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#harry styles x fem!oc
daaydreamy · 11 months
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strange sounds
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summary: it’s hard being with a famous rockstar. 
warnings: coarse language, smut, orgy, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), anal sex, overstimulation
pairings: harry styles x fem!reader x m & f oc’s
•••
“Is it- are they-?”
“Yeah?” Y/N laughed softly into Harry’s mouth, tugging off her jacket as she continued to kiss him. But, amidst their kissing, Y/N’s bandmates suddenly came in, so nonchalant, catching Harry off guard and making him flush even more. “Is that alright with you? You talked about it last night and I just… I don’t know, wanted to surprise you?” She chuckled and pulled back fully and Harry’s lips parted, unsure of what to say, his eyes flickering away from Y/N and over to her bandmates, waiting for his reply. 
“I…” His voice was as light as a feather, the filthiest of thoughts already entering his mind, causing his entire body to get even more excited, like electricity was striking through his veins. “Yes.” He nodded, adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped dryly, already feeling himself start to get insanely hot underneath his clothes that desperately needed to come off. 
Y/N smiled brightly and dropped her jacket onto the floor, hands reaching up to unzip Harry’s pants, an indescribable feeling rushing through his body when he felt another pair of lips on the back of his neck, new hands touching at his torso, pushing his shirt up and urging him to take it off. He pulled away from the kiss for a second and let them pull his shirt off, letting out a soft, filthy moan into Y/N’s mouth seconds after from the warm hands grasping at his hot skin. 
“How long have you been thinking about this, huh?” Y/N murmured against Harry’s lips and Harry could feel somebody smile against his neck, a soft whimper slipping past his lips when they suddenly nipped at his neck. “Multiple people ruining you, using you. You know, they were so surprised when I asked them about this, since they had no idea how fucking downright filthy you can get, isn’t that right?”
Harry’s face twisted up a little from pleasure and he nodded once more, agreeing breathlessly, and letting Y/N take more air out of his lungs when she gripped his hair and let her taste him again. 
Harry heard somebody mumble “Take these off.” and referring to his pants, or maybe they said it out loud, and it just sounded muffled because of how loud he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Nevertheless, he felt somebody start pushing his pants down his thighs and he had never felt so exposed to so many eyes like that before, since everybody was still fully dressed and he was nearly naked at that point. 
He absolutely loved it, though. He loved the attention, the touch, the roughness, the feeling of them looking at him, wanting him as much as he wanted them. He felt so hot and felt like he was melting like lava in their hands, goosebumps having risen all over his body from all the fingers running over his skin. 
Soon enough, he felt himself fall down onto a plush bed, curls already messed up and slightly frizzy, feeling like he was on display when everybody was just looking at him for a second. 
•••
“God, fuck.”
Violet gripped the headboard of the bed, lightly rocking herself against Harry’s tongue, eyes closed with one of her hands buried in his hair, luscious ‘ohhh’s’ slipping past her soft lips. Sebastian, who was fucking Harry, leaned in to kiss Violet’s shoulder gently, sinking his teeth into her skin to muffle a groan. Harry felt so hot and tight around him it felt like his head was spinning from how crazy he was getting from the feeling, his hands easily holding Harry’s thighs apart no matter how much he tried to squeeze them together. 
Violet whimpered softly when Angelica suddenly pressed her lips against hers, feeling her hand against the back of her neck, preventing her from pulling away. She was already breathless before and now it felt like Angelica was just taking all the air she had left in her lungs from the deep kiss they were sharing, moaning softly into her mouth as she tasted her. Violet used her other hand to press two fingers against Angelica’s cunt since she wasn’t looking, causing her to gasp into her mouth and rock against her fingers slightly, feeling herself throb even more from the feeling. 
Violet couldn’t help but smile into the kiss a little and used her thumb to rub Angelica’s clit in slow circles as she pressed a finger into her weepy hole slowly, thrusting in and out, before eventually adding another. She simultaneously rode Harry’s face while fucking Angelica, encouraging her to come and praising her the entire time, mumbling against her lips. Violet’s other hand had tightened significantly in Harry’s hair and immediately loosened it, until Harry ran his tongue over her clit repeatedly, then she gripped it tightly once more, gasping against Angelica’s lips. 
“Oh, f-fuck, I’m gonna come.” She stuttered out and pulled away from Angelica for a second, head tipping back as she continued to rock herself against Harry’s tongue again, driving herself to an orgasm, gasping and moaning until she made a mess on his face, while Angelica’s forehead was pressed against her shoulder as she shuddered from sheer pleasure. 
Harry was out of breath when Violet got off of him when she was too sensitive, lips and chin shiny with spit and arousal. His chest was heaving and it felt like Sebastian was knocking the air out of his lungs even more with every thrust he was giving him, trying to fuck an orgasm out of him. He whined from the roughness and from the feeling of his blunt nails digging into his thighs, pushing his head back against the pillow beneath it, desperately trying to find something to grasp. 
Harry was about to say something until Sebastian suddenly leaned down, groaning into Harry’s mouth as he kissed him, tasting him and Violet’s arousal. He was getting close, so he brought a hand up and started giving Harry quick strokes, causing him to whine into Sebastian’s mouth and try to close his legs again, but failing. He pulled away for a second and as soon as he saw Harry’s eyes roll to the back of his head, he groaned, burying his face in Harry’s sweaty neck, hips stuttering slightly and thrusts slowing down as he moaned against Harry’s skin. 
Harry whimpered quietly when Sebastian pulled out soon after, and he watched as he started pulling off the condom and start moving to the other side of the bed, but that was it, because Y/N was suddenly there again, kissing him.
“You’re a mess.” Y/N chuckled softly, nose brushing against Harry’s as she gave him a small break from everything and Harry felt himself melt from her touch when he felt the tips of her fingers running down his chest, down to his stomach, but quickly tensed and whined when she wrapped her hand around his sensitive cock, giving him slow, firm strokes. He choked on a moan and squeezed his thighs together tightly, bringing a hand down to grasp her wrist, making her chuckle and stop altogether. 
Harry sighed softly and closed his eyes, grip tightening on Y/N’s wrist when he felt somebody filling him up once more, mouth opening in a silent moan, back arching upwards from the feeling. 
“God, you’re so pretty, Harry.”
James whispered in Harry’s ear and groaned softly afterwards, letting his forehead fall down onto Harry’s shoulder. Harry felt heat rise to his cheeks from the compliment, placing a hand on James’ back and digging his nails into the skin there a little when he started moving, gasping quietly. 
When Harry blinked his eyes open he could see Angelica saying something into James’ ear, but unable to hear it, brows furrowing when James suddenly got back up, smiling and chuckling lightly, before Angelica kissed him. James started thrusting a little harder and deeper after that and Harry scrambled to grasp the sheets, letting out a loud whine when he felt Angelica suddenly start stroking him, pressing his thighs together, but doing that did absolutely nothing to help with the sensitivity, and James only held his knees together, fucking into him with more eagerness, moaning softly into Angelica’s mouth. 
Harry was getting close embarrassingly fast and when he suddenly felt a wetness run across one of his nipples, it felt like he was on the brink of an orgasm already. He glanced down for a second and realized it was Y/N, before letting his head fall back down onto a pillow, letting out a wet gasp when she started toying with his other nipple with her fingers. 
“I’m gonna come.” Harry gasped out, eyes squeezing shut tightly and growing quiet when his second orgasm washed over him, only letting out small and weak whimpers as Angelica stroked him through it, hearing her chuckles over the loud thumping of his heartbeat in his ears as she watched. 
Harry could only let out soft little noises as James continued to fuck into him over and over, only letting out a gasp when James stilled at some point, groaning as his stomach clenched and caved in a little from orgasmic pleasure. He pulled out slowly after a little while, causing Harry’s face to scrunch up in a wince a little, before he let his legs stretch out, melting into the bed, all fucked out.
a/n: here’s part one of this aka what i based this off of! this is rockstar!y/n and her bandmates having fun with (not so) shy!harry !!! hope it was okay and feedback is always appreciated 🫶 thank you for reading love u! 🫂
🏷: @crow-i-guess, @planetflos, @harrycanyonmoonn, @bxtchboy69, @sweet-as-lilacs, @lyricalniall, @venusincleo (couldn’t tag you!), @bxbun111, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @emispleased, @goldenhrry, @cinnamongirlrry, @manifestrry, @sadqn1, @sad1esgf, @taylorsreputationsversion, @violetsandfluff, @purplefishingline, @a-strange-familiar, @moonlightbea-33 (couldn’t tag you!), @famedrs-blog, @coochiesteak, @blahblahblah-888 (couldn’t tag you!), @milesisntdonewritingyet, @harrysgoth, @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite (couldn’t tag you!), @cinnamonlola, @youcan-nolonger-run, @velvetrylie, @vamprry
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eveningepiphany · 11 months
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insatiable | H.S series, part I
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eveningepiphany’s 1k special <3
summary: harry is a prince, natalia is a spy for his court. both of them can’t stand one another, but natalia having to take any direct information she learns about the attempt on his life directly to him seems to put the pair in an interesting dynamic.
SERIES warnings: darker topics, murder, death, cults, alcohol, smut, violence, royal au! harry, fem!oc, fantasy and swearing.
a/n: this is something I’ve wanted to write for a long time now. I love reading fantasy, and I think it would be fun to kind of test the waters in writing a proper series myself.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
A part of me wishes it was nothing like this.
That I didn’t live in a world where everyone was out to deceive you.
But that’s exactly what you get in Carthion. I’d say it’s all you ever get, but maybe that’s just my outlook on it.
Especially when you consider I’m no better than the rest of them.
You see, when you grow up with parents who did the worst things just to get by, you’re conditioned to it. The expectation that everyone is out to get you.
And of course, the things they did weren’t just steal some bread and fruit from the night market to get a feed, or maybe pickpocket a passerby or two bad. The kind of stuff that would have you killed if it was unearthed.
But how I grew up is realistically how I got here.
I’ve been a spy— which is really just a justified way of saying I’m a deceitful murderer— “professionally” for only three years now.
But I’d been really doing it since I was 13. Sounds young, I know. It was young.
The thing was, I was small, smaller than my dad. I could squeeze into little places, move faster, quieter.
And who would suspect a 13 year old to be the one who’d shot a gang leader in an alleyway.
Not a soul apparently.
My father accompanied me on these little “missions” for the first, maybe, forty times? Until little by little he stopped.
He’d just tell me quietly what I needed to do in the dark of our small kitchen. And I’d be off.
Previously, my mother did a similar business. But she broke her leg on an outing when I was around 9. It left her much less physically able then she used to be, leaving her to stay home with me and my elder brother, Theodore. Making small knit items and pottery to sell at the markets— while dad was out.
I’d often catch myself falling into a daydream of where I’d be if I didn’t have the upbringing that I did. If I’d be a married woman yet, or maybe a guard for one of the royal courts if I had the same amount of drive.
But all of that is rather a waste of time, i reason with myself often. I’m busy enough as it is. And it’s about to get a whole lot more hectic.
I’m not conditioned to walk in heeled shoes. Nor am I proper enough to be in the dress that’s currently hugging my frame.
But when business with Royals arises, it’s what I can only assume is a must.
The guard, who bought me in is a few steps infront of me— awful move if I was an intruder— seems to know exactly where he’s taking me.
The corridors are lined with the families crest, large cream pillars with golden accents.
A single brick from this place is probably worth more than my life.
We’d been twisting and turning through the corridors until suddenly I’m greeted with large double doors, ones that would tower above any regularly sized one..
Another 2 burly men are positioned outside of them, gesturing a quick nod to whoever led me here.
A curt knock and a few beats of silence pass. I feel a little sick, I can’t lie.
A posh feminine voice sounds on the other side of the doors, undoubtedly Queen Annabelle herself.
“Come in!”
The doors get swung open, and I’m surprised to see that at first glance, this room is only a business or lounge room. It’s large enough to be a dining hall.
My gaze snaps back over to her as she begins to greet me, something I probably should’ve done first instead of marvelling at the room were standing in.
“Natalia, dear, hello.” My eyes switch between her and her unexpected guest, who— if this room weren’t so large— is tall enough he would’ve been the first thing I seen upon entering.
I’m positive it’s her son. The Prince.
Im unsure what exactly to say even though I practiced this in my head a million times.
I drop into a quick curtesy, “Hello, Your highness.”
I falter momentarily, hesitating to greet the Prince as well.
A extend my greeting to him, after a quiet intake of breath, “and to you too, Prince Harry.”
He has a scowl on his face, hardly giving me a me nod of his head.
I’ve only ever worked with people of a medium prestige. And only ever to silently cover up their dirty work. But I’m hardly surprised to see his distaste towards me.
If I am a minor disgust to the higher class, to the royals like Prince Harry, I must be the equivalent of skum on freshly polished shoes.
“Please, come sit with us. We have much to discuss.” She strides across the room, flowing ivory dress complimenting the green rug that takes up a large chunk of the floor.
She takes to a chair at the head of the table, it’s like a mock-throne, green fabric and deep wooden accents around its frame and arms.
The Prince reluctantly seats in the chair first to her right.
Despite the fact I’ve been allowed in this room, I feel terribly out of place.
I carefully take the chair thats two down from the queen, folding my hands neatly atop the rich wooden table which has a map in the centre of it.
I almost let out a sigh of gratefulness as Queen Annabelle begins talking, and isn’t expecting me to begin.
“Alright. You know the parameters in which you are here in, yes?” She raises her sharp brows.
“I do, for the most part. From the letters I’d received. I’m aware of what business you want me for.”
The Prince scoffs at the word business, and the Queen shoots him a glare.
“There are obviously some details left out. We need to smooth those out, before you can make your pledges.”
I nod, but sense that she’s not done talking.
“You acknowledge that this is going ahead yes? All that is left to do is get it in motion.”
“I do. I have a few questions regarding this job, but they can be covered at a later time if you’d like.” I try to keep my tone steady, formal.
I’m satisfied in her reaction to my words. She wasn’t expecting me to be so put together.
I had worked hard when I was younger to achieve this. My intellect is a strong point— and it makes me appear less rough around the edges.
It’s also that of a weapon, one you can carry everywhere with you, undetected. And it’s just as dangerous as the blade of a dagger.
“Of course. As of now, I’d like to discuss the raw details.”
She gestures towards her son, “My son, here, is a key part of this job. I believe in your letters you were ran down on an attempted assassination within our family. Since it’s now certain you’ll be taking the job, and you’ll be working closely with the both of us, I figure you should know he was the target.”
He’s frowning still as a lock eyes with him. And I connected those dots the second I realised he was in the room.
I have never met him. But from the great vine I’d heard mixed opinions on his person.
“Aside from myself and our head of counsel, he will be whom you take any learned information to.”
She lets out a sigh, “I would like him to be excluded from this process, however, it was made clear it wouldn’t go ahead without his involvement.”
I ponder a moment on how he is allowed a choice in the matter, seeing she’s the Queen and all.
She looks to me for agreement, “Understood.”
“Perfect. Im aware we have little information on who has committed this crime. That is why you’re here. I fear that they will come back and finish what they started.” I steal a glance at the prince again, who looks relatively unbothered considering we’re discussing the details of his near death experience, “I expect you to prevent this from happening.”
High expectations come with exhausting hours of work. But I nod anyways.
“My head of counsel, Tyrone will also need to receive a pledge from you and then he will run you down on the smaller details I have no business in. But other than that, your work will begin after our pledges.”
A lot of damn pledges, too.
This was the worst part of working with people of such a title, the expectance of you to lay yourself down for them, to swear your life and loyalty to them. A pledge knows no time, and can only be withdrawn by the one it’s given too. So the more pledges, the more you’re shackled to. To outright break a pledge would send you straight to exile— so it’s rare to hear of it. It’s like a fucking cult out there, in the barren of the north where the exiles call home.
She prattles on over some more details, that I take as much mental note on as possible, before standing from her chair, “Harry, will you please leave the room while she makes her pledge to me.”
I thank the stars for the this shred of dignity shes allowing me, but i catch the shock on Prince Harry’s face at his removal.
“But—“ he begins and she silences him, “Out.”
He sighs outwardly, sending another glower my way as he walks out the door.
I awkwardly rise from my chair, nerves bubbling through me, trying to prepare myself on what to say.
Theres no script, its all dependent on the situation, so you must say the right things and leave no room for misconception in your words. Mistake and gaps can easily be used against you.
It’s dodgy absolutely, but a risk that must be taken for this business.
“Natalia, is this your first time making a pledge?” She asks from where she stands a few feet away from me.
“No.” It was my third, but she doesn’t need to know that.
It’s not many, especially since in what I do, some people rack them up like it’s a competition.
“Have you been let go of all your previous pledges?”
“Yes.” I nod, which was almost true, all but one.
A risky game I’m playing, lying already, but no risk no reward I suppose is what they say.
Answering no raises to many questions on her end that I hardly feel mentally prepared to answer.
I take initiative to kneel at her feet, ready for her go ahead.
“Very well.”
“Queen Annabelle the fifth, I kneel below you as I vow to uphold my loyalty to you, for as long as it may be needed. I am aware that your life must come before mine at all times, and that I’m never to withhold information that could be of detriment to you or your family.”
I draw in a breath, “All information that I learn in my time working under you will be taken to those of your request, and nothing will be kept to myself that could endanger anybody in your circle. Outside of those im working with, all that I find out is kept to myself. Gossip is for the lowly courts, and I do not wish to start it.”
I pray that ive covered the basis, and begin to close off the pledge, “My name is Natalia Atalanta Finley, and I pledge myself to you, Queen Annabelle the fifth.”
A shudder passes through me as my middle name breaches the tip of my tongue.
This is how the pledges are set in stone. Your second name is to be kept close to your heart; it can be easily used against you. Hence why business using them is unfavourable.
I had held her eye contact, and watched as she nodded. Her face was netrual, not showing whether she was pleased or not.
“Thank you. I will send Harry in for you now.” She sounded calm. Of course she was. Considering she wasn’t the one now down a point.
I only can nod.
Carefully standing, despite the fact I’m going to be kneeling again in a few moments, I brush my hands down the waist of my satin dress.
She heads out the doors, I strain to hear a few muffled whispers that are presumably exchanged between her and her son. Then the door is opening again.
I fight the urge to look away. I am not about to appear shy, or like I am now certainly below them. He strides in, and I finally get a good look at him in the full.
He’s in a black kind of overcoat, and a smooth white blouse-like shirt. The tattoos on his collarbones, which im not sure what they are yet, visible through the material.
I make note of his black trousers and my eyes make their way back to the hair on his head. Its mid length, unruly and curly is the best way to describe it.
He looks smug, yet somehow still inconvenienced by my presence, “kneel, wont you?”
These are the first words he’s said to me directly, and I already want to jam my elbow into his stomach. Terrific.
I take a few steps towards him, and slowly sink back down onto my knees, feet tucked under myself as I hold eye contact with him.
“Your highness,” I begin, but theres an unmistakable edge to my voice.
“Sound like you mean it at least.” He hums.
With a passive aggressive clear of my throat I start again, “Your highness,”
“This y’first time making a pledge?” He quirks a brow almost assuming.
“No.” You frown.
“No need to get your back up.” He laughs briefly, but it’s laced with an audacious tone, one lacking in kindness.
“Continue on, then.”
His gaze is back to burning into me as I pretty much recite what I said to his mother only minutes ago, sticking to the same promises as to not get any misconstrusions on their behalf.
The golden hour light is seeping through the cream coloured curtains that line the windows, it’s casting a glow on his sculpted face. I begin to close off my pledge to him, but he interrupts.
“Remind me again who is in charge of you?” He knows there’s hardly any need for this, considering im on my knees basically promising him my obedience, but he’s doing it to just get a rise out of me.
Which all though he doesn’t get it verbally, he can see the disdain on my face.
“You, Prince Harry.” I say, carefully.
“And you will not do anything without my go ahead first, correct?”
“Within reason, yes.” My job is too impulsive to say yes to that and it not backfire on me.
“Within reason? Elaborate, will you.”
“I must make impulsive decisions. I cannot promise you will always be debriefed on them when its an in-the-moment choice, or if you are possibly a few hundred miles away.”
His gaze narrows, “Within reason it shall be then.”
I close it off, earning a small raise of his eyebrows as he hears my full name.
“Good girl. You may rise.” He says it with a smirk, and with an air of power of me, which of course he now feels he has after my pledge.
“Do not call me that.” I state, pulling at any shred of dignity I have left as I stand up.
“What else would you prefer then?” It’s asked, however it’s clear to me he doesn’t care.
“My name.” I scoff.
“Alright then, Natalia.” He rolls his eyes.
He stares at me a moment, looking ready to leave,“I will see you, unfortunately, tomorrow then.”
I shoot him an unkind look, but keep my lips sealed.
“Anything else to say, sugar?” He teases, a cruel smirk on his face.
“Natalia.” I correct, “No, there is not.”
I decide to be the one to exit the room, uncaring if that is rude. I’ve already sworn him my life, and despite him acting like I’m of no use to him, I know I am— more then he’s leading on anyway.
I open the doors myself, and the guards are quick to check on the prince.
“Are you ok, Sir?” One of them tentatively asked, like as if I’ve hurt him.
“Just fine.” He brushes them off, eyes trailing me as I walk down the hallway despite no sense of where I’m going.
One of the guards hurries behind me,
“Ma’am, where are you going?”
He reaches my side and I glance to him, “Take me to the head of counsel, please.”
I figure I get the last pledge out of the way, and any other debriefing so I can just get out of here for tonight. Worry about it all later, in the earlier hours of tomorrow morning when I have to wake up.
The guard nods, and takes the lead while I try to memorise the twists and turns were making around the palace.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Tyrone is a fucking asshole.
If I had thought Prince Harry was rude or demeaning, I was in for a shock.
He hardly greeted me as I’d came into what I can only assume is his office. It was dark and unwelcoming, the wood was stained to the colour of black coffee, and nothing about it was homely.
He’d had me making this pledge for what felt like an hour. Running over detail upon detail.
Harshly demanding for more information, more promising.
By the time I’d closed it off— which at the rate we were going I thought was never going to happen— he made me stay for another hour going over what he wanted me to do, so I could start first thing tomorrow morning.
He basically gave me the caseload and then kicked me out.
I was mentally muddled as I left his office, and the halls were now completely dark aside from the warm casting of light from the candles, which sat in candelabras coming out of the walls.
I just wanted to go back to Mabel’s. Get this dress off and back into the confines of her cupboard and sleep.
However was almost caught off guard as someone was at the end of the hallway.
“Natalia.” I heard the deep voice regard me, walking up closer to me.
It surprised me in all honestly, I hadn’t seen them when I first walked out, “Yes?”
“I’m here to take you to your room.”
I was immediately confused.
“My room?”
“Yes. There’s a room made up for you in the western-wing of the palace.”
“I didn’t request a room.” I frown, and no one had told me I’d be staying here.
“All I know is Her Majesty had a room made up for you to stay in while you’re here. Allow me to lead you there.”
I nodded cautiously, but I knew what this was, it was to keep me under watch and control. It seems like a lovely customary gift in exchange for my work, but realistically it’s to stop me from interacting with anyone outside of the palace when I don’t need to.
I contemplate refusing to go, but figured that would just add unnecessary suspicion on my behalf.
I reluctantly followed the bulky man halfway across the palace, and everything started looking the same in the dark until we stopped outside a room. And i nodded a ‘thank you’ as I went through the again, abnormally tall doors.
The room itself was bigger than any whole house I’d ever lived in.
There was a large bed placed in the centre of it, perfectly made of course. And I noticed a closet on my left that took up majority of where the wall would’ve been.
There were a multitude of things hanging in there, ranging from gowns to things only someone like me would wear around here, like cargo pants and plain long sleeves.
The bedside antique lamps were on, casting an also warm glow to the space. The light to the bathroom was also turned on. And when I walked in there, the bath was run, with a set of silk pajamas folded on the large vanity.
It was too much. Wayyy too much for me.
Bribery at its finest.
Poor girl having to do the worst of the worst kind of business because it’s all she knows, suddenly spoiled with the kind of riches the royals had to offer.
I know just how far these kinds of people will go to earn your trust.
However, i still cave when it comes to the bath. I manage— with a slight struggle— to unzip the back of my dress and get fully undressed and into the bath.
It was perfectly warm, small petals floating atop the water.
I keep in the forefront of my mind just how well materialistic bribery like this work because god, it is nice. That’s the whole point.
I don’t know how long i stay in there, trying to soak off the grievances of the day.
But when I finally get out and slip the silky pyjamas on I’m too warm.
I pad out of the bathroom, and find myself at the balcony door.
The cooler air hits me as i step outside. I examine the surroundings. Part out of habit and other out of curiosity.
The ground is not that far away, a survivable jump at least. And if the railing would hold me up I definitely would be able to scale up onto the roof.
I’m mid-inspection when I hear another door open nearby, and my head whips to find the source of the noise.
I drop into a crouch keeping my eyes searching through the gaps in the wooden railing. My eyes fall on a room just across the small courtyard from me.
I spot the tall figure leaning against their own balcony and I realise with a sink of my heart that it was the Prince.
Why his quarters were so close to mine I could only guess. To keep tabs on me?
I stay deathly still as I watch his figure, it’s facing the direction of me, and from his angle he could probably only see the warm lamps and the light streaming out of the bathroom door.
A shake of his head, a spin of his heel and he’s returned into the confines of his own quarters.
I take a breath and am careful to keep my self low as I slip back into my room. Standing to my full height once inside and away from the window.
It is now that I need to fully accept he is going to be a terror to deal with.
I flick the bathroom and bedside lights off, and slide under the covers of the bed.
Head plagued with thoughts, I can’t help but wonder how the fuck I’ve gotten myself into this.
And how exactly it’s all going to pan out.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
thank you again for reading this. your support means the world to me. stay tuned for future parts, and feel free to reply or send me an ask saying you want to be added to my taglist if you do, since I’ve had a few people ask to be on them!
asks & requests, here.
taglist:
@straightontilmornin @hs-tpwkrry
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watermelonsugacry · 2 months
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harry's 30th birthday blurb with 1d!yn?! 👀
Birthday Surprises
SUMMARY: Harry celebrates his 19th and 30th birthday with the person he loves.
GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn, married!ynrry
Since 2010 masterlist
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Not to sound ungrateful, but Harry thinks that this was one of the worst birthday celebrations that he's ever had.
Tonight, he just wanted to spend his last year being a teenager having fun with friends—not be completely embarrassed and uncomfortable being strip teased and danced on by strippers. 
Not to mention that afterwards, One Direction’s management team had booked him to do a relationship stunt for the night. So as he walked out of the club and into his security team’s Range Rover, a tall, blonde model was by his side. As bad as it sounded, he couldn’t remember the girl’s name for the life of him. 
Nothing was going to happen with her anyways. All they had to do was a couple of paparazzi pictures of them together before they’re driven off into the night. The driver would discreetly drop her off at her own hotel before escorting Harry back to his. 
So there's not an ounce of uncertainty that when Harry comes out of the elevator, he's absolutely tired and wants nothing more than to be left alone.
He waves his card key in front of the lock and once he hears the little "beep" sound, he pushes the heavy door open.
His irritation and tiredness might have just peaked over its breaking point when he begins to hear rustling from inside. He’s already extremely worn out that he doesn’t even want to put in the effort into putting on a nice face to whoever’s inside his hotel room. But the smile that appears on his face is effortless when he sees YN flicking the wheel of the lighter over some birthday candles sticking out of a chocolate cake.
“Fucking fuck—oh, surprise!” She hops, extending her arms out beside her in what she hopes to look like a grand gesture.
“What’s going on?”
“We’re celebrating your birthday.” 
Anyone a mile away can tell how uncomfortable he was during the whole stripper fiasco. It sucked to have to stand off to the side, a faux smile on her face to see her bandmate in that type of situation. As much as she wanted to stay with him for the other “fun” festivities the night had to offer, she knew that she couldn’t let his birthday end the way it was heading. So she took the chance to leave the club a bit early and hoped that he would be up for one more celebratory, late night hang out.  
“But, but it’s already past midnight,” He blinks, still a little dumbfounded at the kind surprise before him.
"Oh come on, we only have—err—three, ah! Two more minutes until your birthday is officially over." YN pulls Harry over to the small dining table and sits him down in front of his freshly lit cake. It's then that he notices the shaky lettering on the cake that reads, “Happy Birthday Harry!” Letting him know that she went more out of her way for him than she initially let on. 
She comically clears her throat before beautifully yet quickly singing the infamous Happy Birthday song. The song isn't being yelled at to him by a big group of people, and the room isn't jam-packed with people he doesn't know. When he leans over to blow out his candles, he isn't fearful of hands going to the back of his head to stuff his face into the cake.
He doesn’t think twice about wrapping her up in his arms. He squeezes the tops of her shoulders tightly and she nestles into his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, “Thank you.”
The sentiment doesn't, can't go by unnoticed, but it doesn't seem totally out of the norm. This is Harry. A sweet and affectionate person whose love language is undoubtedly physical touch. If anything, it'd be YN feeling the one out of place in this situation. And maybe it was a change of heart towards her anti-touchy feelings or maybe it was because of his birthday. Either way, he's grateful for the way she's letting him hold her. If it were anyone else, she definitely wouldn't wrap her arms around his torso, humming at the warmth he brings.
"Well the night doesn’t have end here,” YN blinks up at him. As if they both realize their close proximity, they slowly pull away to give each other some space. “If you're still up for it and not too tuckered out, I rented that one stupid rom com you like. The one with the guy standing outside with the signs."
"Love Actually? I thought you didn't like that movie."
"Well to be fair, I actually have never seen it. But it’s your birthday and this is sort of part of my gift to you. You know, if you even wanna see it. If not, I can just fuck off and you can sleep because I know you probably had a pretty eventful day—”
She’s rambling. YN’s rambling—a quality she was never prone to particularly show, but it’s cute. He thinks she’s cute. 
“YN,” He chuckles, effectively cutting her off. “I’m down to watch it.”
“Really? Okay, cool. Because I already have the film on queue in the room so that would have been real fooking embarrassing.” Annnd she’s back.
He watches with curious eyes as she carefully slides the heavy cake plate onto her hands. 
She throws a nod towards the kitchenette, “Mind grabbing the forks.”
As much as Harry tries to resist it, he can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. He quickly grabs the two utensils before following behind her to the open bedroom. YN quite literally steps onto the foot of the bed before carefully sitting down, balancing the cake in her hands.
He sits down next to her, handing her the fork just as she begins the movie. They both dig their forks into the middle of the cake, taking out a chunk.
“Happy birthday, Harry,” She says, clicking the ends of their forks together. She happily hums at the delicious dessert but it quickly turns into a groan at the opening aong of the movie. “Ah not this stupid song again. I felt like this was all i was hearing just the other month.”
He’d be lying if he said he was watching more of the movie than her. His cheeks hurt from chuckling at her witty commentary and he tries not to make a big deal about the way she actually started to get into the film. So as he eats cake and spends the rest of the night with his best friend, he thinks that this might be the best birthday he’s had in a long time.
• 11 years later ●
YN stumbles through the front door as Harry cradles her in his arms, his mouth feverishly pressed to hers. They smile through their kisses, and he hums as she runs her finger through his growing curls. Harry kicks the door of their shared home behind him and blindly tosses the keys haphazardly in the general direction of the bowl by the door.
“Okay, okay,” YN pushes against his shoulders, finally getting a breath in, the pair still walking further into their home without separating. “So I know you said you didn't want any more presents—”
“Baby,” the grown man playfully whines. “You've already given me everything.” In all sincerity, she really has in his eyes. He’s been in love with the woman before him since they were sixteen. He wanted to be with her since their time in the band, through the making of their solo albums and everything in between. Even though it’s been a little over a year now, it still brings an explainable peace and warmth to his heart that she’s now his wife; not his friend with benefits, secret lovers, or merely a couple, but married.
And today couldn't have gone better. YN had the whole day planned. They started the day with lazy morning sex that turned into breakfast in bed. They spent the afternoon down by a secluded beach, having an impromptu dip in the water just before eating the lunch she packed for them. Then, after a plane ride to their private villa in Italy, they've just got back from having a beautiful dinner at his favorite restaurant.
“There's nothing more I could possibly want. Ooo, unless you're hiding some sexy lingerie under this fine ass dress you got here.” He says into her the crook of her neck, already sponging kisses onto her skin.
YN lets out a laugh, especially as his fingers begin to bunch up her silk dress. “No! Well, not no but—”
“So you do,” Harry says with excitement, the creases in his eyes appear when he hears her laughter. 
“Just hang on a sec. Your present is upstairs.”
“So I get to unwrap my last birthday present in the bedroom,” He teases her further. Her husband relishes in the way she lets out a girly squeal when he dips down and effortlessly lifts her over his shoulder to bring them into the master bedroom. 
 “Wait, wait,” She pushes as Harry plops them down on the bed, already trapping her underneath him. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a sec.”
Once she's managed to wiggle herself free (with great effort, no thanks to Harry) she scurries off to the connected bathroom.
He sits himself down on the bed, undoing the cuffs of his button up before rolling up his sleeves, preparing himself to see if wife in lacy undergarments that are only begging to be taken off by his teeth. Or torn off. Either one would work.
“H, close your eyes.” YN says from behind the door. “I mean it, no peeking.”
“Alright, alright.” He complies, already feeling a childlike sense of giddy anticipation. 
“Are they closed?”
“Yeah.”
“...are you sure?”
“Yes! For fuck sake’s woman. Being so mean on my birthday,” he laughs.
He feels the bed dip next to him before a kiss is pressed to his lips. Before he can bring his hands to her jaw to deepen the sweet kiss, he feels something being placed in his hands.
“Okay, open them,” she says against his lips.
He pulls back and sees a red box tied with a bow on top. 
“Lovie, you really shouldn't have.”
“Last one, I promise.”
Just to tease her, he brings the small box next to his head and shakes it slightly to hear the contents rattle inside.
YN makes a strategic move by placing one of her hands behind him so her thumb can twist at her rings, knowing that that's her dead giveaway for her nerves.
When he opens the lid, it's only then his face gets serious—lips slightly parted with soft eyes. On top of the pile of confetti lies a pregnancy test. The small, red plus line stares back at him clear as day.
“YN?” When he looks to his love, she begins to hold back her tears at the sight of his watery eyes and pink nose. “Is—wha—are you sure?”
“I took like five of them just to be sure,” she lets out a chuckle.
“We’re having a baby?” Words can't describe the warmth and happiness that fills her chest at his excitement. It's not like they haven't mentioned having kids before. It's been brought up a couple of times, most recently these past two years, but the timing was never right. They were always working; whether it be on making an album, working on themselves, and for the longest time, tour was their babies. But now that their 2 year world tours have ended and they've finally had time to go MIA for a couple of months, it didn't feel like a better time.
The couple wasn't setting up a schedule or anything technical to have a baby. Especially since going on their second honeymoon had been occupying their schedule right after touring was done, they decided that baby making would happen naturally. Whenever their baby decided to enter their lives, that would be the perfect time.
YN nods and before she can say the words to verbally confirm, he has her wrapped in his arms. Harry lifts her off the bed and gives her a little twirl.
As quickly as he picked her up, he's on his knees before her and puts a gentle hand on her tummy.
“Hi, bubba,” he says softly. YN beams at the sight, already wiping at the happy tears running down her cheeks. “I'm your daddy, and I love you so so much.”
After placing a gentle kiss on her stomach, he finally takes his wife's face in his hands and kisses her. It isn't rushed or filled with a sexual need. It's soft and filled with so much love and passion.
“We're gonna be parents, baby. You’re gonna make the best momma," he says sincerely, getting more emotional at the thought of holding a mini YN or a mini him in his arms in less than a year from now.
"And you're gonna make the best dad," she hums. He wraps his arms around the tops of her shoulders, pulling her close to him as she cuddles into him. He presses a kiss to her forehead and sniffs back his tears.
"I love you so much."
“i love you, baby. Happy birthday, Harry.”
.
.
taglist:
@ashtongivesmebutterflies @cacapeepee @thurhomish @armystay89
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harrystylescherry · 2 months
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A/N: wow, what amazing timing. let's pretend i did this on purpose. happy birthday, harry! fyi, this is vol. 2--you don't have to, but i rec reading vol. 1 first :)
*warning: spanking/paddling, mild pain, orgasm denial
what this is: pure smut tbh - vol. 2
word count: 5.5k
let me know what you think :)
MASTERLIST
It had been three agonizing days–three and a half if you were going to count this morning…and you were, because the ache between your legs and the need thrumming at your core was the only thing you could think about. 
Your boyfriend was punishing you in the worst way: orgasm denial. He’d work you and edge you until you were just on the brink of release, one…two…three times…then release you from the restraints, or pull you up from his lap, and go about his business. As if you weren’t a puddle of need, dripping between your thighs, angry and wanton and sorry. 
Because that was the whole point of this–for you to be sorry. To show you not to misbehave, or shirk direct orders. 
In your eyes, it was a minor infraction. He had left on a business trip for five days, and told you, explicitly, not to touch yourself, not for a teasing second, not to come. Then, he made sure to clarify that none of the sex toys at his place or yours were to be used either, knowing how much you loved a loophole. The two of you had been together for just over a year now, and you had taught him well to be specific and exact with his instructions. On more than one occasion, he’d tell you that you should’ve been a lawyer–a comment that was as much of a compliment as it was a chastising for being bratty and pushing his limits. 
The instruction was a punishment in itself, though he’d never admit to it. He wanted you to go with him, so between the stressful meetings and boring client calls, he could have moments of peace. He wanted to show you around a new city (though he’d only ever been there once before himself), discover hole in the wall eateries and dive bars together, fuck you in places not exactly meant for fucking, and, of course, have you on his arm for all the client dinners and drink-night-schmoozing he was expected to do. Unfortunately for him, you were only three months into your new job as an assistant editor/junior staff writer for The Wire, an indie music magazine based in London that mostly focused on independent artists and underground scenes. Were you cool enough for the job? Probably not, but you were open to anything and everything–your 134 very specific spotify playlists proof that you didn’t discriminate. 
The job was a lot of work, and you were busting your ass to prove to the close-knit team that ran it that you were worth keeping around. Your ninety-days of entry-probation had just ended. Taking time off wasn’t a good look (not that you had even racked up enough hours to take off an entire work week), and while working from home wasn’t off the table, you didn’t want it to seem like you didn’t want to be there. On the ground, toiling away at your tiny desk with the other two assistants and three interns. It was fun. You loved Harry, but your priorities right now were what they were. He understood it, though that didn’t mean he had to like it. And clearly, he didn’t, as evidenced by his very unfair and petty instruction. 
You had done well the first three days, despite the teasing texts and naughty photos meant to bait you–which is why you’d been so strong. He wasn’t going to trick you into breaking a rule. 
Day four was what broke you. You hadn’t heard from him all day (which only made you want the teasing and photos now that they were being withheld), you had stupidly started an erotic romance novel that was essentially 320 pages of pure (ungodly and delicious) fucking, and you were so stressed out from work that your body was begging for a release beyond what your favorite workout could give. 
You were just a girl. A horny, needy, sexually frustrated girl. It’s not your fault that the desperation was too strong for you to deny the call of the clit sucker you kept buried in your underwear drawer. It was society’s. 
In the moment, the rationalizing was totally sound. And in the moment, the orgasm was worth it. 
Then, Harry’s facetime came through only a few minutes after you’d come down, as if he had some sort of sixth sense when it came to your orgasms. 
“Hi,” you said after checking to make sure your hair was fine and the toy was safely tossed beneath your bed. 
His brow furrowed on the screen. “Hi, baby.”
“How’s your trip?” You settled into the pillows behind you. 
“Good,” he mumbled. His lips twitched. “Did you touch yourself today?”
“W-what?”
“You did, didn’t you?” His eyes narrowed. “When? Just now?”
You scoffed. “Harry, come on. Of course not. You said–”
“I know what I said. And I know that you didn’t listen.” His voice was stern and it sent a jolt to your core. 
“That’s–”
“Don’t lie to me. I know what you look like after–and it’s all over your face.”
Your cheeks flamed. You were caught. 
“It’s not my fault!”
You could see he was fighting off a smile–a devilish one. “Whose fault is it then?”
“I…” You didn’t really have an answer. 
“That’s what I thought.” You watched his jaw tick through the screen. “I’ll be home tomorrow night. I expect you to already be there when I do. Now, get cleaned up and go to bed.”
He ended the call before you could respond. No ‘goodnight’ or ‘I love you’. You were screwed…and not in the way you would’ve liked. So, feeling a little guilty, you moved into the bathroom, took a shower, and climbed beneath your covers at 9pm. 
The night he got home, he restrained you to the bed without a word. Flat on your back, with your limbs pulled to each respective corner of the bed, he teased your nipples with a paint brush, then your clit, until you were a squirming, writhing mess. Then it was over. He brushed a hand over your cheek and went to take a shower. 
Each night since, the edging had progressively gotten worse. 
You were aroused constantly. Getting through each work day felt like an impossible feat. All you could think about was the nights before–the pleasure in all the teasing–and then the pain in going without any relief. Unfortunately, that only made you wetter. 
You were a zombie through your morning meetings. You nodded when you were supposed to and took down notes just so you didn’t completely check out. You’d been staring at the commissioned article in front of you for almost forty-five minutes, not an edit made because you couldn’t tear your focus from the steady throb between your legs, when a text from Harry came through. 
Same time tonight. 
That’s all it said, though it didn’t need to say anything else. A shiver moved through you. Another night of torture. You held in the groan of frustration (with maybe a bit of anticipation), hoped that your punishment would be over tonight and white-knuckled through the rest of your day. 
You knocked on Harry’s door at exactly 8pm. No dinner together was part of the punishment, and so was not being able to use your key. Those were always part of the punishments, though, and served to remind you of your place in this area of your relationship–that you were not in control, could only come and go as much as he wanted you to, and all the other things that you already knew…and that you sometimes needed reminding of. 
When were you going to learn that being rebellious was fun until it wasn’t (though, punishments could still be kind of fun–not that you would ever tell Harry that)? 
It was a rhetorical question, since you had never exactly been one to submit without a fight.
“Little brat,” he said when he opened the door. “Straight to my room. Take your clothes off in the hall.”
No kiss hello, no smile, no sweetness–just like the last three nights. Maybe the punishments weren’t always fun. Your eyes went to the floor in shame as you went past him and up the stairs. He followed behind you, his footfalls even and sure. He leaned against the wall with his arms over his chest as you pushed your jeans to the floor and peeled off your t-shirt. 
When you went to move into the room, Harry tsked in disapproval. “You know better than that. Don’t make this worse for yourself, sub.”
Your entire body lit up with embarrassment. It was a mistake. You were nervous and anxious to get it over with, not thinking. You knew you weren’t getting a release tonight, could see it in his face, hear it in his voice. Your hands shook as you unclasped your bra, letting it drop to the floor, followed by your panties. 
“In the room, hands against the wall.”
You took a shaky breath and did exactly as he said. 
The thin paddle pressed against your bare ass when he came up behind you and your body clenched. You weren’t exactly a fan. He slid it down the back of your thighs and gave your skin a light tap. 
“Legs apart.” You obeyed and he hummed. “Keep your arms and legs straight, and eyes up.” You took a deep breath in preparation. The paddle came down on your ass and you flinched. “Do I need to repeat myself?”
“N-no, sir.”
“So, you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Whack.
There was no warning or warm-up. He took turns with each cheek, hitting hard and then easing up, so you never knew what to prepare for. At least he didn’t make you count them, not that you thought you could. You were too focused on not letting your knees buckle, fighting not to lean against the wall. 
It went on like that for a while, until the searing burn turned into the kind of sharp numbing that left you dripping. 
After what had to be at least twenty strikes, he dipped his hand between your thighs. Like always, shame slithered in; the embarrassment that all of this turned you on. It disappeared, like it always did, the second Harry made his sound of approval. That little hum that told you he was pleased, even though he wouldn’t vocalize it the way you wanted him too. It was a punishment, after all. 
He brushed his knuckles over your clit and you almost crumpled to the floor. You were so turned on, so needy, that the slightest touch was a straight shot to your core–electric. Two flicks of his fingers and you knew you’d come, which meant even more trouble. 
He touched you again and you hissed. 
“You don’t come. Not until I say.” As if you needed the reminder. 
“Yes…sir.” He chuckled at the breathiness of your voice. It was mean–and hot. He knew it, too. 
The paddle against your skin again, then his fingers moving through your slit. “Such a dirty girl,” he whispered. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to think about anything else besides the pleasure strumming at your core. His fingers were too skilled, they knew your body too well. 
Your left knee buckled–for less than a second–but he caught it. Goosebumps raised across your skin when you heard the three tsks from behind you. 
“I–”
“Shh…” 
You pressed your lips together, forcing the plea back down your throat. 
“On the bed.”
Silently, and with your head down, you walked on shaky legs to sit at its edge. Harry pushed your chest back so you laid down. 
“Don’t move.”
He walked to the wardrobe and pulled out the spreader bar. He strapped in each of your ankles so you couldn’t close your legs and then moved it up, so your knees were bent into your chest. Your breath was ragged and you fought to keep any whimpers from slipping out when he secured your wrists in the cuffs attached to the center of the bar. 
You couldn’t stretch your legs, couldn’t close them–couldn’t move. Completely open to him, you were in the perfect position for him to do whatever he wanted. 
He hummed as he moved back to the wardrobe, opening and closing drawers. He seemed to be making a decision. When he turned back to you, there was a smirk on his face. You took a deep breath when you saw the pink device in his hands. 
He pushed the curved vibrator into you, until the fit was perfectly snug. He made sure to position it so the pad pressed right against your already too-sensitive clit. Then, he went and sat in the armchair a few paces from the corner of the bed. 
It looked as though he was simply scrolling through his phone, his posture relaxed in the chair, head propped against his closed fist–but you knew better. He was making you sweat it out. You knew what was coming–and the wait was agonizing, just as he intended it to be. 
When it came–the sharp buzzing both inside and out–your whole body jerked. As he moved his thumb up and down his screen, the vibrations followed, growing stronger and then mellowing out. 
This was one of your favorite toys, except maybe not anymore. Holding back your orgasm was feeling closer and closer to impossible. Your hips bucked against the mattress, each attempt to get away from the intense vibrations futile. You wanted to cry–knew you would if this didn’t end soon. 
You uselessly struggled against the restraints, your legs trying to close on sheer instinct. The sounds that escaped you seemed more akin to those of an animal than a woman and your entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat. 
Without even thinking about it, you were begging. 
“Please, please, please.” Harry stayed silent. “S-sir, god, please!”
“No.”
The vibrations stopped and your body sagged in a false sense of relief now that the fight was over, though there was no [real] relief. He still refused to let you come.
The whining was involuntary. Each nerve ending was a live wire. If he touched you just once, just [barely] you’d explode. The squirming of your hips against the slick silicone was what pulled him up from his chair. He pulled the device from you, leaving you empty and aching. 
After releasing your wrists and ankles from the restraints, he patted the inside of your thigh. “Go take a shower.” 
That’s it. Nothing else. You felt the pressure behind your eyes as you stood from the bed. You nodded and whispered your “Yes, Sir” as you moved into the en suite. 
Your joints were sore from all your struggling, and all you wanted was a hug. It seemed his point had been made–at least in your opinion. You broke a direct order and then tried to lie about it. That was bad, you got it. Wouldn’t do it again. 
It wasn’t that you couldn’t take the punishment because you could. If not, you would’ve used your safe word. He only ever gave you as much as you could handle and you trusted him with your body entirely, without question. It was the lack of aftercare that was getting to you. During this punishment, he’d been doling out the bare minimum. All you’d gotten was maybe a kiss to the forehead and little love pats to your thighs. You were used to falling asleep in his lap, being wrapped up in a blanket, or being tucked into his side as he prepared you a snack or (upon request) ice cream sundaes. 
Under the hot water, you wiped the tears from your cheeks and let your body relax. You washed your hair and lathered your body using his products (ignoring the ones he kept for you on the shelf) since that was as close to him as he’d allow you to get this week. 
When you opened the shower door, he was standing there, waiting with a towel. “C’mere,” he said as he held it open for you. You stepped into him and he wrapped it around your body, then rubbed his hands up and down your arms. You snuggled as close to him as you could and he kissed the top of your head before saying, “Get dressed and I’ll take you home.”
You wanted to cry again, but didn’t. The punishment would end eventually, and you weren’t going to be weak about it. 
*
It was day four and you were so sexually frustrated, you wanted to cry. Literally. At this point, you were nothing more than a bundle of needy hormones. You had chosen to wear a dress into the office for no other reason than you wouldn’t have been able to deal with the seam of your jeans rubbing against your clit all day. Why torture yourself when Harry was already doing more than enough?
Halfway through your morning, you got a text from your boyfriend requesting that you go straight to his place from work. Thankfully, he couldn’t hear you sigh in annoyance. You didn’t want to be denied anymore. You were tired, and your body was still a little sore from the night before and you were mad at him. He never restrained you like that without some kind of massage afterwards. 
Each time you stood, your knees ached just a little and your hips had been stiff when you got out of bed this morning. Your body–and your brain–had had enough. 
You left work a little later than usual, staying to finish an edit that didn’t need to be done until Monday. The tube ride to his was spent trying not to work yourself up. You leaned back in your seat and listened to an album that your boss had been talking about all week, hoping to distract yourself. It worked until you were standing in front of his door. 
It opened without you having to knock and he smiled softly when he saw you. “Long day?”
So, apparently, you looked as tired as you felt. “I guess.”
He motioned for you to come in and, hesitantly, you did. He took your bags and set them in the entryway. 
“Help me finish dinner?”
Dinner. You tried not to get your hopes up that the punishment was over, but he was relenting. You’d take any allowance you could get at this point. 
“Sure.”
All that was really left to do was make the salad while he pulled everything out of the oven and set the table. 
“Go ahead and sit down,” he said as he took the bowl from in front of you. 
You took your seat and watched him move around the room, back and forth from the table with the roast chicken and sides, to the racks where he kept his wine. He poured you a glass and squeezed the back of your neck–a gesture that was both possessive and comforting. 
As you ate, he asked about work–the kinds of things you were working on, how you were settling in, etc. It was the most conversation the two of you had since he came home and it felt good. Almost too good. As much as you tried to fully relax back into your normal routine and dynamic, you couldn’t lose the last bit of tension in your shoulders. 
You wouldn’t be lured into a false sense of comfort–and Harry knew it too. He tried to hide his little half-smile, and if it were anyone else but you, it would’ve been missed but you knew him too well. 
When you put your napkin on the table signaling you were finished, he cleared the table without a word. He whistled along to the song playing throughout the main floor as you scrolled on your phone, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your attention. 
Really, you were in no place to be petty, but your nature was your nature. You flinched when you felt his hands on your shoulders, massaging into the knots that resided there for months, since the beginning of your new job. It was from stress that you didn’t necessarily mind, since you were doing something you loved. His fingers climbed up the back of your neck and into your hairline, pressing in soft circles. You hummed in satisfaction. 
“Is that good, baby?”
“Mhmm,” you said as your eyes fluttered closed. A quick tug to your hair pulled them open again. So, it was starting. “Yes, Sir,” you corrected, and were rewarded with more kneading at the base of your skull. 
“C’mon, we’re going upstairs.”
Your body buzzed with anticipation as you followed him up and into his room. He kissed your cheekbone as he passed in front of you to go to the wardrobe–the one that you’d come to see as the bane of your existence this last week. 
“Strip and lay on the bed for me.” You did as he said. All he returned with was a pair of soft handcuffs. Once your wrists were fastened together in front of you, he pushed your legs open and took a step back from the bed. 
“Hm.” He pulled his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger as he looked you over. “Pretty.”
The whimper was involuntary as you preened beneath his gaze. You could feel the pulse of your core. You were so sexually frustrated that it took nothing more than his approval for the desire to pool between your legs. The smirk on his face told you he could see it. 
“You didn’t listen to me,” he said as he stepped to the edge of the bed. He reached down and casually traced the outline of you, making sure to keep away from your clit and your center. “Why not?”
“I-I was horny, sir. You kept s-sending me–” You cut yourself off with a needy moan when Harry dipped his fingers in just enough to coat them with you. 
He spread it over your folds until the slickness touched your inner thighs. “Keep going.”
You took a shuddering breath and tried to focus. You also forced your hips to stay down, knowing that if you rocked yourself into his hand, he’d probably pull away. You couldn’t risk that, not when he was being so nice. “You kept sending me texts and photos o-of yourself–oh, god–and telling me all these…things.” 
He brushed his fingers through your folds as you spoke, skirting around the bundle of nerves perfectly primed to set you off. 
“So?”
“So, it made me want you and you weren’t there.”
“So?” He pushed a finger inside and your back arched off the bed. “Eyes open,” he said when they fluttered shut. 
“So, it wasn’t nice. You were teasing me–torturing me on purpose. It wasn’t fair that I had to wait and you didn’t.”
“Life isn’t fair.”
“I–”
“You hate when I say that, I know.” He pushed a second finger inside and you moaned. Your hips tilted forward on their own, seeking out something–anything–for relief. 
He removed his fingers. When he brushed his wet knuckles over your clit, a strangled cry replaced the disappointed sigh that escaped you. 
“Is that what you want, baby?”
You whined and wriggled on the mattress while he held his knuckles just out of reach. 
“Is it?”
“Yes, Sir. Please.” 
“I didn’t get off while I was gone.”
“Okay,” you panted, as you fought your own neediness. 
Harry slapped your clit and you cried out. “Listen to me. I did not get off while I was gone.”
“What? But you–”
“I know, the torture is the point. The teasing. I thought you would’ve learned this by now.” Another brush over your clit. Another moan. “That rule was for both of us. Did you think I wasn’t in agony? Each time you answered or sent a photo in return it took everything in me not to wrap my hand around my cock, but I have some self-control. I have patience. And I understand that whatever pleasure I could give myself wouldn’t compare to the kind I could get from you.”
When you whimpered this time, it wasn’t with need, but shame. You may have felt a little bad about breaking the rule now, and not just because it meant a little disappointment and a punishment. This was a big disappointment, you could hear it in his tone. It wasn’t just breaking a simple rule, but ruining something that was supposed to be good for the both of you. Granted, in your defense, he could’ve told you that, but you also knew why he didn’t: he shouldn’t have had to. 
“Sir, I’m really sorry.”
“I bet you are.” He gave your clit a pinch that sent a flash of heat over your entire body. “I should make you wait another week. Edge you every night until you're begging for my cock, and then still not give it just so we’re even.”
“I–”
“Quiet.” He grabbed your hips and pulled you further down the bed. He placed his knee on the mattress, positioning his thigh only an inch from your clit. “You want to come so badly, go ahead.”
Your brow lifted in surprise. “What?”
“Go ahead, come. You have my permission, but I’m not helping you. You want it, take it, or I’ll uncuff you, and you can get dressed so I can take you home.”
“Sir–”
“You’ve got less than a minute before I dress you myself.” The hard edge to his voice told you he wasn’t kidding. Not in the slightest.
You looked from the stern set of his face down to his jean-clad thigh. When you looked back at your boyfriend, his jaw was set. He didn’t move or say a word. 
Your entire body heated with something close to embarrassment, but it was also mixed with anticipation, shame, and need. You didn’t want to go home, you wanted to get off and if this was all he was offering, you’d have to take it. Especially since, if you didn’t, you’d be in even more trouble with him. You didn’t need him to say it to know. 
You planted your heels into the mattress and closed the gap between you two. When you lifted your hips, your clit brushed against the rough material and you groaned. You rolled your hips against his thigh and cursed. It felt so good. You knew it wouldn’t take you very long to cum. The only thing stopping you from instantly falling over the edge was the fact that you could only get close enough for a light brushing–there was no pressure. The only real friction came from the coarse fabric–but it would be enough. More than enough. 
Your abs and thighs burned as you held your hips up, and with every rock of your hips, the muscles in your stomach contracted with the effort. This was its own kind of punishment, you realized. He was making you work for it. 
You had kept your eyes locked on his stiff cock pushing against the front of his jeans, not sure if you wanted to know how exactly he was looking at you. 
“That’s it, baby.” 
But, of course, all it took was that little bit of praise to get your attention. The sternness was still there, but there was also heat. He wanted you–and he seemed to love seeing you like this: needy and unbelievably desperate. Because that’s what you were. Getting your release was all you could think of. 
You wanted something to hold onto, to grip onto the blankets beneath you for more stability, but you couldn’t do it with your wrists handcuffed together. You whined with the realization. 
“I know.” The comfort was full of condescension, and you wished it didn’t turn you on even more, but it did. 
You were sweating from exertion, but you were so close. 
“C’mon, baby. Rub yourself on my thigh. I can feel how wet you are, my dirty girl.” 
You looked down to see for yourself. Where you rubbed yourself was a much darker shade of blue. Your head fell back with a moan. 
In an act of undeserved kindness, Harry pressed his thigh against you, offering you the most delicious kind of friction; the kind that almost hurt. 
It was only another second before you were tumbling over the edge. You came so hard that stars erupted behind your eyes, and your skin felt white hot. You were sure you cursed and cried out his name but you were so detached from reality that you couldn’t know for sure. 
He didn’t wait for you to come down from the high. He undid the fastening of his jeans before leaning over and uncuffing your wrists. “Up.” He walked to the right side of the bed and took a seat. “Come and sit on my cock.”
Still in somewhat of a daze, you did as he said. As soon as he pulled his length from the confines of his jeans, you straddled his hips and sank down. 
“Fucking hell,” he groaned. He gripped your waist and guided your hips, holding you down so he was fully sheathed. 
You ignored the harsh rubbing of material against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and focused on how good it felt to feel him inside of you. 
“You’re gonna come again,” he said before sucking on your neck, leaving a mark that you hoped would be gone by the time you had to go back to the office after the weekend. 
You whimpered, not entirely confident you had it in you. Your clit was overstimulated and raw from the week’s torture. “It’s going to hurt.”
“I know. You’ll do it anyway.”
When his voice was that deep and raspy, so commanding, who were you to argue?
“Yes,Sir.”
He pulled you far enough away that he could dip down and lick your peaked nipples. He sucked and nibbled until your chest and cheeks were red hot with the building of another orgasm. 
“Oh, god.” You gripped the collar of his t-shirt. 
He hummed against your skin. “That’s it. Keep going.” He held you tight enough that you wouldn’t be able to disconnect your clit from where it rubbed against the base of him even if you wanted to–and you were really walking that line. It was almost unbearable, the pleasure only a hair away from pain. 
When he tilted his hips to hit that special spot inside, the tension ripped loose. You dug your nails into the muscle of his shoulders as your body shook against his, your hips rocking frantically, both chasing the high and trying to get away from it. 
“Fuck,” he groaned into your neck as he emptied himself inside you. With a strong arm wrapped around your waist, he kept you riding him through both of your orgasms as your body filled with exhaustion. 
He peppered kisses over your chest, shoulders, neck and jaw until you felt him go soft, still tucked inside. You were close to falling asleep on his chest when he pulled out and lifted you up into his arms. 
“Shower first,” he whispered before kissing the top of your head and carrying you into the en suite. He set you on the counter and disappeared.
He came back with a cold glass of water, which you took happily. He turned the shower on, pulled two towels from the wardrobe and set them on the fancy warmer before returning to you. His hands moved from your shoulder to cup your face and he leaned in to kiss you. 
“You did well this week, love.”
“It sucked.”
He laughed. “It was supposed to.” Another peck to your lips and he helped you down. “Go ahead.”
You stepped into the shower and watched through the quickly fogging glass as he stripped. The second he stepped in you were glued to him, your head to his chest and his arms around your waist. 
You only pulled apart when he washed you. His hands moved over your body, soft and soapy, digging into the muscles he had neglected the nights before. 
“I think I owe you a massage or two.”
“Try three–at least.”
He kissed your hip from his spot beneath you. When he brought his hand up to wash between your legs, you flinched. 
“Sore?”
“A little numb, actually. Wasn’t even expecting that to hurt.” 
He kissed right above your mound. “Sorry, love. I’ll be gentle.”
He finished his task and you took over, doing the same for him. Despite his hardening length, he didn’t try to touch you again, or ask you to help him relieve what must have been a lot of pent up frustration. Instead, he held your face in his hands and kissed you, murmuring soft I love yous in between. 
After toweling each other off, he turned down the covers, put on Sleepless in Seattle and promised to make you blueberry pancakes in the morning.
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cupid-styles · 3 days
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daisy 3 - the epilogue (english profrry x quiet TA!yn)
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the final part!! sorry it took forever for me to finish this series. I really hope you guys enjoyed it and like this little part that wraps everything up :)
part one | part two
word count: 2.9k
content warnings: inappropriate relationship, minor age gap (4 years), not ramadan friendly
main masterlist | talk to me
. . .
Y/N and Harry shift into a relationship — or what feels like one — faster than either could have ever anticipated. 
In hindsight, Y/N supposes it makes sense. They’d been suppressing romantic and intimate feelings for each other and now that it’d all come to a peak (no pun intended), tangled between Y/N’s cotton sheets, it felt oddly… natural.
The entire thing made her warm with happiness, a busy kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering through her tummy every time she even thought of waking up next to Harry. They hadn’t had another sleepover since that evening, and admittedly, she’d been a bit scared that she would wake up to rushed apologies and explanations of “I need to get out of here, this was a mistake”, but it had been quite the opposite. 
The following morning, when her sleepy eyes cracked open, she felt a warm weight pressed up against her back. It took her a moment to come to, but when she did, she remembered the strenuous activities from the night prior, and blushed and rolled over to find the object of her affection waking up from his own deep sleep. 
“Morning,” he’d croaked before smiling through puffy eyes. “Can I make you breakfast?”
That had been two weeks ago, and it seemed like the cotton candy cloud they were floating on had yet to touch the ground.
It went without saying that they were still extremely careful on campus — however, now that the temperatures were shifting into a more comfortable number, jackets were being shed and bright tulip bulbs and crocuses were beginning to pop up from the moist soil. They were telltale signs that spring was steadily bolting their way, which meant that the end of the semester was, too. Between the hopeful weather and the pastel-hued beginnings of a relationship between the two, it was enough to pull Y/N from the inklings of her seasonal depression and Harry from his own existential dread. 
In short: It was good. Things were finally good, even if they hadn’t talked things through or officially decided on what they were doing yet. Y/N thinks she was okay with that, as long as it meant she was on the receiving end of Harry’s gentle kisses or his sweet goodnight texts. 
Yeah. She could most definitely live with that.
. . .
“I found a kitten last night.”
The words make Y/N blink her eyes open. Their lips hadn’t even been fully disconnected by the time his words were ghosting over the seam of her mouth, an apparent eagerness to verbalize this new development from the past 24 hours. 
“Oh?” Y/N asks with a quirked brow, fingertips focused on the feeling of his soft knit cardigan. 
“When I was taking the garbage out,” he quickly explains. “She was hiding behind the trash cans.”
“She?”
Harry shifts from foot to foot and Y/N immediately identifies his body language as nervousness — he’s nervous to tell her about this cat he found near his building complex, and the thought, for some reason, makes her body bubble with giggles. 
“I looked to see if she had a collar or tag or anything and she doesn’t. I took her in and washed her off. She was starving, but I was thinking of taking her to the vet when I leave campus today.”
Y/N hums, “Well if she was starving and dirty, it’s a good thing she found you.”
A pinkish flush flowers over Harry’s cheeks and he shrugs his shoulders. “The vet in town is always swamped with college kids impulsively adopting animals. I was thinking of taking her to the one a bit further away.”
“Oh, that’s smart,” Y/N nods, tugging the strap of her tote bag a little closer to her body. Harry normally isn’t so slow in his goodbyes to her, and she really needs to get to the library to work on an essay outline. 
“Will you come with me?”
Her eyebrows nearly fly up to the ceiling. They’ve never done anything in public together — not since they saw each other at Target a few months back, and that doesn’t even count because they weren’t seeing each other back then. It was something that made Y/N toss and turn at night. She knew that in the eyes of the university, their relationship was forbidden — neither of them were that dim to understand that — but in any other context, there was no reason why a couple of their age couldn’t be together. It sometimes made her wish that they did meet under different circumstances, like at a bar or even swiping right on a dating app. 
“I was thinking maybe you could stay over afterwards, because the only appointment they had available for this evening was at 7 pm and I’m not sure how late we would get back,” Harry tacks on, and the addition only makes her stomach continue to swarm with nervous butterflies. “You can say no. I just thought it would be nice. A stay-at-home date, maybe.”
She’s nodding like a robot before her brain even allows her the opportunity to think it over. And yeah, call her childish, maybe, but the thought of him calling it a date — she supposes this is the closest they can get to one in the near future — makes her heart skip a beat.
“That does sound nice,” she agrees with a smile. “Do you want to pick me up at 6? I’ll… I can pack a bag and we’ll go from the vet to yours later on?”
He nods, mirroring her own enthusiastic grin. “Okay.”
. . .
After a marathon at the library (she was in the beginning stages of doing research on a comparative essay on Emily Brontë’s work), Y/N trekked back to her apartment, stuffed some food down her throat, showered, and packed a bag for Harry’s. 
She was a little nervous — okay, maybe fairly nervous, considering the last time they did anything close to this, it had all been very spur of the moment. Things weren’t awkward because of it (it was the opposite, actually), but the rest of their relationship had been spent in Harry’s tiny office. They played footsies while they graded, ordered takeout to the English building while they spoke about their days, and snuck loved-up smiles when they passed each other on campus, but this felt more… finite, maybe. Real. Like they could exist outside the confines of their university.
Harry texts her when he’s on his way and then when he’s downstairs at 6 o’clock on the dot (here xx, which makes Y/N’s heart flutter). She has her usual purse on one shoulder and a tote bag on the other, where she’s packed pajamas for the night, an outfit for tomorrow, and all of her toiletries. She swallows as she locks the front door and turns to see the familiar navy sedan parked right outside, biting her lip when she sees the curly haired brunette in the driver’s seat. 
“Hey,” he greets the second she gets in the car. She flashes him a smile, though his own facial expression exudes an air of nervousness, “Do you know much about cats?” 
“Um, my sister brought a stray in when we were kids. We only kept her for a few days, but I guess I know a little.”
Harry nods, “I’m scared she’s anxious back there. I tried to make the carrier as comfortable as possible for her, but she’s probably nervous, right? She’s in a weird guy’s car and she doesn’t know where she’s going.”
Y/N breathes out a laugh as she twists her body to look in the backseat. Low and behold, there’s a brand new carrier with a small kitten inside. She coos at its salt and pepper fur as she unlocks the gate, gently reaching in to grab the cat. She can’t be larger than a few pounds, and Harry’s right about her being nervous — she’s trembling, whether it be from the confusion of the situation or an issue the vet will likely tell them about. 
“Here, I’ll hold her for the ride,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a delicate kiss to the top of her head, “She just needs some love, hm?” 
“She kept slipping on the hardwood floors in my apartment last night. I felt so bad.” Harry replies as he puts the car in drive, a slight pout on his lips. Y/N laughs lightly at the thought, stroking her forefinger over the kitten’s back. 
“Poor baby,” she glances up at Harry, blinking when she realizes he’d been glimpsing down between them and the road, “Did you think of any names for her?”
He coughs and flicks his right signal on, “Um, yeah. I thought of a few. Haven’t really decided on anything yet, though. I guess it depends on whether or not the vet thinks it’s a good idea to keep her.”
“Sure,” Y/N hums, though she can already tell from her brief knowledge of pets that the likelihood of this little kitten having a home is slim. She’s tiny and underweight and doesn’t have a collar, which means she probably isn’t chipped, either. “I think you’d do well as a cat dad. Maybe you can adopt if this little one doesn’t work out.”
“You think so?”
A small smile cracks at the edges of Y/N lips. It’s apparent that Harry’s scared and needs some sort of reassurance from someone, and she’s happy to be the provider. “Of course I do. I think you have a lot of love to give, Harry.”
She watches as his throat bobs before his own lips form a gentle smile. 
“Yeah. I think I do, too.” 
He reaches over and carefully intertwines their fingers together. When she gives his hand a small squeeze, she thinks she sees his body visibly relax. 
. . .
As Y/N anticipated, the kitten Harry found doesn’t belong to anyone. 
The vet does a thorough check-up and the results are relatively positive; she’s just on the malnourished side and will need a lot of food, love, and care to get her to a place where she’s considered to be healthy. She advises Harry to bring the cat back in a month to do another weigh-in just to make sure her diet is nutritionally-dense enough, and he has no problem agreeing. 
Y/N scoops the kitten up and gently scratches and pets at the back of her head as Harry talks to the receptionist, supplying information about his name and phone number for the follow-up appointment. It’s only when he’s asked for the kitten’s name that he somewhat freezes. Y/N peers up, assuming he’s just nervous because he hasn’t settled on anything yet. It’s understandable, she supposes — if her parents had let her and her sister keep that kitten from their childhood, they probably would have named it “Princess Muffins” or “Little Lady Kisses”, which Y/N just thinks is embarrassing for the cat.
“Ophelia,” he murmurs lowly before coughing into his hand. The receptionist doesn’t question it as she quickly types it in, but it makes Y/N’s eyebrows raise. She continues scratching at Harry’s newly named cat, using her blunt fingernails to slowly rub the patches of fur behind her ears. She’s not sure if she’s being too fussy and self-centered, but if she remembers correctly, the first time she and Harry met, they talked about how Ophelia from Hamlet was a big inspiration for Y/N’s capstone project. She shrugs it off, especially when they’re done at the vet and they step into the low light of the evening. Silently, they walk side-by-side and back to Harry’s car. 
Daylight savings, despite being a stupid concept, arrived just a few weeks prior, which means they’re now privy to a few more hours of daylight before night stretches over the sky. It’s nice — spring hasn’t completely sprung up yet, but there are little reminders here and there that it’s coming. It isn’t freezing tonight but there’s a slight chill in the air, so both she and Harry are bundled up beneath cozy crewneck sweatshirts. He pulls the sleeves of his over his knuckles and the small action makes Y/N’s heart squeeze.
“Are you fine to hold her on the drive back?” Harry asks once they’re back in his car. She nods happily, content with having a small, cuddly kitten curl up on her lap for the next 30 minutes. The evening sunlight bathes the interior of the vehicle as Harry pulls out of his parking spot, flicking on his left blinker to take them back to his place. 
“D’you wanna get Thai for dinner?” Y/N asks, suppressing a yawn as she turns her head to look at the male beside her. Again, she watches as his muscles melt a bit, less rigid than they were just a moment or two before, and a smile edges at his lips as he nods his head. 
“That sounds great. Could go for some pad thai.”
“Mm, me too,” she agrees, taking her phone out to pull up the ordering app, “Can we split some dumplings, too?”
“I’d love that.”
She smiles to herself and they chat aimlessly and quietly about their respective orders, each of them deciding on noodle dishes (Harry opts for a veggie-only option while Y/N picks shrimp) and an order of mushroom dumplings. She asks if he’s vegetarian or trying to be — she presumes it’d be a rather important thing to know about the person she’s… dating? Casually seeing? What were they doing? — but he shrugs noncommittally, as he does for many questions she asks. It’s almost as if he’s not used to people asking him about his likes and preferences, and she thinks that’s dumb. She wants to know everything there is to know about him. 
When she prods him about his vegetable forward habits, he finally explains that no, he’s not a vegetarian, but he likes to eat meat-free when he can. This prompts her to ask him about his other tastes: His favorite ice cream flavor (Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food, which she approves of), his favorite flowers (pink tulips because his mom used to grow them), and his go-to drink when he goes out (“I never go out, I’m an old man, but I am partial to a tequila soda”). 
Her time playing 20 Questions is finally up after he picks up their food and they arrive back at his place. By now, the sun has fully retreated and Ophelia is sound asleep in Y/N’s lap. When he puts the car in park, he stops her before they go inside. 
“Why are you asking me all these things?” he asks with a wrinkle between his eyebrows. She resists the urge to reach out and smooth it with her thumb.
“I just wanna know. I’m curious.” she replies, shrugging.
“You wanna know about the first album I ever bought and how old I was when I had my first kiss?”
“Of course I do,” she pauses, confused. “Why? Do you not want me to know those things?”
He shakes his head. “No, no. I just… I don’t know. I’m surprised.”
“I don’t know how much more forward I can be with my feelings,” she says softly, nibbling on her bottom lip, “I know this is technically against the rules or whatever, but… I like you. You know that, right? That what I feel for you goes beyond sex and some silly fantasy.”
She watches as he swallows tightly. 
“I like you too,” he murmurs, reaching out to take her free hand into his. “I’m sorry I let my insecurities get the best of me but it’s just… odd, I guess, to imagine that you really, truly like me. I sound like a middle schooler, god—”
“Don’t do that.” she quickly shakes her head. If it weren’t for Ophelia still perched atop her thighs, she’d reach forward and take his face between her hands. “Don’t belittle yourself. I like you, Harry. So much that I’m willing to risk my status as a student. You get that, don’t you?”
“Of course,” he nods swiftly, “And you understand what I’m risking, right?”
It’s not meant to be a one-up — it’s genuine and it’s real, and she nods her head and swallows the small lump of tears that’s developed in her throat. It’s the reality of their relationship and it’s necessary to address, especially if either one of them wants to go any further. 
With Harry, he has more to lose. He’d be fired, of course, but his degrees could be taken into question, too. His license as a professor. Everything he’s worked for, all potentially wasted on Y/N.
It’s a heavy weight for her to wear.
But, as if he can read her mind (or maybe he can just read her facial expression), he gives her hand a squeeze. 
“And you’re more than worth it, Y/N.” he says with soft eyes. 
“Will you be my boyfriend?” she blurts out without thinking. Her eyes immediately widen while Harry’s crease with happiness, and she’d contemplate taking back if not for the massive grin that stretches across his face. 
“Truly, I thought you’d never ask,” he replies cheekily, and Y/N responds with a gentle swat to the chest. He laughs. “I did name my cat after you, after all.”
. . .
That night, when Harry has Ophelia tucked into one side and Y/N into the other, and she’s half-asleep as they watch another episode of whatever docuseries she convinced him to turn on, after they’ve eaten themselves into a Thai food coma and talked about the latest books they’ve read with promises to exchange them, he realizes he’s never been so happy in his life. 
Y/N can comfortably say the same. 
380 notes · View notes
daisyblog · 4 months
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Couples Quiz Challenge
Our Story Masterlist Summary: The TikTok ‘Couples Quiz Challenge’.
Another day of YN asking Harry to do another TikTok trend with her, this time the couples challenge. The voice over asked the questions, whilst YN and Harry pointed to themselves or each other, depending on what they asked. 
“Who initiated the first kiss?”. Without thought, they both pointed to YN, laughing together when YN looked really proud. 
“Who apologises first after a fight?”. Harry pointed to himself without hesitation, but YN thought a little before giving up and pointing to Harry because she knew it was true. 
“Who is the funny one?”. YN and Harry pointed at each other. 
“Who is more romantic?”. YN pointed straight to Harry, and had a confused expression at the sight of Harry giving it thought. “It’s you.” 
“Who is the most patient?”. Harry smiled as he smugly pointed towards himself. YN rolling her eyes, knowing how much this was feeding his ego. 
“Who’s the better cook?”. They both thought a little at this one, and eventually agreed that it was the both of them. 
“Who said I love you first?”. YN and Harry pointed at themselves, and can be seen having a disagreement and insisting that they had said it first. 
“Who takes longer to get ready?”. Two fingers pointed straight to YN, who had a guilty look written on her face as she knew she took way too long to get ready. 
“Who is grumpier in the morning?”. YN held an offended expression when Harry was quick to point at her. 
“Who’s more stubborn?”. Again, Harry didn’t hesitate to point at YN. Who gave him a glare before they burst into laughter. 
“Who’s the bigger baby when sick?”. The couple found this one a little difficult, as neither of them were. 
“Who is the social butterfly?”. They both agreed when they pointed towards YN. Despite Harry being outgoing and confident, he liked his own space and was quite content with his own company. 
“Who’s the messy one?”. YN wasted no time pointing her finger towards Harry, who only shrugged his shoulders and quickly stole a kiss on her cheek before YN ended the video. 
Tag List:
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255 notes · View notes
bonesandchalamet · 8 months
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welcome to the final show - h.styles
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masterlist
pairings: harry styles x reader!
warnings: fluff
a/n: in my depressed era now that tour is over ☹️
it’s over. it’s somehow a bittersweet ending that for some reason, you never saw actually coming to an end. he’s exhausted, but his heart has never been so full seeing his fans send the love right back to him night after night, and this one seems to get to him more.
family, friends, team members, band members, and even celebrity guests all approach his sweaty body first. fist bumps, high fives, and hugs are all he knows for the next couple of minutes, until the crowd of loved ones part like the sea to reveal you. a kiss would be nice, he thinks to himself. after all, it’s the second most magical thing he could experience after his final performance.
“you did such a good job, h.” you launch your body into his. the smell of his heightened body odor doesn’t bother you in this moment. you just press yourself further into him before pulling away and giving him what he wants. a kiss.
“you enjoy it?” he asks like it’s a ever question. every moment of each show was more than enjoyable, so when he sees you roll your eyes he knows. he knows you loved every second until it was over.
“go get changed.” you point in the direction of his dressing room, and it hits him. the emptiness in his gut appears once again attempting to swallow him. this was over. the performing would actually stop and he could have a break. you can already see the wheels turning in his head, he’s wondering what he’ll do with his free time. he’s never had this much of it since COVID.
“what if I want to stay in this?” he gestures to the gold fringe suit he’s wearing, the vest showing off his beautiful abs and butterfly tattoo. one of his best outfits, you thought to yourself when you saw him enter the stage.
“I won’t mind that.” you smile, cheeks hurting so badly from the whole night of doing so, but you still press on watching his eyes light up at your approval.
you know why he doesn’t want to take it off. it’ll be like admitting the best thing thats ever really happened to be over. that him hearing his fans scream when the lights drop, sing his lyrics back to him, and dance to his songs will be over. the joy he brought to millions upon millions would finally stop. for the first time, he could fly home and have no where else to be later.
“I bet he’ll sleep like a baby tonight.” Anne wraps her arms around your shoulders, a tight smile on her lips and tear stained cheeks that match yours. she’s proud of her sons accomplishments, but she knows he’s ready to go home. she knows he’s ready to sleep in your arms for hours upon hours.
you nod in agreement watching him trot off to Lloyd, his camera hung around his neck showing the band members his photography of the night.
“I got this picture of you, y/n.” Lloyd’s eyebrows wiggle in a mischievous way, harry taps his shoulder with his index finger begging to show him already.
“calm down!” Lloyd laughs, his thumb clicking through the photos until it stops and settles on, what you believe, is an image of you.
harry takes the camera in his hands, a small smile forms on his lips as he stares long and hard at the picture. it’s like if he blinks the image of your visibly tears streaming down your cheeks, bright smile, and pink boa would all go away.
“I love this picture, can you print it out for me?” harry taps the small screen, and he talks with Lloyd like you’re not there. the camera gets passed around to band members again, and your image fades with the millions of other ones.
“was it a good picture?” you ask him when he’s finally moved on from the group and back over to you.
“darling, the best picture ever. going to have it framed forever.” he presses his lips against your temple, arms wrapping around your body, and once again you’re pulled into his sweaty body.
“going to have this night framed for ever as well. it was one for the books.” you watch him nod, arms wrap tighter around you for a second, “now let’s go home, h.”
“I couldn’t have agreed more, let’s go home.”
645 notes · View notes
sparkrls · 2 months
Text
Youtuber!Y/N x Harry Styles
MASTERLIST
Summary: Y/N is a Youtuber who does videos on celebrity gossip, then gets cancelled for the unethical nature of her channel. And finds her way to Harry to be better and learn from her mistakes.
Author’s Note: Tumblr exclusive! We’re feeding the girlies 🤪
•••
THE DEVIL HAS FALLEN: Y/N Y/L/N FEUD WITH AMANDA MCADAMS FINALLY OVER?
After months of a brutal and relentless feud between Youtube influencer Y/N Y/L/N and actress Amanda McAdams, it seems that Y/N has finally disappeared
After deleting all social media posts, and wiping her accounts clean, Y/N released a statement on twitter, declaring:
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Y/N Y/L/N started off as a Youtube creator, filming videos of her singing covers of her favorite songs. After finding no success, she began to venture into creating videos about the one thing she knew everything about: celebrity culture.
Y/N found rapid success and her videos soon became viral, with her first series, ‘Internet Gossip’, explaining various cases of infamous celebrity deama. With the rise of social media and a wave of consuming media based on celebrity drama and gossip, Y/N found her place among an audience of mostly young women.
Soon becoming very successful with her videos, she branched out, beginning a few series, among them, ‘Salty Scandal’, focused on celebrity feuds and ‘Radical Romance’, about ongoing or previous famous relationships.
Although Y/N had a large fanbase, her rise to celebrity status was her first red carpet at the People’s Choice Awards, where she participated as an interviewer. It didn’t take long for her to become viral, as she was abrasive and blunt with her questions, not wasting time by beating around the bush.
Among fans and watchers, she was known as someone who searched for truth. Among those questioned, she was thought of as a person who dedicated their life to exposing others and invading privacy.
Y/N began to see the results of her fame. Her community grew and she hosted countless red carpets, interviewing the most famous people on the planet. And just as she seemed on top of the world, her downfall came from her own creation.
With the video, ‘Amanda McAdam: Actress or Victim?’, Y/N claimed that McAdam’s had dramatized her experience with a verbally abusive director, and that it was all for ‘a pity party’.
Following this video, McAdam’s and Y/L/N began a long feud, including several Twitter arguments and subtle shade thrown at each other in interviews or Instagram posts.
It culminated in what seemed to be the final blow; McAdam leaking Y/L/N's address. People and paparazzi alike stood outside of Y/L/N's home, with signs and hollers to let her know what they thought of her. This caused the Youtuber to have to hire private security to escort her as she moved to an undisclosed new home.
Everyone is glad to see Y/N, the devil of the internet, finally gone from the public view. Hopefully forever.
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liked by y/nstan07 and 188,242 others
celebrityupdates Y/N Y/L/N spotted for the first time in THREE MONTHS out in LONDON today!
view all 2,541 comments
username1 wtf? who wants to see her?
username2 Did I miss something? Since when is she in hiding? And didn't she use to live in LA?
-> username3 Since her address was leaked by Amanda
-> username2 omg, that’s so fucked up
-> username3 Y/N had it coming after all the shit she said about Amanda
username4 idc what y’all say, y/n is still an icon and that b**ch
username5 I don't agree with anything that Y/N does, but her having to move to another CONTINENT to avoid stalkers and death threats is too far
username6 she should’ve stayed in hiding
username7 Y/N is so fake, she deserves all the hate, tbh
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liked by yourinstagram and 5,927 others
ynisthatbitch Y/N for her newest interview with Variety
view all 1,876 comments
username1 WTF? Isn’t she cancelled?
username2 I really don’t care how much she claims to have ‘changed and improved’. Once a devil always a devil
username3 Y/N does NOT deserve a redemption arc after all the shit she talked
username4 Does Y/N seriously think that she can disappear a few months, claim to have gone to therapy and done self-reflection and everything will be fine?
-> username5 I think she just craves attention
-> username6 LMAO fr, Y/N just wants to be famous again. TOO BAD!
username7 Honestly y’all, if you took the time to read the article properly, you’d understand that Y/N was just a teenager!
-> username8 Y/N was literally fifteen when she started making those videos. Every 15-year-old makes mistakes
-> username9 Y/N is no longer 15. She’s now 21 and should know better.
-> username10 Or maybe it took a reality check to burst Y/N’s bubble and make her realize that she’d normalized things that shouldn’t be normalized?
-> username9 That sounds like excuses to me
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liked by sparkrls and 107,187 others
harryflorals HARRY AND Y/N Y/L/N LEAVING THE SAME GYM TODAY IN LONDON!
view all 15,678 comments
username1 WHAT THE FUCK???
username2 this cannot be real
username3 why would harry associate with the devil?
-> username4 lmao fr fr
username5 It has to be a coincidence
-> username6 Did Harry conveniently forget that Y/N once made a whole video about his relationship with Kendall Jenner and called it a 'wretched PR stunt’???
-> username7 I find it crazy to believe that THIS isn’t a PR stunt
username8 Maybe y’all shouldn’t make assumptions about people you haven’t met? Harry clearly knows Y/N personally and has good judgment.
-> username9 stfu, no one asked for your opinion
username10 Is it so wild to believe that people can change (Y/N)?
-> username11 once a devil, always a devil
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liked by gemmastyles and 833,384 others
annetwist It was wonderful to meet the lovely @yourinstagram and finally hear her perspective on her life! Read the article, written by yours truly. Thank you, Y/N, for your well-thought and introspective words ❤️
view all 22,864 comments
yourinstagram Thank you for giving me the chance to talk to you and share my side of the story 🫶
-> annetwist 💕
username1 Y/N is Anne-approved. That’s all I need to know.
username2 what is wrong with the world?
username3 I expected better of you. I thought you had common decency than to associate with the devil
-> annetwist I believe that God is all about forgiveness and Y/N has found her way to kindness and forgiveness ❤️
username4 say it with me, 4+4=
-> username5 ATEEE
username6 Thank you, Anne, for interviewing Y/N and giving us such a fresh perspective on everything that happened in her life. Loved the article 💕
-> annetwist Thank you, love
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liked by gemmastyles and 2,194,801 others
yourinstagram Hell Is My Birthplace. New Single. Jun 1, 2022.
view all 7,657 comments
annetwist Can’t wait to hear it
harrystyles 🔥
-> username1 EXCUSE ME?!?
taylorswift WOW. Loved the preview 😉
-> username2 MOTHER?
-> username3 nothing is more iconic than y/n’s once greatest rivals now becoming her biggest supporters
username4 Y’all doubting if Y/N changed, but if Taylor and Harry can forgive her, so can I
username5 ICON. MOTHER.
username6 you don’t get it. y/n was called a devil and now she’s saying hell is her birthplace. and it was announced on the anniversary of her cancellation. you just don’t get it.
username7 no one will ever love y/n and her cunty moves more than me
username8 I LOVE YOU
username9 I hope your address gets leaked again
username10 ONCE A DEVIL ALWAYS A DEVIL
-> username11 stfu
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liked by ynstan07 and 15,768 others
ynupdates INSIDER INFO FROM DEUXMOI!
view all 1,656 comments
username1 I can’t imagine Harry with someone with Y/N
username2 Honestly, I get it. As an ‘I can fix him’ girlie, I understand Harry 😔
username3 not my husband with the devil!!!
username4 Speechless
username5 they lowkey seem cute together
username6 I'm happy if Harry is happy
username7 If Harry is dating her, then Y/N has definitely changed
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liked by harrystyles and 1,646,410 others
yourinstagram Paint the Town Red. 2nd Single.
view all 2,678 comments
username1 not harry liking all of her posts 😭
-> username2 man is WHIPPED
username3 MMM SHE THE DEVIL
-> username4 obsessed with y/n leaning into the devil image during her comeback
username5 is anyone concerned that she’s being so provocative?
-> username6 y/n has been laying low and keeping her life to herself. i’m not concerned
-> username7 i think she’s the happiest she’s ever been, tbh
username8 that line "You can't talk no shit without penalties" DAMN
-> yourinstagram I said what I said
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liked by harrystyles and 1,121,107 others
yourinstagram dancing with our hands tied. a good metaphor and my 3rd single. out now <3
view all 3,787 comments
harrystyles 💕
-> username1 harry KNOWS this song is about him and y/n
-> username2 He’s a proud boyfriend and we stan
username3 omg the soft launch
username4 PARENTS 😭
username5 lowkey concerned about the two together
username6 am i the only one who doesn’t like the two of them together? it feels icky
-> username7 good thing it’s not your relationship
-> username6 y/n is a terrible person
-> username8 you’ve never met her. don’t make assumptions
username9 awww my babies 😭
username10 I LOVE YOUR MUSIC AAAAA
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liked by yourinstagram and 5,677,207 others
harrystyles Grammys. February 2024.
view all 87,567 comments
yourinstagram thanks for being my date <3
-> harrystyles always xx
username1 not my parents flirting in the comments 😭😭😭
annetwist cuties 💕
gemmastyles love you both ❤️
username5 THE FAMILY APPROVAL
username6 Y/N is officially the first gf to be on Harry’s IG feed
username7 tbh, I think that Harry really helped Y/N at her worst and allowed her to redeem herself
-> username8 FR. look at her smile. She’s never seemed so happy. I think Y/N is finally being herself
-> harrystyles Y/N did all the work herself, I was just along for the ride x
-> yourinstagram Don’t be fooled no matter what he says, he saved me.
username10 WAR IS OVEEERRRR
username11 I love seeing Y/N grow so much in her life
-> username12 I don’t think she ever liked who she was before. She seems so happy now
-> yourinstagram Funny how being yourself can fulfill a person. Become a version of yourself that you can love and love will surround you
167 notes · View notes
kilistina · 1 year
Text
friends, right? pt.2
you didn’t really think i’d leave you hanging like that, did you??
word count: 4.2k-ish
disc. nsfw content ahead. mdni. includes fem!reader n harry styles, daddy kink ig, teasing, praise, oral, sexy time, bold ass language, best friends but not really vibes n other hot shit.
read pt.1 here <3
•••
You open your eyes with difficulty, finding it hard not to melt away at how good Harry’s thigh is making you feel. If he’s making you feel so good by just sitting there and letting you use him, how good could he make you feel if he actually does something to you himself? God—
“Gonna cum for me, love?” Harry’s voice is in your ear and all you want is to come undone, “Can feel you shaking already.”
“Fuck—” You struggle to keep your eyes open as you moan, “I’m..H—Harry I’m—”
He cuts you off with a kiss, and you moan into his mouth, “I know love, s’okay. Let it happen, let it out. Let me feel it,” He whispers as you pull away, his eyes set on yours as you continue to move your hips along his thigh, “Cum for me, Red.”
Oh. Oh.
Your mouth falls open, your eyes rolling back as your orgasm takes you by surprise, crashing down all at once. Your legs begin to shake and Harry holds you in place, his hands by your waist as he watches you.
“There you go,” He whispers words of praise to you, kissing your neck as you throw your head back lazily, “Theeere you go, love.”
You whimper as he continues to move your hips against him, letting you ride out your high.
“Yeah? I know, poor baby,” He smirks at how fucked out you already are, taunting you, “So good for me, hm?”
You bite down on your lip and nod, and he leans in to bite it himself. You melt against him, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to deepen your kiss.
“Stand up.” He murmurs against your lips, and you oblige.
He grabs a hold of your hand, knowing you’ll need it in a second. You struggle for a moment when you first get up, using Harry as support. It takes you a few seconds but you’re able to stand. 
Harry’s eyes are on you and he’s taking you in, looking at you properly for the first time since you took your clothes off. He was in such a rush before, such a rush to let you use him, such a rush to make you feel good—that he didn’t realise how fucking sexy you look with nothing covering you up.
As he’s looking at you, you notice that the situation isn’t very fair. You haven’t got any clothes on, and Harry’s still got his boxers on. Normally you wouldn't think that that’s a lot of clothing, but compared to what you have on..
Harry seems to read your mind, smirking and reaching for his boxers when you reach forward and stop him.
“Wh—” He furrows his brows at you, confused.
“Let me,” You whisper, reaching for his boxers yourself.
Harry arches his brow at you slightly, clearly not expecting for you to be so direct with him. He’s always seen you as the innocent one out of the two of you. You were never the type to sleep around or have meaningless sex the way a lot of your other friends—including him—would. Harry’s always expected for you to be the shy, innocent fuck and you’ve always been fine with it because what’s wrong with that? And you’ve never felt the need to prove yourself to anyone and he has no idea and oh you’re going to enjoy this.
You give Harry a quick kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth to make him think that you’re about to kiss him for a lot longer than you actually are. When he leans into your touch and tries to grab a hold of your waist to deepen the kiss, you pull back, breaking away. Harry tenses his jaw. You’re teasing him. It’s working.
“Red..” He murmurs your pet name as if to warn you not to go too far, to warn you not to torture him with your touch.
You look at him and smirk, sinking to your knees. His eyes follow you and his lips part in anticipation as you reach for his boxers again, your eyes still glued to his as you start to palm him through his boxers.
“Fuck,” He breathes out, his eyes widening at the feeling of your hands against him. “Oh, fuck—"
You bite your lip and reach your fingers under the hem of the fabric, slowly pulling it down. You’re agonisingly slow. Seeing Harry’s chest rise and fall at the rate it is, is only making you want to go even slower.
He’s giving you front row tickets to your favourite show.
“P—please, love,” He murmurs, cupping your cheek and running his thumb along it for a moment, “Take ‘em off for me.”
You smile up at him and nod, satisfied with his desperation. When you finally pull them down that little bit more, his cock springs free, slapping up against his stomach. He sucks in a breath as you reach forward, wrapping both of your warm hands around him.
You look up at him, flattening your tongue against his tip and licking him once. Just once.
He tastes so good that you struggle not to taste him some more.
His head tilts back against the wall and his mouth hangs open, slack as a string of dirty words fall from his lips. He’s tense.
“Relax, H,” You whisper, looking up at him innocently as you use his own words against him, “Let it happen,” You place a kiss to his tip, “Let it out,” You lick him, “Let me feel it.” You wrap your mouth around him, bobbing your head until he’s completely lost in you. Harry sucks in a breath, looking down at you with his lips parted.
“Fucking god—fuck—shit—” His eyebrows are knit together, in complete disbelief at how fucking filthy you look for him right now. Here you are, on your knees in front of him with his cock in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat over and over and over and over and over again. Harry’s never felt like this in his life. He’s never gotten head the way you’re giving it to him. He’s never felt so many things at once. He’s never been so taken back by how good someone’s making him feel. He’s never been lightheaded. Never. Not like this.
The best part? You look like there’s no place you’d rather be.
He lets out a moan, beginning to losing his mind as he tightens his grip on your head, tugging your face up so he can get a better look at you, “Fuckin—” He lets out another moan when you smirk at him and exhale, feeling the vibrations on his cock, “Y/N—love—I’m—”
You move your head up for a moment, replacing it with your hands, “I know, H,” You whisper, “It’s okay.”
His eyes screw shut and he throws his head back, groaning and moaning and whimpering all at once, “Aaah fuckin—”
You take him back into your mouth. His fingers grasp at your hair desperately, as if he’s drowning and you’re his life raft, and his hips jerk towards you, faltering as he begins to reach his limit, “Fuck,” He drops his head to look down at you, his lips parted as he pants out your name, “Yeah, fuck—Red,” He reaches down and strokes your face with his thumb, taking in the sight of you as you continue bobbing your head, “Yeah. Fucking yeaaah,” He bites his lip, another string of moans escaping his mouth all at once, “Can’t take it, fuck—”
You bob your head faster. Suck harder. Move your tongue around. Move your hands against his balls. You do everything you can. And Harry loves every second of it.
You don’t stop when you feel your throat filling with his cum, you don’t stop when he falls back against the wall from how hard his orgasm hit, you don’t stop when he tells you how good you are, how well you took him, how badly he wants to fuck you. You don’t stop until he’s cumming down your throat a second time, his legs beginning to shake from the sheer shock of it. His moans are broken, you can’t understand a single thing he’s saying to you but you know he’s saying a lot.
You pull away from him with a pop, pressing a soft kiss to his sensitive tip as he shivers under your touch. You like having the upper hand. Even if it is just for a moment.
“There you go, daddy.” You whisper, standing up and smirking at him as he tries to catch his breath.
“Say that again,” He stares at you with a hunger you’ve never seen before—from anyone—reaching his hand over to grab the back of your neck and pulling you closer to him, “Say it again. Call me that again.”
“Daddy.” You smirk and he moans, pressing his lips to yours.
“Fuck,” He whispers against your lips, holding your face in his hands and pulling you as close as he can have you, “Fuck.”
You giggle against his lips, loving the effect you have on him. It’s nice to see and feel how you make him feel, it’s oddly validating.
“Need to taste you so bad, Red,” He murmurs against your lips, desperation clear in his eyes as he searches yours for an answer, “Can I?”
“Please, yes.” You nod as he pushes you back on the bed, towering over you and reconnecting your lips within a second.
He breathes out, feeling your fingers graze his skin, tracing over the tattoos he has scattered across his arm. Your lips are back on his. He lets you take the lead, leaning into your touch and moaning into your mouth as you continue to trace his heated skin with your fingertips.
He can’t think straight. He can’t form a single, coherent thought because of your hands on his skin. The way you feel, the way you taste, the way you’re touching him.
You can’t think straight, either. It’s almost laughable—how long you’ve both wanted this. How badly you’ve both wanted to invade each other’s personal space like this. Neither of you think you can ever stop.
You grab his hand, guiding it to your chest and letting him feel you. He moans against you and pulls away for a moment to look down at you. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are parted as he palms your chest with his hands, quickly moving his mouth to cover yours as you begin to moan.
You feel Harry’s tongue grazing against yours, over and over again, deepening the kiss more and more until you’re practically inhaling each other. When you both finally break away for air, you can’t help but stare down at his body. So perfect. As confident as you are, you still can’t believe that you have someone who looks like Harry so desperate for you. Harry’s wondering how he got so lucky, too. He can’t believe that he’s able to see you in your entirety. What a privilege, he thinks.
His kisses trail down your neck first. He makes sure to suck on your skin just enough to mark it, teeth grazing the sensitive areas as you hum in response. He gets to your chest next, not wasting a second to wrap his lips around your nipple, reaching his hand over to play with your other one. His eyes close in bliss as he darts his tongue out to flick your nipple. You whimper. If this is how good—how quick—he is with his mouth—with his tongue—you can’t imagine how good he’ll feel with his head between your legs. You won’t have to imagine it. You’ll feel it soon enough.
You moan out his name and his eyes open, setting on yours as he moves to give your other nipple the same attention. His cheeks hollow as he sucks, his eyes still set on yours, his hands still all over you, his mouth moaning around your skin. You bite your lip so hard you feel it sting. You’re losing your fucking mind.
He moves his head up, your nipple still caught in his mouth as he continues to suck, letting it go with a pop. You gasp at the feeling, and he does it again. And again. And again.
He does it until you’re whining, until you’re bucking your hips up desperately to get some sort of friction.
“Patience, Red,” He chuckles at your desperation, beginning to kiss down your stomach, “I’ll make it worth the wait. Make you feel so fucking good. Promise.”
Your breath catches in your throat as you stare down at Harry’s face, his head finally where you want it—between your thighs. He looks down at you, admiring how you look all spread out for him. You feel vulnerable but you couldn’t care less. You’re so horny, so worked up, so wet that you need an outlet. You need to feel Harry against you.
“P—please—” You whisper, “Please, H.”
“Please what, Red?”
“Please.”
He smirks up at you, “You want my mouth?”
You can’t speak. You nod.
“Here?” He looks up at you innocently, pressing a kiss to your left thigh. You shake your head.
“How about here?” He kisses your right thigh. You shake your head again, bucking your hips up. He chuckles and holds you down by your waist, keeping his eyes on yours.
“You don’t want it?” He’s taunting you.
You groan, “N—no—fuck—”
“Where do you want me, then?” He arches a brow at you, not giving in easily, “Here?” He looks down at your centre and you nod your head frantically, practically whining for him.
“Ask me nicely.”
“H, please just—”
He cuts you off by pressing a kiss to your clit. Your eyes close. You moan at the feeling of his mouth finally coming into contact with your skin, where you need him the most.
Your eyes close and you arch your back to feel closer to him, feeling him smile against you already. He hooks one of his arms under your thigh, pulling you closer and getting better access to you.
He flattens his tongue against you, licking a stripe up your slit and back down again. He strokes the thigh you have slung over his shoulder with one of his hands, using the other to rub circles on your clit.
“F—fuck—Harry—” Your eyes roll back, “Daddy—"
He moans against you, and your back arches. You let out a high pitched moan, a sound you never thought you could make. You’ve only heard sounds like his in pornos before. You can’t believe what’s happening to you.
“Feel good?” Harry looks up at you, still rubbing circles on your clit and breathing against your skin. You nod.
“Say it,” He pulls away, staring at you, “Tell me how it feels.”
You struggle to move your mouth. Harry smirks.
“S—so—so fucking—mmmm—” Your mouth falls open in a gasp as Harry’s mouth is back on you, lapping at your skin. He slows down every few seconds, somehow knowing exactly how to drive you insane. You reach your hands down and grip onto his hair, tugging it back. He smirks and looks up at you, dipping his tongue inside you.
Your mouth opens and your eyebrows furrow, but no sound leaves you. You’ve never been so..so fucked up that you can’t even make a sound. Whatever Harry’s doing to you, he’s doing it well.
He starts fucking you with his tongue, his thumb still rubbing circles on your clit as you feel your stomach tighten.
“Fuck H, gonna cum—gonna—fuckin—”
“Make a mess of me, Red,” He murmurs against your skin, “Make a mess of my mouth.”
“Yeah?” You pant, propping yourself up on your elbows, “Ask me nicely, daddy.”
Harry’s eyes close momentarily at your words, and suddenly he’s just as insane as you, “God, please. Let me taste more of you. Please—fuck—please.”
That’s all you need. That’s all you fucking need.
You let go of Harry’s hand and reach for the back of his head, pushing his face against you as you come undone. He moans against you and you feel his tongue against every inch of you, taking whatever you’re giving him. He can’t get enough.
A string of curse words leave your lips, along with whimpers and moans and more of those high pitched sounds you’ve only heard in pornos. You collapse against the mattress and Harry continues slowly licking you as you lazily ride your high out on his face.
“That—” Your voice comes out strained, “T—thank you, H.”
He places a kiss to your clit and chuckles, towering over you kissing you. You taste yourself on his tongue and moan, reaching around his neck and pulling him closer. He holds one of his hands next to your head to hold himself up, cupping your cheek with the other as you both deepen the kiss.
“Did so good for me, baby,” He whispers against your lips, looking in your eyes, “So fucking good for me.”
He can’t wait another second, he’s too eager to taste more of you. He leans forward in an attempt to reconnect your lips, but you stop him by placing a finger to his mouth. His eyebrows furrow and he searches your eyes for some sort of indication that you want him to stop.
You never want to stop.
You lean your head forward, your finger still against his lips as you whisper.
“Fuck me, daddy,” You take your hand away, keeping your eyes locked on his, “Want you to fill me up.”
Harry falters for a moment, his eyes widening as he processes the words that just came out of your mouth. You said all the words that he never expected you to say, all at once. Only an hour ago, you were both smoking a joint and speaking about how much things have changed between you. How strange that made you both feel. And now? Now you’re..well.
Feeling a lot better.
“Yeah?” Harry swallows, trying to contain himself somehow even though he knows there’s no use, “Gonna let me stretch you out?”
You moan and arch your back, nodding.
“Words.” Harry’s voice is stern and you just want to ruin him. The way you’ve both been switching all night, the way you’ve been driving each other insane. He was made for you.
“Use me, H,” You whisper, your voice desperate and strained, “Stretch me out.”
And he does. He slowly dips his cock in, starting with the tip to let you adjust. You both screw your eyes shut and gasp at the feeling, moaning as he begins to move inside you.
“Fuck,” He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, feeling you wrap around him, “So fucking wet.”
You whimper, moving your hands down to his back and clawing at the skin, “Just for you, daddy.”
“Yeah? Just for me?” Harry groans at the feeling of your nails across his back, “Mine, yeah?”
He knows what you’re doing. You’re trying to what, claim him? He doesn’t know what’s going through your head, but he knows that you want to mark him up. You want to mark him up well. Well enough that it’d be impossible for him to forget how good you’re making him feel. How nobody could ever compare. Yeah, you’re claiming him.
“Yours.” You breathe out as he begins to move in and out of you.
“Say it again, Red.” His voice is desperate, like he needs you to repeat yourself more than anything. He starts to speed up his movements, eager to feel as much of you as possible. You feel him hit your most sensitive spot.
“Fuck—”
“Say you’re mine,” He won’t stop asking until you give him what he wants, “Go on, say it.”
“I’m—fuck—I’m yours, H.” You gasp as he grabs a hold of one of your legs, throwing it over his shoulder to fuck into you deeper. He’s being relentless. He’s ruining you.
You want him to ruin you more.
He’s sticking two of his fingers down your throat, watching you as you suck and moan around them, “Again.” He takes his fingers out from your mouth, moving them down to rub your clit.
“I’m yours,” You let out a strained moan, your mouth falling open, “Are you mine?”
Harry’s movements are even faster now. You’re impressed. So fucking impressed at how he’s carrying himself. He’s picked up the pace, he’s circling your clit, he’s holding one of your legs above his shoulder and he’s driving you fucking crazy.
He lets your leg back down, spreading your thighs apart as he slightly changes position. He’s still on top of you but at a different angle. He towers over you, not slowing down—he wouldn’t dream of it—and moving his lips to your ear.
“Been yours for months,” He murmurs against your skin, making your eyes close, “Was just—” He grunts, “—was just waiting for you to notice.”
You can’t speak. You can’t form a single word. Your fingers grip his sides, your nails digging deeper into his skin until he bleeds.
“Shit,” He buries his head into the crook of your neck, teeth grazing your skin, “Oh fucking yeah.” Every sound that leaves his mouth is better than the last. You hear every moan, every gasp, every whimper leaving his lips.
He slows down his thrusts, making them harder and rougher and deeper. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel him repeatedly hitting the best part of you.
“Right there—fuck—right there—!” Your voice suddenly raises and you’re practically screaming at Harry as he continues to fuck into you, his hand still circling your clit. You let out a string of moans as he moves his hand up from your cunt to your stomach, pushing down. Your eyes close at the feeling..until it stops.
You feel a hand come into contact with your jaw, grabbing it roughly and making your eyes open. You look up to see Harry staring down at you with his jaw tensed. He’s still inside you but he isn’t moving. You want him to move.
“Open,” Harry’s voice is stern as he lightly taps the side of your face, “I’m not going to tell you again.”
You nod and bite down on your lip, enjoying this side of him more than you could’ve ever imagined. He can be so caring, so good, and so fucking condescending.
You love it all. You want it all. You need it all.
He begins to move again, his own eyes closing for a split second before he catches himself and sets them back on yours. You furrow your brows, trying to control the moans leaving your lips as his thrusts grow faster and harder again. His hand drops from your face back down to your stomach, where it was before.
“See that, baby?” He applies pressure to your lower stomach, where you look to see the outline of where he’s penetrating you, “So deep.”
You whimper and you can feel tears pricking in your eyes from how fucking euphoric you feel. You never thought it was possible to feel so much at once.
Your back arches as his hips meet yours, slamming into you. Harry drops his head to your shoulder, letting himself feel everything he’s ever wanted to feel.
“Cum with me, Red. Cum all over my cock,” He groans, his lips brushing against your skin, “I belong to you.”
You smile, digging your nails deeper into his back, “You belong to me.”
Harry’s voice is something between a mumble and a moan at this point, an endless stream of curse words falling from his lips as he feels you clenching around him.
You both cum at the same time, moaning so loudly that neither of you would be surprised if you woke up without voices tomorrow morning or with a noise complaint from your neighbours. Or both.
He practically collapses on top of you, shifting to the side and falling on his back. You both pant, trying to catch your breath as you stare up at the plain beige ceiling above your heads.
“That was..” You trail off, struggling to find words as your chest heaves.
“Yeah.” Harry’s in the same boat, knowing exactly what you mean.
“Friends do that?”
Harry laughs. He really laughs. Like he hasn’t laughed in years. Claps his hands together, covers his mouth even though there’s no use. You laugh with him.
After a few minutes, Harry moves to stand up from the bed. You smile at yourself when you notice that he’s walking over to your side of the bed. The view isn’t bad either.
He holds his hand out to you and you grab it, standing up with his help. You both smile at each other and share a quick, soft kiss before making your way to the bathroom. Harry gets the shower ready and you both step under the water, closing your eyes and holding each other close for a few moments.
“I belong to you.” Harry murmurs against your hair, pressing a kiss to your head. You pull away just enough to look at him.
“I belong to you, too.” You smile. He smiles back, widely.
“We’ll see where this goes?” He asks, his dimples still on display from how wide he’s grinning. You lean forward and try to kiss him, feeling each other’s teeth from how hard you’re both smiling.
You giggle against his lips, looking up at him with adoration, “We’ll see where this goes, H.”
•••
aaand there we have it whores. i LOVED writing this one, it’s probably the most in-your-face smut i’ve written to date. hope it was worth the wait <3
lmk what you think. if you liked it please reblog and comment, i love seeing y’all interact w my stuff <3
my suggestions are open. if you have any ideas for shots or even fics, multiple part stories, one shots, blurbs, lmk. you never know, i might write ab your idea next.
as always, stay safe n be kind to yourselves. i’ll see you sooner than you think.
- k
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justlemmeadoreyou · 7 months
Note
Could you maybe write a fluffy piece, where H is taking care of pregnant reader?
sure, love! here it is!
Baby
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boyfriend!harry taking care of pregnant!reader
word count: 731
masterlist || my ask <3 (requests are open!)
. . .
Harry had always wanted to be a father. He dreamed of the day he could take care of his own little family with all the love in his heart.
When he found out that you were pregnant, he couldn't have been more thrilled.  He was so grateful that he had been given the chance to be a father and he was determined to be the best one he could be, no matter whatever it took.
He went out of his way to make sure you were taken care of and comfortable. He filled your home with cozy blankets, cushions, and pillows to make sure you were as comfortable as possible. He cooked your meals, ran errands, and even rubbed your feet and back when you were too exhausted, and they got swollen and ached. He made sure you stayed hydrated, and even got up in the middle of the night to get you whatever you were craving.
Whenever you felt down or scared about the pregnancy, H was there to provide emotional support. He was always there to listen and offer words of encouragement and love. He also made sure that she knew she was in good hands, no matter what happened.
He was so excited for the arrival of their little bundle of joy. He couldn't wait to be a father and see the two of you become a family. He was in awe of your strength and courage throughout the entire pregnancy and knew that it was all worth it in the end.
Harry watched you lovingly as you slept peacefully in your bed. He wanted to let you rest, but he couldn't help himself; he wanted to be near you. The thought of you carrying his child filled him with joy and he couldn't help but feel protective of both you and his little bubba inside you.
You were almost 18 weeks in, and the baby had started to show movements. He was so excited to feel the baby kick, so he just couldn’t resist walking over to your sleeping form and rubbing his hands soothingly over your belly.
He rested his head on your stomach, talking to your baby. He was talking slowly, almost whispering, but you were a light sleeper, so you woke up.
“My cutest bubba is inside there, aren’t you. I love you so so much, you have no idea” he said, and you put a hand on his head, to gently massage his scalp. He took so much care of you, not wanting you to feel any strain or stress. He deserved the same love too.
“I just can’t wait to meet the baby. To hold it, and kiss all over its face. To see its little belly and kiss it too, and the little hands and lets, oh my gosh!” his eyes were watery, he just couldn’t believe he had so much love inside him for a baby that hadn’t been born, it almost hurt.
“I know, Harry. I can’t wait to meet our little bean too. Just hold it, and feed it, and take care. To make it wear all those little clothes and massage its little body with the baby oil. I am so in love with our baby.” 
“I know, sweetie. I love it too. More than you, I think” you snorted a laugh, and the baby kicked.
“Oh my gosh! Harry!” Both you and Harry had your hands on your belly, so you both felt the beautiful moment.
“The baby kicked!” He got up and hugged you. He put his hands under your waist and picked you up, swirling you around.
“Harry! Harry! Put me down!”
“Yeah! Shit, I’m sorry”
He put you back down on the bed, and you both started to laugh.
“I can’t believe I felt the first kick.”
“Me too. Also, how did you pick me up so easily?”
“Well, I’ve been working out, you know? Lifting those weights”
“Mmm, I definitely need to see you working out one day” you flirted, sliding a hand across his chest.
“Oh really? And what will you do after that?”
“Then, I may have a problem only you can take care of.”
“Come here” he pulled you close, kissing you gently.
. . .
image credit goes to the owner!
taglist:
message me/ dm me/ comment below if you want to be removed/added!!!
@freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrlrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite
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mixedstyles · 2 years
Text
Instagram Blurb
Author's Note: There is no use of y/n or an OC first name. The only name I made up is the name of her band, which is Queen Fire. @queenfire on all of the fake social media accounts. Dividers throughout the story are made by @firefly-graphics. Let me know what you think of this blurb, enjoy!
Faceclaim is the singer/songwriter DYLAN
My Writing | feel free to send asks and recommendations!
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Liked by conangray, phoebebridgers and 13,457 others
queenfire My new single “You’re Not Harry Styles” is coming out in 5 days!! Reminder to not let anyone treat you like shit, especially if they’re not Harry Styles. Link to pre-save the song is in my bio!
fan01 an absolute i c o n
qffannn okay but like… i wish i was harry styles 😭
↳ fannn i just want his brand deal with Gucci
fan03 @harrystyles please tell me you’re gonna listen
↳ queenfire He’s too famous for me, he’ll never see this. Which is one of the reasons why I used his name 👀
harryfan you’re just using his name for more pre-saves of this song. it’s probably not even good
↳ queenfire And? 🤍
harry_lambert Love the suit 🤍
↳ harryfan02 HARRY LAMBERT??
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Liked by novoamor, saminatheband and 8,539 others
queenfire Four friends for four more days!!! Pre-save You're Not Harry Styles
QFandom I want to date YOU, not Harry Styles
↳ youuuser That’s what I’m saying 😭
user07 PLEASE GET OFF MY INSTAGRAM RECOMMENDATIONS
_basselin Are you counting yourself as a friend?
↳ queenfire It sounded better than “four people” okay 😭
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Twitter
queenfire Let’s all count down together, how many more days? 👀 5.6k Retweets 428 Quote Tweets 10.8k Likes
↳ user3 THREE. ↳ user5 3 days!!! which is still too far away
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Instagram
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Liked by _basselin, arloparks, and 10,502 others
queenfire Two thumbs up for two more days.
_basselin is it weird that i pre-saved a song about the guy a work for?
↳ queenfire please don't tell him
↳ _basselin I will not say anything for the sake of our friendship
nothingcreative She’s so cute 🥺
userfan Why does this make me wanna be her friend???
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Liked by yasmine_sahid, anothonypham, and 12,947 others
queenfire One! More! Day! Then my song will be fully out in the world. Thank you to everyone for all of the pre-saves, I truly can’t say describe what your support means to me. I’m so thankful for the love I’ve been getting. 🤍
user20 I’m fucking in love with her guitar omfg
user5 i swear you’re always on my fyp. Instagram is making it more like a “fuck you” page. please get off of it.
↳ fandomnews ur interacting with her so of course she’s gonna keep showing up 😭
queenofmylife My summer anthem
livelaughliedown FUCK TOXIC EXES
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Tiktok
79.6k likes 1793 comments
queenfire YOU’RE NOT HARRY STYLES IS OUT NOW!!! Thank you for all the love and support 🤍
usernumbertwo “Running around with your god complex” literally my ex 🙄
user7 @/harrystyles
harryuser65 @/harrystyles
harryswhore @/harrystyles
harryuser5 Will y’all STOP tagging him. You really think he runs that tiktok account 🙄
harrystyles But what if I am Harry Styles? Liked by creator
↳ harryuser5 I stand corrected
↳ queenfire (creator) NOO HJFGBO PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE JUST THE SOCIAL MEDIA INTERN
phhrrystyles Did Harry Styles just watch a video of her straight up saying she wishes she was dating him? 💀
↳ queenfire (creator) I hope to god it’s not actually him
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Instagram
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3,789 likes
QueenFireUpdates @/queenfire via her Instagram story
xoxo_harrygirl Why is she mad?
↳ xharryx I don’t think she’s mad, I think she’s in shock
↳ fan10 Bitch, I’d be in shock too. She looks so much more put together than I’d be 🫢
harrysgemini LIVING OUT THAT Y/N LIFE
fan09 she deserves it 🤍
user00 the song is kind of shit
↳ biggestQFfan you’re really coming on a fan page of her and saying that bs? you think that’s gonna go over well?
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4,567 likes
HarryUpdates I know this is a Harry account, and this isn’t Harry, but I wanted to include this as an update. Yesterday the singer Queen Fire posted a video on tiktok announcing the release of her new song called “You’re Not Harry Styles”. Harry ended up commenting on the video and people are speculating many things. That it’s a publicity stunt, that it’s not actually him, that they know each other etc… I just wanted to add it here. This was via Conan Gray’s Instagram story.
user01 She’s really milking this
↳ queenlove Have Harry Styles listen to the song you wrote about him and then come back and tell me you wouldn’t do the same thing
harryfan4 I swear this whole thing is just a publicity stunt
↳ harryfan7 even if it is, it's kind of enjoyable to watch
harrystyles followed you
harrystyles sent you a message
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daaydreamy · 1 year
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lipstick
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summary: harry gets marked up everywhere.
warnings: coarse language, smut, f/f/m threesome, handjob, edging
pairing: fem!oc x harry styles x fem!reader
•••
“You’re so cute.”
Harry was gasping and fucking up into Y/N’s hand, feeling her lips and her friend’s pressing against his skin over and over. His head was thrown back and his cheeks were so prettily pink, Y/N couldn’t help but press a kiss to one of them. The way his body would react to their touch was so mesmerizing, so addictive, and they wanted to toy with him for hours non-stop.
They had been edging him for quite a while now, chuckling softly whenever he would whine and plead for more and to let him come. It was so fun watching him grow more and more desperate as the time ticked by, adoring his soft and stuttery ‘please’s’ and ‘oh’s’. There were so many kiss marks all over his skin now, in two different shades. One was Y/N’s and one was her friend’s, or who everyone called Evangeline. He was like goo, so malleable, all melted from their touch.
“Please?” He said breathily. He wasn’t even sure what he was asking for at that point, his brain all messed up. He looked so pretty while he was all fucked out, pupils blown wide and lips so kissable they were irresistable.
“Beg.”
“Please.” He whined, Y/N smiled so bright. “Please let me come. I’ll- I’ll be so good.” He pleaded desperately, “I promise.” He then added on.
“You promise?” Evangeline chuckled softly, slowly inching her hand closer and closer to Harry’s neglected cock, which was pitifully leaking and throbbing against his stomach. He nodded with a quiet ‘yes’ and she hummed, gently running the tip of her nail along the length of his cock, making him whimper from the barely enough stimulation. Y/N’s own fingers were toying with his sensitive nipples, pinching and tugging gently.
“You think you deserve it?” Y/N asked, lightly digging her thumbnail into his nipple and his cock jerked, more precum spilling from his tip while he let out a small whine.
“Yes, yes, please? I’ve been so good.” He said, his voice slowly fading once Evangeline finally wrapped her hand around his cock, a soft and relieved sigh slipping past his lips.
a/n: who’s evangeline?
🏷: @crow-i-guess, @planetflos, @harrycanyonmoonn, @bxtchboy69, @sweet-as-lilacs, @lyricalniall, @venusincleo (couldn’t tag you!), @bxbun111, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @emispleased, @goldenhrry, @cinnamongirlrry, @manifestrry, @niallhoranshotgf, @sad1esgf, @taylorsreputationsversion, @violetsandfluff, @purplefishingline, @a-strange-familiar, @moonlightbea-33 (couldn’t tag you!), @famedrs-blog, @coochiesteak, @blahblahblah-888 (couldn’t tag you!), @milesisntdonewritingyet, @cherrycoucou18 (couldn’t tag you!), @alexxavicry, @harrysgoth, @theroosterswife24, @cinnamonlola, @youcan-nolonger-run
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Text
LATE NIGHT TALKING
@harrysfolklore posted a wonderful insta!au series of babysitter!yn. I am absolutely in love with it and decided to write a fic based on it. Please read her fic and show it some love!
Warnings: none! Its pure fluff <3
A.N: its been so long since I posted and I apologize. Life's been a bitch. It was overwhelming but I managed to write this short fic. Hope you guys enjoy it!
(English isnt my first language. Please pardon any grammatical/spelling mistakes. Gifs not mine. Divider by @firefly-graphics)
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Standing in the bustling crowd, jumping to beats of "Cherry", you were sure you reached the pinnacle point of your life. Taking the job offer to babysit your cousins kid was perhaps the best thing you did. It brought you closer to your cousin and her husband, and also introduced you to one of the sweetest person on the planet. Harry freaking Styles. 
You felt your heart warm up immensely as you saw him singing his heart out. You bobbed your head to the music and let yourself free. Harry always made you comfortable. The way he looked at you, eyes filled with utmost adoration, you were sure you'd never felt so valued before.
After the last act, you pushed your way backstage and threw yourself at him, not caring for how sweaty he was.
"You were amazing, darling." You whispered as you laced your arms around his neck. He smiled down at you and nuzzled his face into the crook of you neck. He let out a content sigh, completely relaxing in your arms. The two of you stayed in each others embrace until someone coughed from behind you and whisked Harry away to the dressing room. 
You, too, hopped into your private changing room and changed into a more comfortable outfit and met Harry by the black SUV where he was talking to Sarah and Mitch. Sarah hugged you tightly and thanked you profusely for being there for her and her son. Mitch joined in on the hug and made sure to let you know just how much they appreciated you.
You smiled shyly and waved off their compliments. Harry looked at you lovingly and snuck an arm around your waist. Sarah smirked at Harry and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Well, we don't wanna keep the two lovebirds waiting!" She squealed before walking off with Mitch. 
You leaned further into Harry and rested your head on his shoulder. He hummed at the action and guided you into the car that awaited you. 
Once inside, Harry turned om the car and started driving. 
"You know, I've been working on a few songs." He looked at you sideways.
"Mhm!" You replied. You had seen him scribble away words on random peices of papers constantly. 
"Well, a few are dedicated to you. And I was wondering if you would want to listen to a rough draft of one?" He asked hopefully.
"Oh my!" Was all you could muster out. Dating the superlovable-dork of a Rockstar was one thing. But him writing songs about you? You were pretty sure your internal system had shut down.
"Love? Are you alright?" Harry asked, worried.
"No!! Um.. I mean, I'm fine. I..." 
"Its okay. You don't have to listen to it. Its fine."
"No, Harry. I want to. I was just shocked that you'd even consider me as a muse."
"Well, we have been dating for a while and I'm pretty sure you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You complete me, love. In the best possible way."
"Oh, Harry" you exclaimed and kissed his cheek. He smiled happily and pressed play on the stereo.
"Things haven't been quite the same There's a haze on the horizon, babe It's only been a couple of days And I miss you, mm, yeah"
There wasn't any music. It was basically Harry humming the words, accompanied by the sound of ruffling of papers. You closed your eyes and let yourself melt into his voice. As the song came to an end, you looked over at him. He had stopped the car and was looking intently at you.
"We've been doin' all this late night talkin' 'Bout anythin' you want until the mornin' Now you're in my life I can't get you off my mind"
You were awestruck. A million emotions flooded you and all you could do was cry happy tears. Harry hugged you tightly.
"I love it so much. Its... overwhelming."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief and kissed you lovingly. You placed you hands on his cheek and deepened te kiss, coming apart to catch your breath. Harry looked into your eyes lovingly.
A security guard knocked on the window, causing you guys to jump apart. Harry scowled at the man before getting out of the car and leading you into the main halls of the local art gallery. You loved art and were waiting to get a chance to visit this one. You looked over in surprise and Harry simple smiled, nervously. He led you into the main hall which had an immaculate painting of two interlaced swans.
Gulping lightly, Harry turned towards you. 
"The song I played before? I mean every word of it, babe. I'd follow you to the ends of the world, without blinking an eye. Everyday I constantly find myself doing stuff to see you smile. Its the most precious thing in the world. I'll help you through all the highs and lows of your life if you'd let me. Would you, the love of my life, make me the most damn luckiest man in the world and marry me?" He bent down on one knee and opened a small black velvet box, with the most beautiful ring you'd ever seen.
You were ecstatic at the act. Your mind went on overdrive and you found yourself imagining a life with Harry as your husband. You nodded excitedly, unable to form coherent words, tears streaming down your face. Harry slipped the ring into your finger and kissed you passionately. Pulling apart, you saw tears in his eyes.
"Here's to more late night takings"
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451 notes · View notes
fanficbarbie · 3 months
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❝karma❞ faceclaims
main characters
Rowan Bouvier
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Harry Styles
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Audrey Koch
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D.Q. (Dallas-Quinn) Vanderbilt
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Olivia Astor
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Kiernan Tate
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side characters
William Serrano
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Gabrielle Carr
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Liberty Washington
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15 notes · View notes
harrystylescherry · 1 year
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A/N: i am finally back from the pits of...my life, where all i do is work and complete grad school homework. i have like 15 fics started but not finished--but this one got done in 2 days!! look, girls (me) just wanna have fun (erotic fantasies) okay? thanks
*warning: spanking/paddling, mild pain
what this is: pure smut tbh
word count: 7.1k
let me know what you think :)
MASTERLIST
“Come,” Harry’s voice was low, demanding, as he sat on the edge of the bed with his hands gripping the end of the mattress.
Your insides melted and heat spread between your thighs–but you weren’t in the mood to play the part of the submissive today. Although your boyfriend would argue that it wasn’t a part you were playing at all, but who you were deep down. And you hated that he was right. Because underneath your frustration was the need for him to not be upset with you, to please him, to ask for forgiveness.
But you had had a shitty day, one filled with pointless meetings that kept you from doing the work you were actually hired to do, and then got chewed out by your boss for not having met a deadline–one she told you not to worry about in favor of attending those stupid meetings. So you had worked late, hammering out a piece on the benefits of vitamin C, which was really just a regurgitation of all the other info that existed on the internet.
Harry had tried to comfort you, to rub your shoulders as you typed as fast as you could, sighs slipping so fast from your lips it sounded like a single, never ending sound. It was when he suggested, or more-like commanded, that you take a break and eat something that you snapped at him. At the time, you hadn’t really been thinking of the consequences. Especially since he brushed it off with a light squeeze of the back of your neck.
After you sent off the piece (along with a very fake but very polite apology to your manager about missing the deadline), you slapped your laptop shut and finally took a seat across from him at the table.
You didn’t even acknowledge him as you dug into the pasta he had made, realizing for the first time that you hadn’t eaten since ten that morning, despite working from his home office. You were wound tight, your shoulders still tense even after Harry had attempted to relieve some pressure.
“You really need to quit.” He said, his eyes on you.
“I know,” you sighed. You didn’t want to have this conversation with him again. It happened once a week. He just didn’t get it–he was older (only by a few years, teetering on the edge of his twenties) and was already established, already successful. He was already a partner at an ad firm, already proved he was worth something. You, on the other hand, were a struggling journalist who wanted into the music industry–but freelance was hard and you needed money. This job paid a lot. Probably because they needed to make up for the fact that the company itself was a shit show. But it was fine–and you were applying. You were trying to quit, but you needed a net. And Harry didn’t understand that.
“You work ridiculous hours and your boss is insane.”
“I know.”
“It’s killing you, and–”
“Jesus Christ, I know,” you snapped. “Do you really think I don’t know? I hate my fucking job, but I need it, okay? And no, you can’t help me so I can quit and not have to worry while finding something new. I don’t need you to take care of me. So stop.”
His shock morphed into irritation. “That’s strike two.” His voice was hard. “And only because I know you’re having a bad day, and that you didn’t mean it.”
“And what if I did,” you mumbled as you moved your food around your plate.
Harry exhaled sharply through his nose and stood up from the table. “Finish eating. Then we’ll talk.” It wasn’t a request. On his way to the sink, he dropped a hand into your hair and scratched softly. “I’ll be in my office.”
Even in a shit mood, Harry in Dom mode was hot. This wasn’t something new to either of you, but you two weren’t very hardcore either–no whips or masks, or gags. You were more of a bondage and mild pain kind of girl and Harry respected that, though he did sometimes push your limits.
When you two were out in the world–on dates, at parties, with family or friends–the dynamic was normal, but in the evenings, after you were both home from work, and over the weekends he got to order you around, punish you and take you however and wherever he wanted. So, really, you should probably apologize before you got yourself in trouble.
You weren’t in the mood to give up control tonight, not entirely. You didn’t even think you could if you wanted to. The stress was at an all time high and you were gripping tight to whatever control you had, since at work lately, it felt like you had none; at the whim of everyone you worked under. The late nights, the Teams messages at random hours of the day–your control was slipping in a way you didn’t like. There was no way you could give up whatever semblance of it you had left.
It seemed your boyfriend knew that, and was giving you opportunities to relax in a way he didn’t do very often–ever, actually, up until a few weeks ago when you started shutting down from stress. Instead of bending you over his knee or edging you until you were close to tears, he’d let the disobedience slide and curl you into his lap or side instead. Still, he’d demand you tell him how you felt, talk through your stress and frustration, refusing to let you disrupt the free flowing communication that needed to exist between the two of you, or keep yourself closed off from him.
Opening up to him wasn’t hard. It never was, and it’s what made him the perfect Dom for you. That and he was really fucking hot, lean but strong. And the way he looked in a suit? Jesus.
Your muscles clenched at the thought.
You finished your plate and drank the rest of your wine. After dumping your plate in the sink and refilling your glass, you made your way up the stairs and down the hallway where Harry’s office was. You paused to the right of the doorway and took a deep breath. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t want to talk. It wouldn’t do any good. Why couldn’t he just let you stew and drink. Why did he have to know everything?
Something inside you flared. That was bad. Anger wasn’t good–anger meant a biting remark that would surely get you in trouble. You took a long sip of wine and another deep breath before relaxing your shoulders and walking into the room.
Harry was sitting at his desk, typing away on his laptop. He had cleaned up all your work stuff from the day, piled your notebooks neatly on top of your laptop, recapped all your pens and fastened them back into their case.
You stood next to him, and he didn’t even look at you. You tried not to tap your foot or sigh with impatience, but it was hard.
“Plan on behaving now?” He asked with his eyes still on the screen.
You bit your tongue and counted to three. “Yes.”
He raised his eyebrow and peeked over at you.
You swallowed the annoyed sigh. “Yes, sir.” You ignored the way your cheeks flared when you said it.
“Better,” he said before going back to the document on his screen.
Oh my god. Couldn’t you two just get this over with so you could take a bath and go to sleep? The thought of having to wake up and work tomorrow made your jaw clench. You closed your eyes and told yourself it was fine.
But it wasn’t fine. You were miserable and so stressed out that you woke up every morning with a sore jaw. The anxiety bundled in the pit of your stomach before making its way up your throat. The thought of logging in tomorrow, being met with at least seventy emails and your submitted draft hacked up by your manager–who had never written a thing in her life, by the way–made your cheeks burn and chest clench.
If Harry noticed, he didn’t seem to care. He didn’t tell you to sit down or go to sleep or…literally anything. The anxiety morphed itself back into frustration as you just stood there, waiting.
He pulled his hands from his keyboard and rubbed them over his face before motioning to you. You took a step closer and he pushed the chair back slightly and pulled you to stand between his legs. Harry took the glass from your hands and put it on the desk. He planted his hands firmly on your hips and squeezed until it was almost painful.
A rush moved through you.
He dropped his head against the spot right under your chest and kissed over the t-shirt you wore. Before you could drop a hand into his hair, he stood up.
He walked towards the small love seat that sat next to the tall bookshelves and pulled you after him. You worked hard not to shuffle your feet.
Harry sat down and pulled you into his lap with ease. “Talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” You were met with narrowed eyes and a stern look. You crossed your arms protectively over your chest and his eyes narrowed even more. When you wouldn’t relent, Harry squeezed one of your thighs harshly. You jumped and resented the heat that returned below. You dropped your hands into your lap and Harry’s big hand fell over them. Holding them here.
“Try again.”
You stretched your neck, trying to expel some of the frustration and anxiety you felt. You didn’t want to talk about it. Why did you always have to talk about it? Maybe if you just apologized, it would be fine and he’d let it go. Maybe. Hopefully.
“I’m sorry, sir.” You morphed your face into something that you hoped looked sincere and sorry. Even though you weren’t. At least, you weren’t sorry [enough]. You didn’t want to upset him, ever. You wanted his praise, for him to be proud of you–but there was only so much succumbing to power a girl could take. You were taking it enough at work. Succumbing at home wasn’t as easy these last few weeks. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. You shouldn’t be lying to me either.”
“I’m not–” Another harsh squeeze to your thigh. When you saw the disapproving look on his face, a part of you yearned to fix it. And you fought that part of you away. Keep your control.
“We don’t lie, love.” The softness seeped back into his voice. “If you’re going to apologize, you’re going to mean it.”
You raised your eyes to his, a rip of fire going through you. You didn’t want to apologize to him–not when he started it. You had dolled out enough apologies for one day–to your manager, mostly, after taking the blame and fixing problems she created. “Well, then I guess I’m not apologizing.” A pause. “Sir.”
Harry clicked his tongue in disapproval and gave a laugh devoid of any humor. “Strike three, then.”
You rolled your eyes and he caught your chin between his fingers roughly. “You and your fucking attitude lately. I’ve been patient.” His eyes darkened. “Not anymore.”
He put you on your feet and tugged your hair before walking wordlessly out of the room.
You knew you were supposed to follow him, that he [expected] you to follow him–a shiver ran down your spine. The urge to follow him, to relinquish your control started to consume you and you fought it.
If you don’t go, it’ll be worse. If he has to call your name, the punishment will be worse.
You squeezed your eyes shut cursing yourself for being stupid, for forgetting your restraint; for thinking that Harry would allow you a little power, that you could hold onto it.
By the look in his eye and the tone of his voice, he hadn’t been joking. His patience was spent and you were in for it.
Your thighs clenched at the thought and a little apprehension mixed with the thread of thrill that laced through your stomach. He wouldn’t be too harsh, would he? It had been a while. A few weeks at the least–maybe even two months since you had been punished, since things had hurt just a little more than they pleasured.
You realized you were still standing in the middle of the office and hurried after him down the hallway, not wanting to give him another reason.
His back was to you when you stepped into the room and he was taking off his tie in front of the mirror. “Strip,” he ordered.
The deepness of his voice was welcome, though your nerves spiked just a little.
You pushed your jeans down your legs and slipped off your t-shirt. Then, your bra and panties. When he turned, his gaze was disapproving and your heart sank.
“I don’t remember giving you permission to look at me,” he said as he rolled up his sleeves.
You dropped your eyes immediately. Christ, he was serious. You were in more trouble than you had been in in ages.
“Turn around and bend over. Hands around your ankles.”
Your face heated. Immediately, you did as you were told and chastised yourself. So much for keeping a semblance of control.
“What’s your safe word?”You heard him open the wardrobe in the corner of the room and then rummaging.
“Red,” you said, your uneasiness evident. His movements paused. “Red, sir.”
You heard him hum, satisfied. “Good.”
Your heart rate increased as his footsteps grew closer and you heard him tap something against his leg. You peeked around your legs and your breath caught.
“It’s been awhile so here’s a reminder: the safe word is only to be used if absolutely necessary; when you physically or mentally can’t take it anymore. Not because you’re nervous or scared. Not simply because it hurts. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” You made sure not to forget that time. His taking a moment to clarify left you shaking slightly. If he noticed, he didn’t comment. He didn’t try to assuage your nerves either.
He held the crop at his side while he ran a hand over your ass. “Soft,” he said, his voice anything but. The crop smoothed over your ass before tapping lightly against your skin. When he brushed it over your exposed pussy, you forced yourself to hold back a whimper. “I’ve been nice. More than nice. And you’ve taken advantage.”
The crop came down on your ass and you flinched. It was only a sting–one that morphed into pleasure quickly.
“I’ve been patient, letting you speak to me in a way that would usually have you bent over the table in less than a second.”
It came down on the other cheek, harder. You released a small sigh at the sensation.
“It’s my fault really, for encouraging it. For letting you get away with it.” His voice told you that he didn’t really believe that. “Or maybe it’s your fault for continuing the behavior, knowing I would disapprove, knowing you were being disobedient and doing it anyway.”
The clear disapproval in his voice made your chest ache and cheeks heat in embarrassment.
Another swat to your ass–and then another, quick on the other cheek. Hard. Your body scooted forward involuntarily and you whimpered. Harry grabbed you and held you in place. “Don’t move.” The growl in his voice sent heat straight to your core.
“This fight for control, it needs to stop. I don’t know where it’s come from because you refuse to talk–another rule broken–but it’s got to end. You need to understand your place, sub.”
Your cheeks flamed. He hadn’t called you that since the early days of your relationship when you tested his boundaries, when the two of you were still getting used to one another and your dynamic. You didn’t like the typical nicknames like pet, or kitten. They made you feel inhuman and a little gross, so Harry tended to call you ‘love’ even when he was angry, when you did something wrong, or were being punished. It was never about what he said, but the way he said it–the fact that he had pulled that out meant you were absolutely fucked.
He swatted your ass a few times in succession, giving you no time to recover between. The stinging sent shocks straight to your clit. You knew you were wet. You could feel it drip through your folds.
“I won’t stand for the disrespect any longer. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Your voice wavered. You wondered if his approval showed on his face, but you were still folded over.
His fingers grazed over the sensitive skin of your ass and you inhaled. They trailed down between your cheeks and circled your clit once. You moaned. His fingers moved up and he pushed one slowly inside of you. Pleasure always came after the punishment–so was it over? Was that it? That was nothing, thank–
“Seems you’re enjoying this a little too much, huh, sub? Not much of a punishment if you’re soaked but not begging. Right?”
You took a deep, shaky breath.
“Ah!” You shrieked when the crop made contact with the sensitive spot where your ass met your thighs.
“When I ask you a question, you answer.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Stand up.”
When you stood, all the blood rushed back down from your head and you stumbled. Harry caught you easily with a hand on your arm. Once you recovered, he dropped his hand.
“On the bed on your stomach. Ass up, knees apart.”
You kept your eyes down and didn’t move. Nerves filled your chest. It had been so long.
Harry stepped in front of you and tilted your chin up towards him, but you kept your eyes down, not wanting to disobey again.
“Look at me.” When you lifted your eyes, there was a slight smile pulling at his cheek. Approval. Your shoulders relaxed and a small amount of pride swelled in you. “Good girl.” He brushed his thumb over your lips. “It’s gonna hurt. It’s a punishment. You remember those, right?”
“Yes, sir,” you whispered.
The warmth in his eyes returned for a moment and he brushed his knuckles over your cheek. He dropped his hand. “Get on the bed, sub.”
The check-in was over and your all demanding dom was back.
While you got situated on the bed, Harry returned to the wardrobe. You couldn’t see what he was getting, but what you heard lit your nerves on fire. It wasn’t the jingling of the restraints, but his knuckles against the paddle that sent your heart into your throat.
You liked mild pain. Last time he used the paddle, it was a little more than mild. The last time–your skin paled when you remembered. The last time he had used it was during a punishment.
“Hands above your head,” He said as he made his way to stand to the side of the bed.
Your heart was beating so hard you could feel it reverberating off your ribcage, but you obeyed–slowly. He took cuffs from the bedside table and secured them onto your wrists. The coolness of the leather sent a reminder of want straight down to the spot between your thighs. Harry’s fingers brushed over yours unintentionally as he attached the cuffs to one another, and then to one of the restraints attached to the headboard, and you stopped yourself from reaching for him.
Roughly, he pulled you back by your hips until you couldn’t move your arms from where they were above you. Silently, he looped similar cuffs around your ankles and attached them to the restraints at each corner of the bed. There was nowhere for you to go.
In a small moment of panic, you attempted to tug at the restraint keeping your hands above your head, and felt the heat of fear in your cheeks. When Harry heard your small whimper, he came to the side of the bed, placed one big hand over your cuffed wrists and the other on the small of your back, warm and reassuring. Immediately, you felt your heart rate slow.
“Relax. It’s okay.” He paused while you took a deep breath, but your face was still hot. “Do you trust me?” He asked with a voice full of caring.
Of course you did. Harry wouldn’t ever give you more than he knew you could handle; he would never actually make you feel unsafe, or the kind of fear that wasn’t linked to pleasure and excitement.
Speaking of which, as he rubbed the spot on your back, you felt the heat pool at your core.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.” He smiled before disappearing from your view.
From somewhere behind you, he knocked his knuckles on the paddle once more, almost as a warning.
When it came down the first time, it was nothing more than a sting–one that, you admitted, you quite liked. The next few continued like that, the stings turning into a warmth that had you on the verge of moaning.
Once you finally let one slip, the next spank came down harder. You flinched and sucked in a breath each time it came down.
“Does that hurt?”
You whimpered in response.
You attempted to move forward, away from the paddle, when it came down even harder across both of your cheeks.
“Does that hurt, sub?” His voice was low, hard.
“Y-yes, sir.”
“Do you like being punished?”
“No, sir.”
Your ass stung--a burning kind of sting that would have you wincing until tomorrow. And yet, you felt your arousal drip down your leg.
Suddenly, Harry’s fingers were at your core, swirling in the slickness that coated your folds.
“Lying again, are we?”
“No, sir.” And you weren’t lying. You didn’t like being punished, who did? It wasn’t your fault that your body enjoyed the pain, the stinging.
He sighed. “I was going to be nice and only go for ten more, but bad girls don’t get ‘nice’.” He swiped his thumb over your clit and you moaned. When he pulled his hand away, you tried to push yourself towards him, but the goddamned restraints wouldn’t allow it.
“Ah!” You cried when the paddle came down so hard that it more than stung. The pain thudded through your muscles. Twenty of that? The worry prickled over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The harsh pain faded, leaving a stinging that you could handle.
“Count them.”
Whack
“One.”
Another.
“Two.”
Another.
You whimpered. “Three.”
By ten, your voice was shaking and your eyes had begun to water. He wasn’t feeling very accommodating anymore, which was fair considering how far you had pushed him and the rules, and wasn’t giving you a second to recover. Wasn’t giving the sharp pain a chance to dull before coming down again.
By fifteen, you were tensing in preparation for each spank and your ass felt like it was on fire. The heat extended down to your clit, where it ached with need. Each hit sent a vibration straight past your core and to your clit, which was swollen and aching to be touched. You hadn’t let a tear fall yet, but you weren’t sure you could hold them back for much longer.
Your grip on the restraint was tight, your knuckles clenched in desperate need of something to hold onto.
Whack
“E-eighteen.”
Again.
“N-nineteen.”
Again.
“T-twenty.”
You released a breath of relief. It hurt. It really fucking hurt, but you were keenly aware of how turned on you were, at the ache between your legs.
Harry rubbed his hands over your skin and you flinched. “S’okay,” he said. You whimpered and he kissed the small of your back.
He released your ankles from the restraints and then did the same with your wrists, but you didn’t move. Your heart was still racing, even as your body untensed. Your muscles felt sore from useless tugging at the restraints as you blinked the tears away.
Harry walked around the bed and sat down.
“Come,” Harry’s voice was low, demanding, as he sat on the edge of the bed with his hands gripping the end of the mattress.
Your body immediately tensed again.
When you didn’t move, he sighed, annoyed. “Fucking hell.” He twisted, gripped your hips and pulled you over his lap like a rag doll. If you weren’t so worried about what was coming next, you would’ve enjoyed his manhandling a little more. Not to say that you didn’t enjoy it at all.
He positioned you so that your ass was directly over his lap, where you could feel his erection dig into your hip through his dress pants. Your upper body hung off one side of his lap, and your legs hung off the other. He ran his hands over your skin and you began to squirm.
“When are you going to learn.” It wasn’t a question and so you kept your mouth shut. He shifted you so that you were folded over his left thigh. He lifted his right leg and placed it over your legs so you could kick them or wriggle off his lap. He swiped his tie from where he discarded it on the nightstand and expertly twisted it around your wrists before tying it to the nightstand’s leg. When he sat up, he laid an arm across your shoulders.
Once again, he had rendered you immobile. And once again, heat seared through you at the idea of it–the way it always did. You had been trying to hold on to your control, but this is what you liked. You liked being commanded, ordered around, at Harry’s will and mercy. You ached at the idea of relinquishing it all and letting him do whatever he wanted. Take you however he wanted. And you needed this, you thought. After all the stress and frustration, you needed to just let go.
You relaxed against him and his cock twitched against your leg. He ran his hand over your skin that still burned and a soft whimper escaped you.
“Talk to me.” a hint of softness seeped into his voice. “What’s going on with you lately? What’s this need to disrespect and disobey?”
“Nothing.”
You cried out when his hand landed harshly on what was starting to feel like bruising skin.
“Why are you still trying to lie to me?” He ground out.
You didn’t know. There was no reason to, but you were stubborn. You always had been.
When you didn’t say anything, he pushed a finger inside your dripping center. A long, low moan escaped your lips. He moved it in and out of you at an agonizing pace.
When he pulled his finger out, you squirmed in protest.
“Stop.” You stilled. “If you want more, you’ll talk.”
You took a deep breath. “I’m just stressed out.” You flinched slightly as he dragged his nails over your ass. “And frustrated.”
“With me?”
“No, sir.”
“With work?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I told you to quit.”
Immediately, you went rigid and you knew he could feel your back tense beneath him. He massaged his fingers into your muscles. “See, there. What happened just then?”
“Nothing.”
You cursed when his hand came down. Right after, his fingers moved to your clit and you moaned while trying to push yourself further into his hand, but he wouldn’t allow it.
“You want a reward, huh? Don’t know what makes you think you deserve it.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“If you’re sorry, you’ll talk. So talk.”
He took his fingers away and you whined. He was going to hold you there until you gave him what he wanted, until you let him have all your control.
“Stop being stubborn, sub.”
“I don’t like when you call me that.”
Another swat to your ass. And fuck it burned. Tears sprang to your eyes.
“I’ll stop once you learn your place. Once you’ve earned back my affection.”
Your heart sank and your cheeks heated in shame. After two deep breaths, your body relaxed.
“I feel like–I feel like I have no power at work.” His fingers traced up and down your slit. “I get ordered around all day; blamed and chastised for stuff that isn’t my fault. I spend my whole day feeling degraded and out of control.”
“When you’re used to being your own boss,” he said in understanding. He traced his fingers over the hood of your clit, refusing to make actual contact and you whined in anticipation. “Go on.” The timbre in his voice was back.
“And you telling me to just quit–” He squeezed your clit between his fingers as a warning to lose the attitude. You adjusted your tone. “I want to quit and I know I need to, but I can’t. And when you make it out to be so easy, it makes me mad.” He trailed his fingers through your folds, running them over your labia, spreading your arousal until every piece of you was wet. You gave a shuddering moan. “It felt so defeating–giving up all my control after a day of having it just taken from me.”
“It is easy. If you’d just let me take care of you.” The frustration in his voice was clear.
“I-I can’t.”
“You can, you’re just being stubborn.” He sighed, releasing some of the hardness from his voice. “Bottling up on all that stress and frustration hasn’t done you any good, has it?”
“No, sir.”
“I could’ve been helping you get rid of it, let it go.”
“But–”
He dipped his fingers into you. “You’ve got to let it go, love.” Your chest warmed at the pet name. “Just let me take care of you.”
You attempted, again, to push yourself into his hand when he brushed his knuckles over your clit.
“If you want to come, love, you’re gonna have to relinquish control. You’re gonna have to let me take care of you.”
You moaned in frustration as his fingers ghosted over you.
“Please.” He pinched you again. “Please, sir,” you corrected.
“Let me take care of you.” His voice was soft. “Will you let me take care of you?”
When you whimpered in agony, he shoved two fingers deep inside of you–and pulled them out just as quick. Your breathing had sped up and your nipples hardened as they brushed against the fabric of his pants.
“Will you let me?”
Fuck, you couldn’t take it anymore–and he wanted to, so why wouldn’t you let him?
“Yes, s-sir.”
“Ask me.”
Of course he was going to make you ask him.
He circled around your clit, but didn’t touch it. You felt yourself begin to pant with need.
The embarrassment began to encroach on your chest but you pushed past it. “Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Please, take care of me.”
A slap to your pussy sent you reeling.
“I think you’re forgetting something.”
“Please, take care of me, s-sir.”
“Since you asked nicely.” The smirk was evident in his voice.
He pushed two fingers into you, curling them in the way he knew you needed. A moan broke from deep in your chest and you tried to grip onto his thigh, but the tie held your hands firmly in place. As he fingered you deeply, he leaned forward and kissed the skin of your back.
“If I untie you, will you be good?”
His fingers still moved in and out of you, and with the sounds falling from your lips, all you could do was manage a nod. Your boyfriend chuckled. He held his fingers inside of you and bent over to tug at the knot to release you. Your wrists were slightly red from writhing against the fabric and the sight of them sent a shameful spark of excitement through you.
Easily, he lifted you up and placed you so you were sitting up, your back against his chest and your ass on his lap, rubbing against his erection. He stretched one arm across your chest and placed his hand on your breast, holding you against him, while the other opened your legs, lifting each one up and draping them over his open knees.
“You’re not going to try and close your legs, are you, love?”
“No, sir.” You placed your hands behind your thighs, onto his, working to hold yourself up. Your body was tired. Even if you wanted to close your legs, you weren’t sure you had the energy.
“That’s my good girl.” You melted at his approval. He dropped his head down and nipped and kissed along your neck and shoulder while the hand that wasn’t holding you to him landed between your legs.
He traced slow circles over your clit and your head dropped back against him. You were so ready, that it didn’t take much for the tightening in the pit of your stomach to start; as it did, your moans increased and your chest began to heave. His pace was agony. When you tried to increase the pressure by lifting yourself to his fingers, he held you back.
“Please…” you breathed. “...faster.”
“No.”
You groaned and he laughed softly against your skin.
The build up was almost painful and your ass stung fresh each time it rubbed against him, but soon you saw white and a loud cry escaped you as your hips bucked against him and your chest shuttered in his hand.
“Good girl,” he whispered, holding his pace as you came down. You were swollen and shaking, each stroke of his finger bringing through a new aftershock. “You’re not done, love.” He whispered.
Before you could question him, he lifted you and laid you on the bed on your back. When you went to sit up, you were met with a glare. You lowered yourself back down and waited, legs open, for him.
He tugged you to the edge so that your toes barely touched the floor and your ass hung off the edge. Harry leaned over you and for the first time all night, brushed his lips against yours. When you whimpered, he grabbed your jaw and deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth, swirling it over yours. He was warm and still tasted like the wine the two of you drank with dinner. Your body reignited, your nipples rising to peaks and your clit throbbing for more. He rubbed his erection against your thigh and indulged in a moan.
When you tried to loop your arms around his neck, he grabbed them and held them against the mattress. “I don’t want to restrain you again, so don’t make me.” It was a warning–one that sent a jolt straight to your core.
Not looking for a response, he pushed himself up and went to the nightstand. He pulled out a vibrating dildo and kneeled down in front of your open pussy. He kissed the inside of your thighs, the spot between your thighs and your lips, and just over your clit. Each time his breath hit you, you shuddered.
The tip of the dildo touched your core and you shivered against the cold silicone. He dipped it into you slowly, allowing you a moment to register its size, before he pushed it into you entirely. It curved, scraping against the spot inside that sent your back arching off the bed. It was big–and thick. You felt yourself stretch around it, filling you entirely.
It clicked on and your muscles tightened around it. “Oh, my god.” You gripped at the comforter beneath you as your hips began to roll.
Harry squeezed the inside of your thigh and began moving it in and out of you again. Your breathing was ragged and you had to force yourself to keep your legs open, to keep your toes touching the floor.
“Does that feel good?”
“Ye–yes, s-sir.”
He kissed your clit before increasing the vibrations. You cried out as your hips bucked, your clit searching for any kind of friction. Harry hummed and you felt the slick of his tongue against you. You struggled to keep your hips down as pleasure rolled through you, hot and intense.
“Oh, my god.” Your hips began to buck–and suddenly you were empty. Cool air replaced Harry’s tongue. You whimpered and lifted your head. “Wha-”
“I don’t remember giving you permission to come, did I, love?” His voice was thick, his pupils blown out in desire.
“N-no. I’m sorry, sir.”
Without warning, the vibrator was inside you again, pushing against your walls, while Harry flicked his tongue quickly over your bud. Your grip on the comforter was deadly and your chest heaved as you attempted to stave off your orgasm.
It continued to build and moans slipped through your lips unallowed.
“Sir…” You groaned.
“Not yet.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t.”
A sweat broke out across your forehead and dampened your chest. You tried to focus on anything other than the way Harry’s tongue lapped at your clit and how well the dildo filled you. But it was hard. You could feel yourself losing control.
Harry nipped at your clit in warning, but you were so far gone it didn’t hurt, only added to your pleasure.
He was holding out, but you weren’t sure for what. He had already punished you–what more did he want?
Relief filled you when you realized: he wanted you to beg. He wanted you to give up control, to beg him to help you come undone.
“Sir, p-please.”
He ignored you.
“Please, can I come.”
He hummed against you.
“Please–fuck–please, can you help me come…”
He kissed your clit. “Go ahead, love.”
You relaxed and let your orgasm rip through your body. The pleasure was so good it was blinding. Your cries mixed with curses and you had the comforter balled so tightly in your fists you were surprised it didn’t tear.
After its peak, you had a moment of contentment before searing pleasure sent your skin on fire. He had upped the vibrations–and not just inside you, but against your clit. It seemed he had been hiding the vibrators rabbit attachment from you, saving it to send you over the edge one last time.
He rocked the dildo inside of you, hitting your g-spot while the points of the rabbit pressed against your already swollen clit. He reached his free hand up and pinched your already erect nipples, while kissing your hips and mound.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered against your skin. “Look at me.”
You opened your eyes and lifted your head. Teetering on the verge of coming undone for the third time, he lessened the vibrations and came to lay next to you on the bed. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at you.
He started moving the dildo inside you and bent down to give you a hard kiss.
“You need to let go. Stop fighting it.”
“I’m n–” Your argument died in your throat when you realized how tense your body was. You tried to relax, but it was too much. It would be too much. You were sore and swollen and so sensitive that a few tears had already slipped down your face.
He dipped down and rubbed his nose against your cheek. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered.
You looked at him and saw only tenderness and love. “Yes, sir.”
He changed the vibrator’s setting once more and you cried out.
“Keep your legs open,” he commanded while you writhed against the bed and he watched you.
He licked at your now tender nipples.
Too much. Too much. Too much.
You wanted to please him–and you wanted the release.
You breathed through the unbearable pleasure and the second your body relaxed, an orgasm unlike any other tore through your body. You let out a scream as Harry rocked the dildo against your g-spot and continued his assault on your nipples with his tongue.
Your cries grew hoarse as he forced you to ride out the entirety of your orgasm with the vibrations set to high and your body shook with the aftershocks as your muscles tightened around the toy still inside you.
He pulled it out and kissed you softly, as your body continued to shake with the aftermath. He wiped tears from your cheeks that you hadn’t even realized had fallen and pulled you tightly into his chest. Your breathing was ragged as he ran his hands over your back. When he brushed his hands over your ass you flinched.
“That might hurt for a bit,” he whispered. You cuddled closer and he kissed the top of your head.
When he started to move, you whimpered. He sat up and pulled you with him. You groaned in protest and scratched down your back. “Just moving us under the blanket, love.”
As he settled against the pillows with you between his legs and your head on his chest, the relief pooled in your chest. The stress was gone, as well as the frustration.
Then, just as quickly, an emptiness moved in–an embarrassment at the fact that you had been punished. This always happened afterwards and you hated it every time.
When he heard you sniffle, he tilted up your chin to look at him.
“Oh, poor baby.” He said when he saw the tears in your eyes. He hugged you tighter and you burrowed into him, though it was impossible for you to get any closer. “I’m sorry I had to do that. I know you’re not a fan of the paddle.” He rubbed his hand up and down your arm.
“It’s okay. I mean, honestly, I probably should’ve been punished weeks ago.”
Harry’s chest rumbled with a soft laugh. “That’s exactly right.”
“I’m sorry, sir. For being mean.”
“It’s not about meanness. It’s about disrespect, love–disobedience. You know how this works.”
“I know–”
He pinched her side. “Don’t interrupt. It’s unnecessary, so it’s willful. All I ever ask is that you talk to me.”
You looked up at him, asking for permission. He smiled and your heart swelled.
“Go ahead.”
“I’m sorry for being disrespectful,”
“S’okay. I think you’ve learned your lesson” Desire flashed in his eyes and suddenly you were reminded of his still very hard cock pressed against your back.
“Oh–do you want–”
He smiled and shook his head before guiding your head back to his chest. “Not tonight. Sweet of you to think of me.”
Your body relaxed further into him. “My butt hurts.”
You felt his lips against your hair. “Proud of you for taking it so well. You did a good job, love.”
Warmth filled you, knowing you had pleased him. “Thank you, sir.”
The comforter shifted off your shoulder and you shivered.
“How about a warm bath–for the two of us? How does that sound?”
You hummed your approval.
He nuzzled your cheek with his nose. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
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harryssyndrome · 7 months
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The Enemy: 1 | Castaway
A/N: It's nice to be back along a idea with my love life. Hopefully my spark will stay alive to finish this short story. Thank you for your support in all of my stories. Guess what's gonna happen next and let me know in the comments. And I'm sorry in advance for any historical errors if any in the future chapters. More to come soon!
Pairing: Harry Styles x OC
Word Count: 1.2k
Series Master-Post | MASTERLIST
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Home - July 22nd, 1944 - 4:38 PM - Syracuse, Italy
The sun was slowly heading toward the horizon and air felt soft, bunch of seagull were playing in the open sky. Kate was sitting on a chair in a comfortable silence by the coastline. She was reading a new thriller novel when a pair of arms wrapped around her shoulders, alarmed, she gasped, making her roommate laugh. Rave was her soul sister more than a friend or roomie.
"Oh I'm gonna get you" Kate says, throwing her book on her seat as she ran after Rave, both laughing like little kids. Running into the beach, time waiting for either of the girl to slow down and eventually the girls stopped, catching their breath.
Rave walked up to Kate and sat down pulling her as well, the waves were touching their feet. "Girl with your face and fantasies mostly read romance novels but you are just the opposite, what is it with you? Bad taste in boys or you're hiding a secret I don't know." Rave asked with mischievous voice.
"You know everything there is missy! I never dated a boy so can't comment about a taste and you know it besides, thriller is something my life is missing out right now." Kate says playfully.
"Point to be taken my lady. Who knows a thrill ride finds its way to you by just a boy!" Rave smiles while Kate playfully rolls her eyes and mimics talking with her hand like 'blah blah'.
"I'm serious Katie! Life gets exciting babe"
"Maybe... but right now? I wanna enjoy this moment with my girl." Kates smirks and then splashes salty water into her face. Rave softly moans and starts splashing the water back at Kate.
The clouds were slowly rising from the ocean and mist was hid the outline of the coast. The girls were giggling and smiling through their wet faces, when Rave's eyes befell on something black and she stopped playing, making Kate confused. "What is that thing?" Grabbing Kate's attention, Rave nudged her to move on and check it out, while she would stay behind her. "Why?"
"Because you read more thriller books than I do."
Taking steady steps toward the thing Kate's heart hammered into her chest, approaching further they began to realize it's a man. He was flung up out of the ocean. Arms above his head, feet by the beaker; girls stood in front of the unconscious man wondering how he managed to come through the dangerous spiked rocks. Well he did somehow - he must've been badly torn. They inspected him to find indeed he was so. The sand on one side of him slowly became stained of red soaking through.
Kate squatted down to take a look at the condition of his face, upon his young and tortured face was a cut, his brunette hair, wet. Blood flowed freshly at her touch. On the right side of his lower back Kate saw that a gun wound had been reopened. The flesh was blackened with charge of powder. Sometime, not many days ago, the man had been shot and had not been tended. It was bad chance that the rock had struck the wound.
"Help me get him inside" She said in hurry, as Rave helped her to lift him. The girls swing his arms around their neck when Rave exclaims "He's a British soldier!" As she stops, "I know" Kate voice sounds small, eyes still looking at the unconscious man.
"And you're helping him? Still?! Do you even realize the consequences of this?!" She spat back.
"I know... but we can't leave him here to die now that we've found him. I know he's the enemy, but it's not his fault that the world is standing on a battlefield, he was doing his part and anyways we as a doctor take a oath. We're bounded by it. And if we not even consider that, then we really shouldn't be doctors and most importantly, I'm doing this for humanity. I'm ready to be a traitor and at least for now I'm not regretting it."
"Well... I can digest this by simply saying this again 'thrill ride found its way to you by just a boy' yeah?"
"Yeah" girls passed a small smile to each other.
They carried him up the steps and into the side door of the house. This door opened into a passage, and down the passage they carried the man towards an empty bedroom. Kate bent down and started to peel off his clothes so that she could later wash off the sand and dirt while she had Rave get a bucket of water and a small towel to wipe him.
Rave rushed back into the room with the bucket and handed over the wet towel to Kate as she asked her to prepare the tools for operation, she headed out with a nod. When she came back, she gave the man an injection of anesthesia, Kate located the area where the blood flowing like a river, she felt the tip of his instrument strike against something hard, dangerously near the kidney, then quickly, with the cleanest and most precise of incisions, the bullet was out.
The man quivered but he was still unconscious. "He won't need more anesthesia I guess" Rave says calmly while Kate turned as swiftly as though she had never paused and from her medicines she chose a small vial and from it filled a hypodermic and thrust it into the patient's left arm. Then putting down the needle, she took the man's wrist again. The pulse under her fingers fluttered once or twice and then grew stronger.
"He will surely survive." Kate says with a tearful grin, hugging her best friend. It was her first ever operation without any assistance and she pulled it off with ease moreover she was happier about the fact that this man who seems not more than 25 years old will live.
She checks her wristwatch it was almost 8 pm so they decided to let him have rest and have some rest themselves after having an 'exciting day. Kate lied down on the couch, closing her eyes and taking deep breath while Rave brought two glasses of cold coffee in her hand, she softly whispered "Katie" as she sat in semi-sitting position and took the glass from Rave's hand and says "thank you". The girls sipped in silence until Rave broke it, "what are we gonna do next?" Kate just shrugged.
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