#mean!dom harry

[1800titz]

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.

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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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[oh-starstarstar]

Pretty When You Cry. | r.l. x reader

18+ post.

Angry, full-moon Remus. He's mean, beware. Like, really mean.

This always happened near the full moon.

You'd see him stressed out to no avail; cramming up all the books around him as if it was an exam, behaving like a gruff old man, and sometimes going without talking to you for an entire day.

Right now, you made a mistake. Doesn't happen usually. Even if it does, he's too sweet to say anything even if he is offended. But near the full moon?

Oh, no. Hell no. He's staring right at you, gritting his teeth so hard that the muscle in his head visibly contracts. You timidly close the door behind you, lip trapped between teeth, eyes not looking directly at his.

"Remus?" you say after waiting. He doesn't respond. You repeat yourself, lowering the volume this time, cornering yourself against the wall.

"What's next? What? You're gonna fuck someone right in front of me?"

You fidget with your fingers, ogling at the ground. You'd just kissed a guy. One he particularly loathed. It wasn't your fault―it was a game of truth or dare, and, well, you tried telling them to not force you, but they pressurized you anyways, particularly because they thought it would be fun to annoy Remus. So you leaned in, pecked his lips, and backed off immediately. You looked at Remus for assurance. You hoped he'd know that it was just a dare. Of course, he knew it, he even heard you refuse multiple times, but his anger was the more prominently functioning one here.

You walk up to him. "You know it was dare. I told them to fuck off so many times,"

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, well―" he turns around, almost as if he doesn't understand what to say or do anymore. He puts both his hands against the wall, leaning forward. Then he turns around again, face in his hands, clearly too frustrated to even get a word out. 

Maybe he'll spend hours in the library again.

Maybe he'll go smoke excessively again.

Maybe he'll start to become insecure about himself, again.

And you really don't want any of those things happening. You don't like seeing him like that. "You can take your anger out on me." You blurt before you even double-check your words.

"Hm?" He turns to you, confused, frowning, chest heaving.

"Take your anger out on me, Remus."

"What the fuck?" he's so confused. You never fuck whenever it's the full moon. He's said it multiple times, he loses control during that time of the month. He doesn't want to hurt you at all. "I'm not doing that,"

"It's fine if you don't want to, but just know, I'm okay with it. I can handle some hurt, Remus, promise. It's better than torturing yourself."

He considers your words in silence. He stands there, visibly conflicted, staring at you. "I'll hurt you." he turns away, hands running through his hair. 

"And I'd probably like that," you smirk lightly, hoping to lighten up the mood a little bit. You get no reaction from him except another huff, causing you to bite your lip in anticipation.

And then he turns back, hand grabbing your jaw harshly to push his lips against yours. It's harsh, it's mean, it's nothing like him, but you love it. Oh, you sure do. You whimper into the kiss, trying to move your head away to breathe. He doesn't let you go - his grip is harsh. He bites on your lip, pulling it with his teeth. You cry out in pain against his mouth.

He scoffs, pulling back. With your jaw still in his hands, he tilts your head up. "Look? You're crying at that. And this was, what, just a fucking kiss?"

"I wasn't crying," You pant. "Promise, I can take it," you assure him, both your hands cupping his on your jaw.

He stares at you. He's not one to be very, uhm, cooperative when it comes to his anger and the moon. His most preferred option is often caging himself away, mentally and physically. So you don't expect him to talk. There's two things that could happen; he either walks right out of that door, fuming, or―

"Safeword?"

"The usual. Red."

And then before you can comprehend, his hand rapidly moved down around your throat, his lips on yours.

His hand grabs your arms, 

"Shut up."

In a fit of anger, he doesn't bother slowing the both of you down by taking extra time to remove any clothes. Instead, he tears your shirt right down to the last button. 

"Why would you do that?!" You gasp, instinctively moving your hands to cover yourself. And though you don't realise it right away, but Remus pauses to look at you right then. You can't make out whether it's fury or admiration, but then he unloops his tie, roughly grabbing your jaw and shoving it into your mouth.

It's a mean gesture, especially for his standards, so it makes you look up at him with your doe-eyes in confusion.

"I told you to shut up. Already made it clear, and I'm not in the mood to listen to your shit at all today." He says, bending down to put his head in the crook of your neck, biting down on your collarbone as you whimper in pain. 

His nails roughly drag down your skin, making you squirm. This time, when you whimper, his head snaps up. His eyes stare dangerously at you. “One more time, and I’ll make you cry.”

So you shut up. It’s a little fucked up, but you are more turned on than you have ever been before. One thing’s obvious—he’s not usually rough. He’s gentle, calm, treating you like you’re made of glass. So this switch of his makes you throb. 

He lifts your one thigh up, putting it on his shoulder. As anger-driven as he is now, it takes him barely any time to enter you. Though your eyes roll to the back, farthest they can, you don’t make a single noise. You’ve never seen this side of his so… don’t wanna test it much, right?

As he begins thrusting in you, you don’t get time to adjust. His mouth is all over you, kissing, licking, biting; it’s wild—filthy, almost. Yet you can’t get yourself to hate it. Something about this sex-crazed version of his makes you so much wetter. Sure, his gentleness is lovely as lovely gets, but a girl needs her fair-share of fucked up stuff. 

“I swear I wanted to take you right there and show him. That smug bastard,” he groans. He roughly thrusts up, making you choke a moan. You look up at him innocently, just as you know it’s going to be hard to stay quiet. 

“What, something to say?” He pulls his tie out of your mouth, throwing it to the side.

You take the opportunity. “Sorry, I—” another thrust. “I’m sorry,”

His hand snakes up your throat. “Sorry’s gonna fix this?” he asks. 

You shake your head, feeling him fold you even more. “Can’t— can’t stay quiet for lo—” you let out a loud moan, hoping he’d at least casted muffliato on his way in. (...he hadn’t.)

“Simple fucking thing, and you can’t follow it? Can’t even shut up?”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” you whine, body jolting with his thrusts, your high chasing you. You clench around him, the action having a very clear effect on him. He furrows his brows, head bowing down. 

“Fuck.” he groans lowly. “You gonna cum?”

You nod. You close your eyes, bite your lips, waiting for the moment. He gets faster, thrusts harder, hand even moving down to rub at your clit. Then, he just… stops.

“Fuck!” you scream. Your leg trembles hard, tears at the corner of your eyes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, why’d you do that?” he had never done that. Ever. If anything, his main motive was to make you come every time you did it. 

He grabs your jaw roughly. “Gonna behave from now on?”

You nod. “Sorry, please, please, please,”

He snakes his hand down, rubbing at your clit. “Learnt your lesson?”

You nod. 

“Gonna shut up like I told you to?”

You nod. 

Finally, finally, your high chases you again. This time, you look at him with pleading eyes, as if apologising to him. You hip jerks up, legs shaking. 

“There you go,” he says, increasing the speed of his fingers. The knot in your stomach tightens, your whole body heating up. 

He stops. He fucking stops. 

This time, you try your best to cry quietly into the pillow beside you, body jolting.

“Stop it,” he says harshly.

You open your eyes to look at him. “Huh?”

“Stop that, the fucking sobbing.”

He manouvers you onto his lap, lifting you up and slamming you down on his dick. Instinctively, you head is buried in his neck, soft mewls muffled by his skin. 

When his hands tire, he simply lets you sit on his lap and instead lifts his own hips. Your nails dig into his hands which are still on your hip (to keep you from moving your hips away), soft moans turning into screams. 

You struggle in his grip. He grips your hair harshly, pulling you out of the crook of his neck.  "Yeah, yeah, darling. Push me once more, and I'll tie you up and keep going faster till you cry and beg me to stop. Then we'll see how much you can push, hm?" he seethes. 

Oh.

But fuck, the ecstacy you're feeling isn't going to let you stay still for long. You tremble at his touch, breathily moaning into his neck. At this point, you are overstimulated, too. 

This time, when his hand starts rubbing your clit, your head goes into the crook of his neck to bite onto his skin. 

“I swear, I wanna stop again. Wanna make you suffer.”

You shake your head vigorously, “No, no, no, please,” you begin to sob. Sob, really. 

In a fucked up way, it turns him on. During the full-moon, he’s not really… him. Some of his harsher sides come to play. So now, he wants to see you cry. 

So he stops. 

You sob lowly in his neck, body trembling. “Why,” you whimper. “please, Remus, please,”

“Sorry, darling. Just wanted to see those pretty little tears of yours.”

pussy down bad, huh?

[0oolookitsme]

Buckle up besties because I'm taking y'all on a wild ride! I'm hosting 'Kinktober', which means that kinky-smutty fics will be on your dash for the whole of October! We'll be celebrating for 7 days -- the fics will be spread out throughout the month. The titles and descriptions will be added along with the fics, and the schedule will be like this:

2 OCT, Mon: (DWD!Harry x DWD!Y/n) Guided Masturbation, Phone Sex

Been Thinking - Harry calls Y/n to tell her that he would be staying in the office for the night, but Y/n'd been thinking about him all day and just wanted him so bad. (WC - 1.6k)

...

7 OCT, Sat: (Artist!Harry x Housewife!Y/n) Praise kink, Face Sitting

Better than the Dream - In which Y/n woke up on rubbing against Harry's thigh in her sleep and when Harry offers to take care of her, she can't help but let her insecurities creep-up on her. But, Harry still ends up persuading her into enjoying her time while their toddler's gone. (WC - 1.7k)

...

9 OCT, Mon: (Model!Harry x Fashion Designer!Y/n) Mommy kink, Dry Humping, Mirror Sex, Over Stimulation

Another One? - Y/n told Harry that if he's good for her throughout their time at the small get-together, she would reward him at the end of the night. But, Harry ends up getting a bit overwhelmed, and then rebellious -- causing Y/n to, instead, punish him. (WC - 4k)

...

14 OCT, SAT: (Baker!Harry x Florist!Y/n) Thigh Riding, Teasing

The Thigh Tattoo - In which Y/n finally accepts that Harry's tiger tattoo is her favourite, and finally shows it some 'interest'. (WC - 2.1k)

...

16 OCT, Mon: (Footballer!Harry x Art Director!Y/n) Daddy Kink, Face Fucking, Breeding Kink, Praise Kink

Daddy of Three - Harry is such a good father that Y/n can't help but want another baby, and who is Harry to deny her what she wants? And, while he is going to be a daddy for two -- he can't help but point out that Y/n needs one at all times, as well. (WC - 2.2k)

...

21 OCT, Sat: (Singer!Harry x CEO!Y/n) Sir Kink, Degradation Kink, Choking, Begging, Spanking

So Despicable - In which once Y/n is home, she can't help but feel as if something is off with Harry. She only comes to know the cause once he's got her laid across his lap and is telling her just how despicable she is. (WC - 2.1k)

...

23 OCT, Mon: (Devil!Harry x Assassin!Y/n) Knife Play, Biting, Marking

Feel Special Now? - Y/n pulls Harry's leg by asking him why she can't mess with the devil. How else were she to feel special? Thereupon, Harry makes sure she knows just how many merits she has for being dear to him. (WC - 1.5k)

...

MASTERLIST

Please come into my inbox and tell me your thoughts, feelings, and favourite moments. Feel free to send in requests, and ask if you want to be added in the taglist for this! Thank you <3

[goldengalore]

Rough Day

Summary: For Harry, nothing makes up for a bad day better than rough sex. Luckily, he has his friend Y/N to help out with that.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: smut (friends with benefits, mean dom!harry, degradation, bondage, spanking w hands and belt, choking, oral, anal, use of ball gag and butt plug)

***

Harry slams the door behind him as he enters Y/N’s apartment. He texted her earlier to ask if he could come over. His message alluded to the possibility of rough play, which Y/N could hardly ever refuse. As soon as he arrives, she can sense the irritability radiating off of him. It shouldn’t excite her this much—her friend being in a crappy mood—but it does.

“Hey,” she greets him, sitting up on the couch where she’s been indulging in some online shopping for the past hour.

He just hums in response and drops his duffle bag on the floor before removing his shoes, coat, and gloves.

“Rough day?” she asks, studying him.

“You have no idea,” he mutters.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Of course he doesn’t. Harry doesn’t like to talk at the end of a bad day. He likes to fuck. Without holding back.

Glancing at her, he says, “Wait there.” Then he picks up his bag and heads into her bedroom. A minute later, he emerges from the room without the bag and strides over to her.

“Up,” he says, as if he were instructing a dog.

“Okay.” She sighs and takes her time getting off the couch to avoid seeming too eager, even though on the inside, she’s ready to do just about anything he tells her.

Once she’s on her feet, he simply says, “Clothes off.”

Again, she dawdles while pulling her sweatshirt off and fumbles with the waistband of her shorts, lazily inching them down her legs. Harry releases an impatient sigh.

“Today, Y/N.”

“Okay, okay!” She quickly removes the rest of her clothes.

The path his eyes take as they trail down her bare body sends the blood rushing between her legs. He steps closer and places his mouth over hers. His hands rest on her hips for a mere second before sliding to her backside. He squeezes it firmly, his fingers digging into the flesh of her round cheeks and pulling her body upward. She rises up on her toes and clutches his shoulders for balance. His teeth bite into her bottom lip. He tugs her even closer until her naked body is flush against his clothed one.

The kiss ends abruptly, leaving her wanting more. All of a sudden, he lifts her off the ground and slings her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing at all. Her upper body hangs behind him, her ass in the air.

“What are you—?” she starts, but he lands a swift smack to her rear, ordering her to be quiet.

He carries her to the bedroom and tosses her on the bed, not bothering with gentleness, then flips her onto her stomach. While she finds her bearings, he bends down to grab something from his bag, which is sitting on the floor next to the bed.

A moment later, her wrists are pulled behind her back and cuffed together. His hands wrap around her ankles and yank her towards him until she’s bent over the edge of the bed with her feet on the floor. She hears the clink of his belt buckle behind her.

It all happens so fast. One moment, he’s rubbing the tip of his cock over her entrance, and the next, his entire length is inside her. No warning. No preamble. A strangled moan escapes her mouth.

“So fucking wet,” he growls, grabbing on to her hips. “You like being manhandled and tossed around like a ragdoll?”

He doesn’t wait for her to answer before ramming his cock into her again. Usually, he’ll start slow and build up to a hard and fast pace, but today, he seems overcome by a primal desperation—one that has probably been festering inside him all day. She can barely keep up, but that makes it all the more exhilarating.

One hand pins her bound wrists to her lower back, keeping her in place, while the other grips her hair and yanks her head backwards, forcing her to arch her back. He finishes fast, emptying deep inside of her cunt, grunting and moaning with relief. She looks over her shoulder at him.

“That’s it? I didn’t even come,” she says just to egg him on.

He grabs a fistful of her hair again and speaks lowly into her ear, “What makes you think I give a fuck about your pleasure, hm? Sluts like you don’t deserve to come.”

He releases her hair and pulls out. Some of his come leaks down her inner thigh. Through the corner of her eye, she sees him reach down towards his bag. And then something cool and hard pokes between her legs. He presses the object into her slit, twisting it around, dousing it in her arousal and his come. It’s a plug, she realizes. A rather large one.

Once it’s covered in a mix of their fluids, he uses his free hand to spread apart her cheeks and starts inserting the plug into her tightest hole. He doesn’t really take his time. The rounded tip goes in, then the rest of it is hastily crammed into her. They’ve been doing this long enough that it slides in easily, but she still squirms and whines at the discomfort.

“Oh, stop whining,” he snaps. “It’s not even that big. You’ve had bigger things in your ass before.”

She scowls at him over her shoulder. “Well, if you think it’s so easy, why don’t you try shoving one up your own ass?”

He retaliates with a harsh spank.

“Ow!”

“Bold of you to talk back to me from the extremely vulnerable position you’re in right now,” he threatens, and the effects of his words are felt right between her legs.

He grabs something else from his bag, then tells her to open her mouth before shoving a ball gag in there. He secures the leather strap behind her head.

“That’s better,” he says. “Should’ve done that ten minutes ago. Only thing your mouth is good for is sucking me off anyway. Isn’t that right?”

All she can do is glare at him with the gag in her mouth.

“Glad you agree, love,” he says with a cocky smirk.

A soft, plushy object is placed in her hand—the squeaky toy they use in place of the safeword when she’s bound and gagged. Then he folds his belt in half and gently glides the cool leather over her bum. As soon as he raises the belt, she tenses and screws her eyes shut, bracing herself for the first strike. When it doesn’t come, she relaxes a bit and opens one eye, falling for the same trick he’s used on her countless times.

The belt smacks against her ass. She cries out. A second smack makes her knees buckle, dragging her down a bit.

“Stay still,” he orders.

It’s a good thing she’s gagged because she definitely would’ve answered back with a snarky comment and made things worse for herself.

He whips her with the belt several times in a row. Her ass clenches around the plug each time. He pauses only briefly to run his hands over the bright red marks now decorating her backside, like an artist proudly inspecting his work. And then he’s back to belting her, occasionally aiming for the backs of her thighs. There’s no doubt that sitting will be a challenge tomorrow.

Tears stain the sheets beneath her while her cunt drips with arousal, the pain cathartic and excruciating at the same time. She comes somewhere between the punishing blows, too lost in the pleasure to keep count.

He eventually stops and tosses the belt aside, telling her to get up on the bed. It’s a little awkward with her hands cuffed behind her, but she manages anyway. Once again, he yanks her around like a doll until he has her in his desired position: lying on her back with her head hanging off the edge of the bed. Her hands are trapped under her but still free enough to squeak the toy if needed. He removes the gag from her mouth and instantly replaces it with his hard cock.

“Let’s put that whore mouth to good use,” he says as he begins fucking her mouth the same way he fucked her pussy earlier.

His tip connects with the back of her throat over and over, his large hands clawing at her breasts. He pinches and tugs at her nipples hard enough to make her body arch off the bed. Then he brings a hand to the front of her neck, squeezing it while his hips continue thrusting into her mouth. She presses her thighs together tightly.

Just when she thinks he’s going to come down her throat, he pulls out. She gasps for air. Finally, he takes off his own clothes and joins her on the bed, flipping her over onto her stomach. He uncuffs her wrists and cuffs them above her head instead, then lifts her up onto her knees and forearms.

She feels him tug on the base of the butt plug, fucking her with it a little before taking it out. He squirts a generous amount of lube between her cheeks and begins driving his cock into her ass but doesn’t get further than a couple inches. She’s too tense. It always seems to happen despite how many times they’ve done this.

“Gonna have to relax for me, love,” he says in the softest tone she’s heard him use all night. His hand caresses her lower back. He can be a dick sometimes, but he’s shockingly aware of when she needs a gentle touch.

“Give me a minute,” she says, steadying her breathing before telling him to continue.

He pushes in a bit more, then draws back and pushes in again, going a little deeper every time. Once the tightness in her muscles eases, he slides all the way in and holds himself there.

“Fuck,” she groans. “Fuck me.”

“Beg.”

Her mind is so muddled by the intense sensation of her hole stretching around his cock that she almost doesn’t hear the word.

“Huh?”

“Beg me to fuck your ass,” he demands.

That bastard.

“Fuck you,” she replies, though it comes out as more of a whine than an insult.

“I’m not moving an inch until you beg.” He grips her hips tightly to ensure that she can’t move either.

She doesn’t want to give in so quickly, doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But as much as she hates to admit it, Harry’s dick makes her weak. And the worst part is he knows it too.

“Please, H, please fuck me. Your cock feels so good in my ass. I need you to fuck me hard and not hold back. Just— Fuck! Just use me for your pleasure. Please.”

Finally, Harry’s hips start moving. He retracts them, then thrusts forward sharply. She cries out in surprise and relief. He starts pounding into her. Quick, sharp thrusts. One after another. With little pause in between. She would reach down and rub her clit if her wrists weren’t bound together. Fortunately, Harry has the same thought. His hand finds her clit, rubbing it in fast circles to speed up her orgasm.

She feels it crash over her moments later, igniting in her core and spreading outward to her limbs. Harry continues fucking her through it, not slowing down for a second. He tells her he’s going to come in her ass, calling her his good little cumslut and his perfect little fucktoy and every filthy word in the book, becoming more and more incoherent until he finally lets go with a deep groan.

Rolling over onto the bed, he frees her wrists and tosses the cuffs to the side, not caring where they land. Y/N lets her knees give out under her and falls onto her stomach with a soft thud. She closes her eyes. A while later, his fingertips graze the back of her shoulder.

“Hey,” he says softly, “you good?”

She opens her eyes and grins. “Yup.”

“Wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“You know that’s how I like it.”

A pleased sigh leaves his lips. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing the stray curls off his damp forehead.

“Thanks for letting me come over,” he says. “I really needed that.”

“Aww, you needed me?” she teases, knowing how much he despises the idea of “needing” anyone.

He scoffs and looks away, but not before Y/N can notice the blush creeping into his cheeks.

“You wish,” he grumbles.

“Whatever you say, tough guy.”

***

Thank you for reading!  MASTERLIST

[enalovesharry]

Out of a dream

summary : you and THE harry styles had a one night stand.. the night was a blur so the morning you wake up you’re quite surprised.

warnings : mentions of sex, swearing, fluff?? pls let me know if there was anything else!!

*HEY GUYS!!! first of all I want to thank you for everything on my first ever writing post, i know it’s not the best thing you’ve ever read, it’s definitely not the best thing I’ve written but I didn’t expect that much love. I’m so sorry for just disappearing, life has been very busy but I will get back to things soon! p.s this is how y/n will be in most of my writings, not shy, very outgoing and sarcastic!!!*

Last night was very much a blur.

The only thing you remember was drinking at a random club in the Hollywood Hills, then stumbling into a SUV before everything else was just a blackout.

Waking up to the sun beaming onto your face, your eyes flutter open, hand coming up to block the bright light from your eyes. Although everything seems quite normal, you feel a heavy thing over your torso and a soft aroma of a Tom Ford cologne, pushing yourself up quickly you scan the room, confused on how you might of ended up here.

Well, you already know because the most logical reason would be that you wanted to get someone’s dick wet. You look down to see if the man you pleasured was good looking at-least and-

“Holy fuck.” Your eyes widen, your heart beating out of your chest as you freeze. Harry fucking Styles is sleeping right beside you, curls sticking up left and right, you realise his face was buried into your stomach because of the red mark on it.

You also realise you both were naked, quickly scrambling out of the bed- or wait, his bed. You grab your panties from the floor pulling them up, panic mode absolutely activated.

You hear him moving on the bed, sheets rustling as he sits up, glancing to him he’s stretching his arms above his head, turning his head to you and you notice the panic now evident on his face.

“Hey.. uhh, are you okay? Did I scare you or something, I promise I didn’t kidnap you.” He watches you as you put on your bra, grabbing your shirt and jeans to put on.

“I didn’t realise I literally just fucked Harry Styles, sorry.” Looking into the full-size mirror he has next to the bed you fix your hair up, not noticing how he’s got out of his bed and put his boxers back on, you also didn’t notice how he winced from what you said, he didn’t like when he was labeled as just a famous celebrity a random girl had fucked after having the best sex he’s ever had.

“Hey, chill out. Calm down I’m not gonna like bite you or anything. Unless..” he walks up behind you, looking at you through the mirror.

“Harry, this isn’t funny. 15 year old me would be absolute screaming right now that I actually finally fucked Harry Styles.” Your face blooms in redness at the confession, you see him raise his eyebrows in the mirror, smiling.

“‘S really cute y’know, your dream coming true. You don’t have to go right now.” His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you back into his chest as you keep your eyes on yourself in the mirror, clipping your earrings back into your ears.

You practically lose your breath as his hands caress your hips, all you want to do is pounce onto him and fuck him yet again. But you can’t, you always tended to have attachment issues and having them with Harry Styles was not the way to go.

You had to continue on with life and hide the fact that you hooked up with Harry in the back of your head.

“I have to go, Harry. I have a home and a life, maybe we can hook up some other time in like 3005 or something!” You muster up a smile for him, turning to look up at him, his eyes shine a beautiful emerald green, a dimple pokes out of his cheek, his lips a beautiful shade of pink.

Oh you wanted him so bad again, you knew Harry, from his music of course but you didn’t know or let’s say like him enough to be a fan, that’s for sure. He tugs on your hips again, your hands coming to his waist to brace yourself.

You did wonder if this is what the routine was with all his hookups, fuck them till he was satisfied? Part of you also didn’t think so as he was such a gentleman.

“Come on, darling. Jus’ a little bit longer? I promise, this is not what happens wit’ all the girls I have seen.” The pet name makes you all giddy, your hand coming up to comb through his chocolate curls.

“Are you just trying to make me feel bad for you so then I can follow your music and promote it and whatever?” You ask, eyebrow raising. You see he’s taken aback by that, his eyebrows creasing.

“No, no! Y/N im so sorry if it looks that way, oh my god. I promise that’s not- that’s definitely not what I’m trying to do.” You giggle at his panic, a little surprised that he remembered your name.

“I’m just kidding.” You smile as he pushes his bottom lip out in a soft pout, without thinking you push up onto your tippy toes, pressing your lips against his soft ones, he kisses you back almost instantly, innocently pecking your lips a few times before he slips his tongue into your mouth.

Harry then lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he moves back to the bed, mumbling something softly against your lips.

“Maybe you could give me your number or something if I prove to you that the night was really worth it.” He pulls away, a smirk on his lips, you laugh, biting your bottom lip softly.

“Yeah, yeah. Dream on Watermelon Sugar singer.”

You see a spark in his eyes and as he leans back in to kiss you again your vision goes black.

You feel heat on your body and your eyes snap open, the sun beaming on you, yet again. You look around the room, sitting up, you’re in your own room. You look beside you, a messy empty spot beside you.

Your head then whips to someone walking into the bedroom, it was your fiancée, a bright smile planted on his face seeing you’re finally awake.

“You were having a good dream so I didn’t want to wake you, sounded like you were having fun.” He wiggles his eyebrows, coming to move onto the bed, pulling you into his chest.

“Yeah, it was about the first time i met you.” You plant a kiss onto his bare chest, arms wrapping around his waist.

“Ohh, s’right when I was Watermelon Sugar boy.” He smiles, kissing the top of your head. “Lucky you finally gave into giving me your number and accepted me into your life, hey? Now m’getting married to my one night stand in two weeks.”

“You’re still a loser, Harry. And no I’m still not following your Spotify even when we’re married.” You mumble against him.

“Dang it.”

hehe lol this has no plot xx

dividers by @firefly-graphics 🤍

[stylesloveclub]

Pleasing (vday blurb)

In which Harry takes y/n out for valentines day, and y/n gets a bit handsy when she's drunk. :)

+++

Harry’s hand grazes y/n’s face, pushing the hair out of her eyes. They’re cuddled up in his bed together, y/n scrolling mindlessly on her phone while Harry just sort of… lies there and stares at her. Her eyes glimmer with the light of her screen, distracted and unaware of how Harry’s eyes flicker across her face. He doesn’t mind how distracted she is, though, because it means he can stare at her as much as he wants (without her getting shy and hiding away).

“Baby,” he whispers, running his thumb over her cheekbone. 

“Hm?” she doesn’t look up from her phone, but kisses the pad of his finger as he traces over her lips. 

“What’s your schedule like on Tuesday?”

“Um…” she locks her phone and throws it down on the bed, rubbing her eyes sleepily as she tries to remember what she has planned for the upcoming week. “I have class at 10, and then my last class ends at two…”

“Are you working?” he asks, resting his hand on her hip and pulling her close. 

“No…” Harry’s thigh makes its way between her legs, tangling their limbs together now that she’s finally off her phone. “S’weird cos I always get scheduled on Tuesdays. Dunno why Alfredo decided not to this week.” 

Harry hides his smile, already knowing the answer to that. He specifically made sure that she wouldn’t be working on this special night. 

“So you’re free then?” 

“Yeah, I should be.” she says with a cute smile, excited that Harry’s hinting at doing something special together. “Why?”

He chuckles. “Do you even know what next Tuesday is?”

She furrows her brows at him, still smiling, but a bit confused. “Um…” she pulls out her phone and opens up her calendar. “Next tuesday… the 14th of February…” her breath catches in her throat and she looks up at him with round, soft eyes. “Oh.”

His eyes are warm as he laughs, crinkling softly in the corners. She’s adorable, the way she looks up at him with such wide, surprised eyes, looking like he just asked her to marry him when he literally only brought up valentines day. It makes his heart melt, his sweet, precious girlfriend, so easily excited and happy. Like a little bundle of sunshine lying right in his arms. 

For her entire life, she’s always been alone on Valentine’s day. She’s never had someone buy her flowers or take her out for dinner on that special day… she’s usually just at home, by herself, studying or doing laundry as if it were any other day of the year. She’s spent so many years ignoring the fact that it was even a holiday… that she totally forgot that it was coming up this month. 

But Harry remembered. 

“Can I take you out, baby? Will you be my valentine?”

Her heart flutters as Harry whispers to her softly, looking into his eyes and just drowning in the adoration that fills them. His eyes are always so warm, so loving and kind, communicating so much to her without having to say anything. It overwhelms her, how wonderful and perfect he is. She hides herself in his chest, whining softly. He’s the sweetest in the world and it makes her want to cry. 

Harry laughs, and y/n can feel the deep vibrations rumbling through his chest. “Why’re you hiding?” he asks, the smile evident in his voice as he smooths a palm over her hair. 

“You’re perfect,” she whines, burying herself deeper into his neck. She never in a million years thought that she’d be lucky enough to have such an amazing boyfriend. A kind, sweet, handsome boyfriend who planned special things for valentines day, who coddled her and kissed her and took care of her so sweetly. 

She loves him. She’s bursting with it and it takes everything in her not to say it out loud. The three words have been on the tip of her tongue for weeks now, slowly growing more and more prominent in the forefront of her mind. It’s so hard for her to just not say, especially when he does all these sweet things.

He kisses her hair and wraps both of his arms around her, letting her hide in his chest even though he wants nothing more than to see her pretty eyes. “Just want t’make you happy baby,” he says quietly. 

She lifts her head and asks him with a shy smile, “What are we gonna do?”

He kisses the tip of her nose. “It’s a surprise.”

+++

After her classes on Tuesday, she rushes home and hops in the shower for a solid hour. She does her full body shower routine, deep conditions her hair and puts on a face mask so that she’s feeling nice and pampered. She’s planning on getting all dolled up tonight – she’s gonna do her make-up all nice and style her hair, wear a pretty dress and heels that she only busts out twice a year.

As a busy college student, she doesn’t really get the chance to make herself feel pretty. She’s genuinely so caught up with school and work all the time that she barely has an extra 10 minutes to do her makeup or pick a nice outfit in the mornings. She usually rolls out of bed and goes to class in her comfiest sweatshirt and jeans, with minimal makeup and her hair thrown up so that it’s out of her face while she’s studying.

That’s why these dates with Harry are always such a treat for her! He always plans them on days when he knows that she’s not busy… never during her stressful midterms weeks or when she has a long shift at the restaurant. He makes sure that he can treat her to a nice night after she’s done cramming for her physics midterm, so that she can really relax and enjoy herself. 

With no homework or upcoming exams, she has all night to get ready and feel pretty. Then, around seven-ish, Harry texts her that he’s on the way to pick her up. 

She puts on a coat and dabs her lips with a light layer of gloss, staring at herself in the mirror and taking a deep breath. Her heart flutters in her chest as she heads out the door, nervous to see Harry… not in a bad way, more-so a romantic, jittery, I-can’t-wait-to-kiss-my-hot-boyfriend way. 

Harry’s shiny black car stands out like a sore thumb in front of her crappy college apartment, big and expensive and an object of envy to any of the broke college kids who walk past. She rushes down and sees Harry standing out of the car, leaning against the passenger's side door. He smiles at her, that hot half smile that makes his cheek dimple. 

He’s dressed in a dark teal suit, with white stitching around the wrists and under the lapels. Underneath it, he wears a silvery blue silk button down, which he’s left unbuttoned enough to show off the beautiful butterfly on his stomach. His hard rings glimmer on his fingers as he waves at her, and as she walks towards him, she finds a delicate pearl necklace also wrapped around his neck. 

When she reaches him, he rests a hand on her hip and cradles her jaw with the other hand. “Baby,” he murmurs, flickering his eyes all over her face, “you look so pretty.” He leans down and kisses her softly, her sticky gloss transferring onto his lips as they pucker, and he hums at the sweet taste of it. When he pulls off from the kiss, his lips shine prettily with the shimmer of her gloss. She giggles and wipes it off with her thumb. 

“I love this suit,” she whispers, smoothing her hands over the expensive fabric. The silk feels soft under her palms, thin enough so that she can feel the hard ridges of his abdomen twitch as she gracefully dances her fingers across the material. Her eyes flicker over the dainty jewelry he wears, fingers coming up to toy with the cross hanging from his neck and trace the tiny pearls on his collarbones. The heads of his swallows peek out from under his shirt, and she swallows thickly. 

Her boyfriend is… crazy hot. His hair is swirled messily atop his head, a stray curl falling into his eyes, and his stubble… god, his stubble. She kisses him again, holding his face, his facial hair scratching against her palms deliciously. She loves the way it feels against her skin, ticklish against her soft cheeks. She doesn’t want to stop kissing him in front of his car, doesn’t want to stop feeling his stubble or his large palms on the curve of her waist, but he pulls away with a cocky smirk on his pink lips. “C’mon puppy, don’t get too excited just yet.” 

He opens the car door for her and holds a hand out to help her into the car like a true gentleman, but she hesitates to climb in. When Harry looks at what she’s looking at, he lets out a breathy laugh. “Oh,” he chuckles, picking up the bouquet of flowers that he’d left on the passenger's seat. “Forgot t’give you these.” He smiles shyly, the slightest hint of a blush growing on his cheeks as he gives her the bundle of pink and white flowers. 

She melts right then and there, turning around with heart eyes. “Thank you,” she says with wide eyes. She goes to give him another kiss, but Harry dodges it by putting a thumb to her lips, knowing that if she gets on his lips they’ll be standing in front of his car and making out for another three minutes. 

“No more kissing, puppy,” he says, patting her ass and urging her into her seat. “Don’t wanna be late to our reservation.” 

+++

Y/n looks around in awe as Harry leads them through the beautiful vineyard. Harry’s brought them to a restaurant, y/n doesn’t know where, but by the looks of it… it’s expensive. Their table is outdoors, on a patio that overlooks miles and miles of grape vines. The patio itself is covered by the green plants, climbing up the rails of the fence and curling over the patio roof over them. The plants are lined with fairy lights, a soft, romantic ambiance that’s accompanied by the gentle hum of the other customers at the restaurant. 

Harry pulls out her chair for her, then takes a seat across from her. Their table is set up beautifully, with a single rose sitting in a vase as the centerpiece, surrounded by tea candles that burn softly. 

“Harry,” she whispers, still looking around and taking it all in, “this place is so pretty.” 

He smiles proudly. “One of my friends owns it,” he says, grabbing his napkin and draping it across his lap. “We went to culinary school together.” 

Y/n copies him, happy to be here but a little out of place. She’s just a college kid, she doesn’t really go to fancy restaurants… so she needs Harry to hold her hand a bit and tell her what to order. “What kind of food do they have here?” she says, confused that she hasn’t been given a menu yet.

“S’not the food we’re here for, s’the wine,” he explains with a soft smile.

Her mouth rounds out in a soft o, and she looks around, understanding the whole aesthetic. The vineyard, the wine glasses, the wall of wine bottles that they walked past… obviously this place is a winery. 

“Excited to try some wine? Get a little educated?” he teases. She’s reminded of how the first time she went over to his apartment and he cooked for her, he’d brought out wine for her and she’d admitted that she didn’t know anything about wine. 

Harry, being the sophisticated chef he is, is some sort of wine connoisseur who manages to pick out wines that y/n actually likes, since she usually finds them to be bitter and dull.

She’d rather have a shot of tequila and get drunk quickly instead of having to sip on some yucky wine. But drinking wine with Harry is always fun, and she’s excited for whatever he’s got planned. He has good taste and she has no doubt she’s gonna love everything they try tonight. 

+++

“Harryyy,” y/n giggles, tugging at the lapels of his suit. She’s leaning all of her weight into him, arms wrapped around his neck in a clingy way. Harry wraps an arm around her waist, trying to hold her steady as he chuckles softly to himself. She is such a lightweight.

During the wine tasting, their waiter brought out four different types of wine for them to try, each served with a different meal. The first was a wine meant to pair well with their appetizer of fancy french cheese and fruit, the second a palate cleanser, the third a deep red wine served with their pasta dish, and the final one a sweet dessert wine that y/n really liked. All of those glasses, especially that last one, have made y/n tipsy and super clingy. She’s busy suckling a love mark.

“Baby, c’mon, we gotta go,” he chuckles, trying to coax her out of his neck where she’s busy suckling a love mark.

She bites down on his skin, then presses a soft kiss over the mark she made at the base of his throat. “You look so hot in this suit,” she murmurs, gasping softly in his ear as his grip on her hip tightens. Holding onto him tightly, she feels his biceps bulging under his suit as he tries to guide her discreetly out of the restaurant and into the car. Feeling how strong and muscled he is… mmm it makes her feel things. She leans in for another kiss to his jaw, then bites down on his earlobe seductively.

“Puppy…” he warns, voice low and daunting. “S’not the time f’that.” 

She trails a hand down his chest, teasing at the buckle of his belt, “But I want you daddy.” 

His jaw clenches and he tries not to react, looking around to make sure that nobody’s paying attention to how dangerously close y/n’s fingers are getting to his crotch. Luckily, they’re the only two standing outside of the winery entrance, but he still grabs her wandering hands and stops them from teasing him any further. Holding both of her wrists in front of her in one of his hands, he looks down at her wide, dreamy eyes. She bites her lip playfully and blinks up at him, feigning innocence. 

“Need you to behave,” he coos, the hand not holding her wrists coming up to thumb at her bottom lip. “If you’re good… then I have a surprise for you at home.”

Her eyes widen excitedly. “What is it?” she asks breathlessly.

“S’a surprise,” he says again, eyes glimmering teasingly. He loves his tipsy girlfriend, so sweet and easily excited like a little puppy. He just needs to get them home without her trying to strip him in public. “Can you do that for daddy? Be a good girl until we get home?”

She nods eagerly. 

“Good,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss her lips softly, like a little treat for her obedience. She looks up at him with these wide, dreamy eyes, and it makes Harry smile to himself. His little overexcited, easy to please puppy. 

“Now,” he smooths a hand over her hair, looking down at her with a soft smile. “Need to go say hi to Leo before we leave, do you want to come with me?”

She nods sweetly, on her best behavior. 

“No funny business, m’kay?” he warns. “Or else you're in for it when we get home.” 

+++

“Will you pour me a glass too?” y/n asks sweetly, sitting patiently on Harry’s couch as he uncorks the new bottle of wine. 

Leo, Harry’s old culinary school friend who owned the vineyard, had gifted them a bottle of the expensive dessert wine that y/n had loved so much as a thank you for coming to try his restaurant. This was perfect, as Harry, who hadn’t drank that much since he was gonna drive the two of them home, was ready to really indulge in the wine that he’d only taken a sip of at dinner. 

Y/n, despite already being tipsy from her four glasses of wine, is insistent on having another glass. The wine was just so yummy and sweet, with the aroma of berries and chocolate, it barely felt like she was drinking wine!

“I think you’ve had enough, puppy,” Harry says, pouring only one glass. If she has any more wine, she won’t be sober enough to even open the gifts he has for her. 

She pouts petulantly, “Who are you to tell me how much wine I can drink?”

He chuckles, beyond amused by her silly antics. She’s so cute when she’s drunk. “How about we just share this one puppy?” he tries to ration, “Won’t that be easier?”

She mulls it over, and remembers how sexy it was last time when he fed her wine from his glass. “Fine,” she sighs, leaning into him when he takes a seat next to her on the couch. The thought of sharing a glass with him and getting to suck the remnants off of his wine stained lips is the only thing that makes her agree. 

From behind his back, Harry reveals a small, Tiffany blue box. Y/n’s eyes widen and her heart stutters. “Harry,” she says, sitting up straight as he presents her with the gift. “Is this for me?”

He nods. “Open it,” he says with a soft dimple in his cheek.

She takes the box from him with wide eyes. “I didn’t know we were doing gifts,” she says with a pout. “I didn’t get you anything.” 

“Didn’t want you t’get me anything, baby,” he murmurs, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Just saw it and thought of you. Valentine’s day was just an excuse for me t’give it to you.” 

She takes the small box from him and opens it gently, as though she’s afraid of breaking it. Inside is a delicate, heart shaped pendant on a dainty chain, resting softly atop the pillowy satin interior of the box. She traces over the soft detailing on the small pendant, in awe. Harry, thankful, has good taste, and hasn’t gotten her an obnoxiously large or colorful piece of jewelry. No, this necklace is dainty and subtle, just the way she likes, and as cheesy as the heart shaped pendant is… it makes her chest grow warm with love.

Harry’s large fingers pluck the necklace out of its box, and toy with the pendant for a second. The heart opens up, and reveals a picture of the two of them. “Look, it’s a locket,” he says proudly, showing her the tiny picture hidden in the heart of the pendant. She gasps and holds the pendant up to her face. The picture he’s chosen is one of her favorites, from one of their dates in the park when she’d randomly asked an elderly woman near them to take a picture of herself and Harry. 

The two of them don’t have many pictures together, in full honesty, just because they’re often just spending time with each other and don’t have any reason to take pictures. But that day, there was just something that made her want to remember the way she was feeling. In the picture, Harry stands behind her with his arms wrapped around her shoulders. Y/n holds onto his forearms, giving a huge, cheesy smile to the camera while Harry gives a kiss to her cheek.

This perfect moment in time, captured and stored in this heart shaped locket that she could wear right on top of her own heart… it makes her lower lip wobble and her eyes start to tear up. “Harry,” she barely manages to whisper around the thickness in her throat.

Harry’s quick to put the wine glass onto the coffee table in front of him as soon as he sees the tears. “Sweetheart?” he’s confused as she climbs into his lap, settling herself on his thighs and burying her face in his neck.

“I love you,” she sniffles into his chest, her tears rolling down her cheeks silently. “I love you so much. You’re the best, you’re so special to me, I love you.” This entire valentines day has made her so happy, and the fact that she’s tipsy on wine certainly doesn’t help her control over emotions. 

He lets out a chuckle that's a mixed sigh of relief, “Oh, sweetheart.” His hands smooth over her hair, and he pulls her up so that she’s no longer hiding in his neck and he can see her teary eyes. “I love you, you know I do,” he says, rubbing his thumb under her eyes and wiping away her tears. “My sweet girl, I love you more than you know.” 

She sniffles, and more tears come rolling down her face. “You do?” 

“F’course, m’love. Love seeing you, love being with you.” He kisses her cheek. “Please don’t cry, precious,” he whispers, “it hurts me. Don’t want t’see you crying.” 

“S-sorry.” She tries to gain control over her emotions, but every time she looks into Harry’s eyes and sees the warmth and adoration pouring from them, a new round of tears comes. “Harry, I love you,” she says again, holding onto his shirt to really make her point. “Wanted to tell you for so long, I-I love you so much. M’so glad you love me,” she sobs.

“Oh baby, you’re gonna make me start crying too,” he coos, running his thumb over her red bitten lips. “Can I put the necklace on for you? V’been wanting to see it on ever since I got it for you.”

She nods, sitting back and letting the last of her tears fall. Moving her hair out of the way, she bares her neck to him so that he can clasp the dainty chain at the nape of her neck. The heart shaped pendant rests delicately atop her chest, right below her collarbones and only a few inches away from her beating heart. She looks down at the necklace, playing with the locket and clicking it open to stare at the sweet picture inside.

“I love it,” she mumbles, letting it fall back down on her chest so that she can wrap her arms around Harry once more. 

He kisses her, “I love you.”

+++

After the tears, comes lots of wine. 

Harry genuinely finds it impossible to say no to y/n when she asks for a sip from his glass, especially when she climbs on his lap and blinks up at him so prettily. “Please?” she asks, resting her hands on his chest and watching as he sips from the glass. She bites her lip, watching as his tongue darts out to lick the remnants of the cherry wine off of his lips. 

“Y’sure you can handle more, baby?” he teases, his thumb tugging her lip out from between her teeth and watching it bounce back into place. His eyes flicker down to where his locket sits prettily atop her chest. This was his girl, sitting in his lap with his heart hanging around her neck. He looks back up at her, and she’s staring at him–puppy eyes and all–begging for a sip of the sweet wine. “Not sure a little girl like you should be having so much wine...” 

“M’not a little girl!” she grumbles, though she pouts like a little baby. 

He hums, amused, pressing small, wet kisses up the column of her throat. She tries to be mad at Harry’s teasing, eyebrows furrowed with an upset frown planted on her lips, but she can’t help the whine that bubbles from her throat when Harry licks and sucks at her neck so seductively. He whispers against her skin, “you think you deserve it?” 

“I-I do,” she barely manages to whimper out. 

“Let’s see then,” he murmurs, bringing the glass up to her lips. One of his large palms rests on her hip, holding her steady while his thumb draws soothing circles against the bare skin of her thigh. Her head is spinning from Harry’s constant teasing, and her mouth is dry from the way she was panting while Harry was kissing up her throat. The wine is a welcome refreshment, the sweet, aromatic liquid trickling into her mouth slowly as Harry feeds it to her. Her eyes flutter shut as she swallows. She feels Harry move underneath her hips and tries to sneakily get one last sip in before he pulls away the wine glass… but she ends up choking as Harry’s fingers graze against her clit.

She turns her head away, coughing harshly, clearing the wine that had snuck into her wind pipes and using the back of her hand to wipe away the wine that had sputtered out of her mouth. “Oh, sweetheart,” Harry pouts, mockingly, “you’ve made a mess.” She tries to glare at him, but can’t as another round of coughs takes over. He pats her back soothingly as she clears her throat some more, his thumb wiping away the tears that escape the corner of her eyes. 

“You see?” he says when she’s breathing properly again. “Daddy was right. You’re just a messy little baby. Y’need daddy to take care of you.”

“You’re mean,” she sniffles. 

“I’m mean?” he scoffs, “How m’I mean, darling?” 

“Y-You’re teasing.” 

“M’not teasing, puppy,” he says, cupping her jaw romantically, despite his mocking tone. “I just know what’s best for you. You’re too messy.”

She humphs, looking away from him.

“Don’t be like that, puppy,” he coos, voice low and smooth, pressing a sticky kiss to her cheek with his wine stained lips. “Y’know I’m right.” 

She feels her resolve crumbling as his hands slide up and down her thighs, his breath tickling her ear and lips skimming the shell of it. She can feel herself getting wet as Harry presses more hot kisses against her skin, her breath catching in her throat. When his hand slides into her hair and tilts her face towards his, she shows no resistance. His lips find hers and he kisses her, slow and hot. She sighs into his mouth, always finding pleasure in the feeling of his lips against hers, even if she might be mad at him for being stingy with the wine. 

He tastes like the sweet berries of the wine, his tongue slipping into her mouth and sliding against hers hotly. She supposes this will have to do, sucking on his tongue and moaning at the sweet taste of the wine that she’s so excited for. Her legs squeeze around his hips as she presses herself down, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She pulls off of his lips with a quiet moan as she feels Harry’s palm grinding against her clit over her soaked panties. He buries his face in her neck, kissing and sucking while she throws her head back and rubs herself down on her hand. 

“All this for me, puppy?” Harry groans into her skin. “Soaked through your panties already, n’I barely even touched you.” 

She whimpers, embarrassed but not embarrassed enough to stop rubbing herself on his hand.

“What’s got you so worked up, hm?” His fingers pinch her clit through her panties, then slide down to finger her dripping slit. She hides her face in his neck, turned on and overwhelmed. 

“Maybe you like it when Daddy’s a little bit mean,” he murmurs, his voice nothing more than a dark rumble in his chest. Her cheeks burn at how easily he figured out the truth, how she gave herself away by getting so wet when he teased her, mocked her, called her a little girl who needed Daddy to take care of her.

The tightening of y/n’s fingers on his shirt and the fact that she refuses to take her face out of his neck while rubbing herself on his fingers tells him his answer. He chuckles lowly, trying to softly coax her out of hiding, “S’okay baby. Don’t be embarrassed.” 

When she whines petulantly and refuses to look at him, his voice turns stern. “Come on, puppy. Stop hiding.”

Oh and that voice… he’s just found out her weakness and is using it against her! She goes moony for Harry when his voice goes low and his grip grows heavy. She pulls herself out of his neck and looks up at him with wide eyes.

“Good girl,” he murmurs softly, petting her face, “Such a good girl for daddy, hm?” She stays humble, simply blinking up at him innocently, even though she wants to whine at him that she’s the best girl and that he shouldn’t be teasing her so much. She doesn’t need to beg, though, as he mutters to himself, “I think you deserve a reward.” 

His thumb, which had been tracing over her bottom lip softly, sinks into her mouth, her pretty lips parting around his thick finger as he pulls her mouth open. “Keep it open, m’kay?” he whispers. Her eyes glimmer excitedly as he slips the finger out. 

Reaching for the long abandoned wine glass, he takes a sip– but doesn’t swallow. Instead, he leans towards y/n’s open mouth and connects their lips, letting the dark wine spill from his mouth into hers. Y/n squeaks excitedly, finally understanding what he’s doing and lapping up the wine from his mouth quickly. Her fingers twist into his shirt unconsciously and she grinds down on his lap like an eager little puppy, trying to get as close to him as possible. She licks and sucks on his tongue, kisses him to lap up any of the wine left over on his lips, and swallows it down sweetly. When she pulls off, her eyes are blown out and her lips are stained red. 

That was more of a treat for him than for her, he thinks, with how eagerly she kissed him and rubbed herself on his lap. Harry can’t help the chuckle that falls from his lips, his cocky dimple popping out on his cheek. “See how much better it is when Daddy does it?”

She doesn’t even have it in her to process his mocking words, mesmerized by him. She wants to keep kissing him, feel his hands all over her skin, drown in him. She leans in for a kiss, but each time her lips graze his he jerks his head back, mouth open in a teasing smirk. She pouts, staring at him with wide, pleading eyes.

Only when she’s sitting patiently does he give in, pressing his lips against hers and kissing her top lip. She presses herself into the kiss, her eyebrows furrowing with need as her hands grip the lapels of his shirt. A soft whimper escapes her when Harry’s fingers are back on her core, fingering up and down her soaked panties and tracing over her clit. He sneaks his hand into the front of her panties, his palm sliding slowly over her mound until his fingers feel the soft bud of her clit. 

She gasps into his mouth as his fingers start circling, soft and gentle swipes that make her twitch. His touch is so light, his fingers barely pressing down… but still it makes her whine and whimper, a burning feeling bubbling in her tummy. She’s already so close, but can you blame her? She’s been aching for him all night, literally has been yearning to feel his hands since they left the winery. She’s been eyeing his hands, with his strong fingers and thick knuckles and veins running up to his tattooed forearms. His warm palm, which he’d rested on her thigh the entire drive home. His soft thumb, which he’s been circling on her hip all night. 

And god, he’d looked so good tonight!!! It might be the wine that’s making her so extra horny, but Harry’s just so… hot. Not only is he smart and polite and gentlemanly, he’s also the most attractive man to walk the face of this earth. With his stubble and his broad back and strong arms… his pretty green eyes and his lips… his cocky smirk… he’s just such a man. He’s not like the stupid boys at school… he’s her sexy older boyfriend who takes her out for dinner and then fucks her til she’s crying. 

His tongue slips into her mouth at the same time that he slides a finger into her slit, the thick digit wiggling its way through her plushy walls to pet at the spot that makes her clench around him. He can only fit one of his big fingers into her tight hole, and the fit is so snug that it makes his eyes roll into the back of his head. His mouth is open as he kisses her, half of his mind focused on making sure to pet her in all the right places, while the other half tries to keep up with her eager kisses. He’s breathing her in, lips puckering around anything he can reach and his tongue sliding against hers, desperate to just taste her even if it makes their kiss a little messy.

Her breathing stutters and a high pitched squeak escapes her when he starts trying to work a second finger into her. She squeezes tight at the anticipation of it, making it hard for him to get another finger in there without hurting her. “Relax, baby,” he murmurs against her lips, retreating the second finger and rubbing at her clit a little bit more until she’s no longer clenching around him so hard. 

“Feels really good, daddy,” she whispers, her mouth in an open pout, too overwhelmed to try and keep kissing him. 

“I know sweetheart,” he murmurs back, lips skimming over her neck as he breathes in her sweet scent, before migrating back to her lips. He groans out lightly as he attempts to sink a second finger again, this time proving more successful as her pussy flutters open for him. He curls his fingers against her front wall while his thumb continues rolling against her clit, a motion that she’s never able to recreate when she’s trying to do it herself. Any form of pleasure has been ruined for her if it’s not coming from Harry’s hands, or his mouth, or his cock… he’s set the bar too high. 

Their mouths just hang open together, panting into each other’s mouths as Harry’s fingers work her towards her end, their tongues touching and lips puckering every once in a while as they attempt a really messy kiss. 

There’s a ringing in her ears as her heart starts to pound faster in her chest, Harry’s fingers setting a rhythm that sends jolts up her spine. She falls into his chest, fingers digging into his suit and her face burying in his neck as she tries to catch her breath.

“Doesn’t it feel nice when Daddy takes care of you?” Harry murmurs in her ear. The wine in his system and his love for y/n have got him going heavy on the words… but she obviously loves it. 

“So good,” she whimpers into his throat.

“Y’like my fingers in your little pussy, hm? Like it when I rub your pretty clit like this?” 

She whines again, nodding her head but unable to formulate any words.

“Come on, puppy, use your words… tell daddy how much you love it.”

“Love you, daddy,” she says, fuzzy headed, just seconds away from her climax.

He chuckles warmly. That wasn’t what he asked for, but it’ll do. “I love you too, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her head. “Come on, cum for daddy. Let me hear you.” 

She moans loudly, fluttering round his fingers and rutting her hips as an orgasm takes over her body. With her head thrown back, she feels no shyness in whining out, as she cums, daddy falling from her lips desperately, which he swallows up in a kiss, soothing her through her peak. 

+++

The next morning, she surprisingly wakes up clear headed and well rested. With how wine drunk she was the night before, she’d expected to wake up with a pounding headache and her stomach turning uneasily. 

But then she remembers how Harry tucked her into bed the night before, how he’d taken her into the bathroom and brushed her teeth for her because she was too loose-limbed to do it herself. And then he’d slipped her out of her dress, kissed her shoulders gently as he dressed her in one of his big t-shirts, and given her a pair of clean panties to sleep in. He’d let her rest her head on his chest when they climbed in bed, and petted her hair while she whined about how much she loved him, chuckled sweetly when she started kissing his chest even though she was on the brink of sleep.

When she started to get fussy again, her pressed to his chest, “you’re the most precious thing in my life.”irt in an attempt to get him naked again in a haze of drunk horniness, he slipped his thumb into her mouth, let her suckle on his finger to distract her. He talked to her with a soft voice, murmured sweet words about how much he loved her. “Love you so much, sweetheart,” he whispered as she fell asleep with her ear words muffled by his thumb.

“Love you,” she whispered back sleepily, her words muffled by his thumb.

When he thought she’d fallen asleep, he stopped petting at her hair and tried to get up to brush his own teeth – but she whined in her sleep at that, her legs wrapping around his thigh to keep him in bed and her eyebrows furrowing as though she was going to start crying in her sleep. He’d hushed her, resuming his previous position as though he hadn’t even tried to leave, and stayed like that, just watching her sleep, until her grip on him loosened and he was finally able to slip away silently. 

He returned as soon as he brushed his teeth and took off his expensive suit, now lying next to y/n with his lips pursed in a sleepy pout and his eyebrows furrowed. Even in his sleep, he looks grumpy… it makes y/n smile. She smooths her thumb over the wrinkle between his brows, and he evidently relaxes in his sleep. 

She presses a kiss to his cheek, thinking that she’s being sneaky and sneaking a kiss before he wakes up, but when she tries to pull away he grabs her wrist. “Another one,” he mumbles, eyes still closed.

She giggles, and presses a soft kiss to his other cheek. “Another,” he repeats, and she kisses his nose. “Another,” and she kisses his jaw. 

“Another–” he tries to say again, but she cuts him off. 

“Oh my gosh, Harry,” she laughs. “Just wake up already.” 

He smiles at the sound of her laugh, a sleepy smile that's soft enough so only one of his dimples pops out. His eyes flutter open, eyelashes like delicate little butterflies, and his green eyes meet hers. They look so clear and bright in the morning, a spring green that glimmers in the morning light. “Hi,” he says, staring up at her, “I love you.”

Her heart jumps at those three words, and she has to restrain herself from jumping out of the bed to have a total freak out over the fact that Harry loves her. Obviously she loves him – she has for a while. But she worried that she’d been nervous that Harry wouldn’t feel the same way. Maybe she was just this over-emotional little girl who fell in love way too quickly, and if she told him… he’d be grossed out or something and break up with her. 

If she were in her right mind, she never would’ve confessed that she loved him in such a vulnerable moment. She curses her drunk self for being so loose-lipped… but at least it ended in a happy way. Harry loved her back! 

And it’s the first thing he wants to tell her in the morning.

“I love you,” she whispers back bashfully. Harry can tell that the three words make her shy, and it only makes him love her even more. He pulls her into his chest for a bear hug, arms wrapping around her and completely engulfing her. 

He doesn’t want to let go of her, wants to hold her in his arms forever and just fall back asleep like this… but then her tummy rumbles. Her stomach is always making some type of noise, and even though it embarrasses her, he can’t help the laugh that tumbles out of his chest.

“Pancakes?” he asks.

She hums, “Mm, yeah. Can I make coffee with your fancy machine?”

“Only if you promise not to burn yourself.”

+++

lmk if u enjoyed! check out my patreon for early access to the next pleasingrry blurb! :)

[daaydreamy]

harry styles masterlist vol. 2 . . . 🎀

here’s my second harry styles masterlist where you’ll find all my writings about harry styles!

★︎☆ ONESHOTS

photoshoot

- harry surprises y/n.

darling, i will always cherish you

- it’s valentine’s day.

nasty

- y/n loves harry’s ass.

greedy

- harry’s so… well, what do you think?

★︎☆ BLURBS

winner

hours & hours

pink all over

good morning

sight for sore eyes

proposal

all fun

just give me your body

look at me

love!

my love is yours

limits

such a tease

hot and bothered

little bug

after a long day of work

gentle

first time

always near

my only angel

i just want love

make romance

pillows

eyes only

pda

welcome home

all to myself

L-bomb

night out

make you want more

deeper and deeper and deeper

so blue

can’t live without you

compatibility

divine

sharing a bed

extra-terrestrial

not so tough

haircuts…

your mouth, my rosary

strange bliss

eyes filled with nothing but love

love can be so simple

your smile is so infectious

breathe me in

appetite

all for attention

sick to my stomach

unsaid words

[narrycherries]

✰ baby honey ✰ #2 (dom!harry)

Harry’s in a dom state and you’re being a bad kitten.. who needs to be punished, but you’re just so good at getting your way with him.. (dom!Harry concepts)

masterlist

baby honey #1 — join the tag list!

word count: 7.5k

warnings/tags: Harry x reader, domrry, dom!harry, daddy link, praise kink, oral-male receiving, sex toys, spanking, choking, cum play, punishment, masturbation, blow-job, hand-job, smut smut smut, mature situation

You had just walked into the big living room when you heard Harry call for you from the office. You spun around and headed towards him. It was unusual for him to invite you into the office during his set aside work hours - but you didn’t hesitate to rush to him. You missed him anyways, might as well take the chance to see him.

“Darling, are you downstairs?” He yelled just as you opened the big door.

“I’m here.” You smiled sweetly.

He sighed in relief and let his lips grin at you. “Lovey, c’mere.”

You nodded lightly and shut the door before walking to his big desk. He wasn’t wearing any fancy work clothes, just a tshirt that hugged his chest and his arms, and a pair of grey sweatpants. He patted his thigh as you approached him, so you gladly took a seat on his lap.

He pulled the side of your body into his, shoving his face into your neck. You gasped as his hands began to squeeze your hip and your thigh. He was acting like he missed you. To reciprocate that affection, you slid your arm around his neck and let your fingers play in his hair while your other hand rested over his collarbone.

“How’s work going?”

He grunted and buried his face further into your neck. “What have you been up to, my sweet love?”

You smiled, cheeks heating from his words. “Just watching a movie.. waiting for you to be finished.”

It wasn’t hard to tell that he was feeling a certain type of way, especially when he started to dig his fingertips into your squishy flesh and slowly rotate them. And when he began to press kisses to your neck, you knew for sure. Someone was feeling like he needed to take care of you.

“You smell so good, baby.”

“I took a bath earlier.”

“No, you smell good.. you smell like you.” He grunted as if he had been deprived of you for a lifetime.

You laughed gently. “Is everything okay?”

He shook his head, so you started to worry. You sighed as you put your hand on his jaw and forced his head back. His eyes were closed and his brows were furrowed. You leaned down and carefully placed a kiss under his left eye. He huffed, dropping his brows even further. You rubbed the end of your nose against his and he couldn’t hold back a soft smile.

“Somethings wrong.” You whispered against his lips, refraining yourself from kissing him. They were tempting, so pink and soft - but you didn’t.

“Daddy just needs to hold you, baby love. S’all.” He splayed his hands over your hip and your thigh and held his skin against yours. “Just need to feel my girl.”

“Do you need to feel me feel me?”

He gave you a gentle squeeze. “S’fine like this, baby doll.”

You bit your lip, a bit embarrassed by what you assumed. He noticed your sudden shyness, and he didn’t like it. You always had trouble being confident around him or anyone else - but especially him. He was intimidating and perfect. You never wanted to disappoint.

“Baby girl, what’s wrong? You were just so happy.. now you look sad.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then to your jaw. “What’s the matter, my baby? Daddy doesn’t like it when you’re sad.”

You shrugged, eyes staring down at his hand on your thigh. He was gently rubbing his thumb over your pale skin, causing goosebumps to rise slowly.

“Y/n.”

You sighed at the use of your name. He was very concerned.

“Tell me.”

Yet again, you shrug. “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, missy. Be a good kitten and tell Daddy what’s wrong.”

The idea of you being anything but good for him was frightening. You cleared your throat and squeezed your eyes shut for jsut a few seconds. When you opened them, you turned your head to look at him. His brows were furrowed and he was softly frowning. You hated that, you felt like you had done something wrong.

“Just thought.. that you wanted.. to.. to.. y’know.”

Harry always made sure he knew exactly what you were referring to - even if he had a good idea of it. So you weren’t surprised when he spoke and wanted you to continue on. He just never wanted to do something or say something you didn’t mean.

“To what, baby?”

Your eyes fell to his covered chest, you wanted to touch him. “That you wanted me.. like.. wanted to have s-sex with me.”

His frown faded. “Do you want to have sex, baby?”

It was rare that he straight up asked you that, it was always asked in other ways. You gulped gently and shrugged again. He didn’t favor that reply, so he gave you a stern look.

“Not if you don’t wanna..I.. I just figured.. you did.”

“Daddy doesn’t have time for it right now, my love. Let me finish this work and I’ll think about it.”

The pout on your lips made him frown. He brought his hand up to your face and turned your head towards him. The feeling of his fingers on your chin reminded you of the way he would force you to look at him if he got angry or irritated. That lead you to think about the punishments he would give you. How his hand would smack each side of your butt, leaving prints and soreness. Then, he would rub the pain away and plant kisses all over the marks he made. He would whisper in your ear while holding you against his chest, telling you how much he hated punishing you but you needed to be a good girl. The thoughts of punishment made your mind linger to the rewards. Eating your pussy out until your stomach dropped and you flooded his face. Fucking you slow and deep, shoving his cock so far into you and filling your tummy with his cum. You were so caught up in the memories that he had to snap his fingers in front of your face and give your thigh a gentle slap before he could get your attention.

You blinked and moved your eyes from his mouth back to his concerned stare. “Huh?”

“I said.. are you okay? You spaced out on me, baby.” He rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip. “You alright?”

“I.. I didn’t mean to..”

His eyes were soft as he looked at you, brows furrowed slightly as he tried to figure out what was going on. He dropped his thumb to your chin, only because you kept turning your head. He shifted you back, keeping a grip on your soft skin.

“Are you feeling little?”

You shook your head lightly. “No..”

Harry knew that just because he was in a dominant mindset, you weren’t necessarily in a small space - and vice versa. He could easily tell when you were slipping into a subspace, but he didn’t see any evident signs at the moment - that’s why he was confused.

“Hm.. what’s wrong? Are you thinking of something?”

You shrugged again, moving your hand to grip his shoulder. “Don’t you need to finish some work?”

He frowned. “No, ma’am. You’re not gonna ignore me.”

A groan fell from your lips. “M’fine Harry.. Daddy.���

“Are you just upset because I said no?” He asked with a sigh. “I told you I’ll take care of you after.”

“But you.. you never let me come in here.. unless you need me.” You huffed. “And I thought you needed me.”

He gave you pinch on your thigh, not liking the tone of your voice. “I do need you, but you know sometimes I jsut want to hold you, baby love.”

“But.. but I want you now..”

He shook his head, denying you of what you wanted more than anything. You didn’t tell him, but you craved to have him pound you. Feeling his cock under you made you tingle, even though he was soft. It was still so big and you wanted it to get lost inside of you.

“I asked you and you said no.” He huffed.

“I didn’t wanna then!” You whined back.

“Five minutes ago? Now you do?”

“Yes.”

He shook his head. “You had your chance.. And you know the rules. I’m working, baby.”

You rolled your eyes and lowered both hands down to your lap. You were resting one on top of his hand, but you weren’t making any efforts to hold it.

“Go back in there.. go do whatever you were doing before.” He instructed with a cold tone.

You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t wanna leave.”

“What did I say?” He sternly asked, hand gripping your thigh.

“I’ll be good.. I swear. Won’t say anything else.”

When you pressed your hand to his chest, Harry’s mood changed. He felt bad for being so rude all of a sudden. He understood your frustrations, and he had no reason to punish you. He thought for a moment, then decided you could stay.

“Alright. But stay quiet while I work.”

You behaved for a while. Harry let you curl your arms around his body and rest your head in the crook his neck while he read emails and replied to them, typing with one hand since he held into your waist. You tried to fall asleep, but you kept getting distracted as you thought about him. You kept imagining the feeling of his cock deep inside of you, the warmth of his release filling you up. You chewed on your cheek as you kept thinking about the way he grips your hips as he snaps his hips into yours, and how he grabs your throat when he’s trying to relieve stress from work. How he shoves his fingers in your mouth while fucking your hole. Every now and then he would grip your waist, and it would remind you of how he would let you ride him - but take over so he could move you faster, slamming your body down onto his cock. He always held your waist tight whenever he did that.

“Harry..” you muttered quietly as your fingertip trailed along the collar of his shirt. You rubbed his collarbone, wishing you could see him undressed. “Harry.”

He heard you both times, so he thought maybe something was wrong. “What is it?”

“M’bored.”

He hummed, but didn’t say anything. He was trying to focus on the computer screen. That made you even more impatient. You tapped the base of his throat, lifting your head some to see him better. He glanced at you, but hardly noticed that you were irritated. You rubbed your fingers over his throat, feeling his Adam’s Apple move.

“Can you take a break?” You whispered quietly, hoping to not make him angry. You could be a brat if you wanted to, but you didn’t.

He ignored you again, eyes planted on the screen. You huffed and pouted your lips out. Your fingers danced up his throat until you reached his jaw. You drew small circles over his skin, moving your touch to his chin. The stubble on his face always intrigued you, it made him look very mature and you liked it a lot. He figured you were just playing with the tiny hairs like usual, so he still didn’t react.

You occupied yourself with staring at his skin and messing with the hairs for a few minutes, but that also became boring. You trailed your index fingertip up the corner of his mouth and gave it a gentle tap. Still, no reaction from him. You started to mess with his bottom lip. You pulled the pad of your finger across the soft skin before returning it to the middle. You pulled his lip down, sliding the tip of your finger into his mouth. You got his attention finally, but it didn’t benefit you.

He grunted and moved his head back, your finger leaving his mouth. “Quit it.”

“M’just touching you.”

“Don’t touch my face. I’m trying to finish this stuff, honey.” He sighed heavily, but you could tell he was just tired not mad or anything bad.

“But I love your face.” You softly whimpered.

He shifted his eyes to yours, giving you hope. “Touch me down here or something, baby. You can touch my face later.” He grabbed your wrist and gently moved your hand down to his neck. His eyes moved back to the emails, and you were no longer his focus.

“Okay.” You uttered, barely moving your lips.

Of course you wanted to make him happy, so you did as he said. It took all of your strength to focus yourself on his neck and collarbones, hoping to pass time. Your nail gently traced shapes into the base of his throat. Your head fell back on his shoulder, your other arm around him. You felt safe, but you wanted to have his attention. In order to yet again distract yourself, you thought about Harry.

You thought about how he rubs lotion into your skin and brushes your hair before braiding it. You thought about how he tickles your sides as he plants pecks all over your lips, and how he sucks marks onto your neck to claim you. How he cuddles you on the couch under a cozy blanket. How he puts you on the counter as he cooks so you could be by him..

“Harry.” You grunted all of a sudden, not knowing you were saying anything until after your lips closed.

“Hush.”

“But-“

“Baby, hush.” He was still calm, so at least you weren’t in trouble yet.

A pathetic whine fell from your lips. “C’mon, please. I’ve been good.” Your hand moved to his nape were you held on tight.

“You’re not being good now.”

“Harry, please. I need something.. anything.”

He wasn’t looking at you. “You’re gonna get a spanking if you don’t hush.”

“At least you’ll be paying attention to me then.”

Harry shoved the keyboard away from him and looked directly at you. The way his brows arched down and his lips went to a straight line told you everything you needed to know - he was pissed.

“Watch the attitude.”

“Harry-“

His hand grabbed your throat and he gave you a squeeze. “Watch it.”

You nodded gently, nails scraping at his wrist. He shook you off as he removed his hand. He put it on your thigh, having no intentions of needing to use it again. You got the point, and you knew he was angry.

“M’sorry..” You relaxed yourself some, the annoyed tone no longer present. “Just got tired of being quiet.. kept thinking about you.. wanted to touch you.”

“I don’t care what you wanted. I told you to be quiet, and you said you’d behave. Which you didn’t.” He shrugged, acting as if he didn’t give a damn about your feelings.

“Please, Harry, don’t be mean. M’sorry. I am. I.. I just miss you so much.. you’ve been working all day.. just wanna hug you and kiss you and touch you.”

He shook his head when you tried to touch his chest. “I let it slide, baby. I let those little interruptions slide and you continued to misbehave.”

“Just cus I want you.. You always say to.. to tell you when I want you.”

“I told you to be quiet.”

You dropped your head down on his shoulder, hiding from his eyes. He sighed heavily, but squeezed your waist to comfort you. You felt very guilty for even making a little scene.

“Tell me what you kept thinking about.”

You swallowed as you realized he was talking to you. You squeezed your eyes shut and took in a big breath.

“Lots of stuff.” You shrugged.

“Tell me.”

You licked your lips, taking a moment to collect the thoughts from earlier. “Um.. thought about you.. and how you fill me up.. how you use your mouth.. make me feel really good.. make me cum hard.. And how you put it all the way in.. how you give me butterflies and shivers and.. and you. Just thought about you.”

He tapped your thigh, but didn’t initially say anything to you. Your heart was shaking in your chest, anxiety filling your bones as you waited. His hand slid down to your hip, giving you the idea that maybe he wasn’t that upset with you.

“You still didn’t listen to me, baby cakes. You know I don’t like it when you don’t listen.”

“Harry, I’m sorry.” You huff at yourself, disappointed by your mistake.

He hummed. “And you don’t like it when I’m mad at you, hm?”

You shook your head, but used words just in case he wanted to hear you speak back. “I don’t.”

“Tell me how.. you could fix it, hm.”

A nervousness washed over you, yet you spoke loud enough for him to hear you. “Can.. can suck you off.”

“Get on your knees, then. Make it up to me.” The pat to your thigh was an indication to do as he said.

You leaned up, hoping to get a kiss from him before you took care of what was growing in his pants. When you pressed your lips to his chin, you highly expected him to shove you away, but he didn’t. He groped your hip as your lips moved to his. He held you there for a moment, tongues not involved in the kiss.

“Go. Be a good girl.” He said as he pulled away.

You nodded and immediately slid off his lap and dropped to your knees on the floor. He parted his legs further and moved closer to the edge of the chair so you could have easy access. You were close to the desk, one wrong move backwards and you’d smack your head. He turned his attention back to the computer as he started to type. You knew you had a little freedom to do as you pleased, as long as you got him off in the end.

You pulled at his sweatpants, and he aided you by lifting off the chair for a second. He didn’t look down at you, just relaxed once you had his underwear pulled down, too, just enough for you to pull his hardening cock out. You smiled, happy to finally see it. It was growing, almost fully erected. You gave it a nice tug, helping the blood flow quicker. Harry grunted when you did it again. You glance his way, but he wasn’t watching you.

Impatience got the better of you, so you let some spit pool into your mouth before leaning up, mouth over his tip. Your lips formed an o shape and the spit fell onto him, coating his red, swollen skin. He was hard now, thanks to the firm squeeze you gave his base. You absolutely adored every moment Harry spent pleasuring you and treating you so good - but you loved to please him even more. Loved to hold his cock while you suck on the tip, loved to run your fingers over his balls and kiss over the small bit of hair. You loved feeling him slide his length down your throat, your tongue hot and wet against him. You just locked his cock - whether it was in your cunt or your mouth.

You use one hand to pump him slowly and tight, and the other gently cups his balls. He groans above you as you tighten your grip at his tip. You sat back on your legs to stare at his manhood. You were fascinated by it, so in love with every inch of him.

For a few minutes you just used your hands to please him, but you soon got bored and wanted more. Without a warning, he didn’t want one anyways, you took him into your mouth and moved your hand so you could take him down your throat. He grunted as he felt the warmth of your mouth. You held back a gag, and didn’t breathe for a few moments. Your nose got tickled from his hair, but you ignored the feeling. Another gag was restricted.

“Baby doll.” Harry suddenly grabbed your head with his hands and forced you off his cock. Your head fell back, eyes watering and lips covered with slobber. He sighed at the glorious sight, but remembered why he stopped you. “Do not hurt yourself. Go slow, angel.”

You nodded, eyelashes batting at him. He let you go and tore his eyes from yours. You continued, taking hold of his balls as your tongue licked stripes up his length, swirling around his slit. It made you feel like you had more power now - you could easily get his attention with a hard suck or a deep swallow.

“So big.” You muttered as you came for the tip.

He chuckled softly, but didn’t give you any direct attention. Your mouth closed around him, half way down his length. You hollowed your cheeks and held your breath. Harry wasn’t the biggest fan of you holding air in your lungs or preventing any from coming in. Whenever he put his hand on your throat, he never squeezed hard enough for it to hurt you. He huffed and gave your cheek a gentle slap.

“Stop.”

You came off him, gasping for air. When you moved your eyes to his, he had a frown on his face. You pouted, upset that you didn’t listen to him.

“Don’t want to listen?” His fingers grabbed your chin. It was wet from your spit. “Now you aren’t allowed to take me down your throat.”

“No, please!” You whined, hands grabbing his thighs. “I’ll be good, promise.”

He shook his head. “No you won’t. You can suck on me, but do not hold me in your mouth. Understand?”

You rolled your eyes, but nodded anyways. When his hand popped your jaw, you whimpered.

“Watch the attitude, babe.”

“Harry, I-“

“Nuh uh.” He pressed his finger over your lips. “Hush it.”

He kept the pressure there for a minute, waiting to see if you would retaliate but you didn’t. He moved his hands back to the keyboard and allowed you to continue. You gripped his base tight and swirled your tongue around the tip. He always liked that a lot, so you kept doing it for a few minutes. He groaned and dropped a hand down to the side of your face. You were pleased to know you had some of his attention now.

You sucked on the tip for a long moment before popping off. He sighed when you spit over the slit. You watched with a smirk as it dripped down his length. His hand slid into your hair and he held onto you, not tight - but hard enough to keep you in place.

A sneaky idea filled your mind as you heard him groan again. He was experiencing so much pleasure that you knew he wouldn’t want you to stop doing anything - so why not take the risk? You closed your lips around his tip and sucked on it for a few moments before twirling your tongue around him. He was releasing pleased sounds above you, giving you confidence to continue. Without any hesitation, you took him into your mouth and slid his length down your throat, or as best as you could without going to fast. He grunted at you, tugging at your roots, but you didn’t let up. You held your eyes shut as you kept him in your throat - cheeks hollowed around him.

“Fuck.” He blurted suddenly as he used both hands to pull you off his length.

You lifted your head and gave him a pathetic pout, hoping he wouldn’t be upset with you. Did he even notice? Or was he trying to edge himself? Sometimes he enjoyed that, but unfortunately now was not one of those times.

“You’re being a brat today, baby.” He said with a frown, disappointment spreading over his face.

“Don’t be angry, please. Just wanted to have you in my mouth.” You whined, hands grabbing his knees as you begged. “Please, don’t be mad.”

“Get up.” He said as he stood up from his chair, his hand grabbing your elbow to pull you up with him. “Turn around.”

“No, no spanks, please.” You whispered as he rotated your body and pushed you down, bending you over the desk. You braced yourself on the wood, trying not to knock anything off. “Harry, please.”

“You know better than to misbehave.” He sighed as he tugged your leggings down your legs, pulling your panties down, too. “I don’t like it when you continuously disobey me.”

“Harry.” You whined as the cool air in his office made your bare skin flush.

He was completely ignoring your pitiful attempts at apologizing and trying to avoid the punishment you knew was coming. “I let you get away with it earlier. I shouldn’t have done that, makes you think you can get away with every little thing.”

“No, no please. I didn’t mean to.”

“Didn’t mean to take me down your throat after i told you not to? Doesn’t work that way, baby.” He sat his hand on your cheek and kneaded your skin slowly. “You know I don’t like to punish you, and you know it makes me upset.. yet you chose to do bad things anyways.”

You shook your head a few times before looking over your shoulder. “Please, pretty please. I’ll be a good girl. M’your good kitten.”

“Don’t even try, peach.” He gave you a stern look before your head fell back down, eyes squeezing shut as you awaited the impact.

Harry pulled his hand back and slammed it down onto your flesh. You winced at the pain. It had been a while since you got this kind of punishment. Usually, you behaved. Harry did it again, this time a bit harder.

“Harry.” You whined, tears brimming in your eyes.

“Three more.” He told you, rubbing his hand over your skin to soothe you until the next smack.

“Just.. just five?” You were actually confused by that - his minimum is always ten.

He laughed softly. “Do you want more than that, princess?”

“No! No! Five is enough!” You quickly protested what he was insisting.

“That’s what i figured.”

He returned to your punishment, smacking you for the third time. You noticed that that one was slightly softer than the previous two. Maybe he felt sorry for you? Harry didn’t like punishing you by spanking - he actually rarely does. But you had done too much and he was fed up with your behavior. He knew that denying you of an orgasm wouldn’t be as effective as spanking, nor would not letting you touch him while he fucked you. Those things don’t affect you as much.. and he definitely knew that. Besides, those were punishments he gave when he really didn’t want to punish you. It hurt his feelings sometimes to give you consequences, but he knew you had to get them in order to learn.

“Last one.” He said, squeezing your cheek before bringing his hand back.

You whimpered as he smacked you, once again it was quite light compared to the others. You decided on not saying anything about that, just in case he wanted to make a point about how hard he could do it.

“Now, c’mere.” He grabbed your waist and turned you to face him. His right hand, the one that just did all the slapping, gently touched your jaw, lifting your head up. “I hate doing that. Please, don’t make me do it again any time soon.”

You pouted your lips out. “You didn’t have to.”

“Yes i did, missy.” He lifted his brows at you. “Lose your attitude.”

You huffed at him, eyes flicking away from his. He shook his head in disbelief at how you were acting today. You were quite hyper and sassy - it was unusual. He looked at you for a moment, then decided you needed to be punished in a different way, a way that would make it enjoyable for him.

“Go get the purple toy and the remote.” He let your face go and stepped away from your body.

Your eyes widened as you watched him pick up your pants from the ground. “Why!”

He chuckled at the fear in your voice. “Because i said so.”

“But, but.. I just got my punishment.” You whined, lip quivering at he thought of what he was going to do to you.

“You complained it wasn’t enough.”

“No, no, no! No i didn’t!”

He smirked as he sat back down in his chair, looking up at your half naked body. “Do what I said. And, you better come back in here naked.”

You knew you had to do what he said, so you didn’t hesitate to go to the bedroom. You stripped naked and grabbed the specific toy he wanted out of the nightstand. You didn’t necessarily like this one because you knew how he’d use it on you.

When you returned, he was sitting in his chair, arms crossed on his chest. You swallowed a lump in your throat as you realized he had moved one of the chairs from in front of his desk to the side - facing him so he could see you.

“Good girl.” He smirked as you handed him the toy. He reached into one of the drawers and grabbed a bottle of lube. “C’mere, sit on my desk for a moment.”

You did as he asked, sitting your feet on his knees and letting your legs fall open. He poured lube on the toy then put some onto his fingers.

“Someone’s wet.” He mumbled before rubbing your cunt, spreading the lube around your entrance. “Tell me if it hurts.”

You nodded as he began to insert the toy into your hole. You didn’t feel any discomfort, which was a good thing. Once it was in far enough, he motioned you to the chair.

“Am I.. am I allowed to make noise?” You asked through a whimper as you sat down, your legs up on the arms of the chair so he could watch.

“Yes, you are allowed to.” He answered with a smile. “Make as much noise as you want..”

“M’sorry. Please don’t make it bad.”

He chuckled as he rolled his chair back up to his desk, the remote in his hand. Without a word, he pressed a button and you instantly moaned from the vibrations.

“No, please.” You whined when you saw him press down on the button that increases the vibration. “Oh, Harry!”

He didn’t react to your cry, instead he picked up where he had left off on his computer. You kept sucking in short breaths as you watched him type on the keyboard, wishing his fingers were inside of you. You attempted to distract yourself from the heavy vibrations coming from the toy, but it was nearly impossible.

“Can.. can I.. can I cum?” Your staggering voice made his head turn towards you, a smirk plastered over his face.

“No.”

“No!” You cried out as he suddenly pressed the power button on the remote - the toy shutting off inside of you. “Please.”

“Hush.” He lifted his brows at you. “Rub yourself until I tell you to stop.”

Without question, you spit on your fingertips and dropped your hand between your legs. You knew that if you obeyed him, he would most likely go easy on you. His eyes moved back to the monitor, making you pout your lips out. Not only was he refusing to watch you, but he was making you get yourself off. You’ve become so spoiled by him that it felt unnatural to touch yourself. You were convinced that his hands were much better than your own.

A moan fell past your lips as your clit began to throb under the pressure of your fingers, even though you were keeping it light. Harry glanced at you, realizing that your skin was flushing hard down there. He licked his lips and decided to press the power button again, bringing the toy back to life inside of you. You squealed at the feeling, knowing that the lowest setting was on was quite intimidating. You didn’t know what to expect, really.

“Tell me how it feels, baby.” He demanded in a normal tone, showing no special interest.

You sighed gently, but managed to get a few words out. “Feels.. feels good.. kinda.. close.”

“Close?” He lifted his brows as his eyes met yours again. He dropped them down to your pussy, licking his lips again. He was very concerned with the state of your cunt, but he knew that giving in to you wouldn’t be fair. “Stop rubbing.”

You gulped as you pulled your hand away, letting it rest on your stomach as you closed your eyes tight - the vibrating toy was making your insides go numb. Harry knew you could hardly take it at full speed, so he didn’t make the decision to increase it.

“Pl-please.. s’too much.” You whimpered out, drool was pooling in the corner of your mouth as you let your head fall back. “Harry, pretty please.”

“Hush, baby love.”

A string of heavy moans fell from your mouth as the toy burned inside of you. It was nothing compared to Harry’s length, but god it was something. It was almost like a fire - the vibrating was so harsh that it felt like nothing was happening, yet your nerves were on their breaking points. An orgasm was building in your gut, ready to explode the second Harry allows you to. But you weren’t sure when that would be.

“Please, please.” You begged again, eyes opening just to meet his. Clearly his intention of ignoring you was no longer in play. “D-daddy, please!”

He smirked as the name fell so easily from your lips. Your eyes rolled back in your head, toes curling as you gasped, jaw slack. Harry’s cock was raging, standing tall and proud between his legs. He didn’t even put it away when he stopped you from sucking him. He had all intentions of letting you back on it.

“Look so good f’me, baby girl. That pussy’s soaking wet.” He turned his chair slightly to watch you better, his eyes flicking from your cunt to your face - admiring how beautiful you looked as you went through the motions. “Perfect pussy.”

“M’dizzy.. Daddy.. please.” Your voice was soft as you tried to communicate with him - it didn’t take much, he knew you were in your sub space now.

He could tell by the way you were shaking your thighs and gently rolling your belly. Everything was becoming too much for you, barely able to hold on.. It was nearly torture, but it was so good. Harry wrapped his hand around his cock as he watched you grip the arm of the chair, one leg falling as the toy buzzed deep inside of you - rutting against your spot. He reached over and picked your leg back up, helping you prop it up and rest your foot on his knee for support. You whined, reaching for his hand but he didn’t give it to you. Instead, he grabbed the remote and increased the speed some, making your eyes widen and your head fall forward.

“Fuck!” You yelled, your pussy tingling as the toy moved within you. You wished it was Harry instead, but you were taking it so well, just like you knew he wanted. You didn’t care at this point if it was the toy, it was something filling you up. “No, no!” You shook your head as you saw him pumping his length.

Harry smirked as you tried to kick his hand away from his cock. “I’ll let you finish me off, baby love, don’t worry.” He assured you with a smirk, rubbing his thumb over his tip.

You couldn’t care any more, the feelings of the toy inside of you was becoming too much. Your head fell back again, your fingertips curling around your nipple. You wanted to beg Harry, wanted to plead with him to please let you have an orgasm, but no words were leaving your mouth. You were good at holding them, especially when you knew he was watching - but right not you were struggling. Thankfully, Harry knew your body so well. He easily saw how your clit started to throb quickly, your pussy clenching again and again around the toy - he knew exactly what that meant.

“Cum f’me, baby love. Show Daddy how good that toy feels, baby girl.” He encouraged you with a groan, his cock aching as he watched you come undone. “Such a good kitten.”

That did it. You whined suddenly and felt your entire body shake as your orgasm washed through you. Your stomach churned and clutched, your guts tightening as waves flooded your body. Your thighs were shaking uncontrollably, the toy still buzzing deep in your pussy as it clenched over and over. The only thing missing was the warmth of Harry’s cum in your gut, but you’d get that sooner or later.

“Fuck, look at how wet y’are f’me.” Harry leaned forward, forgetting his cock completely. He cut off the toy and watched as you slowly came down from your high. “Such a perfect pussy, yeah?”

You couldn’t react, you were still trying to regain your strength and awareness. Your body jerked in the chair, your hand falling to cover your sensitive parts - the breeze in the room was too much for your sensitive nub. Harry knocked your hand away, making you whine, but you quickly realized that the warmth from his fingertips slipping through your small folds was comforting.

“Fuck me, you always soak yourself, baby. Got my chair wet, yeah? Fuckin’ beautiful.”

“S-sorry.. Daddy.” You whispered back, eyes finally opening to look at him.

“Don’t apologize for that, my love.” He smirked, moving closer to give you a kiss. “S’fine, baby.”

You gulped softly, reaching up to touch his neck. He smirked, nodding softly to assure you that it was okay - you hadn’t noticed you were hesitating. Your fingers crawled onto his neck, curling around his nape as you held him close. He hummed softly then pressed his mouth against the corner of yours. You let out a shaky breath, accepting another soft kiss to your plump, swollen lips.

“Did.. did I.. do good, Daddy?” You asked in a careful whisper, not sure if you were still in trouble or not.

Harry groaned softly against your skin, furrowing his brows as he realized you were still so unsure. “You did amazing, my baby. Came exactly when Daddy said to, yeah, always so good at following the rules.” He grabbed your waist and comfortingly gave you a squeeze, hoping to ease your nerves. “Daddy’s good kitten, yeah?”

“Mmhm.. thank you.. s’so good.”

He chuckled lightly. “Yeah? Felt so nice, didn’t it? Daddy can tell, princess. Your pussy is drenched.”

Harry reached down with his other hand and softly rubbed his fingertips against the length of your labia, avoiding your most sensitive spot purposely.

You grunted gently as he accidentally bumped the end of the toy. “Pl-please.. take it out.. m’really.. sens-sensitive.”

“Of course, baby.” He pecked your cheek before leaning back to get a better look.

Harry carefully grabbed the toy and slowly pulled it from your hole. You winced as he got the biggest portion out, then easily popped the rest of the length out of you. He laid it on his desk and moved his attention right back to you.

“Now, feel better?”

You nodded a little. “Can.. can I have your cum, Daddy?”

He smirked, in disbelief at how sexy you were. You smiled, moving to sit up in the chair, your legs carefully falling. You were sore between your legs, the feeling of the buzzing still felt very evident, even though it was gone. You ignored that and grabbed his cock with both hands, wanting to finally get his cum in your throat.

“Of course, baby love. Make it quick, yeah? Daddy’s got work to do.”

“Yes sir.. I’ll be good this time.” You assured him with a gentle laugh.

He licked his lips and pushed your hair out of your face as you moved onto your knees on the floor, your lips opening wide for his tip. “M’sure you will be, kitten.”

Without any hesitating, you engulfed the first couple inches of him into your mouth. He groaned, combing through your soft hair as he watched you pull him back out. Your tongue swirled around his tip, then playfully flicked across his base. The grunt he pushed out made you moan softly against his swollen balls, causing his head to drop back.

“Watch me, please, Daddy.” Yoh mumbled sweetly before sucking his tip back into your mouth.

“Fuck, baby girl, s’good.” His fingers fell from your hair, he felt completely fucked out and he hadn’t even come yet. “Take my cum, kitten.”

You gathered spit on your tongue and easily spread it around his cock. A second after, you were taking him down your throat. Harry sighed when you stopped halfway and pulled him out. Your hand wrapped around his base and squeezed it a few times, eyes finding his.

“Can I.. take you all the way?” You wanted to be sure because that is what got you in trouble earlier.

He smirked, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. “You can, baby. Be careful, yeah?”

You nodded and eagerly sucked him back into your mouth. Harry nearly busted as he felt the warmth of your throat suffocating his cock. Your nails dug into his thigh, your other hand covering his balls as you kept him in your throat. Harry groaned heavily, a burning sensation was growing in his gut. A few seconds passed and you came off of him for air.

“Fuck, kitten, just suck Daddy, okay? Just a few sucks and I’ll cum.”

“Mm, wan’ your cum, please.”

Harry groaned as you started pumping the lower half of him and sucking on the tip. He loved watching you come undone from his touch or his tongue or even his cock, but god he still loved watching you make him lose control. He loved watching you swallow his length and run your tongue over his swollen cock. He was so close.

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned out as you rubbed the tip of your tongue over the slit of his head, slow and hard the way he liked. “Gonna cum, kitten.”

You whined softly as he pushed your hand back and took over - squeezing his balls with one hand and his cock with the other as he pumped faster than you could. You stuck your tongue out, eyes barely opened as you waited.

“Oh, fuck.. fuck, fuck.” Harry groaned, his stomach in knots as he stared at your mouth - those spit covered lips and your widened tongue, his target.

Your hand was between your legs, fingers rubbing against your clit as you stayed still. Harry knew you were touching yourself, and that alone made him fall over the edge.

“Fuck, baby. Take my cum, kitten.” His voice was as low as it could go, a growl following his words as cum spurted in thick stripes from his swollen tip.

You whimpered as it covered your tongue and splashed onto your lips and chin, even a bit got on your nose. Harry completely fucked himself out - watching his cum land on your pretty face was euphoric. Within seconds, his hot cum was all over you and he was slowing down his hand. His thumb rubbed his tip, smearing the left over cum over himself.

“Fuck, look at you, baby love.” Harry sighed out, relaxing his tensed body in the chair. “Daddy’s cum all over you.”

“Thank you.” You said sweetly as you swallowed what was in your mouth and licked your lips to get more. “Love your cum.”

He let out a deep chuckle and watched in awe as you wiped your finger across your nose and chin, gathering the cum to pop it into your mouth.

“Is there more?” You asked, your tongue swiping your lips.

Harry smirked and reached down to your face, using his thumb to wipe at your cheek. You grinned and grabbed his hand, guiding his finger into your mouth.

“Fuck, you’re precious, baby.”

You smiled and shrugged gently. “S’my favorite.”

“Oh, I know.” He got the rest that was on your face and allowed you to suck his thumb again. “Clean my cock, baby. Want you to have it all.”

You nodded, letting his hand go so you could move forward. Harry shuddered as your tongue slowly swiped over his tip, ridding him of every last drop.

.

a/n: 🥵 I wasnt playing when I said this was just gonna be pure smut concepts … anyways hope you enjoy this update and are wanting more dom/daddy kink concepts! have a request? Let me know! Want part 3??? 👀

… part 3 🧡

[goldenharystyles]

DOM HARRY

Warning… dom/sub, sex toys, edging, overstimulation.

HARRY’S POV…..

"You're mine, aren't you?" I ask you as you nod your head and smile at me. "Good girl, now I want you to get on your knees for me," you comply. You move to the edge of my bed and put your knees on the floor. I get up off my bed, and I go over to my closet to grab something. You look confused but also excited. "Do you trust me, Yana?" I ask. "Yes, Harry, I do," you say as you smile at me. "Okay, good girl, now put your hands behind your back," I ask, and you do as you're told. I grab the rope that I had gotten from my closet and tie your hands behind your back so that they are locked. I make sure that it's tight so that you can't move.

"Now get on the bed," I tell you, and you walk back over to the bed and lay down on the sheets. You look so hot laying there in just your underwear with your arms tied behind your back. "Harry, this feels amazing," you tell me as I take my place between your legs. I don't say a word to you yet as I just take in the view of you laying there waiting for me. "You want to be mine, don't you, Yana? You want me to take control, and that's what I am going to do. I'm going to make you beg me to let you cum."

I start by taking off your bra and throwing it to the side. Then I move on to your panties, slowly taking them off of you and putting them on the floor next to your bra. I spread your legs apart and then take one of your ankles and tie it to one corner of the bed while also doing the same thing to your other ankle. Now that you're tied, spread open in front of me, I can finally start to give you some attention.

I begin by kissing up your neck and then sucking on your skin. I do this to your whole neck while also teasing your nipples with my fingers. You moan out softly as you try to rub your pussy against me. I don't let you do this, though, as I move back from you and get a feather from my closet. You look confused as I hold it up to you. "What's that for?" You ask me, "You'll see," I tell you as I lay down next to you and start to tease your nipples with the feather. I do this for a good 5 minutes before finally moving the feather down to your clit. I rub the tip of the feather up and down your clit, and you cry out at the feeling. I keep doing this for about 20 minutes, rubbing the feather on your clit and then moving it up and down the rest of your pussy. You moan and whine trying to get me to touch more of your pussy, but I don't. I only rub the feather on your clit not letting you orgasm. "You're such a good girl, Yana," I say, and you smile at me.

"You like to be treated like a slut, don't you? That's why you love it when I tie you up and have my way with you," I say as I keep teasing your clit with the feather. You can't take it anymore as you start to beg me to let you orgasm. You beg and plead with me to let you come, but I still don't give in. "Please Harry, please, I can't take this anymore," you cry out as I finally stop using the feather on you.

"Now I know you're going to hate this, but I am not going to let you come just yet," I tell you. You whine at me while begging again for me to let you orgasm, but I just smile at you. I get up off the bed and go over to my dresser where I keep a vibrator that I got for us to use together. You watch as I get it out of the drawer and turn it on. I come back over to the bed where you lay spread open and waiting for me. I start to rub the vibrator on your clit as you cry out again at the feeling. "This is so much worse than the feather, I'm so close," you whine, but I know that you're not. You're close, but you're not quite there yet. I keep rubbing the vibrator on your clit for a good 10 minutes before I decide that it's finally time for you to orgasm. I put my mouth on your pussy, eating you out as I still rub the vibrator on your clit. You scream out in pleasure as you finally orgasm.

I don't stop there, though, I continue to rub your clit with the vibrator after you orgasm. You start to squirm trying to get away from the vibrator as you're so sensitive that it's too much for you. "You're still mine, Yana, and if you try to get away from me again, I'm not going to let you have another orgasm. You got one already, and now you have to take the rest that I want to give you," I tell you as you whimper at me. You stop trying to move away from me and stay still as I continue to overstimulate your clit with the vibrator. I rub it on your clit in all different directions, watching your face contort as you try not to move. You cry out and try to beg me again to stop, but I tell you to be a good girl and take it like the little slut you are. You do this until I finally decide that I'm done, and I turn off the vibrator and set it to the side. I go back to the head of the bed and take off the rope from your hands. You wrap your arms around me and lay on my chest as you try to catch your breath. "Did you have fun, baby?" I ask you, and you smile up at me as you say, "Yes, that was amazing." I kiss the top of your head, and we both fall asleep. "I love you, Harry," you whisper to me as you fall asleep. I whisper it back to you as I watch you fall asleep on my chest.

(Hello ppl so sorry for disappearing this is written in 10mins sorry for errors will write one full story in some days) (gifs belong to the respective owners and not mine)

[chainmailchalamet]

sugar high 🍒

synopsis: sugar daddy hs, always black n non-binary reader, established dynamic w/ some power play, possessive language, lil degradation, spit kink, mean dom(ish) hs, yktfv

Harry is…complex, by nature. He is a well curated structure of contradictions. He is a rockstar, an animal, a glossy beastly thing on stage. He glows under the spotlight, basking in all that concentrated attention with the air of a man who deserves every last drop. He is a hip roller, a tongue wagger, a dark eyed pretty boy dream. He’s sharp cut hips, tatted all over and wrapped up in glitter.

He is also a cream puff — that’s the version of him you met first, assisting a stylist on a Gucci suiting campaign. You’d steamed his double breasted coat, matched the ties to his green-glass eyes, buttoned him up all snug in his dress-shirt. And he’d blushed and dimpled his way through all of it. Told you that you didn’t have to do all that (“I kind of do, darling, it’s my job”), said please and thank you and stood where he was supposed to stand and made everyone laugh and look at him all fond because he was a professional sweetheart, an actual dream to work with. With the way he acted, you couldn’t tell he found you attractive until after the shoot wrapped and he walked up to you all bashful to ask for your number. It was the way he stated his intentions that got you, the way he said, soft and steady “anything you want, we can do anything you want as long as I can keep you company”.

He took you for squid ink pasta for the first date, because you’d never had it. He showed you how he liked his oysters (“a little lemon, just a squeeze..”) and how to tip them back into your mouth to taste them, and he watched the way your lips wrapped round the shell with a low heat gaze, kept his desire on the simmer like he didn’t want to scare him away. You let your inhibitions sink away into a glass of champagne, flirted with him in the same breath you talked his ear off about your job, about the books you were reading, about your vision for the future. He was so like you — the same raw ambition, the same comfort in the way you wore your skin that you’d both fought tooth and nail for, the same wicked tongue. You liked to make him blush, to tease him until he was giggling in faux offense (“it is not a whore house, it’s a family show, that’s the whole point!” “sir, at last show you sang the words “if you’re getting yourself wet for me”, and then rubbed your fingers together to demonstrate said wetness, those are the actions of a whore!”), until he let some of that babygirl cupcake act drop long enough to thumb some passion fruit sorbet from the corner of your lip and take it into his mouth, closing his eyes and groaning a little under his breath like you just tasted that good.

The second date was a flea market in the south of France. He prepared you with a simple instruction to pack light, and in response to your question about the cost of the train and accommodation and time off work he responded the same — kissed you on the temple and said “I’ll take care of all of it, you don’t have to worry about a thing, you can have anything you want, sweetheart”.

And then he did, took care of every detail — told your boss he was borrowing you for a shoot (“bring them back in one piece, styles, they’re one of our best” “mm, no promises”), got the both of you a private carriage so you could watch the grey London skyline fade away into lush fields of lavender, held your hand all the way, looked at you like you were the best view in sight, whisked you away to a cute little hostel where no one but the owners recognized him (the lady of the house absolutely fawned over him, called him strawberry boy, chided him for being gone for so long).

You used maybe two braincells that weekend — he made sure of that. Every whim, he tended to. If you wanted coffee, he went to the market and fetched you something freshly ground with notes of toffee and dark chocolate. If your stomach rumbled, he sat you down on the kitchen counter and fixed you lemon pasta, fed you dates by hand while the sauce settled, stole kisses in-between bites — cupped your face in his hands and licked into your mouth and said “feel so lucky, can’t believe your here, are you happy, what do you need, whatever you want, wanna give you everything…”.

You let him fuck you during that trip. After a dreamy morning picnicking with a jar of strawberry preserves and fresh bread and heavenly salted butter, and a whole day at the markets where he bought you a whole new wardrobe, gently insisting that he wanted to do this for you. “Harry, this is vintage alaïa, I don’t need that” you’d said. “You’re a stylist, sweetheart, might come in handy — and you’ve been eyeing it up since you saw it, at least try it on, yeah? See how you feel after”.

You’d tried it on, and it fit so perfect your mouth went a little dry — and his eyes on you, the way he smoothed his hands over your hips and told you that “you look so pretty, angel, prettiest fucking thing I ever saw” made you light-headed, running your thighs together in the dressing room. He liked doing that to you, putting you in pretty things, seeing you admire yourself. He bought you the alaïa, the cavalli handbag, a silk Gucci scarf — he was still polite, still your sweet thoughtful boy, but you could see through the cracks to what lay beneath that. The power he held over you, the obvious pleasure he took in being able to take care of you, showering you in nice things, the way he made you feel you didn’t have to think about anything when you were with him because he could do the thinking for you.

That’s the man that took you to bed. The one that told you to put your pretty new things away and wait for him in the bedroom while he tucked the groceries away. The one who met you with hungry eyes when he found you stripped down to your new chocolate brown agent provocateur set and kneeling on the bed and just clicked his tongue and asked you if he told you to do that. Tutted when you looked at him all confused and tried to explain yourself, shushed you and said (with the same quiet intensity as the first day he met you), “not your fault baby, didn’t have to think at all today, you’re just my pretty little doll, huh?”

that’s the Harry that felt every bit of your mouth with his fingers, pressed down on your tongue until you drooled a little and then made fun of you for it. The one that wouldn’t let you touch his dick until he worked you up so good that you thought you would cry, ran his tongue over the lace on your body, teased over every single sensitive inch of you until you were shaking and begging (“please, Harry please, just touch me, anything, anything” “look at you — pretty fucking mess for me, huh? wanna see you cry, baby, can’t give you my dick unless you ask real nice for me”).

He fucked you slow and deep with a hand wrapped around your neck, told you that one day he’d buy you something shiny to lay where his hand had been, but until then you’d just have to wear his fingers around your throat — told you that it was his favorite thing you’d tried on all day, called you his doll, his baby, his perfect little slut. “M’gonna give you everything you fucking want,” he said, licking the salt off your skin as it trailed down your cheek, pulling your head back to spit in your mouth and rub it into your tongue (“filthy thing, you like that? nuh-uh? you got real tight on me, baby, you must really like that”), rolling his hips and driving in hard until your eyes rolled back and you couldn’t even find your voice to beg him for more. “And you’re gonna let me, aren’t you? Not gonna fight me, are you baby? Just gonna let me take care of everything, I know what you need, daddy’s gonna give you fucking everything — that’s it, angel, just shut the fuck up and take it, you’re so good at that”.

He made you come like that, and then flipped you over, lifted your hips up and licked you out from the back, slapped you across the clit if you tried to run away from it, told you to “take it, don’t fucking run, gonna make a big mess aren’t you, show me, fuckin’ show me, that’s so good, you’re so good”, and then fucked you like that — pushed your face into the mattress and laid into you until you did make a mess, till you were drooling with it.

He was back in full sweetheart mode when he was done with you — ran you a bath and toweled you dry and held you in his arms till you fell asleep, kissed your head and said “thank you, baby, did so good for me, gave me everything I’ll ever need”. He was complex like that — a menace, an angel, a demon, a fucking fairytale prince. And you were lucky enough that you got to see every inch of it, bask in the flow of it.

[1800titz]

TDIAG CHAP 12.1 NOW OUT ON PATREON

It’s hard to fathom that he licked into her mouth last night. Pummeled into her until the walls of the restroom only echoed a lewd smack of skin on skin. The coarse squelches of his cock splitting her apart— all still sort of a misty memoir, down to the tips of his fingers on her knee, in the booth, afterwards. Nearly phantasm. The way he cradled her by the nape, close, tequila remnants on his tongue, heady and low when he asked, “How’d you get here? Uber?”

“Miryea.” Light on her feet. Dizzied by the way the tip of his nose brushed along her temple to murmur over the music, the way his irises roved across her face as he retracted. “She, um. Drove.”  

Resolve molded over his features. His thumb under her ear— just. There. Blunt pressure. “I’ll take you home. Yeah?” 

And then—

The inside of his Range Rover, retinas flooded by a fuzzy superfluity of lights along the road; gules and amber. Shimmery, rutilant streaks along the rainwater resting on the swerving road ahead. An ice cream shop in its own plaza— a blinding, chalky blip against the pitch sky when she rested her cheek on her hand and stared out the window. 

His hand on her thigh. Pyrexic. His cum still between her legs.

The obfuscated cloud of a drunken memory, clambering up the stairs, until—

(“Do you want to… come in?”

“…Can’t. Gotta give you something to look forward to, tomorrow.”

“That’s… mean.”

“Mean?”

“Give me something to wake up to,” she slurred, twisting into him, doorknob abandoned, “S’just as good.” 

His palm around her mandible when he kissed her. 

“Want you to take your makeup off. Brush your teeth—“ his thumb along her inebriated pout, “—Change. Drink some water. Get into bed, and go to sleep. Can you do that for me?”

She counted on her fingers pointedly. “Mm. Too many steps.”) 

[whitemancumslut]

can you please write subrry with mean dom y/n? <33 i feel deprived of subrry lately 😭

here’s to fullfill your need of subrry <3 here’s so mean!dom!reader i mightve got too excited ab this

word count 343

content warning mean!y/n, orgasm denial, slapping

A sharp pain comes against his cheek, sending the waiting tears to fall hot on his face. A whimper escapes his lips as his attention is returned to the scrunched up sheets in front of him. Another hard thrust from Y/n sends him pleading aloud.

“You don’t deserve to come, so stop asking! Such a fucking whore. Couldn’t even wait till we get home. And I was going to reward you for being such a good boy when we came back but now you fucking asked for it,” Another hard thrust into his ass. Harry’s puckered hole takes in the dick as much as it can.

Hot tears hit his wrist as he cries out. “Please mommy please I won’t do it again, please. I won’t tease you again. It h-hurts mommy please I—”

Within each thrust his cock is rubbing against the sheets, getting slight relief from the texture.

Shit did it feel good but he needed to come. Harry didn’t mean to misbehave he just grew impatient. Teasing her out in public, acting all bold and tough, it only got him in even more trouble when they arrived back home.

“Fuck,” Harry grunted weakily.

“Mommy’s cock feels good, baby?”

“Your cock feels so so good mommy,” He told her. “F-Feels so good. I feel so full,” He huffed out breathlessly, his head laid down on the mattress.

“Do you think you deserve this? Huh?” She asked. “This hurts me a lot more than it hurts you,” She exhaled sharply as Harry refused to answer, refusing to say the words out loud. Fighting the urge to touch his aching cock, his cum leaking slowly, on the sheets.

Harry soon regrets his silence when his tight curls are gripped roughly by Y/n. “Answer me!” She demands, he inhaled roughly shock going through his body at the sudden change in aggression.

“Y-yes I deserve this mommy! I deserve it! Please please. I won’t misbehave again. I’m sorry please. I’m so so so sorry.”

The cries, the pleads, the sorry’s…

Music to her goddamn ears.

[0oolookitsme]

So Despicable

Type - A One-Shot (yet again!)

Verse - Singer!Harry x Ceo!Y/n

Word Count - 2.1k

Warnings - Uses of degrading slurs such as slut and whore. Do not read if that's not your cup of tea!

A/n - Legit posting this an hour late and I'm sorry! I just finished proofreading and am right away posting this. Not exactly my best, but it's good! Hoping you'll think the same hahah <3

Kinks - Sir Kink, Degradation Kink, Choking and Begging (if you squint)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

Please rb to share!

As she turned the lock of her house, Y/n felt like her knees would simply give out if it took one more second to get the door to open. On the final twist of the key, she pushed the door open and immediately swung her purse on top of the shoe rack.

Bending to undo her heels, she left them thrown there and walked further inside the house. She was confused when she didn't find Harry downstairs but nevertheless poured herself a glass of water.

If he weren't down here, then he must be up in their bedroom or his office. Dreadfully, she climbed up the stairs, her shoulders droopy and her back aching after the long day. "Harry?" She called out, hoping that he would hear her and come out. Alas, he didn't.

She looked around in all the rooms before going inside the bedroom, dropping her body onto the mattress right away. After lying in silence for no more than a few seconds, she got up and fished her phone out of her purse – pressing on Harry's contact before putting the phone on speaker and stripping her clothes.

"'ello?" He answered, his voice serious in a way that made her doubt if he didn't know it was her on the other end of the call.

"Where are you, H?" She questioned him right away, picking the phone back up when the only clothings on her body were her under garments. "Searched the whole house, didn't find you."

It was silent for a moment, and Y/n felt that something was off. "I'm in the gym, didn't hear you come in," he said in that same tone and it was starting to make her skin crawl.

"Oh, I didn't check the gym. When are you going to be done?" She asked, fidgeting with her fingers as her mind raced a million miles per second to come up with all the things that she could've done or said wrong.

Yet, she came up empty. Harry wasn't the one to go to gym after noon, it happened rarely – mostly if he had been out and about during the morning time. So, it was clear that he was avoiding her.

"Dunno, should be done in half an hour," he said and she could tell he was doing push ups or something else by the sound of his strained voice and heavy breathing.

"Okay, I'm going in the shower," Y/n told him before he agreed and cut the call.

Taken aback, she shut out the situation before jumping into the shower and letting the warm water wash away all the stress off her muscles. After rinsing her hair rid of the shampoo, she came out of the shower, water still dripping from the ends of her hair.

When she turned around, her hand immediately went to her chest on a sharp intake of breath. "Fucking hell, Harry," she exhaled deeply, heat creeping up the back of her neck once she realised how ridiculous it was of her to get scared by the sight of him seated on their bed.

She just hadn't expected him to be there, that's all. "I'm sure there's still water left, I didn't shower for too long," she told him while walking towards their closet.

"Drop the towel and come here," Harry said, his voice deep and low. She couldn't help but ask him to repeat himself, caught off guard. "I won't repeat again, Y/n. Drop the towel, and come here," he said again, this time weighing down on each word as he spoke.

His arms were crossed across his chest, the veins more prominent because of his recent workout session. One of his legs dangled off the bed while the other one was folded. Nothing but a white undervest covered his upper half, a short pair of shorts clinging to his thighs.

Hesitant but because of her trust in him, Y/n dropped her towel and walked to him. Uncertainty and anticipation caused her hands to start fidgeting again. Slowly but surely, she reached right where he was sitting on the bed, her hands seemingly frozen on her sides as she stood upright, unable to move any further.

"Lay across my lap," Harry said, unfolding his leg and laying it straight on the bed to make the spot comfortable for her.

Y/n did so, all of the silence and holding-back of Harry was causing her brain to spiral. But one thing she knew was that whatever was coming, it wasn't going to be very holy.

She felt Harry's cold hand grab her ass before he started massaging it. That's when she knew she had surely done something wrong, because he was punishing her.

His palm met her ass cheek with a sharp blow, causing her to jerk forward. "Count for me," he told her, kneading her other cheek before hitting it with the same blow.

"2," Y/n counted, her voice shaking with thrill.

Harry watched her bum jiggle at the impact, the skin already begining to grow red. He stopped kneading the skin by the fifth blow when he couldn't hear pain in her voice. Now, he was just spanking – one side before the other. He was going at a fast pace, his hits unrelentlessly hard as he finally began hearing despair in her voice.

He kept going, not giving the skin much time before slapping it again.

"P-please, Harry–" Y/n stuttered, stopping when he gave a especially hard hit on her ass.

"What do you say? Have you forgotten your manners?" Harry said, his voice sterner than ever and Y/n was beginning to feel like he was being unnecessarily mean to her.

"Sir – It's Sir." She blabbered, answering him as if he would give her a reward. Yet, she was met with another hard spank. "W-what-ever have I done wrong, Sir?" She asked desperately, still lost on the cause for this side of him boiling up to the surface.

"A pathetic mess already? Can see your cunt glistening," he mocked her, swiping one of his fingers through her folds. "What have you not done wrong today? Cut my calls, answered back in short answers as if I were wasting your time, didn't even tell me if you were going to be back for the night or not," he answered her, massaging her bum.

"Didn't even apologize to me," he said, his eyes fallen into angry slits as he slapped her ass harshly.

He pushed her off of his lap and watched her roll over, unable to balance herself and get up. "Can't do anything right, can you?" Harry said as he pulled her up by her shoulders and sat her on her bottom.

She moved around, her bum hurting too much for her to sit on it. "Hurts," she whimpered, the corners of her eyes moist and wet hair sticking to the skin on her back, neck and forehead.

"Of course it does. Wouldn't have done it if it pleased you."

Both of them knew it pleased her. And if they didn't, then her juicy cunt would have surely given her away. She sat on her calves in front of him, her hands in her lap as she looked anywhere but in his eyes.

"Still, you aren't apologizing." Harry pointed out, causing her to flush. But before she could say anything, Harry pushed at her chest so she would fall on her back on the soft mattress.

Her legs immediately fell open in order for her to get comfortable, and just as she took notice, Harry's hand had already met her pussy in a harsh slap.

"Instead, you're pathetically dripping out of your hole," Harry sneered, slapping her puffy pussy again. A wet noise came from the impact and when he brought his hand back up, the string of her arousal connected them.

"So despicable you are."

Y/n jerked each time Harry hit her cunt, her thighs aching to close and protect her core yet she knew better than to do that. She counted each hit and once she counted the tenth slap, Harry dragged a finger across her dripping hole and covered her clit with her own arousal.

"I've been punishing you over here, and you've done nothing but drip out of that needy hole and blabber out the shit I've asked you to." Harry said as if he were disgusted. "Can't think of anything else with that dumb little brain of yours, can you?" He tsk'd at her, shaking his head.

He pinched her clit, laughing hoarsely when she instinctively closed her thighs shut. "Hook your hands under your knees," Harry instructed her and once she had done that, he was glad to have full access to her pussy.

He pinched her clit again, this time not releasing the hissing hold. With his other hand, he filled her hole with two of his fingers right away – sliding them in and out with great ease due to her wetness.

"Such a poor little thing you are, getting off on being a pretty whore – on me being mean to you," Harry crooned.

When she started to moan, he took her panties that she had taken off of herself before going into the shower, and stuffed them into her mouth. Pathetically enough, she hadn't stopped moaning even with the cloth in her mouth. The noise came out muffled, which Harry seemed to enjoy.

He then created an unrelenting pace, his back crouching in order to give all his strength in fucking her. He was still pinching her swollen clit, a grin plastered on his mouth as he heard the wet noises her pussy was making.

Her clit had grown red in colour due to his harsh pinch that didn't seem to know how to release its hold. "Fuck – fuck , sir. Sir I'm coming, I'm coming I'm so close –" Y/n stuttered as her body shook violently, her face scrunched up in pain and pure ecstasy.

Her body burned and her pussy pulsed as Harry continued fucking her with his fingers mercilessly. "What do you say?" Harry cooed at her, impossibly increasing his pace. "What do you say, my darling slut?"

Her eyes glazed over at the slur, tears springing in her eyes as she felt the knot begin to lower in her tummy.

"Can I please– please cum, Sir?" She said with great strain in a voice, like she was holding back.

"Why are you holding back? Not going to comply with your sir, hm?" Harry asked her his voice shaking due to his violent movement. "Guess I'll just deny you the permission, then."

Harry got off on dominating her. After all, she dominated all of the people around her, especially the ones in her office. She always had a hunger to control people, so the fact that he got to control what she would do or not do, dominate and manhandle her, and be mean to her like she was to most of her employees who deserved to be fired, he felt absolutely euphoric.

"Can I please cum," she cried out, her body shaking vigorously. "May I – may I please cum, Sir?" She cried again, repeating her request until it turned into beg for him to let her cum.

"Please, Sir!" She yelled, knowing that she wouldn't be able to hold back. "Please – please, let me come Sir," she kept on begging.

"Ah okay okay, don't need to be so annoying about it," Harry rolled his eyes, watching in amazement as she became a shouting mess.

He felt as her walls clenched around his fingers, and pinched her clit a bit harder. He heard her let out a final cry before she finally gushed all over his hand.

He maintained his pace as her cum spurted around due to his force. She arched off of the bed and pushed into his hand while heaving gibberish. "Fuck – fuck," she stammered, when he stopped and put his mouth on her – lapping at her as if he hadn't quenched his thirst all day.

"P-please, sir – sensitive," she whimpered, now trying to pull away from his mouth but unable to do so because of the position he had put her in. Her legs ached, but his palms laid flat on the back of her thighs as he sucked at her clit.

Harry finally detached his mouth from her and rose up, wiping his mouth with the back of his clean hand. He put the hand that was covered in her juices in front of her mouth, and ordered her to suck.

When she licked his hand clean, he wrapped it around her neck in a choking manner and weighed on it when he leaned down to get closer to her.

"See? You can be good, too." He grinned, pecking her cheek as she turned her face away from him to hide her rosy cheeks.

"God, I love you no matter what you be – my pathetic slut or my pleasing little darling," he chuckled, nipping at her jaw.

[anxieteeeaa]

Mixing Business With Pleasure

“Pleasing is an online platform and app created by Harry Edward Styles. With it, people can pay for content (photos, videos and live streams) via a monthly membership. Content is mainly created by YouTubers, models, content creators and public figures in order to monetise their profession.”

Meet Harry, the founder and CEO of “Pleasing”. His goal is to create a social media platform for sex workers, performers, porn artists and other content creators to expand their platforms. With “Pleasing” you can choose different subscription tiers, each tier provides different things such as free commissions, one on one time with the performer via video-chat and more!

Meet Lauren, the face of “Pleasing”

Lauren is a 24 year old performer at the strip club “Pleasure Point” which is also run by Harry. Lauren has been a performer for 3 years now, being one of the top rated performers in the sex industry. With her streaming platform she has over 7.8 million followers and is known as “A force to be reckoned with”.

Harry’s the one who helped Lauren rise to fame, why has he changed his mind all of a sudden??

moodboard xx

playlist-

i see red - everybody loves an outlaw

i don’t do drugs - doja cat ft. ariana grande

call out my name- the weekend

bad idea- dove cameron

side to side- ariana grande

treat me- chlöe

need to know- doja cat

another man’s jeans- ashe

sucker- jonas brothers

if i had you- adam lambert

she- harry styles

hope you’re not happy- ashe

expectations- lauren jauregui

inferno- sun urban, bella poarch

often- the weeknd

god is a woman- ariana grande

hrs and hrs- muni long

material girl- saucy santana

u are my high- dj snake, future

you right- doja cat, the weeknd

angels like you- miley cyrus

freak- doja cat

megan’s piano- megan thee stallion

smokin’ out the window- silk sonic

HIIII! i got a request and added a bit of a twist to it!! so so excited to get this started!! i hope you like it!! there’s been so much going on in my life (good and bad but mainly bad LOL) so i’m really sorry i haven’t been on here that often! but i’m working on new blurbs!

[enalovesharry]

Always a Fineline

warnings - little angstyyy blurb!

summary - basically just you and harry divorcing. lol.

—————————————————————————

There sat the divorce papers between you and your husband, Harry.

Nothing had worked, you’d both been doing couples counselling and tried to build the love back up with endless dates and nights with just the two of you.

Still nothing.

You two weren’t toxic to each other, no, the spark between you both just wasn’t there anymore. It’s like the love between you and Harry had died down, all that was left was an empty hole in both of your hearts.

You met Harry while he was alone at a bar in 2013, from there you both built a really good relationship that soon turned romantic with Harry finally getting down onto one knee in 2016. Now, 2 years later you were both sat at the table Anne gave you and Harry after you’d both moved into the new house.

Harry stared down at the piece of paper, a sad gloomy dew clouding his eyes, the green appearing almost a dark grey colour.

Signing this paper was the last thing you’d have to do before parting ways for good.

“Who gets the house..?” Harry asks, holding the tip of the pen just above the signature box on the form, a frown prominent on his lips, eyes never leaving the paper.

“H, we already talked about this. I’m okay with staying with my parents till I get my new apartment.” You lean back in your chair slightly, eyes still on the curly headed boy you’d thought you’d always call home.

Harry nods sadly, bringing the pen down onto the paper, signing his name slowly before dropping it onto the page, sliding it across to the middle of the table. Yet, he still doesn’t look at you, his eyes still find his way to either the table, the wall behind you or the piece of paper.

“So.. that’s it?” He almost whispers, shrugging one shoulder, finally his eyes meet yours, both your hearts almost break, seeing the visible pain and tiredness on both of your faces, dark circles under your eyes from the lack of sleep due to the build up of this moment.

“You’ll be okay, Harry. I’m still gonna be here for you.” You smile sadly, trying to lighten the mood, even though there’s nothing light about this.

He shakes his head. “It won’t be the same as it was, Y/N. You know that.” He frowns, his head bowing down once again to avoid eye contact.

You stand up, walking around to his side of the table, hands softly coming in contact with his jaw, picking his face up so he’s looking up at you, like he’d always do when you were sad. “I know it won’t be the same, H. But we have to do this, do it for the sake of our mental health. All we’re doing is going around in circles, It’s an endless cycle of this.. of us.” You choke on a sob at the end, tears finally spilling out of your eyes.

Harry had tried so hard to be strong and not breakdown in front of you, but seeing you cry did it for him. Endless tears are shared between the two of you in what seems to be your last moments close to each other. “I still love you though Y/N.”

“Do you really love me or do you just love the thought of me being around you. Think about it Harry, our love is gone.” You lean down, pressing your forehead against his as you both cry, thumbs caressing the pads of his cheeks.

“I really wanted forever.” He whispers.

“Forever in another lifetime, i promise. We’ll be alright.”

————————————

2021, Las Vegas.

The screams of fans roar through the MGM Grand Garden Arena, it was his first show of Love On Tour where he’d debut his latest Fineline album.

Taking the place onto the centre of the stage, a crew member passes him his guitar as the stage rises up slightly, “This is a special one to me, i know a lot of you have been dying to hear it. I hope you love this song as much as I do.” He smiles, clapping and awes can be heard all around the stage.

The first strum of the guitar to the beat of Fineline is played, Harry takes a deep breath, a sudden emotion coming over him in a flashback of how this song was made. Who inspired this special song to him.

“Put a price on emotion, I’m looking for something to buy.”

“You’ve got my devotion, but man I can hate you sometimes.”

Singing from the crowd can be heard, harmonising Harry in a way no other concert could compare.

“We’ll be a fineline.”

“We’ll be a fineline.”

“We’ll be a fineline.”

Somewhere through the song Harry had closed his eyes, he finally opened them, looking out to the crowd, something in him tells him to take a quick glance up to the VIP box, so he does.

It takes time for him to recognise the person peering over the edge, before it clicks. Y/N.

The person that inspired him to make this album was watching Harry like a hunter show this special album of his to the world.

A small smile cracks at his lips before returning his eyes back to the crowd.

Maybe they will be a fineline.

————————————————————

TBH THIS WAS REALLY BAD AND SHORT CONSIDERING BUT IT IS MY FIRST EVERY WRITING PIECE SO DONT FEEL BAD IF YOU CRINGE BAHAHA!! PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK LOVE YA! I AM ALSO NEW TO WRITING SO THERES PROBS ALOT OF GRAMMAR ISSUES ALSO COS I RUSHED THIS WHILE LISTENING TO MONTELL FISH 😭

i dont exactly like this so feel free to skip like the whole thing!! this is my first time writing a piece like this even though i have many drafts put away, but I wanna say a big thank you to my kind friend @harringtons-honey for quite literally helping me for tips with my writing, i want to truly give you the world for that!!

[daaydreamy]

breathe me in

summary: harry can’t get enough of y/n’s hand around his throat. 

warnings: coarse language, smut, pegging, breathplay (!!!)

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

•••

“Again.” 

“Harry-”

“No, again, please.” Harry whined, blindly searching for Y/N’s hand as an attempt of placing it back against his throat for her to squeeze and grip until he was on the verge of passing out. He wanted his eyes to roll to the back of his head once she takes her hand off, to feel himself trying to bring air back into his lungs desperately while she fucks him so hard he can barely even try. He wants her to be rough, he wants her to be so fucking rough he’s reduced to a mess that can barely even speak he’s so fucked out when they’re done. 

“You’re really just a stupid little whore now, aren’t you?” Her worried tone had dissipated and her hand was pressed against his throat once more, getting tighter and tighter while his wide, wet eyes were looking up at her, still moaning while growing stupider and stupider. He squeezed his eyes shut, the hand he had around her wrist slowly loosening its grip while her harsh thrusts punched even more air out of his lungs. 

After a little bit, Y/N took her hand off of Harry, watching him pant heavily while whining, pushing his head back against the pillow beneath it while having the duvet fisted tightly in his hands. Y/N leaned back against her calves, placing her hand against the back of Harry’s knee, moving it so his leg was propped up against her shoulder, his foot bobbing back and forth beside her head with each thrust she gave him. 

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Y/N leaned over a bit, giving him a few light slaps against his cheek to get him to open his eyes. He blinked his eyes open and looked up at her, mouth slightly open and his lips wet, drool threatening to run down the side of his cheek. She gave him another slap, just a bit harsher this time, toying with him a little bit. She squeezed his cheeks together, stuck two fingers down his throat, grasped his hair and tugged at it. 

“More?” She asked, smiling at him. He nodded, like he always would. 

a/n: umm

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