it that way? wasn’t it too rough?”

“it was good, i liked that.” you smiled, uncovering your eyes to look at him. he chuckled softly, touching your body delicately.

“good, because now i know you enjoyed it, it’ll happen more often.” he kissed your forehead.

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nottsangel · 5 months ago

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i’m having the worst brainrot thinking ab mean dom harry … he didn’t think he liked the idea of being mean to u during sex but he can’t stop when he hears how u react to his harsh words UGH

HARRY ugh i missed my baby !!!!!!!! harry never intented to be purposely mean to you, but you know, sometimes his irritation would get the better of him, causing him to lose his temper. as a result he’d snap at you and say harsh words that he’d instantly regret. however, to his biggest surprise, you didn’t even cry, yell back, or walk away angrily— you remained silent, a sly smile you tried to suppress creeping onto your face as you awkwardly fiddled with your hands. and that was the moment he found out about your degradation kink.

so now, during sex, harry takes advantage of that and releases all his pent-up anger when he’s pounding into you, his hand wrapped tightly around your throat. and it works for the both of you— he found a way to let go of all his rage from whatever annoyed him that day and you reach orgasms even quicker than ever before. it’s a win-win situation!

“so pathetic, aren’t you? i can feel you tighten around me every time i call you my dirty slut.” harry hisses, the tip of his cock hitting all the right spots within you as your sharp nails drag down his bare back. “you like it when i talk to you like this, hm?” he growls, and you nod eagerly. “y-yes harry, fuck! i love it!” a mischievous smirk spreads across his face as he tightens his grip around your neck, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “yeah? bloody hell, such a pathetic little whore for me— only for me.”

ੈ♡˳

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narrycherries · 8 days ago

Text

✰ baby honey ✰ #8 (part 1)

(dom!harry)

Harry let’s you come to the office with him..

masterlist

word count: 6.4k

warnings/tags: harry x reader, dom!harry, daddy k!nk, praise k!nk, smut, oral m receiving

There was a bit of excitement brewing as you squeezed Harry’s hand in the elevator. He was checking the time on his watch, somewhat ignoring your happy mood and bright grin. He decided the night before that he would allow you to accompany him to his office. You had an appointment you needed to be taken to later on in the day, so he figured it would be more convenient to have you with him. You were definitely thrilled to be getting out of the house. It had been a while since you last came to the company’s building. Usually Harry was extremely busy and he couldn’t tend to you, so you prefer to just stay at home and be comfortable.

When the elevator door opened, your eyes lit up as you saw the familiar floor. You saw his assistant sitting at his desk, jotting down something as he spoke on the phone. You saw another person you recognized and gave them a gentle wave. Harry didn’t pay anyone any attention as he gripped your hand and guided you towards his office door.

You caught his glance as he opened the door for you and gestured you in. A whimper left your mouth as he released your hand. You twirled around to face him, reaching for his waist. He let you grab him, but he easily gave you a stern lift of his brows.

“Baby love, remember what we talked about? You have to behave today.”

You pouted your lips out. “I will, I promise.”

“That includes not being a distraction, doll.” He gently took hold of your wrists and pulled your hands off. “I’ll tend to you during lunch, okay?”

“Lunch?” You frowned. “That’s in four hours.”

He sighed and shook his head. “Don’t start complaining, baby.”

“M’not complaining.”

Harry wasn’t in a very good mood, so he didn’t want to deal with your attitude. You rolled your eyes as he walked past you, not bothering to entertain your nonsense this morning. You watched as he sat down at his desk and immediately occupied himself with the computer. Despite being joyful about being out of the house, you knew there wasn’t much you could do here.

So, as usual, you found a spot on the leather couch placed against the wall and crossed your arms and legs. There was a throw blanket specifically there for you, but you didn’t grab it. Instead, you huffed and opted to fixate your stare on him. Harry was very serious about his work and he did not like to be interrupted or bothered while he was doing important business. You knew that all too well, yet you’ve tested your luck with him way more than just once.

His hair was perfectly sculpted and neat on his head. You chewed on your cheek as you thought about the quick orgasm you received before you got out of bed. Harry wanted to give you something to hold you over for the day. He was well aware that you got extra clingy and needy while you were with him in his office. It felt like he was teasing you by just sitting there and ignoring you - so close to you, but refusing to entertain your desires. That was a big reason why he preferred to not have you in the office. Not only was it torture for you, but he hated knowing you felt that way. It was easier to send you a text or a quick call to calm your nerves while he was working than it was to meet every one of your needs while together.

Even though you were gifted a treat this morning, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. His mouth sucking on your pussy, his tongue slurping around and poking into you, his cheeks hollowing around your clit. He gave you an incredible orgasm that made your entire body tingle. You didn’t notice your hand had fallen between your legs until there was a sudden blaring of the office phone ringing. You jerked your hand up and swallowed as you watched him talk on the phone. The words he was speaking didn’t make any sense to you. Your mind was so focused on his mouth that you couldn’t make out any sounds. His lips were moving, his tongue being exposed as he spoke, and his eyes had shifted up to meet yours.

After a few moments, he sat the phone down and licked his lips. “There’s donuts and stuff in the kitchen. Go get something to eat, love.”

“Okay.” You were a tad nervous, fearing you had been caught in your trance despite him not saying anything. He didn’t even notice. “Do you want something?”

“No, thanks.”

Your stomach did a flip as you realized he wasn’t standing up to join you. “You’re not coming with me?”

He smirked slightly and lifted a brow. “You know where to go.”

“Yeah, but..” Your voice trailed off while your eyes dropped to your feet.

“You’ll be alright, sugarplum. Go get something to eat, alright?”

It was disheartening to see his eyes move back to the computer monitor. You sucked on your cheek as you mustered up the courage to walk to the kitchen area by yourself. You knew the layout of this floor very well. There were the bathrooms, the storage rooms, the meeting rooms, Harry’s office, the kitchen style break room, and a few offices that belonged to Harry’s more important employees. You shook off the worry and made your way to the room. There were voices coming from the open door, and that made you somewhat nervous. The attempt to ignore those feelings was weak.

“Boss man is wanting this meeting to last a while.” One of the men said.

You slipped into the room and went to the counter. There was a spread of donuts, muffins, and fruit that were provided for breakfast. You gulped quietly as you grabbed a plate and began to scan over what you wanted to eat. You couldn’t help but to hear the conversation between the two men sitting at the small table drinking coffee. You recognized one of them as the chief marketing officer for Harry’s company, the other you weren’t sure of.

“He’s got plans for an expansion.”

The man you knew sighed. “He’s got big ambitions but he knows what’s right.”

“Oh, it’ll be worth it for sure, just a shit ton of work and headaches to get there.”

You chose to ignore the men as they began talking about business. Instead, your attention returned to the selection of donuts. You saw regular glazed, chocolate icing, some with sprinkles, and what appeared to be caramel coated. You smiled to yourself as you picked out a glazed and a chocolate one for yourself, then grabbed a caramel for Harry. Despite him saying he didn’t want anything, you wanted him to eat breakfast.

Harry’s eyes flicked to the door as you returned, the plate of donuts balancing on your palm. Your gaze locked on his while you crossed the room. He gently tilted his head back as you stopped in front of his desk. You sat the plate down and carefully laid out the single napkin you brought. He was intrigued by your quiet movements, not quite sure what you were up, to if anything.

When you placed the caramel donut on the napkin, you moved your eyes back to his and gave him a cute smile.

“I got this for you.”

“Thank you, sweetness. But I already ate.” A smirk toyed on his pink lips.

Blush rose to your cheeks as you playfully rolled your eyes. Just minutes ago you were replaying that event in your head.

“You need actual food.”

“Hmm.” His response was light.

It was difficult to think about anything other than him right now, but you were trying to keep your thoughts under control. Your goal today was to behave and not receive any sort of punishment. Harry watched as your eyes trailed down to the desk, you seemed out of it. He thought maybe you were just tired. A sigh pushed past his lips and he slid his chair backwards. You looked up and caught his eyes instantly.

“C’mere.” He motioned for you with a pat to his thigh.

A flutter erupted in your stomach as you sat down on his legs, his strong arm wrapping around you. There was a rule that was very clear and simple - don’t bother him while he’s working. He would give you attention when he had the time. Perhaps this was his way of easing the tension. It was clear that you were distracted by your mind, and he assumed he was the reason.

“I want you to be on your best behavior today, alright?” He said as he moved his palm up to cover your jaw.

You coiled your fingers around his wrist and nodded. “I know. I will.”

“Do good for me and I’ll make sure you get all the attention you want when we get home, baby.”

“Promise I’ll be good.”

He smirked, his lips placing a kiss to yours. “M’sure you will be, kitten.”

You almost weren’t fully aware of what was going on. Your eyes fell to his neck and you bit down on your bottom lip. Harry’s thumb rubbed over your skin, but you weren’t focusing on that.

“What’s the matter, baby doll?” His warm voice was deep and slow.

When you shook your head, he didn’t accept that as an answer. He squeezed your hip and moved his hand to the side of your neck. Your skin was hot and flushed, he noticed easily.

“Baby love, answer me.”

Your eyes darted to his as those specific words left his mouth. He knew that would get your attention. You shrugged while your fingers fell down his forearm, rubbing over his elbow before you let him go.

“It’s.. almost nine.. you have to start working.”

Harry was aware of the time. “I know.”

You pouted your lips out. “Just.. just don’t want to.. get in trouble.. by distracting you.”

“I asked you to come sit, didn’t I?”

For a second, you thought there was a trace of annoyance in his voice - but you were incorrect and simply just nervous. He licked his lips and let his hand glide up your waist.

“Yes.”

He gave you a smile. “Then you aren’t going to be in trouble, darling.”

“I.. I should leave you.. alone.”

Harry grunted when you moved to get up, he stopped you. “Baby, you’re fine. Nothing’s wrong, okay?”

You shook your head. “I.. I don’t want to get-“

He guided your head forward so that his lips could gently kiss the corner of your mouth, bringing you to silence. A whimper came from your mouth as he pecked your lips a couple of times, trying his best to make you calm down.

Before you could process it, his lips were moving in sync with yours and his tongue was flicking around in your mouth. You started to feel extremely greedy, but not for anything more intimate than this. You wanted to make sure he knew he was yours, you never wanted to let him go.

One set of your nails sunk into his nape while the other scratched through his scalp. The kiss became sloppy as it normally did, with spit slipping out of your mouths and smearing on your skin. You couldn’t focus on his crotch, you were too deep in your thoughts and this kiss. He was growing underneath you, but he knew he needed to refrain himself.

The phone began to ring yet again, breaking up the moment. Harry groaned and pulled his mouth from yours. You frowned, but knew you had no choice. He slid the chair up and leaned forward to grab the phone, all while his arm kept a tight grip on your body.

“Hello?”

You could hear a muffled voice but had no desire to know what was being said. If it was the office phone, that meant it was work related. Instead, you furrowed your brows to yourself as you attempted to piece his hair back together. You didn’t destroy it completely, but there were noticeable differences. His eyes were on you as you did so, wishing he could return to your lips but knowing he won’t be able to.

“Yeah, nine fifteen works. I’ll send the file in a minute.”

The mention of the time made your heart sink. If he was scheduling a time that meant he most likely had a meeting. Your hand dropped down his chest, slowing pressing against the soft fabric of his shirt. He kept talking, which allotted you time to just look over the details.

His collar wasn’t buttoned at the very top. He hated wearing ties and opted for this look. His long sleeves were neatly folded up to his elbows, it was too warm to be wearing them how they are meant to be worn. You admired the way the light blue pigment of the shirt looked against his tan skin. You wish you could see his arms fully, have them wrapped around you as he pounded you. You squeezed your eyes shut and pushed out the thought. You didn’t need to let yourself fall into a pit you wouldn’t be able to escape.

“Alright, thank you.” Harry said and sighed as he put the phone down.

“Guess I.. have to find something to do.” You mumbled quietly, toying with one the buttons on his shirt.

“Be a good girl for me, alright? I have a meeting soon.”

Your frown dropped lower. “Didn’t know you had one this early.”

You could feel his stare on you, watching you closely, but you never moved your eyes back up. He patted his hand gently on your hip, wanting to get your attention but it failed.

“I had a reschedule. I’ll give you some time when it’s over, alright?”

“Time?”

He smiled even though you weren’t looking. “We’ll see what I can do, alright? Might not be much.. but enough to hold you over.”

You nodded lightly and sighed, knowing this time with him was about to end. “Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” The words easily fell from your lips. You shifted your head and finally met his intense gaze. “I’ll be good.”

He chuckled. “I hope so, kitten.”

While Harry was attending his meeting, you occupied yourself with the few games on your phone. You weren’t thrilled to be in his office alone, but you had no option. You could explore the building if you wanted to, but Harry knew you would be too nervous to be alone. So you stayed put on the couch and tried to pass the time. If he were in the room, you could just stare at him and let that be your distraction.

You weren’t sure of how long you had been sitting there when the door opened. You almost jumped up to greet him, but thankfully didn’t as you saw two men following behind him. He was talking to them, but he paid you a quick glance. You considered asking if you needed to step out, but you knew he wouldn’t make you.

The men sat down in the two chairs placed in front of the big desk. You frowned as you realized they would be staying in the room. All you could think about was the “time” Harry promised you. These men were ruining that. As much as he wanted to tell you he’d tend to you soon, he couldn’t right now.

You waited patiently for an additional thirty minutes. Harry was talking back and forth with the men, carrying their meeting topic into the office. You glued your eyes to the screen of your phone and tried to stay focused on the game. It was hard to be fully detached when you could hear his voice. Most of the time, he’s not talking unless he’s on the phone so you can easily distract yourself.

Eventually, the two men stood up and headed towards the door. Harry didn’t follow them, his eyes were on the computer as he typed an email. You smiled to yourself as the door shut and you were finally alone. Harry’s brows were set low as he typed. You stayed still and waited for him. To your dismay, he grabbed a stack of papers off his desk and went towards the door. His eyes never looked your way. Your smile dropped to a frown as he left the office.

Although you were on his mind, he was extremely busy. The promise of giving you some time had slipped his mind and unfortunately for you, it wouldn’t return any time soon. He was carrying the stack of papers to someone because he was too impatient to wait on them to get them from his office. This work had to get done this week so he wasn’t wasting any time. He stopped by the coffee maker to fix him a cup, forgetting to do so before he came back from the meeting earlier.

You were becoming agitated while waiting in his office. You were lying on your side now, facing the room with the blanket draped over your body. You weren’t cold, but you craved his warmth and that was the best you could do. He was gone for nearly ten minutes, and you thought it would never end. The door opened and you swallowed gently, not sure what to expect. Would he ignore you again or would he spare you a few moments? Sadly, he didn’t even turn his head in your direction. He sat down at the desk and immediately started typing on the keyboard.

A frustrated sigh left your mouth, but Harry was so focused that he didn’t even notice. You closed your eyes and tried your best to fall asleep. You weren’t tired but you figured the boredom would make you sleep.

Luckily for you, it did. It was nearing lunch when Harry shut his office door yet again. The loud noise made you flinch in your sleep, a moment later your eyelids peeled back. It was almost a jumpscare to see him walking towards you, a smile placed on his pink lips.

“Hey, baby.” He said as he gestured for you to sit up.

The blanket fell from your body as you moved. “Hi.”

He chuckled at your cute voice and messy hair. He knew you had been asleep the whole time and when you would toss onto your other side, he’d glance your way to check on you.

“Is it time to go?” You asked, sort of confused on the time.

You reached for his hand and he gladly let you take it. He smiled and gave you a gentle shake of his head. He squatted down in front of you, his other hand grabbing your thigh.

“It’s almost time for lunch, darling. What would you like, hm?”

You shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

He lifted his brows and squeezed your fingers. “Decide, alright? I’ll order it after I handle this email.”

“Wait!” You chirped as he stood up, trying to slip his hand from yours.

“What is it?”

“Don’t.. don’t go.” You muttered quietly, your eyes dropping down to stare at your joined hands.

Harry lightly sighed and reached for your jaw. He angled your head back, his eyes meeting yours. You pouted your lips out in attempt to get what you wanted, but he didn’t fall for it.

“Babe, I have to do this real quick. I’ll come sit with you in a few minutes, okay?”

You were going to protest again, but a thought shot to the top of your mind. “What.. what about giving me some time? Will you ever?”

He smirked, amused by the obvious irritation you were trying to hide. “I will after we order lunch, alright?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“You’ve been super busy all day.” You reminded him.

Harry licked his lips and smiled. “I’m at work, love. That’s how it is.”

Since you didn’t respond to him, you let him slip away to his desk. He told you to figure out what you wanted so he could order it. After a few minutes of thinking, you decided on what you felt like eating and told him what you wanted. He did the whole ordering process and scheduled it for delivery. You were glad he didn’t want to go out to get lunch like he did most of the time when you were at the office.

“Well, that’ll be here in forty five minutes.” Harry sighed out as he stood from his desk and started the journey to you.

Your heart skipped a beat as you watched him undo two more of his buttons. His eyes were on his shirt as he walked towards you. When he lifted his gaze, he laughed as he saw you practically bouncing on the cushion.

“What’s up with you, missy?” He said through his smirk as he extended his hand to you.

You gave it a hard tug, trying to pull him down. He was too strong to move though. He didn’t make you wait any longer. You squealed as he sat down next to you, his big hands grabbing onto your body. You giggled as he wrestled with you, dragging your body on his lap.

“You made me wait long enough.” You smiled as you grabbed either side of his face and pulled his lips to yours.

He let out a moan as you settled over his crotch and swiped your tongue through his mouth. It was obvious that you were eager and ready for whatever he was going to do. He kissed you for a minute, just soaking in the taste of your mouth and the smearing of your tongue against his. Work was entirely too stressful for him today and he needed this. He needed you just as much as you needed him.

You groaned when he pulled away from your lips. “No, more.” A soft whine fell from your mouth.

He chuckled and lifted a hand to run through your hair, pushing it back from your face. “What do you want to do, hm? I’m letting you decide.”

Your lips puckered as you thought about the different things you could do in the short time. As much as you wanted to do absolutely everything with him, you knew it was unrealistic. You were working with borrowed time, so you had to make your decision quickly.

“Want to use my mouth on you.” You said sweetly, a smile shaping to your lips.

He grinned back, somewhat surprised by your request. He figured you’d want him to focus entirely on your pleasure. His hands gripped your hips, wishing there were no barriers blocking him from your skin.

“That’s all, baby? Don’t want me to eat you out or use my fingers, hm?” He asked with a lift of his brow.

You shook your head, fingers playing at the back of his head. “You gave me something this morning.. I want you this time.”

He lifted his arm so he could check the time on his watch. “A forty minute blow job, darling? Is that all you want?”

“No. That’s just the first thing.” You smirked back as you slid off his lap and dropped to your knees on the floor. You were grateful for the thick rug that laid in front of the couch. As much as you loved doing this to him, it was rough on your knees at times. “Want you to fuck me after.”

Your casual words made him laugh and shake his head in disbelief. He gave you a smile as a response, you already knew he wouldn’t deny you of what you asked for so there was no point in having to verbally tell you. He licked his lips and grunted as you tore his belt from its buckle and undone his pants. You wished you could see him completely bare, but he wasn’t going to do that in the office. He never had and today wouldn’t be any different.

Harry kept his stare fixated on you while you reached into his briefs and pulled his length out. You were pleased to see that it was already rock hard for you. He let out a light moan as you gripped the base, but you stopped before you did anything. You shifted your eyes to his and frowned slightly. He lifted his hips off the couch and tugged his pants down to his knees. It was much easier for you to access what you wanted, and much more comfortable for you both. You smiled when he relaxed back against the plush leather and gave you a nod, instructing you to carry on.

“So pretty when you got y’hands on my cock, baby girl.” He said through a sigh as you started to pump him.

His words made butterflies pop up in your stomach. You used your hand for a little bit before becoming impatient with yourself. You leaned up, one hand bracing on his thigh while the other squeezed the base of his cock. His head fell back as a string of spit spilled through your lips and landed on the head of his cock. Harry returned his eyes to you quickly, he didn’t want to risk missing the perfect scene.

A knot formed in his stomach as you closed your lips around him and started to suck. The sound of you hollowing your cheeks and stuffing your mouth full filled the room. Your head bobbed up and down as you took in a few inches, then pulled back before going even further. Harry was enjoying the vicious cycle you were performing. Your hand switched from squeezing his base to massaging his balls, both of which were just fuel to the fire.

Even though he fucked you last night after you both swapped foreplay routines, he felt as though it had been ages since he felt the warmth of your mouth engulf him. You hummed around his cock as his fingers raked through your scalp, his attempt at trying to keep your hair out of the way was sweet and meaningful to you. He liked to watch and have a clear view, but he also didn’t want you to be uncomfortable or bothered by any obstacles.

“There you go, fuck.” He groaned out in a thick, heavy tone as you took him down your throat, holding yourself still for a few seconds before gasping for air.

A trail of spit connected your lips to the end of his cock as you leaned back, your lungs struggling to keep up. Harry moaned at the glorious sight, it was always one of his favorite things to see - your lips swollen from sucking his cock, spit covering your skin and tears in your eyes from straining yourself. He was in awe at your beauty.

“Fuck, baby doll.. do you want my cum in your mouth?” He took the chance to ask you while your mouth wasn’t full.

You hadn’t realized you were staring at his cock until you shifted your eyes to his. You shook your head and felt a warmth come to your cheeks. “No, in my pussy, please.”

The corner of his mouth lifted as lust filled his eyes. “Alright, whatever you want, baby.”

You fell forward, your tongue running all over his skin. You swiped up from the bottom, already to the slit in his tip. You sent time poking and slurping it, knowing that he loved that. He was falling apart above you, moaning and grunting and cursing in whispers.

“So good f’me, kitten.” The words came in a low rumble, making your heart flutter.

There was nothing you loved more than praise. It made you feel the best kind of pleasure, made your heart skip beats and your stomach drop, it made your brain dizzy and stars fill your eyes.. It was perfect, especially when Harry gave it to you.

You swallowed him whole again, keeping him stuck in your mouth for a few long moments. Harry tapped your jaw, shaking his head at you. You pulled him out, a loud gasp filling the air.

“Baby, don’t hurt yourself.” He sternly said. “Y’know I don’t like it when you hurt yourself.”

“M’not.. I can handle it.” You whined back, sometimes you got annoyed by his over protectiveness. You wanted to shove him as far in as you could, whether it was in your mouth or your pussy.

“Behave, kitten.”

That worked almost too well on you. You nodded and decided it would be best to just listen to him. When your lips returned to his tip, he sucked in a breath and held it, a sign that he was close. You kept going, sucking on the top inches of his cock, making sure to squeeze the lower half as hard as you could. He felt a familiar feeling growing in his stomach. He wanted you to keep going, but he knew he was dangerously close to busting in your mouth. As much as he loved seeing you swallow his cum, you wanted it elsewhere and he was going to honor that request.

The sound of you slurping on his cock was sending him over the edge. He dug his fingertips into his own thigh as he watched your head bob on his cock. There was a string of spit dripping down his length, sliding over his balls, that was driving him mad. He wanted to explode all over your pretty face and watch you wipe it up with your fingers and suck it off, but he couldn’t.

He grunted, sitting up to grab your jaw. “Gotta stop, baby, or m’gonna cum.”

You whimpered as he pushed you backwards. You kept hold of him though and gave him a squeeze. He swatted your hand back and gave you a stern look. He pushed his pants down to his ankles and gestured for you to stand up. A grin swept over your lips as he reached for your body and easily yanked you forward. You squealed as he slid his hands under your shirt to grab the waistband of your leggings. He pulled them down, along with your panties, and tossed them on the couch beside him.

“Mm, look at that pretty pussy.” His eyes were just as hungry as his cock was for you.

“All for you.” You muttered back with a sultry tone, making him smirk and pull you down on his lap.

He spit on his fingers and gently stuck them in your entrance. You gasped at the sudden feeling, but instantly felt a fire spark to life in your gut. You needed him more than you thought.

“Take your time, okay?” He said while looking up at you. His hand was wrapped around his cock, preparing to line it up and guide it into your body.

You gave him a nod and started to sink down on his length. He moved his hand back once he knew he was in place, and quickly grabbed either side of your waist. A soft whine fell from your lips as he stretched you out. Being on top wasn’t necessarily your favorite position, only because you felt like he had less control and couldn’t dominate you as much, but you knew he liked doing it this way so you never complained. Besides, he quickly reminds you that he dominates over you in any position..

“Oh.” You chirped as you went to grasp your own breast but realized it was covered.

His lips curled up as he watched you tug your shirt over your head and discard it on the floor. Instantly, your hand cupped your boob and gave it a tight squeeze. Harry grunted at the sight and leaned forward to take care of the other one. He sucked hard on your nipple, knocking your hand away so he could squeeze the other one. You let him do whatever he wanted, it felt good to you either way.

Your head fell back and you let out a heavy moan. His length was completely lost in you, filling you to the brim with his pulsing cock. You wanted more.

You grabbed his face and pulled him away from your chest, tilting his head back so you could see him. “Please, please, I need you.”

He returned his hands to your hips and immediately started to assist you in lifting and slamming your body on to his cock. With each hard impact, you gasped and moaned to him. He kept the pace steady since he knew you struggled to stay strong during this. You weren’t weak but it was definitely tiring for you. Just as you grabbed onto his shoulder, he shook his head.

“Nuh uh, baby, you can’t wrinkle my shirt.”

“But.. but that means I.. can’t touch you.” You frowned back.

He sighed, this was a conversation you always had to have while doing this in his office. He wished you’d remember. “No, it means don’t grab onto my shirt.. you can hold on to me but don’t ball up my shirt, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll try my best.”

Despite your promise, you were already struggling with the reality of not being able to touch him. It was like torture for you. He’s so close to you, you’re literally on top of him and you can’t touch him. It felt completely unfair, his hands were gripping your body and fingertips glided over your skin. This couldn’t possibly be fair..

Harry watched closely as you kept hesitating to touch his body. It was almost painful to not feel him or hold on to him in some way. You went to grab his shoulder out of instinct as his cock buried deep in you, but you drew your hand back and let out a frustrated huff.

“Get up.” He said almost instantly, making your brows drop in confusion.

“What? What did I do? M’sorry.” You quickly began to apologize, fearing that something you were unaware of happened. Maybe you did something that made him irritated?

“Don’t apologize, darling, you didn’t do anything.” He said with a smile as you stumbled to your feet. You pressed a hand to your stomach, feeling oddly queasy. “M’not gonna watch you suffer ‘cause you can’t touch me.. Go over the couch for me, okay?”

“Oh, okay.” Your frown morphed to a grin and you hurried to the arm of the couch.

Harry laughed to himself as you quickly fell over the arm, your ass perched in the air as your arms folded beneath your head. You both knew that this was a good position. He was able to go deep and you were able to simply relax and lay there looking pretty for him. You obviously couldn’t touch him this way either, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t have to suffer with being so close to him and having access to his body. This way, thrown over the couch with his cock pounding into you, you didn’t even have to worry about touching him.

He smacked his hand against your ass a few times, making you whine and beg for a few more. You were always his dirty girl, even underneath all the cuteness and the perfectionism - you loved a good spanking.

“More, please.” You said again, looking over your shoulder at him.

He squeezed both sides of your ass, pushing your cheeks upward as his cock disappeared into your pussy. He grinned at you, biting down on his lip as his palm landed hard against your skin. You whimpered and gave him a smile.

“Thank you.”

“My kitten loves getting her ass spanked, doesn’t she, baby?” He said, his tone lowered and his eyes dark with lust and sex and euphoria.

“Yes, Daddy. I love it so much.”

There it was. That one simple word, that second name you’ve given him - it drove him over the edge every time. He closed his eyes and just fucked you for a solid minute straight. Your moans circled through the office before floating to the high ceilings, echoes of your squeals and hauntings of your gasps followed. Harry was mesmerized by the sweet sounds you let out. His mind was drifting into the bliss as he was balls deep in your cunt. There was nothing he wanted more right now than you - your body, your heart, your soul, everything. He craved you.

“Fuck, kitten. Such a tight pussy, yeah? And, fuck, so wet f’me.”

Your eyes bolted shut as he splayed his hands on your ass and fucked himself as hard and deep in you as he could. You felt your toes curl and your stomach bubble with excitement. It was becoming overwhelming very quickly, and you knew you were about to let loose. A small gasp slipped out of your mouth as he pounded into you, not wasting a single second.

“M’gonna.. c-cum.” You managed to squeak out a few words.

He heard you, thankfully, and ran his hand down to the small of your back. “Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock. You’re such a good girl.”

His words pushed you over the edge. Your eyes rolled back and your lips fell apart as your body trembled, your legs shook a little as the orgasm rushed through your body. Your pussy was throbbing, your clit hadn’t even been touched by him, yet it was sensitive as it rutted against the arm of the couch. You fell apart on the leather, your feet went numb as you waited for the blissful high to fade in your head.

As you pulsed around him, your soft skin hot and tight around his cock, he felt his own orgasm approaching. He could tell you were fucked out, but he was so close he just kept going. Within a few seconds, he was spurting ropes of cum deep inside of your pussy, filling with his warm release. You moaned sweetly as it burned through you. Harry let out a heavy groan as he slowly pulled out of you. His cum began to drip out of your hole. He watched as it slowly seeped out. As much as you wanted to taste it, you were too tired to even move.

[a/n: I decided to split this into two parts bc it was super long.. sorry for the long wait for this series update! hope u enjoy]

taglist: @cherrymelonx-blog @novasblogofstuff @rideeonstyles @esnyhoney @fuzzymelanie @hesvoid3434 @smutmecca @anxieteeeaa @luvonstyles @danaehldy @artist59 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl @lomllover @haniaaa04 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @sassamanda77 @lizsogolden

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freedomfireflies · 6 months ago

Text

One Day*

Summary: An extra for 404*

The one where you still hate Harry, but turns out, you might be having his baby.

Word Count: 5.4k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, spanking, brief choking, slight angst (happy ending), mentions of pregnancy and babies! *Please be so gentle with yourself and only continue if you feel comfortable! 💞*

“I’m late.”

“For what?”

You huff. “I’m late,” you repeat, gesturing frantically toward your hips. “A week late. Which I know can happen, but…not really to me, so…I’m late. And I think we’re fucked.”

Harry blinks. Looks down at your stomach. Looks up at your face. “Oh.”

“Oh?” You rear back. “That’s all you have to say for yourself is oh?”

He lifts his left shoulder in nonchalant shrug before flopping down onto your sofa. “I don’t know. What did you want me to say?”

“I…I don’t know,” you huff. “I kind of thought you’d…yell. Or freak out or something. Or ask me if I’m keeping it.”

“Do you want me to freak out?”

“Well…no. Not really.”

“Do you want to keep it?”

“I…I don’t know, I don’t even…I’m not even sure if I am yet or not.”

“Okay.” He nudges his glasses up before crossing his arms. “Well did you get a test?”

You glance toward the pharmacy bag still sitting on your kitchen counter. It’s been mocking you ever since you picked it up. Staring you down, sticking out its tongue. One, tiny little box that’ll determine the next chapter of your life. It’s almost infuriating.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I, um…got one on the way home from work.”

“Okay. Have you taken it yet?”

“Not…exactly.”

His brow raises. “Do you…need help or something?”

You scowl. “It’s peeing on a stick, I think I’ve got it covered.”

“Yeah, well, knowing you, you’d find a way to fuck it up.” He smirks. “Sure hope our baby gets my brains instead of yours.”

You grab the pillow beside him and give him a firm whack. “That’s not funny.”

He laughs as he winces. “Good. I wasn’t being funny.”

“Then, stop it. And stop being so calm.”

“You just said you preferred calm—”

“Well…it’s scaring me now. So what gives?”

Another shrug. “I don’t know. I just don’t really feel the need to waste a reaction on something we don’t even know is happening yet. Take the test and then I’ll freak out if you’d like.”

“You say that like someone that’s had a lot of pregnancy scares.”

He snorts. “No, I say that like someone who knows freaking out won’t exactly help you right now. So just take the goddamn test, Tinkerbell. And we’ll go from there.”

Unamused, but somehow slightly comforted, you oblige and snatch the box from the table before retreating to the bathroom.

Once the timer has been set, you slowly make your way back to him.

He’s still sitting on the sofa. Calm. Unaffected. Watching you without a care in the world. Like his whole life isn’t about to change.

It drives you nuts.

“Five minutes,” you tell him.

He nods.

Warily, you sit in the chair to his left, staring holes through your shoes as your heart races inside your chest. You’re not sure how you got here. Not sure where you could possibly go. You aren’t ready for a baby. Not…yet. Especially not one with…him.

“Hey,” he calls, pulling your attention up. “S’the matter with you?”

Your eyes narrow. “What the hell do you think?”

Another casual shrug that makes your teeth grit. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“Happy?” You lean back. “Why on Earth would I be happy about getting stuck with your DNA for the rest of my life?”

He smiles. “I don’t know. You just seem like the type of girl to want a lot of babies.”

You scoff. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I am not.” You don’t think.

“Really? Is that why you begged me to breed you?”

“I didn’t actually mean it. That’s just what you say in a moment like that.”

His eyebrow raises.

You hesitate. “Did…did you mean it?”

“Kind of,” he admits. “I mean, yeah, maybe I didn’t mean right this second, but…I don’t hate the idea.”

“You actually want to be a father?” You snort. “Bullshit. You hate kids. I’ve seen you.”

“I don’t hate kids, I just don’t care about them when they aren’t mine.” He throws his arm over the back of the chair and smirks. “I like my nieces, though. They’re chill.”

You blink. “You…you have nieces? Wait, you have siblings?”

“Yeah. One brother. He’s got two kids and they’re cute as shit.”

“Oh.” Your head starts to pound. “See? We can’t have a baby when I don’t even know anything about you.”

He chuckles to himself before nodding his chin at you. “All right, fine. Go ahead. Ask me whatever.”

“What?”

“Ask me what you wanna know.”

You think. “Okay. How often do you see your family?”

“Often enough. They live in California, and they work a lot. But we call every couple of weeks.”

“Oh. That’s…surprisingly nice. Uh…do you have a history of disease in your family?”

He grins. “Excuse me?”

“I need to know what I’m getting myself into.” You motion at him. “Answer.”

“This isn’t an interview—”

“Answer.”

“No,” he says. “Not that I know of anyway.”

“Great. Do you plan to be a deadbeat father?”

His eyes roll. “I’m not dignifying that with a response.”

“So, yes? You do? Oh, great—”

“No, because that’s not a fair fucking question—”

“It is a fair question. If I have to raise this baby alone, I want to know—”

“Of course you wouldn’t fucking be alone. Do you really think so little of me—”

“I don’t think about you at all. How am I supposed to know what you’ll do—”

“I wouldn’t leave you alone,” he nearly snaps. He takes a breath to calm himself before adding, “Even if it wasn’t my baby, I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

Your lashes flutter and you can feel your heart lodging in your throat. “Fine. Last question.”

He waits.

“Did you ever want kids…before? With…her?”

He doesn’t have to think for very long, but the mention of her makes him smile. “Nah. We talked about it, but we weren’t ready. We liked it being just us, you know? We had a bunch of shit we wanted to do. We were a long way from babies and a white picket fence.”

You try to blink back the tears swimming their way to your eye. You can still see that beautiful picture of her in his room. An entire future of love and life and adventures that he lost. Now…he’s stuck with you.

“Oh,” you murmur.

His brows furrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” You swipe your knuckle along your cheek. “So, you probably still aren’t ready.”

“I didn’t say that.”

You give him an incredulous look. “Harry, come on. You aren’t ready for a baby. I’m not ready for a baby. We…we don’t know each other, we don’t like each other…we can’t do this. You know that.”

“Do I?” He leans forward. “It’s a baby, not a bomb. I think we can handle it.”

“Well, I don’t. You don’t even like me. You can’t have a baby with me.”

“Why not? People do it all the time.”

“But not us.” You give him a firm stare. “Harry, we love our jobs. We want careers, not kids. So having a baby kind of gets in the way of that. There’s…there’s diaper changes, and teething, and potty training—”

“So?”

“So. We don’t work together well. In fact, it’s a rather well-known fact that we don’t get along. We can’t possibly raise a kid. We’d ruin it.” You study him for a beat, unnerved by the nonchalance in his tone. “Why do I get the feeling you actually want this to be real?”

Another shrug and you nearly lunge at him. “I don’t know,” he murmurs, resting his elbows on his knees while he glances at the floor. “I’m older now. Maybe it’s time to…think about settling down.”

Your face scrunches. “Ew. That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

He laughs. “Look, I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it, but…maybe it could be a good thing.”

You stand from your chair and pace the length of your small living room. “This is crazy. This is crazy. I can’t have a baby, I’m…I’m not ready. I’m too young, I…I don’t even know what I’d do with one. Or if I even have a maternal instinct.”

“Probably not,” Harry offers, smirking when you glare. “You won’t really know until you have one.”

“Oh, great.”

“Listen, if you feel like you aren’t ready…we can find another alternative,” he says, softening his voice. “Okay? There are plenty of other options and we’ll find one you feel comfortable with.”

A tad wary of his sympathetic answer, you eye him closely. “Yeah? And what if we disagree?”

“We won’t,” he says calmly. “Your body, your decision.”

“Right,” you snort. “I’m sure.”

“I mean it. I wouldn’t be the one having to carry it.” He nods as though to reassure you. “Honestly, Tink. This would be your decision, one hundred percent. It’s not mine to make. Just to support.”

The tears rush a little faster as you sniffle and step closer. “You say that now, but what if I decide something you don’t like?”

“I will like it. I promise,” he murmurs, standing up in order to move toward you. “If you want to keep it, great. If you don’t, great.”

“I…I…” You suck in a deep breath, unable to slow the wild racing in your chest. “Fuck, I can’t…I don’t know—”

“Hey, okay, easy. Easy, Princess,” he says, quickly reaching out to take you in his arms and ease you against his chest. “Relax. Okay? Just breathe. Breathe for me.”

“I…I don’t think I can—”

“Yes, you can. You are.” His lips press to the top of your head while his hand runs up and down your back soothingly. “I’m right here. Do you hear me? I’m right here. You’re not alone. You won’t be alone. I promise.”

You squeeze your arms together and hold on with everything you have. Right now, he feels like your only anchor in the world. The only person strong enough to carry you both through to the other side. And for the first time since you met him…you feel glad that he’s here.

The two of you stand in the middle of the room for a long while before he finally murmurs, “I think it’s been five minutes.”

Your eyes close and you grip his shirt in your first. “I’m…I’m not ready to look.”

“Okay.” You can hear the smile in his response. “Okay, we can wait.”

So, you do as the truth starts to build in your chest. Inescapable, no matter how hard you try to swallow it down.

Finally, you can’t help but whisper, “You know what scares me the most?”

“Hm?”

“…that maybe I’m hoping it’s real.”

The apartment falls silent again. He doesn’t push you to elaborate, but you can feel his heart beating just a little faster inside his chest.

“I don’t know why,” you continue. “I don’t…I really don’t think I’m ready, but…but what if I should be? What if…what if we met and we started this because…because we were supposed to do this?”

He considers this. “Like fate.”

“Yeah.” You roll your lips into your mouth. “Because I still hate you. I do. I just…I’m starting to get this picture in my head of us. Being a family. Having a big house in a good school district. Tucking them into bed at night and reading them stories. Which is…dumb.”

“No,” he mumbles. “No, it’s not dumb. I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Because I meant what I said, I’d love to get you pregnant. You’d look really fucking hot.”

You chuckle. “Yes, so you’ve mentioned.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Uh…okay?”

He smirks. “I never had a breeding kink until I met you.”

You lean back and swat your hand across his chest. “You’re so annoying.”

“What? I’m being serious.” He grins and those dimples pop free. God, you hope your kids have his dimples—

No. Nope. You aren’t going there.

You shake your head, ridding yourself of the thought. “Whatever. You’re just horny.”

“Maybe. But it’s still true.” His gentle gaze sweeps across your face. “If you wanna do this…we’ll do it. You and me. We’ll have this baby, and we’ll raise it to be really smart, and funny, and to not take shit from anybody.”

You laugh, brushing away a few more tears. “Maybe we can teach it to write code.”

“Oh, fucking obviously.”

The two of you smile before the excitement seems to fizzle and Harry’s brows pull together.

“You know I don’t actually hate you, right?” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“I know that’s our thing, and I know you said it earlier, but…I don’t actually hate you. This baby wouldn’t grow up with two parents that don’t like each other.”

“Oh…I…I know.”

“Good. Because I don’t want that to be one of the reasons you think we can’t do it. I’d fucking love that baby. And I’d love you for carrying it.”

Instantly, you both seem to still. The four-letter word sounds so loud inside such a small room.

I’d love you.

He clears his throat, shifting a bit as he glances toward the kitchen. “I mean, I’d…I’d appreciate you for carrying it—”

“No, yeah, I know,” you stammer. “I know what you mean.”

“Good. Yeah.”

The two of you fall quiet again before you softly admit, “I think I’m ready to look.”

“Okay.” He squeezes your hip. “I’m right here.”

You take in a deep breath before begrudgingly pulling yourself out of his arms. You already miss his warmth and the way he felt like home and your stomach turns as you slip into the bathroom.

With trembling hands, you reach for the stick that sits on the edge of your sink. And in those three seconds, an entire lifetime flashes before your eyes.

The good, the bad, and the everything in-between. You see a house and a dog and a big backyard. You see two little kids rolling in the grass and jumping into the pool. You hear them begging for a bedtime story and crying when they scrape their knee.

You see a dozen birthdays and holidays and visits to the zoo. You see their heartbreaks and triumphs, their successes and letdowns. You see a million goodnight kisses and cuddles on the couch.

And then…you see Harry.

In every picture, every moment. Taking them to their first baseball game and picking them up from their first dance. Sneaking them into R-rated movies even after you explicitly said no and feeding them far too much candy and popcorn.

You see him teach your son how to tie a tie and dance with your daughter as she stands on his feet. You see him cooking breakfast in the kitchen, flour all over his face. You see him curled up in bed, his head on your chest, your fingers in his hair. You hear him tell you how happy he is. How glad that he found you.

It’s a beautiful life. Even if it’s not the one you imagined for yourself. And in that moment, you decide that it doesn’t matter what the test says. If that’s your future, so be it.

As long as you get to live it with him.

“So?” Harry calls from the hall.

You swallow thickly and slowly glance down.

Negative.

No baby. No pregnancy. No white-picket fence.

You stare at the test for at least a full minute. You aren’t sure how you feel. Relieved. Disappointed. Upset. Thankful. Confused.

“Tink?”

You turn around. “Uh…it’s negative,” you report, handing it to him. “False alarm. I guess I’m just late.”

He glances over the stick with a rather blank expression before looking at you. “Are you okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. This is definitely the better outcome. I’m just…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was just starting to get used to the idea.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, handing it back. “I know.”

You throw the test away. “Sorry for making you come all the way over here for that.”

“Hey, whoa—” He strides into the bathroom. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I’d be here.”

“I just…I wasted your time. I should have taken it before I called you—”

“Tink,” he sighs, taking your cheeks in his hands. “Stop. You can always call me for shit like this.” He looks at you, then amends, “You can always me. For anything. You know that.”

A tear slips from your eye without warning, and you suck in a sharp breath. “I don’t know why I’m so disappointed. This is what I wanted—”

“I know,” he says gently. “I know. It’s hard.”

“Yeah.” You hiccup. “But this is good, right? This is better?”

For a moment, he says nothing. He simply stares at you with a rather sympathetic expression. Or maybe it’s forlorn. Maybe he’s disappointed. Upset that you aren’t giving him what he wants.

Then, he dips down to kiss the tip of your nose. “This is good,” he whispers, and you know he means it. “We would have figured it out. And you would have been a wonderful mom. But I know you. And I know you aren’t ready. Not yet.”

You close your eyes and melt into the feel of his palms against your skin. Into the way he reassures you and protects you all in the same breath. You never thought you’d feel so safe in the serenity of his touch, but here you are. Wishing for him to hold you forever.

“And when we are ready, we’ll do it on our terms,” he says. “Okay?”

Slowly, you nod. “This is good,” you repeat to yourself. “It is. Really. Things are going great at work, I’m finally secure financially, and even you and I are…kind of getting along.”

He smirks.

“This is good. This is better.” You repeat the mantra until you really believe it. “Besides, I probably wouldn’t have been a very good pregnant woman anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’d be really cranky. Or needy. My ankles would get all swollen and I’d be hot all the time and nauseous and miserable. I’d probably try to kill you.”

“Oh, you’d definitely try to kill me. You try to kill me even when you aren’t pregnant.”

You gasp. “Rude.”

“What?” He chuckles again before his eyes slowly start to rake down your frame. “But I don’t know. I think it’ll be better than you think.”

You swat him again. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop trying to picture it.”

“Why? I told you, you’d look fucking hot.”

“Yeah…no.”

However, he only nods, moving in to subtly brush his lips against yours. “You would. Be so fucking beautiful carrying our baby. With your tits all swollen and your belly getting bigger every day.”

Truthfully, the image almost makes you grimace, but there’s something about the way he says it. The way he talks about you so reverently. A soft, sultry murmur that goes straight to your cunt. Because you know he’s not just saying it to say it. He means it. Believes it. Would do anything for it.

He tilts your head back, thumb brushing along your jaw. “And I think you like it,” he exhales. “I think you like the idea of holding me inside you. Having a part of me. Knowing that I did it to you. No one else.”

You suck in a soft breath, knees going just a bit weak. “Harry…”

“What, baby?” His mouth ghosts along your neck. “Are you thinking about it? Thinking about how pretty your tummy would look with me inside it?”

He’s evil. Absolutely evil, and you clear your throat in a desperate attempt to regain control of yourself. “Do you…have a pregnancy kink I don’t know about?”

His lips quirk up. “Apparently.”

“Mm.” Your lashes flutter and the urge to kiss him grows stronger. “You know…some women get really horny when they’re pregnant.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Yeah. I don’t think you could handle it.”

He scoffs. “Oh, no?”

You shake your head. “I mean, do you really think you could keep up? Going for hours and hours on end? Trying to keep me satiated with your poor, limp little dick?”

He makes another noise, and you tsk.

“I mean, you can barely satisfy me now as it is. But if I was pregnant? Pfft. Forget it.”

Instantly, he’s snatching hold of your hips and yanking you against his chest. “Don’t fucking tempt me, Princess,” he nearly growls. “I’ll bend you over right now.”

“No, I don’t think you will,” you retort. “You’ve gone soft on me. Rubbing my back, kissing my hair. You wanna take care of me and honestly? It’s a little pathetic.”

His head cocks rather deviously and your pulse begins to skip. He could split you in half if he wanted to and you both know it.

But that’s what you need right now. You don’t want to be coddled or looked after. You wanna be fucked. Tortured and teased until you’re begging for release.

You want an escape.

And in that moment, Harry decides to give you one.

He picks you up and carries you out of the bathroom while your legs quickly work to hook to his hips for stability and your arms snake around his neck.

He ignores your squeals and teasing huffs of annoyance, instead dropping you onto your mattress with a soft thud.

You glare and push up onto your elbows. “You know, you don’t have to manhandle me—”

“Shut up.”

He surges forward, lips gliding against yours as he takes a taste of you on his tongue. And kissing is easy with him. As easy breathing, like you’ve done it all your life. You know exactly what he likes, what he wants. And you give it him.

His glasses are cold against your face, keeping him from getting as close as he’d like, and after a moment, he huffs, and rips them off before tossing them aside. And even though you adore when he wears them, you happen to adore being near him even more.

Your hands are in his hair, tugging on his curls, scratching down his neck. He has the added advantage of being on top, but that doesn’t seem to stop him from turning to putty in your hands. Clay for you to mold to your liking.

No matter how dominant he tries to be, he’s simply a man that needs to be told what to do. Taken care of. Shown.

And you happen to like showing him.

You feel him tug on the hem of your shirt. “Off,” he breathes between carnal nips to your throat. “I want this off, Tink.”

Happy to oblige, you push him back so you can lift yourself up before you peel the fabric from your chest. You take your time with the bra, allowing the straps to fall down your arms oh so slowly. You don’t rush to reveal yourself to him, instead letting him anticipate you. Until his heart is racing and his eyes are darkening and he’s resisting the urge to do it himself.

But once he can finally see you, he nearly groans. “Oh, good fucking girl.”

He resumes his work. More kisses are left to the warm, tender skin, and he happily sucks bruises into each swell and curve of your breast before teasing the nipple with his tongue. His hands are greedy—ravenous. Pulling at your flesh, clawing his way along your frame.

When he reaches your thighs, you whimper. You’ve missed the way he touches you. The way he pries your legs apart and makes a home between.

In a rush, he snaps your panties off into his fist and you toss him a punishing glare.

He smiles.

You rid each other of your remaining clothes in a frantic fashion until they’re nothing more than a dirty pile on the floor. Messy and familiar. Fated.

He drops down onto the bed back first, effortlessly swapping positions as you’re placed in a straddle over his waist.

“Good girl, let me see you,” he murmurs, running his fingers down your cheek before grabbing your jaw. “Go ahead.”

You reach down and take his hardening cock in your hand, running it along your cunt before teasing yourself with the tip.

“Didn’t stretch you,” he mumbles, leaving a few stray kisses to your collarbone. “S’might hurt, so—”

You push him in, simultaneously sinking down in an effort to feel a more prominent burn., and you both make a rather lewd noise as the grip on your chin tightens.

“Tink,” he hisses with a punishing look of his own. “Careful—”

You drop yourself further, muscles tensing around the thickness until your thighs begin to shake.

“Hey—” He forces your eyes on his. “Enough. Be gentle, m’not gonna hurt you—”

“I want you to,” you pant. “Please. I need it. I…fuck, Har, I need it. Please…please.”

He’s still frowning but his expression softens. “Baby…not like this. Maybe we should wait until you’re feeling better—"

“No,” you whimper. Desperate. Fraught. “Harry, please, don’t stop. Don’t make me stop—”

“Hey, easy, easy.” He pulls your forehead to his. “Breathe. It’s okay.”

You try to obey. Try to suck in a strangled gasp of air but it’s useless. He’s gonna take himself from you. He’s gonna leave, and you’ll be empty, and alone, and maybe he won’t ever touch you again—

He places his palm on your chest, right over your heart. “Breathe,” he says again. Soft. Quiet. “In then out. Good girl, just like that.”

You follow the sound of his voice. Mimic his inhales and exhales until the two of you fall into a synchronized rhythm.

“Good,” he says again, rubbing his other hand along your back. “There you go. You’re all right, I’ve got you. Yeah?”

Weakly, you nod. “I’m…I’m sorry. I just…I—”

“Shh.” He kisses your nose. “You’re okay, Tink. I know.”

A long moment passes before you finally feel in control of your own heart again and once you blink the fog from your eye, you see him. Delicate and strong at the same time.

He sweeps his thumb along your lip. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you admit. “Really, I just…I needed to feel you. And I wanted to…move on, I guess. Think about something else. Lose myself for a bit.”

He sighs but nods his understanding. “You could have told me that.”

“I know. I guess I’m just not used to sharing things with you.”

“I know,” he echoes with a small grin. “But we’ll learn, yeah?”

Your gaze grows suspicious. “And why would we do that?”

“Because,” he says simply. “If we’re gonna make a bunch of hot, smart babies one day, we’re gonna have to communicate.”

You snort. “Yeah, well, that won’t be for a while.”

“Fine. Just gives us more time to practice.”

Your eyes narrow. “You really have gone soft on me, haven’t you? All because you thought I was pregnant."

He laughs, fingers slipping around the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. “I’d argue I’m actually quite hard right now.”

“Ha. Funny.”

“I can hate you and like you at the same time, right?” he teases. “Because I think that’s my sweet spot. Wanting to kill you and fuck you all at once.”

“Agreed. You’re insufferable but you’re also one of my favorite people. Which only makes you more insufferable.”

“Yeah.” He smiles. “I think we earned a little civility, no?”

You nod and take his lip between your teeth. “And I think we should celebrate with an orgasm.”

He laughs again. “I suppose that’s only fair.”

You dance your kisses down his chest, enjoying the way his head drops back while he sighs at the feel of your tongue. He’s so beautiful and so good and if you’re going to lose yourself, you want to lose yourself in him.

Leaning back, brace your hands behind you on his knees, and start to bounce yourself on his cock. Over and over, faster and faster, until he’s grabbing onto your hips and giving them a firm, encouraging squeeze to help you along.

Your tits bounce right in his face, and he takes advantage of his front row seat, allowing his hands to trace and tease your nipples as you whine. He sucks them into his mouth and pulls them with his teeth. It sends chills along your spine and goosebumps along your arms and when he notices, he smirks.

Not even a minute later, he’s pulling you down so your chest meets his. His hands land on your ass with a firm grip and he drags you along his cock. Slow and sensual until your eyes flutter shut, and you disappear into the building pleasure.

You feel his kisses on your ribcage as he begins to thrust up into you. Returning to the pace you previously set until you’re both chasing that familiar high.

“There you go,” he praises through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah, just like that—”

“Harry,” you mewl, fingers tangling in his hair. “Shit, please—”

“I know.” He leaves another kiss to the inside of your arm before he smacks your left ass cheek. “I got you, Princess. S’okay. Keep going.”

You grind yourself over his lap, knees hugging his waist as you bury yourself in the crook of his neck. Needy. Anxious. You match each other’s rhythm and it’s a dance. An effortless fluidity that brings you closer than ever before.

Then, he sucks two fingers into your mouth, and moves them between your cheeks. He grazes them over your tighter hole, gently teasing them over the other entrance before dropping them down to where his cock is fucking into your cunt. He plays with you a bit, pushing you just a bit closer while you wail—depraved—and beg for more.

“My good girl,” he praises. He spanks you again. “Fuck—that’s it, baby.”

Your staccato whimpers are consistent now. One for every thrust and you can almost taste his desperation as he turns his head in order to kiss your cheek. The sound of skin against skin is crude and delicious. The way your body slides against his. Like butter on a hot day, melting together.

He goes faster, pulls you harder. Fingers digging into your skin so hard it almost hurts. But in the best possible way. In turn, you brace yourself with a palm on his throat. Squeezing it tight as you start to get closer.

“Yeah,” he groans. “Shit…harder—”

You obey, pinching the sides of his neck until his eyes roll back.

You can feel his heart racing against yours. You’re both warm. Hot. Shaking. A tangled mess of limps and depraved grinding like animals in heat.

“M’almost…m’almost there,” you whisper.

He nods, looking down your body to watch the way your ass bounces in his hands. “Go. S’okay, go. Let me feel you.”

He leaves more kisses to your side and the tender way his lips feel against your skin makes your brain go fuzzy.

You grip his throat a bit tighter and just like that…it’s over.

The two of you cum together, the room filling with moans and gasps and promises. He settles beneath you while you ride out the rest of your high but he makes sure to keep his arm around you through every second.

Once you finally catch your breath, he hums. “God-fucking-damn.”

You grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He turns to see you. “I think I’m pregnant.”

You roll your eyes with a swat to his chest but you’re laughing. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet you still like me.”

“I never said that.”

“You said I’m your favorite person.”

“Yeah, well, I lied.”

“Right.” He helps you ease him out before he’s flipping you around and moving himself between your legs.

You blink. “What the hell are you doing?”

He lifts two fingers and eases them along your swollen pussy. Collecting the white, sticky substance already leaking out before easily pushing it back in.

“Harry,” you scold. “I think we’ve had enough breeding for one day.”

He smirks. “Relax, Tink, m’not breeding you. I just…like to see it drip out.”

Your heart leaps. “…oh.”

“Yeah.” He rests his cheek against the inside of your thigh in order to watch. “S’always so fucking pretty.”

You reach down and card your fingers through his sweaty curls. Happy and content for the first time in days.

He looks up. “One day,” he promises, even though it sounds more like a question.

But somehow, in this moment, it makes everything else worth it.

You grin.

“One day.”

AAA I can’t believe we finally did it!! I’m not gonna lie them being soft with each other is gross 😭 BUT ALSO CUTE!! YAY PROGRESS!!

Thank you so much for reading and for always being so nice!! 🥹💞💞 and of course thank you for the amazing idea hehe

Also, if you see any mistakes……no you don’t 🫶

~ Full 404 Masterlist

Taglist:

@littlenatilda @prettythingsworld @heartateasee @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @monicaalexandraaa

@cinnamonone @triski73 @lemoncrushh @vamprry @lady-lamb21

@lillefroe @kirstiea05 @ribbonknives @lunaharrygurl @harringtonhundreds

@babyyhoneyyy @swiftmendeshoran @sundresstyles @eldahae @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs

@hannahdressedasabanana @sykostyles @lukesaprince @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus

@lovrave @nuggetdean @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @babegoals @lc-fics

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hesbunnies · 18 days ago

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✨️ here's a list of my favorite harry styles smut one-shots ✨️

@hsjazebel

• back from tour

• choke

• harry in pleasure

• passion in tokyo

@adorebeaa

• driving

• honey, baby

• please you

• feelings

• pampered

• we’re in time

• undo me

• no loss

• reminder: birthday

• you could stay

• comfortable silence

@goldengalore

• intimacy

• scandal

• slutty little shorts

• rough day

• hardest to love

• a needy boy

• workaholic

@harryistheonlyoneforme

• spreading you open

• adjustment

• quality time

• wake up call

• restless

• focus

• tastes so sweet

• can’t get you off my mind

• i don’t wanna talk to you

• subspace

• harry fingering y/n in the mirror

• thigh riding and finger sucking

@whitemancumslut

• temporary fix

• grounded

• attention span of a goldfish

• harryween

• midnights

• the cute tutor

• princess treatment

@harryslittlefreakk

• little angel

• girl crush

• harry turns 30

• too sweet

@eveningepiphany

• and they were roommates

• hotel room

• learn to knock

• lessons

• innocent

• tease

@harrywritingsbyme

• 10 minuets is all I need

• a mess

• all the way

• be honest

• being of the jealous kind

• branding

check out all my lists here!!

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mommynott · 2 months ago

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Forest Fuck

Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Biker!Theo is back at it again, this time perhaps bikerbf!theo…Having his way with you in the forest.

Warnings:18+,SMUT,MDNI,biker!theo,bf!theo,dom!theo,degrading,rough sex,PIV

Smack! Smack! Smack!- The sounds of you and Theo’s skin mixed with your wetness are slapping together at a great speed. It’s all you can hear-Well that and the sounds of the forest leaves crinkling above you. “You fuck me-Fuck! You fuck me so good, Daddy” You wailed in pleasure, holding yourself up over Theo’s bike. Arching your back to give him an immaculate sight of your juicy and now welted ass. “Fuck me like a whore-Please…Please fuck me like a whore!” The moans slipping your lips only got progressively louder through his forceful thrusts.

“A whore huh? Such a-gods-Such a good fucking whore-“ Smack- Theo’s palm lands on your cheek hard once again, right next to the rest of the handprints he had already left. His arrogant smirk grew at the red marks he had left you. He rammed his pulsating cock out of your slit which was leaking with your juices. Staring down at the way it glistened, a low growl huffing out of his lips.

“Get up and hold the handlebars…Now.” Theo demanded as he gave you yet another quick slap across your reddened bottom. A playful and naughty-like yelp fell from your lips as you skipped over in front of the bike. Perking that delicious ass of yours up while Theo stalked behind you, his hands getting a good grip on your hips, bucking you backward. “You wanna be fucked like a whore? I’ll fuck you like a whore all night long-my dirty little slut…Fuck-“

Theo tripped over his words as he admired your backside, his teeth biting down on his lower lip while he teased his precum-covered tip at your slick entrance. He could have busted right fucking now, but he gods-He is too obsessed with fucking you. He’d fuck you every second of every hour. Every. Fucking. Day. “Y-yes….Please fuck me like your whore.” The sound of your whimpers echoed around the bike. Theo positioned his hands on the bike handles, over yours. Giving the motorcycle a powerful rev before fully slamming his throbbing cock deep inside of you.

“My whore. That’s fucking right-Fuck…That wet cunt feels so good gripping around my cock.” Theo hissed, his head thrown back while he rammed into you as hard as he possibly could. You were practically a fucking puddle, lost in a state of pure ecstasy. “You’re going to be my cumfilled whore tonight….because-“ He went faster, a low grunt breaking from his throat. Pausing his words just to be able to feel you….all of you. The way he slid in and out of you with ease. The way your wetness trickled down your legs. The way your pussy clenched around his giant length.

“Fuck- Because I’m not stopping. I’m going to fill you up-“ Theo proceeds to thrust into you even more rapidly than before, your eyes squeezed shut from the euphoric sensation coursing through your body. “Again…And again…and again.” His hand revs up the bike once more, just as you’re nearing your third climax. The sound of it muffling and drawing out the both of you. But it didn’t matter where Theo fucked you, because to him? It was always you. And it would always be…you and only you.

Dividers are from here!

This came to me randomly because I haven’t been able to get biker!theo out of my brain, so here’s this little blurb

Hope you enjoyed my smut sluts 🖤

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coryosbaby · 1 year ago

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Thinkin’ about Fred Weasley with a breeding kink<3

content warning . 18+, mdni

I feel like at first when Fred fucks in your relationship, he does it gentle and slow. Some people might disagree because hes so unserious all the time, but when it comes to you, he’s so passionate and caring. He loves to have you in missionary, with his palms splaying over your much smaller hands. He holds you down that way, his hips rutting into yours with precision, his lips glued to yours as he murmurs soft praises.

But when he discovers his new found love for breeding you, it awakens something in him. He goes absolutely feral— always trying to get you anywhere, during absolutely anything, his hands becoming exceptionally rough (with your permission, of course). He goes from fucking you sweet in missionary to fucking you like an animal in doggy. Instead of splaying across your hands, his palms are splaying across your ass cheeks as he pounds into you relentlessly. He leaves little slaps in his wake, as he watches the plump flesh smack back against his hips. He lets out the most sinful groans, his hair plastered to his forehead as he moves in and out of you.

“Such a dirty girl, aren’t you? Letting me fill up this little cunny like this?”

Your nails dig into the sheets.

“Freddy…” you whimper, your eyes rolling back.

“I know,” he breathes. “I know, darling. Such a good girl, so good f’me.”

You let out a cry, your hands reaching back to grasp his wrists. He grabs them instead and pins them behind your back, pressing you harder into the dingy mattress.

“Can’t wait to fill you up,” he pants, low and throaty. “Can’t wait to get your tummy swollen. Would you like that, pet? My children inside you?”

You choke, your pussy clenching, your lashes beginning to pool with tears.

“Yes, Freddy!” You cry. “Yes! pleasepleaseplease, needa’ make you a daddy, need it, need it..”

He lets out a chuckle, one that you will most definitely save into your mind for later, and you feel his cock twitch.

“You want to be bred, is that it? You want me to fill up all of these tight little holes with m’cum..”

It’s all he talks about, when he fucks you like this— how tight you are, how good you look, how much you want his cum, his kids. You absolutely eat it the fuck up.

And when he does cum inside you, warm spurts of white sticky liquid filling up your guts, he lets out the most guttural moan. His ginger hair hangs off of his shoulders as his head tilts back, his thrusts becoming stuttery. When he pulls out, his spend pools out of your raw fucked cunt and onto the bedsheets. He uses his fingers, presses them up against your sloppy cunt. He pushes his cum back inside with a grin on his face.

“Keep it all inside, my love. Stay just like that.”

And you don’t know how you haven’t gotten pregnant yet, because birth control be damned, the boy has creampied you so much in the past few months that you’re surprised you aren’t already in your last trimester— however, a few weeks from now you will be pleasantly surprised, shocked.

Because the pregnancy test, ladies and gentleman, will come back positive.

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley x reader #Fred Weasley x fem! reader #Fred Weasley smut #Harry Potter #Harry Potter fanfic #Harry Potter blurb #dom! Fred Weasley

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1800titz · 2 months ago

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ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ — ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ & ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇ

KNEELING LAMIA | Witch hunter!Harry x Witch!reader

There's too much tension in this cat-and-mouse. Inevitably, it stretches too taut and snaps.

★18+

This is ᴋɴᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ʟᴀᴍɪᴀ for the KINKTOBER projects. Witch x Witch hunter au.

If you enjoy this, consider checking out my patreon masterlist, constantly being updated, with loads of exclusive content. If you would like to see the other KINKTOBER projects and join the taglist for upcoming projects, do so here.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: enemies. p-in-v. degradation. praise. pussy slapping (light). dom/sub undertones. rough sex. bro is simply kind of an asshole, but it's in an attractive way imo.

WC: 3.7K

You hate him.

You hate him, you hate the grease in his derisory, lopsided smile, the one, two-tick at the corners of his mouth, like an omen on the hollow barrel of a cocked gun. The stupid white straightness of them, slick with spit and glimmering off the glowing oil lantern.

The soft humanness in his unchiseled eyes. When they’re narrowed into slits, the color is so soft, so delicate, that they don’t feel nearly as sharp as he intends. The preternatural juxtaposition of a human having eyes that are so mesmerizing is absurd— the pink-rimmed oil painting of his irises, mounted in white, under the tarp of his lashes (they’re long, dark, and cast shadows across the green sfumato). You can nearly find sunstones flecking like gold flakes wading the surface of a pool, if you look close enough.

But the bands are eroded now. Lacking. You always thought his eyes were like the moss speckling the grove in your back garden. Now, the vibrancy of it, crawling up the trunks, feels like a distant memory.

Smeared, pupils bleeding wide like spilled ink.

(You loathe the way his green reminds you of the malachite scattered across your window sill.)

You hate his hands, too. His fingers. The way they notch on reins, and the steel hilt of a gun. The way his pointer stretches across the metal trigger— click— and the way the aim is off. Misses. A bole eats the bullet, and you think, after so many tries, he has to not miss.

He has to not miss.

But he misses, and misses, and misses— the cat and mouse is an old, familiar game, but a fractured part of you thinks he misses on purpose. And you wonder who’s really the cat; when he’ll finally admit you’ve been filling his shoes out in the hunt, long before his time.

But you hate his hands most because of the way they touch you. The way they feel good. Pinching your bones in place, thumbprints carving into your skin.

Pressure points— he’s no good with a gun, but he’s good at finding pressure points, scoping them with his fingertips. Squeezing in.

You hate his teeth, because you hate him, and he hates you, and you want to sweep them off the floor when you fracture every little bone in the composite of his skull with your palms and shatter them out with your fingers. The way they chew into your nipples and stab a crushed squeak out of you.

(It’s the nature of the game— a double helix. Taijitu. Water and oil. You’re meant to despise each other, because dark has to exist to balance light. There has to be a villain in every story, otherwise the narrative collapses—)

You can’t stand the way his stupidly fat cock splits you on him, around him. The way when he groans, the way it starts as a hum between his ribs, and metastasizes into that yawning pry of his mouth, his soft lips.

(Conflict. Resolution. Recycle.)

His hand pawing at a handful of your breast, like kneading dough. Testing the heft when it shakes under the pressure of his hips slamming in wet squelches, sack slapping to your sticky cunt. The blunt of his nails scraping down your sides, prying in where your waist tapers, and wrapping the barbs of his fingers around, where the rungs sit at your back, to lug you against him in filthy, wet smacks. Again— again.

(Fuck, fuck, fuck—)

“—Fuck,” you mewl, scratching out at his temple, fingertips curling into the burnt umber tufts they can reach, pulling, tangling. Scraping. Your thumb grazes his cheekbone. He bites down on your nipple, instead, where he’s been rolling it between his teeth with his tongue, and grunts. It makes you squirm on the table and arch.

When he unlatches and lurches up to loom over you, he looks wild. Like an untamed beast— reminds you of the wolf that lingers by your doorstep— that you’ve lugged along into your kitchen. Let him splay you across the big, oak table that squeals and rattles under the punishing pace he’s set with his hips.

“Fuck— no,” Harry grunts, and slams your wrist down onto the table, beside your head, your stuttering pulse. Cuffed in his grip. Your fingers twitch. His throat bobs when he swallows.

The tip of his tongue flicks out, drags across his lips, and you think of a scenting serpent. He huffs.

“Ought to declaw you,” he muses, hunching over you, narrowed eyes oscillating from your nails to your face. Voice a husk that oozes condescension. As if you’re an animal— a feral cat that needs its talons extracted.

“Fuck you,” you spit, and the words— the petulant tone, the way your chest rattles when his cock throbs inside of you— are enough to crook the corners of his pink mouth. Wry. Acid across his lips, in the ridges between his teeth.

He sticks his thumb in your mouth, but not really; presses in against the flat of your front tooth when you bare your canines, squeezing at your cheeks. Pressure points— under the side of your mandible, beneath your cheekbone.

“Better watch that mouth,” he taunts. When his eyebrows climb, three ruckles seep across his forehead. Maybe evidence of how he means it, how firm his resolve is, but the way he tips his head down at you, it's goading—

Your chest rolls. “Fuck— you.”

And you get it. You do. Coexisting is an absurd, incompatible fantasy. Deluded, when you cup your teeth around the world and still feel hungry. It only stretches so wide before he’s under your teeth, too, and nobody wants to live in a hungry, sharp mouth. It’s a means of resource. Sanctum; I want sanctum, and you my friend, are preventing that like gum jammed into a lock on a gate.

This slow dance is called perfect, incongruous symbiosis, like a winter coat and the hot sun. You don’t fit together. You’ll never work— not in tandem.

It’s just that he doesn’t get that it’s the circle of life.

A snake and a mouse. That works. It’s unpleasant, but it doesn’t have to be watched.

But it’s ugly. You get the angry men with the pitchforks. You get him— vigilante, here to stab the head off the python with a wooden stick and wring his hands out after, like the hero he’ll be if he manages to tame the beast (glorified pest control— snub the snake in the backyard). You accepted a long time ago that all the little people would get mad that you were eating their little people.

Nasty, vicious thing in the back garden— get rid of it.

But hey— that’s life. The ugly, vicious wasp nest dangling off a poplar tree deserves to exist, too, because that’s the anomalous, hideous shape mother nature’s hand squeezed it into. And that’s, you think, the disconnect. The electrical cord spitting white-hot, fizzing sparks from where it’s been gnawed down the middle.

You swallow. His eyes are blade-sharp. So unco. Contemplating, calculating.

You get all that. What you can’t wrap your mind around is the untethered snap between you, like a bungee cord lugging you into a collision. It makes you feel feverish. The fracture in the foundation below you, every atom bred from this, predestined narrative. The sizzle beneath your skin— a charred brand in the shape of his kiss under the layers of your dermis— (a lowly mimicry of what lovemaking is, all teeth). It’s brutal. Sharp. A skirt of canines across your collarbone. A notch across the bone. A means to satiate, a compound of loathing, and pining, and the cozening haze of desire. The yearning curdled in the spiral of the communal pool of your animosity.

Because he smells like the rain rapping across your roof when you stand out with the door propped, sticking to the fireweed in rivulets under your porch steps. Like suede. Musk. The wilting coriander sprig on your altar. Your resolve is wicker snapping under his thumb. A melting glacier under the heavy heat dripping from his eyes. You don’t like it. You can’t get enough.

You tip your chin up and his thumb snags on the blunt edges, smushes into your lower lip. When his heavy cock slips out of you and slaps up against his belly, a whine prickles at the back of your mouth. You encase it with your throat like a dirty secret left to write on paper. You won’t whine for him. But he’s thick. His cock is stupidly fat, and it throbs like he can feel the encroaching emptiness between your legs for himself.

You won’t whine, but you feel hollow, and it makes your hips cant up involuntarily. Forward. To him— you hate that— but the stamp of his palm to your cunt makes your thought process crumble apart like notes plummeting off their bars on a sheet of music. A smack of skin on skin is the aria of your twisted affection stretching and collapsing.

It doesn’t hurt. Not really. There’s a dull pang that blooms there, under his touch, but it feels smothered under the white-hot lightning streak of shock that jolts your shoulders and sculpts your face. The mortified, blistering heat that spumes your cheeks when the whites of your eyes pool a little wider. You flounder up at him wordlessly.

Harry hums. It’s haughty, and mocking, and it makes something ripple in your underbelly. “Say that again, little girl?”

You swallow. Squirm. The pseudonym has something bristling in your chest. You’re not a little girl. This thicket has belonged to you for hundreds of years.

But the warm prickle between your thighs is an ugly, ugly paradox.

And you hate the way his hand is this humongous thing between your thighs, across your sex, swallowing your smarting cunt in the cup of his palm. The way he leaves it where it landed. His thumb stretched out and lingering in the crease between your mons and your tucked up thigh. You hate the way you drool slick against his fingers, the way your clit pulses under the heel of his hand. Your chest rolls.

His amusement is acidic. Patronization sloshes off his eyes and burns a hole right through the layer of your mettle when he cocks his head down at you, the way your hips hitch. His lips twist. “Oh you liked that, did you?”

Your face pinches. The corners of your lips curl down despite the way your empty pussy flutters under his skin.

“No."

He makes a sound. A hum that granulates into a rich chuckle, and his eyes flicker off your face, to his hand, and back, and back. Something brews in the depths under his lashes, you think— a sinkhole cratering into the ground beneath the canopy of the woods, driving the forest ground out into a void— watching the breadth of his hand envelop between your thighs. Maybe at the molten heat, or the way he can undeniably feel you clenching up. Throbbing. Against him. For him.

“Is that right? Look at that, mm— drippy, little pussy,” Harry tells you, voice hardly over a whisper. The words are a livewire zigzagging up your spine, riding the arches of the knobs, spilling something noxious and cloudy along your cerebrospinal fluid.

It goes straight to your head.

“Needy, little cunt. Bet you could cum just from me slapping it.”

His middle finger grazes your asshole. Your toes curl, you can’t even argue, despite the vitriol puddling on the back of your tongue like stagnant water. He tips his head. Smiles. The flash of teeth carves an ache into you that makes your bones ring.

“Aren’t you… just the sweetest thing when you’re put in your place,” Harry murmurs down at you, eyebrows climbing, and he’s— unctuous. A headache. The kind that clusters around the arch of your skull and squeezes taut like a bundle of rubber bands. Talking down to you like you’re a wily thing for him to put into a corner, once and for all. Like your demesne isn’t stamped in his soggy footprints, layer after layer, year after year.

You bare your teeth and jut your chin defiantly, but then he drags his thumb down along your pebbled clit, and it makes your shoulders wobble.

You used to cut hunters down like the loggers muscling in on your timber. Hatred was a pearl folded into your heart. A bead tucked into the soft, fleshy tissue between the little pockets of your ventricles, and it stung like a splinter in your gums.

You wear it in your chest like his name shaved into a rib. The perfect harmony of dysfunction. You don’t know why being under him kindles a flame. Just that it does. He’s live coal, and you crackle over what he gives you.

The moment of reticence between you has that shattering weight of your little truce, and you’re reminded of the plunge from the hillscape of your dignity.

Maybe it’s worse that you don’t mind.

His shoulders swell. You like the spit-slick rim of his mouth, the way the color is an insignia of your teeth making landfall.

“Are you gonna be a good girl?”

When he plants his hand beside your ear and stretches forward a little more, his cockhead slips across your clit. Hot, like a firebrand coated in sateen. You curl your fingers and realize your wrist is still pinned down. His eyes sway to it like he knows what you’re thinking, and his mouth twitches.

“Gonna keep your hands to yourself?” Harry purrs, grunting when you roll your chin away in scorn.

“Because—“ His finger prods onto your cheek. Then, two. Under your jaw, enough pressure to turn your head. “You know I love that wild shit. But, can’t have you fucking up my pretty face—“

The humor coagulating his tone tastes bitter when you breathe it from the air. Swallowing it down into your lungs where it ghosts with the subatomic heaviness of want. Your eyes flit. You hate him— you hate—

He grins down at you. Not quite. Close-lipped, eyes vats that shelter his dogma. The intensity of his seriousness. “Can’t do that,” he muses, but his tone is softer than his countenance.

You look away. And you don’t watch it, but he huffs, like he’s losing patience for your still-not-quite-subservience and lack of zeal. His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath. Hums.

“Mm. Come on, doll. You know I don’t want you if you don’t want me,” he tells you, but his mouth crooks because he knows— he knows.

You blink up at him. His eyes burn down at you from the bridge of his nose, and it feels like you’ve been swaddled into a sudden, wet heatwave. The words would nearly be considerate if it wasn’t for the condescending undertow that spills under the vowels like an oil slick.

His pointer traces the corner of your mouth, brows furrowing as he tails the motion with his gaze. “Just you say the word.”

And despite the way you blister, something itching under your skin, you won’t. Your teeth are clenched, but you couldn’t pry them apart with pliers to turn him down, not with the fever spilling its way across you. You settle for contempt— let it set your face like a cast congealing, but he doesn’t chase the tail of your indignation with anything beyond mockery.

He stares back at you. Doesn’t let it wither, drowns in the deluge of your inkpools, mouth curling but-not-quite.

“No,” he sighs, after a beat of your lull— bereft of your protest— drawing his forefinger away and slinking it down the naked space of your sternum, then around your swollen nipple. You gnaw into your cheek. “You know what I think?”

“—I don’t care,” you pick your head up to hiss.

You expect to face something crumbling at the retort. Discipline. Retribution— to watch something clot inside of him the way it wads in your chest, caking gravity across his features because— need to be taught a lesson in respect. What did I say about watching that mouth?

But it flickers over him without a hitch. Slides off.

Instead, he doubles down, hunching back over you. “I think you love this cock too much. Don’t you? Got you wrapped around it, by now.”

The flame from your core licks up to flare at the apples of your cheeks. He breathes when he straightens out. Deep. Like the prelude to a sigh, and you wonder if the same burning kisses along the nooks of his lungs. You don’t say anything, and he pulls his hand back.

“That’s right,” Harry coos, cocking his head down at you, “Just a sweet, cockdrunk, little whore, by now.”

Your eyes narrow into thin slits. Dagger splits. The wobble in your voice is a swordblade. “Shut— up.”

He laughs. Laughs. This muted, soundless thing that manifests more in his shoulders, the jolt across their breadth. The crater beside a smile line. He shakes his head, and cups the root of his cock with his fist. Your eyes follow it. You swallow.

“Mm, no,” he muses, gaze pooling where the mushroomed ridges of his tip slide along your sopping rim, your puffy lips, your clit, “I think you like it. Gushing all over the table.”

Embarrassment ties its tendrils along the base of your throat. Cogon grass germinating and feathering out across your esophagus, until you’re choking on your spit. You grit your teeth. Your hips nudge up. Forward. He underscores the presumption by pulling the head of his cock back, and sundering the string of tacky slick that’d stretched between him and your seam.

“Makin’ a fucking mess with your messy, desperate pussy,” Harry tells you, pressing his index to his thumb and prying them apart for emphasis. Your slick shimmers in the light. “Look at you. There’s a fuckin’ puddle.”

Your face creases. Cheeks buzzing, white-hot. You feel yourself leaking down along the cleft of your ass, and your fingers itch. A thunderbolt streaks across when you recognize that your hand is still flat against the table. Just where he left it.

He aims his cock back against you, so thick in his palm, and murmurs, “You want it?”

You don’t know how you ended up here.

You do, but the motions between point A and B feel like a nebulous smear. Hands in motion. Fabric tangling across the floor. Teeth, and tongues, and bones, and claws.

(“Always liked an older woman,” you remember he told you, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. The hubris of a boy sewn into the shoulders of a man. The irony of your preternatural youth folded into his proposition as his eyes roamed across your face.)

(“So let’s put …this,” a motion between with a jutted finger, a murmur drizzled in allure, tucked like a secret into the shape of the night, “aside for a time-out, you and me.”)

You don’t know why you said yes. How. Why your body reacts like he’s a breath you need, whispering along your lungs. Why you let him unspool you over his fingers, his tongue, fucking into you like he was starving.

But you nod.

You nod, and he presses his weepy tip against your cunt, and it only takes a nudge for him to pry you open around him again. Enveloping him. Sloppy, little pussy pulsing over the tip like a frenetic heartbeat.

You turn your chin and bite into your own shoulder to stifle the mewl spiraling between your tonsils, and he groans. The sting is better the second-go, but the pressure of having your rim stretched taut anew doesn’t lose its edge. The ache settles in your underbelly. Flourishes in the molten geyser of your arousal.

“Oh, shit,” Harry hums, pasting his palm flat to your tummy, right over your navel. Like this, you can feel his fingertips under your heartbeat. Across it. Thrumming. His eyes glued to where you swallow up his cock.

He feeds his cock into you slow, but it feels incongruous. The pastiche of what you’re feeling is already enough to cloud your head into delirium— you want teeth. Tongues, bones, claws.

“Harder,” you grit, catching his eye when he stalls, hand braced across your waist. You resolve paints your words firm, “I can take it.”

For a moment, Harry stares down at you. The whiplash of pause morphing to taunt, like a seamless rebound, has your rim fluttering over his girth. “My, my. Aren’t we eager.”

“Just—“

Your cosm ripples around you when he drives his hips forward, and lugs you back, hips colliding with your skin in a smack. A horrible, wet sound when he crams his way in, wedging your fuss back into the depth of your stomach. It flings you off your rationale.

He shivers. “God, you’re slutty. Slutty pussy on a slutty witch.”

The pace he sets is brutal. Merciless. It caters to your complaint, and squashes it out under his thumb. Under the kiss of his tip to your womb. Deliriously, you think he’s going to spill his hot, thick load inside of you, and then what? Then, what?

It feels like he’s wringing you out between his hands, until all that’s left is a pool of want.

You hate the way he’s chiseled in a place for himself. A tern across your branches, nested in twine and spare filaments of organs that belong to you. A little sinew peeled off of your liver. A sliver off your lung. Maybe that’s why—

You suck in a tight breath and let it rattle the nest he’s built, when he hits something unfathomably deep inside of you. Plugged on his cock, there’s no way for you to smother your moans out. He batters in to the hilt, cupping you by the waist, and rocking you back onto him, over, and over, and over.

“I want this sweet pussy to cum around my cock,” he pants over you. A curl has flopped across his eye, and your ire is eclipsed by your yearning. The ball inside of you unspooling as if he’s peeling the layers of muscle on your heart back like an onion to temporarily pluck out the undiluted loathing. “Do you hear me?”

It’s a mindless motion— your fingers creeping to land over where you connect, where he’s splitting your gummy walls to what feels like their ceiling. But he bats your hands away, and rams into you until your mons is kissing the wiry bed of hair that’s smattered over his shaft.

“It’s gonna cum around my cock,” he grunts, “or it’s not gonna cum at all.”

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