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#harry styles dirty imagines
goldenharystyles · 2 years
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could you maybe write something where harry and yana have sex when she's on her period? I am always way more sensitive and turned on during mine and I think that could be so good 😵‍💫
I think ill write this one. guys I've exam in 50 days I need to study.... I'm writing one smut now which'll be out soon...... after 50 days I'll make as many pics you want
I might be busy rn but my requests are open just send them I'll write them afterwards.... love you all.....💟
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1800titz · 2 months
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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)
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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.
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harryistheonlyoneforme · 10 months
Note
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
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~
“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!!!
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cinemastyles-backup · 6 months
Text
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
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"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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tsumtsumrry · 2 months
Text
Second Visit
the long-awaited heavily requested part two of Doctor's Orders
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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. 🤍🤍🤍
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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.” 
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harryxmarvel · 10 months
Note
Can you do an angst piece where they have a 3 year old and everything has been really crazy but H is spending the most of his time working and not helping y/n? Bonus points if an ex girlfriend comes back into the picture
Expect
Summary : Harry prioritised work over his family
Pairing : famous!Harry x reader!y/n
Warning : but of angst, fluff , none of the personalities of the characters are real. Purely fictional!
A/n : not really an angsty piece tbh but hope you like it :)
My masterlist
Taking care of a three year old while being 5 months pregnant is not an easy task and while y/n had been down playing it as no hard work to everyone asking her ,it was bad. With a popstar husband busy writing the album of the year he seems to have neglected his family and was yet to realise it.
Although y/n was working from home she missed dressing up and going out and enjoying the weather or having her favourite ice cream in the park. But the most she missed was her husband who was working late yet again he couldn't join them for dinner. Their little baby daughter asking for her father before her bedtime for a kiss but how could y/n explain to a three year old that he was working, he was so busy to take some time to spend with his family.
It made her think back to the time when they decided to have a kid and Harry promised to always be there for them but now y/n was worried. Sure he always came back but she needed him here. She needed him when her morning sickness left her tired, she needed him to help her around the house and most of all she needed him to take care of Avery and her even for just a minute.
Her swollen ankles and the bump making it hard for her to do things in their house but Harry had no idea as he climbs into bed at 4 in the morning apologizing for waking her up and by the time y/n wakes up to prepare Avery's breakfast and lunch he was already long gone.
Y/n doesn't even remember the last time they had an actual conversation face to face. He sends texts every now and then to check up on them but that was it.
Y/n was in the shower, she swore off baths since she couldn't get up on her own and had a wave of mood swings had hit her so she had called crying to Harry to come help her up. It was a fond memory now they laugh about. She hears the bathroom door open sending her in high alert as to who it could be. No one has the key or the passcode to the front door except Harry but he was at the studio so who could it be?
She silently peeks through the shower curtain to find Harry with an apologetic look on his face. "Hey, what are you doing here?" Y/n asks suddenly very aware of the fact she was naked with how Harry was eating her with his eyes. The water droplets and pregnancy glow was making Harry crazy enough he was half hard but he gulps it down stammering as he speaks "wow, you are glowing baby." He says eyes running all over her body. And y/n blushes because truth was with how busy he was they hadn't had sex in weeks and Harry loved to love on her when she was pregnant knowing she has some doubts about her body changing. "I just ......I didn't know, I'm sorry. We were just there to celebrate and she just -" Harry stops mid sentence at the confused look on y/n's face as she wraps herself in a towel.
"H, what are you talking about?" She asks getting out of the shower with harry helping and walks towards their closet grabbing a pair of underwear and Harry's shirt as she takes a seat on the bed.
He looks guilty as he murmurs something trying to get away from this situation but he perks up when he sees her questioning look"Kendall...." Was all he had to say for y/n to realise he had messed up big time.
Kendall was obsessed with Harry and she was Harry's last ex-girlfriend before he found his soulmate. Y/n had nothing against her untill Kendall decided to ruin their life by constantly showing up on their dates making both of them uncomfortable. Kendall even turned her whole mass of fans against y/n when she found out they were engaged. She had been trying to sabotage their relationship from the start and against all odds y/n and Harry were truly happy and tried to deal with the situations calmly. But y/n was human too she was jealous when some other woman's hands lingered a bit long for her liking or the eyes on him as he works out or goes out for a walk but she never complained about it and accepted that this was who he was. The was a celebrity and people were always going to be curious about him and his life which she was a huge part of.
But to know he was out partying all night celebrating a song they completed with Kendall of all people broke her poor tired heart. She sits in silence as Harry looks distressed waiting for her response. Y/n never raised her voice. Even with Avery she was firm but her voice never raised so he was a bit taken aback when he hears her "How long are you going to keep doing this Harry?" She had asked anger evident in her tone.
Harry had told everything that happened how Kendall was stuck beside him all night and got really drunk enough to try to kiss him which he thankfully dodged but the pictures on the internet looks like they were kissing but Harry promised y/n that didn't happen.
"Why do you keep letting her mess up our lives? How long do I have to act like it doesn't faze me? I know you wouldn't cheat but I don't trust her. We had this conversation years ago H and you keep doing this again and again it's so hard for me to believe she just keeps coming back after so many rejections from you." With doubt in her voice y/n avoids his eyes, hers filled with tears.
"no baby, I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. Kendall is nothing to me. You know I try to avoid her as much as possible" he says firmly making his point but that wasn't the biggest problem.
"It's not just that...." Y/n had been wanting to talk to him about his distance but with how unavailable he was they hadn't had a proper conversation in days.
"What is it?" Harry asks with worry.
"I get it, I really do. I get that people expect from you. I know you are working hard to provide for us but you are getting too involved to even spend time with us Harry. It feels like you don't care about us anymore. Of every person who expects from you, as your family don't we have the right to just expect you to be here for us?" Y/n questions her eyes meeting his stunned ones as he swallows the new information.
His heart beating rapidly as y/n doesn't wait for his reply as she walks out of their shared bedroom.
Harry stands still in his spot, seconds pass....minutes pass as y/n's words keep echoing in his mind and he sees it . How he had been neglecting his family. Harry is left with guilt as he thinks about how he hadn't been present at all to help y/n. He didn't even know her cravings or how the last ultrasound was. He didn't know if their baby was healthy and it teared him apart.
He falls on his knees as realisation hits him, he was going to lose the love of life. His glossy eyes decipher his little baby running towards him with a stuffie tucked under her arm as she hugs him tight. "missed you daddy" Avery sweetly says nuzzling her face into her father's neck as Harry hugs her tight scared he might lose her soon.
It was right then harry decides to honour his vows. Like he should have before. He vowed to always always be there for her and promised that y/n and their future family will always be his first and foremost important priority.
The next few days he stays home and takes care of Avery and helps y/n around the house. But she still wasn't convinced and wasn't talking to him. When he tucks Avery after reading her a bed time story he finds his wife cuddling under the blankets with a romcom playing on the tv.
He sits beside her and pulls her closer and y/n immediately relaxes beside him nuzzling further into his warm chest. Harry cradles her bump as he says "I'm sorry baby, I really am. I'm sorry i didn't realise it sooner. I'm going to be here from now on. You guys means the world to me and you are everything i need."
"It's okay bub, I'm glad you are here now that's all that matters" y/n says lightly kissing his jaw.
Harry cranes his neck and finally attaches his lips with hers. Their lips move in sync as harry pulls y/n onto his lap his hands roaming around her body settling on her bump.
"I love you" harry says eyes meeting hers and y/n whispers the words back and reattaches their lips.
Y/n was glad harry came back. He kept his words and promises and started working less hours, cooked breakfast for them, dropped Avery at her preschool , took care of y/n and they finally felt like a family again.
A/n: I hope this was up to its expectations anon. since most of you voted for happy ending, but some of the requests may have a sad ending.
send in any requests:)
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angelisverba · 2 years
Text
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
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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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jarofstyles · 6 months
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FICTOBER DAY 13- Taunt
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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. 
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fallingsolonely · 1 year
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Heaven & Hell
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Warning: This one-shot contains dark and sexual content.
[This is an edited version of a one-shot I wrote a few years ago, I hope you enjoy!]
Theme: Demon!Harry
Word count: 12.8k
~~~~
Earth. What a magnificent paradise. Created perfectly in my father's image.
I've been reading about it for years. I've been begging for almost a millennia to visit.
Aristol, my brother and also, in his words, my 'superior' has long refused. But I'm finally getting my chance.
I finally got my first assignment on Earth.
Aristol is furious about it, I know he's been going behind my back to Mariella and telling her that 'I'm just a child and can't handle a place like Earth, let alone go on this assignment'
He was adamant that it should be him.
1. I am not a child. I'm not much younger than Aristol as much as he likes to claim.
2. I have proven myself, I've done all my studies and I have trained for this my entire life.
As stunning as Earth is, I am well aware of the way it has been corrupted.
But where there is a storm, a rainbow is not far behind.
I've been on Earth for almost two weeks now. Europe. I've only seen maps, to be here is surreal.
To see how my father's creation has grown into what it is, it's amazing.
Humans are fascinating to me.
I'm not meant to interact much, but I can't help it.
Especially my assignment. A beautiful little boy by the name of Isaac.
A prophecy that came to the angels attention exactly 12 years ago, the day he was born.
I like to look at Mariella as a mother figure. She believes in me, pushes me to be strong.
Shes our link, almost like what humans would call a telephone.
She speaks directly with our father and 12 years ago, we received a message about a little boy with astounding power.
For the first 11 years of his life, he would be protected from the most awful parts of the world and the creatures who surround it. But, when he reaches 12, his presence would officially take hold and all creatures would become aware of him.
Which is incredibly dangerous.
That's where I come in. Angels have been preparing for this little boys 12th birthday for a long time and we have put as much protection on him as we can.
I've been assigned to watch over him.
I was strictly told not to interact with him. Just watch.
On my first day of observing him, he knew it.
He touched my hand and the first thing he asked me was if I wanted to get icecream with him.
It's almost like he knew. Treating me like he's known me his whole life.
I've never tried food of any kind before, but it's amazing.
Icecream, it's sweet and cold and comes in so many different flavors I feel dizzy when I have to choose.
For the last two weeks I've been meeting Isaac at the Icecream truck in the park near his house.
Power radiated off of this little boy and he seemed to have no clue about it. But I can see it in the way he talks, he's smart. He's intuitive and extremely wise for only being alive for a mere 12 years.
After trying icecream, I went and tried all the food I could. It's so amazing to me the things humans have created. I think my favourite is coffee.
It makes my body tingle in the strangest way.
So now, every day before I meet up with Isaac, I stop in this quiet little coffee shop.
I love watching them go about their day, humans.
I'm so grateful to the lady named Eileen who makes me a different kind of coffee every time I come in.
She's so sweet.
I don't understand Aristol's hatred towards them. The way he talks about them, like every single human is corrupt.
But it's not true. Not in the slightest.
Life, is beautiful.
"You're practically one of them" I jump slightly, looking up from the paper I am reading.
Aristol.
"I told Mariella you were to young and stupid for this assignment" He shakes his head, looking me up and down.
"You better start acting like an angel before someone snuffs you out"
Hes bitter about being pushed to the side.
"I think I blend in better like this" I smile at my brother and sip my coffee.
"I've been doing well, watching over Isaac. He's safe" He looks at me with disgust as I drink the coffee.
"We'll see"
With that, he's gone.
How Aristol doesn't see the beauty of our fathers world, is crazy to me. It's beyond incredible.
I walk along the path towards the park and to my surprise, I see Isaac.
I only see the back of his head, but he's sitting next to someone.
Hastily, I make my way over to them.
"(Y/N)!" Isaac smiles widely when I come up to them. Next to him is an unfamiliar man in a black suit.
"I made another friend" He's so happy about it. Smiling ear to ear with an icecream in his hand.
"Isaac, you should be more careful" I say it softly to him, but I can feel myself becoming more protective.
"Don't worry, pretty thing, I'm not going to hurt him"
I watch as Isaac goes to touch the man's hand, but before he can, the mystery man stands to his feet.
Already, the energy feels strange.
He stands tall, looking over me.
"Just keeping him company" The man smiles at me, scanning me with bright green eyes. In his hand, he has an icecream. As he looks over me, I watch as he licks the vanilla flavored cone.
"Enjoying this sweet little dessert" His smile turns into a smirk.
"He found me like you, (YN)" Isaac says, still smiling. Excited to be making friends.
"(Y/N), what a beautifully angelic name" He turns away from me and looks down at Isaac.
"I'll be seeing you soon, young man" He bends down to Isaac's height and smiles.
Then, he stands back up and looks at me while licking his cone. He stares me down for a moment before turning and walking away.
I can't help but feel weary as I watch him leave.
I turn to Isaac and then kneel in front of him.
I place my hand on his cheek and smile.
"I need you to be careful, Isaac" I say seriously.
"I don't want anything bad happening to you, you're special" He hugs me tightly.
"I'm sorry if I worried you, (Y/N). I'll be careful" I hug him tighter and then pull back.
"Whenever you meet someone who wants to be friends with you, I want you to touch their hand" I take his hand and hold it tightly. I know he can feel my energy through touch.
It's an ability he's unaware of even possessing.
"Okay" He agrees, holding one of my hands with both of his.
_______
I'm still worried.
The appearance of the strange man is still haunting me. Something about him isn't right. Luckily, Isaac's house is a safe haven. Enchanted by sigils meant for protection. Not even Angels can enter through it.
But to be sure, I don't stray far from his home.
The sun has set and the city is quiet.
Sleep, a source of energy humans need. I don't quite understand it, but Isaac loves to tell me about it. About the dreams he has.
Visions of someone protecting him.
Visions of shadows that he calls nightmares.
I don't like hearing about those ones, I'd do anything to make them go away.
Emotions are something all creatures feel, including angels. It's something we have to learn to control, I'm still in the learning bit.
Aristol tried to use it as an excuse for why I was unfit for this position.
At the moment, fear is swirling through me. I've never encountered the creatures that were rumored to roam the Earth.
But as I make my way around Isaac's neighbourhood, I can feel the piercing sting of someone's eyes. Like I'm being followed.
Isaac's house is on the other street, I should find a place closer to settle for the night.
Usually, I'll explore in the hours of darkness. But tonight, I'm scared.
I peak down an alley. A shortcut.
My instinct is to teleport but I don't want unwanted attention and I can already feel eyes on me.
I step into the alley. It's not super long, thankfully and in the darkness of it I feel a little safer teleporting.
I go to close my eyes, to bring myself to Isaac's street but before I get the chance, a hand clamps down over my mouth.
"Make a sound, I clip those pretty wings"
The voice whispers in my ear.
"You try anything, that precious boy is good as dead" He warned.
My first thought is to tear him away with whatever power I can, but then he mentions Isaac.
An innocent little boy.
I stop struggling against his hold on me and suddenly everything is black.
He pulled something over my head, blinding me from seeing who he is and where he takes me.
Instantly I know he's not a creature of Earth when we teleport. Not long after, I'm pushed into a chair and cuffs are tied around my wrists against the arms of the chair.
"If you're a good girl for me, perhaps I'll takes these off. Just a little precaution for my sake" He whispers, pulling away the fabric that he had put over my head.
I open my eyes and I'm met with green.
The same green eyes I had met with Isaac in the park.
Instinct takes over me and I try to get myself loose.
But my power is gone. I look down at the straps on my wrist. Each one scribed with a dark power binding sigil.
I'm trapped.
When he chuckles, I look up at him.
"No use trying with those on, love" He smiles at me.
"W-What are you doing?" I can't help it. I'm terrified.
"A little birdie told me an angel was coming to town" I look over him, he's dressed in all black, all the way down to his shoes.
"Expected more of a fight from you, angel. Never seen one give up on a fight so easily" He kneels down in front of me, our eyes level.
In a flash, I watch as each little vein in his eyes grow dark until they are black.
A demon.
Children of my fallen brother, Lucifer.
I've never met one. I never wanted to meet one. They were soulless and wicked.
"Is this your first time meeting a demon, sweetheart?" He stands up to his feet, smoothing out the suit jacket he's wearing.
The smile on his face is sickening.
"What do you want?" I want to be confident, stand my ground but my voice is quiet.
I'm so afraid.
I don't know what to do. I'm stuck.
"I'd love nothing more than to suck the sweet little soul out of your body" His smile is unwavering, his thumb running over his bottom lip as he stares at me.
"I can only imagine how it tastes-" He leans over me, biting his lip.
"So tempting, I can practically smell it" I try to push myself away from him, his hand coming up to my cheek.
His fingers are warm, burning my skin but I shiver at the feeling.
He leans down closer to me, closing his eyes and taking a breath.
"Sweet like icecream" When his eyes open again, I watch the black recede. They are green again.
"Look at you, so afraid of me. It's intoxicating" His fingers trace my jaw and then he steps away.
"So fragile" He chuckles some more.
"I'm sorry, darling. It's just amusing to me that out of all the assholes they could have sent, they sent down....you" He laughs even more.
"Sounds like a set up to me, darling. Do you really think you can protect something that everyone is looking for?" He's smiling, mocking me.
It makes me angry. I'm not weak.
I struggle against the restraints, but nothing. Not even a sliver of power.
"We know he's hidden in the area you were lurking" He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a blade. He looks it over and then back at me.
"We want the same thing, angel" His smirk makes my stomach turn.
"To see that little boy take on the world. Or more favorably, take out the world" He takes a step towards me again, twirling the blade in his hand.
"You just have to tell me his exact location" I close my eyes tightly when he begins to point the blade towards me.
"I'd hate to ruin this beautiful face" I take a deep breath when I feel the tip of the blade on my cheek.
Delicately, he moves it over my skin.
He pulls it back and I open my eyes. It's still pointed at me.
I look up at him.
"Please..." I can't do this. I can't tell him where Isaac is. I'd die to protect him.
"Please" He mocks me, rolling his eyes.
"So many things I want to do with this" He smirks and looks at the blade.
"Perhaps in another meeting, angel girl" He brings the knife down and cuts the straps binding my wrists.
"I know you aren't going to try anything, so obedient" He hums and brings his free hand up to my face. Before he can touch me, I think about breaking his hand and it does.
My power is back.
His face twists in pain for just a second before he snaps it back into place.
He glares at me, his eyes black again. He grabs me roughly, pulling me out of the chair and then grabbing my throat.
In an instant, I'm shoved against the wall.
"Try that again, I dare you" He squeezes so hard I struggle to breathe.
I want to kill him. But I can't. It will just put Isaac into more danger.
"Killing you would bring me so much joy, but no answers" He loosens his grip but his hand is still locked around my throat.
"So how about this, if you don't tell me where he is, I kill everyone on the entire block instead?" I glance around the dimly lit room. It's small. The only thing in it is the chair I was strapped to.
"Why do you want him?" You know the answer already. He's powerful.
Power is the only thing these creatures care about.
"To many questions, darling and not enough answers" I can see him getting frustrated.
"What's your name?" I reach out my hand to touch him and when I do, he drops his hand from my throat and backs away from me. He's visibly angry. The knife in his other hand is clenched in his fist.
"Tell me where he is or when I find him, I'll cut his heart out" He snapped, raising the blade at me again.
"Please, don't hurt him. I'll do anything. Just please, don't kill him" I'm desperate, I beg with the soulless man and look into his darkened eyes.
"Kill me instead, don't hurt him" His demeanor changes just slightly.
"Every angel I've met, I've never met one like you" His knife is still pointed at me, but his voice is calmer.
"So, emotional" He steps towards me again.
"My guess, you don't even know what the child is" He comes so close to me, I hold my breath.
He brings the blade up again, pushing my hair away from my face. He smiles a bit and then takes the knife away, putting it back into his jacket.
"But maybe we could think of something" He leans in even closer to me, bringing his lips to my ear.
"You'll do anything?" He pulls back to look at me, his eyes now back to green. He bites his lip.
I nod quickly, completely unaware of what's going on in his mind.
I will die to protect Isaac and if death is my fate, I will accept it.
"What is this little angel willing to give up?" He wonders, his hand coming up to my face. His finger running along my bottom lip.
I want to bite it right off, but I know it won't end well so I refrain.
"Anything, just promise me you won't hurt him"
I go to reach out to him but he grabs both my wrists and pins them against the wall.
"Sorry, angel. Demons don't make promises" He leans close to my face.
"You're just going to have to trust me, can you do that, baby?"
I know I can't. I can't trust something like him.
Hes vile and nothing good will come out of trusting him.
But what choice do I have here?
I look at him and then nod a little bit, his smirk becoming more wicked.
"What a good girl" He placed his hand on my cheek and stroked it gently.
It burns my skin like his fingers are laced with poison. But the rings on his fingers send shivers up my spine.
"Tell me, honey, just how innocent are you?" His voice is quiet and menacing.
I didn't know what he meant.
"Never got this pretty white dress dirty before?" I look at him, confused. It seemed to edge him on even more. Like he enjoyed it.
I shake my head at his question, why would I get myself all dirty?
Heaven is clean, pristine.
I miss it. Heaven is safe and pure.
"Angels, all work and no play" He leans in so close, his cheek is almost touching mine. His lips are by my ear.
"What do you do for fun, darling?" His breath is warm and I can almost feel the stubble from his face.
"I-I don't know"
Hes so close to me I feel like I'm suffocating. His scent is overwhelming.
"Would you like to know what I do?" He takes a breath, his lips touching my skin for just a split second before he steps back from me.
The blade he had put away, he takes out again.
I can't begin to imagine what a demon would do for fun.
I don't want to know.
"It depends on how I'm feeling that day, honestly"
This is it. He's going to kill me.
"Carving is fun" He brings the dull part of the blade to my cheek and out lines my jaw.
"I would have so much fun carving you-" He licks his lip.
"But that's not the fun I'm in the mood for tonight" He continues to trail the blade down my neck. I watch him.
"Call me crazy, angel. But I like you. So different from your waste of space siblings" He knicks my flesh with the blade, making me wince.
It only takes a moment before the wound heals it self.
"It just brings me so much pleasure seeing the fear in your eyes" He glances up at me.
Finally, he pulls the knife away. He puts it back into his jacket.
"Would you like to have some fun with me, baby? I'd say it's the better option"
I look away from him, still not knowing what he wants from me. What could he possibly want to do with me?
"W-What do you want to do?" I stutter on my words, avoiding his stare.
"Been with many things in my lifetime, never an angel" He smiles. But I'm still so confused.
I can't figure it out. I don't know if I want to.
"So clueless" He laughs and grabs my chin, making me look at him.
"So innocent, it makes me sick" He looks right into my eyes, holding onto my face tightly.
"Kind of hot" He glances down, looking at my lips and then back up to my eyes.
"Please, just tell me what you want" I plead with him. I'm done with his twisted games, I feel like I'm going crazy.
I have no idea what is happening.
"I want you, pretty angel. I want to taste these sweet looking lips" His thumb outlines my mouth.
"I bet they taste just as good as your soul would" He licks his lip again.
I go through the library of books in my mind, suddenly putting together what he desires.
"Copulation?" I look at him, not any less confused.
But fear rises in my stomach.
Copulation is apart of the human experience on Earth, meant for procreation. Angels can't procreate.
Even in my human form, procreating is impossible.
I've read about it, I've studied everything about the human species. I know pleasure is something humans crave and Copulation is supposed to be a joyful experience.
I know it is, it brings new life. It's amazing.
But angels are forbidden from participating in such an act. It wasn't meant for us, it's not something we crave.
I've never even thought about something like that.
For angels, it's immoral.
"So technical" He chuckles quietly.
"Have you ever felt pleasure, my darling angel?" He asks, his fingers replace the blade. They trace my skin and take the same route down along my jaw.
I can't even think about it.
There's whispers of angels who have strayed, they were never seen again.
I quickly shake my head.
"I can't. It's not meant for us" I whisper, looking at him.
"You're missing out, pretty thing" He looks at me for a moment and then backs away from me.
"Pleasure is not a sin. Why would your stupid father create something only to pick and choose who gets to enjoy themselves?" He runs his hand through his hair and smiles at me.
"W-Why do you want to do that with me?"
I look him over, he's tall. Intimidating.
"So perfect, I want ruin you" He bites his lip and stares me down.
I'd die to protect Isaac. I'd do anything.
"You won't hurt Isaac?" I ask, meeting his stare that I had tried avoiding.
He smirks.
Fear completely sinks in. If I were to be caught doing something like this, especially with a demon, I'd loose my wings.
"I just want to make you feel good, there's nothing sinful about that" His green eyes are sparkling as he looks at me.
"Why? Why haven't you just killed me?"
It's so unclear, it would be much easier for him to just get rid of me.
"Most angels I come across, usually do have that fate. Hate those arrogant fuckers" He shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
"But you, my darling, are different. Sweet little thing, innocent" He came towards me, sliding his hands up my arms.
"They all act so pure, but you should know darling, that some of your siblings are just as bad as us" He blinked, his eyes appearing black again. He brings a hand to my throat.
I take a deep breath, looking at him.
"Hm, but not you, princess" He pulls me closer, his grip getting tighter.
"You truly don't want to hurt anyone. It must be awful-" He laughs.
"Hurting people is so much fun" He squeezes hard and then let's go of me.
"So, untouched. Just the thought of putting my cock in you drives me crazy"
His words make me flinch.
Being on Earth, I've heard some of the language they use. Some words, are extremely inappropriate.
"But, I am not the type to force pleasure onto someone. I don't need to, creatures of all kinds love to throw themselves at me. I'm like, God to them" I get angry, disgusted with way he threw around my father's name.
I try to hide it, knowing he's trying to get a reaction out of me.
"What do you say, my angel? Do you want to experience pleasure you've never dreamed of?" He asks, his smile wide.
"What's your name?" I ask, my voice soft.
I vowed to die for Isaac. I will protect him no matter the cost.
"Why does it matter?" He crosses his arms.
Hes right. I don't want to hurt anyone, or anything. Not even the darkest ones. I just want to help and protect.
Most demons, were once human. If I could find that part of him, maybe this will be easier.
"Please?" I whisper, reaching up to place my hand on his cheek. His jaw clenches and he shoves my hand away from him.
"It's only fair, you know mine" I say quietly, looking up at him.
His eyes are far from innocent.
"Harry" He looks at me, his hardened state softening slightly.
"Harry..." I repeat his name under my breath. Looking down at my feet.
I wonder if that it's the name he had before he became lost.
"Isaac will be safe?" I look back up at him, his eyes now green again. I prefer the green so much more. It makes him look human.
"Perhaps" He nods just a bit.
But, he won't confirm it. He won't promise me.
Trust is the only thing I can do.
How do I trust a demon?
"You won't hurt me?" I look at my hands, they are shaking a little.
I've never even thought of doing something like this.
"So many things I want to do to you pretty girl, hurting you is not one of them. At least, for the moment. I've got other plans for you" He grabs my face and makes me look at him.
"Can't lie to you, angel. Killing you and bringing your pure little soul to hell is a dream I will be having later" He strokes my cheek.
"Maybe another day" His smirk is sinful. My breathing picks up, thinking about it. Going to hell.
"If you'd rather leave, there's the door" He backs away from me again. Giving me space.
I glance at the door. I think about teleporting away but I think of Isaac.
My mind races when I feel a pit in my stomach. Not of fear, but curiosity.
What is it about pleasure that everyone seems to desire?
"Reading people is a talent of mine, darling. I can see those pretty eyes swimming. Is this little angel feeling a sense of curiosity?"
I want to say no to him. But I can't because he's right.
My stomach turns.
I shake my head, trying to push away the feeling.
"I'm doing this to protect Isaac" I whisper, more to myself than him.
I hate it, I hate the feeling inside of me. I don't want to be curious about anything.
Never once, in my millenia have I thought about unnatural desires.
"Isn't lying a sin?" He's mocking me, I can see it.
Nothing has happened and already I feel disgraced as an angel. Thoughts I shouldn't be having are creeping into my mind and I don't know what to do.
"I-I'm not lying" I try to stand my ground, but my brain is crumbling. In his eyes, I can see the joy. I see how much he loves watching me have a moral crisis.
"Can you feel it, angel? The heat starting to burn between those cute little thighs?" He wonders, his hand sliding into my hair and pulling my face close to his.
At the mention of it, I instinctively tighten my legs together. I don't know what it is, this feeling. I don't want to feel it but I can't help it.
With each inch that he moves closer, it burns even more.
"Come on, I have a place a little more comfortable" He brushes my lips with his own, and my stomach flutters.
"Although, bending you over that chair and fucking your brains out would be very fun"
My whole body burns at his incredibly dirty words.
He smiles and grabs my hand.
In a flash, we appear in a bigger room. Against the wall is a cleanly made bed.
"Where are we?" I ask, looking around the room. The window is boarded up, preventing me from looking outside.
"Don't worry about it, darling" He says, a devilish smirk on his face.
He reaches next to my head, flicking the light on.
I try not think about the fact we could be in someone's house, what may have happened to them.
"You're so tiny" He chuckles and pushes me against the wall.
"So fucking pretty" His fingers run along my face, stopping at my lips for a brief moment before he continues down my neck.
I'm nervous, my knees feeling weak.
I'm about to throw away every rule an angel has.
But my stomach tingles when I think about his lips brushing mine.
Desire fills my consciousness and I'm scared.
I want him to do it again.
"Nervous?" He asked, pushing some of my hair behind my ear and then cupping my cheek.
He leans in, lightly pressing his lips to mine again.
The sensation of it makes me want to pull him closer.
I pull back from him, looking into his eyes.
I have no idea what I'm doing.
"I-I don't know what to do" I whisper, shyly glancing at his lips and then back at him. He smiles.
"How about-" He's so close to me, I'm getting dizzy.
"You kiss me, pretty girl?"
Our lips were almost touching. I've never been this close to someone in my entire life time.
Hesitantly, I copy him and place a hand on his cheek. Hoping he doesn't push me away again.
I look at his lips and then his eyes. I lean up towards him and close the small gap between our lips.
It lights my body up in a way I can't describe. I still haven't got a clue to what I'm doing but I try to follow his lead. I move my lips with his and I wonder if what I'm feeling is pleasure.
It doesn't feel bad. It doesn't hurt. It just makes me weak.
His hand moves slowly down my body until he reaches my thigh. He lifts it up against his hip, pulling me off the ground.
"Lift your other leg for me, baby" He mumbles and I listen to him, lifting up my other leg.
Roughly, he pushes his mouth against mine. One of his hands is holding my leg and the other slides to the back of my neck.
I find myself wrapping my hands around his neck, pulling him closer to me. The taste of him sweeter than anything I've ever tried.
He pushes his tongue into my mouth, his grip on me getting tighter with every moment.
I can't do anything about it, but an unfamiliar sound vibrates through me.
His tongue is even sweeter than his lips and I hate it. I hate how good it feels.
I can't understand why I'm feeling like this, how can something so dark make me feel so alive?
My body betrays my mind, it's craving. Desired to be touched, to soothe the ache between my legs.
My toes curl when he slides his hand under the fabric of my dress, pushing it up higher than it already is.
"I bet that cunt tastes like heaven" He pulled his lips back from me, and all I want to do is bring him back. He kisses down my neck, his prickly stubble tickling my skin.
I can't help but giggle at the feeling of it.
He pulls back to look at me.
"What are you giggling about?" He has an amused expression on his face.
My face heats up and I look away from him.
I still don't know what I'm doing.
"It tickles" I whisper and he smiles a little bit.
"Does it feel good?" He leaned back in towards my neck, kissing along my skin.
I don't want to admit it to him. I don't want him to think he's winning, but he is.
It feels amazing.
"Y-Yes" I breathe deeply, leaning my head back against the wall.
His lips continue to kiss on my skin, his other hand drawing circles on my thigh.
"Such soft skin, angel. So clean and perfect" He breathes slowly, it travels down my spine and makes me shiver.
I gasp, his teeth sinking hard into my skin. It stings but something about it makes me ache even more.
"Oh...." I grab his shoulders. My body weakening even more when he begins to suck. I bite my lip, stopping myself from letting out another noise.
It's embarrassing, the things my body is doing in response to this. I don't know how to stop it.
I don't know if I want it to stop.
"It's quite annoying that I can't leave any marks on this stunning body"
I smile a bit at that, a mini victory. It's funny that's he annoyed by how fast my body regenerates.
"You think it's funny?" I open my eyes when his teeth sink into my bottom lip.
He growls, definitely annoyed.
He leans back from me slightly and with his hand that was in my hair, he brings it to his jacket.
I think for a second that he's grabbing the blade again, but instead he pulls out a bottle.
Instantly I smell it, grimacing slightly.
Holy oil.
But there's nothing holy about it. It's a weapon used against angels. It's one of the only things that can burn our skin.
It's not permanent, but it takes much longer to heal from it.
"I wonder what would happen if I put some of this on my lips?" My eyes widen at his suggestion and he smirks.
"I like to leave my mark, darling. Have to make you remember me somehow" I watch as he opens the flask and brings it to his mouth, coating his lips and tongue. He shoves the flask back into his jacket and leans towards me.
I try to lean back from him but the wall stops me.
Just barely his lips brush over my jaw, the oil stinging my skin. I run my hands into his hair and grip it tightly, trying to pull him back.
"Harry!" I cry out when his teeth clamp down on my neck again.
This time, it burns.
The oil coating his mouth burns my flesh and I yank on his hair, trying to pull him back.
It's so unfamiliar, holy oil burns. It hurts, it's not pleasant.
But I feel pleasure and I can't comprehend how he makes it feel like this.
"Hm, that's better" He whispers in my ear, his lips coming back to mine.
Most of the oil had dissipated from his mouth, but there was a trace left.
I can feel the little needles of it against my lips.
But when he kisses me, I kiss him back eagerly. Ignoring the slight burn of it. He still tastes so good.
I'm horrified by the pleasure in my body.
I shouldn't have enjoyed it, but the feeling of his lips mixed with the burning did something to me that I can't explain.
"Would love to leave some marks all over this body, baby" He leans back into my neck, his tongue licking over the burn he created.
I fight against the sound that bubbles in my throat, still in disbelief that my body is twisting in pleasure.
My legs tighten against him, I desperately wanted to close them.
There was an ache, pulsing between my legs that I can't control. His hand that rested on my thigh made it even worse. He pushes my dress up higher and his hand comes down to my other thigh. His eyes still locked on me.
"You can't hide your desire from me, (Y/N). Those pretty little moans tell me exactly what you're feeling" He brushes my lips, his hands moving towards my inner thighs.
My breathing picks up and I look down at his hands.
My dress is pushed as far as it can go, and I know he can see my under garments.
It makes my face warm up, because he can feel the heat that's coming from them.
"Maybe I'll leave some marks on these thighs" He squeezes his hands, his lips kissing down my throat and towards my collarbone.
This time, I'm unable to keep the sound from coming out.
It's the thought of what it might feel like, his lips between my thighs coated in oil. It stings, but he makes it feel so good.
I don't know why I enjoy it. I can't even begin to think about how I'm enjoying any of this.
"You like that sound of that, baby?" He pulls back and smirks.
I shake my head, I don't want to admit it.
"Remember, angel, lying is a sin" He chuckled and moved his hands higher on the inner parts of my legs.
"You don't see me lying to you" He grabs my face with one of his hands.
"I'm going to bring you over to that bed and fuck that sweet little innocence out of you" He forces me to look at him while he says it. I bring my hands to my face, hiding from him.
I couldn't help but think about it, trying to imagine what it would possibly feel like.
"Now tell me, sweetheart, do you want me to touch you?" He rubs my thigh gently and smiles at me.
"Soothe the ache I know you're feeling" He chuckles a little bit, but I'm still covering my face. It's so warm, I feel embarrassed.
"Trying so hard to hide it from me.." He grabs my wrists and pulls them away from my face.
"Am I right, angel?"
I can't explain the emotions he's making me feel. I feel weak at how easily he sucked me into temptation but I wanted more of him.
Angels are strong, but how can I even call myself that?
I didn't put up a fight. I gave into him so quickly.
I am weak.
I pull my hands from his and bring them to his face. His skin is warm, despite his nature.
I haven't gotten the chance to really look him over. I bring my thumb to his lips, copying what he had done to me. I trace his lips, my eyes trained on them.
I can feel his stare, watching me intently.
I don't say anything to him, my voice is caught in my throat. Instead, I gently pull him to my lips. For just a moment, it's almost soft.
But quickly, he pushes his tongue into my mouth but I don't mind. It tastes sweet, like a candy.
"My little angel, you might want to ask your father to look away because I'm about to do some very bad things to you" He whispers against my lips.
He pulls us both away from the wall and grabs my hips, planting my feet back on the ground.
"So, modest" He hums and looks me up and down. I look down at what I'm wearing. A simple white dress that reached my knees. I think it's pretty. I've always loved white.
He tightens his grip on my waist and backs up until his legs reach the end of the bed. He sits on the edge of it, making us eye level to eachother.
"How about we take this off?" He slides his hands from waist up to the back of my dress.
I bite my lip, nodding at him a little.
Angels, when on earth, have a human form. It helps us blend in. It also helps us understand humans more. We don't have to worry about trivial things like sleeping, or going to the bathroom but our bodies function pretty similarly. Of course, Angels human form is much stronger than a regular human.
Harry's eyes don't leave me for a second. Hardly blinking as he pulls the zipper of my dress all the way down.
I take a deep breath. Becoming more nervous.
I've never been undressed in my life.
He slips his hand under the fabric and runs his hand up my back.
Hes so warm.
He pulls on the fabric until it falls to my ankles and suddenly I'm bare. The only thing covering me is my white under garment.
I quickly cover my chest, scared.
Hes not rough about it, but he grabs my arms and pulls them away, putting them at my sides.
"Don't be shy with me, angel. I think your body is delicious" He spreads his legs and pulls me between them. He brings his hands to the back of thighs and rubs them gently.
"So perfectly made" He bites his lip, his hands sliding higher.
I gasp when he slaps me and he laughs, his hands squeezing my behind.
"Something tells me you'd love to be bent over and whipped. I know I'd love to" He squeezes harder and I wish I could find an explanation for why it makes my body tingle so much. Not just his touch, but his words are making the heat between my legs burn.
He leans forward, his lips connecting to my skin just above my breasts. I run my hands up into his hair, lightly pulling at it.
"Been with many in my lifetime, none compare to you, angel" He squeezes the back of my thighs.
"Softest skin I've ever had the pleasure of touching" He continues with his lips on my skin, lightly biting down.
"I can only fucking imagine what it's going to feel like burying my cock in you" My legs stiffen at his words, trying to stop myself from feeling whatever it is that's raging through my stomach.
"You like it when I talk dirty to you, baby?" He pulls back and smirks at me.
"I-" I stumble on my words, trying to convince him that I don't. But my body doesn't agree. Every word, every touch makes me ache for more.
His smirk gets more wicked at my lack of words.
With a quick movement, he lifts one of my legs up onto the bed next to him, I grab his shoulders to keep myself from falling.
This position makes me feel much more vulnerable to him.
"Do you even notice how soaked you are, angel?" He laughs to himself, running his hand up my ankle until he reaches my knee.
He slows down a bit, tip toeing his fingers along my inner thigh.
He brings just the tip of his finger between my legs, pressing against where I had been dying for him touch.
"Can't wait to taste this perfect little cunt"
Just the small amount of pressure makes me buckle and I feel like I'm going to fall over. I go to pull my foot off the bed but he grabs my ankle and stops me.
"Nuh uh, honey. You're keeping your leg up for me" He warned.
"Or, I can tie you down onto the bed and have some fun with this" He pats the pocket of his jacket, referring to the oil.
My grip tightens on him.
He's hardly touched me and my body feels overwhelmed.
There's so many unfamiliar feelings swirling through me.
"Harry" I whine his name, looking at him and his sinful smirk.
"I don't play games, sweetheart. You listen to me, or you suffer the consequences" He slides his hand back up my leg, his fingers returning between my thighs.
"So sensitive, angel" He does it again, gently running his finger along me.
Instead of just once, he goes back and forth.
My leg wobbles and I try very hard to keep myself from ripping away from him.
It feels so good, I don't know how to handle it.
"Just wait until it's my tongue playing with this cute little clit" He pushes down harder and it takes all my strength to keep from falling over.
"Bet I could make you come without even taking these off"
I don't like the noises my body is making but I can't help it, I don't know how else to respond to how he's making me feel.
"Noisy little thing" He chuckles and pulls his hand away, pushing my foot off the bed and letting me plant it on the ground.
"Hm, can't get over these pretty legs" He traces his finger tips up and down the back of my thighs.
He brings his hands to my hips and hooks his fingers into my underwear.
He glances to my eyes and then begins to pull them down until they fall to my ankles.
I'm completely exposed to him now. I get nervous and close my legs tightly, trying to hide myself from him.
He stands up off the bed, suddenly much more intimidating.
"So, shy" He brings his hand to my cheek and strokes it for a moment.
"Be a good girl for me-" He taps my nose.
"Lay on the bed" He steps to the side and crosses his arms, watching me.
I listen to him and get onto the bed, laying my head on the pillows. He's still fully clothed, it feels unfair.
He stares at me for a moment before following my path and climbing onto the bed.
"Spread your legs, baby"
At the moment, they are closed tightly.
I look up at the ceiling, away from his intense eyes.
Slowly, I open them. I take a deep breath and shiver when I feel his hands on my legs.
"Such a delightful sight, angel"
I get the courage to look down at him, he's on his knees between my calfs. His hands delicately tracing my skin.
"I bet this sweet looking pussy is begging to played with" His touch is so, gentle. It's making me want more.
I can't even begin to imagine what his tongue would feel like between my legs.
I feel dirty just thinking about it.
I watch him lay down, lifting my thighs onto his shoulders.
I feel so vulnerable. I'm so nervous but I want him to touch me. My body is begging for it.
His eyes are locked on mine, his lips and teeth connecting to my thigh and making my toes curl. I don't know what to do with myself.
I shyly bring my hands down to his hair, the feeling of it soothing my nerves. I like the way his hair feels in my hands.
Without thinking, I pull on it, attempting to pull him closer between my legs.
Desperation is what I'm feeling.
He notices it right away. His eyes instantly looking up at me again.
"Is it starting to hurt, baby? Aching so bad, dripping down your thighs" I shuffle my legs, ignoring him.
I don't want him to be right. But he is, I need it.
"If you want something from me, angel-" He sinks his teeth into my flesh for a moment and then smiles.
"You've got to ask for it" He says, his face turning serious. I kick my legs in frustration, I don't want to ask him. I barely understand what's happening to me. I can't believe a demon is making me feel like this.
But in my subconscious, I'm questioning it.
Why aren't we allowed to enjoy ourselves?
Why isn't this something all creatures are allowed to experience?
He laughs at me kicking my legs, roughly gripping my thighs and stopping me from moving.
"Use your words" He kisses my thigh again, his lips going higher.
It feels like I'm on fire and the only thing that's going to cool me down is his tongue.
I don't know what to say to make him give me what I want.
"Please" I whisper, running my fingers through his hair. He smiles a bit.
"Please, what?" I get more frustrated, yanking on his hair but all it did was make him smile more. I know he's enjoying it, seeing how frustrated he can get me.
I don't want to say it out loud. I don't want to admit how badly my body is begging to be felt.
"I-I don't know what to say" I whine, trying to shuffle my legs again but he's got a tight hold on me.
"Beg me to touch you, angel, and maybe I will" He sucks lightly on my thigh.
"Or I could leave some pretty marks on your thighs" He bites down harder.
More unfamiliar sounds leave my throat, his teeth in my flesh stinging just slightly but I like it. I hate it. I hate all of the thoughts running through my head. All of them about him. His dirty words on what he wants to do with me. I don't understand it, but I want to.
"Harry, please-" I take a deep, shaky breath.
"I need you to touch me" I plead with him, hating myself for giving him the satisfaction of exactly what he wanted to hear.
"Such a good girl" He whispers, kissing even higher up my inner thigh. I watch him closely, noticing his hand letting go of my thigh and coming inbetween my legs as well.
"Is this what you want? Hm?" My whole body shudders when his fingers run along me. It's already an overwhelming sensation.
"You're so wet, baby. Smell like heaven" He breathes against my flesh and I try to move my hips closer to him. He chuckles and moves his other hand that had been holding thigh, up to my stomach and locking his arm around me tightly. Preventing me from moving.
Very much unvoluntarily, I squeal when I feel his tongue and he laughs, the sound vibrating against me.
It feels so good.
His tongue moves slowly and I try hard to kick my legs because I don't know what else to do. But his grip tightens.
"Harry" I go to pulling his hair instead, but it doesn't phase him. Every little movement of his tongue makes me moan. I can't control it. I hate it.
It truly is pleasure I've never dreamed about before.
He focuses in on the most sensitive part, my vision going blurry. I cry out, yanking on his hair with all my strength and he doesn't flinch. He continues to suck on my flesh until I'm a mess. I can't even think straight.
It's almost a relief when he pulls away for moment, but something in me wants to push him back.
"Tastes like honey, angel. Can't get enough"
This time it feels like his mouth completely engulfs me and I cry out even louder.
The pleasure, is incredible.
I've never felt this before in the millennia I've been alive.
My stomach is tightening to a point that I can't handle. It's the most intense thing I've ever felt.
I try to breath but every flick of his tongue takes my breath away.
"H-Harry" I try to pull him away, an unfamiliar knot in my stomach and all I want is relief. I can hardly breathe.
"P-Please"  I whimper, feeling like I'm going to burst. He's got such a tight hold on me, I can't move. All I can do it pull on his hair and make noise.
Which he seems to love.
His mouth and tongue make me feel like I'm floating, I can't describe it.
I don't understand it, how is he doing this?
Why does it feel so good?
"W-What is happen-" My body trembles and my thighs are shaking.
I'm struggling so much but he just holds me in place and continues to torture me with his tongue.
I close my eyes tightly, my back arching off the bed as my entire body tenses, lightly shaking as he doesn't stop his rhythmic movements.
It's so intense. The unexplainable feeling rips through me and his tongue doesn't stop. Not until my body relaxes a bit, and I'm panting. I try to catch my breath but my mind is so scattered, I can't get myself to breathe regularly.
"So fucking sweet, my little angel. Could eat this delicious cunt for days" I open my eyes, watching as he takes my thighs off his shoulders and gets onto his knees.
"Soaked the sheets, darling" He chuckles and places either hand on the top of my thighs.
I'm still trying to catch my breath, at a loss for words from the experience I just had. He rubs my thighs gently and looks down at me.
"That's what happens when you feel good, baby" He's still rubbing my thighs, helping me to calm down and relax my breathing. I attempt to close my legs a little bit, embarrassed at the mess I created on the bed.
He pins them down, pushing them further apart.
"Don't close your legs, I'm not finished" He warned, a hard grip on my thighs.
He holds down one and then brings his other hand between my legs.
I flinch when his fingers trace along my inner thigh, my body is still incredibly sensitive.
"Made you come so much, baby. Taste so good" He brushes over my nerves for just a second, making my body jolt. He smiles and brings his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers.
"I bet you're so fucking tight" His hand comes between my legs again but before he can touch me I reach down with both my hands and grab his.
He laughs at me and grabs both my wrists, he leans over me and then pins them to the bed.
"What?" He leans his face closer to me.
"Is your pussy too sensitive for me to play with?" He smirks and lifts my hands above my head, pinning them both down with just one of his.
"You think it's intense now, honey?" He uses his knee to spread my legs further apart then they already are.
"Can't wait until you feel me filling you up" He holds my hands tightly and slowly traces his fingers down my body.
His hand sneaks between my legs again and I whimper.
I groan when he pinches me lightly, a jolt of pleasure shooting into my stomach. I'm so sensitive, I hate it.
"You've got such a sensitive little clit, baby. Makes me wanna suck it until you squirt" His fingers lowers slightly and he makes little circles. I struggle in his hold, moaning more.
"Harry-" I gasp when his finger sinks into me.
"So soft" He hums. I look up at him, struggling again in his grasp. It feels really good, his finger slowly sinking into me. It's a different sensation and it amazes me. How can he make me feel like this in so many different ways?
He pulls his finger back, almost all the way before roughly pushing his finger back into me.
I groan, the pleasure coming from even deeper than when he was using his tongue.
"Does it feel good, baby?" He leans down and bites my lip.
I choke on my words when I feel him pushing a second finger into me, my toes curl in response to the pressure. My breath taken away.
"I wonder how I'm going to fit my cock in this tight little cunt, angel" I don't know what to say. His dirty words, I hated them. I hate inappropriate language of any kind but for some reason, I don't want him to stop. I like the sound of his voice.
"As much as I'd love to make you come on my fingers-" He pushes his fingers in and out of me a few more times before pulling them away.
"Wait-" I quickly bite my lip, not meaning to say anything out loud. But I liked the feeling, I didn't want him to pull away.
He smirks and brings his fingers to his lips, sucking on them.
"Don't worry, angel. Not even close to being done with you" He gets off of me and then off the bed.
I sit up and watch as he unbuttons the single button holding his suit jacket. I get up as well and crawl to the edge where he is. I get on my knees and watch him pull it off and set it on the ground. I reach out and grab his hands before he can start unbuttoning the long sleeve shirt he had on.
I pull him right up against the bed, with me on my knees we are about the same height.
Part of me just wanted to admire him. His features were perfect.
His eyes were my favorite. But only the green. I didn't like it when they'd go black.
I bring my hands to the buttons and slowly begin to undo them. His eyes are watching me closely.
I can't help but smile when I get a peak of his skin. I can already see streaks of ink.
I've seen quite a few people on Earth with beautiful designs on their skin.
I undo the last button and pull the rest of the shirt from his pants.
I pull the shirt off of him and let it fall to the floor.
Without asking, or really thinking, my hand comes to the design on his stomach. I trace it and smile even more. It resembled a butterfly and I wonder what it means to him.
Is it ties to the soul he may have had at some point?
I wish I could ask him, I could look, by holding his hand but he'd know it. He'd never let me.
I admire him for a few more moments, his body is breathtaking.
"I like these" I say softly, poking his stomach.
"Thank you, angel" It's the only genuine thing I've heard him say since we met.
The tone of his voice makes my stomach flutter.
I look down at my hands, trying to ignore his eyes when my hands reach his pants.
I bite my lip and take a deep breath.
I'm so nervous at my lack of experience. I can't imagine the amount of times he's done this.
I undo the button and bite my lip harder, unzipping them and pulling them until they also fell to the floor. He steps out of them, still allowing me to take my time. Which I'm grateful for.
I have no idea what I'm doing.
My fingers trace along the edge of the final peice of clothing on him. I also trace my fingers over the designs he has on his hips.
I think any form of art is beautiful. Some angels might disagree, but I do truly love art. And the ink humans put onto their skin, is an art form for them. I think that's amazing.
"Curious little thing" I glance up at him, my face heating up. I can't help it, I've never been this close to anyone.
"Sorry" I whisper, looking down at my hands again. I take a deep breath, copying what he had done to me earlier. I hook my fingers into his underwear and begin to pull them down. I pull them down as far as I can reach in my position. He steps out of them and I quickly look up at his face. He smirks, noticing I avoid looking between his legs.
He brings his hand up my back and slides his hand into my hair.
"Give me your hand" He said, not giving me much time to respond. Instead, he reached out with his free hand and grabbed mine.
My face goes even more red when he wraps my hand around him. It's hard. I can't bring myself to look, I'm so nervous.
"Look what you do to me, angel" He grips my hair and makes me look down. His hand is still on mine, guiding it along his length. I can feel it get even harder as I touch him.
He keeps his hand on mine for just a few more seconds, before pulling it away.
"Just like that, pretty girl" I bite my lip and continue to move my hand in the motion he showed me.
"Do you know why it's hard like that, angel?" I shake my head, unable to move my eyes now. I feel like I'm in a trance.
"All because of you" He pulls my head back so I'll look at him.
"You like stroking my cock, baby?" He smirks.
"Hm, I bet this little angel would be a perfect little cum slut. So obedient" I squeeze my hand around the tip, just a little bit of liquid oozing from it.
"How about, you do me a favour, sweetheart-" He backed up a little, roughly pulling me with him and off the bed. I fall onto the ground in front of him on my knees.
"Hm, the thought of fucking your throat just makes me even harder, angel" I look up at him, the look in his eye is wicked.
"But I want to fuck you, more than I want to do anything else. So, be a good girl for me and use this sweet looking mouth to coat my cock" He smiles down at me.
"I-I don't know what to do" I say shyly, bringing my hand to wrap around him again.
So many emotions are running through me.
"Spit on it" He instructs, pulling my face closer. I grip my hand tighter around him and push myself up higher on my knees. I glance up at him, his eyes not blinking for even a moment.
I look back down, trying to block out the fear. I don't want to mess it up. I want him to feel like I did. But I don't even know if I have the capability to do it.
I collect saliva into my mouth and then listen to his instruction, spitting on him.
"Now-" Before he tells me what to do, I use my hand to spread as much of it as I can down his length.
I've seen a world of art, with naked figures from the past. I never recognized it in a sexual way, but Harry's size is much larger than a lot of the art I've seen.
It makes my stomach flutter, wondering how this is possibly going to fit inside of me.
"You're such a good girl, angel" His tone is soft and it makes my body heat up. I like his praises. He moves his hand from my hair and brings it to my cheek, brushing it gently with his finger tips.
"Open your mouth for me" He says, his fingers touching my lips.
I listen to him and open my mouth. He places his hand on top of mine and guides himself towards my lips.
I lean forward, taking in whatever I can. It's not much, almost right away I choke.
He chuckles a little bit and I meet his gaze.
"Taking a lot in me not to shove my cock as far down your throat as I can get it" The look in his eye darkens slightly.
He pushes me, but not too much, but I choke and pull myself off of him. Saliva already dripping from my mouth.
"Hm, that's enough for now. Just wanted to get a little taste" He reaches down and grabs me, lifting me to my feet.
He pushes me onto the bed, my legs hanging over the edge.
"So many fucking things I want to do to this pretty body, angel" He places his hands on my thighs and shoves them apart before sliding them underneath my thighs and lifting them from the bed.
I wiggle around, realizing I have no control over this position. My bottom half is completely lifted from the bed.
He pulls me closer to the edge and I watch as he holds me up with one hand and the other wraps around his phallus.
My stomach tightens when his tip brushes against me.
"Tell me, angel. I want to hear you say how bad you want me to bury my cock inside of you" He looks down at me, his face is serious.
"I want it, Harry" I whisper, trying to move my hips closer. His serious expression turns into a smirk.
"Ask me to fuck you, baby" He says, watching as I struggle to try and pull him closer.
"But-" He cuts me off and digs his nails harshly into my skin.
"Do you want me to fuck you?" He asked, I look at him and nod shyly.
"Then say it" He snaps.
I've never used crude language, ever and my brain still can't understand why my body responds in pleasure to Harry's filthy words.
But I wanted him, something deep inside of me is craving to know what it's going to feel like.
"H-Harry, I-I want you to-" My face burns as I get flustered, trying to get the words out.
"I-I want you to fuck me" I'm almost in disbelief that I say it out loud. But Harry's devilish smirk grows wider.
"Such a good little angel" He hums quietly and then pushes against me.
I watch as he fixes his gaze directly into my eyes and slowly guides himself into me.
I can't describe it, how it feels. It's extremely intense.
But the way he pushes through my flesh is already making my vision go blurry.
I try to tighten my legs around him, so I can pull him closer. He stops me, roughly gripping both of my thighs.
Hes made sure he's in control.
"So soft, angel. Is this what heaven feels like?" I groan when he pulls almost out of me and then roughly drives into me while pulling me towards him at the same time.
I close my eyes, my hands holding the blanket underneath me tightly.
"Fuck" He breathes, quickly finding a pace that's making my eyes roll back. The pressure is unbelievably pleasureful. I don't know what to do with myself, I can't do anything. He has all of the power.
Every thrust of his hips gets harder and harder.
"Harry" I cry out his name, struggling in his hold. It feels so good.
Every moral I've held dear to me, is gone.
I'm finally able to catch my breath when he drops me back onto the bed, pulling out of me.
Every breath I take is shaky, my hands in fists as I try to calm myself.
"Sounds like someone enjoys getting fucked" I open my eyes and he's already starring at me.
"Hm, princess? Do like getting fucked?" I attempt to take a deep breath. I bite my lip and nod.
"Get up on the bed more" He instructs. I take another breath and then listen to him, pushing myself back onto the bed.
He followed me, grabbing me and without any effort, flips me onto my stomach.
"Now stick that pretty ass up for me, angel" Before I can respond, he grabs my hips and lifts me onto my knees. He pushes them apart, and his hands slide up my thighs until his fingers reached sensitive flesh.
My knees go weak when he rubs back and forth, I bury my face into the pillows on the bed. I grab ahold of one and hold onto it tightly.
"Harry!" I cry out his name when he pushes into me again without any warning.
"Yeah, angel? Does it feel good?" I whimper in response to him.
"Hm? I want an answer" He holds my hips tightly, thrusting into me at an overwhelming pace. I can barely breathe, let alone speak. He seemed to be getting even further inside me with this position.
I cry out when he slaps my butt, obviously getting impatient with my lack of words.
"I-It feels really good" I try to say it loud enough so he can hear me but I can't speak. My senses are completely over taken by pleasure.
"That's all I want to hear, angel. Those sweet little cries of pleasure" He slaps me again, but a bit lighter this time. It stings, but every part of it just adds to the knot forming in my stomach.
I'm a mess, if Harry wasn't holding my hips, I wouldn't be able to keep myself up.
I never understood humans who were driven by sex. Like it's a need. I never could have imagined that it would feel like this.
I feel Harry's fingers coming into my hair. He wraps it around his hand and then harshly yanks me up. I groan, feeling incredibly weak.
"Never would have thought an angel would be such a slut for cock" He wrapped his arm around my stomach and pulled my head back against his shoulder.
His thrusting decreases dramatically, but he's so deep inside of me and every little movement he makes sends pleasure through to my toes.
If he gets any deeper I feel like I might burst like a balloon.
He gently bites down against my shoulder, sucking on my skin while his hand that had been wrapped around my stomach, starts to lower.
I whine, knowing exactly what he's about to do and with both hands I grab his arm. I'm so sensitive, if he touches me, I definitely will burst from everything I'm feeling.
"Harry" I beg, trying to pull his hand away but he doesn't budge.
"You can handle it, angel" He whispers in my ear, his fingers once again touching me. But with him buried in me, the pleasure is immense.
"Harry, I-I can't" I whimper more, my nails clawing at his arm to try and pull him away.
I already feel so weak, I don't know how much more my body can take.
He ignored my weak little crys and moved his fingers in quick circles.
The knot in my stomach is so much tighter than when he used his tongue on me.
He rocked me against him and with that bit of movement, I can feel my body tensing.
"Nuh, uh, baby. You aren't coming yet" He pushed me off of him, pulling his hand away and out of me. I fall onto the bed and before I can do anything, he grabs me and turns me over.
He pushes my legs apart and gets on top of me.
He places a hand next to my head to hold himself up. Shyly, I reach my hands out to his face. I touch his cheeks for a moment before sliding my hands to his shoulders. He's so broad. I get distracted by the birds on his chest, tracing them each individually. I can't help but smile, they are very nice.
I glance up at him and bite my lip.
"Sorry, I just like these a lot" I whisper. He lifts my leg up against his hip and then leans down close to me. It's something I realize that I really like doing. I like kissing him.
I lift my other leg up against him, my hands coming back to hair and pulling him closer to me, connecting our lips.
He pulled back after a moment and with his free hand, brought it down my chest.
I jump a little when a shock of pleasure runs through me, his fingers lightly pulling on my nipple. He lowers his hand down and I watch as he wraps his hand around himself. He strokes along his length and then rubs the tip against me.
"Can't wait to fill with my cum, angel" He drives into me hard, my back arching from the bed at the feeling. My nails digging into the back of his neck.
Out of the positions he's had me in, I liked this one the best. He's warm.
He isn't gentle, but I enjoyed our closeness.
"Such a pretty little angel, now my own little slut" He whispered, leaning close to me again and brushing my lips. He doesn't kiss me, instead he moves his lips down my jaw.
I pull on his hair, moaning. I look between our bodies, watching as he pulls out just to plunge back into me.
I gently pull his hair again, guiding his lips back up to mine. I wanted to taste them again. I hold onto his cheeks, both of our moans being muffled by our kiss.
It's much messier, our tongues swirling together and making the pleasure even stronger. I hold him against my lips, refusing to let him pull them away from me.
He let's me do it for just a little longer before roughly grabbing my arms and pinning them to the bed.
He bites my lip before moving to my neck again.
He begins to quicken his pace again, sending me down a spiral of pleasure I could never imagine. Every second of it is...bliss.
I don't have to think, I just take in every feeling of it and it's incredible.
"You feel that, angel? Those little walls of your clenching against my cock?" He groans against my neck, teeth sinking into my neck.
He sucks on my skin again, before moving his lips up to my ear.
"Softest cunt I've ever fucked" He whispers before pushing himself up onto his knees and grabbing my hips.
My mind goes numb when he drives into me harder than he has all night. I'm crying in pleasure, my hands grabbing at his hands again.
It's so extreme, pleasure consuming every fibre of my being.
"Harry" I moan, the familiar feeling of my body tensing up.
"Is this sweet little angel about to come all over my cock?" His thrusts become more sloppy, but my mind is somewhere else.
I've never felt like this before.
It's pure bliss and I can't comprehend it.
It rips through me like tidal waves and I cry out his name repetitively as it washes over me.
"Fuck, fuck, angel" He swears under his breath, pushing himself as deep into me as he could possibly get and holding my hips tight. He doesn't pull out this time, he stops his thrusts suddenly.
I feel the release, my body still tightening around him.
"Sweet little pussy is taking every last drop from me, angel" He takes a breath, looking down at me before finally pulling out.
_____
My mind is still reeling. Trying to comprehend everything that just happened.
I watch as Harry buttons up his shirt slowly.
What's going to happen now?
I pull on my dress, reaching behind me and pulling up the zipper.
It doesn't feel real and suddenly, I feel so unclean.
Why did I do this? How could I do this?
How could I betray everything I know?
It scares me even more because I enjoyed it.
I glance at Harry, watching as he pulled on his jacket.
He hasn't said anything. Just looking at me every once in a while as he got dressed.
I didn't know what to make of him and I hate myself for even thinking about the chance of this happening with him again.
"What's going to happen now?" I ask softly.
"What now?" Suddenly, he's mocking me.
I watch in fear as the green in his eyes quickly disappears into black.
"Oh, darling" He shakes his head, laughing at me.
"You really are, so naive" I back away from him, fear filling my stomach. What's happening?
"You thought you could trust me? A demon?" He steps towards me, an evil smile on his face.
"Did you truly think you were anything but a toy for me to play with?" He follows my footsteps, but I'm stopped by the wall.
"God, it was so easy manipulating you" He scoffed, standing right in front of me.
I try to will myself away but nothing happens and he chuckles even more.
His eyes seem even darker than before.
I'm so confused, I tear up, looking at him. But his expression is unphased.
He pulls the blade from his jacket and points it at me.
"I'm just doing my job, sweetheart" He reaches down and roughly grabs my left hand and turns it face up.
"No, please don't" I cry, tears falling down my cheeks.
I'm trying to will up any power I can, but it's blocked and I don't know how.
"So stupid, I never needed you to get the boy" He snaps.
He brings the blade to my palm and traces it. I fight him, as hard as I can. I know what he's doing.
Only angels know of this curse.
I've only heard whispers of it, whispers of some of the punishments angels face when they stray.
It's knowledge a demon shouldn't have.
I do everything I can, but his strength is no match.
I cry out in pain as he carves into my hand and then, everything goes dark.
520 notes · View notes
goldenharystyles · 2 years
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I dont know why people say you write extremes. I mean there is clearly disclaimer given before the fic. If you don't like it don't read it. Prblm solved. Pls do continue your writing. I loooooove them
I'm writing one.. right now only, might take little time... but trust me I've read (harry's) almost every smut pics no one has written about what I'm writing
it's gonna be dirty 👅 and ily...... (whoever you are)💟
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1800titz · 22 days
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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
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“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.” 
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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. 
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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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Note
i remember u posting a story on your old blog about harry fingering yn in the mirror and i am going to NEED you to recreate that. i will get on my knees and beg if i need to xx
Ask and you shall receive😋
~
Yn has no clue how she and Harry ended up in this position, sat in front of a mirror with her completely naked, Harry sat behind her with warm hands rubbing up and down her thighs. She’s been feeling a little self conscious lately about her body, especially her vagina, and Harry will put a stop to that right now. He rubs at her thighs until they start to relax, a small smile forming on his face as they do.
“That’s it, let Daddy see that pretty pussy,” he coaxes, hands warm on her thighs. A soft moan leaves her lips at his filthy words, butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she complies. Both eyes are locked on the spot between her legs as she spreads them, Harry groaning quietly as he takes in the beautiful sight. He can see all of her, the wetness that’s started to drip down from between her lips, the hairs that cover her pubic bone as well as part of her lips.
He can’t help but reach down there and spread them apart with his fingers, watching intently as her dripping hole clenches around nothing. “Fuck, just look at you. S’fucking gorgeous I can’t even think,” he whispers, just running a ringed finger between her folds gently, just in his own little world.
She gets impatient rather quickly, bucking her hips to meet his hand and snapping him out of his daze. “Daddy, please,” she begs, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He wastes no more time before sinking that same finger into her, pressing in until she can feel the cool sensation of his ring against her heated lips.
The moan she lets out is full of relief when he curls that finger and hooks onto her g-spot with purpose, pulling it out just to push back in and do it again. He keeps that up until she’s used to the feeling, adding another before he decides to speed up. The pace has her grasping at his wrist with a gasp of shock that breaks off into a moan, her legs attempting to close around his wrist. Her hips pull away a bit as the pleasure grows into something foreign, scaring her a bit.
He’s not having that at all, landing a harsh slap onto her thigh before pulling it back and killing it there. “Don’t you dare try and run. You’re going to take it unless you use your safeword, and I don’t hear that so I’m not stopping,” he rasps into her ear, the dominant undertone to his voice only pushing her closer as her moans get louder and her squirms get more frequent.
“Open your fucking eyes or I’ll stop right now. Look at how fucking beautiful you are taking my fingers like this,” he demands, the words getting softer as they bleed into more comforting ones. “Such a good girl, don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he finishes, and the stark contrast between his words and his actions have her locking down on his fingers with no warning, a strong orgasm tearing through her, a broken moan leaving her lips.
He praises her the entire time, his fingers slowing before coming to a halt as she begins to float back to earth. He’s murmuring praises about how she did so well for him into her ear, her head falling back against his shoulder as her chest heaves from the intensity.
When she notices that his fingers are still inside of her she slowly opens her eyes to try and meet his in the mirror, and the dark look on his face tells her everything she needs to know. He knows her limits and he plans on toeing the line of each one of them today. Before she can even begin to protest, he’s moving those same two fingers again, the sensitivity making her mouth fall open in yet another broken moan.
“No, baby. Not done yet,” he coos, kissing the side of her head all the way down to her shoulders as her moans turn into loud sobs of pleasure, taking everything he has to offer. “Such a good girl, letting me do as I please. We’ll be done soon and then I’ll really take care of you. Y’wont even remember all those nasty thoughts anymore,” he promises.
It takes no more than two more minutes of him praising her and keeping up that pace for her to be on the edge again, and when he lets go of her thigh and starts to rub tight circles onto her clit, she’s gone rigid and her eyes have rolled back into her head as her orgasm starts to wrack through her body.
She’s silent for a moment, her breathing stopped as he doesn’t let up for even a second, and then her body relaxes and a loud squeal falls from her lips as she begins to squirt all over them and the mirror. He’s rasping out praises mixed in with filth into her ear as she lets go like never before, and by the time she’s finished her body is limp and she’s on the brink of being unconscious.
He pulls his soaked fingers out of her and licks them clean, Yn’s mind just barely registering the lewd action. She whines softly when he moves from behind her, lying her down on the cool floor before crawling around to place himself in front of her. She’s still trying to catch her breath when she feels him spread her thighs once more, and then she hears him speaking, her eyes widening a fraction at his words.
“You lie right there baby, just gonna clean you up a bit,” he whispers, settling between her thighs before taking her clit between his lips.
~
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cinemastyles-backup · 6 months
Text
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
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"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."
——
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated and don’t forget to hit follow! ♥
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goldencherryhazz · 2 years
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Don’t Worry Darling
An: so a certain trailer was released today and if you think I am mentally stable you thought wrong, here is a fic to celebrate it hope you enjoy, note and reblogs would be much appreciated <3
Warnings: tiny bit of fluff, smut mostly!!
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Harry had insisted that he showed you the trailer for Don’t Worry Darling for months but you had kept insisting that you wanted to watch it when it was released properly to the world, wanting to experience the same excitement and anticipation that everyone else would.
But nothing prepared you for this trailer.
‘Y’ready baby’ Harry asks sitting up against the headboard with you, your phone in hand as you wait exitedly for HSHQ or Olivia to tweet the trailer.
‘I don’t think I’ll ever be prepared’ a smile beaming on your face and he pulls your body so your we’re both squished side by side.
‘Love it when you get excited darling’ he kisses you forehead, and he can practically feel the excitement radiating off of you.
You don’t give him a response because as soon as he uttered those words hshq tweeted the video and it has you frantically clicking the link, you let out a scream when it starts playing, you tap his thigh repeatedly with your hand as if to tell him what was happening as it he couldn’t see what what was playing infront of his eyes.
‘I know baby, I know’ he says.
The video starts to play out, and not many words are exchanging between the two of you except for the occasional ‘oh my god’ from you and your hand slapping over you mouth at certain parts.
After a couple of minutes you phone screen turns black as the trailer comes to an end, you are breathless even though you hadn’t even moved from your spot but the rush of adrenaline and the scenes you had watched had such and effect of you.
‘D’you like it baby?’
‘Can I play it again’ was all that you managed to say.
‘Yeah of course baby’ he replies, getting the sense that you like it because of your desperation to play it again.
You click the button, the scenes lighting up you phone screen for the second time. There was something about this single video that sent something wild off inside you, you don’t know if it was the interactions and sexy scenes with Harry and Florence, the visuals and slight obscurities, how good your husband looked and got hot he sounded when he got angry in the video, the mystery of the film itself or how proud you were of Harry for getting a lead role in the film. It was probably a mixture of everything and it has you a little overwhelmed.
It finishes and your screen goes black once again ‘what’s the verdict petal?’
‘I fucking love it’ you bite your lip as you make eye contact with him for the first time since you started watching ‘I’m soo proud of you H’
‘Thankyou baby, you sure your okay seem a bit out of it’ he stokes a strand of hair out of you face.
You don’t say anything but merely nod in response as you drop the phone onto the bed, he doesn’t say anything as you manoeuvre your figure to straddle his lap and he instantly wraps his arms around you absentmindedly rubbing circles into your back.
‘Kiss?’ You request and he happily obliges captured your lips in his, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip after awhile asking for access to your mouth which you accept, he hums into the kiss as your tongues start to dance with each other.
Harry pulls away after a minute or so ‘what’s going on darling’ he asks wanting to get the bottom of what you were feeling, the way your weren’t acting your usual self has him a little unsettled.
‘Mm i jus-just’ you start but don’t find the words to finish you look away bashfully.
‘Tell me baby, no need to get shy it’s only me’ he encourages.
‘I just need you, trailer set something off inside me I just need you to fuck me please, please Harry.’ You ramble.
‘Fuck baby, got you all hot and bothered from just the trailer’ he feels his cock hardening, as it leaping toward your pussy that was nestled against him.
‘Don’t know what’s come over me, just so proud of you and you look soo good, your just soo fucking hot’ you moan as you begin to grind yourself down on Harry’s hardening length, the action making him hiss out.
‘Just soo needy for me aren’t you baby, soo desperate for my cock aren’t you’ he teases you even further.
Y-yes, fuck this feels good’ you continue to grind against him, the friction making your clit feel good even through your trousers and panties.
‘Can make you feel even better baby, fill your pretty pussy up with my cock’ he says as if it were a promise.
‘Please I want that soo much Harry’ you moan out before crashing your lips into his once again.
‘I’ll give it to you just gotta get these off of you first’ he refers to the clothes covering your bottom half, he taps your thighs gesturing for you to get up, which you do, immediately ripping you bottoms off of you legs panties, t-shirt and bra and all, and Harry gets himself situated again after he takes his clothes off aswell.
‘Fuckin gorgeous aren’t you’ he groans, his cock standing proudly against his abdomen and you can see the tip leaking pre cum in small dribbles.
You shuffle to him, before gripping a firm hand around his shaft making him jolt with pleasure ‘thought you wanted to be fucked?’ He questions your sudden change of mind as your hand jerks his cock back and forth.
‘Changed my mind, wanna have you in my mouth first’ and with that you head is ducked down to his cocked you press kitten licks to his tip and it had him moaning and groaning.
‘Does that feel good Harry’? you question, your hand smoothly jerking his cock as your mouth focuses on his head.
‘Feels so fucking good baby’ he replies. All he could think about was your sudden change in mood and he thinks he knew why.
‘You a bit jealous baby?’ he asks amidst the pleasure.
‘Things me and Florence did for the film, is that what got you like this petal, cause you don’t need to be, fuck- you have no idea what you’ve done to my heart my fucking soul, only goes out to you, I mean look at what you do to me baby’ he reassures you because he knew that you sometimes got a little insecure and he didn’t want you thinking that you had to prove yourself to him, his love was all to you always.
You obviously knew that the two were acting but you couldn’t help but get a little jealous, he was yours, the wedding ring on your and his finger being the main symbol of that, so it was pretty understandable that you didn’t like to share ‘maybe a little bit jealous’ you agree with him, the scene slightly comical since you still had his cock in your hand whilst you were having this conversation.
‘C’mere’ he points his finger into a come higher motion, so you press a final kiss to the tip of his cock making him wriggle slightly before moving into his lap.
‘I’m all yours baby, you fucking own me. Fuck when you’re in the room i can’t take my eyes off of you, why would I, your the prettiest, smartest, funniest girl I know.’ He tells you truthfully.
‘Thankyou Harry just being a little possessive I think’ you reply and Harry didn’t mind one bit, in fact the comment for some reason fuelled his ego massively and making his cock grow harder.
‘That’s okay darling, would you like to continue?’
‘Yeah, I’m soo fucking wet’ the moment picks up again, even though you were being possessive didn’t mean that you didn’t think the scenes were hot aswell, fuck your head was a flurry of whirling thoughts.
‘Gonna slip me in then angel, go slow don’t want you to hurt yourself,cause it’s gonna be deep like this’
‘I want it deep, so bad’ you moan as you line his tip up with you entrance and start to slowly slide your pussy done his length inch by inch until you were fully seated on his cock, and you both let out the loudest moans yet.
‘Oh fuck baby, gonna bounce on my cock like a good girl’ he starts to get desperate as your walls flutter around his already sensitive cock.
‘Gonna be your good girl’ you say as you start to move up and down his cock, the force if your thrusts making the noise of your skin slapping onto his emit into the room.
You are both moaning messes by the time you get a good rhythm going, his hands gripping to you hips and you know by how hard he is gripping them that there will be half moon indentations on them by the time you are done.
‘y’tits are fucking perfect’ Harry swears he is drooling over how your tits are bouncing up and down with every thrust, his cock twitches a few times inside your walls.
You carry on bouncing up and down, and eventually your legs start to shake out of pleasure and fatigue, Harry sees this instantly ‘getting tired baby, don’t worry I’ll make you cum, your gonna cum soo good for me’ he groans as he pulls you body straight onto his, your chests flushed together so you have the support you need and with that Harry is thrusting up into your soaking wet pussy, and you swear he had never been deeper, the change in dynamics had you tumbling to the edge of orgasm.
‘I’m gonna c-cum’ you moan into his neck, you have to bite down on the lobe of his ear to stop yourself from screaming at the intensity of his thrusts, the pain surging through Harry adding tremendously to his pleasure.
‘Cum for me baby, I’ve got you, soak me’ and you do just that, Harry never stops fucking into you and you were now indeed screaming out into the room, tears were streaming down your face, it was overwhelmingly good, you swear you could see stars. Harry rides out your high before he focuses on getting himself there, which didn’t take a lot.
‘I’m cumming’ he announces a mere few thrusts later and the effects were instantaneous as you feel your husband fill you to the brim with his warm cum. He stops thrusting as he becomes very sensitive from you playing with him earlier, to this. He swears he is floating on cloud 9 right now, your cunt still wrapped around him as he softens inside you.
Your body is still shaking in pleasure, you try coming back down by nuzzling your face into his neck taking a deep in breath of his cologne. ‘You okay baby’ he asks still out of breath.
‘I feel fucking amazing’ you smile into his neck which he can feel and it has him smiling aswell.
‘I love you soo much’ he whispers to you.
‘I love you to baby’
You sit in the same position for a while, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped around each other, but after soo long you both feel the cum dripping out of you so Harry starts to move from beneath you so that a mess isn’t made all over the sheets, because when Harry came he had to admit that he came a lot, but he blames that entirely on you.
‘No don’t go, stay here’ you say as he shuffles beneath you.
‘Gotta clean you up baby’
‘No don’t want you to go though’ you reiterate.
‘Who said that I would be going anywhere’ he pulls out of you slowly before moving you body to lay down on the pillows before he quickly manoeuvres himself between your legs so little mess is made.
‘Oh fuck’ you say knowing exactly where this was going.
He smiles at that ‘not going anywhere, gonna clean you up just fine, don’t you worry darling’
967 notes · View notes
cinemastyles-blog · 1 year
Text
Under My Skin
Summary: A request by @victoria-styles - “Harry and Y/N are rivals who end up having to share a hotel room.”
Warnings: SMUT18+, rough, semi forced actions, strong language, hate towards each other, unprotected sex, general FILTH
Master
DUNKIRK HARRY
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"Y/N!"
"Over here! Smile for us, y/n!"
"Gorgeous!"
The cameras flashed as the media got the pictures they needed, "Thank you." I blow a kiss to the photographers and move on to the next group.
"Y/N, if I could have a moment of your time, please." An interviewer asks. "Hello, hello." I smile and look at the camera with a wave, "How are you?" She smiles, "I'm great, how are you? Your dress is absolutely stunning, by the way! Very nice!"
I fluff my dress out, "Oh thank you, I'm just in shock, right now. I think, yeah. I'm happy that the filming is over and we can finally get this movie out for everyone to see. It's a very good movie if I say so myself."
She lays a hand on my shoulder, "Well you heard it straight from the one star of the movie, this movie is worth the watch. So, y/n, I'm sure the fans are dying to know, what was it like working with Harry?"
I was waiting for this question to pop up.
I smile, "It was very exhilarating, I will say that."
He got on my last nerve every. Single. Fucking. Day.
"You must be a fan of him-"
I hate him.
"-so getting casted in this role must have been so exciting for you!"
I nod, "Yeah, yeah. It was something. That's for sure."
Suddenly the fans start to scream louder and I look over my shoulder. The interviewer turns, "That must be him now. Y/N it was great chatting with you! Hope to see you again soon!"
"Yeah, of course." I stand there and watch the fans go nuts as Harry steps out of the vehicle. He's in a pale green suit with a black undershirt and his hair is freshly cut.
I roll my eyes, hoping no one caught that on video and I walk over to another group or photographers. I turn and show off every angle of my dress when suddenly, there's an arm around my waist.
I instantly know it's Harry, "What are you doing?" I mumble through my teeth as I continue to smile.
"Getting photographed with my co-star." He whispers lowly.
I fight back an eye roll and the urge to push him away and suck it up. I lay a hand on his stomach and smile at the cameras, giving them all they're asking for.
The director and crew always joked about us being rivals but between me and Harry, i didn't think it was a joke. It's always a competition with Harry. Who gets the most likes, the most views, who has more fans.
It's obvious he's more popular than I am, I mean fuck. He makes music too. His concerts sell out as soon as the tickets are released.
"Thank you guys!"
"Beautiful, thank you!"
"Hate you." I mumble as I turn away.
"Hate you more." He says with a wink.
As much as I try to fight it off, he gets under my skin and he knows it, too.
"Alright guys, bring it in." Montie, the director, says waving his hands for us to gather around him, "This is a big premiere for me. For us." He says looking around at everyone, "Y/N. Harry." He points to us, "You guys made this movie the best it can be and I am grateful for the both of you."
Here it comes.
"If you both can just.. he civil for this, that would be greatly appreciated."
"Oh, Mon." Harry steps up, "We're good. You don't have to worry. We've put all of that behind us."
I take in a slow deep breathe and straighten, immediately smiling and nodding as Montie looks at us, "Yeah. Great." My eyes shoot to Harry and give him a subtle snobby look.
"Great. Great. Now everyone, you know your places to walk in, so everyone get in line and smile for the cameras. Wave to the fans. You know what to do." He claps and walks over to some reporters.
"How'd you like that?" Harry asks getting in front of me, "You're welcome by the way." I look away and shake my head, "I have nothing to be thankful for with you."
He snickers, "Yeah, I gave you exposure to my fans, so. That doesn't exactly make us rivals anymore, does it?"
I step up close to him, so close I can smell his cologne, "I don't need you to give me exposure to your fans, I'd rather lay out in the hot sun in the desert in July than be anything more than an on screen lover to you."
He looks over his shoulder, "You sure it's just on screen? Because I see the way you look at me."?
"With disgust and repulsion? Because I can assure you, that is no where near love." I step back and cross my arms.
"Harry, harry, hello." A woman walks up with a camera man and a microphone.
Oh great. I fix my posture and smile incase I'm in the shot.
"Hello, Evelyn. How are you, darling?" He leans in and gives her a hug, "You we're at my last movie premiere, right?"
She nods, "Oh gosh, I'm happy you remember." Harry smiles, "What can I do for you?" She smiles and points to me, "I was wondering if I can get an interview with you and your on screen lover."
I internally gag and step up, "Hello, Evelyn is it? That dress is beautiful on you!" She smiles, "Oh thank you, something I just pulled out of my closet, but your dress, wow. It fits beautifully on you."
I smile and shrug, "I had someone to dress me, if it were up to me I'd be home in my sweats eating ice cream." She laughs, "I feel you on that one, anyway. I was hoping I could ask you guys some questions since we have a few more minutes."
I nod, "Anything you want."
"Is Lucas and Amelia's relationship on screen like yours and Harry's is in real life?"
Harry is going to jump in when I start to drown, "Well, I wouldn't say we're exactly like them, I mean in some ways, I'm like Amelia because she knows what she wants and doesn't settle for anything than less she deserves."
She nods and looks at Harry and he thinks for a moment. I brace myself for his answer.
"You know, Evelyn. I actually do relate to Lucas because he knows what he wants and he doesn't stop going after it. He's persistent with doing things he knows that will be good for him, even if, I don't know. There's a rivalry with someone he always figures out a way to get what he wants."
She raises her eye brows, "Wow. So wait, you said rivalry, does that pertain to you two specifically?"
"Oh no, no." I jump in before Harry can, "Harry and I are pals. We're the bestest of friends." I wrap my arm around his waist, "This guy, he's a funny, funny guy."
Montie comes up, thank god.
"Harry, y/n. You guys are next. I want you to walk in together, holding hands." He grabs my hand and places it on Harry's, "Act like you don't truly despise each other." He says lowly.
Harry squeezes my hand, "Ready, lover?"
"Have a good show!" Evelyn says walking away. "I hate you so fucking much." I fix my hair.
"You can't hate me, we're pals, bestest of friends." He mocks my words, "Just be happy. You can hate me later."
We walk in and the crowd cheers for us. I smile and wave with Harry still holding my hand. The media is going to eat these up.
Great.
After the movie ends, we all make our way back out to the carpet, greeting people, getting congratulated and what not.
"Hey, guys." Monroe comes up to Harry and I, "So as you know, we have some more press tomorrow and the hotel we're staying at had just enough rooms for us."
"So we'll all be in the same hotel. That's good, right?" I smile but it quickly gets ripped away.
"We all had to double up, so you and Harry are in a room, great talk." He walks away quickly and I stand there with my lips parted, trying to process what he just said.
"Well, pal. Looks like we're roomies." Harry elbows my side gently and walks over to the fans behind the barricade.
You've got to be fucking kidding me.
"Mon.. Mon.." I walk up to him, "I-I can't share a room with Harry. I'll end up killing him. You of all people should know that by now."
He lets out a stressed out laugh, "Y/N.. please.. just be civil. I know he gets under your skin, I know you guys have a rivalry or whatever it is. Maybe this will help you guys get through it. Please. I need my two shining stars to be able to be in the same room with each other."
I let out a defeated sigh, "Okay."
He lays his hands on my cheeks, "You're the greatest."
——
"Uh-uh, nope. I get the bed. You can sleep.." I lay my suitcase on the bed and look around. I then motion to the floor, "..on the floor or whatever."
He laughs, "But I want the bed."
"And I want to be able to solve world hunger." I look at him with a serious stare, "I get the bed."
"I get the bed." He argues, "You can sleep on the little loveseat. I'm too tall for that."
"That sounds like a personal problem to me." I smirk slightly and unzip my suitcase, "I'm going for a bath, when I get out, your ass better be camped out on the floor."
"And what if it's not? You going to punish me?" He laughs and I ignore him as I walk to the mini fridge, "Hmm." I look over the assortment of little liquor bottles and grab a few before I walk into the bathroom.
I undress and throw on one of the hotel robes before I start my bath. I sit on the edge of the big tub and open one of the bottles.
I down the shot and set it on the counter. Just as I start to take off my robe, Harry opens the door, "Are you hungry?"
"Harry, fuck." I bring my robe back over my shoulder and turn to look at him. He smirks, "Not like I haven't seen it before." He tilts his head, "Do you want me to order you something? I'm starving."
I nod and tell him yes just to get him out of the bathroom. He winks and shuts the door. I stand there for a moment and shake my head, "No. no. No, y/n."
I take my robe off and step into the hot bath, submerging my body under the water and amazing smelling bubbles.
I close my eyes and lay my head back. I bite my lip and slip my hand between my legs, gently playing around with my clit.
I bite my lip to hold back my moans as I work my hand faster. I arch my back off the back of the tub as I can feel myself getting closer.
The door opens again and I jump and try to cover myself up, which results in water splashing everywhere.
"The foo- ooh, and what we're you doing?" He asks frisky.
"N-Not- Harry.. I-I .." I say getting flustered, "just get out. Please." I hide my face in my hand, "I should have locked the door.
"Mhm. But you didn't." He says before walking out.
"Oh my god." I mumble into my hands, "What the fuck?!"
I finish my bath and slip my robe back on. I open the door, preparing myself to face Harry after what he walked in on. I mean, my fault. I didn't lock the door, which I should have. But I didn't? Why didn't I-
No, no. I hate Harry. I hate Harry.
"What the fuck are you doing?" I stop in my tracks as I see him sitting on the bed eating his food, "Um, eating? What are you doing? Or, not doing?" He smirks and shoves his mouth full, "Come on. Eat."
I walk over and sit down on the bed with my back facing him as I grab the plate, "Thank you."
"No need to thank me. I just figured you were too busy to-"
I whip around and cut him off, "Shut up. Zip it. We don't speak about it ever again. Okay?" He holds his hands up in defense, "Yes ma'am." He salutes me and moves him plate, "I'm going for a shower, I'm not locking the door, fyi."
"Oh my- get out." I groan and lay back on the bed, "Leave." He laughs as he walks into the bathroom. I crack open another bottle and take it, "Shit." I whisper as I crack open another one.
I sit up and finish eating. I set my plate down on the stand and lay back, switching on the tv. I click through the channels trying to find something decent to watch.
I hear the door crack open and i fight myself not to look over at him.
"Hey, Y/N."
"Hmm." I keep my eyes glued to the tv. I feel something land in my lap and I look down. He tossed me another bottle of liquor, "Have a shot with me. Celebrate our movie being an absolute success."
I pick up the tiny bottle and slowly look up at him. He's standing there with a towel wrapped around his waist and his skin glistening in the hotel light from the water that didn't dry.
I bite the inside of my lip and sit up, cracking open the little bottle. He walks over and leans down, pieces of his hair falling down onto his forehead.
"I'm done after this one." I tap the bottle to his and take it. He takes his and smirks, "Why? Afraid of the effects?" I roll my eyes, "No. I just can't roll out of bed and look good after drinking all night like you can." I look up at him, "I mean-"
"You think I look good?" He shrugs, "I think I do, too."
"You're such an arrogant son of a bitch." I scoff and throw the empty bottle at him. He catches it and tilts his head, "Hmm."
"What." I snap, "What now?"
"Nothing. Nothing." I get up and go to walk by him but he grabs my arm and spins me around to him. His hands slowly slide down to my hips. My eyes slowly gaze up his bare chest and meet his eyes.
"What are you doing?" I ask quietly. He smirks slightly and brushes hair out of my face, "Just offering to help you finish what you started in the bath."
I'm taken aback, "Wh-what?" I step back, considering his offer which I quickly brush off, "No. no." He steps towards me, "You sure, y/n?"
I lay a hand on my forehead and let out a sigh, "Harry." He lightly brushes my cheek with his finger, "y/n."
I give in. Pressing my body to his as his lips attack mine. His hands move quickly to undo my robe and push it off my shoulders. It drops to the floor and my hands go to his towel, untucking it and letting it fall.
His hands slide down over my boobs and he slips one between my legs. His fingers immediately find my clit and he takes it between.
A gasp slips from my lips and I drag my hand down his chest. I look up at him and he nods, "Please." I wrap my hand around his cock and slowly start to pump.
He moans and leans forward to lay his head on my shoulder, "You're so wet." I spread my legs a little to give him more room. He slides a finger in slowly, curling it as he sucks on my neck.
I squeeze him slightly and raise up on my tip toes, "Fuck." I groan lowly, "Harry." I place a hand on his side and push him back a bit.
He takes the indication and backs up, laying down on the bed. I straddle him and lean down to kiss him, "This doesn't mean anything." I say with a smirk, "I still hate you with my whole being."
I whimper as he slides a finger back inside of me. He leans up slightly and looks at me, "Then bend over and put your face in the sheets so you don't have to look at me."
He rolls me off of him and pulls my hips up. His hands squeeze my ass cheeks as me groans to himself, "Hate sex is the best sex. I plan on fucking you so hard, y/n."
I moan at his words and grip the sheets, "Please."
"Are you begging for me? Is that what I hear?" He leans in and licks a stripe up my pussy, "For someone who hates me so much, you sure are craving my cock. Aren't you, y/n?"
His fingers trail down my spine painfully slow, "Don't get quiet now." He leans in and starts to eat me out from behind. I gasp and moan while pushing my hips back to gain more contact his tongue.
He groans against me, his fingers digging into my hips.
He pulls back, "Roll over. I'm going to put that mouth to a better use."
I bite my lip and watch him has he moves up to me, "Can't handle me being a big girl by using my words?" He chuckles, "Sometimes I'm just sick of hearing you speak."
He pushes the tip of his cock against my lips and I part my lips and take him in, swirling my tongue and sucking as I bob my head, "Fuck." He groans, "This.. this is how I want to shut you up.."
I look up at him as I hallow out my cheeks. He looks down at me, "You're so pretty when you're not running your mouth." He places a hand on my head and pushes it down, "when you're choking on my cock instead."
He fucks my throat, moaning with each thrust, "Fuck." He pulls out, "Still hate me?" He smirks and I smirk back, rolling over and bringing my hips up, "Fuck you."
"Mm, looks like I'm about to do that to you." He gets behind me and roughly pushes his cock inside of me, causing me to scream out, "Fuck, Harry." He brings a hand down, harshly smacking my ass.
I whimper and wiggle my hips, "Please. Fucking move, do some-"
He pulls out and thrusts back in, repeating his action.
Hard and slow.
He slides a hand up my back and grabs a fist full of my hair, yanking my head back. I moan at the stinging pain from him pulling my hair and the pleasure of his cock ramming into me.
"You like that?" He groans leaning down. His teeth sink into my shoulder and I moan, "Fuck. Harry. Fuck." I let out a pleasured scream as his thrusts become faster.
"Shit, y/n." He groans leaning up, "Fuck."
"Oh god. P-please don't stop." I reach back and grab his wrist. He grabs my hand and pins it against my lower back, "You going to cum for me?"
I let out a loud moan into the bed and push my hips back to meet his. "Harry." I scream out as my body is taken over by my orgasm, "Fu-" I whine as he fucks me through my high.
His thrusts become sloppy and I feel him slip out and his cum landing on my back.
He slowly lays me down and goes to grabs his towel off the floor. He wipes my back off and toss it to the floor. He flops down next to me and I slowly turn my head to look at him, "This doesn't change anything. You're still an asshole."
He chuckles, "And you're still a slut for my cock."
"Get out." I laugh weakly. He chuckles and pulls the blankets up over us, "You might want to wear a dress that covers your shoulders tomorrow."
I groan, "Of course you'd leave marks. Idiot."
"I didn't hear you complain once."
I lay there and process what just happened and I know in my heart that it's bound to happen again because Harry was right, hate sex is the best sex.
——
Requests are accepted and credit is given - Send me a message!
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justice4canyonmoon · 2 years
Note
keepin harrys cock warm with your mouth while hes workin or watchin tv or somethin
wow it took me forever to write this (sorry)!!! it's just been harder for me to find motivation to write lately bc my mental health is all over the place!! it's a little on the shorter side, but here it is (hope you like it)!!!
warnings: smut!!! 18+ only!!!! cockwarming, soft dom! harry, subspace (a little)
wc: 965
It was another long day for Harry. He’d been at at his computer for almost 4 hours already, and it wasn’t even noon yet. To say he was bored was a vast understatement. And you were bored too.
Lately, it felt like all Harry was doing was working. The date night you had had last week was the first time you had spent quality time together in some time. He apologized for it frequently, saying that as soon as his next album was ready to be put out, he was all yours.
But he had been working far too hard lately, and you were tired of waiting. 
You entered his office, not even knocking because you knew that he’d be too engrossed in his work to hear you anyway. You leaned over his chair and rested your head on his shoulder, causing him to turn toward you.
“Oh, hi lovie,” he kissed you on the cheek, “didn’ hear yeh come in.”
“Figured you wouldn’t. Always too into your work,” you teased, kissing him on the cheek as well.
“Need somethin from me, love?”
“I need you, H,” you explained, pouting, “miss you.”
His eyes softened, “Miss yeh too, my love. ‘M sorry ‘m workin s’ much lately.”
“Is there anything I can do to spend time with you while you work?” you asked.
“Sit on my lap while I work?”
You didn’t even answer his question, climbing on to him and clinging on. He chuckled, resting one of his hands on the small of your back while the other one went back to scrolling on his computer. His lips pressed to the top of your head while you cuddled into his chest.
For a while, this was enough to placate you. But soon, you got a little restless. Being seated on top of his strong thighs for so long was enough to make you squirm a little. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander, imagining yourself bouncing on Harry’s cock on the chair, finally abandoning his work to fuck you. 
Harry noticed your antsiness and questioned, “Everything okay, lovie?”
“Yeah,” you said back unconvincingly. 
He gently moved your head back from where it was buried in his shoulder and looked you in the eyes. 
“I can tell y’ lyin, lovie. Tell me what’s goin on.”
“Horny,” you whispered into his ear, grinding down on his thigh with a bit more purpose.
He chuckled darkly, “Achin between y’ pretty thighs f’ me?”
When you nodded, he added, “Well, ‘ve got t’ at least finish this project before I can sneak away with yeh.”
Your face fell and Harry brushed his thumb over your bottom lip.
“Don’t pout, lovie. Gonna give yeh a little somethin t’ do in the meantime. Want yeh t’ get on y’ knees and hold m’ cock in y’ mouth. That sound okay?”
You nodded, already climbing off of his lap and settling yourself onto the carpet.
He chuckled again, tilting your chin to look up at him, “Eager?”
“A little,” you said back, already dragging his sweatpants and his briefs down his thick thighs in one smooth motion.
You leaned in, smudging kisses to the tip and up the sides of his cock.
“Tease,” he grumbled, “get me in y’ mouth, lovie.”
“You’re the tease since you haven’t given me anything in over a week,” you grumbled back.
“Told yeh I’d have m’ way with yeh once ‘m done. Now stop bein a little brat and get me in y’ mouth,” he said sternly.
You felt your panties dampen at the tone of his voice. You always loved when he got demanding. Deciding not to waste any more time, you took the tip of his cock in your mouth, whining softly at your first taste of him in a while. Harry groaned softly at the vibrations of your moan against his cock.
“Take a little more, lovie. Know yeh can,” he said with a little smirk.
You took him further into your mouth, loving the heft of it on your tongue. You knew you were only supposed to keep him warm, but you couldn’t help yourself and sucked gently on his cock.
But Harry didn’t sound too happy about that, “I said to just hold it, pet. If yeh can’t listen t’ me, gonna have to put m’ cock away and yeh won’t get anythin else.”
You shook your head as best you could.
“No? Wanna keep it in y’ mouth?”
You nodded.
“Then be good f’ me and only suck when I tell yeh to.”
You nodded again, adjusting your position slightly and looking up to him for approval.
He smiled down at you, one of his ringed hands gently brushing your cheek, “Look so perfect f’ me, love. Stay just like that.”
Harry returned his attention to the computer screen, typing up an email to Harry Lambert about outfits for the upcoming tour. But soon, the sound of his fingers tapping on the keys faded away completely as you sunk into a new headspace. All you could focus on was the feeling of holding him in your mouth and how without even speaking, he was keeping you firmly in his metaphorical grasp.
His fingers brushing against your cheek once again made you whimper softly. You looked up at him with glassy eyes to find him looking down at you, slightly concerned.
“Yeh doin okay, lovie? Just asked yeh a question.”
You pulled off of him temporarily to respond, “Didn’t hear you, sorry. Just floaty.”
He nodded, “Just checkin in, making sure y’ still doing alright.”
“‘M fine,” you said quietly, immediately taking him back into your mouth.
Harry chuckled, “Good, because we’re probably going t’ be here f’ a while.”
And you were perfectly fine with that.
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