#dirty harry one shots
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One and Done?
Summary: Anon request - “Hello I have a oneshot request/idea can you do an enemies to lovers where y/n is just as popular as Harry and he can't stand it but he secretly loves her and make it as smutty as you possibly can?”
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, enemies to lovers, angst, asshole!harry, masterbation using vibrator, dirty thoughts, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f rec), spanking, creampie, filth
My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.
DUNKIRK HARRY
"You can't just not show up to the press conference, Harry." I overhear my manager tell Harry. Well, our manager.
"Why not?" Harry argues, "You'll have y/n there. She can cover all the questions."
I roll my eyes and smirk, Harry cannot stand that I'm just as big as he is. It gets under his skin that his fans love me just as much as him, and I live for that.
"You're the other star of the movie, Harry. You can't just bail on the press for it. We need you to talk about it."
I take a deep breathe and walk around the corner, "Hey, mick, I was looking- oh sorry did I interrupt something?" I glance at Harry and poorly hide my smirk on purpose.
"Yeah, kinda." Harry says with an annoyed tone.
"No, y/n. What's up?" Mick says with a sigh.
"I was wondering what the dress code for tomorrow is." I cross my arms and put my weight on my left leg, popping my hip out, "Is it dress up? Casual?"
"Yeah, we have a dress for you. They're bringing it tomorrow morning." Mick's phone rings, "If you'll excuse me.." he picks up the phone and leaves the room.
I look at Harry, "What?"
He shakes his head, "Did I say anything?"
I shrug, "You're staring at me like you want to."
He rolls his eyes and scoffs, "Staring? Never." He walks over and grabs a bottle of water, "You wish I would stare at you."
I pretend to gag, "Barf."
He tilts his head, "No, I was actually thinking about what horrid dress they're going to make you wear tomorrow."
I roll my eyes, "Please. I could wear a stained table cloth and still look better than you." I turn to walk out and Harry says my name.
I turn and look at him, "What."
He walks over to me and looks down. A smirk slowly grows on his lips, "Good luck tomorrow. You're going to need it."
He brushes his chest against mine and walks out.
——
I lay in bed alone. Tossing and turning, kind of anxious for tomorrow's press conference.
I roll onto my back and let out a sigh as I drop my hands beside me onto the bed. I bite my lip and flip the covers off of my body.
I get up and walk over to my suitcase, digging though to pull out my compact vibrator. I smile and prance back to bed. I pull the covers back over and bite my lip as I click the button to turn it on.
I go through the options until I'm on the highest setting. I place the vibrator on my clit and arch my back, letting out a gasp.
I spread my legs wider and try to picture something to help me get to the release I'm so desperately craving.
Harry.
I pull the vibrator away from my body and sit up, "No." I say to myself, "No. No. No."
I toss the vibrator on the bed and lay back down. I chew on the inside of my lip and sigh, he'll never know.
I lean up and snatch the still buzzing object off the bed and place it between my legs again.
Harry circles my brain. In my mind, I make the sex scene we filmed real, and with a few added details.
His cock plunging deep into my pussy. His hands tangled into my hair. His voice, deep and raspy as he tells me how much of a good girl I'm being for him.
I moan Harry's name loudly which catches me off guard and I slam my hand over my mouth.
I arch my back off the bed and squeeze my thighs together as I cum to the image of Harry absolutely railing me into the mattress.
My chest rises and falls quickly as I slowly pull the vibrator away and click it off. I lay it next to me on the bed and slowly take my hand away from my mouth.
Harry's room is right next to mine and I hope to God he didn't hear me.
——
"Good morning." Gwen, who does the makeup, greets as I sit down in her chair, "Oh honey. Did you not sleep last night? You look exhausted."
Harry walks in and sits down next to me, "Yeah, y/n, you look like you were up all hours of the night." He smirks and sips his coffee.
Oh god, he heard me. He fucking heard me.
"Harry. Stop it. You look tired too." Gwen snaps pointing a makeup brush at him.
I smirk slightly, "Yeah, Harry. You look like you were up all hours of the night." I mock him in a fake British accent. He rolls his eyes and starts to get his hair done.
"I'll fix you up nice and pretty, don't you worry." Gwen winks at me in the mirror and I smile, "Thanks."
——
"Okay people. It's almost red carpet time!" Don the direction yells while clapping his hands.
"You two better play nice today or I swear to God.." Mick says through gritted teeth.
"Not me you have to worry about." Harry throws me under the bus.
"Mhm." Mick rolls his eyes, "Just- both of you please .. this is important."
"You got it." I give him a thumbs up and give Harry an eye roll. He chuckles and shakes his head.
"What?" I ask turning towards him, "If you have something to say, say it."
He leans in close to me and whispers, "I heard you."
I freeze and stare at him in shock, unable to process that he fucking heard me touching myself to him.
Him of all people.
"Y/N." I blink and look over at Mick, "Y/N. Go. It's your turn."
I suddenly come back to the embarrassing reality and turn away from Harry. I take a deep breathe and smooth my dress out, walking with shaky legs down the carpet.
I smile, turn, and pose for the photographers, moving down the line. The fans scream for me, just as much as they do for Harry and I glance down at him. He clenches his jaw and forces a smile.
Even though he might know what I did, I still get under his skin and his huge narcissistic ego is bruised.
I walk up to the fans to sign a few things and say hello and they go wild.
"Hello. Hi. Hello. Thank you for coming." I say with a huge smile, "Thank you."
"Y/N. You look beautiful!"
"Thank you!" I smile and pose for a selfie with a few fans, "I gotta go! Thank you! Thank you!" I blow kisses as I walk to the last group of photographers.
"Can we see the dress?"
"Do a little spin for us, yeah?"
I spin around slowly, allowing them to see just how good this dress shows off the curves of my body.
"Can we get the stars of the movie together please?"
My heart sinks to my ass and I swear fell out.
"Of course you can!" Harry says with a chuckle as he walks up to me, "Hello." He says with a smirk, "Nice to finally hear- er, I mean see you again."
I can feel my cheeks getting hot and I swallow, "Fuck off." I mumble through a smile.
"Sounds like you already beat me to it. Last night at least." He pulls me closer to him and looks up at the cameras.
I fight to hold my smile. It feels like forever until they're finally done with us.
"Thank you!" I smile and walk away from Harry. I walk into the hallway to meet the other cast members who are joining us today.
I lean against the wall and take a deep breathe. I look over as Harry walks in and I scoff and turn away. He walks up and leans his shoulder against the wall behind me, "You know.." he pauses.
I shake my head and pull my arm away as he touches the back of my arm, "Y/N." I can sense that he stepped closer, "If you would have asked.." he leans down, his lips are almost touching my ear, "I could have helped you."
I whip around and lay a hand on his chest, "You don't know what you're talking about." I yell in a quiet tone, "So just shut your fucking mouth and let me the hell alone."
He chuckles, "I get it. I'd fantasize about me, too. I promise you're not the only one."
"You're so disgusting." I roll my eyes and turn back around, "Fucking men." I grumble to myself.
"You're not easy to like yourself, sweetheart. So maybe before you judge anyone else, you work on fixing yourself." He huffs.
"I don't need.." I turn around, "I don't need to work on anything other than hating you more."
"Mhm." He rolls his eyes and looks at me, "I'm sure you hate me so much." He fake moans the last two words.
"Hmm. I don't need to hate you more because you've just maxed out the scale of hate." I roll my eyes and walk forward, getting ready to walk in.
"Go, y/n." Mick says motioning for me to walk in.
I put on a smile and walk in, waving to the crowd and blowing kisses as they cheer for me. I walk up on stage and take my seat, smiling and thanking them.
Harry walks in and it's the same level of excitement as it is for me. I purse my lips together and look down, brushing my lashes with my finger to hide my smirk.
"Hello, everyone. Thank you." He takes his seat, of course, right next to me.
——
This is has been a piece of cake. The questions were easy. The answers were easy. We were in the home stretch- until that one interview had to ask that one goddamn question.
"What we're the feelings going on during the big sex scene that you and Harry had to do?"
I stare at her for a few seconds before I speak, "Um, well. I feel like you need to have a certain level of trust when doing something like that, you know?" I start, "I can definitely say that there was a lot of that. We had an amazing coach there with us to help us achieve the level of realness, I guess you could say?"
I glance over at Harry and smile at him, "I couldn't have asked for a better partner to do that scene with."
I look back out to the crowds and Mick gives me two thumbs up.
"And Harry?" The interviewer asks, "How do you feel about it?"
Harry takes a deep breathe and thinks for a moment, "I have to agree with y/n on that actually. You also have to fully be okay with being that.. naked with a couple other people in the room, and y/n was just as nervous as I was at first." He leans forward, "We got comfortable with each other pretty quick."
"And how was that? Did you guys like-"
I cut her off, speaking kinda quickly, "No. No. it was more like we knew we had to do this so we talked each other through our nerves and just focused on making this movie the best it could possibly be."
"Thank you."
I nod and avoid looking over at Harry.
"Let's have a round of applause for our amazing cast of Rose and Levi." The host says clapping with the crowd.
I stand up, smiling and waving, and praying this is over so I can go curl up in my hotel room and die for the rest of the day.
——
"We leave tomorrow morning. The cars will be waiting out front to take us to the airport, seven am. Don't be late." Mick says nodding, "You did good today. See you tomorrow."
I smile and grab my bag, "Thanks." I walk to the elevator and press the button. Someone else walks up and I can immediately tell that it's Harry.
"Not one word the entire way up." I say as the doors open. I get on and turn around. My eyes follow him as he walks on. He presses the three button and steps back.
He has his hair pushed back with glasses and a grey hoodie on with black shorts and I find myself thinking what it would be like to get fucked on an elevator.
I chew on the inside of my lip and beg myself to stop thinking that way.
The doors open and I practically sprint off and down the hall way to my room. I give Harry one last look, debating on acting on my thoughts or not.
I tilt my head and go into my room, shutting the door quickly. I press my back against the door and listen to see if I can hear him go into his room or not.
It stays silent and I let out a sigh, "Fuck." I run my hands over my face and go into the bathroom to run a shower.
I strip down from my morning clothes and put the robe on that's hanging on the door. I pour a glass of wine as I wait for the water to heat up and I drink it all in one gulp.
I pour another and do the same thing before I set the glass down and walk into the bathroom. I shut the door and step in.
I let the water run over my body and Harry's voice runs through my head, I could have helped you.
I bite my lip and shake my head. He wasn't serious. Was he? No, no. I'm not asking. No.
——
I wrap my hair in the towel and put the robe back on, loosely tying the belt around my waist.
I pour another glass of wine, but this time I take my time with it. There's a knock on the door and I look up, "Coming." I look through the peephole and let out a sigh.
"What do you want?" I say as I open the door. Harry pushes past me and walks right in, "Yeah, sure. Just co-"
He turn around and cuts me off, "Just shut the hell up for a minute, okay?"
I stare at him shut the door, "Yes sir."
He runs a hand through his hair, "You." He groans, "Fuck." He walks toward me then turns around, "God dammit, y/n."
"What the hell did I do?" I hold out my arms to the sides and watch was he paces, "If you ca-"
"You made me love you."
I cannot produce words anymore, so I just stand there, completely blindsided by what he said.
"You.." he walks over and stands in front of me, "You have a fire inside of you that just.. pulls me in and it gets worse the harder I try to fight it." His eyes scan over my face, "What you did last night? Moaning my name.. I've done countless of times with yours."
My lips part and I just stare at him.
"You have no fucking idea how much I wish I could have just .. Fucked you for real during our scene. Just ripped those panties off of you and shoved my cock deep into that pussy of yours."
My breathe catches in my throat and I look around, "H-Harry." I whisper trying to comprehend the words he just spoke, "I-I.."
He steps towards me, "Hearing you moan my name is something I've dreamed of hearing, y/n."
I watch as he traces the fabric of my robe.
"And the fact that you're loved by the world, makes it even worse for me because you could have anyone you want an-"
"I want you." I speak quickly. I repeat the words I just spoke in my head and nod, "I want you."
He smirks and is quick to untie my robe, revealing my naked body to him. He seen me naked a couple times but the look on his face is like he's seeing me for the very first time all over again.
His eyes scan over my body and he pulls me in by my robe, "You're so fucking sexy, y/n." His hands slide onto my hips and he pulls me into him.
I finish my wine quickly and set the glass on the table. Harry picks me up and takes me to the bed, laying me down and kissing up my body to my lips.
My hands grab his neck and I pull him close, almost like my body missed him.
It did.
"Tell me what you did last night." He says, "Tell me what you thought about."
"You." I whisper, "I thought about you."
"Doing what, my love?" Harry drags his fingers down my naked body, stopping once he reaches my clit.
My lips part as he presses down, "To-touching myself." I breathe out and moan. He presses circles onto my clit as his lips place little kisses on my skin.
"Did it feel good?" He asks quietly, "Did touching yourself to me feel so good?"
I nod and arch my back, "Y-yes."
"I was awake, doing the same thing." He kisses my jaw line, his fingers move down and slip inside of me, "But with you. Thinking about your beautiful, naked body under mine."
I moan as he pushes his fingers deep into me, curling them.
"You drive me fucking insane, y/n." He mumbles as he nudges his nose against my neck, "I hate it."
I open my eyes and look at him, "You.. hate it?"
"Well.." he tilts his head, "Until now. I hated it until this very moment."
I smile slightly and gasp as he thrusts his fingers in slowly, "Harry." I whimper, "Please."
"Please what? Hmm?" He kisses from my cheek to my lips, "Tell me baby. Tell me what you want."
"I need your cock." I clench around his fingers and he chuckles, "Can you cum for me, y/n?" He works his fingers in and out at a slightly faster pace, working me to the edge.
"Fuck." I gasp loudly as I cum on his hand.
He groans lowly, "Good job, baby."
I catch my breathe and look up at him, "Why didn't you ever tell me?" He slips his hoodie and shirt off and shrugs, "It was easier to hate you at the time."
"What do you mean?" I sit up and watch as he slowly pushes his sweats down.
He shakes his head, "That's not important anymore." He takes his boxers off and crawls up the bed. I lay back as he moves on top of me and I look up at him.
"What's important right now.. is that I find out what you taste like." He smirks slightly and kisses down my body.
I bite my lip and watch as he pushes my legs further apart and licks his lips. I throw my head back and my back rises off the bed as his tongue slides up my pussy.
He moans as his tongue slides in and out and I whine, "Harry." He grips my inner thighs and his fingers dig in.
I let out a loud moan and reach down with one hand to lay it on his head. My fingers gradually gather a fist full of hair and I pull as I push him closer.
I repeatedly moan out his name as he tongue fucks me.
His nose rubs my clit, adding additional pleasure and I cum again. He continues to eat me out for another few minutes and pulls away with a satisfied sigh.
"You taste fucking delicious, y/n." He whispers as he makes his way up to me again, "Hearing you moan out my name is music to my ears. I fucking love it."
I bite my lip and lean up to connect my lips with his. My tongue slides into his mouth and I moan at my taste on his tongue.
"Roll over." He commands.
I roll over onto my stomach and his hands grip my ass cheeks, "Fuck." He groans, "So fucking hot."
He leans down and kisses down my back as he grips my hips to pull them up. I move my legs up so my ass is in the air for him.
"You want my cock?" He asks delivering a slap to my right cheek, "Hmm?"
I nod and moan, "Yes."
"Couldn't quite hear ya, love." He delivered a smack to my left cheek.
"Yes." I practically scream out from the pained pleasure he gave me, "Yes Harry."
"Mm." He spreads my folds apart and pumps his fingers inside of me a few times before he pulls them out and replaces it with his cock.
I push my face into the mattress and leg out a loud moan as I grip the sheets.
"I want to hear you, baby." Harry says grabbing my hair and pulling my head up, "I want to hear you scream while I fuck the shit out of you."
I nod once and moan as he pushes his cock all the way inside of me, "Fuck, Harry!"
He groans and pulls out, roughly thrusting back in.
I let out a loud moan and push my hips back to meet his. His hand on my hip tightens as he starts to thrust, hard and slow.
"Your pussy is hugging my cock in all the right ways. Fuck." He moans, "I knew I needed you."
I moan louder with each hard thrust. Screaming out his name with the most utter pleasure, "Fuck. Fuck."
I clench around him and claw at the bed, "H-ha-" I can't even speak. My eyes roll shut and my body goes numb.
Harry groans and let's go of my hair. My head falls onto the bed and he grips my hips, pulling my hips back to meet his thrusts.
"Fuck, y/n." He moans, "You're going to make me cum sooner than I want, fuck."
I grip the sheets and pull, letting the whole hotel know, if they don't already know by now, that's I'm being given a proper fuck.
Harry's thrusts slow down and I can feel his cock twitch inside of me.
I let out a sigh and lay my body down as soon as he pulls out.
Harry falls down next to me and we lay there for a few minutes until he finally gets up. He puts on his sweats and lays his hoodie on the bed.
"So what was that? Just a one and done fuck?" I ask grabbing my robe and putting it on, "Or.." I tie my robe shut again and sit on the edge of the bed.
He looks at me and stares at me for a few seconds before he walks over to me.
He stands between my legs and lifts my chin up with his fingers, "If anyone else touches you, I'll break every single one of their goddamn fingers. You're mine now, baby."
——
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“Reconciliation”
ex-dom!Harry x you
Word count: 8.5k
Warnings: dom/sub relationship, spanking, daddy kink, slight praise kink, size kink, quick breeding kink and unprotected sex
Plot: You and Harry used to be in a dom/sub relationship and you’re seeing him for the first time in six weeks since you ran out on him after something startled you.
⌑⌑⌑⌑
You felt his stare on you from across the room as you indulged in a conversation with your friend, Cassidy. You had tried your best to avoid him and his piercing eyes all evening, but now you knew he was trying his hardest to get you to look over at him - to acknowledge him. You didn’t want to speak to him, or even look at him for that matter.
It got weird, and that caused the need for things to end.
It had been six weeks since you last saw him, and the image of him standing in your doorway, begging to speak to you was etched permanently in your mind. You didn’t let him in, and you told him to go home. It was the right thing to do. It was what you both needed - whether or not he’s come to realize it.
If it wasn’t for the fact that it was your friend Joseph's birthday tonight, you’d be at home on your couch. However, Joseph had been your friend since you moved into the city, and there was no way you’d miss it.
“You look so good,” Cassidy spoke as she took your hand, making you twirl in front of her. It caused you to smile sheepishly as you didn’t like attention to be on you too much these days.
“Thanks, Cas,” you bit down on your bottom lip as you looked down and saw that your glass of red wine was nearly empty. “I’m just going to grab a refill.”
You moved away from Cassidy, and you felt your shoulders slouch as you did so. It had been exhausting keeping your image up all night. The image that you were happy, and that everything was just peachy. It was far from it, but you didn’t want him to know just how much things were impacting you.
Making your way into the large kitchen of your friend's house, the music from the living room drowned out a bit as you eyed the bottles of red wine on the counter. Cassidy had grabbed the first glass of wine for you, so you weren’t sure exactly which one you had been drinking.
“Y/N.”
You heard the raspy accent behind you - causing you to suck in a deep breath. There was no way you could handle an encounter with him tonight. This wasn’t the time, or place.
“We’re not doing this,” you told him softly as you walked towards the sink.
You washed your glass out lazily, just enough to get the remnants of the first wine out in case you don’t end up picking the same one again.
“Doing what?” He was behind you now, and you looked up to the window in front of the sink that had a view of the backyard - seeing the reflection of the both of you in it. “You’ve been avoiding me all night. I was just coming to greet you.”
“Harry, you and I both know you’re not over here just to greet me,” you sighed, and you turned around to place your hand on his chest to move him out of your way. You kept your eyes on the ground as you did so, moving around him so that you could dry your glass.
You still felt him behind you as you made your way over to the wine on the counter, and you were doing your best to ignore him, but it was hard when he made it to where was so close now.
“So that’s it? You won’t even look at me now?”
Sucking in a deep breath, you turned back around. You slowly trailed your eyes up his body, seeing that he was dressed in a pair of black dress pants with a sheer black short sleeved button up on top - his tattoos just barely shining through. Once you reached his face, you could see the sadness behind his emerald eyes, and that had you wanting to divert your gaze immediately.
“There - I looked at you. Are you happy?”
The corner of Harry’s lips curled down into a frown at your words, and you watched as he anxiously tucked his hands into his pockets. “No, I’m not. I haven’t been happy since you walked out on me.”
“Harry,” you shook your head. “I didn’t walk out on you. Our relationship wasn’t like that, and you know that.”
“And you know that from what I confessed to you that it was like that for me. You know it was like that for you too. You just won’t admit,” he scoffed, his eyes now trailing over you. “Seeing you tonight, looking so beautiful and talking to our friends like nothing has changed, it’s been killing me. Because it has changed, Y/N. Everything has changed.”
You felt a clenching in your chest at his words. You knew they were the truth. You had felt something more than what you had agreed upon, just like he did for you, but it scared you. Your relationship was based purely off of pleasure and dynamic. It was never meant to lead to anything further. It was only supposed to last until the two of you felt that it was time to move on. You had convinced yourself that’s what happened for you after that night, but you knew that was a lie.
“That’s it, darling,” Harry hovered over you, looking down at your tear-filled eyes as he circled your sensitive clit with the pads of his index and middle fingers. “You’re ‘s pretty for me. You know that?”
You whimpered as you nodded, feeling him plunging in and out of your drenched cunt. “Always wanna be pretty for you, daddy.”
“Oh, honey,” he clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “You don’t even have to try. You’re always pretty. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
You loved when he showered you with compliments. It was one of your favorite things, and you knew he loved complimenting you too.
“Gonna come again,” you whined, snaking your hips underneath him. “Can I, please?”
“You can come. Let it go,” he coaxed you through it, applying a bit more pressure to your clit as he felt you clenching down around him - gushing past his cock as your third orgasm of the night plowed through you.
You gripped to him once the height of it hit you, and you let out a small sob of pleasure as the feeling encompassed you from head to toe. You were brought back down as you heard Harry’s grunts of ecstasy as he continued to thrust - hips clashing against yours.
“Daddy,” his eyes snapped up at the sound of your voice - looking up from where you both connected so that he was now looking into your eyes. “Want to feel it inside, please.”
You both had established always talking about where he was going to come. Initially at the beginning of this session, you had agreed upon him finishing on your stomach, but now that you had already come three times, you were desperate to feel his come inside of you.
“Yeah?” Harry picked up the pace of his movements, and you knew it was because he was close. “Want me to come inside your tight, and perfect cunt?”
“Please, I want it so bad.”
Harry’s jaw went slack as you felt the warmth of his orgasm filling you - his chest collapsing against yours as he fucked it into your swollen pussy. You hummed at the sensation, and you soon felt his lips against the side of your neck as he began to still.
“I love you.”
Your eyes shot open when the three words left his mouth, and you swallowed harshly as you registered that he had actually said them. You pushed it away though as you lifted a hand to run your fingers through the back of his curls as he panted against your skin.
You knew this could happen to people sometimes in the height of the moment, and you knew that it probably just slipped out without him even realizing. You knew he didn’t mean it.
After cleaning you up, he proceeded to clean himself up as well before he tucked the two of you into his bed. You were giggling and cuddling as his fingertips trailed over your back, both of you returning to the bed completely naked - something you did quite often.
His eyes wandered over your face as he lifted his other hand to push your hair behind your ear, and then he dragged his hand down to cup your cheek. The pad of his thumb brushed along your lower lip as he now stared into your eyes.
“I meant what I said earlier, Y/N. I love you.”
You thought that maybe he had slipped into a subspace without you realizing, even though he was the dominant, and that he still hadn’t pulled himself out of it.
Your eyebrows narrowed as you held his face into both of your hands. “Harry,” you said his name instead of his title, hoping that would cause a crack in his wall - that it would get him to come back to you properly.
He lifted his hands to wrap around your wrists, and he gave them each a squeeze. “I know that’s not what this was when we started it, and that you might not feel the same way, but I couldn’t resist not saying it anymore. These past six months with you have been so wonderful, and I want to still continue on with what we’ve been doing, but maybe we could change the dynamic a little bit. Maybe keep this reserved for only sometimes, and then we can try out-”
“Wait, wait, wait,” you dropped your hands from him as you sat up in the bed, pulling the sheet against your chest to cover yourself. “Hold on, please.”
You closed your eyes tight as you tried to control your breathing. This felt so overwhelming.
He was right, the past six months had been amazing, but it was amazing because it was the dynamic you had agreed upon when this all began. Not because of what he was trying to turn it into.
It was silent between the two of you for what felt like hours, but you knew it had only been a couple of minutes. You looked over your shoulder at Harry as he stayed in his position laying down on the bed, now on his back so he could look at your properly.
“You can’t mean any of that,” you whispered, and you watched as sadness filled his eyes. “That’s not what this is.”
“I know, I know,” he said, shaking his head. “But I do mean it. I’ve fallen in love with you.”
“Harry, you can’t,” you told him, and as he sat up, you moved away from him. “Please - don’t.”
You quickly got out of bed, and you walked over to the bag you had packed for the weekend that was in the chair in the corner of his room. You pulled on a pair of sweats and a jumper, tugging on some socks as well before zipping it up - pulling the strap over your shoulder.
“Y/N, please don’t leave,” Harry hopped out of the bed as you left his room - holding the bedsheet around his waist. “Can we talk about this before you just up and go? It’s almost three in the morning. Please just stay.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you slipped your feet into your shoes that were by the door, and you grabbed your purse from the hook on the wall. “We both made an agreement when we started this, that if we ended up wanting different things, then we would end it. It’s clear now that we want that - we want different things. So, I’m ending it.”
“You can’t be serious,” you heard the tears filling his voice, but you couldn’t look at him again.
“I have to go.”
You walked out as you heard him calling your name again.
He showed up the next morning at your door, clutching to the doorway once you opened it to reveal him. His eyes were swollen, and his cheeks tearstained as he begged for you to please listen to him. You denied him. You shut the door in his face after telling him that it had to be over.
“I wish you would stop acting like you know the way I feel - the way I felt,” you corrected yourself, and you heard Harry let out a small laugh.
“I don’t know why you’re running from this.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but you were interrupted by Joseph coming into the kitchen. He stopped as he laid eyes on you and Harry, looking between the two of you.
“Everything okay?” Joseph asked, and you sent him a tight smile.
“Everything’s fine! Just catching up with Harry while grabbing a refill,” you told him before turning around to grab a bottle of wine.
You and Harry agreed at the beginning of everything that you wouldn’t tell your friends about your relationship. None of them knew that either of you participated in that type of lifestyle, and you both wanted to avoid having to explain it.
After pouring yourself a glass, you turned around to see Harry still standing there as Joseph fixed himself another cocktail.
“It was nice talking to you again, Harry,” you slipped past him, and you felt him brush the tips of his fingers along the inside of your wrist as you did so.
It angered you how the smallest touch from him still had goosebumps coating your skin.
⌑⌑⌑⌑
It had been a week since Joseph’s party, and like always, you hadn’t left Harry’s mind. It wasn’t that he had stopped thinking about you since everything happened, but seeing you again made his mind wander to you more than usual. It was back to how often he thought of you when things first ended.
He had to stop himself from showing up at your apartment again - begging for you to please sit down and talk to him. He just wanted you to let him explain completely, so that you could see he really meant that he loved you.
But it was obvious that’s not what you wanted.
He just didn’t know how he had read the signs so wrong. There were instances throughout your time together where he thought he could see a gleam in your eyes that was showing him that you were feeling the same.
Harry didn’t mean to fall in love with you, but it was about four months in when he found it inevitable. He became completely captivated by you.
This was only supposed to be him showing you how a proper relationship between a dominant and a submissive was supposed to be. The both of you obviously let it go on for longer than just that because you worked well together.
You were the most perfect submissive for him.
He remembered the night when he found out you were open to that kind of relationship. The circumstances surrounding it were rather unfortunate. You didn’t want anyone in your friend group knowing what you did on your personal time, but Harry ultimately found out, and the way he did was beyond your control.
You both were out with your friends for the night. Harry hadn’t seen you out in a while, and you weren’t close enough at the time for him to really ask why. Tonight however, you were letting loose, and he was enjoying watching you.
The two of you had held a few conversations here and there since being introduced to each other, but you were never really ones to go out of your way to do so. They just happened on their own. You were quiet most of the time, and Harry was too.
Him keeping his eyes on you all night worked out in your favor, however. He noticed that you were no longer on the dance floor with Cassidy, and his eyes began to look among the crowd of the club you were in - to see if he could spot you.
Eventually he located you by the back hallway, and he saw you speaking with a gentleman. He looked like he was in his late thirties, and Harry was sure he had never seen him before.
With the way the gentleman was talking with his hands, Harry could tell that he was clearly angry about something, and you looked equally upset. It wasn’t until Harry saw him grab your elbow, leading you out the back exit, that he went into action.
He followed you both, but you had been pulled around the corner of the building.
“Do you think this is cute behavior, Y/N?” The man was berating you, and it made his blood boil. “What did you think? That this was going to earn you some fun punishment? I don’t even want to punish you. I can’t stand the fucking sight of you.”
Harry’s mouth gaped at the words being thrown your way, but still, he didn’t wish to intervene. He wouldn’t until he knew the situation he was dealing with.
“I-I’m sorry, sir,” he heard you sniff. “I hadn’t been out with my friends in so long, and I didn’t think you would care. I haven’t heard from you all week.”
“I told you I needed space until the weekend, and this is what you up and do when you knew that I could call you up and ask you to come over. And let me guess, you’re using my card for your tab?”
“No, no, I’m not!” The pleading in your voice crushed Harry’s heart, and he knew he couldn’t listen to this much longer. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave with you right now. I’ll go in, and I’ll pay, and then we can-”
“You’re not leaving here with me, Y/N. This is over. Give me my card.”
Harry came around the corner as he heard you sob, and he watched as you handed the man a credit card.
The moment the man spit at your feet, Harry sprung into action.
“Hey, who the fuck do you think you are?” He yelled, pushing the man’s shoulders to get him to step away from you. “Spitting at a woman? Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
“She’s not a woman, she’s a fucking child,” the man bit. “She’s made that clear these last couple of weeks with her choices, and now the consequences are staring her right in the face.”
“Sir, please,” you went to reach forward for the man, but Harry was the one to stop you. He took your small hands and stood in front of you - blocking the other man from your view as he placed your hands against his chest.
“Y/N, darling, look at me,” Harry said softly, and you let your eyes flicker to meet his. “You’re going to let him leave, you understand? He’s a piece of shit, and he’s not treating you well. You’re going to let him leave.”
“She’s the piece of shit,” Harry quickly snapped his head to look over his shoulder at the man again out of the corner of his eye.
“I suggest you leave right now if you like your teeth remaining in your skull. I’m about two seconds from knocking over half of them out onto this sidewalk.”
You had never heard Harry’s voice have such anger, but you were grateful for it when you heard retreating footsteps - leaving just the two of you outside now.
Harry had been looking at you again this whole time, and you felt him lift a hand to caress your cheek with the back of his fingers. “You’re alright now. He’s gone.”
Without even thinking, you nuzzled your face against his fingers as your eyes slipped shut for a moment. You felt so calm around him already even though you had just been so worked up.
“I’m going to ask you a question, and if I’m overstepping, please let me know, but was that man your dominant, Y/N?”
Blinking your eyes open, you struggled with how to respond. Was he asking because he knew of that lifestyle himself, or was he asking to judge you?
“Yes,” you whispered, giving him a small nod. “For the past few months.”
“How many have you had, darling?”
“He was my third,” you were being honest. You hadn’t engaged in this lifestyle for too long.
“And did they all speak to you like that? In that manner?”
Looking down to your feet, you nodded again - suddenly feeling so small, and almost embarrassed that you were revealing this part of yourself to Harry when the two of you really didn’t know each other all that well.
“Y/N, look at me, please.”
You shook your head, your bottom lip wobbling.
“Y/N,” he repeated himself, and he hooked his finger underneath your chin - forcing you to look up at him. Once you held his eyes again, he continued to speak. “That is not the way they should be speaking to you, ever. There’s a difference between punishment, and someone just being inappropriate and nasty when speaking to you. Do you understand?”
With your big doe eyes and your plump lips, Harry felt something new wash over him when it came to you. He had always seen you, sure, but tonight he was seeing you. This pretty, precious woman in front of him. You were being vulnerable, and he just wanted to hide you away from the evil that had presented itself to you already.
You shook your head as you took in his words. “I…I don’t know any different.”
Harry was doing his best to stay calm in front of you, but inside, he was actually fuming. These men had taken advantage of you, and disrespected you by disguising it as a normal part of that kind of relationship.
“How far do you live from here, love? How about I go inside and settle our tabs, and then I’ll take you home. We can talk more there.”
You agreed without hesitation, and the next thing you knew you were climbing out of a taxi with Harry - leading him into your apartment.
“Sit,” he instructed, and you obeyed him by taking a seat on your couch.
You could hear him moving around your kitchen, and he eventually returned with a glass of water - extending it to you.
“Drink this.”
You took the glass of water from him, drinking half of it before lowering it down into your lap - holding it with both of your hands. Harry reached out to glide his thumb under your bottom lip to collect the excess water that had started to drip.
“Good girl,” he praised you, and it caused a fluttering in your lower stomach. “Now, I have a proposition for you, Y/N.”
“I’m listening,” you responded, lifting the glass to your lips again to have a couple more sips.
“How would you feel about me showing you what a proper dominant is supposed to look like?”
Your eyes widened, and you gave yourself time to properly swallow your water before responding. “You…you would do that with me?”
“Why are you saying it like that, darling?” Harry chuckled, tilting his head to the side.
“I guess I’m just a little shocked that you’d want something like that with someone like me, that’s all,” you shrugged, beginning to nibble on your bottom lip.
“Someone like you? You mean polite, sweet, well-spoken and beautiful? Why wouldn’t I want to do something like that with someone like you?”
You were blown away by his compliments. You didn’t think Harry had seen you in that way at all. His offer intrigued you, but you couldn’t help but be a little hesitant.
“I don’t know, Harry,” you sighed, tapping the tips of your fingers against your glass. “You don’t think that could end up being weird?”
“What do you mean? I don’t tell my friends about partaking in this lifestyle, if that’s what you mean. They wouldn’t have to know we’re involved in anything further than what they see when we’re all together.”
When he explained it in that way, it did feel like some of the pressure had been taken off.
“Okay, then yes.”
Harry smiled as he reached out, taking the glass of water from you to set it on your coffee table. “Perfect,” he whispered as he now cupped your face in his palm. “Can I kiss you, love?”
You nodded, and his lips were on yours quicker than you thought they would be. After a few seconds of processing that this was actually happening, you hummed at the way his lips molded against yours - reaching out to grasp onto the sides of his jacket.
His tongue snuck out to glide along your lower lip, and you parted your mouth to allow it to roll inside. Your tongues tangled together, and you heard a groan rattle in his throat just before he pulled away.
“You have such a sweet mouth, Y/N,” he placed another quick peck to your lips before pulling away further. “I’m interested to see what other talents it may possess.”
You giggled, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip - having it be just slightly swollen from kissing. “I can’t wait to show you. I hope they meet your expectations.”
“Oh, I’m sure they will,” Harry winked as he stood from your couch. “I have your number from when we planned Katherine’s surprise party over the summer. I’ll text you, and we’ll plan a day for me to come over. We’ll finalize all the details, and then we’ll get started. How does that sound?”
You pressed your thighs together when you realized the next time you saw him, that more than likely meant that you’d be sleeping together, and you honestly couldn’t wait.
You had always found Harry to be attractive, who wouldn’t, but you hadn’t thought of him in that way until tonight.
And now you couldn’t stop.
Harry was currently sitting at the desk in his office at his house, staring at his computer screen as he opened the locked folder he had of your videos together, as well as pictures you had sent him throughout the last few months during your time as his submissive.
He double clicked on the video that was the longest, knowing this was the one he couldn’t get off his mind.
Taking in a deep breath, he pressed play, but he skipped until there was only about fifteen minutes left of the video - willing away the blood that wanted to rush to his cock at some of the images that flashed across the screen as he went. It didn’t feel right viewing that when you were no longer together, but the part of the video he wished to see was something he needed.
You both had forgotten about the camera being set up as you laid back down in your bed after cleaning up. This was only a couple months into your relationship, and you hadn’t started to sleep naked with each other yet. He knew the sleep set you had on in this video was one of your favorites, and it was one you had told him that you bought specifically for him.
A little pink camisole and shorts set - silky and frilled at the hems.
On the screen, you were smiling up at Harry as he crawled into bed beside you, and you were instantly curling into his side. He cuddled you, and praised you - telling you how good you had just been during your time in bed together only minutes before. His large hands massaged and caressed your body while he pressed his kisses to your forehead.
That was all it usually took for you to fall asleep, your giggles dying off as he continued to watch, and he eventually saw your body slouch against his. It was then that his eyes connected with the camera, and he realized he had left it on this entire time.
The video ended with Harry carefully getting out of bed, making sure not to disturb you, before he approached the camera - stopping the recording.
Tears burned in his eyes as he rewound the video to show you looking up at him and smiling again. He paused it to hold that particular frame, and he blinked - the tears streaming down his cheeks now.
He grabbed his phone, not being able to stop himself, and scrolled through until he got to your contact. He pressed the call button before holding the device up to his ear.
“Hello?”
He was honestly shocked that you answered, but he was grateful nonetheless.
“Y/N,” he choked out, trying to keep it together, but just saying your name made him even more emotional. “Please let me see you. Can we please talk this out? I can’t…I can’t keep doing this.”
It was silent for a few moments, and he waited - pulling the phone away from his ear to check the screen as he was sure you had hung up. When he saw the time on the call still going, he let out a shaky breath before putting the phone back to its previous position.
“Okay,” you whispered, and Harry felt his heart palpitate.
“Okay?”
“Yes, okay.”
⌑⌑⌑⌑
As you sat and waited for Harry on your couch, a cup of hot tea in your hands, you stared at the wall. You too had been reminiscing on your relationship almost all night, and you couldn’t get him out of your head no matter how hard you tried.
You were stuck on the beginnings of your relationship as well. Your mind dwelling on the first night you slept together.
You had never been taken care of in the way he took care of that night. No one has ever taken the time to give you proper aftercare, and it was shocking for you to see that he enjoyed doing it for you.
He had run you a hot bath, and he coaxed you into it - making sure you were situated before going back into your bedroom to change your sheets, and grab you a pair of pajamas. When he returned, he slipped into the bath behind you, and you were able to relax as he did all the work when it came to getting you clean.
Throughout the course of your relationship, you couldn’t help but wonder when his facade was going to diminish. Eventually he would speak to you the way your previous dominants had, you were sure of it.
But it never happened.
Harry was the perfect dominant. He punished you appropriately when you had a certain tone when speaking with him, or when you did something he asked you not to do. He knew most of the time you acted out because you wanted him to punish you, and he enjoyed doing it.
He enjoyed it because you enjoyed it, and you knew that.
In your past relationships, you dominants always went by ‘sir’, and you had tried that a few times with Harry, but it didn’t feel right. He told you that you both would figure it out in time, and you remember the first time you called him ‘daddy’ vividly.
Your hips were pinned down to the bed in one of Harry’s large hands while the other pressed a bullet vibrator to your clit. He was overstimulating you, putting you on the verge of your fifth orgasm, and you felt yourself slipping. When your fifth, and final orgasm hit you, the title, 'daddy', left you without even thinking about it.
Harry had every intention of still fucking you that night, but when he heard what you said with such a whiny tone, he ended up coming all over your stomach - unable to stop himself. From that night forward, the title of ‘daddy’ just stuck.
There were times when you felt yourself falling for him, but you pushed it away. It was too scary to think of your relationship turning into that because it wasn’t what you agreed upon.
So you had swallowed your feelings down, forgetting about your want for more until Harry spoke those three words almost two months ago now.
Now - you were angry at yourself for fleeing the way that you did, but you couldn’t help it. Hearing him say what you had felt in your heart for a while was too much.
The list of possibilities you had on how your relationship could change were endless. And the worst outcome of them all was Harry realizing he made a mistake by changing your dynamic, that he didn’t actually love you, and then the whole thing would end in a mess.
You felt it was easier just for you to end it when the dynamic was still the same to make it less to clean up.
A knock on the door drew you out of your thoughts, and you took another quick sip of your tea before setting it down. Licking over your bottom lip, you tugged your sleep shorts down as you walked over to the door - undoing the locks before opening it.
Your breath was stolen from you as you saw Harry standing there with a bouquet of pink tulips in his hand, and you could see the nervousness practically radiating off of him.
“I got these for you. I know you said tulips were your favorite,” he stated, extending them out to you.
You took them from him with a small ‘thank you’ before expecting them closer. “I mentioned liking tulips like…once,” you laughed softly as you met his eyes again.
“I know,” he nodded, and you swallowed harshly when you realized he probably remembered a lot of things about you that you wouldn’t expect him to.
You both stood there for a few more seconds before it registered that you were just letting him stand out in the hallway. “Oh my god, I’m sorry,” you shook your head as you moved out of the doorway. “Please come in.”
Harry stepped inside as you made your way into the kitchen to find a vase, and you peeked at him over your shoulder. “I had just made myself a cup of hot tea before you came. Did you want me to put the kettle back on and make you one as well?”
“No, I’m okay, Y/N, thank you though,” Harry said as he shrugged off his jacket, draping it over your armchair before plopping down in it.
You located a vase and filled it with water before placing the tulips in it. Once you had them situated the way you liked, you walked the vase over to your shorter bookshelf in the living room - placing them on top.
Making your way back over towards Harry, you sat down on the couch again, and pulled a blanket over your lap as you reached back out to grab your cup of tea.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” Harry spoke after a moment, and you watched his chest swell as he took in a deep breath. “Tonight, I watched a video of us and-”
“Harry,” you grimaced slightly, thinking that he meant he watched the sexual acts that those videos consisted of.
“No, no, no,” he rushed out, shaking his head frantically. “I skipped through it. This one particular video…we had forgotten to turn the camera off. And it showed us settling into bed, and you falling asleep against me.
“I know that I’ve been missing you terribly, and I’m sure that was obvious at the party the other night, but watching that video again stirred something up in me. I’m devastated without you, darling. I don’t want to have to handle you not being by my side anymore.”
You contemplated your next words carefully. You knew he was upset, and you didn’t want to cause that to grow.
“I haven’t been handling things well either - even though I’ve tried to make you think differently,” you confessed, your cup beginning to shake due to your trembling hands. “I’ve missed you as well. I tried to forget about it. I tried to forget about you, and about everything, but of course, that’s impossible.”
Taking a minute, you attempted to lift your cup to your mouth to take a sip, and Harry quickly caught on to just how bad you were shaking. He was up before you could fully comprehend his movements, and you felt him take the cup from you as he sat down.
“Open.”
You parted your lips as he brought the tea up to your mouth, and he tilted the cup just enough to give you a proper sip before he was setting it back down onto the coffee table.
“Thank you,” you spoke softly after you swallowed the warm liquid.
Harry’s hand came up, and you could tell he was reluctant at first, but eventually he cupped the side of your neck - running his thumb up and down the column of your throat. “I’ve missed touching you.”
You slowly moved the blanket off your body, and you shuffled yourself closer to him. You delicately placed your hands on his chest - instantly feeling the hammering of his heart.
“I missed touching you too,” you whispered as you ran the tip of your nose along his jawline. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I was just scared.”
“I know, honey. I know,” he reassured you as he wrapped his other arm around your waist to pull you even further into him. “Please just tell me that you invited me here so we could work this out. That we don’t have to fight this any longer.”
“I asked you over here so I could tell you,” you started before resting your cheek against his so that your lips met his ear. “That I love you too.”
Harry pulled his face away from yours, looking down into your eyes. You could see the emotion swirling behind them as his fingers tightened into the back of the shirt you had on. “Don’t play with me, Y/N.”
“I’m not playing, Harry,” you shuffled around again to sit up on your knees, taking his face in both of your hands - tilting his head back to look up at you since you were towering over him slightly now. “I love you.”
Leaning down, you pressed your lips against Harry’s molding them together slowly, and you heard him inhale sharply through his nose. You had only initiated kisses a few times within your time together, and most of the time it was when you were both teetering on the line of your dynamic.
Harry’s hand was still loosely against your back from before, but now he moved his hand down and underneath your shirt so that his palm was flush with your skin. His other hand slipped into your shorts, and he pulled away quickly when he was met with your bare ass cheek against his hand - not the cloth of your underwear.
“Are you not wearing underwear?” Harry questioned, staring at you with furrowed brows.
Your cheeks flushed pink as you shook your head, biting down on your bottom lip. “I took them off before you came over.”
You watched as Harry’s pupils dilated, and soon both hands were grasping to your thighs as he maneuvered the two of you around the couch. You straddled his waist only for a moment before he was standing off the couch, cradling the globes of your ass in his hands as he started towards your bedroom.
“What did I tell you about not wearing underwear when I’m not around?” He breathed into your ear - teeth tugging at the lobe.
You yelped as Harry sat down at the end of your bed, and you were soon thrown over the tops of his thighs, your cheek resting against your comforter as you stared at the wall. You knew that he was looking for an answer from you, that the question wasn’t rhetorical, but you were feeling a bit disobedient.
“Y/N,” Harry’s tone caused a clenching in your abdomen, and squirmed in his lap as you rubbed your thighs together. He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth as you felt his hand push between your thighs - separating them. “You’re being extremely naughty this evening. Don’t worry, honey. I’ll spank it out of you.”
Gasping, your body jolted as Harry tugged your shorts down and off of your body. You hummed, slipping your eyes shut when you felt his large hand caressing over one of your ass cheeks.
“But I know that won’t be enough, hm?” Harry nipped at your jawline. “I’ll make sure I fuck it out of you too.”
The sound of Harry’s hand coming down against one of the rounds of your ass echoed off the walls, and you moaned - nuzzling your face into the mattress.
“Count, Y/N.”
“One,” you whimpered as you lifted your head enough to speak.
“Good girl,” Harry smoothed his hand over the area he had just spanked before alternating to your other cheek. “You’re getting ten.”
Harry’s hand came down again, and you swallowed down the lewd moan that wanted to escape you. “Two.”
He continued, and by the last one, you were dripping.
“Ten,” you gasped, and you then felt both of Harry’s hands on your cheeks - massaging them gently. You bit down on your lip in sensitivity, whining softly.
“Color?” Harry whispered in your ear as he pressed a kiss right underneath it.
“Green,” you breathed, closing your eyes for a moment to gather yourself.
It had been so long since the two of you had been like this, and your body wasn’t quite used to it again yet, but it still felt good - that part you couldn’t deny.
Harry quickly flipped you over, and soon your shirt was removed from your body as well. Your back was slightly arched due to the angle, and the fact that you were still over thighs. Biting down on his bottom lip, he ghosted his fingertips over your pert nipples. You couldn’t help but wiggle in his lap again - craving his touch deeply.
“Daddy,” you looked up at him with slightly wide eyes. “Please.”
He shushed you gently as he kept a hand cupping one of your breasts while the other dipped between your legs. You squirmed as he smeared your arousal over your needy clit, and he began to rub tantalizing circles against it.
“Don’t you want daddy to take his time with you? It’s been so long, darling.”
“Maybe later,” you tangled your fingers into the sides of your hair, lifting your hips to meet Harry’s fingers more. “I need you now, please.”
Harry hummed softly, and you were flipped onto all fours before you knew it. “You know what to do,” he told you as you heard the buckle of his belt being undone.
Much like earlier when you were over his lap, you lowered your torso so your cheek was to the mattress, and you wrapped your hands around each of your ankles. It was only a few minutes later that you felt Harry kneeling on the bed behind you, and your waist soon became supported in his hands.
“I promise that I’m only asking this to make sure that we’re both safe, but have you been with anyone since the last time we were together?” Harry asked, and you felt him beginning to slide his cock through your glistening folds.
“No, daddy, nobody since you last had me,” you told him honestly. “I promise.”
“And I haven’t had anyone but you, honey,” he leaned down - pressing a tender kiss to the middle of your spine. “You sure you want me?”
You knew that he was teasing now, and you wiggled your hips back against him. It caused his tip to nudge against your clit, and you both moaned out at the sensation.
“Use your words, Y/N,” Harry gripped to your hip slightly. “Tell me.”
“Yes, I want you. I want you so bad, daddy. I missed you so much,” you were begging now, but you knew that he liked it when you did.
The next thing you felt was Harry’s head nudged at your entrance, and he only gave you a minute to comprehend it before he was dipping himself inside of you. You tightened your hold on your ankles as you squeezed your eyes shut tight - feeling the familiar burn of him entering you completely.
“Can’t believe I even fit. ‘Y so tight,” Harry muttered behind you, and you soon felt the tip of his index finger grazing around where his length filled you. You felt pressure as he pushed his finger between your cunt and his shaft - having his knuckle slide against one of your walls.
The whine you were letting go caught in your throat, and your body shuddered as you felt his finger enter you completely to the point where the tip of it grazed your g-spot. “Fuck, and you can fit my finger too, darling? You’ll just stretch out for whatever I give you, yeah?”
You audibly exhaled as Harry’s fingers left you, and he soon began to rock his hips back and forth to get you even more wet, as well as to make sure he was properly slicked up for you. Your nails began to dig into your skin as Harry quickened his pace - the sound of your skin slapping together being the only thing either of you could hear except for your small whimpers.
“Such a good girl,” Harry’s chest met your back, and you felt his fingers playing with your clit again. “Is this what you wanted?”
Nodding, you opened your mouth to answer him, but he was giving it to you so hard that your brain couldn’t even figure out how to piece the words together.
Harry’s hand slapped down against one of your ass cheeks, causing you to lose the grip on your ankles as you lurched forward. You were now flat against the bed with Harry still inside you as you wiggled your legs underneath him. Panting, you felt Harry kissing over the back of your neck as he reached forward to grab one of your hands - lacing your fingers together. His other hand was propped up beside your head to make sure he wasn’t putting his weight on you.
“Talk to me, “ he said softly as he continued to place delicate kisses across your neck. “Are you okay, love? Do we need to stop?”
You shook your head as you gave his hand a squeeze. “No, daddy. Can I turn over though? I want to see you.”
“Of course, baby,” Harry cooed, and without him slipping out of you, he carefully turned you over onto your back.
The sight of you had his heart swooning. Your face was flushed, and your eyes were slightly teary from your spankings - as well as him overstimulating you a bit. You were so beautiful to him. You were everything he ever wanted, and he didn’t know how fate had the two of you cross paths the way you did, but he wouldn’t change it for anything.
“I love you,” you whispered, lifting your hands to run them over his shoulders, and then down his chest. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Y/N. I’m sorry for keeping it from you like I did, and I was being a little selfish by having what we agreed upon mean a little more to me, but I need you to know-”
You lifted your finger to place it against his lips, and you shook your head. “Let’s not talk about that, okay? We’re here, and we’re with each other. And now, I’m going to ask you to please make love to me, Harry.”
A fire ignited in Harry’s chest at your words, and he grabbed both of your legs to have you wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands cupped your rib cage, right underneath your breasts as he began to start up his thrusts again.
Leaning down, he pressed his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss, and you moved your hands to cradle the sides of his neck. He sucked your tongue into his mouth, earning a whine from you, and he began to give it to you even harder.
You were in absolute bliss. This was the first time where you were having sex with that wall down - outside of your dynamic. This was you and Harry having sex, not a dominant and a submissive.
From the angle he had you at, his shaft rubbed along your clit with every movement, and your toes began to curl as you were already on the brink of your orgasm. “I-I’m gonna come,” you pulled away from Harry’s mouth as you arched further into him - head back with your breast pressed against his chest.
“Already, love?” Harry said as he kissed over your jawline. You began to clench down around him, and you felt as Harry’s hips stuttered at the feeling. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come so quick if you do that again.”
His words were lost as you felt your orgasm taking over, and the noise of pleasure that left you had Harry’s prick twitching inside of you. Once you came back down, you heard Harry’s shallow breaths above you, and you fluttered your eyes open to see him still staring down at you.
With his jaw slightly slack, and his chain with the cross pendant dangling over your chest, you weren’t sure if you had ever seen something so captivating in your life. He was so gorgeous, and he was yours.
He wanted you.
“Come for me, Harry,” you took his face into your hands, tapping the tip of your nose against his. “I need you to fill me up.”
“Is that what you want?” Harry grunted as he picked up his pace. “Want me to fill you all up with my come? Have you home my babies inside your round tummy? Is that what you want, mama?”
You couldn’t help but feel your walls flutter around him again when he spoke those words. “Yes, yes, please. Fuck it up into me, Harry. Make it stick.”
You had never introduced the breeding kink before, but god did it make you both so feral.
Sliding your hands down his torso and around to his back, you unhooked your ankles from where they rested against his lower spine so that you could venture your hands down to cup his ass. Kneading the tissue in your hands, you began to pull him further into you, and you let out a loud ‘uh’ as you felt him brushing against your cervix.
“Fuck, Y/N. ‘M coming,” Harry moaned as he dropped his forehead against yours.
You continued to rock him through his sloppy thrusts until he was spent, and he collapsed on top of you. Your sweaty bodies stuck together, but neither of you cared. This was all either of you wanted after weeks of being apart, and you were so happy that you decided to answer his call tonight.
“Please, never leave me again,” Harry whispered as he pressed kisses on the swells of each of your breasts before connecting your lips in a delicate kiss. “I can’t be without you, darling.”
“I won’t, Harry, I promise. I couldn’t ever be without you either.”
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HI. This is the pornstar!AU (Tiger Harry). Enjoy :D
CONTENT/WARNINGS: face-fucking, anal play-ish, Sir kink, general manhandling, light dom-sub dynamics
WC: 8.6K
“Are you open to raw anal?” is probably not a statement Y/N had …entirely expected to hear when she’d agreed to discourse over pastries and dirty chai lattes.
It’s a pretty good one, all things considered, and asked with complete professionalism, according to their careers and the open, apathetically businesslike expression shaping the features of her counterpart. Y/N takes a sip of her latte. It is quite a good latte. He wasn’t wrong there.
Harry blinks.
It’s very on brand, despite the way she’s sure one of the baristas has definitely twisted around from the dishpit, side eye discreet …but there. And in the barista’s defense, she couldn’t even blame her for eavesdropping on the sordid contents of their public discourse. Y/N isn’t going to turn around and look.
In Harry’s, he didn’t exactly shout.
The man across from her takes a slow sip from his latte. Good latte, very good latte.
She can’t help but admire his varying assortment of rings as he cradles the cup, irises winding from the blocky, golden S to its chunky counterpart, the H. So many times she’d admired those hands, those ring-clad fingers traipsing over bare skin, just the tips meddling over abdomens and winding circles around navels. Those digits sunk into the hair of his partner, tangled into the roots as he manually bobs her head over his cock. Those fingers twisting over the pink tip of his shaft, lining it up before his hips pump. Those long fingers splaying over cunts, swiping a thumb to ogle in front of the camera.
There've been so many instances where Y/N had wondered the significance of that H and that S. And it’s been really quite simple all along.
Should I call you Tiger in person, then? she’d tapped out over the LED keyboard, days prior when they’d only been discussing the prospect of a meet up. Days prior, before she’d flown out for an on-camera collaboration, to bask in the sunlight of California, to enjoy overpriced dirty chai lattes and oddly promiscuous dialogue in the corner of a cafe.
I think I’ll just take Harry when the cameras aren’t rolling x, RideTheTiger had messaged back.
Anyways, it’d probably be a sleazy, poorly-executed one liner (and consequently, a horrifically red flag) in possibly every other circumstance, but this isn’t a first date and RideTheTiger has, thus far, been the furthest thing from sleazy. Even paid for her dirty chai latte, practically shouldering her out of the slot at the register. Pulled her chair out for her, asked about her traveling fares prior to delving into said anal topic. It’s all been fairly gentlemanly. Very business-partner-coffee-meeting.
“No condom,” Harry tacks on, like it’s clarification for the raw segment of raw anal, as if it actually needed some sort of clarification.
Y/N takes another sip. Damn good latte.
“I like it,” the young woman tells him, clearing her throat on this edge that implies she’s mindful of her volume. Somehow, even as a freelance pornstar, she still hasn’t quite managed to get over the awkward degree of shame that a public setting incites. “I like the...”
That barista is definitely fucking peering over.
“…The mess,” she settles on, because anal creampie doesn’t feel like a term to be said with her whole chest over a guava pastelito.
For a short moment, Harry just watches her, jade roaming and the corners of his mouth slowing seeping into a simper, like he knows brazenly discussing anal creampies in the middle of a cafe — not quite packed, but still a cafe — has her kind of squirming in her seat. He takes another drink.
“She’s got airpods in,” the man tells her eventually, forest-y irises jolting to something behind her head — the barista that’s clattering about behind the counter. And if she’s listening in, she’s probably going to go home and find one of them online, or ultimately both, and probably subscribe.
The tension in her shoulders melts away the longer he grins at her over the lip of his lid, dimples indented in the flesh beside the upturned edges of his mouth. It’s just what they do for a living. It’s just sex. It’s just talking about the sex they’re going to have on camera.
There’s bells and whistles to it, too, but it beats sitting at home and answering phone calls where angry customers screech all tinny through the headset and don’t comprehend the words, “Sir, if you can’t use your inside voice and talk to me like a civilized human being, I’m not going to be able to resolve your issue.” For Y/N it is. At least she gets a couple of orgasms out of this.
“Sorry,” she tells him, shoulders slumping, “I think I’m still not— I get …weird talking about it in public settings.”
Tiger gives her this careful look over, eyes amused.
“S’okay, I understand. If you’d rather get into the details back at mine, I’m okay with that.”
“No, no,” Y/N protests, motioning out with her free hand, almost like her frigidly humiliated disposition will turn him off from collaboration, “No. It’s just, like. Sex work— it’s— it’s 2024. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
Harry blinks. He gives her another one of those slow, knowing grins with his strawberry mouth.
“No, seriously. We can get into the …rough drafting in a more private setting.” And then he takes another casual, horribly nonchalant sip, “I get it.”
The man splays back against the chair, the hand not clutching at his beverage laid against smooth bamboo varnish, the nails there neatly manicured and painted with a soft shade of green lacquer. Y/N wonders what that particular color would look like with a glimmering top coat after he’s sunk the digits in between her thighs. She casts her gaze back up to his face.
“I just figured I’d ask because we exchanged tests last week.”
Clean as a whistle, RideTheTiger, (appropriately renamed in her contacts as Harry Tiger OF collab), had messaged on a Tuesday afternoon. That text was tailed with an HDR attachment of paperwork detailing his clean-as-a-whistle results, for proof. And the polish on his nails, fingertips gripped over the edge of the sheet, had been a pretty sky blue in the picture.
She’d wondered the same thing, then; what OPI’s Rich Girls & Po-boys would look like glazed with a sheen of her slick arousal.
He’s just a fuckable man, Y/N thinks, sat back in his chair like discussing sex work scene scripting is a normal mid-day affair, soft dusting of stubble coating his jaw, curls swept up off his forehead. His white tee shrouds the swallows and the inky butterfly she’s seen flexing over his tummy, the laurels that seep into the deep cut of his v-line, but it does very, very little to hide the artistry that litters his arm.
That same arm she’d seen in videos, wrapped in pumped muscle as his fingers had worked his partner to the brink of bliss at a merciless pace, plush mouth shaping over some sort of filthy croon, dimples indented. Those same hands cradling over his counterpart’s throat with a gentle squeeze, that same thumb swiping messily over his partner’s bottom lip. Those same eyebrows with a crease carved between their furrow, those same curls in sweaty, disheveled disarray from the incessant rake through of his hands as his cock got swallowed up by a pretty, swarthy-skinned brunette, or maybe a blonde. A curl that’d flopped over his forehead in those videos, hardly hiding a rivulet of sweat that’d dripped from his hairline, is neatly tucked back under designer shades, now.
Designer shades he’s bought with his dirty porn money, because despite his spiffy, clean boy, seemingly innocuous demeanor, RideTheTiger is dirty, dirty, dirty.
Because under his warm smiles and his twinkling jade, there’s an alter ego that lives on the internet. One she’s all too familiar with.
It makes her chest sort of flush under her sweater. This is happening. This is going to happen.
The chair creaks a little when he sits up, clearing his throat, “I didn’t want to assume, but. I mean— I’m sure you’ve seen, like, my tips. Is it …odd to say I’m a fan of your content?” his gaze slowly settles from his drink to her face, smooth baritone almost …bashful as plush pink splits into a beam and his words catch on a laugh, “Is that …weird?”
Y/N knows exactly what he’s referring to. They’d been two mutuals subscribed to one another, chunks of profit migrating from inbox to inbox. It’d been like a volley, electric currency bouncing through the expanse of the internet, racket to racket, account back to account, pinging notifications striking on uploads behind paywalls. Only then, Tiger was just a man behind a screen. Tiger wasn’t sitting at a table in front of her, and they weren’t discussing the crude elements of the video they were going to shoot together.
“Not at all,” Y/N clears her throat and pairs it with a side-to-side shake of her head.
She’ll never admit that she’d touched herself to the solo session that’d popped up in her DM’s behind a paywall only last week, an automated promotion sent out to all subscribers. The one where he’d been sat in one of those lush, swivel-y chairs in front of his computer, firm thighs splayed and ringed hand tugging over his leaky cock. The camera angle was broad enough to capture his eye contact with the lens, the way his front teeth would nip at his bottom lip, the way the column of his straining throat would go on show as he’d tipped his head back with a groan.
She blinks, staring ahead as she remembers the way cum had painted all the way up over the panting butterfly. Harry grins from across the table. She half-expects him to brazenly admit he’s done the same to her content. So far, she’s concluded that he’s quite unashamed.
“Makes it easier to fuck, right?” Y/N says, beating him to the punchline.
He makes this face then, tipping his head, eyes widening and blinking playfully, mouth curling like he’s appalled by her brazen admission in said public setting. Before the young woman can get flustered by his teasing, he sits back and lets his features relax into something soft.
“Yeah. It does.”
Harry doesn’t tell Y/N she should wear a plug on the day that they calendar in for shooting. Not while they’re in the cafe. In fact, he waits three whole hours until the very precise moment where she’s using her apple pay at a drive through for the notification banner to swipe down.
When Y/N steps into his entryway, there’s a wilting cactus stemming from a ceramic basin next to a bowl of keys and varying knick knacks. There’s a pair of dice in there, too.
“This is Tim,” Harry introduces, unprompted, motioning to the withering plant in passing.
Y/N nudges with her chin like a sort of acknowledgement, tailing him through the hallway, where a neat array of three framed, abstractly artistic renditions of Kama Sutra positions line the segue. She’s half convinced that the doggy one follows her movement like one of those oddly unsettling renaissance portraits.
“Very nice.”
It’s a Thursday, and they’ve determined today to be the day that they collaborate. She’s wearing the plug, and she tries to ignore the anticipation curdling in the pits of her tummy as she tails him to the lounge.
“I think I overwatered him, honestly,” Harry tells her, aimed over his shoulder, “but I can’t bear to part with him.”
He’s wearing gray sweats, and he’s definitely opted to go commando, if the imprint of his dick when he pivots to face her is anything to go off of (though, whether he’s ditched underwear for the sake of the shoot or solely for comfort, Y/N isn’t sure). All she’s really, actually sure of is that she urgently needs to unglue her eyes from the outline of his cock.
“D’you want a drink or anything? I mean, I don’t like to do any alcohol before shoots, but if you want, I have seltzers in my fridge.”
He’s all soft attire — the sweats and bare feet padding over tile, curls a little mussed and swept back. A white tee coats his torso with a cartoonish bee in the center. The words ENJOY HEALTH, EAT YOUR HONEY circle the little piece of outlined artwork in blue. His nails are still green.
Y/N clears her throat. “Do you have water?”
“F’course.”
The kitchen is beside the lounge, and he tells her, as he makes his way over and opens a cabinet to cull a glass, “You can have a seat if you’d like. Figured we’d get the details down before we start filming.”
His couch is an onyx leather, its form like one of those fancy ones from a 1970s inspired catalog. Y/N sinks into the cushion. She crosses her legs. Uncrosses them. Behind her, the fridge whirs in the kitchen as the water pours into the glass. She’s admiring his fireplace when he stretches the beverage out to her.
“What are we feeling today?” the man winds around to the bend of the sectional, flopping back against the cushions with a sigh as his cotton-clad thighs splay, “…Slow and romantic? Something a little more rough?”
“Used and abused,” Y/N responds, surprised she manages to keep her cadence as even and nonchalant as she does. The second the statement escapes her, though, she takes a long sip from her glass and hides her simper behind it.
“Used and abused,” Harry parrots, sitting up a tad as his hands seek new homage from their priorly relaxed splay over the back of the couch. His palms smooth down the fronts of his thighs, instead, and he gives her this little grin; something mischievous that lets his dimples wink alive. “I think I can work with that.”
Yes. She’s certain he can, based on his track record of deviously, deliciously rough content. Three weeks ago she watched a video where his partner was laid out on a table, duck-taped limb to limb, and Y/N had watched his hand — rings removed — roam her body with such delicacy as he drove forward into her. It was all up until the point where the same hand had snaked up around her throat, and then he’d brought it back and smacked her right across the side of her unsuspecting face. It’d sent his partner’s head snapping to the side, and a wave of heat riding through Y/N, coursing through her blood as she’d flipped the vibrator between her thighs to a higher setting.
Yeah. He can work with that.
“Since we’re going with that route,” Y/N blinks out from the fog of memoirs circling back to Tiger’s hands exploring and pinching and delivering blows.
Tiger is much more subdued in this setting.
“Let’s talk things you’re into, things you’re not so into.”
The young woman gnaws into her cheek to bridle her grin. “Um. Anal’s a go. Obviously.”
Harry nods, mouth friendly, “Okay.”
Y/N deliberates. She takes another sip. Harry waits patiently. His green bores into her, and the young woman rolls her lips into her mouth, pupils climbing up to the ceiling as she contemplates. She cocks her head.
“…Face-fucking. That’s nice. I like dirty talk. I like getting my hair pulled. I like a little bit of pain. You know, like. Spanking. Face slapping, but not, like,” the edges of her mouth cave up, “MMA level—“
The joke culls a huff of soft laughter from him. He nods.
“Just. General manhandling is good with me,” Y/N tells him.
Harry nods, his fingers interlocked over his spread knees, and then he sits up a tad.
“Alright. If we’re going with face fucking, I’m a fan of the trusty tap-tap-tap,” he tells her, motioning with his left palm and patting over his thigh in a series of three as he speaks, “If it ever gets to be too much and you can’t say it, just tap three times, yeah? Just like this.”
Y/N nods. She takes another sip. For a moment, Tiger still has his forearms braced over his lap, but then he sits up a little more.
“And then when you can say, if anything’s uncomfortable, if you want me to do anything different, just let me know. Doesn’t matter if the camera’s on.”
Y/N crosses her ankles. She uncrosses them.
“S’all about authenticity. Y’know,” his tongue peeks out to swipe over the plush of his bottom lip, “I don’t wanna be throwing you against the wall or choking you if it doesn’t feel good, even if it looks good on camera. If you’re a clit girl, we’ll play with your clit—“
Her thighs press together.
“If you’re a g-spot girl, we’ll focus on the g-spot.”
She swallows.
“The throwing against the wall and the choking,” Y/N doesn’t bother hiding her simper as it grows, “Those are good with me, too. And— clit stuff. Yeah.”
Tiger is hot. Fire hot, like lava coursing and bubbling over rigid stone, even in his soft attire with his soft curls and his soft smiles. He’s got these eyes that feel like they bore through her clothes, but it’s not in an uncomfortably hungry way.
“What do you… what should I call you during the shoot?”
His strawberry mouth curls a little.
“I hear Tiger a lot. M’fine with whatever besides Harry on camera. …If you wanna get a little more into roles we can do Sir. But s’all up to you.”
It feels like he’s just got this effect — this intense gaze that makes her tummy swirl. It’s not innately an odd shift, going from this entirely professional discourse to soft touches roaming up her sides once they’re in the bedroom.
It’s the setting for their shoot, and she finds that he’s already got a camera set up on his dresser. One of those that opens up and has a little screen piece that swivels to show what’s currently recording. Harry trails over to it, toggles with the little screen, and, she assumes, begins recording.
There’s a shag rug by the bed in cream. Y/N eyes it as Harry tugs his shirt over his head, as he makes his way over. Tiger is fire hot, but his touch skims her arm like testing the waters at first. His palms cups her face, the pads of his fingers grazing the sides of her neck, close to her nape, and then his cushiony mouth finds her own. That’s testing at first, too. It’s not a chaste, innocent first kiss by any means, but his mouth is gentle, at first. His hands aren’t hard, and his mouth slots against her own with a kind of tenderness. When her fingers tease up at his waistband, fingering at a warm line of skin between his sweats and his t-shirt, his mouth morphs hungrier.
“Just—“ Y/N manages between searing kisses as his fingers work the seams of her shirt apart through button-work, “—-jumping right into it, huh?” It’s probably not the sexiest thing to say from the get go of the camera rolling, but she’s honestly still got bits of nerves coiling up in her. This is RideTheTiger. This is happening. She’s going to fuck RideTheTiger.
Another short kiss, this one she can feel the cushiony pink of his mouth curving up into.
“Sorry,” Harry amends against her mouth, lips ghosting wetly against her cupid's bow, and the word sounds sort of amused.
And then he’s manually spinning her and marching her over to the dresser, where the camera is set up, her stumbling, rushed gait steadied by the firm press of his thighs from behind as he walks her, colossal hands cupped over her arms.
“This—” he starts, an introduction blatantly made for the lens, and her pulse stutters when his palm slides up and across and cups over her throat warmly — not quite squeezing, but just there. His other hand explores the expanse of her silhouette from the waist down, pads of his fingers roaming over her tummy, “—is the infamously naughty Birdie.”
Her veins thrum with something, something hot when the ringed digits traipse to the button of her jeans, just looming over.
“Can I take these off?” Harry murmurs against the shell of her ear. The tips of his curls tickle at her temple, and she knows he asks it low enough that it’s meant for her. She knows the camera will pick up on it anyways, too.
“Yeah,” the agreement falls out meshed with an exhale, and her head tips back against his shoulder as his fingers do deft, impressively one-handed work at quick discarding.
The other hand fondles at one of her tits, only covered with fabric for so long before he takes advantage of the opening he’d made along the line of buttons, pulling at one side for the pink polka-dotted cup of her bra to come out on display. This is all very pro-level disrobing. Y/N decides that when Harry multi-tasks, popping the button of her denim through, pinching at the zipper and tugging down, all still with his other hand caressing over padded flesh at her chest. Ultimately, though, both hands make their way to her hips, and his digits wriggle under either side of her waist band to strip her jeans off, until they rest at about an immobilizing mid-thigh, with an unceremonious yank.
“I’m Tiger,” Harry talks again, finally, after what’d been a silent moment of apparent concentration, his chin ducked into the nook where her shoulder and her neck meet.
The man’s fingers toy up under the hem of Y/N’s shirt, wandering over a bare sliver of skin between the top and the line of her panties before they climb the buttoned suture and make work there.
A chill rolls down her spinal cord, stemming all the way from the nape of her neck, the back and underside of her skull, when Harry declares, almost like she’s not even there, his voice a low and heady baritone, “But, she’s going to call me Sir, and we’re gonna play a little rough with her today, because that’s what she asked for.”
He’s mid her panting ribcage when the tone in his dialogue switches. It melts from sultry and low to something mirthy when the man sighs and huffs against her neck, like the rounded latches are a long-time nemesis, “Buttons, buttons, so many buttons.”
Y/N can’t curb the surprised laugh that bubbles from her in response. Her hands rise from her sides (where they’d prior been pretty glued, mostly out of awe and the raw sort of submission manhandling incites), and her forearms brush against his own warm skin as the pads of her fingers shakily work over the stitch he’s on. Harry makes an amused sound into her skin as the corners of her mouth curl up.
This is real. These are the real moments, the ones that she’s ogled so many times from the other side of the screen, caught on camera mid an otherwise entrancing, perfectly choreographed session of picture-perfect fucking. Like the one where he’d spit and it hadn’t landed where he’d wanted it to, or the one where his partner had spent so long in an angle with her hair over her face and his palm cupped over her mouth, that by the time he’d let up she was spitting out stray hair that’d sunk in past her lips, like a cat with a hairball. Soft laughter had bloomed from the both of them when recognition had dawned, and he’d fingered over her tongue to help her as they’d switched positions. It makes sense why Harry never seems to edit those moments out.
Authenticity.
Y/N hopes he doesn’t cut this fragment of the video out.
“Sorry,” the young woman tells him, her voice garbled with giggles.
His hands snake up from under her own and they’re the one to pop the final button through. A chilly ring brushes the inside of her wrist. The top separates.
“There we go,” Harry says, tone colored with enthusiasm, and the way his fingers grip up under the cups of her bra, four for each, and tug abruptly, letting them rest under her freshly-bared tits, kind of, sort of gives her whiplash.
“Teamwork,” his thumbs slip under either side of her underwear and slink those down until just enough is showing for the eye of the lens.
Her gaze flits to the viewfinder, and the little icon of her denuded silhouette, pressed up against his chest, one swarthy, inked arm tucked over her ribcage and the sight of his other, ringed digits skimming lower, down her tummy, has her squirming in his grasp. Harry sponges kisses to the side of her neck, and then those ring-clad fingers slide between her legs. Every melty muscle in his arms grows wide awake and tensed like fucking stone. It’s only for a second, before he draws his index and his middle digit, splayed into a blissful V, across either side of her clit. That’s when she liquefies like putty in his hands again, humming softly.
“…And we’re gonna play with her arse,” Harry tacks on for the camera, almost like it’s an offhand afterthought and not the entire basis of the scene they’ve etched out.
Y/N laughs, but it melts off into something soft and whimpery when the V lingers and drags.
“Would you like that?” Harry murmurs, nose tucked into her hair — another comment where the volume implies that it’s obviously meant to be shared between just the two of them — his mouth ghosting over her earlobe and his hand climbing up the ridges of her ribcage like a ladder, “Hm? You want me to play with you there?”
When his palm expands to rest over the gap between the caging of bone, the space extends out on a breath and she rocks in his touch, hips rolling back subtly. “Mhm.”
It’s not something he fails to pick up on. The pads of his fingertips expertly toggle at the clasp of her bra — honestly, she’s ludicrously impressed, not only by his keen recognition of the frontal clasp, but this seemingly innate, deft ability to discard clothing pieces with one hand. The straps relax and slip down her shoulders the second the cups fall free and apart.
“Mhm?” Harry mimics; a low, teasing hum. Y/N thinks then, that this little, patronizing repetition thing he’s got going on could be categorized as a kink in and of itself.
The palm that’d settled over her diaphragm slinks up to grope at one of her tits.
It’s kind of game over from there.
There’s something hard and solid digging into the small of her back, and the longer he spends fondling between her thighs, the longer he spends swiping his thumb over her nipple, the more heat teems to her core, like a glowing warmth that seeps and pulses. The more sure Y/N becomes that his fingertips are definitely culling that top coat she’d pictured all along, enhancing the color there with glinting excitement.
“There’s a good girl,” Harry purrs when her legs spread a smidge more in response, despite the way they’re nearly glued together with the immobilizing squeeze of her waistband resting mid-thigh.
The tip of his nose burrows into her hair and grazes at the skin on the side of her neck when his head ducks, fingers sneaking further until the pads press to explore where she’s gushing. His index and his thumb work in tandem to pinch at a nipple and tug.
And then his tongue licks a practically searing stripe right beside her jugular, and his words send air over wet skin to soothe the flame, “…Getting my fingers all wet, aren’t you?”
Gameovergameovergameovergameover.
Shelosesshelosesshelosessheloses.
Another burst of air over the wet skin, the soft creak of a chuckle — that’s what reminds her that she’s definitely not breathing.
Fuck. Y/N sucks in air with a chest tensed like metal armor. His teeth nip over her earlobe.
And then RideTheTiger slides his slick fingers out from between her legs, coaxing (when she sags in his grip like a marionette that’s had its strings snipped), “Why don’t you give them a little spin and show them the pretty plug you’ve been wearing for me, pet.”
Touch, touch, touch. When Y/N pivots for him, turning her backside to the camera, his mouth brushes the crest of her cheekbone. His warm pecs go flush with her own chest, his palms settle on her love handles and the insides of his rings stipple chills to combat the heat of flesh on flesh. He sponges a kiss to her throat when the young woman throws a glance back to the little screen and shakily presses her palms to the globes of her backside, pulling the flesh there apart to show off the pretty end, silicone petals cradling the shape of a rose.
That’s when he kneels, cheek pressed to the side of her thigh, when he casts his gaze to the plug with that telltale furrow to his brow bone that she’s seen caught on camera so many times. That’s when his teeth burrow into the pillow of his bottom lip, when he brushes a nearly tentative touch over the plug with the tips of his fingers. That’s when Harry nudges at it and jade bounces from the pallid pink plastic to the shape of her jawline tensing above in response, mouth growing mirthy.
Nothing prepares her for the way he praises, almost like he’s in awe (and nearly too low for the camera to catch), “So pretty.”
A crease works in between her own eyebrows when his index and his thumb pinch over the plug and twist. And then he lays his thumb over the base and pushes, lightly, as if it can go any further. He draws the pad of his index over the hilt of the plug almost thoughtfully, and then tap-taps in a pair of two that makes her roll her lips into her mouth
“Don’t move,” Harry instructs, after a moment, sneaky, devious fingertips withdrawing altogether. She’s holding her breath again. Y/N readjusts her grip.
“Just like that,” comes his croon from below, undeniably heady and entirely responsible for the warmth churning between her thighs, “…Just like that, little bird. Show it off, baby.”
Little bird hits her like a fucking freight train.
It’s just a play on words, a moniker he’s melded from her stage name, her online personality. It’s been all of, maybe, six minutes — a generous consideration for the timeframe — and he’s already managed to morph her porno pseudonym into a pet name with his soft murmur.
She’s so focused on the ironic way that such a delicate thing off his tongue makes something so violently carnal stir within her that the young woman doesn’t even notice that he’s been sat near her thighs for a solid second, unspeaking and untouching, besides the paste of his warm cheek beside the press of her hands.
It’s a suspiciously mischievous sort of silence, but Tiger is no secret-keeper, not when he pats over the back of her leg, a one-tap gesture, and rises to announce, one third amused and two-thirds smug, “Thumbnail.”
The admission is so crude and unexpected that it draws a peal of sputtering laughter from her, feigned indignation meshing with mirth as he rises from the floor, all cocky with an unfairly alluring curl that’s strayed from the rest and flopped to lay over his forehead.
“You want to use my ass as your thumbnail?”
Muted raspberry breaks its relaxed line to curve up, obviously self-satisfied and obviously unashamed. Y/N doesn’t think she’ll ever quite keep up with the casual nature of Harry’s mannerisms, not when he hums and his grin splits further, twisting around her to daub her jaw with a kiss.
“…And not my pretty face?” Y/N blinks.
“Last I checked—'' Harry tells her, fingers raking through her roots and palm cradling at her scalp in a way that coaxes chills to bud and roam down the nape of her neck. The digits twist her hair into a bun until his palm is squeezing at her hair all bunched like a flower blooming in reverse, “—You were here to be used and abused, per your request. Not to ask questions.”
Despite the way he cranes her neck back with the motion, the way it has her jaw unlatching and a surprised exhale full of want escaping, despite the way he drags his teeth down her neck in a line, nipping, Y/N manages to keep her voice impressively even.
“You don’t want my pretty face painted with your cum as the thumbnail?” she baits, throat bobbing on a swallow.
He bites.
At first, his lashline narrows a smidge in obvious inkling that the brazen words have affected him, but then he tips his head and his smug beam morphs more sluggish, more pleased than amused.
“You want my cum painting your pretty face?”
“Mm,” Y/N hums in agreement when he turns her head to paste a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“Yeah? That’s what you want?”
His tone is suggestive as he manhandles her over onto the fuzzy rug she’d admired before things got all murky with arousal and …cinematic. Y/N twists in his grasp until he’s nudging her onto her knees with his hands.
And his voice is low, easy like a sigh, each note interlaced with nonchalance and seemingly effortless power, “Let’s see how good you suck cock.”
Before Harry shoves his waistband down, though, he stuffs a hand into his pocket and culls his phone. He gives her this look down from behind it, thumb tucked behind gray elastic. It’s this wordless, expressionless sort of seeking; all good? Y/N nudges with her chin, lashes fluttering. Tiger toggles over the screen one-handed, and her eyes flit to the uneven pull at his sweats — if only for a second — that showcases bare skin and the cut of a V-line on one side. As he nudges the sweats off to rest under his balls, the phone pings. It’s the sound of a notification — he’s recording.
His dick is pretty. Pretty in pink with a prominent vein on the underside and a soft dusting of neatly trimmed, dark pubic hair over his pelvic bone that his happy trail had foreshadowed, and his tip is a ruddy shade that matches the tint of his mouth. She’s seen his cock before, obviously, but ogling it in person rather than as a conglomeration of pixels is a different sort of experience. He’s always looked big on screen, the sheer size of him with a fist over his shaft always implying it. But he’s big. Big enough for two of her hands to cradle over his cock comfortably with the head peeking out from her grip, digits never quite meeting in the middle. Y/N spits into a palm before wrapping it over his shaft, eyes flickering up front under her lashes to meet the lens of the camera.
“You’re so big,” the young woman admits after a moment, irises bouncing from her grip to the phone looming over, and she drags her tongue over her other palm to cup over him with two like it’s proof.
And Harry strokes over the side of her scalp, almost like he’s wordlessly scratching a dog’s ears in praise, a soft, pleased huff escaping through his nostrils and his lips shaping over a smug sort of beam that never really unseals.
Almost tentatively, with her eyes still bouncing from the lens to his cock and back, Y/N leans forward and drags his tip over her tongue. Harry sighs in response, fingertips still hovering at her roots. She purses her lips and lets saliva dribble from her mouth onto his head messily, swiping over the wetness with her thumb, and then she strokes down his shaft with two hands as she wraps her lips over him and draws a circle with her tongue. The subtle, although sharp, inhale she earns in response to the motion has her batting her lashes up at the camera.
“You’re not shy at all, are you? Not in front of the camera,” Harry says after a moment.
He’s so obviously bridling a hiss when she drags her tongue up under his leaky tip, his front teeth lodging into the pillow of his bottom lip and brows furrowing. Despite the phone cradled over her face, the young woman still has enough room to observe his. Y/N bats her lashes coyly, pupils flitting back to the camera as her mouth opens to showcase the view of her hands working in gentle twists while she drags his cockhead over her tastebuds.
“…No, you’re not that shy, little girl that you were in the cafe at all.”
She seals her lips over his tip, hollows her cheeks, and hums.
“…All prim and proper,” the fingertips that’d scraped over the side of her scalp trail to the back of her head, “…Didn’t even wanna say you liked cum dripping out of you. Didn’t wanna let everyone know that you’re a little anal whore.”
The words coax her to clench over the plug.
“…S’okay, baby,” Harry tells her after a moment, “I like that you’re a whore on camera for me,”and then the hand that’d cradled over the back of her skull encourages her own palm to slowly unwrap and fall away as he curls it over his shaft to guide it’s aim.
Y/N pulls off, and Tiger smears the tip over her spit-slicked, swollen mouth. It parts, and Harry traces over the open seam of her lips like he’s applying lip gloss.
“Please,” the young woman says, mouthing over his tip, almost inaudible.
“Hm?”
“Please,” Y/N repeats, and the drag of his tip slides over her bottom lip on the s.
Harry inhales from above. He doesn’t immediately give her what she wants, instead opting to draw over her cupid’s bow as he tips his head, voice quiet and still somehow full of a dominant edge. “So polite. You wanna taste more of my cock?”
The young woman nods, eyes tipped up, and he smears his cockhead over her mouth again. Harry’s teeth nudge into the plush of his bottom lip before he directs, “Stick your tongue out for me. I’ll give you a little taste.”
And he does. He grazes her tongue with it the moment it’s on show, basking in her soft breaths puffing out against him and the sweet sight of her gaze, unwavering.
“S’that good?” Harry asks, mouth curling at the (currently) brazenly lewd young woman at his feet, “What you wanted?”
And she just nods up at him. Despite the way she wants more, the way she wants to close her lips around him and keep twisting her grasp to watch his seams split in ecstacy, Y/N motions lightly with her head. A little sound escapes the back of her throat when he drags the tip of his cock back over her top lip and sighs.
“You really are such a little whore, aren’t you?” Harry says, tracing along the open seam of her lips with the tip and dragging it over her tongue again, “Give me a pretty smile. Show me just how much you like it.“
His words melt off into a rumbly hum when, as he draws over the border of her bottom lip and takes his cock off her tongue, her pretty teeth slowly seep shut and the corners of her mouth form something absolutely overjoyed. Her head cocks, and she grins up at him. All innocuous too, if it weren’t for the head of a cock smearing over the edges of her smile. His thumb slinks out from the hold he’s got over his dick to graze with the pad at the shiny white of her top teeth.
“Good girl.”
Somewhere around there is when her teeth part and his thumb mingles onto her tongue. Then, the young woman wraps her lips over the digit and sucks. The tension of her cheeks hollowing over his finger in the silence is cut short with a ping — Harry turns the camera off and flings the phone somewhere in the direction of the bed. There’s no definitive thump behind her, so Y/N assumes the man makes it. She hums and pulls off of the digit with a pop and a giggle.
Dimples pluck alive beside his smile. “Something funny?”
“No,” the young woman clears her throat, the apples of her cheeks still emphasized and round with her apparent amusement, “Nothing. It’s just.” She blinks up at him, “…Surreal, sort of. Your dick’s just as pretty in person as it is on camera.”
Tiger cocks his head and swipes over her bottom lip with the tip of said dick. She’s quite good at stroking his ego.
“Thanks. That’s sweet, darling.”
A furrow works between his brows as her tongue peeks out to daub at the lingering head. “You watch a lot of my videos?”
And the admission comes almost hungry, with no remorse, “Mm. Touch myself to them.”
That’s when his brows crease more, when heat swells down through the trench of his tummy and teems up the underside of his balls, where they drive taut at the words.
“Christ.”
Blown jade bouncing from her lips to the contact of her own eyes and back. Eventually, he swallows and directs, “Tongue out.”
When she displays it for him, jaw wide, those shambles splinters of composure seemingly fuse. The Harry that emerges nearly gives her whiplash.
“You touch yourself to my videos?” Harry coos, and the words are coated with so much condescension that Y/N is sure she’d be humiliated in any other circumstance.
Her tongue twitches under his cockhead. The man looming over swipes that same, leaky tip over her taste buds, and his grin broadens into something like a borderline sadistic Cheshire cat. And then he’s leaning over a smidge, cock still angled over her outstretched tongue, opposite hand fondling under that, at her jaw, and squeezing at her cheeks.
“That is so—“ emphasizing the words with the slap of his tip against her tongue, Harry grits out, “—fucking—“ another tap that has her uselessly lolled tongue jolting and a garbled little sound wresting from the back of her throat, “—cute.”
Y/N blinks up at him, one hand uncurling slowly and falling away as he nudges the back of her head to swallow more of him in past her lips.
“Why don’t you use that hand and play with your little clit for me? The way you do when you’re watching me.”
She makes a muffled noise around him as he sinks in further, and her hand traipses between her poorly, poorly splayed thighs.
“That’s it,” Harry murmurs, though whether the praise is directed at the way the tips of her fingers pry between her legs or the way she blinks wetly over his cock as she takes more of him into her mouth, Y/N is unsure. “There’s a good girl. Look at me— yeah. Fuck.”
He holds onto either side of her head, long fingers splaying over her skull, and the young woman splutters when his tip prods at the back of her throat and teases at her gag reflex. The tip of her nose grazes his happy trail, so all in all, it’s a solid effort in one go. Harry holds her there for a moment, relishing in the squeeze of her throat over him as she fights sputtering more, and a throaty groan rips from his vocal chords before his fingers tangle into her hair. That’s when he yanks her off.
Her chest is already rolling in pants, and the way his palm collides with the fleshy area of her cheek nearly launches her lightheaded headspace into overload. The blow isn’t loud, and it doesn’t really hurt, but he does it a second time, palm grazing over the same fragment of skin. It’s the hand that doesn’t have any rings, and Y/N’s mouth curls up in borderline delirious bliss, teeth unsealed and lips swollen and saliva-daubed. Tiger coaxes a moan when he goes for it a third time. But this time, his hand snakes to palm over the column of her throat and squeeze.
“Fuck, you’re filthy,” Harry tells her, thumb cruising over an inch of skin, “Such a slut for it.”
Her pulse thunders under his grasp. It’s almost like his touch pries the nearly animalistic giggle off her lips. She’s still beaming open-mouthed, and her voice is raw when she beckons, “Yeah—“
And then there’s a ragged gasp and subdued sort of gag, coated with surprise, when Tiger nudges her face forward and unceremoniously shoves his dick back down her throat, his brows pinched.
“Get that mouth back on my cock.”
Her hands find his thighs, just wavering over them, curling and unflexing as her eyes squeeze shut.
“Don’t close your eyes. Look up at me. Look up at me— there you go,” Harry cooes when, despite every instinct that coaxes every muscle in her face to clench and tense, Y/N follows his directions and blinks up at him through a watery sheen. “Shit.”
And then he’s hauling her off and she’s gasping for breath, only for a short moment before he slides back past her jaw until her chin is flush with his sac and he’s pulsing in the warm confines of her mouth. Her lashes flutter. A devious kind of laugh bubbles from him, breathy, and low, and short when the heels of her palms press into the sturdy muscle beneath his laurels. Except this time he doesn’t yank her all the way off for a third time. He holds her there for a second, swearing softly at the view, and then tugs her off until his tip’s on her tongue and pumps back in. It’s a subtle motion — testing, like he’s observing her reaction, really assessing her comfort levels with this. He does it a few more times, as gentle of a motion as it really can be until she squints her eyes shut and muzzles a cough, blinking up at him rapidly through the blur.
Harry swipes a thumb under her eye, where a rivulet leaks, praising almost in a whisper as she practically vibrates at his feet, “That’s it.”
Another second to gasp in air, and then he’s fucking her mouth, brushing her gag reflex with every drive forward and every pump out. Y/N sort of loses herself in it — in the fingertips burrowing into her roots, in the huffs and groans that escape him, in the warm muscle beneath her touch, in the way his dick slides down her throat. It’s quite nice. RideTheTiger is fucking her mouth, and it’s nice.
“Look at you,” Harry hums after a while, the hold on the back of her head firm, and she blinks at him all teary-eyed, gagging around him as her chin presses flush with his balls. “So sloppy. Made my nice joggers all wet.”
Drool pools down her chin, and strings of it dangle from his balls and sully the fabric further. She bats her lashes up at him, and tears slink off from her waterline. Her fingers flex and relax over his thigh, never quite loosening the tension there fully. The man swipes the thumb on his free hand under her eye, where inky black has smudged off from her lashes, and the lewd, left corner of his mouth tips up lopsidedly.
“You’re such a pretty girl when you’re making a mess,” and then, to nail the demeaning compliment home with the most heady, joyfully smug tone, “Yes you are, little bird.”
His sluggish grin morphs into a borderline pornographic lip-bite then, and he cranes his neck back with a throaty hum, fingers tensing and relaxing, before his digits ultimately tighten in her hair and coax the young woman off. She coughs like she hasn’t breathed in ages,
Y/N doesn’t know how she gets up to her feet. It’s a lightheaded clamber, coaxed by Harry’s fingers tugging at her hair, his hand on her arm, his definitive, “Get up.” Somehow, though, she manages, despite the fact that her jeans are still half-on, and Harry steadies her and makes her dizzy all at once when his mouth presses hungrily to hers. One hand cradles the side of her neck and the other braces her at the hip. It’s a heated kiss, like Tiger doesn’t mind that her chin is coated with spit, or that the same spit smears over his own jaw as their mouths connect. Y/N nearly trips over her own feet as he walks her, backwards, into the general direction of the bed. The mattress meets the backs of her knees and his hand (which has, since settling on her hip, mingled up her side and cupped over one of her tits) sends her toppling back against the sheets. Harry nearly snickers at her look of indignation. Instead though, he tucks his fingers up under her half-down denim and tugs until her pants are off and she finally, finally has the ability to spread her legs. He tosses those onto the rug, and Y/N watches Harry finish disrobing, kicking the gray sweats into a rumpled pile beside her jeans.
The camera is still rolling on the dresser, and it’ll keep rolling. It’ll keep rolling when he sinks his face between her thighs, it’ll keep rolling when he pulls the plug out and nudges his fingers in, when he slips his cock into her cunt and then, eventually, switches to her other hole. Or maybe it’ll go in an all different order. Tiger cradles her by the hips and repositions her roughly. The lens doesn’t catch the way she’s all shimmery between her legs with want from its angle, but Harry does, eyes glued there as his fingertips trail featherlight up her thigh and back down.
A crease works in between his brows like he’s contemplating something, and then he pats the same fragment of flesh he’d been caressing and instructs, “Flip over.”
Y/N tips over to her side and then rolls onto her tummy, but when she clambers onto her hands and knees Harry beckons, “Where are you going, little bird?” He sighs, warm palm grasping over her ankle and yanking her back towards the edge of the bed, just until Y/N is splayed and forced to shimmy her way back into a pretty arch. “Hm?”
His hand is still gripped over the joint when the other climbs up the back of her naked thigh, skin on skin petting softly there. “Where are you going, little girl?”
She’s going to implode. She nearly does when his colossal palms cup either cheek of her backside and spread. He hums like he’s pleased.
“Which hole should I fuck first…” Harry ponders aloud from behind, but it all feels sort of rhetorical when he nudges over her tightest, little hole, pressing like he’s teasing a breach with the tip of his digit.
She thinks he must be using his other hand, too, because the pad of his thumb drives a circle over her puffy, spit-slicked clit. The ring of muscle flutters.
“…Hm?”
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wrangled
a harry styles one-shot.
14k words.
cw: age-gap, sexual content, spitting, spanking, squirting, dirty talk, humiliation kink, coarse language, dom/sub kink
Forte Ranch.
Kettle Falls, Washington.
June Forte is the 24 year old daughter of Travis Forte– the owner of the largest bison ranch in eastern Washington. When she returned home from college, her wishes of becoming a teacher in the area land her with a few different jobs– one that also includes the family business.
It's not lost on her that when she starts noticing that a superbly handsome, older ranch-hand who introduces himself in a deep-posh accent as Harry Styles, that she seems to lose a bit of focus on the picture: make enough money to leave Kettle Falls for good.
But, the older man seems to keep running into her no matter how many times she tries to leave. Maybe, she recognizes, that it isn't a coincidence.
When Harry and June are one day left alone, the tensions are higher than ever. Once June gets a taste, her intuition starts to let her know that maybe seeing the dimples underneath the brim of the Stetson is easier to lean into rather than run from.
He's not letting her run away that easy.
"Goddamnit, Fury– let's go!"
She pulled at the lead; the rope pulled at her hands a bit when the horse continued to stand his ground, obviously more powerful than her.
A quick sigh, a puff of air to move some of the hair off of her face. June couldn't help but groan at the horse's stubbornness that kept him inside the confines of his stall.
She had a lesson in an hour now. Not that it would have been a huge deal— the family that she taught for were very laid back, but her need to follow a schedule made Fury's outburst quite annoying as it would take a bit of time to get him out now.
The horse-riding lessons that she had been giving were supplementing the cash flow through the summer. Next year, she would be starting a position as a teacher at one of the local schools in the area. June had gone to school in Seattle; it was the biggest culture shock for her when she arrived in the big city.
From growing up on the ranch to moving to the big city with just what she could fit in her dad's pick-up–she had loved every moment of it. She loved seeing the way that the traffic built up everywhere in the early mornings, the honking horns, the sleepy travelers in the coffee shops every morning.
It was a learning experience that she had been blessed with. But, in reality, her heart stayed in the eastern mountains; the smell of the fresh air every morning gave her such a high that she hadn't been expecting to miss with her whole heart.
Living on this ranch, in this small town, had been in her heart this whole time. She hadn't recognized how much of her she still had to learn.
When you're young, you want so bad to leave. Then, you see the rest of the world, and you find home so much more appealing. It feels secure, it feels like a place that you can come back to when you're finished exploring.
It's a place to relax. A place to replenish. A place to house your soul.
Now, she say her fighting with her horse who seemed to have the upper-hand.
"Fury, if you don't come on," She rubbed the horse's nose, giving him a look as he tilted up his head quickly. "You're being so stub—"
"Might wanna give him something to entice him."
The sound behind her makes June jump with a fright, a gasp escaping as she had been lost in her own world. There's a man standing on the opposite side of her now, unlocking the gate of the horse stall. She hadn't noticed him before, so she wondered how long he had been standing there watching her struggle with the ropes her hands.
A chestnut mare stands, grunts softly in front of him as he looks back at her. June recognized the man, which didn't seem to happen often. The farm has lots of people coming through, many stay for weeks– months, maybe. The summer months are preparing for the winter; she knew that a lot more came around at this time of the year.
But she recognized him.
There wasn't a person who wouldn't.
The man's accent threw her for a moment– not realizing if she had heard him speak before. She mustn't have, or she'd know the low drawl of a foreign tongue.
But there's a few certain men that have been around for a bit. This man, in particular, she thought. He wears his hair longer, a bit down on his ears. He pushes it back into his Stetson, the chocolate curls have grown every time she sees him closer.
He has a soft scruff along his jawline that was really only visible up close; a white tank top that has seen better days when it was a pure white on the rack. June lets her eyes wander for a moment before she sees that he notices, a hint of pink painting her cheeks as she watches that he seems to go on about his day without another word.
Not to mention: if you stared at him in the heat of the eastern Washington sun, it was entirely too close to see the shade of green that his eyes shone. They practically became translucent at how luminous they became.
June was a bit taken; her hands adjust on the lead as she watched the man throw a bridle over the large mare's nose. He clicked his tongue to get her to follow, the mare following him out of the stall easily. June watched at how easy it was; she knew Fury was a bit hard-headed to begin with, so it couldn't have been that easy no matter what he had said to her.
As the man started walking away just a bit, Fury took a step forward which helped June aid him out of the stall. It threw her for a moment, her body moving forward to help lead the horse where he needed. He followed, though a bit slowly as he shook his head when she pulled in the lead towards the saddling.
"See, told you," The man spoke once again, nodding his head a bit towards his mare, "Men are always enticed by pretty ladies."
He had taken the saddle off of the stand, throwing it over the mare's back. June's eyes stared at the way his muscles popped through the sleeveless shirt, pushing the heavy riding saddle up further on the horses back.
"Going for a ride?" The man spoke again, watching as June hooked Fury up to stand so that he was secured. June hadn't spoken yet, feeling her voice caught in her throat over the way that he had been a bit chatty with her. Her eyes drifted over to him, knowing he had been talking to her again which elicited a response.
She bit her lip, pulling up on the loops of her jeans that hugged around the curve of her hips.
"No, I teach, actually." June commented, brushing down Fury's neck before pushing some of his mane out of his eyes.
The horse chewed a bit, making her smile as his lips tried to nip at her arm. "Have a lesson soon. He's the best with kids, gives them a hard time but it's good for them to learn how to be a bit more assertive. He listens when you're real strict with him, just not well."
"Really all the qualities of a man, huh?" The man smirked; they stood next to each other at the station before June looked over and he had started to move towards her. His hand outreached, his eyes truly on her now as they became closer with each step he took. "Harry Styles."
June swallowed back, her hand moving out towards his as they locked together in a moment. "June Forte. You're a worker here?"
Harry's eyes shift for a moment when he notices the deep blue of her eyes and the familiarity of her generational smile. His tongue flicks out to run over his bottom lip as he lets his eyes drag over her a moment. June squirms under his vision, her breath halted as he takes his hand away and their touch loosens.
"And this is your ranch, I presume." He speaks, his words standing in the air.
June shrugs her shoulders up as if his comment didn't mean much. "Not mine– well, my family's, so technically will be mine or my siblings someday. My dad's dream was to own it, and I guess now he does. Was my grandads, and my great-grandads. He built it, and it's just a family heirloom now. But yeah– we live up there."
Harry's breath baited for a moment, a small scoff of a chuckle leaving his lips as he moved back towards the mare. The mare stomped on the ground, his hand moving to comfort her outburst.
"Guess I don't need to be flirting with the ranch owner's daughter, then. May be a conflict of interest."
June raised a brow at his words, feeling a hotness come across her neck as she moved to throw the big brush through Fury's chestnut coat. She faced away from him now, her head turning to look over her shoulder at the way he continued to smirk at her.
For the first time in a while, June's sharp tongue felt dull. She didn't know what to say as she felt some hair fall into her face as she managed to push the heavy brush through the horse's coat.
"Never been a huge rule follower, though." He followed up, pulling the reins of the tacked horse; he walked backwards out of the barn with his eyes on June– the shape of her body only let his eyes fall down and around her curves.
A soft chuckle came from her lips as she heard the clicking of his tongue, guiding the mare out. "Easy, cowboy." She called back, in a surprising quip, "My ranch, my rules."
"So now you're the boss?" He quipped, "giving me mixed signals, June." Harry paused for a moment, giving her a moment to comeback.
"Let's just say I'm pretty close to the guy in charge." June tilted her head, "But I'd say that flirting with the boss's daughter isn't in your best interest if you want to stick around."
June watched the man quickly bite his lip as if he was stopping himself from another remark.
"We'll see about that one." He called back, his boots crunching on the gravel once again, his eyes staying on her even when leading the large horse out of the barn. "Might be the opposite effect if I'm lucky."
June bit her lip at the thought of him– wondering if he had seen her before. Her legs adjusted just at the thought of his low, raspy voice. She hasn't heard it before, but now all she could hear was his words in the back of her head.
"Hope you find a four-leaf clover out there, gonna need it." June said back, watching as he moved away, a wink flying back at her.
She huffed, looking at her horse before a shake of her head made her feel a bit dizzy.
Maybe it wasn't the head shake that made her feel that way.
***
The following morning, Fury continued to give June quite a time. He was a stubborn horse, but she knew that he trusted her and vice versa. June never felt that she had a problem with him, he had been her horse for over ten years now.
June grew up with horses, riding and watching them was in her blood. She loved riding and watching people become more comfortable as they rode more. It was a pleasure for her to teach young kids to be comfortable and confident while riding, especially when it taught discipline and hard work.
Nothing about riding horses was easy– she continued to learn that the hard way. It took trust, and lots of effort to make sure that the animal underneath you trusted every part of you. The hardest part was putting your life in their hands. But, it was always worth taking that chance.
He kicked a few times, the young girl that she had for the lesson this morning was mostly scared that she was going to fall off. June reassured her that she would hold his lead, but that she needed to be strong.
"When you're scared, he's going to be scared," June tried to reassure her, watching the young girl— her name was Natasha, she was around eleven. "You have to be in control of him, and he's going to respond to you. But we can end the lesson a bit early if you're feeling some nerves— that's okay, too."
Natasha gave June a look; she was unsure, and June could read all over it. However, Natasha pushed through some of her nerves, which led to June eventually letting go of the reins and letting the girl trot some laps around the outside arena space.
"You got it!" She yelled over, staying on the fence, her eyes lighting up at the girl's excitement over her accomplishments of getting the horse to where she wanted him. "Let's loop around one more time, and then bring it back to the center."
June pushed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. The outside training grounds was a large area of the ranch, covered by trees and small patches of grass. She tucked some hair behind her ear that had fallen out of the messy bun she pulled at the base of her neck.
A small noise caught her attention as she started to make her way to the center of the arena to meet Fury and Natasha. June bit on her lip as she squinted in the early morning sun that was casting over the field down to the bison pasture. The gates had opened, watching the man from earlier in the saddle atop the chestnut mare.
His head turned to check that the smaller bison calves had made their way through to the other side of the fence.
"Shut 'em in!" He yelled, pulling at the reins of his horse before the other ranch-hand pulled at the metal gate on the other side.
The field sat opposite of the smaller training field that had been built for June's benefit; she absolutely loved teaching, loved the elements of getting young riders out on the back of a horse to feel the fresh breeze in their hair. It had been so therapeutic to her growing up when everything felt that it could have fallen apart at any moment— this was her world.
Growing up on the ranch had been a saving grace for her. It was the yin to the yang of the city that she had grown to love. She had never had the opportunity to fall in love with another place like she had with Seattle.
It didn't hurt that these were the kinds of views that she had, either.
June hadn't been paying attention as she heard her name being called; her head whipped around as she watched Fury stomp a few times and start to buck and push the young girl. June watched her expression as she held at the fence, watching the young girl struggle with the large stallion.
"Hold on, Natasha!" June yelled, sitting up on the large fence before she cupped her hands over her mouth, "Pull the reins real hard to the left!"
She could see the fear on the girls face as she tried to brace, tried to do what June had told her to. She wasn't strong enough to manage the horse as her foot slid from the saddle and her body flung to the side and off into the dirt of the ring.
June gasped outwardly with a few curses as she ran towards where the girl was flung off. Fury moved away now that she felt safe enough that she could grab her and move out of the ring. She felt horrible not being to stop it before it started, not reading the language of the horse before it was too late.
"Are you okay, sweetie?" June asked, the young girl sitting up on her elbows as she tried to brush herself off. "You're not hurt, are you? Nothing feels broken?"
She shook her head, the helmet bearing her fall as she seemed to just be a bit more traumatized than hurt. The adrenaline must've been moving through her as they stood up, June helping her as she looked around the ring to notice that the horse had made his way out of the ring through the gate she had opened, ready to lead them out.
"Shit!" June yelled out, her head moving around at an attempt to find the horse that had been trotting away. She tucked the hair behind her ear as she turned to look around.
"I'm so sorry," Natasha started, obviously in shock, "I-I didn't– I got scared."
June turned to the girl, shaking her head profusely. "No, no, sweetie. It's fine– as long as you're okay."
June took Natasha out of the ring, climbing up the fence and over to the grassy knoll. Her hands landed on her hips as she searched around for Fury who had gotten loose.
"Fuck," She whispered under her breath.
She didn't expect him to get so agitated. She hasn't had that happen before, which set her alert on high. Fury was the horse that she trained on, and without him, she couldn't hold onto her lesson schedule.
The next one was in twenty minutes, so she needed to figure out a plan on how to catch him.
The first part of the plan was to find the horse that had seemingly run away and out of the gate. Her attention moved back towards the young girl, who had taken off her helmet and seemed to have calmed down just a bit. She rubbed at her elbow that had a bit of a scratch.
"You head back to barn," She told Natasha, "If you see him, holler really loud for me. I'm going to go to the other fields, see if I can catch him."
The young girl agreed, making her way back down to the barns where her mother had been while she took the lesson. She would tell them what had happened, and to make sure they could catch him if he got around.
June started up towards the bison fields– the ranch handlers had been up there just a few moments prior to the incident, and she may have an idea of where the horse had run to. The property was large, almost three hundred acres of land. But, with the number of trees and wooded miles, it would be harder to catch him than it was with the open spaces.
The Forte ranch was surrounded by mountainous regions, which was good for the bison and the elk that were seemingly farmed in the area. June's family kept bison and yak, which was separate to the ranches out in the southwest. Their ranch was green and grassy, surrounded by lakes and streams with glaciers and chilly mornings.
The summer heat didn't always feel like summer, which was what made the mornings so delightful. It was June's favorite parts about the lifestyle of working outside, she felt like there was so much more to see and so much more to take in. It was her own sense of meditation.
"Hey," June called out to the two men sitting on the fences. "Did you see my horse run by? He threw my rider off and fled, and I didn't really see where he went."
The two men seemingly similar looked at one another before shaking their head, practically ignoring her as they continued to haul a few bales of hay into a truck that was backed up to the fence. "Sorry, hon, no."
June placed her hands in her back pockets before she stared at them for a moment. "Okay, well, he's black. Long white stripe down his nose, kinda pink on the end. His name is Fury, but he doesn't usually respond," She blinked a few times, starting to ramble as she thought for a moment, "Probably why he's being a pain in the ass."
She could tell that the men were seemingly uncaring for her request, so she sniffled out of awkwardness before her boots started to move her to the other end of the field.
A good thirty minutes flew by as she walked along the edges of the property, whistling softly for any sight of where the horse could've gone. The sudden sound of clicking made her head turn towards the wooded area; a strike of fear spooking her as she turned. It wasn't that she feared being on her own, but something about being vulnerable ate away at her.
Her heart instantly dropped as she saw two horses, one ridden and the other being held close by the familiar leather reins. The rider in question familiar as she felt her lips quirk up in a smirk at the look on the man's face. She released the breath she had been holding in.
"Think you're supposed to stay on the horse, not let him run away." The deep voice teased. He had been holding the reins of Fury while riding his own.
"He threw my rider," She told him, "I was trying to make sure that she was okay, and he ran off."
"She was quite young," He commented, obviously seeming a bit worried now. He slowed his horse down, the horse standing in front of June as she went to pet down the mare's nose. It crossed her mind that he had noticed her earlier, possibly been staring. "Was she okay?"
June shrugged, nodding. "No broken bones. Maybe a bit of broken spirit."
"You know what they say," He licked over his lip, "Gotta' get back in the saddle." It was then that a smile broke on his face, which halted her breath at the beauty of it.
She laughed at his dry humor, raising her brows. "They do say that, but I'm going to have to do a bit more training with him. He needs to be better for younger riders."
Harry threw the reins over his horse's head, June caught them in her own grip. She looked back up at him again with a small smile. "I appreciate your help– catching him and all that."
"Pretty good portion of my job," He told her, turning the horse a bit so he could face her better.
June had started to lead the horse back in the direction of where the ring and the barn were before Harry stopped her with his words.
"C'mon, hop on," He told her, shifting in his saddle, "We're almost a mile away. You don't want to have to walk."
June's eyes shifted a bit as she pulled at Fury's lead, walking backwards as she thinks about his request for a moment. It catches her off guard, but she shakes her head.
"I think I can walk," She assures him him with a chuckle. He sways a bit in the saddle as he starts after them, obviously going in the same direction.
"Didn't say you couldn't," He remarks back, June hears his tone and looks back instantly, watching his eyes lay on her. Her stomach dropped at the way his gaze felt; his words playing off the sharpness of his jaw, "Also wasn't looking for an answer, just action."
June eyed him for a moment, almost a stand off from her spot on the ground. She inhaled sharply before she bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't understand the feeling in her chest that had anchored its way down to a bit of heat. The authoritative speaking of his voice made her swallow.
"But what if I wanted to walk?"
June watches the twitch of his face when she denied him– when she didn't do as he asked. When she didn't succumb to his request; which, she was learning was more of a nice way to demand rather than request.
The man slipped off the saddle, moving away from the mare before he was now standing in front of June with her hair pulled from her face. The freckles on her nose were surrounded by a bit of sun-kiss, which the man took as a reward for being so close. His eyes trained in her for a moment before he noticed the hitch in her breath as they were toe to toe.
June subconsciously took a small step back before she felt the touch of his hand on her wrist. Her eyes stayed along the collar of the navy t-shirt that seemed a bit pulled at the collar. While a contrast to the white tank he wore yesterday, this accentuated the bronze of his skin from working out in the summer heat. The warmth of the summer sun has bronzed him, leaving the ink of his arms darker in contrast.
He took a package out of his back pocket, the cigarette between his fingers and dangling from his mouth now as his bright green eyes have a playful lift to them. She watches him teasingly as he lets it dangle from his tongue before placing one on her lip too, waiting for her lip to catch it.
She doesn't tell him that she only smokes when she can't sleep, or when she's stressed out by something her family has said. But she doesn't say anything, just sends him a smirk as they stand toe to toe. His fingers snap the lighter to his, hers next as he takes a draw.
"Anyone looking for you?" His voice was as smooth as leather as he kept his eyes directed to the way her cheeks sunk into breath in the smoke.
"Probably." She responds, drawing her lips between her teeth. She felt the stare down but folded as soon the dimple popped through the right of his cheek. "I have a lesson that should be starting."
He shrugged, "Your horse ran off, nothing you can do."
June went to speak, her head turning towards Fury before Harry looked down the gravel road towards the home– over a mile away like he had mentioned.
Her words got caught in her throat before she can respond, just putting the cigarette up to her lips before she licked her tongue over her bottom lip that had turned into a smile. June bites the inside of her cheek before she looks over Harry who's already moving away from her.
"What're you doing back here?" He asked her, his European accent ringing a bit different, "thought you moved to the city."
Her thoughts ran to the fact that he knew that much about her. She wondered if her dad had mentioned her before, or if he was just paying attention. Either way, her answer to him stayed true.
"I knew I wanted to work my way back here," June told him honestly, "I wanted to work back home. But I need to save some money."
Harry bit his lip as he held the reins of the horse, pulling his over just a bit to start back down the path. It was slow, but it was moving a bit. June knew she was late to her riding session, but she figured it would've been fine anyways– she wasn't going to let her students ride Fury at this point.
"You're young," Harry told her with a chuckle, as if he was trying to explain the world to her, "You've got to explore a bit before moving back home. How do you think I got here?"
June tucked some loose hair behind her ear, "How did you end up here, I mean? It's quite far."
"Five thousand miles, give or take." He tells her, walking alongside her now. They seem to be moving at a slower pace. Either way, Harry knew that he wanted to be next to her.
June took a last draw of her cigarette, throwing it on the gravel. "Way too far for me. I'd miss my family way too much."
Harry flicked the cigarette, the ashes falling a bit before he nodded a few times. "That's because you have a really great family," He looked ahead, chuckling a bit, which June caught before furrowing her brows. "I don't miss my family at all, truthfully. Not much to miss there. So, maybe I just don't get it."
June nodded a few times, understanding the implications and biting her lip at his words. There's silence in the air before she takes in a breath and pressed her lips together then, as if she's trying to find words to help alleviate a pressure that she added in. But, he speaks before she gets a chance to.
"I just think people maybe need to take a few more chances," He says, "Live a little more freely. What's the worst that can happen if you do what you want?"
"Well, most criminals live by that narrative," June tells him, which makes him laugh a little bit at her remarks before she looks at him with the blue eyes that he can't seem to fully grasp could be that color blue.
"Within reason." He adds, and he stops mid step before he watches as she turns to face him at his abrupt stop in the road.
June looks at him, a fluttering feeling in her stomach as his body moves, letting the leather reins go before he stops in front of her again. It's the proximity that sends her thoughts on a tailwind of what could happen next; the adrenaline pushes in her veins as she stares up at him. He's closer now than before, his head has dropped a bit so he can really look at her, but she's acknowledged that, pushing her chin up to make sure she can hear exactly what he's saying.
"Maybe it's the fact that I don't like playing by the rules, though." The smell of the tobacco was filling her nose as they stood so close. His eyes remained deferred from hers, watching the way that the lips and chin were pulling up, almost subconsciously.
"Seems a bit criminal, if you ask me." She teased, tilting her head a bit as she begged him to look at her.
"I mean," He chuckled, letting his fingers move up to her chin as he took it between them to steady her, "It would be criminal to let you beg any longer. Bit pathetic to watch."
"Not begging." She pushed back, pulling her chin away from his grip, which tightened his jaw. She noticed the way that her defiance made him react, which sped her breathing up.
"Tell your body that, sweets," He bit, "I could say anything, and you'll react to it."
He licked over his lips, watching as she tried her best to stay calm, to keep her breath under control. Her lips were pursed, her stance was trying to stand off a bit, but he could see right through her—he saw that she was trying her best to stand on her own but knew that she would fold right then and there.
It was the game that Harry liked, he liked watching how she would react to him when he spoke to her. She was young, practically ten years younger or so, he could assume—she was so impressionable and the fight for dominance was almost sweet. Harry ached as he watched her try to stand him down and his eyes moved to her lips before they drew up to her eyes, watching the ocean waves of blue.
June pulled away, suddenly. She gave him a smirk before she clicked her tongue to have Fury follow her down the road.
"You think you've got me figured out," She called, looking back over her shoulder. "Not going to work with me, cowboy."
Harry bit the inside of his cheek, watching her walk away. His eyes fell to the way that she walked, seeing the swing of her hips as a tactic to use against him. But, he did what he needed to do. He followed close behind, watching her every move—the silence in their walk back not lost on him.
"Something enticing?" June teased, noticing the way that his eyes had danced over her curves from behind. Harry's eyes lifted just a bit, settling in her eyes before he sent a wink her way.
The silence on the walk back to the barns felt good; it felt understood. It's why they both smiled to themselves, neither one seeing the other.
***
"You think I can really pull him?" June looked at Shelby, "He's older– I don't know, Shel."
"You aren't even seeing the way he looks at you," Shelby said to her friend, taking a swig of her beer. He's not taken his eyes off of her, and somehow June knows that deep inside of her, but she can't bring herself to look back at him. She's a bit timid like that; a sharp tongue when confronted, but a tail between her legs when she thinks of it.
The next night, June had gone out with her friend, Shelby, for a drink. It wasn't lost on her that the town was small. Most everyone knew each other, which made the Friday nights out on the town hard to avoid people you didn't want to see.
You really needed to want to be there, or you would be seen by someone you didn't want to see. June hadn't even thought of it when they went out, that she could possibly see him there. After their encounter yesterday morning, June had kept her distance. Not in a way that she felt was stand-offish, but in a way that felt like she was trying her best to let him come to her.
Dating and flirting weren't new to her, but the idea of playing this game scared her a bit. He wasn't new to this; they weren't trying to figure this out together like she had experienced in college. He was older than her, he had experience with this game.
It scared her a bit, because she didn't know how to handle herself in this type of situation. She wanted to come across as confident, but she knew that he had the opportunity to make her fold.
"You need to be drunker," Shelby stated, pushing her half-empty beer to her, watching as June wrapped her hands around the bottle. It was warm to the touch, not fresh in the slightest. "Let's go to the bar to get more."
June looked at her friend after downing the rest before she fully understood what that meant for her.
Shelby had gotten up, which made June follow her. The strawberry blonde realized without another second to spare that she had walked into the lion's den– eyes were on her as she approached the countertop bar.
One pair of eyes, specifically.
At first, she hadn't recognized him. Without the hat and the dirt-ridden t-shirt, she saw the way that the denim jacket hugged his back. The curls had a bit of bounce to them, and her mouth felt dry as she tried her best to divert her attention away.
But they were almost arm and arm and she had wondered if he would notice.
Of course he had. The scent of cherries and lime only made sense when his attention turned back towards a person who had brushed against him now. He had seen her across the room as soon as she came in with her short skirt and boots. He noticed the way that her waist dipped in with the form-fitting top and the slight curl to her hair.
He sat with his beer in his hand, a rowdy few friends were next to him as he kept his attention on her. June felt heat down her neck as she tried to ignore the staring but started to enjoy the feeling of being seen.
"Two whiskey sours," Shelby leaned across the bar to ask for before June looked at her with confusion, knowing that adding a bit of liquor in the mix would either make it better or worse—she didn't know. Her friend smirked at her, watching the bartender start to assemble their drinks.
June kept to herself for a moment before she heard a stealthy voice next to her. The jolt of her head towards him even surprised her as she licked over her lips at the way that he was looking at her.
"You following me, doll?"
June scoffed; her sharp tongue ready. "You don't think I have better things to do?" She quirked her eyebrow at him; feeling the closeness of them as she stood, and he sat on the barstool under the dim light of the grungy pub.
"No," He shook his head, taking a sip from his bottle before he turned to face her now. She was practically between his legs, his knees on either side of her as she stood closer to him than she thought. "I don't think you do."
He looked the same as he had yesterday morning; he was clean shaven on his cheeks, a bit of scruff on his lip and a twinkle in his eye that was undeniable among the green. A denim jacket covering his shoulders and tattooed arms that were on such display this morning. The hair sat longer on top of his head, just enough to add the definitive addition of chocolate curls.
June could barely look at him without her knees buckling at the bar top. But she took the drink from the bartender with confidence, trying to anchor herself.
"Well, you're wrong." June tells him, taking ahold of the cocktail before taking a sip and trying to play hard to get. A game she knew– a game she played far too often.
Harry watched the way she popped her hip, knowing she did it on purpose.
"I'm never wrong," He bit back, still playful. His eyes met June's, and she didn't dare look away. "So, try again."
June cleared her throat, standing against the bar as she let a breath out. What she hadn't anticipated was the way that his bent knee fell behind her own, pulling her closer between his legs at the busy bar.
June went to speak, a small gasp leaving her lips as she placed her hand on his shoulder as she lost a bit of balance. Her hair fell into his face as she felt herself push away. The smirk on his face only made her blush as she pushed off from him.
"Go on," He urged, "Try again."
She raised her eyebrows, noticing her hand still placed on his shoulder. "What if," She cleared her throat, "It's you who is following me?"
Harry took a sip of his beer, lazily, eyes staying on June as he shook his head softly.
" 'Course I am," He bit his lip, "Who wouldn't?"
His honesty came across, making her feel a bit speechless when she looked at him. She downed a good amount of the whiskey drink quickly, knowing that the quicker it went down, the quicker she'd feel it.
"Looks like what I said about criminal activity seems to be true," She let the straw of the drink rest on her tongue as she looked at him, "You're a bit no good."
"Never denied it," He downed a bit more of his drink before he raised his brow at her, "But you keep coming back, don't you?"
Her tongue rested on the straw, playing with it a little bit as she felt the flirtatious spirit running through her. The cat and the mouse were at their height, now.
"Just gathering all the facts on why I should stay away," She told him, pushing her hair back off of her shoulder. The small top only leaving little to the imagination; Harry tried to hold it together as he swallowed dryly.
"How's that working out for you?" He asked, his hand making its way to her hip as he pulled her a bit closer. June took a step, finding her balance as she stared at him for a moment. He knew the look on her face as he had seen that look a few times before.
A part of him felt the words deeper, which initiated him to reach for his wallet.
"Mind if you let me drive you home?" His voice was thick with a dry, hoarseness that only solidified her position backing into his lap.
June practically melted at his touch, his hand on her hip as she nodded a few times before turning towards him then.
"Don't think that should be a problem." She muttered over the music playing across the bar.
June's eyes found Shelby who was standing at the bar, just a few people over before she winked at them. She moved away, just so that Harry could stand on his feet as she watched the man throw a fifty down on the counter to cover the drinks.
"Drinking fifty dollars' worth and then driving me home?" Her attention turned towards the man as he gave her a lazy smile. "Feels a bit dangerous to get in the car with a drunk stranger."
"Feel like it's my job to pay for you too if I'm getting you to leave your friend to come spend time with me, hm?" Harry walked backwards a bit, reaching for her hand before they reached the door to the bar. "You looked like you were having a good time. But I got something to show you."
Her hand fit into his, her breathing escalating just a bit at the way that he maneuvered her grip, making his stronger instantly as he led them back to the Ford pickup he sport around town.
"I was having a good time," She tells him with a bit of a flirty essence, one that held a bit of attitude as far as he was concerned, "And now you're taking me from it. Wherever you're taking me must be pretty good."
Harry bit on his lip as he sniffles, scrunching his nose at her comment. Her comment only pressing his buttons.
"I'd apologize but I don't know if I'm sorry." He commented, cocking his head.
"You'll only have to apologize if I'm left disappointed–"
When they reached the blue pick-up, his hands instantly grabbed at her hips. They pushed her body into the iron to hold her captive against the side of the truck. It wasn't hard enough to hurt her, but hard enough to ground her. She hoped there'd be a small amount of pain as a reminder of the moment.
"You're not gonna question me, are you?" He asked her with the softest voice; the threat in his tone only heightened her senses as she flinched at the way he spoke.
The inside of her thighs fluttered at his growl of a voice. "N-No," June answered, "No, no, never."
His lips brushed against the side of her ear, pulling his body away from her just for a moment before he nodded and found the moment to understand her.
"Good girl," He praised, moving his hands upwards to her waist. The slim part of her torso melted into a perfect hourglass figure. Her hips were wide and held his sight, but his hands loved the feeling of the curve.
June's breath halted at the way that he held her– at first with a physical grip so tight, and then an invisible string of persistence.
The small pub rested just on the outskirts, in the mountains, but just far enough from the ranch. The radio played lightly; the windows were rolled down as the horizon line were just baring a bit of light.
Harry had driven the truck up to one of the horse barns that sat just close to June's guest house, where she had been staying. It was a bit further on the property, but she drove past it almost every day.
"What are we doing here?" She questioned him before he opened the door. He went to the other side to help her out, taking her hand as she jumped down. He had taken her waist in his hands to help her, the touch of him on her was enough to make her breathing hitch.
"Have something to show you, I told you." He said, taking her hand in his as he led her back up to the darkened barn. When they arrived at the open door, he flickered on a switch that gave the large space a bit of light.
When they both walked into the small barn, the only lights were overhead, the sound of the crickets chirping filled the silence. June followed Harry's lead before she noticed that they stopped at the stall at the end of the row, down closer to the tack room.
"Here we are," Harry nodded, leaning his arms on the side of the stall gate. When June turned towards the mother horse and baby that were laying on the ground before them. She felt her heart melt at the sight of the small, brown foal that had two white spots on the top of its forehead.
"Oh my god," She gasped, watching as Harry smiled at her surprise. "Aren't they the sweetest thing?"
"He was born this morning," Harry leaned against the gate, watching the two horses on the ground before he turned back to June. The mare simply in awe of the small baby, seemingly tired as she laid next to him. "Needs a name."
"The ranch has a history of naming them after the stars, you know," June tells him, walking over to the little foal. His legs tucked under him, two bright white spots perfectly in the middle of his forehead.
June leans down a bit, hesitant not to scare him. Her hand reaches out to pet the small foal before she runs over hand over the white spots.
"Well, mum is Forager of Stardust," He tells her, keeping against the gate with his arms crossed, "So, we'll keep it in the family."
June starts to giggle as she turns back to Harry, eyes wide, "Ziggy Stardust– hands down, has to be."
"Ziggy Stardust? Alright, then. Sounds like a perfect name to me." Harry questions with a laugh; his smile becoming a bit more than the typical lazy one he likes to sport. June noticed that the crinkles by his eyes were a bit more defined, her nods insinuating her answer.
June turned back to the little foal before watching as his dark brown eyes blinked a few times with the lashes so long and fluttered. Her heart was built from the small creatures around the farm, the life that had been put into this lifestyle.
It reminded her of the sweetness; the parts of her life that continued to only get better the older she got and the more she enjoyed the peacefulness of simplicity.
This was it– this was the simplicity she craved. The rebirth, the gentle touches that reminded her of what life really was all about. She loved watching the ranch run on its own, watching as it grew everyday with small details.
Harry had moved towards a bale of hay that sat in the corner, taking a seat on it as he leaned against the stable wall. He watched June nuzzling the foal before she turned her head towards him again. He gave her a tilted smirk, dimple pressing into his cheek as he watched the nurturing love that nestled out of her.
"Did you grow up on a farm?" She asked, looking back at him before standing up from her spot. She managed to make her way through the tall stable hay before taking a seat on the bale with him. The small spot was snug, but neither of them seemed to mind.
"I did," He nodded a few times, "But it was a lot different. Sheep and goat, mostly. England is also a bit flatter, so it was a lot easier to ride than it is here. But I just figured that this would be a bit of an adventure."
"Think you made a good choice?" June asked, crossing her arms as her legs settled straight out just like his.
Harry raised his brows before he felt that he couldn't stop himself from smiling all the sudden. He wanted to believe that the few beers had something to do with it, hours ago now, but he knew that it wasn't. His eyes were downcast as he started to nod a few times.
"The views here are incredible." He answered, looking up at her, "But the scenery around here is good, too."
June nodded a few times, sniffling.
Harry decided to return the question, looking back at her. "Do you think you made the right choice coming back home? Assuming you liked the city, I guess."
June shrugged her shoulders, knowing that being home was always difficult in some capacity. She loved her family, loved the ease of being able to go places and knowing exactly what to expect. Home seemed to be a place that was easily accessible to her, all the time. Her family would always bring her back—she always knew that she could lean on them without an issue or judgement of feeling pressured to leave.
"I think I made the right choice to come home and to do what feels easy right now," She nodded a few times, "I think coming home from college is scary because you're like," She shrugged, "You feel like you don't have a direction anymore. You're in school practically your whole life—it's all you know. And then to think that you could go somewhere else and live a new life after that. It's just a lot. They're letting me stay in the guesthouse until I can get my bearings."
Harry understood, to some degree. But he was the opposite—if it wasn't new, it wasn't exciting. He wanted to see new things and to not see the same view twice. It meant that you weren't settled, even though the idea of settling wasn't bad. It was just different.
"It's probably good to know that you have a space in the world somewhere," He agreed, settling a bit, "I understand that. I didn't go to college, but I get that you want to feel like you're... you. And you're not having to reintroduce yourself to a new place or new people."
"My family knows exactly who I am," She smiled, "And that's what I want right now."
That was the truth—June wanted to just stay here until she was able to get her own place, maybe down the road. She could have the best of both worlds—one day she'd be able to live on her own, but still be able to stay connected to the place that felt so close to her heart. Teaching riding lessons was her only income, but it helped pay her loans and aided in her weekend ventures with her friends, specifically Shelby.
There wasn't much more she could have wanted now. Happiness seemed to manifest itself in the little things.
But, of course, after the small incident with Fury yesterday morning, she didn't know that she would have been able to trust him. It felt that there was more she could do about it, but she knew that his outbursts had been due to her lack of maintaining his trust and boundaries. He was also just an asshole half the time, and it wasn't something that she could put up with if he continued.
June sighed a bit, thinking of it when she noticed that Harry had taken interest in her sudden displeasure.
"What's wrong?" He asked. She blinked a few times, watching as he seemed to understand that her sigh was of annoyance.
"Well, I'm not going to be able to give anymore lessons until I can get Fury figured out," She shook her head, watching the man as he listened to her quandary. "I have to get him straightened out or I'll have to get another horse ready just to train on, and work with Fury until then."
Harry bit the inside of his cheek as he let his eyes move to the side, seeing if he would get the reaction he was looking for.
"Bet you're a real good rider, huh?" He teased, poking his tongue into the side of his cheek as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Probably give good lessons, too."
June pulled her lips into her mouth to keep from the smirk that was approaching, but she rolled her eyes instead. "What a line."
"I'm just asking!" He lifted his hands in defense as he chuckled out a bit, "Was maybe looking into some lessons to help you out."
Their outstretched legs bumped into one another as she pulled at bent knee up to hug into her chest. "I charge a hefty fee."
Harry shrugged, running his hand through his hair. The unruly curls were a bit out of control as he sniffled gently at the way that the hay tickled his nose. "I'll pay up-front."
June shifted her jaw as she licked over her lips. It was a bit dangerous, this game that they were playing. But she had an idea in her brain that she was going to take his advice.
What was the worst that could happen?
She sat up, back straight. Her eyes were downcast as she looked over at him, then. He didn't know how to respond to her stare before he felt the way that she pushed her knee over his lap. Her hands steadily placing on his shoulder as he looked up at her with a smirk that said all of the words that she desperately needed to hear.
"Alright, then," She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, "Let me give you a lesson or two, cowboy." Her hips sank into his pelvis, pushing gently with the added pressure as she took a seat like he had inquired for.
Harry sat up a bit straighter, watching as she straightened up, too. Her skirt flowed over her thighs as he let his hands place on the outside of her hip for helping her balance. A smirk coated her blushing cheeks as she tucked her hair behind her ear in a nervous habit.
"I'm already learning so much," He teased her, waiting for her to make another move. She thought she may have a grasp on how to approach him but became nervous as she started to take charge. It was evident to him as she settled into his lap, but he loved the initiative.
They faced one another and she bit her lip at the way that he talked to her. He paid attention to her, let his hands get to know her before he pressed further.
"Dare you to kiss me, though." He said to her, watching as she gave him a look of confusion. She chuckled at him, as she shook her head, but he just smirked, "No one can pass up a dare."
She did exactly as he had dared, pressing down so their lips met. It was like finding water in the desert as she immediately pushed forward, needing more as soon as she got a taste. Her hips rolled at the feeling of his hand making its way to the back of her neck, almost like he was guiding her closer. He was showing her what she needed without words.
The kiss allowed him to press his tongue into her mouth which elicit a whimper from her, his cock straining underneath the jeans that she had been pressing on. He followed, letting his own whimper strain out at the thought of her pressed against him. The skirt not allowing anything between them except the panties he imagined she'd have on.
Deepening the kiss, he pulled her hips forward just enough that he was allowing her hips to ride into him. The coolness of his belt made her shiver, her thighs immediately reacting to the touch.
"You wanna let me take the reins?" He offered, his voice deep and raw as he felt the closeness of them. Her back arched into him, his words giving her a break as she nodded fervently.
"Please?" She asked, practically pleading.
It didn't take any longer before he threw his arm around her, picking her up into his lap as he found the grounding of his feet. Swiftly, he held her up on his waist as she wrapped her legs around his middle, holding on as they pressed their way through the barn.
The small tack closet next to the stable was the closest they got before he threw open the door and led them in.
Harry threw her on the table, letting her sit as he continued to let his lips fall over her again and again. With her help, his hands pulled the denim off of his arms and back, pieces of clothing seem to fall off easily.
He gently allowed his hand to move to the inside of her thigh, pressing down a bit to gauge her reaction.
Her skin was hot, his eyes were down as he guided his hand to the place that she needed him most.
"Please, please," She continued to plead, his ears ringing from the way that she needed. It was so innocent and cute, almost like she hadn't any idea how badly he could wreck her.
"Turn around." He demanded, pulling away just enough to give her room to move. When she didn't, all he saw was a deer in headlights, watching him for a moment like she didn't know what he was asking of her. She swallowed, licking over her lips as she got to her feet.
Her slow movement initiated him to grab her by the hips to turn her around quickly. His hand pressed on her back, pushing her to her elbows on the deck of the tack room.
"When was the last time you were fucked?"
Her throat was tight just at the words that left his mouth; her breathing racing as she anticipated the quickness of this. She had been waiting for it; hoping he'd understand she had been quietly asking for this.
"Been a while," She answered breathlessly, her legs pushed apart as he stood behind her. The flow of the skirt barely covered over her ass before he pushed it up to reveal it all. "N-Not that long."
His eyes grew three sizes larger as he took in the detail of the black lace that lay over her milky skin.
Harry pulled himself down, letting his knees sink to the ground. His eyes were level with the lace as he quickly let his fingers rest on the waistband, pulling them off of her and down her thighs.
She gasped at the feeling, his eyes never leaving.
"Goddamn," He commented, his thumb pressing softly into her. She jerked forward at the initial contact, eyes shutting as she leaned into his touch. "Knew it," He chuckled, "Knew you'd get yourself wet for me."
His thumb moved out slowly, her reaction exactly what he wanted. She pulled back with him, wanting to be filled– he knew exactly where he needed to get her.
"Needy," He berate, his words having a bit of edge. Her eyes flickered open as she gasped at the feeling of his hand slapping the harness of her skin. His thumb removed as he spanked her again, lurching her forward. "So fucking greedy."
Her knees trembled at the feeling, left untouched as he stood behind her. The sound of his belt made her eyes shut as he undid the button on his jeans and smirked at the way she settled underneath him.
"Don't mind that we don't have a condom, right?" He asked, his hand moving to the reddened spot on her skin that she ached took feel again. He smirked, knowing the words he would say would only make her a bit restless. "Can wait if you really need me to."
Her head turned around, her lips a bit raw from where she had been nibbling on it.
"No," She shook her head, "No– no. I'm safe, we're okay." She pleaded, and his smirked lifted at her neediness.
His hands pulled on her hips to arch just a bit for him. June quickly felt the teasing way his tip pressed against her soaked cunt, her hands turned white knuckled as she gripped tightly onto the wood. It was just the feeling alone– she hadn't even seen him, but her anticipation was high.
"Just letting you know," He pressed the tip right into the softness between her, giving her a sensation of euphoria just from how turned on she had been. She let out a moan, her eyes shutting. "We play by my rules. When I say down, you go down. When I say suck, you suck. No backtalking. I'm giving you the best fuck of your life, so you listen to me to get what I know you want. Got it?"
He hadn't even given her a reason to moan, her words caught in her throat as she nodded with. A subtle whimper— the strawberry blonde hair flinging over her shoulder as he moved it away. His lips found their home on the back of her neck, sucking gently at the skin.
"You're going to be such a good girl, though, aren't you? You would never disobey me, huh?" He cooed; his lips continued to ravish at her hair line as she threw her head back in an ache to feel the pleasure he was offering.
June's hips moved back gently, but his hands gripped at her before she could push herself onto him. The slight action gave him a sense of power; his hand smacking onto the curve of her.
The cracking sound familiar to one of a whip— she gasped at the feeling, her eyes closing shut just at the pain that radiated in such a burning sensation.
"Fuck," She whispered, knowing that she was simply dripping at the need. She had never been in a position of such need— she had never needed someone to give her what she needed in such a way that it brought tears to her eyes just to think about it. "I-I'm sorry— I—"
"I'm not." He stated, his breath hot on her neck. A coolness laying underneath—the metal of the cross hitting at her shoulder when he grabbed her hips towards him. When he pushed in, it took a fluid motion before they both moaned out in pleasure. It was a shock of intensity that Harry had truly never felt before.
Sure, he'd been in this position before— but like this? He had been with beautiful women, seen beautiful things. But the enticing scent of wildflowers and sweet vanilla only flourished as his nose brushed the softness of her shoulder.
Harry tried to keep his composure— trying to follow the red behind his eyes, but suddenly feeling the urge to cum at any moment which made him a bit nervous at the quick build-up. It was exceptionally better than he had expected; he had been more turned-on than he had thought.
His forehead rested on her shoulder blade; the small strap of her tank-top the only small detail that was between his forehead and her skin. Harry bit his lip slightly as he wondered when he would be ready to pull out to continue fucking her into an oblivion that would send her to the stars.
But he felt incredibly, incredibly close to the edge just at the initial feeling of her. He grunted in a bit of frustration as he shook his head to try to clear all the thoughts that had gathered there. The curls of his hair fell into his eyes as he shook his head. His hands kneaded into the fleshy skin that curved over the small skirt that still rested on her thighs. He had just pushed it up enough to give himself access to what he really needed.
Focus, he thought to himself.
"You are so goddamn tight," He watched as her back arched a bit at his words. Her chin turned to the side, just enough where he could now see her side profile. Her eyes were shut, mouth parted in a small, dainty way. "No one's fucked you in a while, have they, darling? You lie to me?"
Harry pulled himself out just a bit, watching where they connected as he felt himself slip back in. The tightness surrounding him made his eyes clamp shut. She felt incredible to him on every level that he couldn't think of anything else that moment.
It was dizzying.
"N-No, not like you— not like this," June muttered. The way that her hands gripped over the table in the tack room was almost pain to her fingertips. "You're so deep, fuck."
The sound of her voice elicits a response of his hips bucking into her, the rasp and grunt of June's voice painted a beautiful picture in his memory.
"You like me deep like that?" Harry licked over his lips, eyes moving down her body as he moved his leg to her thigh. "Pull this up on the table— go on," He urged, "it'll be good for you."
June felt the pat on her thigh, Harry's hands slid the remaining clothes down her legs to leave her completely free on the bottom. He pulled out for a moment to help her lift her leg, balancing herself as she felt suddenly empty without him filling her up.
Watching as she lifted her leg on the table, pushing herself up, Harry dropped to his knees as he took in what he saw. A certain hunger elicits his eyes as he grabbed onto the back of her thighs, spreading them apart. In an instant, she felt the spit on her already dripping cunt as his mouth attached to her almost like it was made for his lips to wrap around.
Her head drew back at the feeling of his mouth on her, the knot in her stomach was undoubtedly loosening as she felt the nudge of his tongue against her clit; the feeling of his nose gracing her. In the last twenty-four years, she had never been blessed with a partner that would have given her the opportunity to feel this way. She had never been with an older man before, either.
Maybe her innocence had been brushed away by the complete raging needs of his wandering hands.
Either way, she didn't know if she could get any better than this. The softness of his tongue with a stiff edge and control, the scruff of his upper lip taunting her as he spread her thighs further apart while his mouth took her from behind.
"Could ruin you in so many ways." Harry hummed, his tongue dripping from her arousal that coated it. "You want me to ruin you, doll?"
Her hair fell into her face as she nodded fervently, her hand pushing the locks away as she tried to catch a glimpse of him but leaned forward instead.
"Yes— I want you to ruin me, please." Her voice was a shy, timid tone but it held all of the power of her needs. He knew exactly what she needed, and he would gladly give her every bit of it.
Harry immediately felt the words go straight to his cock; the feeling of arousal only tempting him further and further. What was it about this girl that gave him such an issue? He hadn't always been so easy to please, but something about the way that she moved her hips, her small movements only made him want to be rougher.
A girl that didn't know what she wanted was always the best— it was the moment when she found exactly what she was looking for, but never knew how to express it that made him cum the hardest. Harry wanted to push every ounce of her until she was begging for it.
June lurched forward just a bit as he stood back up from his position, moving to enter her once again. The slickness of his spit mixed with her arousal created the perfect lubrication that guided his swiftly back into her.
Deeper this time— much deeper. He held onto her thighs, pushing his hips into her at a steadier rate as the soft hums of her whimpers started to go deeper and become significantly more adulterated versions of moans. He felt the way he slipped in and out of her like she had been made to pleasure him.
"Keep quiet," He urged, "You're going to get us into trouble if someone hears us."
"I want them to hear how good you're fucking me," She urged, a whimper coming out as he slowed his motions to tease her further. "Fucking me so good."
He leaned in a bit close to her ear, pulling back her neck as her body contorted to meet his needs. She was in his grasp, only moving in the way that he needed her to. His hand pulled at her throat; the coolness of his undone belt buckle was against her thigh as he pushed in completely to get as close to her as possible.
The moan that escaped her lips was cut short by the hand that cupped over her mouth, which only pushed her further.
"You're going to be quiet or I'm going to pull out, do you understand me?" His voice was deep, low, and cold as she shut her eyes to the sound of it. She felt the push of two of his fingers into her mouth, a surprise at first. "Brats get punished and I'm going to leave your little cunt wanting more if you don't listen."
June hadn't felt this way in years— there had never been a man to satisfy the needs that had been built up in this way. It really hadn't been that long since she hooked up with someone, but she had never felt this way in her entire life. She had never felt this full— this satisfied. It was extraordinarily rough— it was to the point where she hadn't ever known a pleasure like this before.
She couldn't have imagined this.
"You understand?" He says finally; she hadn't recognized that he had truly been waiting for a response before continuing. She had concluded that his pleasure was aided with being in charge. June couldn't understand the way that she became extremely, unbelievably pleasant for him. A few more thrusts pushed her to the brink of extraordinary delight before she dipped her head at the throbbing feeling between her legs.
"I understand— I do, I do, fuck– fuck." She whimpered out, unaware of the way that his thrusts had pushed on her enough that her muscles involuntarily ached as her orgasm became all the sudden wet— a solid gasp releasing her lips as she felt him pull out just at the feeling.
Harry's eyes darkened to a color of coal before he watched her inevitably drip down her own legs, the sight only causing his own mind to fall to a place of filth and absolute insanity. The gushing liquid was only a sight that he never thought he'd see like that– especially from her.
The innocent act was truly just an act.
"Jesus Christ," He commented under his breath, a bit taken by the sight. He choked back for a moment before he looks at the way he left her cunt dripping with need over the dark brown boots that had pushed her legs open. "So, fucking messy, aren't you?"
He watched the way that June's breathing heaved for a moment before he let his hand run down her spine— almost like she had been a bit surprised, like she hadn't expected her body to do anything like that.
Harry paused for a moment, watching to make sure that she was okay. Even in the rough moments, he watched to see if she seemed alright— his head tilting a bit as he hadn't heard anything else from her. A small coax from his hand on the small of back made him pause for a moment.
"Hey," He spoke quietly, "You're okay, doll, hm?"
June felt extremely exhausted already, almost like her body had started to fail her with how her legs trembled in this position. Her head turned back to look at him, a small nod coming from her without any words as she tried to find herself back in the moment.
It was an odd feeling in his chest as he started to feel an ache that went from extremely vile— filthy as he fucked this girl against the tack closet desk, to a sense of vulnerability that he made have started to push her a bit further than she was ready for. She didn't know it until her body was giving her pleasure that she hadn't felt before.
In an attempt to aid in some relief, especially to the legs that shook a bit more than a small foal, he pulled June back to a standing position. Her confusion on her face was obvious before Harry grabbed her by the waist to place her on the end of the desk instead. The skirt that had been pulled around her thighs had been pulled down completely.
"Get you off your legs so I can finish you off without you falling out on me," He told her with a sly smile, "Anyone ever made you feel this good?"
He watched the girl— completely wrecked with a face of pure softness. Her eyes were dazed, her attention stayed on him as he she shook her head. He felt better that she was conscious, even if he had taken practically everything from her.
"I can tell," He tells her softly before he tucks the hair out of her face, "Sorry you've been so deprived," Harry comments, "Would've done it for you sooner, if I would have known. Good thing I know now, hm? Won't let this happen again, angel, promise.
The feeling of their lips presses together as June grabs at her thigh so that Harry can move into the position between her legs once again. His tongue tastes like tobacco, a hint of the gum that he had been chewing.
Harry pressed the tip of his cock back into her to finish what he had started. His muscles ached in his abdomen as he felt himself tense at the feeling through a few more thrusts as he faced her now.
"Feels so, so good," June's words had whimpered out of her, a bit surprising at how quiet she had been and started to become even more so. "I-I'm— it's— fuck. Please, please more."
Harry's hands had made their way to her hips, making sure she had been pulled completely to the front of the desk so that he could feel her deeper. His vision moved down to the place where they connected; a hint of heat on the back of his neck as he thought of the moment more intrinsically.
"C'mon," He coaxed, their noses brush as he lets his forehead rest against hers. His breathing hitched for a moment as he felt her hand move to grab at his bicep. "C'mon, give me one more. You can do it."
His hips snapped further into her; June breathed into his mouth with a hot gasp as she screwed her eyes shut at the feeling of his cock nudging at a place that elicit such a firework of intensity that she hadn't ever felt before. It didn't matter how many college nights, bar hookups, serious relationships— none of those had the control that Harry had over her.
This was a feeling that he had crafted to ensure that the other person felt extraordinarily vulnerable and taken. She recognized that she wasn't the first, and certainly wouldn't be the last.
She was okay to just be his right now.
"Mm," She bit on her lip at the thought of what had caused her to be sent over the edge prior. She wanted to know what to ask for; she didn't know what she needed, but she was certainly going to try. "W-Want you to...to c-call me a slut," she said with a small voice, just heard between them. Her eyes had turned away from him with a sheepish-shy feeling. "Need it."
Harry paused for a moment before he let his hand move to underneath her chin, propping her up to look into his eyes. He needed her to say it to him— needed to see her embarrassed and shy, wanting him to treat her like a one-night rather than a forever.
"I only call it like it is," He tells her with a grin carved like a devil, "I just have to call you a slut so you drench my cock? Is that it?" He knew he had to push her further, get her to a place in her head where she felt sexy, where she felt loose to the point of unraveling. "Letting me fuck you in a little closet on your daddy's ranch— such a pretty little brat."
"Fuck me," She whined, knowing that her words would travel if she were any louder. "I-I'm gonna–"
"Do it." He coaxed.
Just at the sound of his words, he could feel the way that she unwound herself— simply, he didn't recognize that his words really did have the effect. His lips part as he watched her body fully shake with a convulsion the wetness coated his front with a small spray of her. Drenching his clothes and their boots as they sat with gasping breaths, he stared at the way that her pussy reacted to him, wondering how his words affected her so easily.
She was wrecked.
"That's such a good fucking girl," Harry told her softly, pressing himself back in, nodding fervently as he reassured her. Her cry was let out of the feeling of sensitivity that came after her explosive orgasm.
His hand placed on the back of her neck, pulling her forward a bit as he snapped his hips harder into her so that he could reach a place of pure euphoria. He couldn't begin to replay the actions of her pretended innocence, wondering if he would ever get to see anything like it agan. "Not going to last—fuck."
In an instant, his muscles tensed with an aching feeling that pushed his hips deeper into hers. Harry's lips placed themselves on her neck, kissing at the spots with a gentle softness—he knew what he had been in for in this intense, heated hook-up, but his cock had found a ferocious love for finishing inside of her all of the sudden.
It was all encompassing.
"Shit– shit." He hadn't even thought of the repercussions of not having the condom but needing to be careless for a few moments of time. He fell into her grip, holding onto her softly as he felt their breathing becoming less heavy.
June's legs were wrapped around his hips like an anchor, her head sat heavy on his shoulder as he mustered up the courage to pull away. He didn't really want to pull out completely, knowing it felt too good to let his cock feel the tight confines of her walls.
He slowly pulled his hips back, letting the mess fall out with him.
"Oh, fuck." He muttered under his breath, watching the display of a horribly sexual sight. One that someone would pay money to see. "I've never felt anything like that."
The way that she breathed against the wall, up on the table. Her eyes were shut as she held herself up and wondered if her choices had been worth it. She blinked a few times, almost like her body was now shutting down after the intensity of their passionate love affair.
Harry waited for her to respond to him, to look at him. He watched as her chest raised and lowered, knowing she was still breathing, but seemed to be missing from behind her eyes.
"Hey," He pulled her back from against the wall, whispering to her sweetly as he felt himself breathing a bit fast, too. "C'mon, doll, we should go clean up. I think we can sneak out the back."
Her movements felt heavy as Harry tried his best to bring her back to her feet. When he felt that she was steady enough, he let go of her to place his jeans and belt back into place, watching her shakily redress herself. The quietness of the small tack closet didn't hinder them, as Harry placed a kiss along her cheek before he let his hands fall on the doorknob.
"I'll go first and then you can follow me," He tells her, watching her nod in agreement. "Front door or back door?" He asks, in reference to the small guest house that June had been staying in. Her breathing had finally fallen into place. The desperation of need still on her eyes, which only excited him to get her back alone.
"Back." She tells him, quietly. Using her words wasn't so bad, but her legs became a bit unsteady, so she held onto the table behind her.
Before he opens the door, Harry gives her a quick once over. His eyes land on her lips before he steps forward to leave a kiss along her pout, letting her sink into him once again. The taste of her instantly feeds him as he groans into the feeling.
It was about time he found the feeling everyone told him he should be looking for. It was a myth for so long, but just in the way that he lips melted into his was enough to make to him blush. Her hands in his hair at the back of his neck, the feeling of her nails along his jaw settled his need for the moment before he pulled back and gave her another peck.
"Don't be too long," He told her, "Don't want to have to wrangle you back to me."
She smirked at his challenge as he opened the door to slip out. Her eyes shut at the way moved, closing the door behind him. A settled feeling in her chest only made her stumble back just a bit, letting herself rest on the table before she took in a solid breath.
Home had seemingly never felt so right.
#be so nice this is my first post on here#but it's dirty so lets go#cowboyrry#harry styles fanfic#harry fanfic#ff#harryff#one direction#harry styles one shot#hsos#harry styles x original character#cowboy smut#harry styles smut#harry smutty fanfic#one-shot#harry styles fluffy#wrangled
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Babe!! Can we get some Cheater H smut where he’s at the gym and he’s fucking Reader and then his wife comes in but he keeps going and she doesn’t notice? I need that so bad OMG
I Don’t Wanna Talk To You*
warnings: smut, cheating, dry humping, unprotected sex, praise, dumbification, lil bit of exhibitionism, creampie
pairings: cheater harry x reader
masterlist | harry styles masterlist
~
“Harry?” YN calls, closing his front door behind her as she steps out of her shoes and makes her way further inside. She takes a peek at every room inside on the first floor of the house, frowning when she doesn’t see him in any of them. His car is definitely in the driveway and his location definitely says he’s home, so she heads up to the bedroom to see if he’s there. She finds the bed unmade but his slippers are still there, so she’s left to believe he must be in the basement.
She quickly jogs quietly down the stairs, the sounds of grunts and pants leading her directly to where he is. She steps inside the open door of his home gym, and lo and behold, she finds Harry in all his glory, in the middle of a drop set of deadlifts. His muscles are on full display, his back flexing with each rep. He hasn’t noticed her yet, so she takes the time to admire, subconsciously squeezing her thighs together at the thought of him making those sounds because of her; straining above her the way he is now.
The grunts haven’t stopped, the noises only fuelling her crude thoughts about the man she’s been dating for a year now. It only continues for about three more minutes, and then she’s watching him as he walks over to the wall nearest him and places the dumbbells down, squatting down to take a sip of his water. Everything he does ignites a fire in her that’s unexplainable. Her thighs are beginning to ache with how hard she’s squeezing them together, and they damn near snap in half when he finally turns around and notices her, his eyes lighting up and a dimpled grin covering his face immediately.
His eyes trail over her body as he strides toward her, and her heart is beating so fast she thinks she’ll pass out right then. He doesn’t even try to hide it when his eyes linger on her chest before trailing down to her thighs and he’s smirking when he sees how tight she’s clenching them. The sight ignites something in him as well, his cock stirring slightly in the loose shorts he’d chosen to workout in, but he forces it down. When he reaches her he leans down and intentionally presses a sweet kiss to her lips, moving away before she can deepen it. It pulls a needy whine from her lips as she chases his with hers, and he gives in immediately, wrapping one hand around her throat as their lips meet again.
She’s shifting on her feet and moaning into the kiss, nearly melting into the floor when his tongue starts to explore her mouth. With his free hand he reaches for the front of her tube top and frees her breasts, making her groan as the cool air of the gym begins to harden them. He begins to roll one between his thumb and forefinger, separating their lips and pressing their foreheads together to gauge her reaction.
“M’glad you’re here, baby,” he coos, rubbing a thumb over the hardening bud. She smiles brightly at his words, thinking he’s finally going to give her what she’s literally craving right now, but he doesn’t. “Need a spot for these bench presses, my love. Can’t be getting stuck,” he finishes, a cheeky smile playing on his lips.
Her smile falters just a bit as he grabs her hand and leads her to where he’ll be working next, and then he’s climbing onto the bench. She’s just standing there sort of awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what he wants her to do. “Cmon, hop on top,” he teases, chuckling as her eyes go wide, but she does as he says.
As soon as she’s comfortable, he goes straight into his sets, and he can’t even lie and say that he doesn’t exaggerate his grunts a little bit because he knows what they do to her. The fact that she’s sat right atop his abs isn’t helping either, she can feel each and every strain of his muscles whenever he goes to push the bar back up. The thin grey biker shorts she’d worn today and forgone panties with don’t stand a chance with how wet she is, and when she feels his abs graze her swollen clit it takes everything in her not to cry out in pleasure.
Harry just acts as if he’s none the wiser, continuing his set like he doesn’t feel the small amount of wetness she’s left on his stomach, or the way she throbs each time his abs flex against her. It takes all of his restraint when he feels her give into the temptation and start to rock her hips down onto his abs, but he has absolutely none left when she just begins to moan shamelessly at the pleasure she’s experiencing.
He places the bar on the rack and moves his hands to her hips, helping her to move along his abdomen. Her moans have picked up so loudly that they’re echoing throughout the small room, and his cock has become rock hard in his shorts. All he can do is ignore the throbbing and watch YN as she’s in absolute bliss above him, her head now thrown back as she gets closer to her orgasm.
Deciding to make the experience even filthier than it already is, Harry speaks up. “Such a dirty girl,” he rasps, watching with hooded eyes as hers meet his. “So desperate f’me you’re just grinding on my tummy, poor thing. Just couldn’t wait, hm?” his teasing does nothing but urge her toward the edge, and she’s nodding with all her energy, unable to find the words to express what she’s feeling, but he knows. “I know, darling. Cum f’me. Cum all over me and I’ll give you what you need.”
Those words are all the encouragement she needed to cum, her hips stilling and her legs shaking slightly as her orgasm wracks her body, a loud cry of pleasure leaving her. She cums so hard tears form in her eyes and start to fall down her face as Harry helps her ride it out, gradually slowing the movement of her hips until she’s grounded.
She eventually comes around breathlessly, her chest heaving. Harry doesn’t waste another moment and he helps her off of him before he’s easing her onto the floor and on her back, climbing on top of her to bring their lips together. The angle provides him with the perfect angle to slot himself between her thighs and press his throbbing bulge against her, bucking his hips slightly at the feeling of her wetness beginning to leak onto his pants.
The action makes him graze her clit slightly, and she whines a bit in overstimulation before he’s pulling away to look down at her. He groans out loud and his cock twitches at the sight before him; her little grey shorts are absolutely drenched from her orgasm, the dark patch in the middle glistening in the fluorescent lighting of the gym.
He can’t help but bring his hands to her waistband and begin helping her out of them, and he becomes absolutely feral when he sees a string of her wetness connecting her to the shorts. Bringing them down past her ankles, he takes just a moment to admire how beautiful she is, and any other time he’d simply eat her out until she passed out, but he’s too desperate to feel her.
So he frees himself from his pants and immediately lines himself up with her, pressing his tip into her swollen pussy. Her eyes flutter closed at the stretch, and when he just slowly pushes in until their hips meet, she wraps her legs around his hips to press him as deep as he can go. They’re both already wrecked, so close to cumming and he hasn’t even started to fuck her properly. He gives her a bit to adjust before he pulls out and plunges back in just as deep as before, setting a punishing pace from the beginning.
YN’s moans and the sounds of their skin meeting are loud in his ears as the pace surprises her, and she can feel the light dusting of hair on his pubic bone grazing her clit, making the feeling that much better. Placing her hands on either sides of his head, she brings his lips to hers and moans against them as he literally fucks her like it’s their last time together. She can feel her orgasm burning deep in her belly, her back beginning to arch until they’re interrupted.
The sound of a phone ringing on the floor next to them disrupts the little bubble they've formed, and when Harry pulls away to look down at it, a dark smile takes over his features as he realizes it's his wife FaceTiming him. He flips it around to show YN and her eyes widen when she realizes he hasn't slowed down even a little bit. She goes to ask him if they should stop but he speaks up before she can, pressing himself inside of her as deep as he can, making her choke on a moan.
"If I answer this call, will you be a good girl for me and keep quiet until I finish?" he asks her, reaching up with the hand that's not holding his phone and pressing his thumb into her mouth, a satisfied hum coming from deep within his chest when she nods enthusiastically, immediately closing her mouth around the digit.
He's still pressed deep inside of her their hips flush as he swipes the button to answer, turning his camera off as the call begins to connect. The moment it does, he can't resist the urge to roll his eyes as he sees his wife sitting at the fanciest brunch restaurant in the city, sipping on what he knows is the start of her bottomless mimosas. He can't even imagine the hit their bank account has taken, because he knows she loves to go shopping with her friends to show off and they always end up at the expensive restaurant they reside at now.
"Harryyy baby. I miss youuu," she drawls, the way she says his name making his nose scrunch up in disgust as she gets closer to the camera and forms her lips into a pout. He resists the urge to gag and decides to take his mind off of it, pulling his thumb from YN's mouth and bringing it down to her swollen clit and pressing down firmly before he begins to rub slow circles right on the head.
He watches YN in pure adoration as she brings her lips into her mouth in an attempt to keep quiet, and he decides to make things even harder by pulling out of her until his tip is resting at her entrance before slamming back into her. He thinks he'll cum right then when her eyes roll back into her head and her hands flail around to find anything to ground herself, a small broken whimper leaving her lips from the sensation. He’s brought back to earth, though, by the annoying, high pitched sound that is his wife’s voice.
“Do you want to say hi to my friends, they really want to meet you someday. I was thinking maybe they could come over to the house today?” she questions, her voice hopeful. But Harry couldn’t care less, all he cares about is making YN cum again before he literally explodes inside of her without warning.
"No, I'm busy actually, about to eat. I'm gonna have to call you back when I'm done, okay?' he asks, not really waiting for an answer before he ends the call and tosses the phone to the side. He thinks he hears her call out an ‘I love you’ but he brushes it off quickly, picking up his pace and basking in the sound of YN's cry of relief at being able to moan as loudly as she wants. "Fuck, did so well for me," he praises, trying to stave off his orgasm until she cums, his mind turning to mush at how perfect she is and feels. She's just babbling wordlessly beneath him, the intensity of everything that's just happened only aiding in the building of her orgasm.
He’s fucking her so deep she feels like she can’t breathe, no thoughts in her head as he just continues to wreck her, his hands nearly bruising her hips with how tight he’s gripping them. He can feel her start to flutter around him a bit, making him groan at what’s to come.
“That’s, it, baby. Gonna cum for me?” he coos condescendingly, and all she can do is nod, making him chuckle at how wrecked she is beneath him. “My dumb little baby, hm? Can’t even think when I’ve got my cock in you,” he teases.
YN’s eyes are just squeezed shut at his words, her body going completely numb before tensing, her pussy locking down on him so tightly he struggles to move as her orgasm finally washes over her. The orgasm moves through her body in what feels like waves, small shocks causing her to twitch lightly. Seeing and feeling her in so much pleasure actually triggers Harry’s orgasm as well, and he buries himself so deep inside of her, his jaw dropped as a broken sob leaves his lips, his balls drawing up so tight he swears they’ll explode. Then the tension is leaving his body and he practically screams as cum starts to spurt from his reddened tip and deep into YN, painting her insides with his orgasm.
~
Thank you guys so much for reading! Feel free to leave any feedback you have, and as always, requests are open. Love you!!!
#harryistheonlyoneforme#harry styles fic#harry styles fic rec#harry styles smut#smut#harry styles#harry styles filth#harry related writings#dbf harry styles#dbf harry#cheater harry#cheater!harry#cheater h#cheater!h#cheater harry styles#cheater!harry styles#harry styles dirty imagine#harry styles dirty fanfiction#harry styles dirty one shot#smut blurb#blurb#request#anon#new fic
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Summary: Y/N gets invited onto The Late Late Show with James Corden and does a game of Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts with Harry.
I feel like this is a long beginning but just go with it because I promise it gets F I L T H Y.
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, praise kink, squirting, oral, fingering, unprotected sex, biting, F I L T H and some fluff
Master List
∘₊✧── 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎 ──✧₊∘
"As you all know, we have the wonderful and talented Mr. Harry Styles here with us tonight!" James reintroduces his guests and the audience claps and cheers, especially for Harry.
"Y/N. Are you ready?" One of the crew asks. I nod, "Oh, yes." She nods and gives a thumbs up to some people.
This is going to be so fun. I've known James for years and everyone knows that Harry and I are friends, but what they really don't know is that we're actually together.
We agreed to keep our relationship as private as we could, for now. I’m honesty surprised we have been able to, It's more intimate for us that way, but Harry has been acting.. weird? I don’t know. He’s asking if I’d ever want to go public and I’m not really opposed to it.
But anyway, I've asked James to keep it a secret that I'm coming on the show, so I've been labeled as the surprise guest for weeks now, so Harry is going to be put on the spot, and we're going to have to pretend that we're strictly 'just friends'.
"As you all know, I like to play a little game.." The crowd starts to cheer, "What? I haven't even told you the game yet!" James laughs, "We'll, since you all know what I'm about to say next, Harry." He motions for him to get to come over to him.
Harry gets up and pulls his suit jacket down as he walks over to him, "Yes, James." He lays an arm around his shoulder. James looks at him with a smile and starts to laugh, "Are you ready to either spill your guts or fill your guts?"
Harry covers his face and laughs, "Oh god. I knew it."
James laughs and motions to the table, "Why don't you go and have a seat over there, but don't touch anything!" Harry walks over to the table and has a seat.
"Now, Harry. You know how this game works correct?" James walks over and sits down across from Harry.
"The title is uh, pretty explanatory, James." Harry chuckles.
"Right, right. Of course it is." James rolls his eyes exaggeratedly and reads his cards, "Oh wait. One more thing before we get started."
"Okay." Harry nods.
"I won't be doing this challenge with you." James stands up and laughs, "Everybody, if you would please give a wonderful round of applause for the very talented and very beautiful Y/N Y/L/N!"
James claps and turns to welcome me onto the stage.
I walk out smiling as I wave my hands to the crowd. I walk over to give James a hug, "Hello, hello." He kisses my cheek, "Hello there, love. How are you?"
I nod, "I'm good, how are you?" He smiles, "I'm great. You look amazing by the way." I smile and wave to the crowd again.
Harry looks at James, "Now I see why you wouldn't tell me who the surprise guest was." He smiles and shakes his head.
I smile and walk over to greet Harry, keeping it very professional. He kisses my cheek, "Hello, darling." I walk around to take my seat and Harry gets up and helps me push my chair in.
"What a gentleman, yeah?" James motions towards Harry. Harry bats the air and pretends to be shy.
That man is not shy around me, let me tell you.
"Okay." I look down at the table and make a face, "Harry? You want to go first?" He shakes his head quickly while smiling, "No, all you."
I roll my eyes, "Fine." I bite my lip and tap my fingers on the table, anticipating Harry's first question for me.
"Y/N."
"Harry."
"On your phone.." he smirks and the crowd "oohs", "Calm down, I didn't even ask the question yet." He laughs and looks at me, "On your phone, what is the last thing you google searched?"
He leans back in his seat and watches me as I think.
I shake my head, "I don't.. I don't know."
Then it hits me, "Oh. Oh no. I can't- nope. It's embarrassing, we'll not.. no." I laugh and can feel my cheeks getting red.
"Y/N? Is it that bad?" James asks leaning in. I shake my head, "Not really.. just like.. personal?" I shrug, "Oh god that's not-" I look down at the glass in front of me, "What the hell is this James?"
Harry wags his finger at me, "Naughty, naughty." I roll my eyes and look at James, "Y/N.. that is blended up fish with plain yogurt."
I gag and shake my head, "I was-" I laugh and cover my face, I lean back and hold my arms out, "Vibrators. I was looking up vibrators. A girl has needs, people."
The crowd cheers for me as I look over at Harry and his brow cocks up as he smirks.
He clears his throat and looks up, "Definitely didn't expect that." He laughs, "Go." He nods towards me and I shake my head with a smile, "hmm."
"Y/N, what are you going to ask Harry?" James asks walking over and sitting down.
"Are there any songs on any of your albums that are about me?" I rest my elbows on the table, knowing damn well there is because he told me himself.
The crowd '0ohs' again and Harry shakes his head laughing, "Yeah, actually there's track.." he mumbles into his napkin, "On the-" he mumbles into his napkin again, "Album."
He shakes his head and tucks the fabric into his shirt. I laugh and clap my hands together, "You don't have to eat that. You can just tell us."
He looks up at me, to the crowd, at James then back at me, "Bull Penis.. sounds.. delightful." Harry shakes his head, "Can I just tell you one?"
I look at James and he looks at Harry shocked, "So there's more than one?"
Harry cuts a piece of the disgusting food off and locks eyes with me as he pulls it off with his teeth, "That's disgusting." He says leaning over to spit it into the garbage can.
He takes the napkin and wipes off his mouth, tongue and teeth. The crowd absolutely loses it with laughter. Harry turns to the crowd, "It's really not that complicated to figure out." He laughs.
I shrug, "Wow. Looks like I'll have to give your albums another listen." I smile and shake my head, "I'm nervous for the next one."
He laughs and nods towards me, "Rank my Movies." I lean my head back, "Damn it, Harry." I shake my head and spin the table, slowly looking at my options, "My policeman, Don't Worry Darling, and Dunkirk."
James scoffs and laughs, "My god that was fast."
Harry nods, "I honestly didn't expect you to answer." He laughs and claps for me, "Thank you."
I shrug, "I'm not eating bird saliva, sorry."
"Okay, y/n, you get the final question and Harry, you get the final spill or fill." James taps the table, "Let's do this. Drum roll please..”
The crowd drums their legs and I smirk slightly.
"Is it true, Mr. Styles." I lean forward a bit, "About what the magazines say?”
He leans in, “What do they say exactly?”
“That there's a possible future Mrs. Styles floating around with you?”
Harry's smirk turns into a slow smile as he quickly picks up on what I'm asking. He gives me a look and I nod and smile, "Go on. Tell us or enjoy those delicious-" I lean over and pick up the the card, "grasshoppers in ghost pepper sauce."
He look at the crowd and looks over at James, "I will say.." he picks up the napkin, "You know.." he laughs and shakes his head, "These grasshoppers don't look half bad."
I hide my smile behind my hands and watch as he teases everyone.
"So Harry." James says, "Is it spill or fill?"
Harry stares at the plate and then his eyes glance up at me. I nod once and my heart starts pounding.
"Spill."
The crowd goes absolutely insane and James leans in, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Alright, alright, alright." He waves his hand to get the crowd to quiet down.
I look over at the crowd and lean back in my seat, "Spill your guts, Styles." I smirk, "We're all dying to know."
He sighs, "I've had a girlfriend for four, going on five years now." James mouth drops and he looks over at me, "What?"
I laugh and shrug.
The crowd loses it again and Harry laughs and shakes his head, "You'll know who she is soon enough and that's all I'm giving you!" Harry stands up and throws the napkin down, “That’s all I’m giving you.” He walks away and turns around laughing.
God I love his laugh and smile.
I’m so in love with this man, it’s insane.
"Wow." James covers his mouth, "What on earth, y/n. You just got Harry to-" he stands up and walks over to him, "Come on, you have to tell us one thing. Do we know her?"
He smiles and nods, "Mhm."
"Wow. Unbelievable! There you have it ladies and gentleman. Mr. Harry styles and Y/N Y/L/N!"
I walk over and stand on the other side of James. I smile and wave to the crowd when they suddenly gasp and start screaming.
"What's going on?" I look at James and he quickly turns around and gasps with a smile, "Oh my god."
I turn around to see Harry down on one knee. I cover my mouth and my eyes instantly well up with tears, "Harry."
"It's y/n!?" James yells, "Oh. my. god." He gets the crowd to quiet down and he holds his card over his mouth, tears welling up in his eyes now, too.
I look back down at Harry and he smiles, "Y/N, you stuck by me these past, almost five years and I am forever grateful for you. You kept me going and stayed with me through the highs and lows of making music. I want you to be the one who continues to do that for me in ever single thing for the rest of my life. Will you please, do me the honor in marrying me?"
I don't even have to think about my answer, "Yes. Yes. Yes!" He hugs me as he stands up, lifting me off the ground. He spins me around and sets me down, immediately taking my hand to slide the ring on.
"What did we just witness here today? Magic. Absolute magic!" James hugs us both and congratulates us.
"What a way to end the show. They really had us going there for a while, didn't they?" He claps and thanks the crowd, "Goodnight!"
We walk backstage and I look up at Harry, "I had no idea you were going to do this, I thought we just talked about confirming that we were dating."
"We just did." He leans down and kisses me, "Now if you don't mind. I want to take my new fiancée and fuck her in my dressing room."
My cheeks get hot as Harry lays a hand on my back.
James stops us and congratulates us again.
"Thanks, mate." Harry pats his shoulder, "We're off to celebrate."
"Don't break anything please." James laughs with a sigh as we practically run into Harry’s dressing room.
He shuts and locks the door, peeling my dress from my body. He shrugs off his plaid jacket and starts to unbutton his shirt, "You just got so much sexier, Mrs. Styles."
He throws his shirt down and pushes his body against mine. His lips attack my lips before they quickly move down my neck.
He lifts me up and takes me over to the couch, setting me down and getting on his knees between mine.
He leans up and kisses down my chest. His hands kneading my boobs. I moan as he sucks and leaves a little trail of bite marks down to where he takes one of my nipple into his mouth.
I moan and arch my back as he holds it between his teeth and flicks it with his tongue.
"Harry." I moan tangling my fingers in his hair. He switches and does the same to my other boob, only this time he takes a hand and slides it down to my pussy.
His fingers slide up and down my slit teasingly.
"You're so fucking wet, baby. Fuck." He groans kissing and leaning another trail of bite marks down my stomach.
He slips two fingers in and I gasp, pulling his hair tighter. He moan as my action and kisses down my one thigh.
His fingers move in and out and I can hear how wet I am.
"You hear that baby? You hear how soaked you are for me?" He looks up at me and I look down at him, nodding as my eyes roll back, "Ye- yes, baby." I grip the couch and arch my back.
"I'm going to devour you. You're so fucking- Mm." He groans and dives in, licking and sucking my clit as he fucks me with his gorgeous hands.
I moan loudly and struggle to keep it together.
I can feel the pressure. I can feel myself getting ready to cum.
He quickly slips in another finger and curls them upward as he thrust them in and out.
I brings my arm up by my head and dig my nails into the back of the couch, "oh fuck!"
"That was fucking hot, sweetheart." He pulls out and lifts his hand up, liquid drips off and onto the floor. I smile shyly and shake my head.
"Don't be shy baby. You squirted all over me. I love when you do that to me." He smiles and goes right back to eating me out.
His tongue fucks my pussy. His nose rubs against my clit. His fingers squeeze my thighs. He sends me into absolute bliss, "H-ha-" I arch my back and my legs shake against his body.
He continues to eat me out until I'm panting.
"You taste so fucking good. Fuck. I can't get enough of my fiancée and her delicious fucking pussy." He goes back down and the pleasuring sensation makes my mind go blank.
All I can do is moan.
He pulls away and come up, his lips wet with my slick. He kisses me and I wrap an arm around his neck.
"Did that feel good, baby?" He kisses down my neck slowly, "Are you okay?" I nod and smile, "That was amazing."
He smile and kisses back up to my lips, "Want to continue?"
"Please." I whimper, "I need you."
He stands up and take the rest of his clothes off, gently positioning me on the couch, "You're so beautiful when you're fucked."
I smile and bite my lip as he pushes my leg up slowly, "You're so fucking-" He moans as he slips the head of his cock in, "Fucking amazing."
He pushes the rest of the way in, moaning as his hips hit my body. He reaches down and grabs my chin, his thumb running over my lips before I open and take his thumb in my mouth.
I grab his wrist and suck while I keep my eyes on his.
He starts to thrusts and my eyes flutter shut. My lips part as I let out a loud moan. He groans and slides his hand down to my throat.
My boobs bounce with each of his thrusts and I whimper as his hand tightens around my neck, "I love you so- fucking.. much." He leans down and kisses me, his hand still around my neck.
I moan quietly into his mouth and grab his hair, pulling as I feel myself about to cum again. I don't even had to say anything for Harry to know.
"Cum again baby, I know you can do it." He whispers into my ear, "I want to feel you cum as I fuck that tight little cunt of yours."
I moan and arch my back, "f-fuck." I whimper pulling his hair harder.
He moans and slips and arm under my back, holding me to him as he continues fucking me. I cling to him as much as I can, clenching around his cock as I cum again.
"Fuck, I want to cum so bad." He moans, "I-I." He lets out a loud moan and buries his face into my neck, "Fuck, y/n. You feel so, so good."
He continues to praise me, "You're taking me so, so well, baby."
"You feel so good around my cock."
"I love it when you cum for me."
I dig my nails into his back and practically scream out his name.
"That's it baby, let the studio know that you feel good."
He groans as I drag my nails up his back, "Fuck."
His thrusts get sloppy and he pushes as deep inside of me as he can go, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He pants, "Y/N?" He asks brushing hair out of my face.
"I'm still here." I smile and look at him. My eyes are heavy and my brain feels fuzzy. "You fucked me good, baby." I lay a hand on his cheek as he kisses me, “I love you so much.”
He smiles and kisses my forehead as he slowly pulls out. I wince slightly as he lays my leg down, "Sorry."
I shake my head, "No. no. That's a good kind of pain." He smirks slightly and kisses my hip, "We’ll go home and I'll run you a bath, give you some time to recover before we celebrate again." He winks.
I shake my head, "I'm giving you a blow job in the car on the way home."
He smirks and nods, "Fair enough."
——
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Part 2?
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Make You Mine* | TEASER
Summary: Harry and Y/N are FWB but when Y/N has plans with another man Harry gets extremely jealous.
Pairing: FWB!Harry x reader
Word count: 1.2K TEASER of a 5.2K Patreon Exclusive!
Warnings: Smut, sir kink, cum eating, just really hot ok.
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Ever since Y/N started this friends-with-benefits type of situation with her best friend Harry, they have been doing their best to keep their emotions in check. It's the same old story; it's fun and exciting, and then one or both of them ends up getting attached. They both know the deal, but it's too tempting to be together, and the sex is just so good.
They never agreed upon being exclusive but they also never explicitly told each other that they shouldn't have any other sexual partners. So now that Harry is busy working in the studio and therefore working most days of the week, he's starting to wonder if there's a chance Y/N might be seeing someone else.
He isn't stupid, he knows she has needs too, and he's sure she can find someone to take care of her whenever she needs it. The thought of her with someone else however is not a pleasant one. He isn't the jealous type, really, he's not. But still, the thought of her being with someone else makes him feel... strange.
He knows this isn't right, he's just being unreasonable. After all, they have never been officially exclusive, and she's allowed to fuck whoever she wants.
Harry's suspicions are confirmed when he texts Y/N to see if she's home tonight, he's desperate for some attention and hers is the only body he wants wrapped around him right now. He's met with an answer that is not quite what he's hoping for, and it makes him feel like he's just swallowed a bucket of cold water.
Y/N
Can't tonight, I've got plans.
Plans. So it is another man then. She has plans with someone, and the worst part is, she didn't even tell him. She's never done that before, always kept him in the loop. Harry's chest tightens and his stomach starts to do flips. It's not jealousy, he tells himself, but it sure as hell feels like it. He doesn't even know for sure, how the hell can he be so upset?
Harry
Plans huh? What's up?
He's trying his best to sound casual, but he's pretty sure he's failing. He's waiting for a text back, maybe she'll tell him. He doesn't have to wait long for an answer, which makes his heart sink even more.
Y/N
I don't know if I should tell you
Shit. She's really going to make him ask then. He takes a deep breath and decides to bite the bullet.
Harry
Is it a date then?
A little over a minute passes and his phone vibrates.
Y/N
Depends
Harry
On what?
Y/N
On you
Harry swallows, his heart beating in his throat. He's not sure how to answer, his emotions are running wild, and he's starting to feel angry. She's got the answers he's desperate for, and she won't just give them to him. He feels the rage boil inside him and he just wants to go out there and confront her.
Harry
Tell me Y/N
Y/N
You'll either like it or not
Harry
You know I'm not good at guessing games. Just tell me
Y/N
Okay, fine
It's not a date, but it is with a man
Harry
And what does that have to do with me?
His hands are shaking, his heart is beating like crazy, and yet his stomach feels like it's somehow filled with butterflies. He can't believe he's having this conversation, but he really should have seen this coming.
Y/N
I don't know. I mean, do I tell you about every single guy I see?
He feels his throat tighten, and his voice falters when he tries to form words.
Harry
So you've slept with him
He knows that's not the kind of answer she's looking for, but he can't help it. He's too caught up in his own emotions and thoughts, and he's suddenly desperate to hear the words come from her own mouth.
Y/N
No
Harry
But you're going to
She's not stupid, she must be able to tell what he's thinking. He's not going to play this game with her, he wants an answer.
Harry
Y/N?
A few seconds pass in silence, and Harry's heart rate rises.
Y/N
Maybe
The air feels as though it's leaving his body, and he has to steady himself against the kitchen counter. He didn't even realize he was holding his breath.
Harry
Oh okay
He can't bring himself to tell her to have fun. Instead, he just closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. He's feeling so many things, so many conflicting emotions, and he just doesn't know how to process them. He's trying his best to keep it together, but his insides feel like they're going to burst.
After a moment of silence, he opens his eyes again.
Y/N
Why?
His head is spinning. He wants to go and tell her he doesn't want her to have sex with anyone but him, but he knows he can't do that. The thought of her having sex with someone else is driving him insane, but he also doesn't want her to think that he owns her. He doesn't know what to do.
Harry
I don't know
He doesn't want to tell her about his feelings, it would make everything so much worse. He doesn't know if he can trust her enough to tell her the truth. After all, what if she tells him that she doesn't want to see him anymore, and they stop being friends? He knew starting this thing would lead to heartache, he just didn't think it would be on his side.
He decides not to tell her anything, and he locks his phone and sets it back on the counter. He heads to his room, but the anger and frustration inside him is just too much to be able to relax. He needs to let it out, somehow. He doesn't know how to deal with this.
He picks up his phone and starts typing out a text, but he erases it before he can send it. He can't tell her, he's just not ready. He's scared, and he doesn't want to lose her. He starts typing another message, but again he doesn't send it. He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know how to handle this.
He paces back and forth through his kitchen before making a decision. He picks up his keys and phone and walks out the door. He knows exactly where he's heading, and he can't wait to see her.
He drives there as fast as he can, and when he finally gets to her apartment, he doesn't even bother knocking on her door, he just uses the key she gave him and lets himself in. The lights are on, and she's standing in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in her hand.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Her voice is calm, but Harry can see her hands shake ever so slightly, and her eyes are wide as she looks at him. He's probably the last person she was expecting to show up here.
“I came to see you.” He says, his voice wavering as he tries to catch his breath.
“I can see that, but why?”
He walks over to her and wraps his arms around her, pulling her close and pressing his lips against hers. His hands find their way into her hair, and he presses her against the kitchen counter, his tongue pushing its way past her lips.
#smut#harry styles#fanfic#harry#styles#fanfiction#hot#one shot#imagine#writing#fwb#fwb!harry#best friends#best friend#besties#bestfriend!harry#bestfriend!au#jealous#jealous!harry#jealousrry#patreon#dirty imagine#harry x yn#harry x you#harryxyn#harryxyou#harryxreader#harry x reader
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Second Visit
the long-awaited heavily requested part two of Doctor's Orders
WC: 3.4k
warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, casual dominance, sexual content (fingering and f receiving oral sex), extremely inappropriate relationship with gynecologist (remember this is only fiction!)
finally decided to finish the draft that i loved but's been sitting in a google doc for like months. i really hope you guys enjoy it. i’m always a lover of feedback. 🤍🤍🤍
Your chest is pumping rapidly as you fight through your nerves. Last time you were in this exact seat, you had no idea what was to come. And now that you do, it’s all you can think about. Truthfully since then, it’s all you’ve been able to think about. Day and night your head replays the image, sounds, and the feeling of him. The phantom of his fingers deep inside you, hitting every spot that you hadn’t known existed, tortures you every time you can get a moment to yourself.
He’s your doctor. It even feels wrong to think about it, but something about it feeling wrong feels so damn right.
You return to the familiar feeling of picking at your fingers to quell your nerves as your head and your body fight each other for what you should do next. You came here on a mission, you wanted him. You needed him. There isn’t even anything wrong with you, realistically you shouldn’t even be here. But it felt like you were going through withdrawal symptoms. His touch was like a psychedelic drug. The kind of feeling that leaves you feeling like you’re seeing the world through a kaleidoscope exploding with colors and euphoria. And since you’ve felt it once, you don’t think you can ever go back.
The door opens and your heart drops, thinking it’s the lady coming out to call your name, but what you see is arguably much scarier.
Dr. Styles, looking down at his phone as he holds open the door for the nurse behind him with his left arm. He smiles and a small chuckle leaves his lips as he reads whatever is on his phone, the dimples that pop in his cheeks nearly make you melt and you try your best not to look at him before he notices you.
In all your nerves, you don’t realize your purse is slipping off of your lap. Before you can stop it, it tumbles off of your lap and falls to the floor with an audible crash. Your eyes fall shut in embarrassment and you open them just in time to see his head snap up in confusion and then soften in recognition.
You nearly hold your breath as a sly smile graces his face and he walks over to you. As soon as he reaches you, he kneels so he’s at eye level with your stomach, using your knee as support, and begins to pick up your bag and the things that fell out of it. Even just the simple touch of his hand on your knee makes a zip of electricity course through your body right to your core. You take in a shaky breath and the lightning strikes in the same place twice when he looks up at you to speak, “Hi honey…back so soon? Everything okay?” His hand remains on your knee as he speaks, still kneeling before you as his piercing green eyes bore into yours.
“I um…” Your brain fails to send the necessary signals to your mouth as you look at him and he frowns. He assumes that you might be embarrassed to talk about it in front of everyone else in the waiting room. His eyebrows furrow while the look in his eyes intensifies with concern, he clicks his tongue and pushes himself to stand up, “Let’s go talk in my office, sweetheart.”
It feels like you’re operating on auto-pilot as he walks the two of you to his office, his hand resting on the small of your back. Your mind swims with the things he could do to you when you get in there, you wonder if he’ll use his fingers again, or his mouth, maybe he’ll put you out of your misery and let you have all of him. You’d take anything that he gives you, you’re that desperate.
He sits you down on the chair in his office, and stands in front of you, maintaining that piercing eye contact. The deep, tingly feeling in your tummy swells when he offers you a comforting grin. “Wha’s the matter, honey. You know you can tell me, always.”
It’s a certain degree of embarrassing how much you’ve thought about him since you’ve last been here. And you aren’t an idiot, it occurred to you that maybe the only reason you were so hung up on him was that you missed somebody else’s touch in general. So you ventured out, tried to meet someone and have a casual hookup, you followed through, and they disappointed. Dr. Styles felt like he was on another level, completely in tune with your pleasure and what you needed. He played your body as if it were an instrument and he was the most talented musician in the world.
You don’t realize that you are lost in your thoughts until you hear the soft timbre of his voice again, “hm? Talk to me.”
You take a deep breath and try your absolute hardest not to stumble through your words, but they almost feel like poison as they leave your lips. Shyness has always been a considerable part of your nature and it doesn’t help that the most intimidating man in the world is standing in front of you, staring intensely at you with those deep green eyes. “It’s just um…ever since my last appointment, I’ve been like–I think–” you grumble in frustration and a wave of hot embarrassment tinges your cheeks. You look down at your worn fingers, breaking eye contact. You’re afraid that if you looked at him any longer you might die.
A small chuckle leaves his lips and he sighs softly. Somehow, your heart begins to beat impossibly faster when he leans off of his desk to approach you. You keep your head down, unable to look him in the eye again and you attempt to control your shaky breathing.
Your breath stutters and then stops when he hooks his index finger under your chin to regain your eye contact. Your eyes flutter closed briefly. God, you’ve missed that soft touch. It feels as if your body has finally come back to life after being dormant since you two have been apart. You have to fight back a sated sigh as his thumb begins to stroke your chin softly and you wish you dared to tell him to just fuck you already.
His fingers squeeze your chin with a deliberate grip and your eyes quickly open. You’ve noticed that he enjoys eye contact, thrives on it. He likes to see you get nervous for him, he likes to see you fall apart. He derives pleasure from the way you can barely look at him without breaking, so he forces you to break. And truth be told, you love it. You’d break for him any day.
“Look at me when we’re speaking, honey. Just breathe. Then be my good girl and use your words. You know I can’t help you unless you use that pretty mouth and talk to me, yeah?” He punctuates his words when his thumb brushes against your lip in delicate strokes. You honestly have no idea where he got the insane idea that you can even think, much less form words when he’s touching you like that.
When you just stare at him, with a pathetic longing look in your eyes, his fingers come down to squeeze your chin again, only this time much firmer, “Speak. Don’t make me ask you again, sweetheart.”
“S-sorry I just…I’ve missed you.” Is all you’re able to string together, it sounds incredibly stupid out loud but you have a feeling he knows exactly what you mean. His eyebrows raise before they relax back down and his grip on your chin loosens back to gentle.
“Oh baby, don’t apologize. You’ve missed me, hm? Mind telling me what exactly it is that you’ve missed?” his expression morphs into a teasing smirk as he rolls his lips inside his mouth. His eyes read like he knows exactly what you’ve missed, but he just wants to hear you say it.
His gaze is intense as he reads your expression carefully, analyzing you for any signs that you might not want what he thinks you want. He traces his gaze from your eyes to your mouth, the delicate pout you wear almost makes him melt right in the spot he stands in. From the moment he saw you he thought that you were one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen. It’s like all of your unique features perfectly coexist in a teasing harmony. It makes him weak.
It takes a lot out of you, but you’re able to tell him exactly what you missed. When he hears you, his jaw clenches, he maintains eye contact and you force yourself to keep looking no matter how much your anxiety is screaming at you to look away. For a second you wonder if you’ve done something wrong with the way he’s just looking at you, making no move to touch you and give you what you need, but that worry is melted away quickly when he speaks again.
He offers his hand out to you with a blank expression. Albeit confused, you place your hand in his. His dimples pop in his cheeks at your almost demure nature and he smirks softly, “Show me. Show me where it hurts, honey. Take my hand and show me.” His voice is smooth like toffee, filled with a syrupy heat that makes your panties pool.
His eyes migrate to the silky smooth skin of your thighs, suddenly grateful that you wore a skirt today so he could admire your beauty and have easy access to give you what he knows you’re so desperate for.
Tremors plague your hand as you slowly guide him to your throbbing core. The tension in the room is palpable, it’s so quiet that the only sounds in the room are Harry’s soft but strained breathing and your erratic breaths.
When his fingertips finally reach your clothed warmth he groans in appreciation. Truth be told, he missed you too. “Fuck, atta girl. So good for me, aren’t you?” Your eyes flutter closed in relief and you nod mindlessly. It’s incredible how he can completely remove any thoughts other than himself or his touch from your mind so easily. And he’s so casual about it too, so nonchalant about the way he pulverizes your brain and turns you into a brainless toy, just for him.
“How many times have you thought about this since the last time, honey? How many times were you knuckle deep in this needy cunt wishing that it was me instead? Tell me.” His fingers brush against your entrance and he slowly pushes two fingers in, pulsing them against your spot as soon as he finds it just to see you shudder. The gruffness of his voice accompanied by the gentle mocking tone makes your brain melt even further, your eyes roll back and you hear him chuckle at your lack of response.
“Mm, honey.” He mocks. “Already? S’already too much for you, baby?” you can feel him slipping his fingers out as he speaks, and the utter dread you feel knowing that the empty feeling you’ve been plagued with is going to come back makes you want to cry, and you know how truly pathetic that is, but you can’t find it in yourself to really care. He pulls his fingers out gently, bringing them up to his mouth to wrap his lips around them and suck needily.
“N-no no, please. Please?” you’re too shy to vocalize exactly what you’re begging for, but you know he knows. Harry always knows exactly what you need.
“See tha’s your problem. You’re not too keen on using your words. And we’re gonna fix that right now.” Without much of a warning, his fingers are back inside you. You choke on a harsh gasp that melts right into a moan when he begins to fuck you relentlessly with them, targetting your spot and ruining you from the inside out. His other hand comes into play when he places two fingers on your clit and rubs it in tantalizing circles.
Harry’s knees land on the floor when his face becomes level with your cunt, he leans in and lets his eyes flutter closed as if he’s savoring the smell of you, “I need to taste you, baby. You smell so fuckin’ good.”
A slew of rushed and needy pleas leave your mouth as you stumble over whiney moans, “please, Doct—” his eyes snap up to meet your gaze, and his eyebrows furrow in disapproval, “Harry. Please, Harry.”
The tone of your voice when you say his name sends a zip of electricity down to his confined cock and a needy moan of appreciation leaves his lips as they finally make contact with your core, planting a searing kiss at your entrance.
He groans like he’s relieved, like he’s finally getting what he’s been starving for for so long. You can’t help the way that feeds your ego. He’s been wanting you, needing you, yearning for you. “Tastes so good, baby. D’you know how good you taste?” he whispers.
“Speak.” His other hand plants a small tap on your thigh, not hard enough to really hurt, but intentional enough to serve as a warning.
“N-no.” You mumble.
“No?” you almost want to cry again as he pulls his fingers out and that dreaded empty feeling returns. His eyes are locked on how wet you’ve got his fingers like he’s in a trance and you swear you almost hear him sigh in contentment. He snaps out of his reverie and looks up at you, when he sees a pout he shushes you softly and brings his fingers up to your lips. He taps them there once before you part them like the good girl he knows you are. His fingers slowly enter your mouth and you suck softly on them almost as if it’s out of instinct, “atta girl” he praises lowly.
“See? So good.” He starts to nod and like his brainless toy, you nod with him. Taking in every cue of his praise that you can grasp.
You don’t even realize his fingers are inching back down to your core until a gasp rips through your throat and they’re inside you again, his mouth back on your clit like it never left. He’s greedy as he devours you. He drinks you in and takes you like he needs it to breathe. Honestly, you’re not even sure he is breathing right now. But he doesn’t seem to care, he just keeps going, keeps flicking his tongue softly on your clit and fucking his tongue into you, holding your hip with one hand to make sure that you can’t get away.
And last time, when it was just his fingers, it felt perfect. He pushed you just enough for you the feel that mind-breaking bliss that you’ve been chasing since your last visit. But now, with his perfect tongue and his perfect fingers making you feel so fucking perfect. It’s almost too much.
“Fuck, Harry. S’too–too much.”
“Mm-mm” He groans disapprovingly, “I know baby, I know it feels a little too good honey but you can take it. I know you can take it.”
He starts to go harder as if you’re not about to explode and the sounds that leave your lips should make you feel embarrassed, but with every stroke of his fingers and his tongue. All thoughts of reservation are gone, and you just want to lose yourself in him.
“Squeezin’ me so tight, honey. Gonna come for me? Been working so hard for it baby. Give me what I deserve. Give yourself what you deserve. Come on.” he rambles on and on as he pushes you to your peak, not offering you any kind of break from the way he’s ruining you with his fingers and his tongue. You’d think that he was the one getting head the way he was moaning against your core, the vibrations only increase the pleasure tenfold and you start to tremble through the sensations.
And when it hits you, it hits you. You shake in an almost violent way, so much so that he has to manuver his hands to hold you properly so that you don’t collapse onto the floor. His tongue parts from you so he can stand up and he lets his fingers pulse inside you to help you ride out the intense wave of pleasure that has needy whines and pathetic whimpers leaving your throat, “atta fuckin’ girl. So good for me. You’re so beautiful.” he whispers out a bunch of sweet nothings as he leaves soft kisses all over any part of exposed skin that he can find, leaving the residue of your pleasure in his wake.
You feel like you’re floating, like you’re laying on a bed of clouds and all you can comprehend is the pleasure still coursing through your veins, Harry’s soft voice, Harry’s soft kisses. It’s only now that you realize how much trouble you’re truly in, you don’t think you can go without this. It just gets better every time.
“Sweet just like honey. My honey, so fucking beautiful.” He praises. A sated smile graces your face and for a couple of moments, you forget where you are. You forget that he’s your doctor and you’re his patient and you let yourself live in the fantasy where Harry is yours and you get to come home to those hauntingly beautiful green eyes every night.
It dawns on you that this could very well be the last time, so you decide you’d like to make it count.
“Harry.” you mumble, bringing your hands up to tangle in his hair which he groans at, he closes his eyes and smiles, his head following the movement of your hands.
“Mm, yes honey?”
You really cannot chicken out now. You know that if you do you’re going to regret it. You’re never going to forgive yourself for how you had the opportunity to fuck this gorgeous man and passed it up to live the rest of your life wondering how it would’ve felt.
So no matter how hard it is for you to say, you force it out.
“Fuck me. Please.”
You almost regret it when it leaves your lips at the way he freezes up and immediately meets your pleading gaze. And then he smiles, which morphs into a teasing smirk, and you think you’ve got him, that is until he opens his mouth.
“Sweet girl. My job is to take care of you. And I did, yeah?” Your heart stings a little at the rejection but you nod nonetheless, eager to please him, “don’t need you doing me any favors, honey.
Your brows furrow at this, a favor? In what world would him fucking you be doing him a favor. If you had any less dignity you’d get on your knees right now and beg and plead for him until he gave you what you so desperately craved.
“S’not a favor. I want it….so much.” you whisper that last part. He sees your needy pout and he mirrors your expression in an almost condescending way.
“Are you telling me I haven’t taken care of you right, honey? Do you need more? Is that it? Doctor Styles need a lesson on how to treat his girl proper?” Theres a teasing lilt to his voice as he speaks, a dimple popping in his cheeks as he smirks and awaits your answer. You nod and he tsks softly, a gentle reminder for you to speak.
“No. You haven’t and I really really need more.”
“Hm. Tell you what. I’m not fucking you for the first time in my office. Ask a guy out to dinner first.” He watches your face as the small quip lands and a small chuckle leaves his lips as you roll your eyes, “but…I can pay my favorite patient a little house visit, and we can go from there.”
His squeezes your hips with firm hands and drops his head into your neck, sucking a soft mark on the exposed skin, his hips shift against yours softly and a shaky breath leaves his occupied lips, “Can’t wait. God only knows how much I need you.” he whispers the last sentence as if he’s scared to say them any louder and your eyes flutter closed at the unspoken promise of how he’s going to take care of you again, and properly this time.
He taps your hips once and leaves one last kiss on your skin, “I’ll see you then. Drive safe, looking forward to your next appointment, honey.”
#harry styles fic#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles smut#harry styles blurb#harry smut#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagines#harry styles dirty imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic rec
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Shatter my soul
Summary : Harry has been suffering from an addiction and y/n decides to take time for herself or based on this ask
Pairing: rockstarboyfried!Harry x reader!y/n
Warnings: Angst
A/n: this piece turned so much better than I hoped for.
My masterlist
When they decided to take time for themselves harry and y/n were in a rough spot with not only their 11 years long relationship but their entire life.
After being falsely accused and getting fired from her dream job, gave up any and all hope y/n had as she came home to her love only to find him passed out in the middle of the living room.
His cocaine addiction was getting out of hand so much that he almost died of overdose saved by y/n who decided to come home early for some reason.He swore to never touch that stuff again but there he was high off his mind as he mumbles incoherently lying on the floor a week later.
The next day after getting him sober y/n decided it was best for them to take a break to figure out themselves and their life as she can't stand by him hurting himself like that. Harry had his issues, stress eating him alive at every wake hour ,he decides it was better if he wasn't in his own mind. The cocaine he could easily get his hands on was just a massive perk for him.
It had been a month and half. Y/n got a job at a restaurant and works as a bartender at night. She moved back to her old appartment after their break up and had been doing well on her own. She missed harry a lot even though their good days were well past months she still loved him, still wanted to help him and show him that she was there for him no matter what. She just wished he was doing better too. After their first week of breakup harry had called her high as he mumbled how much he missed her and promised to be better she just hopes he kept his promise.
It was a month later when y/n was at her favourite arcade bar with her friends. The place was a little loud with drunk men drinking beers and shouting at the screens.
They were seated in a booth after a good round of beers and fun. She was mindlessly talking with her friend klara when the bartender calls her name.
Y/n walks to the bar and the bartender points to the payphone at the corner of the room.
They still got payphones
Y/n thinks to herself as she brings the phone to her ears. The first thing she hears is a sob which sends her into alert. "Hello?" She questions and the person on the other line replies "Baby, it's me.." he sobs out making y/n quiet as he continues "I'm getting sober. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do but I'd do anything for you baby. Just want you back, want to love on you like you deserve" he says breathing hard as y/n finds her words.
"I'm so happy to hear that H. That's what I wanted for you." Y/n says a smile breaking on her face as she tries to calm him down but he doesn't he keeps crying which makes y/n a little scared because it would've been really hard for him to be doing this alone.
Y/n should've struck by him, isn't that what their relationship should have meant. She feels incredibly guilty for walking away when things got worse but she did it wishing for the best and maybe it kinda did work out in the end and now all she wanted was to be with him and show him how much she appreciates him doing this for her.
"I'm gonna be there okay? I'm so proud of you baby" y/n says ready to hang up the phone but harry breaths out before she could "No, no i....you can't....I want you to but" y/n cuts him off in worry "what's going on H?"
"I wrote you a letter"he says and the other end is quiet as he continues.
"I wrote it so I could get everything out. I think?" He sounded so unsure his voice raspier than usual. " It should be in your apartment" he adds and y/n says she would read it and come by his place before hanging up the phone.
She bids goodbye to her friends after explaining them about the situation and then waving her off with a concerned look on their face as y/n walks back to her apartment. She goes through all her mail and finds the one harry had sent. Her name and address on the envelope.
She opens it and it had two sheets folded inside it. She didn't know what to expect as she reads through it.
My love,
Today has been particularly hard without you by my side. My manager has been pressing me for the next album but how could I think about anything but you. It had been 8 weeks since I last heard your voice and I never knew how much it filled my life untill I couldn't hear it anymore and I think maybe that's what made me want to give up the drugs even if it feels like I'm drowning. I'd do it for you.
I still remember the tears in your eyes when you told me about you ex and how mad it made me. I wanted to bury him alive for hurting you like that. I never wanted to infect any kind of pain in you. I swore I never would when I saw the lack of trust in your eyes.
It killed me to see the smile on your face slowly fading away because of me. I wanted to hold you close and tell you I'd be back. We'll get all of the good times we had together back because that was what you deserved. But I couldn't save myself not for me but for you because you are everything i have left. The only person who stood by me through it all and maybe that's what made me realise I was nothing without when you left.
I was always honest with you even when I was out of my mind i tried to explain what I was feeling. I know you blamed yourself that you couldn't help me but this was my own battle and you were the warrior in the front ready to kill anyone even though you didn't have to. You were always there for me and I'm really sorry if I wasn't baby. Because
You deserve better than that.
You deserve someone who would be there for you.
You deserve someone who would stay true to their promises.
You deserve someone who would stay good for you.
You deserve better than me.
You deserve every happiness in this world.
She is at the end of the page her soul shattered with each word when a knock on the door pulls her out. She has a few tears falling down her cheeks. She wips them off before opening the door to find her close friend klara.
"Hey , what ar-" y/n is cut off as klara bursts "I need to tell you something"
"Oh okay, come on in" y/n opens the door wider to let her in but klara shakes her head as she continues "No, I just need to tell you this....i" she's breathless and y/n patiently waits for her to continue.
"I slept with harry" she says after a few deafening seconds which stretches to minutes after the words are out.
"It was stupid and I was drunk and it just happened. We were both out of our minds and we didn't know what was happening. I'm really sorry y/n. I didn't mean for it to happen. I'm sorry"
Y/n is still as she listens to her ramble. All of y/n's friends hated harry something about him not treating her right while he was the total opposite. She never knew why that was but to hear her bestfriend had slept with her boyfriend of years cut deep into her poor heart and the stabs just kept coming.
"It happened a few months ago and I couldn't stop myself from going back. I didn't mean for it to happen y/n you have to believe me" klara begs her eyes welled up with tears.
Y/n couldn't stop herself from thinking how much of a fool she was for thinking all those nail marks on his shoulder, love bites on his jaw and chest were from her when she knew it wasn't. The woman's perfumes he used to smell like made her realise it wasn't just Klara. And one thought kept haunting her mind as she stands on her doorway.
Had she really been that delusional ?
A/n: I think I just broke my own heart 😭. Who wants a part 2?
Read part 2 here
Check out my masterlist if you are interested
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#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#writer#harry styles smut#romance#scenarios#liam payne#louis tomilson#niall horan#one direction#harry styles smile#harry smut#harrys house#harry styles reader insert#harry styles x reader#harry styles dirty one shot#harry styles hair#harry styles writing#yn#harry x y/n#ceo
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hiii just wanted to say i love ur posts so much. ur so good at writing pls never stop😫 i just finished reading punk 57 and the whole “tell me something true” line has me in a CHOKEHOLD. pls pls pls write about assholery being cold and distant with y/n out of nowhere even though they’re friends. can the reader be fem and have bunny as a nickname too? it’s been on my miiind and i just know you’ll write it to perfection <33
i fucking ADORE this suggestion sm. whoever you are, message me pls bc i wanna rack your brain for more lmao
lmk if you wanna be tagged in part 2 when—if—it comes out <3 i hope y’all enjoy this part though bc it’s truly one of my favourites so far.
i recommend listening to these two songs while reading: wet dream - wetleg, desire - meg myers
•••
dirty dancing. pt1
word count: 4.4k-ish
disc. nsfw content ahead. mdni. brief coke mention—in passing, includes fem! reader n harry styles, bold ass language, kinda slow burn but not really, some sexy dancing ig n aaaangst. enjoy my whores <3
•••
Things have been weird with Harry for a while now. You’re not exactly sure how or why the rift even started, but it did. And it’s only been getting worse.
You’ve been friends for what—two years now? Never too close, but close enough to be able to communicate about any issues you’ve had with each other. You and Harry don’t really argue, he’s not the confrontational type. Not with you, anyway. And not when he’s sober.
You aren’t the biggest fan of confrontation either. When things get too heated or overwhelming, you cry. It embarrasses you—being unable to handle your emotions. You know that you’re only human, and you’d never judge someone else for crying in the middle of an argument, but because it’s you, because you know yourself so well, you judge yourself over it. Weird pattern, but hey, it’s real.
Right now, you’re out at a bar with your friends—the same group you’ve been hanging around since high school. Mitch and Sarah have been highschool sweethearts for as long as you can remember, they’re like the parents of the group. The cool parents. The parents everyone secretly wishes they could have. Niall and Lewis are attached at the hip, too—platonically. Been best friends since the day they met.
You’re the closest with Niall since you’ve been living with him through college, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You have other girlfriends but they’re not as close to you as Niall and Sarah are. Sarah’s like a diamond you’ve always loved. They all are. They’ve always been by your side when you needed them—Harry included. You got lucky, sure. Not everybody has the luxury of picking the good ones before college and life gets in the way.
The bar is slowly coming to life. People who came for a meal are leaving, and people in the mood for a night of drinking and dancing are all piling in. You’re excited. It’s been way too long since you’ve let loose. You’ve been too stumped with work and college lately, you’ve barely had any time to breathe without someone breathing right there with you. And of course, you enjoy the company of others. But when you have to be sober for it all? Eh.
Harry’s similar to you in that sense. He loves socialising. Absolutely adores it. He’s an extrovert. But after weeks of constant company, he gets burnt out. The only thing that helps toughen the blow is alcohol. Or coke, but he’s stopped that for a while now.
You prop your elbows up on the edge of the bar and lean against it, looking around for the bartender. He has his back to you, mixing someone else’s drink. You clear your throat and he turns his head to the side, catching sight of you and nodding his head to let you know he’ll be a moment. You nod back and wait, turning to face your friends.
“Anyone wanna shot with me?” You arch a brow at your five friends, and they all smirk and nod their heads. Harry included. “We all good for a vodka?”
Everyone nods a second time in response, and you turn back to face the bartender.
“What can I do for you, gorgeous?” He shoots you a warm smile.
“Five shots of vodka, please.” You smile back at him and he nods.
“Straight?”
“No, gay,” You murmur a witty reply and he laughs, beginning to fill five shot glasses for you. You swear you can hear Harry coughing back a laugh from behind you too, but you don’t pay him any attention.
You double tap your phone’s off switch, activating the apple pay, and you hold it up to pay for your drinks.
“No need, beautiful,” The bartender holds his hand up, “This round’s on me.”
You shrug, exhaling dramatically, “I won’t try and convince you to let me pay.”
“I wouldn’t let you try.” The attractive bartender plays along, smirking at you.
You mouth a quick thank you to him and he gives you one final wink before turning his attention to the small group of girls next to you, catering to them now. You grab the shot glasses off the counter and hand them out to everyone, and you all hold them up and clink them together before downing them in seconds.
“Fuck,” Sarah sticks her tongue out as if that’s going to help the taste in her mouth, “Never gets easier does it?”
“Doesn’t need to,” Niall grins proudly, setting his shot glass down on the counter, “You’re just weak.”
“Yeah we fuckin’ get it, you’re an Irish heavyweight. We should all bow down at your feet, you’re a king and we’re peasants who can’t handle a measly shot.” Lewis rolls his eyes and pretends to worship him.
Niall frowns in confusion, “Who you calling a heavyweight?”
Harry snorts at the two men bickering. They’re like two peas in a pod, and typically, people who are so close tend to argue every now and then.
The group has that dynamic. Sarah and Mitch, Niall and Lewis, you and Harry? You’re not sure if you and Harry count. You’re not as close as the others. You wouldn’t call him a best friend. A friend, yes. A good friend? That’s pushing it, but still, yes. A best friend? No.
It’s not that you wouldn’t like to be closer. You’ve just never really been given the chance. Harry’s always kept a safe distance from you. You’ve hardly ever spent time alone, always speaking and engaging with each other the most when others are around to witness it. Sure, a part of you wishes that Harry would pay you more attention, but the other part of you doesn’t think he deserves it. If he wanted to, he would, right?
“And aren’t you Irish too?” Niall questions Lewis, continuing on with their unserious bickering.
“Yeah like a third,” Lewis shrugs, “From my dad’s side, but you already knew th—stop deflecting. Y/N, tell him to stop deflecting from how much of a cock he is.” He points towards you and tries to get you involved.
You giggle and shrug your shoulders, “You are a bit of a cock sometimes, Ni.”
“Both of you can suck me, honestly. I’m fuckin’ great.” Niall flicks his hair dramatically and you and Lewis snicker.
“I’m with Niall,” Harry lightly nudges Niall’s chest with his elbow, joining in on the joke, “Both of you can suck him.”
“You fucking weirdos,” Mitch shakes his head at the lot of you, not surprised in the slightest by your antics, “Miss Jones and I are gonna go dance, you lot can either keep bickering or come join us. Choice is yours.”
With that, they both head for the dance floor together, holding their hands in the air and laughing.
“I’m joining those twats,” Lewis gestures to them, looking at the rest of you, “You three game?”
Niall nods, “Course. Harry, Y/N?”
“I’ll be there in a bit,” You nod towards the bar, “I feel like some more drinks.”
Everyone’s attention shifts to Harry. He clears his throat as he thinks for a moment, “Yeah, me too. Be there in a bit.”
Lewis and Niall both nod at Harry and beeline for the dance floor, already beginning to bicker again on the way. You giggle at the sight of them and shake your head, turning to face the bar again. Harry joins you, standing by your side. Neither of you look at each other, you keep your eyes in front of you at the neat array of liquor set along the counter.
“Nice night, don’t you think?” You break the awkward silence threatening to form between the two of you.
You catch sight of Harry nodding his head, “Always a nice night with this lot.”
Dry as fuck. You might not be close with Harry, but you aren’t stupid. You know the way he speaks to people, you’ve seen it. Harry could have an hour long conversation with a tree. But with you, it seems like a fucking chore.
You want to scoff. You want to scoff at how fucking childish Harry’s acting with you. Why can’t he look at you or have a normal conversation with you?
You sigh, not wanting to overreact over such a minor reply and ruin the night for yourself. Although Harry seems to be doing a decent job of that himself.
“Can’t argue with that.” You murmur.
“Mhm.” Harry murmurs and you wait a beat for him to say something else, anything else.
He doesn’t.
That’s it.
“I feel like I don’t know you.” Your words spill out before you can stop them.
Harry’s taken by surprise. He turns to face you. Now he’s looking, at least. “Sorry?”
“I feel like I don’t know you.” You sigh, repeating yourself.
“What is there to know?” He furrows his eyebrows at you, gesturing to the bartender that he wants a glass of something.
“You tell me, Harry Styles.”
He sighs, running a hand through his curly hair, “Y/N, what are you trying to get at here?”
You shrug, “I dunno, I feel like I click with everyone else. I’ve got a connection with everyone, H. Everyone but you.” Your words come out harsher than you intended. You’d feel a little guilty if they weren’t true. But they are.
“That was unnecessary.” Harry murmurs so quietly that you almost don’t hear him.
“You asked me a question and I answered it.” You stand your ground, sick of Harry’s half-assed efforts to conversing with you. You’re a catch, your friendship is amazing, and you’re great to talk to. What the hell is Harry’s problem?
He laughs, scoffing at you in disbelief, “Fuck, you’re such a bitch sometimes.”
You almost choke on your own saliva, “Excuse me?”
“You fuckin’ heard me, Y/N. I called you a bitch. Because that’s what you are half the time when shit doesn’t go your way.” Harry doesn’t know where this is all coming from, but it’s coming.
He doesn’t mean it, obviously. He’d never mean that. He doesn’t think you’re a bitch. Again, never. But he’s angry. He’s angry and you’re angry and you’re both speaking without thinking it through properly and you’re both making an absolute mess of the situation and each other—
“What the fuck?” You stare at Harry in shock, your eyes wide with disgust.
He’s confused by your offended reaction, “What, are you surprised or something? Come on, Bunny. You know better than that.”
“You don’t have to be such an ass,” You scold him, “We used to get along. We used to be closer. We’ve never been as close as the others but at least we used to speak. At least I was able to walk into a room knowing you were there and look forward to it.”
His face relaxes at your words. He knows you mean well. You’ve both been hotheaded for a moment but now you seem to be calming down. You’re bringing your point across well and he can’t fault you for it.
“But what now? What fuckin’ now, H? You never speak to me when we’re alone, and then when you finally do, it’s this. It’s an attack on my character. Does this shit get you off or something?”
Never mind.
Harry scoffs at your sudden change in tone, feeling agitated again, “Fuck you.”
You slam your hand on the counter, “Fuck you, Harry!”
He glares at you as you continue scolding him, “What the hell are we even doing here? Go spend time with your actual friends.”
“Hey, wait a second. What?” He leans his head to the side in confusion, not knowing what you mean, “We’ve known each other for years, Bunny.”
“I don’t know a single thing about you.” You point out, making him roll his eyes. “Don’t roll your—“
“Where’s my favourite place to eat?” Harry cuts you off with a question. A question that you know the answer to.
“That’s not—”
“Where do I go when I’m upset?” Again, another question you can answer.
“Harry—”
“How did I get the scar on my chin?” That’s a special question. You gave it to him the day you met.
You sigh, knowing where he’s going with this. He’s not understanding what you’re trying to tell him and it infuriates you.
You tap the tips of your fingers on the countertop, feeling anxious, “That’s not what I—”
“You do know me, Y/N. we don’t need to speak every two seconds or braid each other’s hair to know each other well.”
Your eyes begin to prick with tears. That isn’t what you meant and he knows that.
“That’s not what I meant.” You lower your voice as it threatens to crack.
“Then what did you mean, Bunny?” He crosses his arms and stares at you, waiting on an explanation.
You groan, throwing your head in your hands.
The truth is, you can explain. You can explain everything you’re feeling well. But is that going to get you anywhere right now? Maybe. Maybe not. You have a better idea.
“Do you consider me a friend?”
Harry’s face drops. You can tell that he’s upset and borderline offended that you’re even asking that question.
Of course you’re friends. You’ve been friends for years. He adores you. Why can’t you see that he adores you?
“Bunny..” He takes a step towards you, and you take one back.
“Do you?” You insist on getting a solid answer.
“Of course I consider you a fr—”
“Don’t lie.” You cross your arms over your chest.
“I’m not—”
“Tell me something real, Harry. Please. God, please just tell me something that isn’t base level for once,” You beg, “Tell me something true.”
He raises his eyebrows slightly. He’s taken back. He wasn’t expecting that from you at all.
He stays silent.
“You can’t, can you?” You scoff at him, not knowing why you expected anything to come from this conversation. You should’ve known better than to be hopeful about how things were going to go with Harry..because it’s Harry, “I don’t know why I thought you’d—“
“I still smoke cigarettes.” Harry cuts you off, blurting out an admission. He tenses his jaw in realisation—he’s just as shocked as you are.
Oh.
Your eyes widen at his confesion. Harry’s been gloating to everyone about how he so easily quit smoking three months ago. You’re all so proud of him, considering how difficult it is to quit something cold turkey the way he did. The rest of you haven’t been able to shake the bad habit. Apparently, neither has he.
“You do?” You question.
He nods, “Less. But I do.”
“Why?”
He almost smiles at your question, “Why do I smoke?”
“Why did you lie about it?”
He sighs, looking down as he answers you, “Everyone’s got something, right? Sarah and Mitch have their relationship, Niall has his singing, Lewis has his stand-up every Friday, you have your double degree. I just wanted something that everyone could be proud of. Felt like something small like that would’ve been manageable to keep hidden from everyone.”
You frown, “Harry..”
“No,” He shakes his head, refusing to let you feel sorry for him, “No. Seriously, no. We’re not about to do pity. That’s not what we do with each other.”
“Okay,” You clear your throat and agree to let it go, grabbing a now filled shot glass and handing it over to him, “Drink?”
He smirks at you, silently thanking you as he reaches forward and takes the shot glass from you.
“Sorry for calling you a bitch.” He murmurs, offering you a small, sincere smile.
You give him one back, “Sorry for being one.”
His small smile turns into a grin.
“To the truth.” You hold your glass up to cheers his with.
“To the fuckin’ truth.”
You both down your shots and tap them down on the counter to gesture for the bartender to refill them. He complies and neither of you waste a second to down the next ones. Over and over, shot after shot, you continue to drink until you’re buzzed.
You’re both good at handling your liquor, and you know how much you can take. By the time you’re done with your shots, you’re over the moon. Buzzed and aware. Aware of what you feel, aware of where you are, aware of who you’re with. Aware.
Harry leans down, his face dangerously close to yours. He’s never been this close, you don’t think. You’ve never seen his face so clearly, you’ve never seen his chest tattoos so well, his necklace dangling, his—
“Should we go dance with the others now, you think?” He speaks into your ear and you feel your stomach beginning to erupt with nerves.
“Yeah,” You inhale sharply, nodding, “Sure.”
Harry grabs your hand and leads you through the crowd, keeping a hold of you even when you reach where your friends are. The contact is strange but you welcome it, liking the new barrier that’s being broken between the two of you.
Over the years, you’ve noticed how touchy he can get when he’s under the influence, so you have an idea of what you’re getting into. You like being on the receiving end for once. You could get used to this side of Harry. You like being his friend. His real friend.
Once you get to where the others are, you quickly gauge what they’re all doing. Mitch and Sarah are in their own little world as usual, dancing together as if it’s their wedding night. Niall’s dancing with a random girl he’s probably going home with later tonight and Lewis is making a fool of himself in the middle of them. Ah, friendship. You love to see it.
“Nice song, yeah?” Harry leans over to your ear, speaking over the music. The song playing is one of your all time favourites—Wet Dream by WetLeg.
Anyone who knows you, knows the way you feel about this song. It’s become tradition to play it everytime you carpool. A fine tradition, you think.
“Oh, the best.” You start bopping your head to the beat of the song, singing along with the lyrics you know and love.
“I was in your wet dream driving in my caaar, saw you at the side of the road, there’s no one else around you’re touching yourself, touching yourself—“ You start yelling out the words along with everyone else on the dance floor, shaking your head side to side and dramatising every word. Harry watches you and smirks, letting you have your moment.
“You said—“
You’re about to keep singing the next part when he beats you to it, “Baby do you want to come home with me? I got Buffalo ‘66 on dvd!”
You let out a surprised laugh at the fact that Harry even knows the words to the song, loving that you’re seeing this side to him. You’d never expect to have something as simple as loving a song like this in common, but here you are.
Beam me up—beam me up!
Count me in—count me in!
Three, two, one—three, two, one!
Let's begin!
The song continues and you realise that you’ve both been staring at each other for a good ten seconds in silence, just taking in the sight of each other. Harry really is beautiful. The way his hair hangs perfectly below his shoulders. The way his dimples show at the smallest hint of a smile. The way his eyes burn into yours. You never want to see anything else. Just him. Just Harry.
“I was in your wet dream, driving in my caaaar!” Harry’s voice breaks you out of your daydream, and you laugh as he grabs your hands, dancing with you to the beat of the song.
“What makes you think you're good enough to think about me when you're touching yourself?” You continue the song and he pretends to be shocked, acting out the song with you.
“You climb onto the bonnet and you’re licking the windscreen! I’ve never seen anything so obscene!” You both sing the next part together, leaning in close to each other’s faces and practically screaming with the biggest smiles on your faces, “It’s enough! To make a girl blush! It’s enough! It’s enough to make a girl blush!”
The rest of the song plays and you both continue to scream out every word, making the most of the moment you’re having and hoping it never ends. Neither of you are sure what’s going on but neither of you are complaining. You’re both witnessing a new side to each other and you’re enjoying it. Perhaps you were made to be best friends like the others. Maybe it was meant to happen like this.
The song eventually comes to an end and you both let out a deep sigh, catching your breath for a moment as another random song plays.
Harry looks down at you with parted lips, “Nice singing, Bunny.”
“Could say the same to you, H.” You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. The move is natural and you don’t put too much thought into it. Neither does Harry.
His hands find their way to your waist and you both sway in time with the music, singing the lyrics into each other’s faces and having the time of your lives.
“I haven’t had sex in 5 months!” His voice is just loud enough for you to hear over the music.
Your eyebrows furrow, “What?”
He leans closer to your face, “I said—I said I haven’t had—”
“No I—I heard you H,” You chuckle, “I’m just a little—”
“Surprised? Yeah me too.” He grins at you, suddenly seeming to be completely comfortable with you in a way you never expected, “I stole that chocolate bar from you last week by the way, it wasn’t Niall.”
You laugh for a moment at his strange confessions until you process what he just told you, “Wait that was you?”
“Loud ‘n proud, bunny.” He grins proudly.
“You—you fucker!” You gasp, playfully hitting his chest with one of your hands, keeping the other where it was around his neck.
He chuckles, playing along, “Did you forget what I just—”
“Shut up!”
You both laugh, continuing to move your bodies together.
“What about you? Tell me something true.”
You purse your lips together, trying to come up with something to tell Harry. There’s a million things you could tell him, but you want to catch him off guard. You want to see an honest, raw reaction from him.
“I think you’re really pretty.” You finally say, shrugging your shoulders.
Harry raises his eyebrows at you, unsure if you’re being serious. “Pretty?”
You nod.
He tilts his head for a moment, “Weird choice of words.”
“I don’t think so,” You smile at him, “You’re a pretty boy.”
He smiles back, “You’re a pretty bunny.”
“We’re pretty.”
“We are.”
You both smile at each other and share a brief moment. A moment of what—you’re not sure. Two friends being supportive of each other? Two friends suddenly becoming closer and making the most of it? Two friends two friends two friends—
The next song begins playing and your heart begins to pace more. Desire, Meg Myers.
The two of you exchange a look, knowing that you won’t move together to this song the same way you have been for the others.
You know that you won’t be singing along with this one. You’d rather feel it. Feel Harry.
You move your hands away from around Harry’s neck, and he keeps his on your waist, holding you close. You move your hands down and place them over his, feeling electric all of a sudden.
Baby, I wanna fuck you
I wanna feel you in my bones
The song is loud and the coloured lights are flashing red. The atmosphere has changed—not only in the bar and on the dance floor, but between you and Harry. The way he’s looking at you is different. The way you’re looking at him is different. The way he’s touching you is different. The way you’re touching him is different.
I’m gonna tear into your soul
You begin to sway your hips to the beat of the song, holding your eyes over Harry’s. Neither of you dare to look away. You wouldn’t dream of it.
How do you want me?
How do you want me?
You begin to turn your body in time with the music, turning your back to Harry. He leans his head down, resting his head on your shoulder and keeping his hands by your waist as you continue to move against each other. You feel a surge of confidence—you’re not sure if it’s the song, if it’s the alcohol, if it’s Harry’s random confessions, if it’s the feelings you’ve been suppressing from him for years—but it’s here. It’s here and you’re about to make the most of it.
Yeah I gotta hurt you, I gotta hear it from your mouth
Boy, I wanna taste you, I wanna skin you with my tongue
I’m gonna kill you
You lean your ass back, moving it against Harry’s crotch. He sucks in a breath, and the only way you know it is because you feel his teeth graze the skin of your bare shoulder. Your eyes close at the feeling and you grow bolder, moving the same way a second time.
He tightens his grip on your waist. You can feel the bulge of his cock against your ass and you can only imagine how much it’s straining against the band of his jenas. You almost pity him. Almost.
I wanna feel you
I want it all
I wanna feel you
I want it all
You continue moving against Harry, enjoying his little reactions to your touch. To the way you feel. He begins trailing kisses down your neck, applying pressure and sucking on your skin. You still. You can’t focus on anything but the way his lips feel against you.
What’s going on between you both? What the fuck is happening? Why the fuck has it taken so long? Why couldn’t it happen sooner?
So many questions.
“Bunny,” Harry groans against your shoulder, placing one last kiss to your neck before moving his mouth to your ear, “Tell me something true.”
You know exactly what you want to say. Again, there’s so much you want to tell him. You want to tell him how good he feels against you, how much you love the way he moves his body against yours. You want to tell him that you feel the connection now. You want to tell him that you know he can feel it too. There’s so much to say, but you settle for the most simple thing. The most important one.
“I want you.”
•••
aaahhhh!!! i’m sososo proud of this one. idk why but this shot has a special place in my heart. the smut will be included in the second part. and believe me, it’s gonna be SMUT. i’m such a whore for angst n this friendship trope is just chef’s kiss.
anyway enough chat. i hope y'all enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3 if you liked what you read then please reblog n comment. feel free to suggest ideas for new posts too.
have a good day or night wherever you are n stay safe, always <3
- k
#smut#one shot#harry styles#harry styles smut#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x y/n one shot#harry styles x y/n smut#harry styles x you#harry styles x you one shot#harry styles x you smut#harry styles x reader#harry styles x reader smut#harry styles x reader one shot#harry styles x oc#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles one shot#one direction smut#frenemies#frenemies smut#angst#harry styles angst#harry styles dirty one shot#harry styles dirty fanfiction#harry styles dirty imagine#kilistina#kilistina <3
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Harry's Home
Part IV.
Part I. Part II. Part III.
Pairing: Roommate!Harry/Roommate!Reader; Harry Styles/Curvy Reader
Word Count: ~13k words 😅 it’s been a long time comin’, babes!
🔞TW🔞: Adult Language, ‼️Unprotected Sex‼️, ‼️GRAPHIC SMUT‼️, Rough Sex, ‼️CNC‼️, ‼️Dubious Consent‼️, Daddy!Kink, ‼️Choking‼️, ‼️Degradation/Name-Calling‼️, Breeding!Kink, Spitting, ‼️Slapping‼️, Spanking, Cunnilingus, Creampie, Cum-Swapping, Cum-Fetish, 💕Fluff💕
I typically get home from work before Harry does, and so my current state of rest and relaxation—coincidentally adjacent to the book I’m holding: My Year of Rest and Relaxation—is an occurrence Harry’s used to coming home to by now. I mean, not that he’s coming home to me. He’s just…coming home, and I also happen to be living here. Speaking of which, I’m situated in my bedroom. I've already slipped into my night clothes—thin, loose pajama pants and an oversized crop tee—laying my back against the cushioned headboard of my bed.
Suddenly, my ears perk up. The hum and vibration of the garage door opening and closing pulls my attention away from the novel I’d been engrossed in for the past hour towards my empty door frame. Less than a minute later, a door slams, physically startling me, and my posture straightens as if I’m expecting a scolding. I have no reason to react this way, really. It’s not like I have Daddy Issues or anything…or even like this is something out of the ordinary…
Harry’s home…
That’s all.
But judging by the door slams, Harry’s not all sunshine and rainbows this evening. And that, as well, is not something out of the ordinary. Today is just like any other day. Nothing special. Nothing different. But for some reason, it’s as if I can feel the force of his brooding presence weighing heavily atop my chest from an entire floor away.
I’m staring dumbly at my room’s entrance. Harsh, stomping footsteps alert me of Harry’s wandering after-work routine. Even with my ears plugged, I’d still sense the undying tension between us growing as our distance lessened. My heart is pounding violently in my chest. I make the conscious decision to set my book aside on my nightstand once I realize I’ve read the same sentence 20 times.
“Hey, Bunny?! You upstairs, love?” his voice booms, and my thighs immediately squeeze together at the velvety baritone calling out for me. I’m stuck in place and now a competitive mouth-breather—I could be the final girl in a horror film. Geez, chill out, Y/N. I’ve welcomed him home a million times before, and I’ve never felt this…needy—nay—desperate. My body feels so starved. His footsteps are ascending up the stairs now.
Harry reaches our second floor and releases a deep sigh. “Mmhm?” My reply starts to flow out of me like a moan and I swallow the second half of it down in an attempt to cut it short. It’s for naught as I suck in a harsh breath immediately afterwards, sounding like I’m drowning on land. Oh, God…and I can feel a wet patch soaking through the crotch-seam of my pajamas. My nipples are poking out beyond my thin, lacy, unpadded bra, shamelessly creating peaks through my loose t-shirt. Harry suddenly appears from the depths of the hallway and stands tall at my open door. I’m maneuvering myself so that I’m sitting upright, but then the fabric slowly tugs taut over my chest, clinging to my sensitive nipples and stimulating them even more. My lips part and I can’t help the whimper that comes out of me. It’s audible enough that the man scrunches his forehead and questions my well-being once he hears it. “You alright, Bun’?” he asks, his brow arched with mild concern. I gasp, startled by his abrupt entrance, and my body instinctively recoils. My buxom breasts bounce from the action. The movement is subtle—well, as subtle as a large pair of jiggling tits can be when they’re knocked around by walls of inertia and the force of gravity—and Harry doesn’t miss any of it. His eyes blink down to watch the magic of physics for a moment, and all I can think about is how I hope he can’t see how hard my nipples are through my thin bra and top…
What am I even saying?! Who am I trying to convince? We all know I’d flash him Girls-Gone-Wild-style right now if I had the guts.
He furrows his eyebrows at me from across the dimly-lit room and leans his hip against the door frame, crossing his arms over his front. I’m trying not to become distracted by how well his biceps fill out his dress shirt, or by the way the muscles in his chest dance a little bit every time he folds his arms like that. “Uh-huh.” I moan(again), unable to form a coherent sentence. I’m still on my merry way to the mouth-breather national championships, but at least I’m not wheezing…yet. Am I on the verge of hyperventilation? Who knows. My body only seems to betray me…so stay tuned. Harry’s tongue pokes out of his mouth and he slicks it from side to side to dampen his bottom lip.
“Why ya so jumpy..? Wha’s wrong?” He inquires, his eyes drifting down to my heaving chest again. His eyes flick back up to mine seemingly as soon as he clocks the two little bullets aimed in his direction. His complexion warms, but I’m certain his blush is nothing compared to mine. I swear, if he keeps looking at my tits like that…Gah…Is it getting hotter in here? Shit, didn’t he ask me something? Eh, whatever. Words aren’t even exiting my mouth anymore. Harry’s just standing there, keeping his distance and watching me pant like I’ve just finished the mile-run in gym class (what a nightmare). Judging by the worry in his brow and genuine concern in his voice, I must have given him the impression that I’d just seen a goddamned ghost walk through the wall or something. I almost wish I had that excuse to fall back on right now…But the room falls silent. Each puff of carbon dioxide is released from my mouth like a silent cry for help. So now I’m really playing the part of the out-of-breath chubby girl in gym class. Not exactly the vibe I’m going for right now. Or ever. Never again—AH! I need to say something—anything! I can hear the swoosh of my eyelashes as they cut through the air every time I blink. I’m significantly hyper-aware of my body. What if I swallow the excess spit in my mouth and I start choking?! Oh, God…now I’m worried about that?!
Any explanation or reassurance Harry assumes to receive for my strange behavior is withheld. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even know how to explain myself to him because I’ve let this go on for too long. Seconds pass by in a torturous silence, but the seconds feel like minutes, and one minute feels like an eternity when I’m in the same room as a 6-foot ticking time-bomb who’s one nudge away from exploding into a holy-shit-fit. Crabby Harry doesn’t like to feel ignored. He doesn’t like to repeat himself. And he doesn’t like it when his pretty little roommate is disobedient.
Abandoning his usual, gentle inflection, he amplifies his voice and waves his hands back and forth, seemingly annoyed and now crossing the line over to belligerence. “Hellooo?!” Harry calls out to me. My ears ring at the aggressive tone and I flinch. “What's the matter with you, huh?” Still nothing. Well, I’m saying nothing. Everything is the matter with me. There’s so much wrong. Please help me. Get me out of this fucking room or I’ll scream.
Another empty beat goes by. This is so embarrassing.
Being the ill-tempered and impatient man he is, Harry’s reprimanding escalates, now practically yelling at me like I’ve been a bad girl, “Oi! What kind of bloody game are y’playin’ here?! ‘S not funny, Y/N. I’m over it.” He grits and steps completely into my room now. My personal space has officially been breached. I hold no more power in my safe little bubble anymore. He nods his head once whilst making a lifting gesture with his hand. “C’mon…Sit up and look at me when I’m speaking to you,” he bites out, his voice snappy and demanding.
Hm. Ok, so, it’s safe to say that he is, indeed, not in a good mood—not in the mood to try and be patient while his horny and dumb roommate is devouring him with her eyes and forgetting how to breathe properly, that’s for sure.
His heightened volume and combative language pulls me back to reality. I clear my throat and sit with my legs criss-crossed under me. My shaky hands find solace deep inside my lap, squeezing between the warm thickness of my thighs. The hasty new sitting position causes the crotch seam of my pajama pants to rest tightly against the slit of my pussy. Every time I move my hips or straighten my back, it tugs the thick seam forwards/backwards against my clit, sending waves of teasing pleasure through my lower tummy. But I try to be oblivious to this right now because I really don't need the extra stimulation. I’m already drenched and dying for Harry to pump load after load of cum inside of me—you know, just my typical Friday.
“I’m sorry…I-I’m…just really…super tired…” I fake a yawn. “…Just woke up from a nap.” I croak, lazily rubbing my eye to play it up. What a bold-faced lie—I’m wide fucking awake. My corneas may be stinging, and my thoughts are completely clouded with lust, but I couldn’t fall asleep right now even if I tried. He’d have to choke me out…Ooh…
God…
I tilt my head down, feeling utterly flustered and ashamed of my naughty internal voice. But I’m finally able to direct my rogue train of thought away from the tracks to fucktown, returning my sights to the real-life Harry who’s currently glaring at me. Yeesh…He’s pissed. “So, um…long day?” My voice cracks pathetically. Those are gonna be my famous last words, aren’t they? Harry clenches his jaw before answering me. “Long day—?” He stops himself, scoffs, and runs a hand through his hair. “Oh, Y/N, now that you’ve mentioned it, yes. My day was absolute shit!” His skin is heating up. He aggressively unbuttons his sleeve cuffs and roughly pushes them up to his elbows. Ugh, I love it when he does that.
The cranky version of Harry has been coming out more and more lately, and honestly, seeing him like this makes me melt. He’s so hot when he’s mad…is it wrong to think that? I can’t help it anyway. His pheromones constantly call out for me, relentless to allow me a break from wanting him. From needing him. I should be careful and let him be, but I’m dying to know how much aggression he could take out on me. What would he resort to? Would he bend me over his lap for a controlled punishment? Or would he hold me down while he savagely fucked his rage out? Oh, god, please…please. Harry pops open a few of his shirt buttons, working to cool himself off. I can see more of his skin now—a light dusting of hair, the swallow feathers, the antennas of his butterfly.
“Ran into construction on my way in, had to work through lunch, and I didn’t even get to see you before I left this morning…” He frowns, “...Probably why I’ve been a grump all day…” I chew on my lower lip anxiously and watch as his somber expression slowly lightens a smidge as he stares off into space. “Honestly, I was hoping my Bunny’s gorgeous face would welcome me home tonight…with those darling doe eyes and that smile…I thought she’d make me feel better…” I inhale in preparation to console him, or maybe to defend myself. I don’t even know what I want to say. It doesn’t matter, though, because he cuts me off before I can even think up a sentence. “But I guess y’just wanna be a right-fuckin’-pain’n my ass instead, don’t you, Y/N?” His accent thickens as his temper worsens. Pouting, I flick my eyes down to the stitching on my duvet of which my fingers seem to have been subconsciously fidgeting with since I’d first sat up. My teeth nervously nibble on my lip before whispering one of his words to myself. “Gorgeous…” My voice sounds so soft and meek, and I’m blushing like crazy. The atmosphere feels hot and humid, although it’s a crisp, Oregon October. “Wha—?” Harry takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment as if to collect his thoughts. “—Yes. I think you’re…quite lovely, actually. ‘Always thought that, Bunny.” His rough speech makes him sound so tired. So worn out. I want to make him feel better. There’s still time to do that, isn’t there?
He lifts his head and looks at me, and my breath hitches at the sharp eye contact. Unexpectedly, Harry grunts and kicks my door closed behind him with a splintering slam. My body jolts. “Harry…” I breathe out. If I wasn’t already feeling subby, I surely am now. It’s one thing for him to raise his voice, but he’s never gotten physical before. I’ve never seen this side of Harry...I’m…scared. But I want more... Jesus, I’m tumbling down into a bottomless pit of subspace, aren’t I…?
“You wanna know a secret, Bunny?” He scoffs, squeezing and releasing his hands at his sides. I see his knuckles turn from golden tan to white from the pressure, over and over again, until he looks down at his socked feet and shakes his head with the ghost of a smile on his flushed face. “God, I jus’…I jus’ wanna…” He clenches and unclenches his jaw several times during his pause of silence. His mouth is closed, but I know his teeth are gritted together. His next words are growled at me, and I can just barely process them. “...You’ve had no bloody clue, have you…?” He raises his head to shoot daggers at me and continues, “…No clue how bad I’ve needed…Christ, Y/N…” He’s pacing the floor. “…Fuck, from the moment you walked into that bar, I wanted to claim you. Did you know that?” He stops pacing, squints, and cocks his head at me, his inked arms crossed over his chest again.
Rhetorical questions are confusing(fucking annoying) when the person asking them looks at you like they’re expecting an answer. (like this: 👁️_👁️)
I instinctively avoid eye contact and drop my head down, my shoulders rotating forward defensively. “All this fucking time, Y/N…And now every goddamn second of every day, you taunt me. You hop around like the little fuck-bunny you are, your huge tits practically bouncing out of your bra—” He bites the inside of his cheek and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before clearing his throat and beginning again. “—wearing those tiny little shorts that barely cover that fat, juicy ass…Jesus Christ…all the fucking time, Y/N...” He groans. As he’s describing me, he becomes so infuriated that he needs to stop speaking just to let out an exasperated breath filled with rage and arousal. “...All the fucking time, I’m having to force myself to be good. I have to remind myself that you’re too sensitive…that I can’t…I…” He sighs and combs his fingers through his mane of soft curls. “...I have to be careful around you, y’know? Your existence…just you merely existing ‘round me…you drive me fucking mad…” I gulp and raise my head back up to see he has his back turned to me. His shoulders are heaving as he breathes heavily, and his muscles are clearly tensed beneath his slightly wrinkled button-down. He circles the room slowly, eventually standing before me once again. “You don’t know half the things I’ve wanted to do to you…” His dilated eyes twitch, and he gives me a lopsided grin. “...Except, you do, don’t you, sweetheart?” My mouth dries up like someone’s just pulled the spit drain. “Huh? W-what are you t-talking about?!” I nearly choke on my sorry excuse for denial. I stare at him in disbelief, wishing to God that I had the courage to sass him back. But all of that assertion seems to have gone on vacation.
Harry just shakes his head and grins devilishly. “Don’t be like that…” Bending forward, he huskily goads on, “…I know you want to suck my cock, Y/N.”
My eyes widen and my heart pumps harder in my chest as Harry nears closer to the bed. He’s burning holes into me and I can feel my skin heat up wherever his eyes roam. I’m beginning to scoot up farther toward the headboard in subconscious defense. “Hmm? What's that silly lil’ head of yours thinkin’ bout? Gagging on my dick? Bet that’s it. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Bunny?” Though it’s clear in his inflection that his intentions are to get a rise out of me, his predatory stare and steady prowl he leads in my direction tell me otherwise. I’m being hunted. His knees hit the edge of my raised bed with a soft bump. Both of his hands slide down his torso and he rests one on his thigh whilst the other rubs up and down his straining erection. He lifts one knee up onto the bed, gaining in on me. I automatically draw my attention downwards, but regret it instantly because seeing the outline of his thickness makes me moan. The desert that once took over the cavern of my mouth has now been blessed with a river of needy saliva. When I switch back to Harry’s face, I’ve already been caught ogling. So much for denial, Y/N.
Harry chuckles boyishly—the same playful chuckle I’ll hear when I send him a meme or a TikTok from across the room or down the hall. It’s much more menacing hearing it now within this context. “D’you want Daddy to fuck your mouth, Princess?” He jeers, tilting his head. Scoffing, I stare up at him wide-eyed. In the low corners of my vision, my breasts rise and fall with every labored breath. I can hear myself almost gasping for air. I swallow the rest of my shock down and shake my head gently—I refuse to answer his filthy question aloud. He exhales bitterly, visibly irritated. “Hm. I knew you were just a fucking tease.” He says gruffly before giving his hard-on one more squeeze over his slacks. He shakes his head at me in what I perceive as disappointment, then leans forward on the bed, holding himself up by his palms. The ever-increasing closeness to this man intoxicates me. His aggression is further spiraling me into the permanence of that special space of mine. I can feel myself pouting my lips with my head bowed as if I’m being disciplined by, well…you know who.
(And, no. Not Voldemort.)
I don’t wanna say the D-word. Harry just used the term to try and embarrass me. To shame me. Fuck you, Harry. As I’ve confessed previously—I basically thrive off of his attention—and this right now, of course, is still fueling me deliciously. Although, I don’t quite enjoy how he’s accusing me of being a tease. He’s just being an asshole. Hmph…I am not a tease. I’ve got a bite, Styles. Just come a little closer, and I’ll prove it.
I don’t even realize that I’ve begun to glare at him until his voice takes me away from my raging thoughts. He lowers his timbre and slowly shakes his head once more, “Quit givin’ me that look, Bunny…Y’bout to start somethin’, aren’t ya?” He nods his chin at me. I nervously shrink into my bed, absent-mindedly squishing my tits together with my arms and furrowing my eyebrows like I’m about to reluctantly agree. But before I totally fold into the compliant little toy he wants me to be, I decide to change gears at the last second. Straightening up onto my knees and crawling towards him, I close in on him near the edge of the mattress, backing him up, my eyes narrowed and defiant as they meet with those of the audacious man leaning onto my bed. “So what if I do, Harry?” I surprise myself with how tough and bratty I sound. Harry only ‘tsk’s at my attempt at defending myself. Narrowing his eyes, he leans farther over the bed so that he’s almost touching my nose with his. He’s so close to me now, and I'm worried the pounding drumbeat of my heart is blowing my cover. But I refuse to surrender to his piercing gaze or cower away from him in fear. That’s what he wants me to do. He wants me to give him that power. But I won’t—not without a fight. Not without a struggle…Just a little bit…
I close my eyes for a moment and breathe deeply through my nose. The spicy notes of his signature cologne are making me salivate. Sure, I’ve caught whiffs of it once in a while during our hugs or in passing, but the scent communicates with me differently at this moment. Masculine. Woodsy. Clean. Like taking a gulp of spiked apple cider next to a bonfire on a cool fall evening, surrounded by giant pine trees. I’m addicted to the inhale. An intense desperation for more grows in the pit of my stomach as I continue to suck in the breaths of Harry. I never want the remnants of him to leave my lungs. It’s strange how something as simple as a fragrance has given me such primal desires. When I open my eyes again, I’m immediately drawn down to his lips. God…have they always been this pink and smooth? Harry must know I’m staring because he wets his mouth with his tongue before a clever smirk stretches across it. I bet he thinks I’m going to surrender. But I coax my attention away from his distracting features before I lose any more of my self-control. I can pull myself out of this, I know I can. I just need to channel my energy into something else other than lust. I focus towards the path of furiousness. The oath of silence I'd previously been taking is no longer an option for me as all I see are flames. Harry makes me so fucking mad. He comes home, slams doors, makes me feel vulnerable even in the safety of my own bedroom…degrades me, slams another fucking door…MY door. Calls me a fucking tease while he grabs his dick right in front of me?!
Alright—That’s it. No more playing nice. Go hard or go home, Y/N.
I straighten my posture, arching my back and subtly pushing my breasts out towards him, then relax, putting on my best poker face. “Go ahead, Harry…” I lure him, my voice all but a breathy coo. “…Take it out on me…” His eyebrow quirks up, but I know from the darkness in his eyes and the slight flare to his nostrils that he’s not amused by my sudden audacity. I continue, purring, “…Unless you’re too scared you’ll hurt me—” In a split second, his strong hand roughly wraps itself around my neck and I’m shoved backwards onto my duvet. He’s squeezing the sides of my throat and forcing his whole weight on top of me, pinning me down and blocking air. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. Harry inches closer until our lips barely brush together by a hair's width. “Fucking brat,” he practically spits. I struggle to swallow the hard lump in my throat. My body is stuck, painfully held down, yet I’m still desperately squirming to arch myself up against him for even the smallest bit of friction. I’m clenching my inner walls over and over again as if lazy kegels will soothe my itch. I’m essentially drooling out of both ends. I’m now realizing this isn’t a fucked up little game between housemates anymore. The line has finally been crossed.
Harry’s eyes drift down to my rosy lips and back up again. His nose nudges against mine. He knows exactly what I want and he’s taunting me…holding himself right in front of my face as I lay here, my eyesight blurring. “There’s no turning back now.” He seethes. He smiles darkly at my helplessness, then feathers his lips over the flushed skin of my cheek. His soft kisses press along the length of my jaw before he speaks again. “Just like how I can’t take back all those times I’ve wanked off listenin’ to your pretty moans from my room…” His words trail off against my goosebump-ridden neck. “...Inn’ that right, baby?” “Mmmhh.” I whimper in agreement, the noise vibrating from my larynx and into his large palm. Our shared heat is suffocatingly erotic. The air I breathe is damp and thick, but I can only see to basking in this paradise for all of eternity. I’m still panting under him with my arms lying dead at my sides, my fingernails biting into the heels of my hands. I feel like Harry’s peering into my subconscious with how intensely his pitted irises concentrate upon mine. I’m losing it. My sanity is at stake. I think I’m just in shock over the reality of the situation—the fact that this is all real. And if it is real, then Harry needs to get fucking going, otherwise I will scream until my stupid lungs give out. All I want at this moment is to have him on my tongue. To know what Harry tastes like. I can barely hear myself when I say it. I swallow dryly, his fingers pressed tightly against the delicate skin protecting the shift of muscles in my neck. A spark of audacity jolts through my lungs and I serve the ball back into his court.
“Kiss me.” Like a baby’s breath—that’s how gentle it is. My cheeks flush with embarrassment. What a silly thing to ask. He probably didn’t even hear me—
—Never you doubt these ears of mine, either…I can assure you, I hear everything.
The edge of Harry’s mouth quirks up and he presses his cheek against mine, breathing into my ear, “I hope you realize what you’re requesting…” He pauses to nibble my earlobe for a moment. “Because once I get a taste of you, I’ll never stop.” My breath hitches and I can’t help it as my hips jolt up for contact with his. He snickers. “Mmm, such a horny little thing.” Less than a second later, his lips collide with mine and I hum, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. Our tongues meet briefly before our lips meet again in a desperate, yet rhythmic dance. I could get used to him turning my thoughts off this way.
After locking lips with a few guys, I stopped believing in that ‘spark,’ or the magical leg-pop thing from The Princess Diaries. I came to accept the reality behind kissing as it truly was: lips touching lips…And that was it. But kissing Harry isn’t like that at all. The affection feels genuine—I can feel him lament every sleepless night he’s spent praying that one day I’ll be his as his mouth massages mine. The unfettered desire we swirl against each other’s tongues is an atomic aphrodisiac. Every erogenous zone in my body is pulsating, and I seriously think I might come from this alone. But amidst all the lust, I’m encompassed by love. Each of my favorite cinematic movie kisses flash behind my eyelids as mine and Harry’s lips continue to lap tenderly.
His fingers tighten for just a pulse on my throat as if to remind me that he’s in control. I’m suddenly reminded of how much Harry prefers everything to go his way, and his way only. I know Harry prefers a challenge, so I’ll give it to him. A burst of confidence surges through my veins and I gently latch onto his bottom lip with my teeth. It’s then carefully released with a wet snap. A growl erupts from Harry’s chest, I can feel it just barely thumping against mine. I lift my tits up until I’m flush against his strong torso so our hearts can beat in sync. He drags his lips down my cheek and sucks on the side of my neck whilst the hand not grasping at my throat begins to explore. He starts at my shoulder, sliding down my collarbone, stopping briefly to fondle my breast, then continuing farther until he meets the elastic waistband of my pajama pants, dipping inside and circling behind me to grab my ass over my underwear. He presses our clothed sexes together and grinds into me. Fuck, it’s hot knowing I’m not the only one who’s wet.
I wiggle and squirm beneath him, essentially rubbing myself harder against his solid cock as a result. He groans and pushes his hips, hard, into mine before grinding them in random circular motions. “Ohh, fuck…s-stop it…” I plead, unconvincingly. It feels so fucking good. Why should I make this easy for him? I may have a high sex-drive, but I don’t put-out just for the hell of it. I mean, I guess it’s a little bit different when Harry’s the one trying to get in my pants…I’ve wanted this for so long. “N-no…Harry, stop!” I whine, pretending to protest against his touch. Harry’s face retreats from his attack on my neck to grin at me. “What are you doing?” He chuckles. His hand moves up to my hip, softly squeezing onto my bare, squishy love-handle from under my thin clothing. I shake my head and blink. Ugh, who am I kidding here? I want this. I need this. I’m just holding myself back from the blissful inevitable. I have to let go of my pride…I need to tell Harry that I want him to—“Fuck me.” I blurt out. His eyes widen, and I choose to repeat myself with a little more urging in my voice to emphasize my growing impatience. “Fuck me, Harry.” He lets out a bitter laugh, scoffing at my forwardness and tilts his head slightly. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you?” He asks patronizingly, and I nod. But it seems as though that wasn’t the response he was looking for, as Harry immediately reprimands me for my non-verbal confirmation. He blatantly slaps me across my face. The sharp sting has made me gasp. However, Harry doesn’t seem to be bothered by my anguish in the slightest. He takes pleasure in it. “Try again…What do you say?” A beat passes without a response from me. He slaps me again, “Say it!” I turn my head to face the wall for a moment. Huh? What do I say…? What should I say?! Please…? I don't know! What is he talking about?!
Harry’s now run out of all self-restraint. “You fucking bitch…,” he mumbles, the grip of his fingers sliding up from my throat to my cheeks, squeezing my jaw, then jerking and pointing my face directly to him. “Say it…Tell me who you want to fuck you.” He demands with more assertion. My vision slowly returns to its full clarity. And just as fast as the sharp colors that flood back into the world around me, the narcissistic asshole’s indirect request hits me like a motherfucking double-decker bus. If I wasn’t being watched so closely by Harry at the moment, I’d have the evilest, shit-eating grin on my face. “P-please, Daddy…” I grovel. “Please, fuck me.” Harry instantly smiles at the title I honor him with.
Of course he wants me to call him ‘Daddy’—the exact thing he’d used against me just a few minutes ago to try and make me feel insecure. What a prick. Typically, I’d roll my fucking eyes at his outright arrogance, but I’m far too distracted to care. My current condition holds no room for petty judgment to ruin this moment. I really just want Harry—Daddy—to fuck me.
“Mmm, that’s my girl, Bunny…I love when you’re good f’me, sweetheart.” The soothing hush of his voice combined with the mess of hot kisses he leaves down my face, smearing from my lips to the side of my neck, have released a new wave of liquid heat to pool out into my panties. I return to being choked again, but his affections don’t cease. He’s groaning and panting and lapping mercilessly at my skin—it’s as though he’s indulging in his special treat after a hard day’s work. Harry finds a particularly sensitive spot with the pressure of his lips and tongue, my loud gasp making it obvious. As he sucks a mark onto my skin there, I moan out and grab his chocolate locks to have something to hold onto. My neck is released from his chokehold. A fresh gust of air makes contact with my skin there and it sends a little shiver down my shoulders.
Both of his hands move down to grope at my chest, thumbing at my nipples over my thin shirt and bra. His delicate attention to my sensitive breasts forces me to vocalize my satisfaction. “Ohhhh!” Seeing the way his big hands can’t even encompass them completely is insanely hot for the both of us. “Goddamnit, I’ve wanted to touch these for so fucking long, Y/N.” Once he’s decided he’s teased himself enough, he lifts my shirt, shoving it up past the swells of my tits. My thin, lacy undergarment is practically begging to be discarded, and the stars must be on Harry’s side because the bra clasps together in the front. This revelation absolutely thrills him. He unfastens the center clip, beaming with lust as my tits are set free in a bouncy display before him. “Mmhh, my Godddd…look at you.” His lips and tongue immediately latch onto me—squishing both breasts with his hands and alternating between them with his mouth, licking sloppy wet trails around my areolas, his tongue swirling its way to the center and flicking the nubs until I whine for more. He then resorts to sucking on each of the budded nipples, playing with the opposite one with the damp pad of his thumb in tandem. He then gratefully cups my tits and groans as he buries his face between them. He does it all hungrily, moaning against my skin and relishing in my body’s feel and taste.
His needy technique delights me. It feels as if he’s taking his time to savor and memorize every detail of me with his slick tongue. I lay my head back and allow myself to bask in the pleasure, becoming entranced under Harry’s spell as his famished mouth kisses and sucks on my sensitive nipples. I comb my fingers through his loose curls and caress his stubbly cheeks with my gentle embrace. My clit is throbbing to experience direct stimulation from this man—swollen and jealous of my breasts which have received so much of his eager attention. His hands wander, grasping at the natural dip of my waist and sliding down to the band of my pajama pants at my hips. They linger for a bit, ghosting across the delicate, striped skin there. I twitch. My stomach clenches.
Please don’t…
Harry’s eyes meet mine and I’m biting my lip, fighting back my giggles. He smirks knowingly at me. “No, Harry.” I state with a waveringly warning tone. His fingers move just a hair, and my body tenses again. Without another beat, Harry tickles my sides furiously, making me shriek and laugh uncontrollably as his hands attack my sides. This seems to amuse him greatly as he refuses to pull back for another solid 10 seconds or so. Eventually, his tormenting concludes and I’m left with breathless titters. At this point, he confesses, “Ugh, your laugh makes me hard…feel what you do to me, Bunny.” He gently takes my hand and presses it against the front of his pants. I wrap my hand around him as best as I’m able to and stroke him a few times until he denies me of any more groping. We are both aching for that skin-on-skin contact that dry humping feels painfully futile. Harry resumes undressing me and manages to rid my wiggling legs from their modesty. All that remains to shield my lower half is a dainty pair of pink panties. I reach down and adjust them, smoothing the waistband across my thumbs and letting the elastic snap up high on my hips. Fuck yesss! I internally cheer. Past-Y/N thankfully chose hot-girl underwear this morning instead of granny panties! Harry is too distracted burying himself in my tits to notice, but in due time…soon Daddy will appreciate his Bunny’s adorable lil’ undies.
The dark melody of his voice tugs me back down to Earth—back to the feral man below me who has become addicted to the taste of my flesh. “Tell me…” He breathes out in between licks and bouts of suction. “...Tell me how hard you want Daddy to fuck you, baby.” I let out a whimper, feeling the dripping walls of velvet between my thighs pulse and squeeze around nothing. My response is delayed due to my fucked-out mind shutting out my thoughts. “However you’ll take me, Daddy.” I purr mindlessly. Harry’s hold on my throat returns without warning, and I blink rapidly as my tits jiggle from the abrupt movement. I barely dip back into reality, just enough to notice the way his hard rings are bruising my skin. His other hand travels south. He tickles across the peach fuzz on my tummy and I helplessly giggle out loud at the sensation.
“Yeah? Whatever I want?” He flashes his signature boyish smirk up at me, his eyes providing me with the most familiar yet intimate flash of ethereal green I’ve seen today, before resuming his descent for my sodden center. His fingers finally reach my clenched thighs. And clenched they are. He grunts, growing aggressively impatient once more, as he sponges sloppy kisses along my jawbone. “Open.” The word barely a mumble humming into my skin. “Open up f’me, love.” I whine and rub my thighs together. “Mm-mm…” I’m pathetically desperate for the slightest amount of friction against my clit, so thankful at this time that my thighs are as plush as they are. “Quit y’whinin’.” He mumbles against my cheek. His palm smacks the exposed skin of my outer thigh, and Harry pulls back to watch as my flesh jiggles from the sudden contact. The sight seems to arouse him. “Fuck…” As if out of raw, sexual instinct, he grabs at me there—pulling me and tilting my body so that he can see more of my backside—and then he releases his hand before sending it back down to slap the side of my ass, rubbing and squeezing onto it in admiration afterwards. “…This ass…fuck…fucking perfect, you know tha’...?” He lays me back down and grabs ahold of the front of my pillowy thigh with his hand, trying to gently separate it from its twin. “…Spread your sweet thighs f’me and I’ll make it feel better, baby...” He assures, giving me all the sugar in his voice just before he continues with a darker tone directly into my ear, raking his teeth down my neck. “...I promise I’ll make it all better.”
Our lust-shrouded eyes then lock onto one another. I choose to obey and shakily open myself up to him. He groans at his new view: A scrap of thin, baby pink cotton protecting my most sensitive bits. The pastel is flawless except for one large damp spot near my center. I was right—I’ve soaked right through. If it were any other situation, I’d try my best to retreat and hide myself away in shame. This isn’t one of those situations. Nay. I need Harry to see how miserable I am without his cock inside me. I need him to see the power he has over my pussy. His determined fingertips slide down to the dainty fabric to perform slow, vertical swipes across my entire slit. They press and rub—up and down…up…and down…until he’s got me humming and cooing from his touch, and eventually bucking my hips as well, at which he stills immediately. His calloused fingers rest firmly against the dampest spot on my underwear. I can feel him threatening to push his digits deeper—to disregard the flimsy, cloth barrier altogether and just plunge in. I can’t help but to squirm and mewl beneath him. I want more, more, more, so fucking badly. It all feels torturous now. Every move he makes turns my dial to the direction of mindless submission.
“I…I want you to use me now, Harry...p-please.” I whimper meekly. “Please just—” A hot gust of air quickly exits his flared nostrils. His touch parts away from my center for just
a second in order to deliver a rough spank against the moist cotton. I flinch and squeak at the abrupt punishment, my knees instinctively closing in. Harry puts a stop to them as if he’d been expecting this kind of response and splays me wide open, shoving himself between my thighs to hold me in position. “—What did I just fucking tell you?” “Mnnhh!” I whine, dragging it to emphasize my restlessness and to enunciate my desperate excitement for him. “No, none o’tha’. Be a good girl ‘n use your words.” I huff out in defiance and squirm under him, trying to pull him down to me by clutching his shirt. I can’t help that I’m throbbing and impatient. But he doesn’t find my uncooperation to be very warranted. Harry wants to tame me, not enable me.
Well, boo. 😣
“Fine. Be a brat. But brats get less privileges.” He leans back and unbuckles his belt, yanking it out of his pants and snatching my wrists. The leather tightens around them and my arms are pinned above my head. “Do not touch me unless I tell you to. Understand?” His voice has returned to its demanding inflection once more. I slowly nod. Instantly, he hits my cheek with an open hand, and I gasp at the growing sting. The slap was harder this time. That same hand then caresses my sore skin gently and he hums to try and comfort me. He softly kisses my cheek and speaks against it. “Your pretty face is getting all red, baby. You’ve gotta listen t’me, alright?” I sniffle, trying not to cry, and I bow my head, gathering the strength to apologize right afterwards. “Mm, Daddy…I-I’m sorry.” He smiles down at me once I find the courage to lift my chin and face him again. It’s contagious, and I mirror him without hesitation. “Oh, my sweet girl. You’re so beautiful, y’know tha’? So perfect…Hm, almost…” He sighs, smoothing his hand through my hair. “…All you need is my cock inside you.” I instantly moan, and I nod repeatedly at his last statement. “Mmhh, I want it so bad.” I whisper. He stops and chuckles bitterly. “Oh, I know, Bunny. You’re a needy little slut for me. Trust me. I know. But guess what? I’ll fuck you whenever I want. It’s not up to you.”
Ope…Mean Harry is back.
“Oh, I-I didn’t mean to upset you—” I frown when he laughs and interrupts me. “—That’s a fucking lie.” He punctuates with a rough thrust against my damp panties, staying pressed to me for a few seconds and panting. He pulls back to snarl at me. “You love it when I’m angry. I bet that’s exactly what you think about when you’re in here stuffing your fingers inside your dripping cunt.” He adds effect by giving my sodden pussy another quick spank. I gasp and blink at him, shocked. I mean…he’s not wrong. “I knew it…you want to be thrown around like the whore you are. You like it rough.” I whine, lifting my leg up and trying to hook it around Harry so I can pull him down to me. I need to feel him. But he catches my knee and pushes it up so it’s bent up to my chest, really pinning me down. “Are you truly as brainless as you look?” I shake my head at him as my face turns sullen. “You’re jus’ a stupid lil’ slut, aren’t you, Bunny…” He’s not asking, and I know that. And yet I still shake my head to deny his accusation anyway. My naivety amuses him. He reaches out and pinches my cheek. “You’re so cute and dumb. But I’m sure y’think you’ve got the beauty and the brains, hm?” He laughs and taps his index finger against my temple to illustrate. I bat my wispy lashes and sulk. “But you don't…jus’a stupid, cock-hungry bimbo.” He chuckles. “You do a terrible job at keeping quiet, ‘Bun…S’pitiful, really, how desperate you are to get fucked.” His hands wander down my body again, this time with a harsher touch. I just lay silently and take everything he gives me. “Thought I’d never say a fucking word, didn’t you?” With both hands, he pinches my nipples and pulls until my mouth opens with a gasp. He then lowers his head down and sucks onto my tongue. I moan, pushing myself upwards to try and get more of him. But he shoves me back down by my shoulders and grunts. “Can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t say anything when you go fucking yourself silly with those cute little toys you hide in your drawer…” He sits up on his knees and unbuttons the rest of his shirt, then unzips his pants, pushing them down far enough so that his erection is no longer strained by his tight trousers. The material of his boxer briefs has a wet patch near his tip and my nails dig into the belt wrapped around my wrists. He kicks his pants the rest of the way off and grips his length with one of his aggressive hands. “…While I’m right next door jerking this big, hard cock as you make a goddamn mess of yourself in here…” I moan at the sight of him—his bare abdomen now exposed as his dress shirt hangs on his shoulders, rolled up at the elbows. He traps me in with his hands cradling my head, then pulls down at my chin with his thumbs to signal for me to open my mouth. “…With my name on your tongue…” He spits and lets the saliva drip down into my mouth. Once it lands, he clutches my face with one hand and whispers, “Swallow.” I do as he says. “Mm, good girl.”
“And what’s with you bein’ so quiet today, huh? I’m used to you always runnin’ this mouth. I should start putting it to better use, hm? Shut you up by fucking your throat and jus’ come all over your pathetic face. Would that teach you?” My heart is pounding relentlessly in my ears. My lips separate in an attempt to release some sort of verbal response. It’s no use, though. I’m frozen and speechless. He sees my gaped mouth as an opportunity to shove two of his long fingers inside. I instinctively purr at finally having my oral fixation satiated, closing my lips and suckling. His skin tastes faintly of my own essence, but also of him. He’s literally got me wrapped around his fucking fingers. But I can’t say I’m mad about it. My body is shaking with anticipation. I need him. “Such a spoiled brat, y’know tha’? I’m bein’ much too nice to you…” He slaps my cheek with his other hand. “…I don’t think you even deserve my cum. But you’re just a pretentious little princess who's got empty holes needing to be filled.” My sight has gotten all watery and blurry. I’ve never been spoken to like this before. He pouts mockingly. “You poor baby…You’ve never been properly fucked, have you? Basically a virgin.” He groans out at his own revelation. “God…probably so tight…I’m gonna fucking ruin this cunt, baby.” I suck his fingers deeper, slurping on them while drool leaks out and I gaze wantonly at Harry. “Aw, look at you…sucking on me for dear life…I love seeing how badly you need it…” My eyes roll back at his insults. “What would our friends say if they saw you like this, hm? I wonder if they know how much of a filthy whore you are…how much you’ve begged for my cock to fill you…‘Should be ashamed of yourself, Bunny.”
“Mmhh…” I wordlessly hum against his hand.
He pulls his wet digits down—smearing my lower lip and chin with my spit.
Harry smirks at my glassy-eyed stare. “…Mm, you love this, don’t you? You love it when I’m mean.” I swallow some of the excess saliva on my tongue and lay my head back, closing my eyes. And he says I’m the tease…Fuck, I wanna see that cock already. I wanna FEEL it, goddamnit!
“Please, Daddy…I want you.” I whimper, feeling my throat ache as if I’m close to starting the waterworks just to get some dick around here. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. I know.” He stamps light kisses down my neck. The lips that graze across my hypersensitive skin linger. Harry inhales deeply through his nose, nuzzling his face into a pile of my long ringlets. Lowering his pitch to a soft whisper, he professes, “You’ve always had me, Bunny. And you’ll always be mine.” My lashes flutter as a wave of goosebumps trickles down my back and I struggle holding in a sob at his confession. I hum, nudging my face against his for his attention. He peers up at me with those lively green eyes now, as just Harry, and I tentatively lower my arms—still bound by his belt—downwards until my wrists are behind his neck. Before I even have the forethought of taking the lead, his lips are covering mine. The warmth this kiss exudes isn’t just physical. It’s a kiss that serenades three words into my heart without making a single sound. We’ve made a silent understanding of who we are—who we will be—he and I.
Because this is mine and Harry’s house…and Harry’s finally home.
Our lips release slowly, our shallow breaths mixing together as we stare at one another in silent adoration. Harry nuzzles my nose with his and mumbles for me, “Y/N?” Don’t get me wrong, I love his little nicknames for me. But hearing the drawl of his voice as he says my name…it hits different, y’know? “Yeah?” I rasp, swallowing the croakiness in my throat. He removes my arms from around his neck and begins unbuckling the belt. My brows pull together as I’m watching my wrists find freedom. “W-why—?” Harry interrupts me before I finish my question. “—I want you to be able to touch me, sweetheart.” The affirmation comes out whilst he kisses the faint marks where the belt bit into my delicate skin. I breathe a sigh of relief. “Oh…” Then Harry finishes his statement that I didn’t realize needed to be finished. “Because… unless you push me off right now, I won’t stop fucking you until you make me a real daddy.” I lay beneath him with my mouth agape, eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed…and there go the lazy kegels again. He wants to breed me.
Both of our mothers are gonna be pissed if he doesn’t put a ring on my finger first…but there’s no way in hell I’m pushing him off of me. I’d never push him off. Of course I want this. Does he want this?
“A-are you s—” “—I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life, Y/N.”
Either I’m an impossibly slow talker, or he’s incredibly impatient. Stop fucking interrupting me…also, why are we still tALKING?!
I blink at him and try to suppress my smile. My hands slip their way up his smooth chest and brush up through his perfectly disheveled hair. I’m marveling at how my gentle fingers cause his body to shudder and arch into me. I watch him as he’s breathing heavily above me, eyes hooded, mouth parted, and I glance down at his underwear and see that the wet spot is twice its previous size. Not to mention, the throbbing appendage kept inside is visibly twitching and jerking in its confines. I know I shouldn’t taunt the man, but my hands are busy…
“Awe, Daddy, you’re so hard for me, you’re almost as wet as I am.” I giggle. Harry’s eyes snap open and his brows ruffle with a furocity I suddenly recognize as dangerous territory. It seems I haven’t learned my lesson after the first time I poked the bear. My fingers halt their massaging. “Uh-oh.” I gulp. Sliding my hands down his neck and resting them on his shoulders, I await my scolding. With visible agitation, Harry grits, “Uh-oh is right, Bunny…Now flip over.” I hesitate, giving him a pleading look.
Was he serious about that being my last opportunity to tap out of this?
“Now!” I gasp and struggle to turn onto my stomach as he looms over me, caging me in with his arms. But I manage to wiggle around and awkwardly fall onto my front. My hair tickles my face. What now? Ouch, my boobs…ugh…my shirt is all twisted around my arms and back. Goddamnit. Harry laughs at me and my obvious discomfort, then carefully sweeps all my hair away from my face and neck. I sigh, turning my head to peek up at him expectantly. Holding my hair in his fist, he leans down—pressing his clothed erection into my ass. “Lemme ask you something, did you honestly think you were gonna slow me down with that silly resisting act earlier, hm? Sayin’ ‘No, please, stop, Harry,’ ” he mocks, using an exaggerated high-pitched voice to rudely impersonate me. “As if you’re not frothing at the mouth for my cock…” Laughing cruelly, he roughly yanks me up onto my hands and knees and forces my back to arch by pulling my head back by my hair. With his free hand, he grabs and gropes at my panty-clad ass. I can feel it jiggle as he plays around with it. “...My God, you’re a terrible liar. You only made me want you more.” I clench my inner walls, fighting against the wave of hot arousal drizzling out from my pussy lips, further drenching the crotch of my panties.
As I squeeze the plush of my thighs closed to remedy my achy clit, I’m hit with a sharp pain on my right buttcheek. I wail out in shock as another slap comes down hard onto the left shortly afterwards, the cool air of the room stinging my burning skin. “Such a bad bunny…pretending to deny me what’s rightfully mine…” Another lash, this time on my outer thigh. He wraps the length of my hair around his fist and pulls until my back touches his chest. The bottom hem of my baggy t-shirt slowly slips down and falls to cover my naked breasts, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry. He bites my ear and gropes me harshly over the fabric. His fingers pinch and rub one of my nipples through the rough cotton, coaxing a loud mewl out of me. “Mmmmmhhheeeee!” I squirm and writhe, but that just angers the man. “…Let me get this through your silly little-girl brain, all right?” I nod my head. “Please, tell me, Daddy.”
He’s silent for a beat.
I think consistently obeying him caught him off-guard this time. My mouth twitches and I force my smirk down with a bite to my lower lip. Sensing him expecting it, I carefully begin rotating my head to steal a glance at Harry. His tight grasp on my hair allows for me to do so, of which when I finally do make eye-contact, he closes in from the side and gives me a heated kiss, holding my face between his thumb and forefinger. When he releases my lips, he still keeps me in place with that hand and stares closely into my eyes whilst declaring, “I own you.” I gaze back unblinkingly, losing my ability to function the more I allow his engorged pupils to dilate. Just as my corneas burn and I tear up, he kisses me again and drops me back onto my hands and knees. Blinking my dazed eyes brings me back to reality—reminds me that I need to arch my back and present my ass for Harry.
Both hands grasp at my ass now. And both seem to have a plan as they slowly slide up and down my curves, shoving my t-shirt up my back and gently squeezing every part of me that’s squishable. “How dare you attempt to refuse me—to not consent to me—as if you have a bloody fucking choice…?!” His voice booms throughout the room and he snatches my hair once again. “...How…” *Slap!* *Yelp!* “...Fucking…” *Slap!* *Squeal!* “...Dare you…” *Slap, slap, slap, slap!* A gasp escapes my throat and I squeak at the man. “I-I’m sorry, Daddy! I’m sorry!” My bottom lip quivers and my image blurs with hot tears. Fuck. The reddening flesh of my ass and thighs is then unexpectedly met with gentle caresses and the slippery, wet mouth of my disciplinarian. He lets my hair fall down my back in loose curls and I shakily lift my upper half up by my weak arms to see what Harry’s up to. He’s covering my inflamed backside with healing licks and kisses. If the air didn’t sting so badly when his cooling spit was exposed to it, I’d find this to be comforting. However, I’m still very much feeling my punishment.
That’s not to say I didn’t like it…
His nimble fingers slip under the waistband of my pink panties, pulling them down whilst kissing down my raw skin and cooing. I suck in a breath as the fabric is finally removed from my slit. I don’t even care at this point, but I do feel a tad bit prouder knowing that I’d used up a waxing coupon and got the whole shebang just a couple days ago. I’m such a lucky bunny with my timing. My underwear is slowly slid off my feet and onto the floor, and without another beat, I feel a warm tongue flatten over my clit and slick itself all the way up to my ass. A strangled moan escapes my throat and my upper body collapses down onto the bed—leaving my knees bent and spread for Harry to dive head-first. And that, he does. He slurps and sucks on my cunt like he’s drinking the juice of a sacred fruit that he’s never tried before. As if this is his first and only chance to sip the nectar of the rarest bloom in this lifetime. He doesn’t even waste his time fucking me with his fingers, his hands are too preoccupied spreading me open and groping me all over. There’s no room for them anyway when his tongue or his nose is shoved deep inside me as he pushes my body deeper into the mattress. “Oh, God!” I gasp. Harry hums against my clit and sucks on it, making me repeat myself. “Oh, GOD! YES!”
“Mmm, yeah, scream f’me, baby.” He groans between sucks and lappings. I roll my eyes. Bastard. I decide to take the insult back when his ravenous tongue skims up my crack and circles the tight ring there. “Auhhh…fuuuuck...” I moan. That shouldn’t feel as good as it does…I’ve never been into butt stuff before…and yet, here I am—my ass spread wide open by, well, the love of my life who’s eating me like he’s working to find the center of my tootsie pop—almost considering the possibility…
…I hate this man.
He journeys back down to my leaking pussy, flicking my clit with the very tip of his tongue back and forth so effortlessly fast that my whole body quivers. It’s such a light touch, but in an area so stimulating that it’s tightening that coil inside me in record time. My breath is uneven and shaky. My legs wobble and are threatening to squeeze closed around his face. I’m debating whether it’s worth it to reach behind me and just shove his face into my cunt so I can have some relief…but I know better than to make a dumb move like that. Instead, I push back against his tongue and wiggle my hips with a desperate whine. “Mmmmhhh Daddy, pleeeease!”
But to my chagrin, he ignores me entirely. I’m clenching and unclenching my vaginal walls, pathetically pleading for him to give them something to hold onto. Anything. Fuck—even my ass is pulsing for attention now. “Ughhh!” My groan is muffled by the duvet, but I make a point to drag it out. Finally, I receive a reaction from Harry. His tongue takes a hiatus, my clit is relieved from its torture, and I’m roughly tugged around until I’m flat on my back.
“Mmmhh nooo! Wait!” I whimper, pouting whilst I watch him wipe my wetness off his face with the panties he’d tossed aside earlier. They were already soaked through, but now all the material has my musky sweetness covering it. He smirks. “These are mine now.”
I huff and cross my arms over my chest with a scrunched up face. He lets out a guffaw and combs his fingers through his messy, silky hair. “Hm, is my sweet Bunny mad that I didn’t make her come?” He taunts, climbing back onto the bed and atop of me. I stay still and silent. Once a brat, always a brat. I don’t know what to tell ya…
Harry gently wraps his hand around my throat and squeezes. “I know you’re just a brainless bimbo, but do you remember what Daddy said about using your words, baby?” His voice is all low and silky, and it’s not fucking fair because that makes being a stubborn bitch a lot harder. Damnit. And my nipples are hard again. I just want him inside me so fucking badly that I’m close to having a mental breakdown. I’m not even joking anymore. I’m ovulating and I’m hormonal and I’m hornier than any other literal bunny rabbit on this fucking planet. I’m never going to get fucked, am I? It’s all just another silly little dream of mine, isn’t it…and Harry Edward Styles will be the death of me.
I blink back tears. I sniffle and shut my eyes tightly. Harry’s eyes follow the tear’s slippery path down my cheek until it drips onto his hand. He can’t tell if he’s actually hurt my feelings this time. By the looks of me, he thinks he has. My strewn panties beg to differ. He frowns down at me and rubs soft swirls against my clit. “You want me to use this pussy, sweetheart?” The way he proceeds is somewhere between loving and condescending. He leans back, ditching the remnants of his clothing, and finally unleashes the pulsing appendage from the prison that was his boxer briefs. It’s shiny and dark pink. Staring at it and drooling seems to be all I can do at the moment. He returns to me and carefully lifts my t-shirt over my head and removes it altogether. The two of us are completely bare now.
I probably shouldn’t be as into this as I am…I should feel wary of what’s about to happen. I should be looking for a condom. But I can’t. I won’t. I want him to have his way with me, raw. The right way. And I’m gonna give him a baby.
The atmosphere in the room has changed. The natural light that had been peeking through my blinds earlier is no longer present as the sun has now set. My room is only illuminated by faint fairy lights hanging above us, casting a soft glow upon Harry’s skin. They just barely reflect through his eyes as he looks down at me, and I gaze up at him. He takes my thick legs and bends them at my knees, holding them up by the creamy bottoms of my thighs so that my pussy is completely exposed to him. Exposed in all its natural glistening beauty. My hair is splayed out on the bed whilst his curls fall, and others stick with sweat, down his forehead.
All I hear is the sounds of our breathing and my own heartbeat as it echoes in my ears. His hips move forward, the foreskin of his cock already pulled back, and the head taps my clit. Both of us watch as a string of his precum keeps us connected when he bobs his dick up and off my skin. Harry then settles himself at my dripping entrance, teasingly pushing just the tip in and out. This prodding is immediately met with faint, wet, squelching noises. I glance back up to Harry and see that his eyebrows are pinched together with carnal amusement and pleasure. But I can’t take this any longer. Pure sin has consumed every rational thought in my brain. “Make yourself a daddy, Harry.” Whispering those words and fluttering my eyelashes up at him are the only invitation he needs to lunge into pure chaos. And within the next second, he thrusts his hips forwards and effortlessly sheathes his entire length inside of me. I choke on the moan in my throat and my eyes roll back. “Ohhh…so tight, baby. Feel so…fucking good.” I can feel his cock throbbing inside me, like he’s fighting off his orgasm just after the first pump. He pulls out completely and pushes all the way back in, slowly picking up his pace. In a needy frenzy, I’m lifting my hips to meet his—fucking myself on his cock. “Fuck…you’re amazing…I should’ve done this the night I fucking met you, goddamnit,” he grunts. I nod repeatedly, having a difficult time putting words together. “Ugh, yes, you should’ve—fuck—you should’ve…oh, my God!” His eyes darken and I feel his hand collide with my cheek, making me gasp and grind upwards so my clit rubs against his pelvic bone. “Oh my god, yes!” I moan, throwing my head back. “Fuck!” I’ve turned ravenous at this point. His earlier statement describing me as brainless is now strengthening in integrity with every slick push inside me. “How dare you…how fucking dare you hide this body from me? You’re mine…” He’s practically growling in my ear. “…Mine…”
“…All…” *thrust* “…Of this…” *thrust* “...is…” *thrust* “…mine…” *thrust* He articulates between hard bucks of his hips. I whine and pout up at him, my breasts bouncing to and fro with every harsh slap of his skin against mine. “You filthy little bitch…always fucking yourself with your tiny fingers until you’ve bloody passed out…forcing me to come on myself when you’re just a room away…when you’ve been begging f’me through the wall…” He groans and hits my other cheek briskly. “…Sayin’ my name over ‘n over again like I’m not even there…it’s extremely rude of you, innit, Bunny?” I nod my head the best I can and whimper out, “Yes-s. You’re ri-ight. I-I’m sorry, D-Daddy…I’m s-sorry, Harry-y.” Harry scoffs and buries his face down between my jiggling tits, licking and sucking and biting all over them. He then pulls his face away and slaps both of them, back and forth, watching them bounce and redden from the impact. “You’re just a set of holes for me to come into whenever I want, aren’t you? Just a babbling little fucktoy…wanting me to toss ya ‘round and fuck you senseless.”
“Ohhh-my-god-yes!” I’m in absolute, utter bliss right now. Every hit of his palm, every toss of his hips, every time he degrades me—it all makes my lower tummy spark. The state of ecstasy I’m in is so strong that I don’t even have control over my body anymore. I’m pleading and begging and praising, grabbing and pulling and squeezing, all as if my limbs are possessed and the words I speak are merely from the voice of my subconscious. It’s all so chaotic—yet, the intimacy and closeness of our two bodies is so cohesive. It’s real. It’s emotional. It’s us.
This is how I’m meant to be fucked. This is what I’ve always needed. No one has ever exceeded every need the way that Harry is right now. And Harry has never felt so needed…So powerful. He wants to be this close to me for the rest of his existence. The sweet notes of my perfume mixed with the natural aroma of both our sexes are healing emotional wounds better than tea and honey cure a sore throat. I’m his, finally his.
His drenched cock ruthlessly stretches my sloppy-wet hole. Every plunge earns him another gush of hot juice that just seeps out from my lips as if I’m melting an ice cube inside of me. “I’m gonna fucking come…” he moans out, sweat dripping from his hairline. I squeeze around him. I’m close too. “…Fuck, Bun’…gonna pump all my cum inside this pretty cunt. That’s what you’ve always wanted, yeah? Want me to get y’knocked up?” My back arches off the bed. “Please…” He lowers his head down to suck on one of my nipples. “…Yes! Please come in me. Fuck…please! I’ve been so good for you, Daddy…” Harry lets my tit go with a ‘pop’ and grunts animalistically. “Mmm, you think you deserve it? Think you’ve earned my load, huh?” He ends his sentence with a single hard thrust and holds his hips still until we both are panting and dying to keep fucking—thus only lasting a few seconds before he’s rocking his hips furiously once more. I cry out, “Please come inside me. Give me all of it. Please, please, please!” Hot tears are actually streaming down my cheeks, cascading down to my neck, and some even dripping onto my bouncing breasts. Harry doesn’t let them go to waste, diving down to lap up the drops and trace the salty trails up my neck with his tongue. The strong grip of his ringed hand covers my throat. “You’re so pretty when you cry, Y/N.” He sighs and kisses my wet cheeks. “You’re gonna give me a baby.” I’m gonna give him a baby. “Let me give you a baby, Harry.” His hips stutter. “Oh my god, I love you.”
He pounds into me almost at a violent pace. The smacking of my fleshy thighs against his hips sounds so clearly like fucking. So desperate. So hard. Both of us swimming upstream, and gladly drowning in our own oceans of pleasure. I scream out and weakly grasp my dainty fingers around the front of his neck—mirroring his grip on mine–and I pull his face down so I can press my lips to his. The jerking of his hips becomes labored. The rhythm is sloppy. I can feel him twitch and pulse inside of me. “I love you,” I gasp against his lips.
The dam breaks. He curses and moans and juts his hips up into me mercilessly as if his life depends on it. His cum shoots out in long spurts, coating my womb with sticky white seed. I can feel each jet of release as it overflows me and drips down my ass, and a burst of cum hits my most sensitive spot. My own orgasm is triggered abruptly. I don’t even register my fingers reaching down to start rubbing my swollen clit. My pussy tightens around Harry like a vice and milks him for every last drop as he slowly pumps in and out of me, watching his cum-covered dick slide effortlessly while he chuckles and moans—still so turned on even in the aftermath of our debauchery. Within seconds, his entire body falls and his face buries itself in my hair. His cock is still sheathed deep inside me. It’s barely softened, still throbbing and twitching. Both of us are wheezing for breath. Every muscle has exerted its maximum amount of energy. The bed is our last support, holding the two of us in a pretzel of limbs snugly against its sheets. After a few minutes of breath regulation, Harry carefully pulls himself out of me. His cum then slowly flows out and covers my slit all the way down to my bum and onto the bed. Harry watches and smiles for a moment before looking back up to my flushed post-climax face—my eyelids heavy and a stupid grin on my lips that eventually turns into a giggle fit. The laughter is contagious and Harry ends up following suit.
Seemingly remembering the mess between my legs, Harry rakes a hand through his sweaty hair and looks back down to see his delectably messy creampie. “Oh…Shit. ‘M sorry, Bunny. Hold on.” He yanks himself up and off the bed, still stark naked, and makes haste towards the bathroom. But by the time he comes back with wet washcloths and a towel, I’m making a bigger mess. I’ve got both legs bent up to my chest, two of my fingers fucking his cum back into my pussy and curling up against my g-spot. I squeeze and moan as I climax against my hand, and I refuse to stop at just one. On my back with spread legs, I breathlessly ride my cum-covered fingers as Harry watches in awe. His spent cock flexes in approval of the sight before him. “You’re so fucking hot.” He grunts before dropping everything onto the floor and removing my hand, replacing it with himself. He slicks the underside of his cock up and down my drenched, sticky slit a few times, then pushes back home, making me sob as I orgasm around him again. He slowly grinds his pelvis into mine in a circular motion, ensuring he’s at his deepest point. Suddenly, I feel him sucking on my fingers, licking up our combined spend as his pelvic bone rubs my clit in slow strokes. I reach my face up to his for a taste and he grants me full access to his mouth, our tongues swirling together. But I want more. I lick up the last of his cum from my fingers hungrily.
“Ugh. Such a slut…fuck.” He groans, and I feel his cock release a couple more spurts of cum inside me.
A few minutes later, Harry and I are in the shower together. I’m hugging his middle as he slowly massages and rinses the shampoo from my hair with the handheld shower head. “Bunny?” My eyes are closed, enjoying this warm, peaceful wash session. Hearing Harry’s raspy voice makes me instinctually cuddle closer to his chest and smooth my fingertips down his back. “Mmhmm,” I hum against the slippery wing of a swallow. Suddenly, I’m aware of his fast heart rate and I’m no longer at peace. My eyelids pop open. “Harry…?” He releases a heavy sigh and hangs the shower head back up behind me before taking my hair in his hands and gently squeezing the water out. Still not saying a word. Now my heart is pounding. I grab his wrists and look up at him tentatively, but he pulls them down until he can encase my fingers with his. “I…” He hesitates.
Does he regret it now? Is this it? Is this the moment when my heart gets stomped on and shoved down the drain like undesirable mush? I think I’m gonna throw up—“I want you to know that I meant what I said…I love you, Y/N…” His eyes gloss over and he looks up at the ceiling to fight the growing moisture. “…And I know I probably just inseminated you, but—” We both laugh and he blushes. “But, uhm…fuck…I guess it’s a bit awkward to do this in the shower, innit…,” he gives me a lopsided grin, dimples and all. So cute. Whilst I’m distracted by Harry’s beauty, I’m slow to acknowledge how the man is cautiously kneeling down onto the slippery tile. My breath catches. “I, uh…” He clears his throat when his voice cracks. I’m suddenly extremely self-conscious due to the angle change, yet Harry is gazing up at me like I’m some sort of holy angel from the heavens. The foot he’s leaning his weight upon slips a little, and he grabs onto my thigh and I hold his shoulders as he finds his balance. I giggle at the situation—partially because of his clumsiness, and partially because I don’t really know what’s happening. The hot water sprinkles down lightly over the two of us like rain, droplets running down our bodies and the glass walls. Harry slips off his ‘S’ ring and takes a hold of my left hand. “…This is just a placeholder for now…but…Y/N…” He plants a soft kiss on the top of my hand. “…Will you marry me?” Holy fucking shit.
“Oh, so we’re just gonna skip the whole dating thing then?” His face immediately falls. “W-wha—” “—Am I not worth courting, Harry?” I give him my best sulk and he buys it. Ope, I guess I thought he’d call my bluff right away…Gotta shut this down!
I smile brightly and nod. “Fucking-duh, I’ll marry you, silly!” He playfully scoffs at my joke, sliding the too-large-ring on my little ring finger and stands back up to his full height—almost a foot taller than me. I’m then shoved against the back tile wall, one of my legs hiked up and draped over his elbow. I gasp as he enters me without warning. He bucks into me hard, brutal, slow. Each sound that he fucks out of me is louder and higher-pitched than the last. “Yeah, of course you’ll marry me, huh…be a good little housewife f’me…wait ‘til I come home every night so I can fuck another pint of my cum into your tight little twat…would you like that, Bunny? Hm?” I whine and clutch onto his hair with one hand as the other squeezes his strong shoulder. “Yes…it’s already my favorite part of the day…” He chuckles darkly against my lips before biting them. “‘N what’s that, Bun’?”
“Mmmhh…when Harry’s home!” I exclaim weakly, my ass smacking against the wet wall behind me. “Mmm, Harry’s home, baby…Harry’s home.”
______________________________________________________________
Sorry it took forever. I wanted to make it exactly the way I wanted. I hope you liked it.
:) ~ Regan
Taglist:
@daphnesutton
@victoria-styles
@pishhhh20989
@heyyyloverr
@youdontcaredoyou
@jerseygirlinca
#harry styles smut#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles fanfic#harry x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry edward styles#harry smut#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles x plus size reader#harry styles masterlist#harrys house#harrystyles#harrystylessmuttyfics#therealhousewifeofharrystyles#harry styles x curvy reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles series#harry styles dirty fanfiction#harry styles y/n#harry styles fanfic rec#harry styles au#harry styles angst#harry styles writing
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BMWB
Summary: an anon request - “can you do a one shot where y/n is in the band and for some reason Harry and her don't get along and they end up fucking?? Like not enemies to lovers but more or like enemies to fw because they're so good at it ??? Pleaseeeee”
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, lots of arguing, oral (both), fingering, biting, hair pulling, filth
My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.
MAJOR ASSHOLE FRAT BOY HARRY
"One, two, three, four." Harry screams into the mic and bobs his head to the music. I strum my base, close my eyes and tilting my head as I feel the music.
My eyes suddenly snap open when Harry starts to yell, "Stop. Stop. Fuckin' stop." I lay my fingers over the edge of my bass and sigh, "What now, Styles?"
I know he's talking about me, he's always talking about me.
He scoffs and shakes his head, "Are you even here with us right now? Because the he only thing you should be focusing on is getting the beat of the fucking song right. Jesus christ."
I roll and shut my eyes and take a deep breathe, "Harry. Chill out man. She was doing fine." Niall says setting down his guitar, "Maybe you need to ta-"
Harry cuts him off, "Maybe you just need to shut the fuck up."
"If you don't want me to pla-"
Zayn cuts me off, "No, y/n. You're the best bass player we've had, Harry's just having a bad day."
Harry shifts his weight to his left leg and puts his hands on his hips, "You know wh- fine. Take a fucking break, all of you."
He walks off the stage and throws his water bottle.
"What the fuck is his issue lately?" Louis says walking up, "Don't take it personal, y/n. Harry can be.." he trails off his words.
I sigh, "Egomaniacal? Asshole-ish? Cocky? I can stand here all day."
They laugh and I look over my shoulder, "I'll try and talk to him. If the screaming at each other stops call the coroner because I've strangled him with his mic cord."
I set my bass down gently and walk in the direction Harry went.
I look left and right and walk down the hall. I stop as I see Harry leaning against the wall. He turns his head towards me and looks away with an eye roll, "What do you want?"
"I want to know why you're all of a sudden coming at me?" I cross my arms, "We were fine and now yo-"
"Just go practice because you obviously need it." He pushes off the wall and walks towards me. I grab his arm as he goes past me, "No. I don't obviously need that, Harry. What I need, is for you to tell me what the fuck your issue is."
He laughs and tilts his head back, "Like I'd ever talk to you about what's bothering me. Go the fuck back to the stage. We have a show to get perfect."
He pulls his arm away and scoffs, "Don't ever fucking touch me again."
"Don't ever fucking yell at me again." I shoot back.
He stop waking and turns around, "Oh? So now you're the boss? Telling me what I can and can't do?" He walks up to me, "Let me tell you one thing, sweetheart." He leans in, his face an inch away from mine, "I'm the boss. You do what I say when I say it, hmm?"
I roll my eyes at him, "Mm. We'll see."
I step around him and walk back to stage. Before I enter back, I look over at him and smile, "You coming? We have a show to make perfect." I smirk and push the door open.
"Is he dead?" Louis asks with a slight laugh.
I shake my head, "Not yet." I pick my bass up and gently strum the strings. Harry walks in and everyone goes quiet.
"Let's get this fucking right." He says just loud enough for us to hear. He walks up and takes the mic off the stand and looks around at us, making sure we're ready.
"One, two, three, four."
——
"You guys are on in five." Liam, the crew manager says. I nod and finish applying my lipstick, "Okay."
"Don't fuck this up." Harry says leaning against the door frame to my dressing room. I look at him in the mirror, "Is that you threatening me or demanding me?"
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, "Sometimes I just wanna-" he clenches his jaw and tilts his head, "Nope. Not happening."
"What?" I turn around and lean against the table, "You wanna what, Styles?"
He stares at me, and in that moment, if looks could kill. I'd be dead.
He walks up to me and brings a hand up, his thumb gently pulls down my lower lip, "Sometimes I just wanna gag you with my cock so you shut the fuck up for once."
He drops his hand, "Like I said, don't fuck this up."
He leaves the room before I have anything to say, which I don't. Harry just left me absolutely speechless.
"Hey, y/n. Let's go. We're up next." Louis knocks on the door, "You okay?"
I blink and turn around quickly, wiping away the smudge of lipstick Harry's thumb left, "Yeah. Coming."
——
The whole show, I was on edge.
On edge because of what Harry said.
On edge because he looks so fucking hot in that tight Green Bay jersey.
On edge because he kept looking over at me any chance he got.
On edge because he was fucking with me.
We finish the song and the crowd goes wild. Screaming for Harry. Screaming for me. Screaming for all of us.
"Give it up for the amazing band behind me." Harry says while clapping, "Niall, Louis, Zayn.." there's a pause before he says my name and the boys glance towards me then look back at Harry, "And y/n who actually did very well tonight."
The crowd screams and I force a smile and wave.
I shook a glare back at Harry and he smirks behind his mic, "We're going to give you guys one last song and then we're off to Phoenix!"
Harry walks around stage as we start to play the final song of the night, "Let's go!"
——
We exit the stage and I immediately walk up to Harry and shove his shoulder, "What the fuck was that?"
He cocks his jaw and smirks, "I know you didn't just shove me."
I go to shove him again and Zayn grabs my arms, "Settle down." I pull my arms and he gets louder, "Settle down, easy y/n."
"Why would you fucking say that?" I yell, "I actually did well tonight? What the fuck Harry!?"
He chuckles and shakes his head. He motions for Zayn to let me go and he puts his arm around my shoulder, "Let's take a walk and talk about this."
I push his arm off of me, "What so you ca-"
"Now, now." He cuts me off, "Just come on." We walk down the hall to the door with his name on it, "In."
I roll my eyes and push the door open. I walk in and turn around, ready to start losing my absolute shit on him but he holds his hand up, "I get under your skin."
"Yeah the fuck you do." I cross my arms, "And you do it on purpose."
He walks over and pours himself a drink, "Because you make it so easy."
"By what? Giving you a reaction?" I huff, "Do you want me to ignore you? Quit the band?"
"Why would you quit the band?" He asks bringing the glass to his lips. He lowers it and shakes his head, "You're the best bass player I've had, y/n. I don't want you to quit."
His words confuse me and I know my face shows it.
"He sits down and rests one arm straight out on the back of the couch and brings a leg up over his other, "Sit."
I find myself always listening to his stupid little commands so I shake my head, "No. I'll stand." He chuckles, "Hmm. Okay. Suit yourself, sweetheart."
I roll my eyes, "What do you want, Harry." I state, "Because if you're just going to sit there and-"
"You. I want you."
"Excuse me?" I laugh, "Did you just say you- you want me?"
He nods, "Yeah. I believe that's what I said."
"You're not serious."
"But I am." He finishes his drink and stands up, "You see, y/n. I really don't like you, for reasons I'm not open to telling you just yet." He sets his glass down and walks over to me.
I stay silent and watch him as he gets closer, "We have our issues that, well, the whole band can see, right?"
I shrug, "I-"
"Shut up." He says louder. His voice goes back to normal and he walks around me, his chest presses against my back and he moves my hair off my neck.
My breathing gets faster and I bite my lip.
"There so much stress while touring, right?" His fingers drag up my shoulder and neck.
I nod.
"I want you to be my little stress reliever." He leans down and licks up my neck, "No strings attached."
I shut my eyes tight. Fighting off every urge to turn around and give into him.
He's an asshole.
He makes your days a living hell.
He gets under your skin in the most annoying ways possible.
All the thoughts run spin around in my head and I let out the breathe I've been holding.
"What do you say? Huh. We help each other out and when you piss me off.. I get to fuck my anger out and fuck that annoying little attitude out of you."
I want to say no so bad. I want to turn around and slap some sense into him, but the idea of being Harry's fuck buddy is just so overpowering.
"You can speak now, sweetheart."
"Y-yes."
"Good answer. Now get on your knees." He places his hands on my shoulder and pushes me down. I land on my knees and bite my lip, looking up at him as he walks around to stand in front of me.
He starts to undo the belt on his jeans and he gives me a smirk.
"What?" I ask as I tuck hair behind my ear.
"Do I make your nervous?" He chuckles, "No need to be nervous."
I roll my eyes, "Please. If anyone should be nervous here, it's you."
"How's that?" He asks shoving his jeans down, "I'm not nervous one bit. Excited actually."
I raise my eye brows and laugh slightly, "Why because you're about to shut me up?"
"Exactly." He pushes his boxers down and pumps his cock in his hand a few times before pushing the head of it against my lips, "Open for me."
I part my lips and he pushes his cock in, letting out a groan.
I wrap my lips around his cock and swirl my tongue. I work my way down, getting him wet enough, teasing him slightly before I give him exactly what he wants.
I sink his cock into my throat and he moans.
I shut my eyes and control my breathing through my nose before I bob my head, gagging around his cock.
"Ah." He moans out, "It's nice to hear the sound of you choking on my cock rather than you speaking."
I ignore his words and continue to fuck my throat with him, working him up until he places a hand on my head, "A-alright. We can come back to this. I wanna see that ass of yours bent over."
I pull off and wipe my chin off with my wrist. He pulls me over towards the couch and slips his shirt off. My eyes flicked up and down his toned, tattooed torso and he grips the hem of my shirt pulling it up over my head.
"You know, y/n." His eyes move up and down my bra covered chest, "You are pretty fuckin' hot."
I smirk and unbutton my jeans, "So are you."
He smirks and watches as I take my jeans off, kicking my shoes out of the way. We both stand there naked and his hands reach out to explore my body.
I close my eyes as he leans in, sucking random spots on my neck. I moan out quietly and bring my hands up to his arms.
Wow, he isn't yelling at me to not touch him.
His hand moves down and pushes between my legs. His finger slides between my folds, "You're fuckin' soaked, sweetheart."
I part my thighs and dig my nails into his skin as he circles my clit, gradually applying a harder pressure.
I whimper and tilt my head back. Harry kisses and sucks spots under my chin and jaw line.
"Harry." I moan out quietly, "Fuck me."
He chuckles against my skin, "Are you demanding?"
I bite my lip, debating on what I should say before my mouth speaks on its own, "What if I am?"
He sighs and pulls his hand away from between my legs, "Then you get more time without my cock in that desperate cock hungry pussy of yours."
He walks over and gets another drink, "I'm going to enjoy this drink. Sit down and, oh I don't know." He shrugs, "Convince me that you're deserving of my cock going into your pussy."
I chew the inside of my lip and nod, "Okay."
I sit down on the couch and smirk as I bring my legs up and spread them. He pauses and stares at my open legs. I bring my hand down and rub circles onto my clit, moaning.
I need Harry to touch me.
"Afraid you won't get me to cum?" I tease, "Am I going to have to fake it with you then do it myself later?"
He roughly sets his glass down on the table and stands up, "There you go again.. running your mouth."
I bite my lip and sink my fingers into my pussy, letting out a loud gasp, "What? Im just asking questions."
He scoffs, "You have no idea."
"Mm. I think I do." I tilt my head back and moan. A smile grows on my lips as I feel the couch sink down.
"You'll be begging me to fuck you after this." He moves my hand and replaces it with his own, his rings roughly hitting my skin as his fingers pump in and out.
I arch my back off the couch and moan, "Fuck."
He shifts back and bends down, attaching his lips to my clit. I let out a gasp and put a hand on his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair.
He moans against me and that causes me to moan. I clench my walls around his fingers as I feel myself approaching my orgasm.
My eyes roll back and I smile as he did exactly what I wanted him to do.
He pulls his fingers out and licks up my pussy. He pulls away and moves up, rubbing the head of his cock against my clit, "That didn't seem fake to me."
I smirk and my mouth opens as he shoves his cock into me without warning, "Fuck." He smirks and tilts his head as he pulls out and thrusts back in.
He grips my hips tight and fucks me. His lips part as his eyes shit and a moan escapes his lips, "Shit, y/n."
I grab his wrists and arch my back, "Harry." I whimper, "Fuck."
He leans down, pressing his lips to mine as he continues thrusting. I drag my nails up his back with one hand as I pull myself to desperately cling to him with the other.
He gently bites my bottom lip and moans.
I tilt my head back and he kisses up and down it.
For a moment I would have thought I wasn't having sex with the asshole I shoved in the hallway, but with Harry who actual gives a shit.
He moans against my neck and pushes his cock deep into me, "This pussy is mine." He whispers in a deep, raspy voice.
"Yours." I breathe out, "Yours."
He goes back to thrusting and attacking my neck. I wrap an arm around his neck and sink my nails into his shoulder as I cum around his cock.
"Fuck." He groans lowly, "You feel so fucking good."
I whimper in his ear, "You fuck so good."
He smirks and kisses my cheek and over to my lips. Our lips move in perfect sink and he pulls out and I can feel his cum shoot out into my stomach.
He continues to kiss me, his hand pulls my hips closer to his. He slowly leans back and looks at me, "Who's pussy is this?"
I roll my eyes and smirk, "Yours."
"Damn right it is." He leans up and looks around, "Um.." he gets up and grabs a towel, "Here." He tosses the towel down next to me as he cleans himself off.
"Thanks." I wipe myself off and sit up, I lean over and grab my clothes, slipping my panties and jeans back on, "So what does this mean?" I smirk and laugh.
He shakes his head and smirks, "Nothing more than band mates with benefits."
——
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crossfire
in which harry’s urge to party on his 28th birthday results in the harm of his precious girl, and there’s nothing to do but love her at the end of the night
word count: 10.1K
pairing: y/n x mafialeader!h
warnings: near death experience, use of knife and guns, mention of drugs, mentions of crime, explicit content, sex. do not read if you are opposed to anything mafia related, and don’t come at me for it if you don’t like it.
author’s note: this isn’t my best work, in my opinion. this piece felt like giving birth. it took me forever to get out, and i’ve had the worst writer’s block. in this fic, y/n literally lives for harry and it goes against some of my feminist beliefs, but i have to understand that this man literally saved her life. he is her everything. all that happened was meant to. hope you enjoy :D
There are a plethora of unspoken- but heavily enforced- rules in the mafia, and even more so in the morally grey organization Harry leads.
One of those being to show devout levels of respect for the women that are present or closely connected to him, especially y/n given that she is the boss’s girl. This respect, however, went beyond just being polite and allowing her to pass through the door while holding it open for her. It extended to reverence and borderline worshiping the ground she walked on. The men were expected to guard her before anyone else, even Harry. It was something he made sure to tell every single able-bodied, gun-carrying person in his frequently rotating circle of close employees.
Y/n knew this because she had overheard him talking to a neatly lined up row of brawny, tough men before entering a banquet with an extensive amount of businessmen whose affairs extended beyond the corporate world and into the organized crime arena Harry rules over.
“I don’t give a fuck if someone’s got a gun to my head, your first priority should always be y/n, do you understand me? Keep her safe, or kiss your fuckin’ life goodbye.”
His voice had been filled with a viciousness not directed to anyone there, but rather the lingering possibility of what could happen to her if they didn’t do as he said. If she ended up hurt. Or worse. Threats to her life were something that she still had trouble processing, and when these worries were voiced to her lover, he spent long moments with her in his lap, holding her, kissing her, assuring her that nothing would ever happen to her as long as he was there, and even if something were to happen to him, backup measures were set in place so ensure her safety. Soft murmurs against her skin and his fingers dancing across her shoulder blades talked her through her worries and shut each and everyone of them down with swift declarations.
When your partner was the leader of an organized crime ring, paranoia was something you had to deal with, and y/n didn’t always handle it well. Sometimes, an itchy, gnawing sensation akin to the hollow drop of in the stomach while on a rollercoaster, those few seconds spent waiting to reach a solid, stable point again, crept up on her before she had to leave the house. It was something her and Harry actively worked on, discussing in detail what was playing out in her mind, explaining to her what she should do if something ever went wrong (this was always one of two things. The first being to get behind him and let him take care of things, or defend herself, run away to safety or for cover), and even meditating together quietly in the sunroom facing their backyard or underneath a large willow tree outside.
Paranoia was a nasty thing.
And it was creeping on her the night of Harry’s birthday party. He had decided that his second to last birthday before thirty should be spent differently from his others- mostly because he liked to place importance on things that weren’t traditionally that important (because since when was twenty eight an important number?), and partly because in recent days Harry had been overcome with an urge to party. This need would manifest in music blaring from the house speakers at random moments at night- Kendrick Lamar, Drake, and plenty of other rap artists that would make your head bop if you were a twenty year old dude at a frat party. Occasionally, he would switch from the rap genre to disco or 80’s love ballads, and he’d grab y/n’s waist, pull her front to his, and stare deep into her eyes while singing along to I Want To Know What Love is.
When questioned by y/n one night, he had said to her, “I just need to relax, baby. I haven’t partied in so long. I just watch the parties, and it’s fuckin’ sad.”
And a few weeks after that, he made the decision to close one of his clubs for the night, invite all of his business partners, friends, and whatever family that would like to come, and ‘have a hangover before wakin’ up’. Harry had included her in much of the planning, and even let her take over some aspects as well (decorations, food, the guestlist) so that she felt comfortable and safe. The one thing he would not let her have control over was security, the music selections, and drinks. Together, they put together an unforgettable night.
Only, it was unforgettable for all of the wrong reasons.
The day has started off correctly. Harry was all smiles from the moment he bristled away from the clutches of sleep with the help of y/n’s lips around his cock, a murmur of ‘happy birthday, daddy’ thrumming against the sensitive underside of his dick and eliciting a warm spurt of cum to run down her throat. Of course, the favor didn’t go unreturned. As soon as his toes unclenched and his spine shrunk back down from the arch it was in, his fingers uncurled from the fist it had made in her hair and snaked around her waist to tug her up the front of his body. His prick was already hardening between them again as Harry ravaged her mouth, whispering how his first gift from her had been amazing and the second one was going to be even better.
“Love your tight cunt in the morning, princess”
“Is this all for me? Hmm? This is daddy’s pussy isn’t it, baby? Say it”
“Stop fuckin’ squeezing me like that, little girl, or I’ll ruin you”
Afterwards, they climbed out of bed with the goal of showering together, but Harry’s pawing hands crept between her thighs while he sat on the edge of the bed with her between his thighs and caressed her clit until she was shaking with the tremors of her third orgasm, pushing at his hand from being oversensitive.
“No more, please,” she whispered, her words blending in with the woosh of air of her running breath.
“I think y’can give me a few more, baby love. Get in the shower and I’ll show you.” He looked up at her from between his still-sleepy lashes, authority oozing from him even though he was still rumpled from sleep and sex. Any softness that may have possibly . The grip of his hand on her thigh was so strong that her skin was sure to be flushed when they were no longer on her, and the way he languorously looked at her with his desire so blatantly on display without shame sent shiver’s down y/n’s spine.
Even though she knew she would end up crying legitimate tears of pleasure before they even got dry, y/n shyly stood on shaky knees and wobbled over to the bathroom, Harry following so closely she would feel the heat and thickness of him on her backside. A loopy smile graced her lips, her heart sick with love at the feel of his warm, heavy palm gliding softly over the curve of her waist- not quite guiding, just holding.
“I can hardly walk,” y/n protested, her knees buckling to the point where Harry had to dip and catch her with an arm around her shaking body, “I don’t know if I can give you any more, H.”
The tip of his nose grazes her bare shoulder as they walk through the door frame to the bathroom. Or rather, Harry walks and she drags her feet between his own, the pleasure still running through her veins with the added, euphoric feel of his touch adding to her ability to do anything. “You will give me more, baby,” he said in a gruff voice, his lips moving against the back of her neck and he kissed his way to her ear, “y’know why?”
When she didn’t respond immediately, he hummed against her skin, “hmm?”
A moan left with her words. “Why, daddy?”
“Because I fuckin’ want more. Understand me?”
Y/n murmured her response, words incoherent but meaning something along the lines of ‘yes, I understand’. He hauled her into the tub after setting the water to a warm temperature, and settled her between his knees, coaxing her to another climax with his fingers, and then twice on his cock before he released inside of her, tensing as he grunted how much he ‘loved her wet cunt’.
They didn’t have to be anywhere until later on that night at 6pm, so Harry had arranged a relaxed breakfast in their sprawling backyard where no one (expect the guards he trusted to stand at certain positions to keep watch) would disturb their moment of peace, moments that were so rare to come by in his world. His chef, Matilda, a sweet Italian lady that was Tony’s grandmother, worked depending on whether he or y/n didn’t feel like cooking, and considering that it was his birthday, and he wanted to spend every moment of his day with his hands all over his girl, while she gave him all of her attention, none of them would be cooking, and Matilda was downstairs cooking a mixture of Italian and American breakfast foods.
There was an unusual exchange between them, given their roles for the day. One would expect that as the birthday boy, Harry would allow himself to be blindfolded, coddled, kissed, and spoiled. But no, instead, he was the one doing the blindfolding. A large, warm, and ever-present palm on y/n’s waist led her securely underneath the large arc leading from their kitchen to the gardens, where a temporary tent had been set up to cover the table where their steaming breakfast awaited them.
“Harry, where are you taking me?” y/n asked, a breathy laugh tainting her weary sentence. Normally, when the red silk band found its way around her eyes, she was tied down to their bed with his tongue between her legs, and a haughty, mean air to his actions. This time, there was no dominant coldness, only warm chuckles saturated with a cheeky smile that promised a secret.
“You never really are patient, are you, m’love?” He leaned in to press a smacking kiss on her neck, bared by the emerald green satin dress that swathed around her figure like a ribbon, layers of cloth accumulating at her navel before flaring down and collecting tightly at her lower back to display a clear outline of her bum. The shade was the exact color of his eyes, and she had chosen to wear it for that reason. “Just a few more steps. Almost there.”
He didn’t say anything else that might reveal the surprise- his or hers, that was unclear- in hopes that she might smell everything first, and figure it out.
“You’re keeping poor Matilda waiting for way too l- oh! Are we on grass now?” She exclaimed when her feet left the cool tile of their house and met the tickling cushion of well-trimmed grass.
Harry grabbed her hand with his free one, and slowed his walk to accommodate her blind ones, “too many questions, tsk-tsk-tsk. Ask one more and that’s one less orgasm for you tonight.”
“I’ve already had too many this morning, daddy,” y/n responded with a teasing lilt in her tone, smiling in the direction she hoped was his face.
“Watch the attitude, little girl,” he tapped her bum, his voice playfully dropping to a cautious tone before he stopped a few feet away from the breakfast spread before them.
And waited.
Harry watched the way her nose crinkled as it crinkled at it worked, her brows dipping underneath the blindfold while her chin tipped upwards. Smelling the air, almost like a puppy. “Is that food?” She asked, turning to face him the best she could, and huffed through her nose, “can I take this off now?”
Finally conceding, Harry gently untied the loose knot he’d made at the back of her head, running his fingers through her hair as the material slipped away to smooth out any kinks he may have left behind. This was his favorite part, watching her features transform into one of delight- the various facets which he never got tired of creating because it was proof that he was capable of doing something good- before she eventually threw herself into his arms and demanded to be kissed.
Allowing her to marvel at the gauzy fabric of the makeshift pavilion, waving in the wind with in calm turrets of white cotton, Harry smiled down at her, utterly in love as a soft, mushy feeling encompassed him. He loved making her happy. Sharing moments with her in which they were both consumed with such overpowering feelings that they both forgot where they were, who they were, and the only thing that mattered was that they were just two people loving each other.
“D’you like it, angel?” He asked her, wrapping his arms around his arms around her waist and bending significantly in order to be able to rest his chin on her shoulder, nuzzling at the soft skin where before kissing it. “Had to make sure I distracted you enough so they had enough time to set this up,” lining up his mouth at her ear, “can y’pretty pussy forgive me?”
Y/n gasped before dissolving into a nervous fit of giggles, “I-... Harry, I don’t know what to-...”
“Just tell me how much you love it. Y’know how much I love it when you tell me how much y’love what Daddy does for you,” he wasted no time in filling in her trailed off silence, tracing the line of her jaw with the tip of his nose and allowing the hot whisper of his breath to heat her skin, encouraging her flustered state. He was vulgar, sinful, purposefully allowing the most inappropriate words to leave the cave of his mouth because he loved to watch her squirm, and know that he did that, too.
Turning around in his embrace, she wrapped her arms around his neck shyly, flattening her palms on his chest before smoothing them up to twirl the hair at the back of his neck between her fingers. Her face was flushed, her lips twitching with a smile as she muttered, “it’s true.”
Grinning wolfishly, he claimed her mouth in a kiss and then took her hand to help her sit.
They ate their breakfast the way they always did, sitting beside each other instead of across because Harry liked to keep his hand on her thigh when she was near, or anywhere on her, really. And he liked to feed her bits of his food, or take some from hers. Since it was his birthday, and he could do whatever he wanted, he decided that the best way to wrap up his meal would be with something sweet.
Between her legs.
The parts of their day between breakfast and the beginning of Harry’s party dropped by in a saccharine haze, sickeningly sweet as he opted to keep only the company of his girl, and save the birthday wishes from friends for later that night. Y/n’s heart was in a constant state of fluttering, never quite attached to the correct ventricle veins that maintained the organ securely in place. The voice in her head questioned if she should be the one on the receiving end of multitudes of affections- caresses, kisses, frequent heavy petting that left her writhing on a precipice that she never fell off of- given that it was not her birthday, but Harry’s. When she vocalized this concern, he merely licked into her mouth with such ardor that all of her doubts fled the recesses of her mind.
A few hours before they had to head out, Harry announced that he would get ready in their guest room so they ‘aren’t tempted to be late’, and ‘save the final fuck later so her pussy isn’t sore’. Though, and she would never admit this, y/n doubted that there would be anything of the sort happening later that night, if Harry got as hammered as he claimed he wanted to be.
They got ready in their respective bathrooms, and y/n thought it was strange for there to be so much silence as she did her hair. The only noise she could hear was the one coming from her hairdryer, but, what Harry wanted today he would get.
“Darling girl,” y/n heard him call from somewhere down the hall. “Where are you, baby?”
His steps were heavy with the official click of expensive Italian leather shoes, a gift that had arrived a few days ago from one of his business partners. When she questioned him about it, Harry liked to say that everyone whom he did business with was nothing more to him than a ‘shit sack of money to do business with’, and a look of distaste came over him that convinced her completely. Yet… a fond look came over him when he read the short- and y/n thought, quite mean- note that was attached to the elaborate wrapping.
You won’t ever do good things with shitty shoes. Try a pair made from my shoe maker, maybe things will turn around for you.
She had thought that business went well for him, given the life she was so lucky to have, and didn’t understand the meaning of the card until Harry hid his chuckle behind two fingers.
Pinching the bust of her dress and moving it side to side to get it to sit on her correctly, y/n was applying the finishing touches to her outfit, such as her shoes and jewelry. “In here, H!”
“Gotta get goin’, sweetheart. Y’almost ready to go?” Harry called from just outside the bathroom
“Just gotta put on my jewelry and I’m good,” Y/n picked up an earring and removed the back before leaning closer to the mirror.
“Here, let me,” Walking in, he strode right up to where her jewelry was and picked up the necklace she was going to wear, “hold y’hair for me, love. Yeah, jus’ like that.”
“Y’so fucking pretty,” he mumbled into her hair once the clasp was fastened, his hands smoothing over her shoulders and down her arms, pushing the outline of his dick into the crevice of her ass, “it makes m’cock hard.”
“Harry!”
He slapped her bum and left her with enough of a sting that she was sure he had colored her skin. “S’not what I am, t’you, is it little girl?”
“No, daddy. I’m sorry.”
“Better. Now come on, or I’ll be late t’my own party.”
---
Never, not in any lifetime, did y/n think she would ever get to see Harry, in a private room with some old friends and the same partner that sent him the shoes, have a shot every time a certain word came up in a song, and taking turns switchings songs while someone else names the word. It was a game that had been created on the spot, after a margarita made by Fabio, an Italian mafia boss.
She wasn’t participating in the drinking that night, instead looking out for Harry with the help of Tony and a few other men who wouldn’t let her leave their sight- per Harry’s instructions, she was sure. Not that he needed any looking out for. The man could certainly hold his own liquor, but y/n figured that it would be easier if everyone dealt with drunk men, instead of drunk women. She also didn’t feel safe, but would never ruin Harry’s birthday by saying that out loud.
“M’love, please try these margarita’s Fabio made. They’re better than the ones I make for you, n’I know just how you like them,” he said, mouth at her ear at just the right volume so he was heard over a Kendrick Lamar song. She could smell the sweetness of fruit, and the murky smell of tequila. It wasn’t one that she particularly liked, and given that she didn’t like how… grand this all was, she had to fight a pout.
Shaking her head, and smiling sweetly at him, she said, “M’okay, H. Maybe later.” She didn’t want to ruin his night because he hardly ever got to relax, and maybe that’s why this whole ordeal wasn’t sitting right with her. It wasn’t like him to be the one to let his guard down, not in the ‘field he worked in’, as he likes to put it.
He pressed a warm kiss against her temple, smothering his nose into her hair. With his empty hand he hooked the loose hairs around her ear and allowed his nails to lightly scratch the sensitive skin under her jaw before pinching her chin. Turning her head so she was looking right at her, he said, “alright, baby. Y’tell me if y’want something, yeah? M’right here f’you.”
Y/n nodded, and tried to relax in her seat, attempting to forget about the droopy loop in Harry’s eyes. There were armed men stationed at every entry and exit point in the transformed warehouse, but the amplitude of it all was disorienting. This was not his nature.
The four men- Fabio, a magician with margaritas and one of Harry’s Italian business partners, Lorenzo, Louis, Harry’s marijuana distributor in California, Dan, one of Harry’s financial advisors, and Heathrow, a burly, quiet man who didn’t speak much and helped Harry… attain information- all lounged in couches in the velvety room stocked with a fully functional bar which Fabio ran like it was what he did for a living instead of running a drug empire.
“Y/n, piccola biscotti, are you sure you don’t want a margarita? Not even a virgin?” Fabio pushed his white sleeves further up his arms and smiled toothily at her. He didn’t look very menacing that way, with his red curls beginning to spill out of the coif he had styled them into and falling in front of his eyes. The chip on his tooth gleamed with an outline made of gold.
Harry curled an arm around her and pulled her close while looking at her, waiting on her response. “Y’can say no, baby,” her murmured low enough for only her ears.
On any other day she would’ve said yes. But, today? Something was off, and she didn’t want to stomach anything.
“I’m okay, Fabio. Thank you, though.”
“Of course! Anything for Harry’s princesa,” he winked at her, and used a rag near his hand to wipe down the sparkling black marble counter. “So, birthday boy, ready to go out there and get your groove on?”
Harry, apparently too many cups in, threw his head back and laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. It was a laugh y/n mostly heard when they were alone, and she had to hide the flush on her cheeks from her flustered state at his words by looking away. “You’re a corny ass motherfucker, y’know that?”
“Yeah, yeah, and I get high on my own supply, these are things we know already. Can we get out of this hole now? You-” Louis pointed a finger at Harry- “invited too many beautiful women for me not to do anything about it. So let’s get moving!”
Everyone but Harry stood up, and just as y/n was about to push off her seat, Harry tightened a hand on her thigh and waved everyone off, “I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute, need a few with m’girl.”
They all shook their heads, Hearthrow mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like ‘young love’ and followed the rest of the group out of the room. The music from outside pulsed inside the room when they opened the doors, and came to a mute when they closed them again.
When it was just the two of them again, Harry hauled her into his lap and planted a kiss on her surprised lips. A hmph worked its way out of her chest, her hands flying like little birds between them until they settled on his chest.
“Darling,” he said, still kissing her, “what’s wrong?”
“Wh- what do you mean, H? Nothing is wrong,” y/n, too caught up in the shock that Harry had read her so clearly, was unable to deliver a convincing response. Her hands crept closer to his neck, playing with the collar of his shirt.
Reaching up to grab her hands, Harry shook his head and gave her a stern look. The giddy, inebriated man was gone, and her Daddy took his place. He gathered them on his chest, above his heart, “don’t lie to me, baby. You aren’t being yourself. Tell me, so I can fix it.”
“I-” she began.
He squeezed her hands. “I don’t want to hear that you’re fine. Tell me the truth, or we’re leaving and I’m spanking your ass raw.”
“I-” She started again, and she stopped when she saw Harry’s brow quirk into an arch, daring her to lie to him. A threat gleamed in his eyes, and she swallowed. “I just don’t feel really… safe.”
Various emotions played across Harry’s face. Shock. Disbelief. Confusion. A bit of anger, maybe? She can’t really pinpoint them because his eyes are flashing so fast, and then he drops his head back, the veins at the base of his throat pulsing as he inhales deeply and holds it for a few seconds before releasing it.
“Angel,” he rasps, his voice like crackling wood as he looks at again, “do y’know who I am?”
A scrunch appears between her eyebrows. Of course he knew who he was, she had dated him for years. “What are you talking about, H?”
“I mean, darling,” two large hands accompanied with a pinch of cold from the metal on his fingers cup her face, “that you must not know who I am if you feel this way. I’m the leading kingpin of this country’s drug distribution. I run the tightest system of organized crime, and I have more money than God. But first and foremost, baby, I am your lover. Everything I do is to make y’happy, understand me?”
Harry is pinching face now because she had tried to look down at her lap while he was talking and he wanted to make sure they maintained eye contact while he talked. When he didn’t get an answer right away, he shook her lightly, growling, “Said, do you understand me, y/n?”
Pouty and a little teary eyed, y/n mumbled that she understood.
“Now,” he released her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. “There are more than eighty men in and outside of this building whose sole purpose of the night is to protect you. I have four concealed weapons on my person, and y’know I know how to use them, baby. There’s no need to be scared,” his breath, sweet from the smell of margaritas, becomes y/n’s next inhale the moment he drops his forehead onto hers, and it makes her lightheaded with love. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise” his nose is pressing against her with enough force to turn her head to the side, and when he presses his sticky mouth on y/n’s lips, she’s gasping.
The sense of insecurity from before is gone the moment Harry grips her close, his half-hard length hot against the inside of her thigh, and the only feeling left of the heat from the drag of his tongue on her bottom lip, the sting of his palm when he claps her thigh and drags her impossibly closer only to mumble against her lips, “y’ready to go now, or do y’need more reassurance?”
She had no other choice but to say yes, because they would never leave if she said no.
****
No one is passing around a bong, or snorting lines off the glass table in the middle of the lunge like the last few parties y/n went to before she met Harry. This wasn’t that kind of reunion. These were not people looking for a cheap high and a damage-filled nights.
This kind of party, the one wrapped in red-velvet rope and bouncers checking to see who you knew in the VIP section, was the kind in which people knew how to party without all the excess drama. They were cool, with their whiskey and bourbon, martinis, gin and tonics. The hallucinogens were for all the new players out on the dance floor, creating the ruckus Harry wished to join just for the night. Maybe, y/n though, just to feel young again. But she would never say that to Harry, or out loud, because it wasn’t cool.
She thinks that maybe Harry wanted to build his buzz a little bit more, because he sat in the center of the couch, the life of the conversation, with his arms curled protectively and securely around her. He’s laughing loudly, his hair is disheveled- strands leaking away from their normal swoop around his face to dangle in front of his eyes. The alcohol in his system is heating his bloodstream, and while it isn’t noticeable to anyone else, y/n can see the smallest hints of perspiration at the back of his neck, and she can feel the abnormal heat of his body seeping through his clothes. It’s making her a little sweaty, and if it weren’t for the smallest bit of doubt still left in there, she would have found an excuse to get up and use the bathroom.
Louis was at their secluded bar, whispering into the ear of a blonde that was a few inches taller than him, and y/n watched as he coaxed a smile from her, and the nod of her head before they headed to the dance floor. She would more than likely end up there with Harry soon, and she was observing the atmosphere out there.
The floor, which was made up of lit-up squares that changed in time with the music, was crammed with men and women who all had the same things in common: wealth, cars, social circles, the luxury brands that filled their closets. The women often made such exclusive conversation, that y/n would feel uncomfortable contributing because the only things she knew about luxury was whatever Harry gave her. It made her question her position in his social hierarchy. So much that she preferred the company of his men, the ones meant to protect her.
Stationed at every entry and exit point where groups of men who flashed guns and ear pieces, they lined the floor above the dance floor, glaring down at everyone and smiling at her when they caught her eyes.
Y/n was smiling back at Tony, when Harry tugged at her earlobe with his mouth, asking for her attention.
“Who are you giving those pretty smiles to, angel?” She heard the casual tone in his voice, the playful light induced by the alcohol in his system, but also the dangerous edge that said he wasn’t fucking around. “You should be giving them to me. It’s my birthday.”
Was he… mad?
Y/n’s eyes dropped down to her lap, where Harry’s palm was spanning on the top of her thigh, pressing into the skin that wasn’t covered by her dress, “Just saw Tony, H. Was saying hello,” she said, hoping it was loud enough to be heard above the thrum of music.
His mouth still at her ear, body now fully pressed against hers, he chuckled darkly along with his words, “why don’t you say hello to Daddy, hmm?”
Retreating from her so she could see the wolfish smile on his face, the expectant raise in his eyebrows. It was enough to make her smile, a flush on the apples of her cheeks as she shook her head at him.
In the middle of mouthing, a retort, collective screaming erupted somewhere in the vicinity, followed by gunshots and the scattering of people.
The hair at the back of y/n’s hair raised, and in her gut she knew that something was wrong. It was the pitch in screams, the look on people’s faces. But one glance at Harry said that he thought everyone was still partying. He didn’t tense.
No.
He laughed.
And he was still laughing when something cold and unmistakably dangerous pressed on the back of y/n’s head. She stilled, stiffened, and briefly she thought- this is what it must be like when you’re dead- but all of it vanished when a man came from the shadows, a gun poised and settled at the back of Harry’s head. Only then did Harry act, his gun somehow in his hand in less than a second.
The music stopped. Someone was wailing. Several guns clicked. Locked.
“Not a smart move, Styles. Make another move, and six guns will blow your brains out,” the man, tall and sickly looking with a scarred face. His clothes looked cheap, his hands smeared with dirt.
Y/n’s stomach roiled, and her face felt cold, her hands moist. Behind her, the person with a gun to her head moved the barrel to her temple, wrapped an arm across her shoulders and pulled her away from the circle in Harry’s arm, the burly arm roughly constricting her airway so that her hands flew up to claw it away. Her first instinct was to gasp as she struggled, but y/n also knew that she needed to preserve as much oxygen as she could because she had no idea if the guy choking her would stop anytime soon. Confused about what was happening and who this man was, y/n looked to Harry for some kind of direction, and found that he was already watching her with the scariest look she had ever seen him wear.
Eyes that were normally emerald green were obscured by darkness, a pitch black that reflected his mood. His jaw was clenched, and so was the fist around his gun, knuckles white from the grip he had on it. Y/n recognized his tense posture, back straight as he faced her, his other hand splayed on the back of the couch, twitching. His gun was pointed at legs, still from the man’s order. His eyes were locked on hers, unflinching
Trying to tell her something.
She recognized the look. It was the same one- a more feral version of it- he would give her when he was two seconds away from throwing her over her lap and spanking her until his handprint was a permanent tattoo on her bum because he had instructed her to remain motionless and she was squirming. He was telling her not to move.
“What the fuck kind of birthday gift s’this, Mr. Fisher?” Harry asked, his voice a deadly threat. A cat who was still as a statue, and the only part that would alert you of his oncoming pounce was the twitching tail. Harry’s thrumming fingers on the couch cushion.
Y/n kept watching him all the while he turned his head to look at the scrawny man. Fisher. She didn’t recognize the name, but from the nature of the situation she assumed that he was a rival, and time had come for her to get wrapped up in some kind of mess.
Harry kept her as isolated from his work as he could, but they both knew deep, deep down that one day this would happen. That gut feeling that she had at the start of the night wasn’t a premonition, it was that minuscule sense of insecurity that had always been there when it came to the nature of her life. She didn’t hate Harry, or love him any less.
She just knew this would happen.
The funny part is, she wasn’t even scared of dying. It wasn’t even the thought on the forefront of her mind. Instead, she was thinking of Harry. How was he going to get out of this? How was he going to get them both out of this. She wanted to make sure she was in tune with him, that she was in on his plan so she wouldn’t mess it up and they would make it out alive, but what was the plan?
Fisher laughs, “the best kind, Mr. Styles. The one that ensures you won’t have any more birthdays. Now, I’ll let you pick who goes first. You?” He jerks the gun in y/n’s direction, and a definitive click rings above her left ear. “Or the bitch?”
“Don’t fucking call her that you peice of shit,” Harry all but snarled, his chest rising with tension from his restraint. Y/n wanted to tell him that he wasn’t being particularly smart with his words, if his statements only protected her honor and no her life, but she only gulped.
Fisher laughed. “Drop the gun, or the girl goes.” He moved his thumb, and a bullet locked into place. “Now.”
He glanced at her, his look hard as his jaw ticked. Resigned, Harry threw the gun down. “What do you want?”
“I came to eliminate the competition, and that’s what I’ll do. But first, I think I’ll enjoy watching you watch her die, just how you enjoyed taking everything from me”
“You’re a bad businessman, Fisher. Not my fault, and definitely not hers either. She knows nothing!”
“You’re a bad businessman, Fisher. Not my fault, and definitely not hers either. She knows nothing!” Harry’s shaking now, veins on his neck protruding. A ticking time bomb.
“Am I supposed to believe that?” He walks over to her and caresses her face with a rough, dirty hand. “You spend every minute that you are not working attached to her hip, and you’re telling me she has picked up nothing? Liar.” Y/n moves her face, desperate to get away from the man, but he only jerks her roughly. “C’mon, gorgeous. If you tell me something good, I’ll let you sit in my lap, too.”
She can’t think of anything to say but, “I don’t want to sit in your lap.”
“Fine.” Fisher’s mouth presses into a line, and he releases her, turning and waving his gun in the air. “I’ve given both of you a chance. Do it, Richard.”
Her mouth moved, her eyes locked onto green emeralds that were less panicked than hers. I love you.
And blinked.
Gunshots rang as quickly as they did the first time, and Harry was a mere smear of motion, exploding with the energy simmering in him before. Someone wrenched the man holding y/n, and by consequence, she was jostled too. There was a flash of pain on the underside of her chin because she hadn’t been directly out of the knife points touch when her handler was yanked from her, and there was her heart pounding pounding pounding because everything was moving too fast, the lights weren’t bright enough, and she couldn’t keep track of who was good, who was bad. Another gun went off mortifyingly close to her and several hands grabbed at the fabric at her ankle, waist, and hips, and there was snarling.
Get your hands off her.
Fucking grab her.
Don’t let them out of your sight.
The arm that wrapped around her waist encased her, and a part of her calmed because it was familiar.
“‘Got you, baby,” Harry rasped at her ear, and her heart slowed. He had managed to snag a gun, probably one of the many hidden on his person. Her head snapped to look at him, and even though he was speaking to her, his gaze was all over the room, gun raised and held near his head, pointing up as he searched for an exit, “everything’s gonna be fine, just do as I say. Nod if you understand,” he looked at her then. Y/n nodded, her face like a ghost’s. “We are going to run. Now.”
He half-hauled her as they moved, shooting at people that turned corners a mere second after Harry held his aim. Y/n didn’t want to look. It was grotesque, jarring. A little eye-opening, as this was the reality of Harry’s job. But she had to keep moving, had to try extra hard to keep pace with Harry, so she kept her gaze forward.
“Boss!”
They were at an intersection of halls. And at the end of the one on their right, standing in the doorway of an exit, was Tony. Harry let y/n go so that she could run ahead, and he lagged behind her to shoot at men that were coming from the other two halls.
It was almost as if he read her mind, because as her steps slowed and her head started to move Harry shouted, “Don’t look back, y/n!”
But it was too late. It was too late because there was someone behind him, and his finger was-
there was a bullet and-
“Harry!”
Y/n ran. Not the direction Harry wanted her to. Launched herself before Harry even had the chance to open his arms and catch her but it was fine because that was the point.
To get him out of the direct line of the bullet’s flight. That was her only thought. Then of course, there was the thought of living without him when he had saved her, but it was fleeting. Her heart was pounding, her ears ringing, and it was the first time that she realized how close life and death was for them. The look in his eyes when she ran towards him said it all. A repetition of holy fuck holy fuck holy fucking shit in tune with the incantation of her breath and heart.
She heard him curse and embrace her as they landed. His arm moved at her side, and another bullet went off. His, she presumed by the way his arm recoiled. Her eyes closed shut and she gripped him, afraid of moving because of the unknown everything coming at them. Harry picked them both up, and shook her, shouting something but y/n’s ears were still ringing. She only saw his finger pointing, and Tony at the end of the hall with the door wide open.
Y/n began running again, if the way Harry gently pushed her was any indication of what he wanted her to do.
Tony caught her rattled body, muttered an apology and threw her into a vehicle. Then he ran to the front seat and started the car.
Y/n, concerned for her lover’s well being croaked, “what about-”
Tony shook his head as a way of silencing her. “He’ll get here, miss. Just give him a second.”
A few seconds later that same door slammed open again, a panting Harry emerging and jumping into the car.
“Drive. Drive to whichever safe house y’can think of, and don’t stop.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fuck,” Harry swore. His hands fumbling like a flock of birds taking off, all over her. “Fuck, darlin’ are you okay?”
Y/n nodded, but couldn’t stop her lip from trembling, her hands from reaching out to him. Harry clutched at her again, moving her to sit on his lap and with a hand at the back of her head, led her to rest her forehead on the crook of his shoulder. I love you’s and I’m sorry’s got lost from his mouth in her hair, and the silent tears that fell from her eyes dribbled down to be what cleaned the cut on her chin.
The rest of the car ride was a blur. Maybe she fell asleep. Maybe her eyes were closed and her thoughts were too wild to comprehend. Maybe they walked out at some point, into a house hidden in shrubbery and an old man who unlocked another hidden door for them, all while Harry and Tony kept looking behind their shoulders and maybe they split ways to sleep and reconvene in the morning.
Maybe Harry kissed her and kissed her as they walked somewhere, nearly crying. Maybe they were her tears he tasted. Maybe.
She didn't know.
There was only this. The tumbling of their bodies into a room. Minds in a mess of selfish possessiveness.
Harry, harry, harry.
Y/n, y/n, y/n.
They were in a trance, animals in need of preserving their life and survival, hormones awry with the need to touch- skin to bare skin. With every murmur of the other’s name, Harry throwing in a pet name every other call and y/n whispering the lone Daddy, an article of clothing melted from their bodies by the heat of their hands that roamed over their frames. Y/n hands like butterflies on his broad shoulders, Harry’s fingers like a hazardous python lazing across her navel and up, up, up to her breasts and shoulders.
Dancing around each other, they draped across the bed, and y/n was incoherent. She wasn’t making any sense because her mind couldn’t keep up with her mouth, it was too busy sending instructions to the body parts beneath Harry’s touch, urging the skin to become pliant beneath him, to push up against him. To spread her thighs to accommodate the width of his hips. Only dimly did she come to register his rough words spilling with urgency as he lined himself at her soaked pussy, spoken like commands and prayers, begging.
“Never want to see you do that shit again, darling girl. So what if I’m dead? If you had died, my world would have lost it’s sun. I would have lost my God, y/n. I would have been miserable without you. My sweetest honey, my softest little dove,” he pressed a reverent kiss on her temple, his voice breaking with emotion, “you can live a life without me, but I cannot live a life without you, okay?” Harsh breaths broke across her mouth and chin, the raw tone of voice seeping like honey in tea and dissolving sluggishly into her skin. Y/n was lightheaded, her eyes closed and the back of her head rubbed loose figure eights into the pillowcase.
And then it was like a switch flipped inside him, and he was stern. Serious. Like he needed her to understand. Did she- “understand what I’m sayin, baby? Hmm?” Harry slowly pushed into her, the head of his dick stretching and filling her with every inch of movement. They can never seem to not want this- to not want sex. Being connected this way was something they wanted all the time, so they did. All the fucking time. Yet, y/n couldn’t seem to get used to his size, the way he pressed up against her walls like he would make her burst apart like a fragile glass compartment if he was any bigger.
Physically, y/n couldn’t manage to say that she understood, and maybe she didn’t really. Too much had happened that day, the shooting, the near end of his life, their near separation, and all she wanted was release. She wanted it so bad that the ache of it was starting to hurt.
So, she just nodded, her eyes shut and her body arching underneath him. Against him. Trying to get him to move because every part of her was on fire and she desperately wanted him to put it out.
But y/n should know better. Harry didn’t come to play. It was the reason why he led a drug ring so successfully. Because everyone listened to him when he asked for something, or else they would face the consequences. And she was not exempt from those expectations. Especially not her.
Twin pricks of pain sprouted on her chin where Harry held her still, expectantly, his green gaze boring into hers with a single cocked brow as he waited for her to correct herself and allowing her reprieve from a future punishment. His hips stilled, halting their leisurely inch towards bottoming out, abs flexing as they worked to both, stop his movements, and hold his upper body above her with the help of his arm. His knees were planted beneath her thighs, her legs thrown over his so that she had no way to back way or shut him out, but she was able to tighten her hold around his hips and attempt to hike herself up to encourage him to continue fucking into her. But, the moment she thrust her hips upward, Harry pulled back so that his cock left her completely, remnants of her arousal glistening on his tip and on where he rubbed against the skin below his belly button.
“Answer me,” the two words were scarily devoid of emotion, the blank slate of his voice not reflecting the stern set of his face, with eyebrows dipped low enough to crinkle his forehead. The set of his mouth and a strained vein in his neck didn’t even begin to bring alive the desperate animal that prowled the cage of his ribs, stalking nothing but restless from the previous threat. Some part of him was still frantic, anguished and overcome with the need to possess her, own her, as if the pleasure he gave her would equate to the nurturing aspect of providing safety and trust. Harry felt as if it was all his fault, and the only way to convey how sorry he was, how much he loved her, was through showing her.
“Yes,” she whimpered, hips dropping back into the mattress defeatedly. Her nails dragged up his biceps, attempting to calm herself and get a reaction out of it. Y/n was also... lost in the muddle of feelings that were thundering in her system. Fear, both for her life and Harry’s, the primal instinct to surround herself with him, to be consumed by him so that his imprint will stay on her forever, so that even if they were to be separated, reminders of him would be forever on her.
In her.
When her eyes began to droop closed from the overwhelming nature of her need, the painful edge of it making her feel helpless, Harry jostled her chin softly and asked, “yes, who?”
“Yes, daddy,” the words were out of her mouth before she could even think about it.
“That’s what I fucking thought,” Harry’s voice was once again filled with sensual aggression, lips curling around his words in a near snarl that made her breath hitch at the bottom of her throat and her nails dig into the thickness of his biceps that strained with the force of his thrust. He sunk into her in one fluid movement, bottoming out without allowing y/n to adjust and causing a long quivering moan to creep from her mouth. Millions of tiny blossoms of pleasure spread on her skin and bones like a droplet of water being absorbed, growing in size and collecting to join in one massive blanket of euphoria.
Oxygen was missing from her next inhale, but y/n didn’t care. In fact, it wasn’t enough. She needed more. She always needed more when it came to Harry, even when she knew that more meant possible breaking like the piece of glass he thought she was. The tips of her breasts scorched a trail on his chest when she arched off the bed asking for, “more, please. It’s not enough, daddy. I need more.”
Harry chuckled, a dark, deep noise that vibrated around her and tickled her skin. He sat back on his haunches, still deep inside her, and slid his hands underneath her knees and pulled them up together, so that they lay over his shoulder. The repositioning tightened the space between her thighs, and heightened the full feeling that came with having him buried completely in her pussy. Shakily, because y/n knew this position was dangerous for both of them, she dug her nails into his flexing thighs that were right beneath her legs, waiting for him to move. Waiting for more. This was a position they had only tried twice before. The first time, she had asked him to stop because the angle was too much, the second time she had received as a punishment that ended with her screaming in pleasure and by the end of it, limp and trembling on the bed and Harry kissed her all over and wiped himself of her with a washcloth.
“This is gonna hurt, little girl,” stroking a hand down from her ankle to her knees, thighs, and up her stomach to twist her nipple between his fingers, Harry smirked down at her, his expression containing no humor. “Remember that you asked for this. M’only giving you what you want,” taking hold of her in the crease where her legs met her hips, he pulled out halfway and pushed back into her, not gently, just to watch her face contort into one of pain and pleasure.
Y/n threw her head back and mumbled something incoherent, her eyes shutting and neck straining from the sensations that were taking over her being. Vaguely does she register something along the lines of ‘yes, yes, yes, more’, but it all withers into the red-hazed tangible love that drowned all of the receptors in her neurological region. The deep, erratic breaths pulling through her lungs sunk the sink around her ribs and only added to the crazed air around her. She was taken by what Harry was giving her, and Harry was chasing after her attention, grinding himself down so that his balls sat on the crevice of her ass and the tip of his dick stroked something deep between her. Anything and everything around them was lost. The only thing that mattered was them. Him. Her. The way it felt as if Harry was intruding in the most delicious way possible, as if every thrust was the last one she would be able to take from him.
“This is what you want, darlin’ angel? Am I takin’ care of you right?”
“Yes. It’s so good, H. So good, daddy.”
“I’m the only one that’s going to take care of you this way, baby. The only one who knows that this-'' he made as if he was going to retreat from her, drawing himself nearly all the way out before abruptly pounding back into her so her ass sunk down into the mattress. A cry escaped her when the force of Harry’s movements reached a notch inside her, and an even longer, broken whimper when he made small plunges into her so that the head of his cock repeatedly rubbed against her g-spot, “-is the place that makes you purr like a little fuckin’ kitty. Did you really think I would leave y’so easily, darling? Think I would leave your cunt aching with no one to take care of it, hmm? It’s always going to be-” his hips retreated, and slapped back into her, the force of his thrust stealing her breath,“-me, darling. I’m right here and I’m-” the next tilt pressed her hips deep into the mattress, and her nails dug into his skin. Her breath kept escaping her because her lungs couldn’t keep up with the symphony of sensations that was racking through her body, centering where they connected. He plunged into her again,“-never leavin’ you.”
Y/n wasn’t sure what was coming out of her mouth, only that her mouth was dragged open in a scream- she didn’t know if it was silent. She couldn’t focus on anything else but Harry’s grunts as he gyrated his hips against hers, no longer moving in and out of her but rather, smothering his skin against hers, trying to bury deeper into her drilling against her core that was filled with him. It felt as though he was invading the deepest parts of her, like she wouldn’t be able to feel right without him inside her again. The head of his cock was a constant pressure on that bundle of nerves, and he was rubbing against her with such force that they were slowly moving up the bed. His hands let her legs fall apart, and they curled around her hips with his guidance. She gasped at the sudden change, the opening of pussy that allowed him to somehow drive deeper than before, and she moved her hands from the backs of his thighs to his biceps, which came to cage her and Harry braced his hands beside her head. Knocking his nose against hers, Harry licked into her mouth before nipping her lips and devouring her in a kiss.
A distraction, she realized, because he began that punishing pace again.
“Daddy, please. Please, I want- I- I- I need-,” she began to whimper, so lost in her pleasure that kept building, and building, and building, but wouldn’t drop over that precipice. Dimly, it occurred to her that she didn’t know what she needed. Every thought escaped her with every drag of Harry’s cock. He moved slowly now, so that his abdominal muscles clenched and unclenched as his hips flexed, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched her stutter.
“Baby can’t think right now, is that it?” His thumb traced her bottom lip, and her tongue lazily came out to lave at it. It was exactly what he wanted her to do, and as soon as she did he roughly hooked her chin open. “Want me to do all the work for you? I wasn’t lying when I said I knew that your sweet little pussy needs, baby. Now open. Wide.” He waited for her to open her mouth, “leave it open. If you close it, you don’t get to cum. Understand?”
Y/n nodded, the need to cum shutting down all of her rational thinking. Her nerves were fraying, the rub of silk against her body every time he thrust into her was driving her insane. Saliva pooled in her mouth at the sight of Harry above her, his mouth nearly in a snarl as he focused on her, eyebrows pinched and his emerald eyes nearly black. He withdrew and began fucking into her with more force than speed, earning a breathless gasp from her each time they connected.
Then, when her head started to tilt back and her thighs were straining with tell-tale quivers, Harry dipped down and collected the saliva in her mouth with his tongue moaning deeply as the taste of her exploded across his taste buds, and spit it back into her own mouth. He felt his balls draw up at the way she immediately swallowed, and her face pinched with a pained look. Her pussy tightened around him like an unforgiving vise, and a cry left her as she let her orgasm rake through her body.
Harry continued his thrusting, allowing his own climax to pour over him as he buried his dick in her. It exploded over him, on him, in him, and all of the emotions he had felt that day came to their culmination, releasing in resolution. He was with his love, he was there, and they were sharing a beautiful thing. His arms held him above her quivering form, her pussy still milking him and broken little sobs were seeping out of her lips, tears sliding down to the pillows from the corners of her eyes.
She felt it, too. They were tender, tethered to each other and overwhelmed with each other.
“I know, my love,” Harry whispered to her, breathless. A grunt left him as he dipped his head down to her neck and kissed her collarbone, her jugular, and the spot behind her ear before nibbling on her lobe. “I love you, y/n. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
He grabbed her limp hand, and placed it over his heart, “You live here, do you understand me? I don’t have a heart, darling, I have you. You’re my reason for breathing, for the blood in my veins. C’mon now, no more tears, little girl.”
Y/n was whimpering, keening into his touch as he wiped her tears away with his fingers. They had twisted to their sides, still connected. She felt soft. Not vulnerable, but naked in the best way. Like he was looking into the deepest parts of her soul, and so was she. She felt like wispy pink skin, tinted with the cold air. Inexplicably, y/n had fallen in love with Harry all over again. Like she had met a new version of him at that moment. She wanted to tell him that her life was as long as it was because of him, but all she could manage was a weak, wet, “I love you so much, Harry.”
They fell asleep that way, still tangled in one another, grasping each other’s hands. Tangled, in more ways than one.
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HI FRIENDS. WOOOOOOOOOOO. Camprry. Aimed for 5K or less and managed to get wordy again. Reader insert and basically pure smut. This one was supposed to be vanilla with some praise kink (and exhibitionism if you SQUINT since it’s in a tent) but….. hahahahaha….. WEEEELLLLLLL.
CONTENT WARNINGS: oral sex, face fucking, exhibitionism-ish if you squint, choking-ish if you squint, light dom/sub, praise kink, daddy kink, intercourse
WC: 7.5K (whoops)
There is nothing remotely sexy about a camping trip.
In fact, Y/N thinks that if she were to deduce a list of words upon first thought when it came to camping, sexy would be the furthest one from qualifying.
There’s nothing sexy about reverting to caveman-ism, sleeping on the ground, sheathed by some paper-thin layer of nylon and polyester and plastic support beams. There’s nothing sexy about pit stains from the lack of air conditioning or its antithetical twin sister, the bumps that rise over chilly skin and trembling bones without the luxury of an electric heater. There’s nothing innately erotic about kindling fire like electricity doesn’t exist, and cooking hot dogs on skewers over the flame, and perpetually swatting at insects that incessantly stick to shins and calves like the flesh there is coated in sugar.
There is something sexy, though, when it comes to the way Harry’s arms work as he pitches a tent, bi’s and tri’s intermingling in an alluring duet, pumping and settling with each motion. The sleeves of his tee ride up when he raises the limbs, and sunlight catches shadow in ridge and sinew of muscle. There’s something sexy in the way his back ripples, in the way that thin fabric does nothing to cover what she imagines — no, what she’s well aware lies underneath. The same traps and lats she’s scraped her nails over and dug into. The same shoulders she’s sunk her teeth into to bridle cries of bliss.
There’s something hot about the cinch in his brow when he works, something alluring in the curl at the plush of his mouth when he turns his head and beams lopsidedly at something that their friend has said, too low for Y/N to catch. There’s something sexy in the way that his eyes skim her frame when she’s sitting in a fold-out chair with sunglasses. When his eyes glide over his shoulder. It’s in the most subtle way. There’s something sexy in the way he tears that gaze away.
There’s something sexy in the way that no one around them knows she spends nights bouncing on his cock.
This lustrous affair — this sneaky fling. This filthy, dirty secret that only the two of them share, slinking and sidling through the shadows.
Really, it’s nothing more than a raunchy circumstance of friends-with-benefits, only kept on the down-low to evade prying questions from friends and the sickly confrontation of …feelings. Because it’d be easy to admit they’re fucking, that they’ve been hooking up for months after an impromptu, late night of drinking. But then it’s sort of cementing, right? At least, in a way.
There’s a status that floats about when you confess you’re sleeping with somebody — when you admit that you’ve entangled them into your routine beyond one mishap of sex. In the eyes of your friends, admitting that you’ve upkept a sex buddy through the roll of the seasons is, like. Well, it’s basically admitting some form of something sentimental.
They’re just fucking. They’re just friends that fuck. And the way that nobody around them has any sort of suspicion that he’ll most likely be slipping into her tent in the midst of the night for that...
That’s sexy, the young woman thinks.
They’re coiled around the campfire once the sun has ducked out and simmered off behind the trees, and Y/N thinks about it. She watches the shape of his features glow beyond the crackle of the flame, and she thinks about the way his nose bumps over her clit when he licks into her. She watches his mouth move when he talks, a muted strawberry that’s dimmed in the night, and she thinks about the cushion of it pressing open-mouthed kisses to her flesh. She’s in his sweatshirt, because she had to borrow one, and it smells like him. She’s coated in it — his scent. Warm, pleasant musk and remnants of tantalizing cologne. It reminds her of the way the same sweatshirt had been discarded and draped over the foot of her bed haphazardly one night, as he kneed his way onto the mattress and clambered over her, fingertips exploring and tongue trailing. It reminds her of the way he smells when he brushes past her in the company of others, just solid weight and warmth. He does it nonchalantly, but the green of his eyes is knowing and flirtatious. That’s when the same scent teases her senses. It reminds her of the way he smells when he’s up close and personal, when he’s rocking against her and groaning softly into the nook between her shoulder and her neck.
She stares at his hands — the way they lay over the armrests of his fold-out, the way lengthy digits adorned with chunky rings cradle a can of beer. She imagines the same fingers wrapped over her throat, squeezing lightly, in that way that he does.
Y/N isn’t panting into the chill of the air. The white of her exhales just surface …quicker. His hands, and his smell, and his mouth are entirely irrelevant to the matter.
By the time they all retire to their respective tents, the young woman is pleased to get a breather from his hands and his …ludicrously plush, smiley mouth. At least in a public circumstance, so she can’t be caught fawning over his mannerisms from a distance. The smell …she can’t escape that. In all honesty, it should be shameful, basking in the scent of a sweatshirt. Instead, she coils up in it under the covers.
She’s turned on her side with gritty rock coursing through wire, chords of guitar and drums rippling out from the little speakers in her ears, entirely engrossed as she scrolls through what little apps can manage access without a durable station of wifi.
Y/N nearly squeals when an arm slinks over her chest, when a palm nudges over her mouth. And then another hand is plucking at one of the earbuds, giving her leeway into the crinkle of the sleeping bag, crickets, and the sound of bated breaths behind her.
A low baritone, hushed and teasing against the same ear where the earbud’s been removed, “Easy, baby.”
The gentle murmur that his lips shape does, frankly, little to soothe the hammer of her heart. In fact, if anything, the muscle soars in pace behind bone with the way cushiony pink grazes her jaw, the way his warm weight presses up behind her.
“Easy.”
She’d sit up and turn over her shoulder if she had the opportunity, but the same inky, muscly arm she’d admired hours earlier cradles over, preventing the motion. Harry can tell too, evidently, based on his soft snicker. He’s pleased from the way her head juts to steal a peer back. He’s pleased when she doesn’t succeed.
Instead of letting up, he takes the same earbud he’d pulled out and presses it into his own ear so that they’re sharing the set, crooning, “What are you listening to? Hm?”
He sponges another kiss to the side of her throat, a stray tendril flopping over his forehead. Y/N knows that he’s listening to it, too, then. She knows from the playful, little nudge of his head with the rhythm, from the way the cord of the earbuds grows taut, from the sound of mirth he muzzles to her skin when he drives his mouth over the side of her neck. The young woman wriggles her arm, just enough for his grip to loosen, and then uses the opportunity to raise her head to take her own earbud out. The motion jostles Harry from the nook he’s seemingly made homage in, and he nips at her earlobe in protest. Anyways, the whole thing sends a chill wracking down her shoulders.
When he lets up, Y/N twists in his grasp to her back. The earbuds splay over her chest, his own discarded, too. There’s still music seeping softly. She blinks, gaze tracing over his features, basked in shadow and soft amusement.
“Hey,” she croaks, her voice catching on a crack with the effort to keep quiet.
And Harry drags a thumb down her stomach, fingers meddling where the fabric of her (no, his) hoodie has rucked up. The ticklish sensation makes her shift a little. His mouth quirks, and he smooths over the same spot again.
“Hey, you.”
Her lips part and her tummy jolts when he slips the chilly pad of his thumb back over the line he’d run for a third time. She wants to bring her own hand up and trace the contours of his cocky mouth with her fingertips. It shapes the words, like baritone bathed in honey, “Ticklish?”
When he brushes over a fourth time, her arm twitches, and her hand shoots for his wrist, squeezing lightly. Corners of muted pink spring up, dimples scoring softly.
“Yes,” she gripes in a whisper, but the gripe doesn’t come out very gripey at all. Instead, it’s sort of small — that’s on account of his warm weight shifting onto her. Which is a new development, and it’s one that stirs something familiar and warm below the sleeping bag she’s nestled into, half-zipped and mostly just thrown over.
His sturdy thigh slips in the empty gap between her own, and Harry ducks his head, the dimples deepening and the glint of white teeth escaping through the part of his lips. And then he dips lower until his face is nearly tucked into her hair.
“I missed you,” his admission is soft-spoken. It’d be sort of tender if it didn’t come out so …hungry.
Y/N takes in a little, shuddery breath. The same hand that's settled over her hipbone comes up to brush hair away from her throat, and a mouth stipples kisses over her pulse. His voice is a raspy, desirous tease, “Did you miss me?”
Christ. She thinks that maybe if he were telepathic and had even a brief glimpse into the filthy things that’d cycled behind her skull for the duration of the day, then he’d only be more smug.
That’s dangerous.
She’s glad he isn’t.
The young woman hums — an apathetic sound that feigns contemplation, like his touch doesn’t light every nerve ending in her system on fire, like she hasn’t spent hours staring at his arms, his mouth, his hands. Like she hasn’t been picturing expanses of muscle and skin hidden under his tee, imagining her tongue tracing through the vales of his v-line and her fingertips following the trail of hair below his belly button, slipping lower and lower…
“No?” Harry murmurs, lips bumping wetly over her flesh. What follows is a gentle exhale, and then his mouth is sponging another open-mouthed kiss, and his tongue brushes warmth against her, like he’s petting with it over her pulse. He caresses all the way back to her ear. Something dirty and thrilling slinks down the knobs of her spine when he mumbles, unconvinced, “I think you’re lying to me, little miss.”
Her breath stutters.
“I think,” Harry muses, fingers dipping beneath the shroud of the sleeping bag and smoothing back over her waist testingly, “that if I had a look right now, you’d be a drippy mess.”
Her throat bobs on a swallow. Petulantly, and so obviously feigning, Y/N tips her chin back and tells him, “…Not at all.”
Instead of smoothing tips of digits back over the naked, little expanse of skin again, they venture lower, teasing at the waistband of her sleep shorts. “I think your sweet, little pussy would tell me otherwise, wouldn’t it, pet?”
Another deep breath rolls her chest under the cushioned sheet of fabric when fingertips dwell in. Just centimeters, practically. They retreat. Harry presses another kiss just below her ear.
“Hm? It’s been so empty all day long. Achy, I bet.” Chills rise awake all over when he murmurs, purely condescending pity painting every syllable, “Poor baby.”
He’s always had it — this gift of filthy, dirty gab. This ability to render her craving and wanting with his words like it’s innate, practically. She shouldn’t be surprised when he shifts over her, just enough for her to feel how hard he is, tips of his curls tickling at her cheek, “Could stuff it full. Make it all better.”
Y/N sighs. Finally. Like it’s a release of the whole act, and the seams of it come apart to bliss when he nips with his teeth. She cranes her neck to give him more room to work.
“Would you like that?”
And she would, she thinks. Very, very much, and his lingering fingers — when they pull out and he hooks a thumb in and just tugs down a smidge — remind her of how hot she suddenly is. How hot everything is, despite the chill in the air. Instead of answering, the young woman nudges with her chin — a nod. An unsatisfactory one, evidently.
“Words,” Harry mutters. It’s gentle, and quiet, and she hopes the polar opposite of the way he’s going to fuck her.
She cranes her neck more and splays her thighs what little she can under his weight. It’s kind of a plea. It’s also sort of pathetic. “Yes.”
But it makes his mouth crook. His palm draws away. No. That wasn’t the intended effect. She curbs her sound of protest, but he can tell that it’s bridled in the chamber — she knows because the curl of mirth grows wider. He sits up a bit, bracing on his arms until he hovers over her, and then he sighs, jade sliding to the sector of the bag that’s zipped. Slowly, like he’s teasing, he grips over the notch and tugs.
“What d’you do if you want me to stop?” Harry beckons, nearly a whisper but not quite, fingers skimming up under his hoodie. The same hoodie clings to her flesh, and every nerve sparks alive at the touch, striking her lungs to expand heavier. The air catches when the pads of his fingers graze up the vale of her sides and siphon a flinch.
“Teacup,” Y/N breathes the safeword in response, and the fingertips climb her ribs like a staircase, pleased.
“Good girl,” He tells her, and the pads sink back over, bumping over the ridges, and he tugs the fabric up over her chest.
Her bra is red. It’s a nice detail, all lacy cupped over her chest. He draws the tip of an index over the edge and says, “Cheeky,” like his comment isn’t, “…Did you wear this to get fucked?”
The young woman gnaws at her lip. Innately, it’s not an accurate statement. She didn’t wear it to get fucked — not when she knew he’d be slipping into her tent in the midst of the night and fucking into her regardless of the state of her underthings. But it’s a nice touch when he ducks, palm squeezing over one of her tits, and tacks on all low against her ear, like it’s praise, “Because you know I love you in red, pet.”
The satisfaction of pleasing him buds in her chest, right at the core of her ribcage, warmth pitted deep, and it slinks out like beams of gooey sunshine, winding and seeping through the cavity until her veins practically thrum yellow. She’s buzzing beneath him, pulse thumping and fibers of muscle twitching. It makes his mouth curve — the way he feels her trembling under him like she’s a taut string, and he traces a thumb over her mouth.
Then jade flits to her chest, and Harry takes the thumb away to hook fingers under the cups and tug. They settle under her tits, perking them, and the way the wire settles over her ribcage isn’t particularly comfortable, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when he shimmies down her body and draws a stripe down with his tongue, all the way from the hollow of her throat to the edge of the bra, settling in between. He kisses down her stomach, green salacious and twinkling up through shadow at her, and his tongue draws a circle around her belly button. His mouth quirks there, too, because it makes her flinch. Because he knew it would. Harry brushes with wet taste buds lower, settles on a side, low on her tummy, and sucks a pressing kiss. Her whole spine wrings and writhes, arching when he pairs the sensation with a dull graze of his hand over a nipple. It’s barely anything, but it’s a touch she longs for. And she doesn’t know why, but it always lights her on fire when the pleasure entwines with something that makes her want to squirm out of her own skin.
Because when he turns the graze into a pinch and a roll, when he hones on the drag of his tongue and the suckling of his mouth, when he skirts featherlight fingertips up her side like he’s plucking invisible strings, the yellow thrums red, and hot, and hungry. When his mouth lets up and he drags wet lips to curl over the opposite nipple and the featherlight turns more purposeful, squeezing at sensitive flesh, this knocked-out unph escapes her, like a bridled grunt he’s punched from her. Like a half-laugh, like a moan, like a mottled gasp, like discomfort and please-don’t-stop enmeshed, curbed out of desperation. It makes the red fucking neon.
Harry withdraws with a pop from the bud, and the air bites onto the wet to replace his mouth. The ambiance of rickets and cold reminds her that they’re kind of, sort of, definitely in public, only really shielded from said public (and the intrusive presence of their friend group) by thin sheets of nylon erected with plastic poles. Her eyes say it all then — this hesitation sparking, lashes bouncing and bounding from the nervous shift of her pupils, working from his eyes to his plush mouth and back as he rises to settle over her more.
“They’re asleep,” he promises, a hushed murmur he seals to her own mouth in a sloppy half-kiss. His top lip ghosts over her cupid's bow, and he smooths a hand back over the vale of her waist where he’d squeezed a second ago. Her chest rolls under him, and her mouth parts, just a little to let a mottled little sound escape, like a wheezing gasp she’s muffled.
And he muffles it more with his own lips, pressing against her. The sleeping bag rustles, and it’s quiet beyond the stilted sheets barring the wilderness. Harry’s hand skims down.
“Where do you want me to touch you?” Harry murmurs into her mouth, palm trailing until it stills at the waistband of her shorts, fingertip lingering over an expanse of skin below her belly button that he’s well aware will have her squirming. Y/N jerks. “Here? Or… maybe…”
The young woman practically does a squished, weighted version of a body roll beneath him when he moves his hand to her inner thigh, dragging the pad of his index over the sensitive skin higher up. “Maybe …here? …No, I don’t think so…”
His tongue licks into her mouth when she opens wider for him, desperate for the taste of him on her tongue, and she nearly gasps over that same tongue — loudly — when his palm cups unceremoniously between her legs. “…I think you want me here. That’s about right, isn’t it?”
Y/N makes a little noise — it’s something between desperation and wordless agreement, and it quirks the corners of Harry’s mouth, carving dimples in beside his smug beam. The hand withdraws so suddenly she wants to melt into the hungry soil.
“Yeah, that’s it, sweet thing,” he declares, voice hushed, a bass-deep admission soft-spoken and colored with teasing.
Instead, he presses up until he’s hovering over her and then knees his way back, and then his fingers tuck up under the waistband of her shorts. When he discards them into the beginnings of a pile of clothing beside them, coaxing her hips to rise up enough with a soft word, blood teems into her cheekbones, like it’s all new and foreign.
It’s not.
It’s the most comforting and familiar when he traces a fingertip over the cleft at the crotch of her panties, the most familiar when he shimmies his fingertips under the sides of the fabric at her hips and tugs those off, too. It’s familiar when he holds a leg up, fingers gentle at her calf, and sponges kisses up her leg from her ankle to her inner thigh. It’s familiar when his tongue dances over hot, slick, flesh in craving, when it rolls around her clit and circles back. When he’s amused by the proof that he was right, that she is soaked, and his ego inflates like a hot air balloon. It’s familiar in the draw of his tongue, in the brush of his lips, in the way his fingers brush over her thighs, over her hole, over the sensitive areas in between. It’s familiar in the way that she watches stars speckle in the darkness behind her clenched eyelids, in the way that Harry doesn’t let up even as she pants and wrings her own fingers into his curls. In the way that he only responds with a moan against her at the rough treatment of his scalp.
It’s somewhere between heaven and hell, teetering on the wire, when he laps over her pulsing cunt. His irises flicker up when she shudders, when Y/N makes a futile attempt to clasp her thighs over his head and prevent the light drag of his tongue over her oversensitive button. Instead, he tucks a palm against one of her legs and holds it down, plush lips curling around an ‘o’ and sucking. Every muscle seizes, her fingers twitching and struggling to curl into the thinly stuffed fabric of the sleeping bag. She bridles a whole-body thrash, neck straining as her breath stutters.
“Please— plea— it’s too much—“ Y/N swallows midway her begging to avoid choking on her own spit, and that’s cute, Harry thinks.
Aw, Y/N thinks he’d coo up at her from between her thighs, if his mouth wasn’t occupied at her core, those are pretty words. They don’t sound like a safeword, though.
He doesn’t say that, though. He doesn’t say anything, humming quietly over her clit (honestly, she can’t tell if it’s in protest or agreement) and rolling a slow circle over nerves that are spent and nearly raw post his caress.
Her chest is still rolling when he clambers his way up onto her, kneeing around her sides and then coaxing her arms up into a stretch. Harry cages those with firm thighs at the roots of the limbs, kneeing his way higher until he’s hovering over her chest and admiring her, all pliant and worn out and obedient beneath him. He sniffs, head cocked and eyes glimmering, and then sighs when he tucks fingers into the waistband of his shorts. Her fingers twitch, outstretched above her. And he’s weightless, and steady, and careful over her, but despite that, filth from his tongue punches her breath out like he’s sat directly over her lungs.
“Gonna suck my cock, baby.”
It’s not really a question — not in tone. It’s a coo, a declaration, insight before Harry digs his fingers further past elastic and discards two layers of fabric with one tug, and his cock bobs free, glistening with a bead of precum at the head.
Y/N swipes out over her lips with her tongue, and the sheen of spit over pink nearly matches the glimmer on the pink of his tip. The man cradles his free hand over his base and tucks the waistband lower on his hips, just until it rests under his balls and a glimpse of inked laurels and milky expanses of a bare tan line are on show. Bracing himself with a hand planted on the ground, Harry leans over her and aims his shaft, daubing over the plush of her mouth. When her tongue peeks out to swipe over the silky skin, she thinks he’s going to chastise her for her lack of patience. He doesn’t. Instead, he ogles down at the motion like she’s a goddess, cracks in otherwise apathy morphing; a light crease between his brows, a twitch in his lips. The same lips part for a shuddery breath like he’s trying to reign in his composure. And with every drag of his head over her slippery, hungry taste buds, a slow, side-to-side swipe that seems to lose precision with each motion, those cracks in his control give more. His jaw sets and he takes a long breath in through flared nostrils, and then shifts the palm that’d settled on the ground to rest over her wrists.
“M’gonna fuck your mouth,” Harry tells her, pupils scoping carefully from her lips to her own eyes in finality. “What do you do if you want me to stop?”
Y/N blinks. Her fingers twitch. She bends the digits over his grip and squeezes, flexing and unflexing over his own fingers like code in a tempo of frenzy. His gaze doesn’t even flicker from the aim of his tip, and he draws it over her mouth like he’s in awe of the sight.
“Good girl.”
The young woman takes in a breath, mouth parting over his head slightly, all doe-eyed. He smushes his cockhead to the open seam.
“Open up for me,” the soft croon is accompanied by the tilt of his head, and a stray curl dangles over his forehead when he swipes the tip over her lips, “Nice and wide. Show me that pretty tongue.”
And it slinks from her mouth as if on mindless command. Harry smears his tip over it like a filthy greeting, and then he feeds his fat cock in, guiding it up until the point to where he’s able to shift his weight onto the hand that doesn’t coat her wrists, careful not to cause the confined joints any discomfort.
“That’s it,” his praise seeps out all breathy, barely over an awed whisper as he sinks in and her tongue flexes to encompass the drag towards her gag reflex, “That’s a good girl.”
The pointed little end grazes over his balls.
“Eyes up here, pretty thing,” Harry encourages, ducking his own chin. There’s something pretty in the dance of her lash line, in the way her pupils flit up to his shadowy face, the way her lips tuck over her teeth to cushion his shaft. The way her tongue stays stuck out, flexing under the welcomed intrusion, “…Wanna watch them get all teary.”
It’s like she tries to appease him. It’s as if on instinct to his words, that her lashes flutter as she tries to peer up, the beginnings of a ready sheen glazing the pretty color there as her tongue twitches and her throat bobs in an attempted swallow.
And Christ, does it feel good when she does that.
Harry’s own neck cranes, the muscles there flexing and veins swelling there like little ropes pulled taut under his skin. He groans, and it makes her do it again. His brows are furrowed when he risks a glance down at the picture-perfect view, and his hips nudge forward a smidge, only for him to bask in the sight of her irises lolling back and her lashes batting. A hiss lips through gritted teeth like rain through a gutter, and his head cocks further as he smooths an index to rest over her palm. She doesn’t have her digits balled — not all the way — not until his forefinger rests in her reach. She squeezes over that, almost like it’s an anchor. Something grounding to tether her.
“Shit,” he manages out, barely over a whisper to bite back a throaty groan, hips rolling and brows furrowed in pleasure, “Shit — you’re good. You’re so good—“
And it makes the twitch of her lashes melt into a flitting bat, the color there rolling back and hiding behind the flutter. She can’t exactly hum in acknowledgment, but Y/N makes this garbled sound around him — this desperate kind she’d only make with his shaft stuffed down her throat, and it’s loud. Too loud. He squeezes over her wrists with his thumb, hips slowing until he’s wedged in to the hilt, stilled with the tip of her nose pressed to the light dusting of his pubic hair.
And Y/N thinks she’s going to implode. She’s going to implode if she doesn’t suffocate over his cock first.
“Shh, shh,” Harry wriggles the index she’s gripping until her touch loosens enough, and he’s able to stroke the tip over her palm, “Shh.”
Her pupils flit up to him in this deliciously delirious way for air. Harry tips his head down, the shadow of another curl flopping over his forehead. His cock twitches. Y/N makes another sound over him, this one lower. More pleading. More distressed. Her lashes flutter, cheeks puffing. Just when she’s about to clench and unclench over his fingers, he pulls out. It’s nearly all the way, but not quite, and she wheezes oxygen into her deprived lungs, muffling a fit of coughing. When she turns her head to take in more air, his tip slips out and draws a wet streak of saliva from the corner of her mouth across her cheek.
“So pretty,” Harry murmurs. His tone sounds distant, and absentminded, and awed, like her mouth is divine and his voice is sort of full of worship, “You take me so well.”
Y/N blinks up at him, lips swollen post his ministrations and parted, slick with spit. Harry adjusts his grip, balancing his weight, and curls his lengthy digits over the base of his cock, aiming it back to that pretty, pretty mouth.
Her jaw practically unhinges at the implication, tongue sticking out to daub at his cockhead when he croons, “And you’ll take a little more for me, sweetheart. Won’t you?”
The sultry plush of his mouth curls up, all smug like when the tip of her tongue prods at his head, and then he feeds himself back into the warmth of her mouth.
“Yeah,” Harry grunts, hips rolling slow and cautious as he guides himself in, “Yeah, you will.”
He settles back into a pace of shallow, jutting thrusts, slow, and calculated, and testing. But then those melt and meld into something smoother, something deeper that brushes the back of her throat. Her fingers stretch wide and open and curl helplessly, never quite squeezing over his own digits, and Harry basks in the wet, pornographic sounds that envelop his shaft. Even as she tries to dim their volume, the sound of her sputtering around his cock isn’t something she can exactly mask when he brushes her gag reflex, again, and again. With every prod forward, every second she spends with her jaw wide open for him, that flame in her core kindles higher and higher. When he pulls out, jaw clenched and tummy flexing, ridges of his abs caught in the shadows, it’s like he pours kerosene.
“Suck,” her friend tells her, soft-spoken as he nudges with his hips. His palm cradles his cock, fingers curled under the base. But her range of motion is limited, and Harry tips it up from her wanton, slick lips. Almost like it’s purposeful, because it definitely is.
A tentative tongue slips out to draw over his balls, and the way his front teeth lodge against the plush of his bottom lip, head cocked to indulge in the innocuous peer of her eyes beneath him — that’s a pretty sight she can make out even through the lack of light. She takes a million mental snapshots with her pupils, all of him in his all, curls dangling from the angle and the sharp line of his nose, his panting mouth as her tastebuds drag, sinew of muscle at his abdomen flexing, a rise and fall. The barest shape of the dark anchor etched into his wrist, his long, ring-clad fingers, the way they curl over his cock. The shape of it hovering over her face.
A low groan squeezes past the door he’s made with his teeth, and then he says, “Yeah. There. Go on.”
Her tongue morphs to her mouth, lips latching over lightly and sucking, just as he’d directed, and parting teases paste to him like doting kisses. Her lashline bounces as her eyes attempt to make his responses out through the rough angle and the dark that coats them. His head craned back there, his tummy rising and falling in pants there, his face tipped down over her to watch. The most insightful — and frankly, the most satisfying — are the sounds.
The hisses of air he sucks in through his teeth, the way huffs fall out from between his open lips. They’re slow, and they come out like he’s trying to control them for the sake of the decibel, but they shake as they escape, and that’s a telltale. And then there’s the moans.
There aren’t many of those to indulge in, but there’s a couple, one that Harry can’t seem to curb, despite his seemingly best efforts, when Y/N rolls her tongue over him all slow-like and comes off with a pop. And then another, later, that has him hanging his head when she stipples kisses to the sensitive skin there.
“Christ, you’re gonna kill me.”
The young woman hums, maybe in agreement or maybe goading, lashes batting innocently beneath him as she draws her lips over his sac aimlessly.
“Fuck,” Harry mutters, and then he stifles and clams up like he’s contemplating. When her tongue drags over him again he seems to make a decision, tearing himself away and kneeing his way back until he’s hovering over her thighs, his cock bobbing and wet with spit, “Sit up. Take this off.”
Do this, do that. A shudder climbs up the knobs of her spine, slithering its way up the bone as she basks in the dominating note plucking at his tone. The sweatshirt catches on her hair and tugs strands, but it’s frenzied, somehow fond, the way his hands rove up her sides and slip up her back, roaming over hot skin to toggle at the back of her bra.
Then it’s, “Roll over,” with the last of her clothing discarded into the darkness, somewhere beside them in the same, sloppy pile with her shorts and her underwear. “Gonna—“ she thinks he sheds his t-shirt then, imagines his muscles rippling and flexing as he pulls it off, over his head from the back, “—fuck you like I want your snug cunt wrapped around me forever.”
And then go his shorts, judging by the way his weight dips and balances, the shuffling from behind as he kicks them off and they’re flung somewhere by his ankle. He presses up onto her, grappling her by the hip, all warm weight and everything brushing together.
“You wanna bounce on my cock, baby?” Harry murmurs, pink lips grazing her temple. A curl tickles at her cheekbones when he ducks to skim his teeth over her earlobe, to ghost a breath of promise — of foreshadowing against her neck when he tells her, sultry low and smooth like honey, “Be a good girl and ask Daddy nicely. Maybe then I’ll let you.”
Shit. Fucking Shit. That little word teems down her ears and hikes all the way down her nervous system and back up, lighting everything in her alive.
Quietly, barely over a whisper, Y/N beckons, “Please.” And when Harry doesn’t immediately move, she licks out at her slips, swallows, and pleads, “Daddy. I need you. Need you inside.”
In response, her friend cups a hand over a love handle and guides his cock to press against her. But he doesn’t breach.
“Better, but not quite,” he sighs. There’s leaves rustling outside in the gentle breeze, but Y/N doesn’t hear anything besides the rush of blood in her ears when she begs more, and it doesn’t get any quieter when Harry rewards her by tucking himself inside and pumping forward, just about halfway.
It’s a crying shame when he doesn’t make any motion to keep going. And then it’s quiet besides their panting breaths intermingling. Eventually, though, he does talk.
“Fuck yourself on it,” Harry instructs, cadence ludicrously controlled given that half of his cock is tucked into her. Y/N peers over her shoulder to catch glimpses of his furrowed brows — the rip in the stitch of semblance. She can only manage to see so much. He ducks his head and nips at the shell of her ear, coaxing tingles down her neck, her shoulders, all the way from her nape. “Go on. Don’t pretend to be shy about it.”
Fucking fuck. How can she not be, she thinks, when he talks like that?
There’s a heat that seeps over her the crest of her cheekbones where he can’t see, and she squeezes over him in response to the filth. Harry settles back up. From the corner of her eye, Y/N notes lines of muscle shaping his arms as he hovers over her. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she arches her hips up a tad and nudges back. It’s not enough — it’s maybe an inch, and she rocks forward by pressing her hips down and then repeats the motion. Just as there was a lack of control over her shame when he spewed dirty, brazen, filth, there’s also a lack of motion when she’s rolled forward with her tummy pressed to the ground. There’s only so much — so many inches she can ride back on when she’s rendered immobile.
He knows it, too — it’s obvious by the poorly muffled note of mirth in his tone from behind, “Good girl. But you can do better than that, can’t you?”
Helplessly, Y/N grits her teeth, fingers tangling into the fabric of her sleeping bag as she rolls her hips back in another attempt. It’s stuttery, and awkward, and not really a seamless, Shakira-esque roll at all. It’s a poor shuffle, hips raising more than traveling back.
“Come on,” Harry goads, tutting like her tries are half-assed and she’s not currently exerting her body into creating motions that are simply unrealistic, “Take it proper. You want it? Then take it. Show me.”
Camping is supposed to be wholesome. Camping is supposed to be laughter, and deep, pure breaths of air that scrub out the tainted glaze of city life from the walls of your lungs, sticky like cigarette smoke residue on the walls of a house. It’s hiking boots stuffed with the thickest socks. It’s marshmallows on twigs over curdling flames that lick up, it’s flashlights, and spooky myths and legends verbalized, and more laughter.
Instead, Y/N is camping, and she’s currently barely grinding over inches of Harry’s cock.
“I can’t,” she grits out, frustrated, but it sounds more like a whine than anything with bite.
“You can’t? Sure you can, pet,” Harry grapples over her hip, bracing on one arm in, honestly, an impressive showcase of athleticism, and manually rakes her hips back over him. It allows for more — more of him, more of his cock, more of his touch. More of him splitting her open and spreading her apart over him. “Just like this, right?”
She’s sure he must be meeting her at least a quarter, if not halfway, though. It all feels like a devious ploy. Y/N whines. He makes this amused sound then, one of those puffs expelled through his nostrils like a half-laugh, accompanied by a hum. And then he pulls out and pumps his hips forward, until he’s flush to her backside, and then reverses and repeats. Three times. He gives her three, good, long, full thrusts, smoothing out to the tip and in to the root until she’s stuffed, just like he’d promised. Then, he presses in all the way and just basks in her heat.
“Better?” Harry asks, but his tone catches on a quiet grunt and wavers in its prior composure. She squeezes over him, really squeezes, and he muffles a groan with the seal of his mouth. For a second, he doesn’t say anything at all, and then the filth spills again. It’s odd how patronizing he can sound, despite the way her cunt so obviously affects him, “Need Daddy to do all the work, is that it?”
Y/N hums. There isn’t much she can say to disagree because it’s good. At some point, his slow rolls morph into sharp juts, and the brace of his arms bends and gives until his chest is flush to her back.
“Please, please, please, please,” Y/N croaks out the mantra, muzzled by the smush of her cheek to the ground with the pressure of his hand palming at the side of her skull.
“Shh,” Harry rocks forward, fingertips twitching into her roots like a meld of petting and admonishment. He rocks into her until he’s flush against her backside, splitting her over him to the hilt, “Shh …don’t need to beg, sweetheart. You can have it. Have it all.”
He’s warm weight over her, hard muscle like hot, sticky stone as he works into her from behind. He’s a welcome stretch, a pleasant burn, inches of bliss that her spongy walls cling to in a warm hug. He’s tips of curls brushing over her cheeks, filthy words in a murmur flush to the shell of her ear, little, repressed grunts and shuddery exhales as his hips rock. He’s a headlock that squeezes over her throat deliciously and keeps her neck craned back. It’s in this perfect way that almost has her gasping for breath.
The young woman practically bites into her tongue to curb a nearly animalistic groan that climbs from the depths of her chest and squeezes out past her detained windpipe. She doesn’t need to try as hard when his opposite arm shimmies up over the poorly-cushioned sleeping bag, when his hand clamps against her mouth, palm smushing over her lips. Instead, her high whimper catches on his skin and muffles out. Her nostrils flare over his digits when Harry shushes and chastises through grunts.
“I know, baby. I know. Need you to be — shit — a good, quiet girl for me, though.”
Her irises nearly loll back into her skull, fluttery for the ceiling of fabric in their sockets at the dominating tone of his cadence.
“Gonna be good for me? Make me—“ his words taper off when he muzzles a groan with the seal of his own lips, and what comes out is hushed, and masculine, and obviously bridled. But it doesn’t make her as hungry as when he beckons, “—Make me pleased with you?”
Because she wants to please him, wants to be good, wants his digits to press harder over her tongue when he slinks them into her mouth. It’s not her fault when the motion siphons a whimper. So Harry does — press harder that is, an inclination for her lips to wrap over his fingers, his chin tucked over her shoulder. His mouth presses to her temple, gracing her with puffs of air through his nose as he rocks into her.
“There we go,” Harry coos, soft and barely over a whisper when her mouth seals over the intrusive digits, “There’s a good girl. Let’s keep those pretty sounds to ourselves.”
He rocks into her until she’s whining into his hand, until they’re really slick with sweat, and he’s grazing at his own peak, working until it unravels him from the inside out. She’s still making hushed sounds against his palm when he groans all low into her hair and his motions melt into something stuttery, when he empties ribbon after ribbon as she clenches over him and milks him through it.
He’s probably going to rifle through the dark for some discarded fragment of fabric to clean the mess. It’ll be haphazard on account of the night, and she’ll still feel the sticky remnants, dried up at the peaks of her inner thighs in the morning. But it won’t really be gross. Sort of a sordid, morning-after keepsake, sort of a dirty thrill as they pack their stuff among the others in their cohort. Sort of, probably, an excuse to fuck later in the day when they have a moment alone to themselves, reminiscing on the night before.
But before that, he’ll probably clean his mess and run a hand down the vale of her side in a praising caress, like he normally does. Probably lay next to her for a bit before sneaking off to his own tent because, even though they’re just friends that fuck, he’s never been weird about cuddling — aftercare is sort of a must. He’ll probably say goodnight with another searing kiss, the kind that burns deep inside, because every time he leaves is kerosene actively poured into the pit of a bonfire. Because every time he leaves, she wants him more.
Tomorrow they’ll still be friends.
Just friends that fuck.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles one shot#harry styles smut#harry styles dirty one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#dom!harry x sub!reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles au#fwb!harry#fwb au#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles one shots#dom!harry
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FICTOBER DAY 13- Taunt
Helloooo. I hope you enjoy, sorry about the wait!!!
This is a blurb from Dirty Business hehehehe.
FICTOBER
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“Are you trying to taunt me?” His rough voice traveled through his office, eyes peeling over Y/N’s costume. She rested with her hands braced on the dark wood of his desk, her slightly unbuttoned blouse giving a peek into the lack of bra that was hidden underneath.
Harry had been working in his new and improved office, leaning over his keyboard and writing a scathing email when his door had been unlocked from the outside. Only one person held the key to this place, so he knew who it was, but he was very surprised to see the vastly different outfit his lover had on. Tight black pencil skirt, tempting stockings clinging to her legs. Her shirt was a stark white button up with a slightly relaxed collar, black buttons going up most of it until it reached the middle of her tits- where she so kindly had left a bit unbuttoned for his viewing pleasure. He could hear the clicking of her patent leather heels as she approached the desk, her red painted lips smiling at him as she had greeted him with a ‘Hello, sir.’. She even had her hair up in a smart bun with a pencil tucked behind her ear.
“I don’t know what you could possibly be talking about, Sir. I came to check on you, because obviously you’ve had some grueling work.” Her painted pout went straight to his crotch, matching red nails tapping over the cold wood. “It’s the day before Halloween! I know you take your job very seriously, but don’t you want a break?” Her pout morphed into a nymph like grin, leaning further over the desk with her dip of her breasts showing just a bit more- and as much control as Harry normally held, Y/N was his true weakness. Anyone who had eyes would know that.
She had dressed up as a sexy secretary, a tempting wet dream right in front of him. He had been stressed all day and she knew he was going to be late home for dinner, so instead she had come to him. He held a lot of love for this woman in his heart but it seemed to grow each and every day. Both the costume and her thoughtfulness, knowing and sensing when her partner was frustrated and needed to take a break made him horny.
Y/N had often told Harry he was working himself to the bone- and he was. He had to prove that he deserved his position, he didn’t actually get it just because he was with the owner’s daughter, so he spent many nights on his computer and putting in double the effort. While Y/N knew and understood once he had explained it to her, she didn’t like that type of strain on him, so the giving girl made her her personal and very serious mission to make him relax.
“Come on. Don’t you want to have something sweet, Sir?” Her heels snapped against the ground as she rounded the desk, Harry’s arms crossing over his chest as he watched her approach. He would probably not get this email done, but watching her fingers pop another button on her shirt made his jaw clench up and suddenly, that prospect was okay. “Anything you’d like… Just let me know what you need, and I’ll let you have it.” Her body moved to stand between his legs, sitting her bum against the lip of the desk and taking his hands from their folded state to grab her hips.
Harry was only so strong, squeezing her hips as he glanced at her with a narrowed glare. “I’ve got things to do, Y/N. I pay you to be my secretary, not my caregiver. But…” He looked down at her chest, feeling her soft hips in his hands and his cock throbbing in his briefs. “If you want to be any good at your job, you can go above and beyond this once.” Removing his hands, he moved his chair back and gestured to the floor. “I want to cash in on that something sweet. Get on those knees and suck me off. Want to cum down your pretty little throat to take the edge off.”
Y/N’s smile widened, looking giddily at him as she immediately did as asked. It took her a second, hiking up the skirt so she had a bit more mobility, falling to her knees as her greedy hands immediately went to his belt. “Thank you, Sir. You won’t regret it.” She whispered, nudging her cheek against the trousers on his thigh. This little roleplay was something she had stashed away for their halloween party adventures, but thank god she had a backup. Harry had been at the office overtime for all week, and she wanted to make him feel good, damn it.
The moment her mouth was wrapped around his prick, Harry’s shoulders began to deflate, leaning back in his chair as he watched the red lipstick smear on his skin, her lips stretching around the girth. Perhaps she was a bit overzealous in her quickness to take him further down, gagging on him and startling him slightly as he tugged her up by the hair and sent her a look. “Careful, pretty thing. Love hearing you gag around me, but be careful with it. There’s no rush.” He released her hair, chuckling as she went back down and licked up the excess saliva on him before popping him right back into her mouth.
“There we go. Cleaning up your messes, such a perfect little thing. Taunting me into taking breaks, love distracting me. Don’t you?” her hum against him made his thighs tense, vibrations making him groan. Y/N was no stranger to what he liked, but it still amazed him that she was so fucking good at it.
Time moved as he leaned back in the seat, guiding her with his hand as she bobbed up and down on his cock, feeling his balls tighten as she pulled back to lick over them. It was a weakness, a garbled moan leaving his throat as he pushed her further into them, her mouth suckling at them and her hand messy as it stroked him quickly, firmly. The wet sounds filled his office, along with his harsh breathing, and he was stupidly close. He had good stamina usually, but the combination of everything had him feeling it in his gut as he pulled her off of his balls with a wet sound from her mouth.
“M’gonna cum.” He whispered. “Stick out your tongue, baby. There we go, lay it flat.” He took over, smacking the tip of his cock over the pink muscle as he felt his balls pull up, groaning as he felt it. “Here it comes, angel. Take your treat.” He watched the stripes of cum spurt over her soft mouth, over her tongue and lips as she blinked up at him with her bambi eyes. Streaks of mascara had fallen a bit down her cheek from making herself gag a little, but it was a picture perfect scene as his toes curled in his shoes, mouth open as he finished on her tongue.
#jarofstyles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#harry fic#harry styles fic#fictober#jarofstyles fictober#jarofstyles fictober 23#Harry styles fluff#Harry styles angst#dirty business#Harry smut#harry fluff blurb#Harry blurb#Harry styles Halloween
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just a little taste* (2)
warnings: smut, oral, angst, mentions of cheating
pairing: masseuse harry x reader
masterlist | taglist
previous part | series masterlist
~
harry’s breath is caught in his throat as he registers what’s going on, blinking a couple times to make sure this is real life. after a few moments of baited silence, he’s come to the conclusion that this is, in fact, not a dream. “darling, wha-,” he clears his throat, the words coming out a bit shaky. “what are y’doing?” he finally forces out.
her tongue swipes out to wet her bottom lip before she’s pulling away as if she’s been burnt. “oh! ‘m sorry, i shouldn’t have assumed. i just thought i’d return the favor since you were just so good to me,” she rambles, going to step away, albeit mortified, but she’s stopped dead in her tracks when she feels two hands cradle her face gingerly before his lips are pressed to hers once more.
he presses his body as close to hers as he possibly can, his tongue now fighting to explore her mouth. he’s a bit confused, though, when she places her hands on his chest to push him away a bit. “no,” she states with a firm shake of her head, causing him to furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “if you want it, you’re going to have to tell me you want it, i’d rather have your spoken consent,” she explains, and he’s practically melting in relief that he hasn’t fucked up what he’s sure is the best thing to ever happen to him.
she has a small smile on her face when he nods eagerly, his chest heaving just a bit. “yeah, y-yes. i’d love for you to return the favor, darling. just the sweetest little thing,” he rushes, a dimpled grin on his face as well.
now that she has full consent, though, she’s going to go all in. she steps away from him, just a hair, to drop herself onto her knees, the plush carpet beneath her giving her some comfort. her mouth is nearly watering as she reaches up to free his hard cock from where it resides, and she has to stop her jaw from dropping when he’s fully out and in front of her.
he’s so pretty, so long and thick and wet. he’s literally leaking for her, his cock twitching in front of her as he watches her eye him up. he reaches up with his right hand and runs his thumb over her bottom lip to grab her attention. “‘s it pretty, darling?” he teases, causing her to let out a whine and nod enthusiastically. “y’so sweet, baby, but ‘m gonna explode in a bit if y’just keep staring,” he chuckles. “do y’wanna maybe put it in y’mou- fuck, angel,” he’s cut off with a moan as she reaches up to grasp him and place her mouth on him all in one go, her tongue licking all around the width of him as she goes deeper.
once his cock is lubricated enough with her spit, she begins to bob her head to give him some more pleasure, a shocked moan of pleasure leaving his lips when she takes him so deep that her nose grazes the bottom of his tummy. “angel, fuck, i- y’doing so well,” he’s gasping as he reaches for her head but pulls away as he doesn’t know if she’s okay with that.
she notices his struggle and pulls away for just a moment, still stroking him quickly as she does. “s’okay, you can touch my head. i don’t mind it,” she ensures, not even sparing another glance as she goes right back to work on his cock, needing to taste more than just his precum on her tongue.
and harry just swears to himself that he’s landed an angel, she was such a sweet, innocent thing when he’d first entered, but now he knows who she really is, what she really needs. she needs someone to make her feel good, to put her in her place, to make it hurt. she needs some reprieve from her everyday life. and that’s what he’s going to give her.
he can’t give it much more thought, though, when he sees her reach up, and before he can register what’s going on, she’s got his balls in her hand, playing with them as she still uses her mouth and other hand diligently. the overwhelming feeling cause a choked gasp to leave his lips, his hips involuntarily bucking forward and hitting the back of her throat.
she gags just a bit and so he starts to pull away but she just follows him, managing to get even sloppier. the sounds that are coming from them are so vulgar, so lewd that harry has to grip onto the cart behind him to keep himself upright. how he’s reduced her to a filthy, slutty mess the neither of them know, but they also don’t want it to end.
harry feels his cock start to twitch and his balls start to draw up almost painfully as his orgasm approaches out of nowhere trying to give her a warning but he can’t even form a single coherent thought. “angel, angel, fuck, please. please, i’m-,” she swallows around him then, cutting his sentence short as he plummets into bliss, his thighs quaking and a noise that resembles a guttural groan falling from his mouth.
shortly after, yn feels the warmth of his cum coating the back of her throat with short spurts, and she swallows every drop eagerly. she hasn’t stopped the movements of her hands or her mouth, and she doesn’t until she feels harry pull away from her with a whine of overstimulation. resting her weight down on her heels, she looks up at him with the most innocent smile as if she didn’t just drain him for everything he had.
the smile he returns is lazy but genuine, exhaustion quickly seeping into his bones as he attempts to catch his breath. when he finally feels like he can move without falling to the floor, he takes one last breath before helping yn up, pressing his lips to hers once again. they have a silent conversation as she steps away, grabbing her clothes. he fixes is own and helps her put hers on to the best of his ability, his moments a bit sluggish.
they share a couple more quick kisses that threaten to turn into something more again, but they stop them just before they go that far, knowing they’ll end up passed out on the floor or the massage table, and that’s not a great look for anyone that comes in. she gathers all of her belongings before asking him if he needed any help, to which he declined of course, but he had one last request.
“same time next week?” he questions, dimpled grin on full display as he rubs a warm hand along her hip.
“same time next week,” she reiterates. they quickly exchange numbers and when they’re done she leans up to press one last kiss to his lips before she’s heading out and closing the door behind her, walking toward the entrance. when she passes the front desk with a wave, though, she doesn’t miss the way jessica’s eyes don’t quite find hers, and how her ears are bright red, an indication that she’d definitely heard what just went down.
yn gets in her car without another glance to the building, a new feeling of relaxation and confidence radiating throughout her as she drives home. the ride home is quick and peaceful, and she stops to get her favorite sushi on the way. she hops onto her couch and turns on a random movie when she arrives, digging into her sushi.
as soon as she pops the first piece in her mouth, though, her phone that had been sitting on the coffee table in front of her lights up along with the sound of her ring tone, an indicator that she’s received a call. reaching forward, she can’t stop the smile that quickly forms on her face as she realizes it’s harry making sure she’s made it home safely.
after answering and ensuring him that she’s safe and comfy as she watches a movie with her sushi, the two somehow find themselves in a conversation about their favorite things to eat. he tells her that he knows a great place for pad thai and that piques her interest, never having tried that before.
he clears his throat on the other line. “well, how about after our session next friday, we can pop by there so you can try it out?” he questions, his heart nearly in his throat as he awaits her response.
“i’d love to,” he can hear the smile in her voice. “it’s a date, then,” she chuckles, testing the waters.
“it’s a date,” he whispers on the other end. they fall into a comfortable silence for a moment, just listening to the other’s breaths until she starts laughing. he’s laughing along too, despite the fact that he doesn’t even know what’s going through her head. her laugh is just so contagious. “what’s so funny?” he questions, his smile bright on the other end.
“it’s just,” she starts, stopping to laugh a bit more. “it’s just that an hour ago i was on my knees in front of you with your cock in my mouth and now you’re asking me on a date. ‘s just a bit backwards, is all,” she teases, and he laughs along with her once more.
“you’re so right, it is. but now we’re all in, no going back now, hm?” she agrees and they fall into silence again before they decide to end the call, promising to see each other next week.
~
so then it becomes a weekly thing after that. every friday after yn gets off work, she heads straight to the parlor for a massage and her happy ending, the two stopping by a restaurant when they leave, talking about everything under the sun. every single friday night ends in a sweet kiss as they part ways, the both of their hearts warm and full as they head to their homes. they’ve got a nice little routine going, and it’s fun and it’s easy, until it’s not.
the next week when yn comes in for her session, the door is closed. a frown forms on her face when she realizes, and she has to check her watch to make sure she hasn’t gotten the wrong time. she hasn’t, and so she’s even more confused as she heads back to the waiting area once more.
stopping at the front desk, she leans her upper body against it as she waits for jessica to finish speaking to a client. they've gotten fairly close over the past few weeks, so she trusts that she'll tell her what's going on. she looks over to her with a smile as soon as she's finished speaking, a bit confused since she's usually in the back by now.
"hey, jess, do you know where harry is? i just went in the back and the door was closed, didn't seem like he was in there," she explains, watching as the furrow in her friend's eyebrow only deepens.
"he should be in there, have you tried knocking yet? i haven't seen him come back out," she responds. yn has an odd sinking feeling in her stomach but she brushes it off, thinking that maybe he’s just lost track of time or something. turning on her heel, she goes back to the door and knocks firmly.
there’s no answer on the other side, but she knows he’s in there because the light is on. now she’s worried something’s happened to him, so she hurriedly turns the knob and opens the door. her eyes trail around the room until they land on harry. who is…perfectly fine.
she’s even more confused now, but then a small smile forms on her face when, upon fully taking him in, she sees that he has his airpods in, his back to her as he prepares the oils. he just couldn’t hear her. so she steps further into the room to tap him for his attention when he speaks up.
“no, allison. i won’t be home for dinner tonight,” a frown forms on her face as there’s a beat of silence.
who could he be talking to? as far as she knew, he lived alone. her questions are answered pretty quickly when he speaks up again. “it’s the same conversation every night!,” he exclaims, sounding exasperated. “i will not be home for dinner, and i expect the mess you made in our bed last night to be cleaned,” he sighs.
our bed? a lump forms in her throat. who is allison, and what sort of mess did she make in their bed? yn’s heart is full on thumping inside her chest as all of the possible scenarios play out for her. she’d begun to subconsciously step backward as her mind reels, stabilizing herself at the doorway when she makes it back there.
“allison, please. and for the love of god, could you please stop calling me when i’m at work? i’ll call you when i’m on the way home,” another beat of silence as the woman on the other end gets louder. “so now you’re monitoring my purchases? what i do in my free time doesn’t involve you, it doesn’t matter if you’re an account holder, stop trying to keep me on a leash,” he practically spits, and that’s all it takes for yn to take that final step out the door and close the door behind her, the slam startling harry even with his noise cancelling headphones.
the dull thud causes harry to jump, taking out one of his headphones as he takes a look at the time. his heart drops as he realizes yn would’ve been here at this time, and he has a strong feeling that the noise he heard was the sound of her leaving.
“no, no, no, fuck,” he spits, hanging up the phone and tossing it carelessly to the side as he hops up from the chair. he makes a run for the door, but he’s met with an empty hallway, and so he hurries to the front. the lobby is completely empty save for jessica, who looks at him with a confused expression, wondering why yn left so abruptly. she doesn’t dare ask, though, because the way harry is bright red with a heaving chest is off putting enough.
she wouldn’t have had time to, either, because as soon as he notices that yn’s car is gone from the parking lot he turns back to the hallway and goes into his room to retrieve his phone. his hands are shaking as he rushes to find her number, pressing the call button and putting the phone to his ear. straight to voicemail.
“fuck!” he bellows, hanging up to try again. voicemail once again. he stands in the middle of the room for a moment as he contemplates what to do. he doesn’t know where she lives or works, he only has her number and this time on fridays. he can only hope that she’ll come back next week, but he’s got a feeling that he’s really fucked up this time.
harry calms himself down for a few minutes as he cleans up his station that he’d prepped, gathering his belongings to head home for the night. he hurries past jessica without a word or a glance, hopping into his car and throwing his stuff in the backseat before peeling out of the lot.
it’s no surprise when monday he comes in with red puffy eyes and a bottom lip bright red from all the biting he’s done, but he’s surprised that jess is scowling at him and ignoring him, passing him the schedule for the day without a word. so yn told her about what she’d heard.
the week drags on so slowly he’s unsure he’ll make it, and when friday finally rolls around again he has just an inkling of hope that she’ll show. even just to talk, maybe yell at him. but after he finishes the clients and her normal time approaches, he waits and waits until the parlor closes, thinking that maybe she’s just running late.
he heaves out a sigh as he closes up the parlor, hopping into the car and resting his head against the wheel. after a few minutes of thought, he decides it’d be best to try and push her into the back of his mind, even though he’s definitely run away the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
~
one month later
“h, really? it’s been a whole month and you’re still mooing around. it’s not like you guys were even together or anything,” mitch grumbles, fed up with his friend’s dull behavior. “so get in the shower and get some clothes on. i’ll be there in an hour or so, around 9…..and shave too, please,” he requests, hanging up the facetime call without waiting for a response.
harry just sighs in defeat as he realizes his best friend is entirely correct, but decides to wallow for a couple minutes more before he finally pushes himself off the couch and heads toward the bathroom.
he’s honestly quite relieved that he feels just a tad better when he makes himself presentable again, but the cleaning up does not take away the pain entirely. he finds some clothes and puts them on just as his phone begins ringing once more, mitch’s name appearing on the screen. he gives him a small smile when he answers. “ah, there he is! i bet you feel a lot better,” he teases, but it’s all in good nature as he’s really glad his best friend is making an effort. “i won’t say i told you so….” is the last thing harry beers before the call ends once more.
grabbing some shoes, he puts them on and grabs his keys before he heads out to where mitch is waiting, a forced smile on his face as he hops in the passenger seat.
~
walking into tap and slide, the most popular bar in upper manhattan, harry expects to feel something new. something, anything other than the dull ache that’s seemingly permanently nestled deep in his tummy. it seems as if the harder he tries to push yn from his mind, the more she appears. he takes a glance around the crowded bar and sighs deeply when he realizes that this scene will do nothing to help him.
his friends are already scattering to different parts of the building, seeing people they know or that they’re attracted to. so he’s left standing there near the entrance with a slump in his shoulders, and when he feels a body brush against him particularly hard, he forces his feet to move forward toward the bar. when it’s his turn, he orders himself a whiskey sour and heads off to find a booth to reside in until his friends feel like leaving.
and so he nurses the whiskey for as long as he sits there, eyes flitting around the room for anything that catches his attention. he’s sat there for about an hour, beginning to get too deep into his head when he sees her. he hadn’t looked toward the entrance the entire night, but for some reason he felt compelled to look that way at that exact moment.
when his eyes land on her, in the cutest black dress and small kitten heels that her perfect for a night out, his heart speeds up substantially. he nearly drops his half empty glass on the table, his hand shaky as he manages to set it down. his eyes don’t leave her frame as she moves deeper into the building, not until someone is tapping her shoulder and causing her to turn to them.
a frown forms on his lips when he realizes that it’s jess with her, and that she’s pointing at him as she speaks to yn. a scowl is set on her face and she rolls her eyes every couple words as she very obviously warns yn of his presence. then yn is speaking, still not turning his way as she gets closer to jess. whatever she says causes jess to place a hand on her arm with a sympathetic frown, moving the two of them toward a booth on the other side.
jess double checks that yn is okay before moving to the bar to grab them some drinks to sip on for the night, and he knows it’s so wrong, but harry takes that as a chance to make his move. sliding from the booth, harry pushes through the couple of bodies that block his path and makes his way to yn, who is now typing on her phone.
then he slides into the booth across from her, watching as she looks up with a smile that’s quickly replaced with a hardened look of anger, a face he’s never seen before. he swallows quickly and his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip before he speaks. “i know i don’t exactly deserve this for not being honest with you, but do you think i could just get a few minutes? i’d really like to explain myself,” he chooses his words carefully, not really giving away any details, which frustrates her.
she’s huffing out a sigh of annoyance and cuts her eyes to jess, who is fully immersed in a conversation with mitch before she looks back to the man in front of her. “whatever. you have five minutes, and i expect the truth,” she spits, leaning back against the back of the booth and crossing her arms against her chest.
she really should’ve stayed home tonight.
"im married," he finally admits to her, watching the way her breath hitches before a scoff leaves her lips. “i’m married, and i have been for the past five years.”
~
cliffhangaaaaaa kinda?????😩😩😩
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