Filed under: tiktoks of men I simp for and saving them just because I don't wanna lose these ever but because I don't wanna take up my phone storage, I'm posting it here pt. 2
Can we seriously talk about his praise kink though? We’ve seen how supposedly bashful he gets when people tell him he’s hot but I think he actually loves it especially when he’s being intimate with someone. I think he’s very vocal if he finds you attractive and enjoys reciprocation lol
Oh definitely
I think the reason Harry’s so shy when people compliment him is because they’re fans and strangers and it’s usually in public. But in a more private setting/event, he’d probably get that self-assured smirk he does when people scream his own lyrics back at him and cry about how amazing he is.
He’s a self-proclaimed narcissist and that’s basically just him admitting to his praise kink and it absolutely magnifies when he’s being intimate with someone.
He’d just love to have you fuel his ego. Like you could be just making out on the bed and he’d pull back a bit, which just spurs you into finding a new place to attach your lips. You’d end up scattering desperate sloppy pecks down his neck as he lets his head hang back, throat straining with the weight and etching in a few veins that disappear into the underside of his jaw.
He’d swallow heavily, chewing on his bottom lip before wetting it lightly with his tongue, mouth falling open in a silent moan as a shiver topples down the knobs of his spine. He’d grip your hips harder, breathing catching as your teeth skim a particularly soft spot along his collarbones.
Harry’s voice would come out tight and breathy with an undercurrent of cocksure smugness. “You like the way I taste, don’t you?”
Your answer is muffled by his heated skin, your lips refusing to part with his body because feeling his jugular flex under the ridges of your mouth is the only thing feeding the boiling pit of need in your stomach. “Of course I do. Thought it was fucking obvious.”
He leans back slowly, lower back flushing against the mattress as he balances onto his forearms, propping himself with his elbows. You have no choice but to follow, falling forward so that your chest is melded to his, knees digging into the sides of his thighs as your fingers wrinkle the fabric of the expensive t-shirt stretching against his broad chest.
You tug at the material, the collar of the tee riding down the swell of his pectorals and revealing the antennas of his butterfly tattoo. Your eager lips follow the ink with quick, wet kisses, exhales shallow and feverish as every nerve in your body screams to feel him— feel him more.
Harry just stares down at you over the sweaty tops of his cheeks, eyelashes dusting his cheekbones drunkenly as his mind fogs with pleasure. His voice is thick and deep, rumbling in his lungs. “What about my cock?”
You release a desperate growl, hot and bothered beyond manageable. “God, Harry, I want it so bad.”
“Why?”
Your fingers release the collar of his shirt, your mouth coasting its way up his jaw and across his chin, eyes crossing with his dark, sparkling own. “What do you mean why? You know why.”
The corners of Harry’s faint grin curve upwards even further, lips parting in an open-mouthed smirk, dimple carving into his cheek. “Wanna hear you say it.”
You hoist yourself up his body so that your noses bump, maintaining the intense eye contact he’s locked you in. Your fingers drift up his heaving chest to his sturdy shoulders, digging into the hard muscles and you can feel him twitch between your thighs in response.
Your throat tightens as he juts his chin a bit, signifying for you to speak up, his mouth teasing yours but not allowing you to fully kiss him. “Tell me why you like bouncing on it so much.”
“Fuck, H, because…”
His hips shift, hands groping your waist harder, slowly rocking you on his crotch. “Because what?”
“Because you’re so fucking big and you hit every spot perfectly and— and, fuck, you just feel so good stretching me out.”
His head falls back again, hanging from his shoulders, eyelids drooping shut in bliss as the words sink into his veins and go straight to his prick. He runs his bottom lip between his teeth, chuckling lowly as you lick at his Adam’s Apple with a form of raw need that strokes his confidence just right. “What else?”
You’re so far gone the syllables just tumble out. “You know how to use it so well. Every thrust makes me feel like I’m gonna pass out. And you’re so good with your fingers, too. You always get me dripping because you know just the right way to finger me into a begging mess. And your mouth. Shit, your mouth. It’s so pretty— like, so fucking pretty and soft and it drives me crazy.”
He can feel himself tenting his sweats and staining his briefs. “Jesus Christ, you’re such a slut for it.”
The way you toy at the waistband of his bottoms is almost pitiful, your little gasps and whines smearing along the dip of his throat. “Just wanna feel you inside me. Please?”
He grins into the darkness of the room, eyes fluttering open when he feels his underwear being tugged down his thighs. “Slow, darling. Sit on it nice and slow. Make sure you feel every fucking inch.”
You nod so fast your head throbs, eyes widening as his cock jolts against his thigh, painfully hard with drops of precum beading from the tip. The way your mouth waters is embarrassing.
Harry lulls his neck forward, taking in your appearance, thighs clenching as he watches your shaking hand grasp him timidly. “It’s funny how you’ll say the absolute filthiest things but then get all shy when I finally let you have what you want. S’cute.”
Your cheeks simmer.
He swiftly pushes himself back into a sitting position, grabbing at your face roughly and jerking your head up until your lips touch, his cold rings imprinting along your jaw. “Go on, fuck yourself on me. S’what you wanted, isn’t it?”
You nod numbly in his grasp.
Harry sponges his mouth onto your left cheek tenderly, the innocent fashion of the action sharply contrasting the aura he’s established in the room. His voice compliments his gentle manner— soft and melodic— but the actual words make your pulse slam in your temples.
warnings: smut, masterbation, daddy mentions, heavy degradation and humiliation (lots of sluts and whores) but also some good girls !! teasing (so much teasing), orgasm denial/edging, choking, bondage, cum play (so also unprotected sex), pussy play (including spanks and cock thumping), pillow humping (for like a second), spitting, panty fucking, harry has a very dirty mind, please, only 18+ !!
word count: 6.4k
synopsis: he only has one rule, and she still can’t seem to follow it (or in which harry teaches y/n a lesson)
author’s note: hello! this took a little longer than i expected, so thank you for being patient with me! this is absolute, pure, unadulterated filth (absolutely no fluffiness about this—be proud for me) please, note the warnings and don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with anything mentioned above (that’s why i put them there :)) xx
masterlist
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Y/N’s heart races in her ears as she scrubs at her hands, foamy soap slipping down her wrists in her haste. Harry calls for her downstairs, the front door slamming shut, shaking the house. She can’t find her voice just yet, traces of a stolen orgasm lingering in her tired body. The sheets are crumpled from her quick highs, and her legs are weak. She feels giddy, despite the odd numbness that seeps into her bones. She finally feels fulfilled after a long day of insatiable throbbing between her legs.
Clad in a simple tee and underwear, she steps out of their bathroom when he finally gets up to their bedroom. She dries her hands off, eucalyptus, mint, and other artificial scents lingering. She’s still catching her breath.
“Hey, babe,” she smiles, just like she does every time he gets back home, but there’s something behind it that’s unfamiliar, a devilish hint.
It’s her eyes that give her away.
They’ve been together long enough for him to know what she looks like after she comes, her shaky legs, dopey smile, and glazed over eyes. The mischievous glint is different, however.
“How was your—”
“How many times?”
“What?” She tilts her head to the side, brows furrowed innocently. It angers him; it actually makes his chest tight, and he has to bite his cheek to keep from snapping. She has the nerve to act as if nothing is wrong. Lip tucked between teeth, she steps forward, hands splayed in front of her. An unfamiliar feeling bubbles in his stomach. Not quite possessiveness but certainly close, this feeling is akin to lust and indignation, and it melts into a pool of gluttonous desire.
Normally, he takes a step back to collect his thoughts when he’s this emotionally invested, but it’s difficult when she looks so tempting, so divine, so satisfied. Fresh faced with a cheeky grin, she beckons him, imploring him to punish her, challenging him to ruin her.
He stalks forward, their gazes never faltering, until she falls onto the bed, still looking at him innocently.
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