Description: Harry and y/n made a bet a week ago to see which one of them could go the longest without sex.. The obviously both break. (Not much of a description here sorry!)
A/n: Give me feedback! (If there is any mistakes i apologize in advance, i did not proof read!)
âFuck..â Harry grunted as he watched me on my knees between his legs as i sucked his cock slowly.
Teasing eachother for weeks is not a good idea, especially if you make a bet on it.
never again.
One of his large hands comes down to the base of my neck, to drag his hand up into my hair, and tangle his thick fingers into the roots of my dark brown hair, tugging my head back effectively.
âLook at you.. fuckinâ cock slut, on your knees for daddy, you practically fell to your knees the second i told you too, didnât you?â he rasped as he tugged my head back futher so my lips dragged off his thick length.
âAnswer me.â he said as he gripped my hair tighter, i whimpered.
âYes.. I love your cock, daddy.â
He let out a grunt of approval as he shoved my mouth back down on his cock, grabbing a fistful of my hair to maneuver me how he wanted.
"You like it when I pull your hair like that? Course you do. All little sluts like you like getting their hair pulled." Harry said, yanking my hair again, causing me to cry out, the sound muffled by his dick in my mouth. Gripping my hair tighter, he used his other hand to grasp me under the chin, holding my head firmly in place as he began to fuck me. I kept my mouth open as wide as possible, making sure to keep my lips wrapped around my teeth as he picked up his speed. "Look at you, just a hole for me to use."
Tears began to form in my eyes as he pushed his hips forward until his cock hit the back of my throat, causing me to gag. Harry pulled back quickly, allowed me a second to breath before snapping his hips forward, pushing even further this time. I could feel his dick starting to curve down my throat and I gagged again, causing him to pull back. Harry repeated the process over and overâpushing further each time. Hot tears were streaming down my face as I attempted to take in air through my nose.
"Shh." Harry hushed me while he shoved his cock down my throat. "I know it's a lot to take, isn't it? Good thing you're a fucking slut...fuck!"
I placed my hands on his hips, bracing myself as he continued his aggressive assault on my mouth. He was absolutely wrecking me and I could feel myself reaching my breaking point. I felt my heart jump at the thought of needing to employ my safe word. Just when I thought it might become a possibility, Harry pulled out of my mouth, cursing loudly. Grabbing his dick, he continued to stroke it at the same pace he was just fucking my mouth.
"For fuck's sake, princess. Your mouth is fucking unbelievable. Look at you, makeup running down your face." He ran his thumb down my cheek, tracing the mascara trails that my tears had created before swiping roughly across my bottom lip. "Who's daddy's little fuckdoll?"
"Me. I'm just a hole for you, daddy." I panted, still trying to catch my breath. "Please fuck me. I need to feel you inside me."
Harry grabbed me by my chin, holding my gaze. The green of his irises had become so dark that they almost looked black. He looked wild, feral, like an animal that was about to strike. I watched as his mouth twisted into a smug smile. âStand up for me baby, daddyâs gonna give you what you need.â
I stood up, my knees a little wobbly as he pushed my panties down, as he lifted me up to lay me down on our bed. Crawling ontop of me, bracing one hand beside my head and the other dragging my leg over his hip, nudging his thick cock head against my clit, as he used his hand to rub his tip against my clit to get some of my wetness on him, i whimpered as he smirked a little.
âGood fuckinâ girl.. so goddamn wet for me, you know i love it so much, darling. You get this fuckinâ wet from sucking dick, you fuckinâ slut? huh?â He slapped his cock against my clit making me tremble as i held back a needy whine.
âYes daddy.. i love sucking your cock.â i said as he smirked in arrogance and shoved his thick cock in me suddenly making me cry out from the sudden intrusion.
âmm.. such a tight cunt.â he growled as he gripped the underside of my knee, keeping it hooked on his hip as he pushed his cock more firmly into me, and then dragged it out slowly but the intense feeling was pounding through me.
i whimpered.
âWhat is it, hm? speak up.â he demanded as he fucked his cock back into me slowly but the depth was there, as my eyes rolled back slightly.
Iâve never been that vocal during sex with telling harry what i wanted but he quickly broke me out of that habit with his firm dominance.
âI-i want it faster.. please daddyâŚâ i murmured as he watched my breasts bounce slightly from his slow thrust.
âYeah? my little cock slut wants more of her daddyâs cock huh? You want me to fuck into you faster huh babygirl?â he muttered as his pace got faster but the thrusts stayed sharp and hard.
My mouth fell open as i arched my neck back, little mewling sounds falling from my lips as he leaned down to kiss along my breasts that bounced at a faster and more consistent pace now.
âh-harry!â i cried out as he thrust faster and harder, fucking into me with the pace and sharpness i loved.
âYeah? talk to me baby.. How does my cock feel stretching out that tiny, tight cunt?â he grunted as he sucked my nipple into his mouth.
I dug my nails into his biceps as i held on for dear life as he fucked me hard.
âWhose pussy is this? Huh? Is this tight little pussy mine?â he growled as he hooked both of my legs over his arms and then pressing them up against my chest, i cried out as he just grunted and fucked me harder.
âmy fucking pussy.. mine to fuck, mine to kiss, mine to lick, mine to breed..â he said through clenched teeth as his jaw clenched and he started pounding into me.
I was completely gone, the feeling was overtaking me, i couldnât think straight as he pounded his thick cock into my pulsating cunt.
âi-i-iâm gonna cum!â i cried out as he found my g-spot and started to hit it continuously.
I screamed Harry's name over and over as my pussy gripped him tightly, my release coming hard and fast.
"You're so tight, princess. Feel so fucking good. Cum, cum for daddy. Want to feel you..."
"Harry...fuck, Harry...you fuck me so good...no one's ever fucked me like this..." I was completely lost in the moment, not even aware of what was coming out of my mouth but apparently Harry enjoyed it because a few seconds later, he spoke.
"Fuck...'M gonna cum...Jesus..." Harry muttered, yanking my hips back hard before stilling me against him as he found his own release. I could feel his cock twitching as he shot his load deep inside me, calling out my own name as he did so. "Holy fucking shit..."
i gasped out as his hips twitched in small lazy thrusts as he rode out his intense orgasm.
âgood fuckinâ girl.. so good for daddyâŚâ he said as he let my legs down slowly as he pulled out of me with care, rubbing his hands up my sides as he kissed between my breasts and up towards my lips.
I was puffing out breaths as i kept my eyes closed in ecstasy, he pulled his mouth away from mine, as he kissed my cheek.
âWas i too rough angel?â he whispered as he nudged his nose against my softly.
I shook my head as i helped push his long hair from out of his face.
âNo, it was perfect.. made me feel so good.â i murmured, He then kissed my forehead as he got up, walking towards the bathroom i assume to get a rag to clean me up.
He came back as he gently wiped his cum from my sensitive core and around the insides of my thighs as he kissed my stomach with care.
âYou did so good angel.â He murmured again as he tossed the rag away and pulled me down into his embrace, rubbing my naked back gently.
â ď¸ - smut! dom M, sub F, consensual sex, party, little tipsy, but again, all consensual! Dating couple!
Era - 2016! - kinktober babyyy!! sorry its so short!
-
âYou want me to.. leave the mask on?â I state to you, eyes wide.
Today was Halloween, well, the night before. But Louis was hosting a party and well obviously we went.
You and I have been dating for almost two years now. Stronger than ever. Youâve helped me through the hiatus. I hit rock bottom, I didnât know what to do. I was so stressed with becoming a solo artist. But youâve helped me through, helping me write some lyrics for some songs.
And well, weâve obviously had sex.
I mean, mind blowing sex.
But when you were showing me your costume for tonight, gosh. I got hard. You were dressed as an angel. But you had these angel wings, white mini dress, so before we left. You gave me a blowjob. I was dressed boring. All black outfit with the iconic scream mask
But back to now.
We were just dancing, sipping our drinks, hell we even had a smoke. But once we came back inside. Youâve been holding me, never wanting to not be touching me. And I love it.
But you just whispered in my ear that you want sex. And Louis has two guest rooms, so it wasnât an issue for us, and Louis.
But what took me off guard was that you told me you want me to leave the mask on, you found it hot. And I didnât know youâd be into that..
I mean sure, Iâve handcuffed you, weâve done wax play, but thatâs really it. And I know itâs not much. But any type of kinks is definitely so much for us.
I watched as your pupils dilated as I nodded, before we walked upstairs. You kissed my neck, well, as best as you could with the mask in the way. I wouldnât be able to kiss you, which is fucking annoying.
I closed and locked the door behind me, watching as you giggled, yeah, we were both definitely tipsy.
âYou sure you want this baby?â I asked, hovering over you, my fingers sliding off the angel wings.
I watched as you nodded, but not good enough. I wanted verbal, especially that weâre both tipsy.
âNo, words. Câmon. Be a good girl and use your words.â
âYes. I want it, I want it so much.â You said softly, your breathes coming out in soft pants.
I watched as you sat up, letting me slip off the white glittering angel wings. Before you laid back down.
I gently hooked my fingers around the straps of the dress, before pulling it down slowly. Your eyes widen. And so did mine. As soon as I pulled the dress off and out of your legs, I seen your white lacy matching bra and thong. And gosh, I never get sick of seeing you. Not matter how long weâve been together.
I took off my shirt, struggling a little with the mask. I heard you laughing, which made me laugh.
I eventually got it off, before I unbuckled my belt, stepping out of my black jeans. My boxers did no job at hiding the bulge.
A small smirk hit my mouth, and I watched as you reached behind your back unclasping your bra.
I watched as you pulled it off, showing your round breasts, nipples perking from the change of being in a warm bra, to being bare.
I groaned softly, god. You have no idea how badly I want to take those breasts into my mouth and suck.
I helped you take your thong off, and I seen the glisten. you're fucking soaked.
I pulled down my boxers, before I wasted no time.
I pushed into you, doing it with ease as you were so fucking soaked. I groaned, and you let out a soft moan.
I started rocking my hips, and your moans grew stronger.
"You're so fucking perfect" I pant, it coming out rougher through the mask.
You moaned, wrapping your legs around my waist, and you moaned louder at the new spot I'm hitting. I moaned softly. feeling your heels digging into my lower back.
Your moans grew louder, and I got louder as well. Your back arched, your eyes pinching shut and moaning.
"Touch your little clit baby, C'mon. Be a good girl. I want you to cum all over my cock" I moaned, my hips snapping harder. My balls hitting your skin.
sex, moans, pants, skin clapping filled the room. and if anyone was to walk past, they would 100% know what we're doing.
I watched as your fingers slid down, touching your clit, your moans growing loud. You opened your eyes, watching me. I groaned, looking down. Seeing me sliding in and out of your pussy, as your juices soaked my cock. Seeing your gingers draw fast tight circles on your clit. Your walls spasms on my cock, and I knew you're about to cum.
"Oh fucking hell" You cried out, back arching up, as you held onto my biceps.
And then you came, straws of curses and moans flying past your lips.
"Good fucking girl, milking my cock. Fucking hell" I pant my thrusts coming sloppier, before I pulled out, jerking myself off, finishing on your breasts.
I heard you moan at that, and I smiled softly.
I finally took off the scream mask, sitting it aside before I leaned down, kissing you slowly.
"Are you guys fucking done? I left my smokes in ere'" I heard Louis call through the door, and you and I both started giggling.
âââ ââ ââ â âââI HATE YOU; but i want you so...fuck..
| pairing: ex!harry x fem!reader | wc: 5.7k |
| tw: angst, arguing, dirty talk, hate sex |
synopsis: Y/N and Harry's reunion at a wedding reignites their tumultuous past. A rehearsal dinner argument reveals deep-seated resentment, culminating in a raw, passionate encounter in an elevator and Harry's suite, highlighting their destructive yet undeniable connection despite their declarations of hatred.
The sea breeze did little to cool the simmering resentment between Harry and Y/N. Two years. Two long, agonizing years since their spectacular implosion, and here they were, trapped at the same idyllic, infuriating beach retreat for Sarah and Benâs wedding. Sarah, the oblivious angel, had insisted on having both her childhood best friend (Y/N) and her fiancĂŠ's oldest mate (Harry) in the wedding party. A recipe for disaster, served with a side of forced smiles and passive-aggressive glances.
Y/N adjusted the strap of her evening dress, feeling the familiar prickle of annoyance as Harryâs laugh, deep and resonant, carried across the resort grounds. He was over by the pool, holding court with a group of groomsmen, his curly hair artfully disheveled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he joked. He looked good. Too good. And that, in itself, was infuriating.
"Everything alright, Y/N?" Sarah's voice, sweet and concerned, broke through her thoughts.
Y/N plastered on a bright, sickening false smile. "Perfect, Sarah. Just admiring the... scenery." She gestured vaguely towards the turquoise ocean, conveniently avoiding eye contact with the Harry-shaped thorn in her side.
"Great! Listen, can you help Harry with setting up the beach games later? He's got the giant Jenga and cornhole, but heâs notoriously bad at instructions." Sarah chirped, oblivious.
Y/N's smile faltered. "Oh. Right. Sure." The thought of spending more than five minutes in close proximity to Harry, let alone collaborating with him, made her stomach clench.
***
Later that afternoon, the sun beat down relentlessly on the private beach. Y/N found Harry wrestling with the oversized Jenga pieces, muttering under his breath. He looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly as he saw her approach.
"Well, well, if it isn't the maid of honor," he drawled, a sarcastic edge to his voice. "Decided to grace us with your presence?"
"Don't flatter yourself, Harry," Y/N retorted, hands on her hips. "Sarah asked me to. Apparently, you're mechanically inept."
He scoffed, pushing a rogue Jenga block into place with unnecessary force. "I'm perfectly capable. Just... precision is key."
"Right. Like your precision with our relationship, then?" The words were out before she could stop them, sharp and bitter.
Harry froze, his jaw tightening. "Still holding onto that, are we? Thought you'd have moved on by now, Y/N."
"And you have, I suppose? Bouncing from one casual fling to the next?" She regretted it immediately. This wasn't why she was here. This was Sarah's day.
He turned fully to face her, his green eyes, once so warm, now almost looked frosted, icy and cold. "That's none of your business. And for the record, I'm doing just fine. Better, even."
"Good for you," she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Truly. Now, are we going to assemble this Jenga tower or just stand here exchanging pleasantries?"
They worked in tense silence, the only sounds the lapping of waves and the occasional frustrated grunt from Harry as he struggled with a particularly stubborn piece.
Y/N found herself noticing small things sheâd tried to forget: the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the lines that gathered in the middle as the corner of his eyes crinkled in a frustrated narrow, the familiar scent of his aftershave â woody and a little spicy. It was all a painful reminder of what they once were, and how spectacularly it had crashed and burned.
"You know," Harry said, his voice softer than before, breaking the silence. "This is ridiculous."
Y/N stacked another block, avoiding his gaze. "What is?"
"Us. This animosity. It's been two years, Y/N. Can't we just... pretend to be civil for Sarah and Ben?"
She finally looked at him, surprised by the unexpected olive branch. "Civil?" she echoed, a skeptical arch to her eyebrow. "We barely tolerate each other's existence."
"Exactly," he said, a weary sigh escaping him. "And it's exhausting. Look, I know things ended badly. Worse than badly. But we're stuck here. For Sarah. Can we just... call a truce until the wedding's over? No snide remarks, no dredging up the past."
Y/N considered it. The thought of another day of veiled insults and thinly disguised contempt was indeed draining. And Sarah deserved a stress-free wedding. "Fine," she said, grudgingly. "A truce. But if you so much as look at me funny, it's off."
A flicker of something that looked suspiciously like a smile touched Harry's lips, quickly suppressed. "Deal."
The truce, as fragile as a house of cards, held for the rest of the afternoon. They managed to assemble the Jenga tower and set up the cornhole boards with a strained efficiency that bordered on comedic. Other wedding guests slowly migrated to the beach, and the atmosphere lightened as laughter and music filled the air.
Harry even managed a few genuinely polite interactions with Y/N, discussing the optimal cornhole throwing technique with an almost academic earnestness. Y/N, for her part, offered a few suggestions on Jenga strategy, careful to keep her tone neutral. It was a bizarre dance, a practiced performance for the sake of their mutual friend, Sarah.
As dusk settled, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, the party shifted from the beach to the resort's private dining area for the rehearsal dinner. The long tables were adorned with fairy lights and tropical flowers, casting a warm, inviting glow. Sarah, radiant in a flowing white dress, beamed at everyone, blissfully unaware of the simmering tension just beneath the surface of Y/N and Harry's carefully constructed civility.
Y/N found herself seated directly across from Harry. Sarah, in her infinite wisdom, had placed them together at the head table with the rest of the wedding party. Y/N gritted her teeth, forcing a smile at Ben, the groom, who was seated to her right.
The dinner started innocently enough. Speeches were made, toasts were raised, and the food, a delicious array of local seafood, was served. Y/N focused on her plate, attempting to ignore Harry's presence, but it was like trying to ignore the sun. His voice, his occasional laughter, the way his hand gripped his wine glass â every small action was a jolt, a reminder.
As the evening wore on, and the wine flowed more freely, the thin veneer of their truce began to crack. It started subtly, with a shared glance that lingered a fraction too long, a dismissive flick of Harry's wrist when Y/N offered a comment on the groom's speech.
Then came the innocent-seeming question from one of the bridesmaids, Chloe. "So, Y/N, Harry, how long have you two known Sarah and Ben?"
Y/N opened her mouth to answer, but Harry cut in, a hint of something sharp in his voice. "Oh, Y/N and I go way back. We've known each other almost as long as we've known Sarah, wouldn't you say, Y/N?"
The emphasis on "way back" and the slight smirk that played on his lips made Y/N's blood boil. It felt like a subtle jab, a reminder of their shared history that he was weaponizing. "Yes, Harry, a very long time," she replied, her voice sickly sweet. "Long enough to know each other's less charming qualities, certainly."
A ripple of awkward silence passed through the table. Sarah, ever the diplomat, quickly jumped in. "Yes, it's wonderful to have all our closest friends here tonight! Ben and I are so grateful."
The conversation shifted, but the seed of resentment had been replanted. Y/N felt a familiar knot tighten in her stomach. He was doing this on purpose. He was trying to provoke her.
Later, as the dessert was being served, Harry leaned back in his chair, seemingly relaxed. "You know, Y/N," he said, his voice just loud enough for her to hear over the general murmur of conversation, "it's funny how some people just can't let go of the past. Always living in what was, instead of what is."
Y/N's spoon clattered against her dessert plate. She looked at him, her eyes blazing. This was it. He wasn't even trying to be subtle anymore. "And some people," she retorted, her voice low and furious, "are so desperate to rewrite it, they'll twist everything until it's unrecognizable."
His eyes, which had been light and teasing a moment ago, hardened. "Twist what, Y/N? The fact that we weren't meant to be? That we brought out the worst in each other?"
"You think we brought out the worst in each other?" she whispered, barely restraining herself from shouting. "Because all I remember is trying to make things work with someone who clearly didn't care enough to try!"
"Oh, I tried, Y/N!" Harry scoffed, his voice rising slightly. "I tried harder than you ever did! But you were so wrapped up in your own little world, you couldn't see it!"
"My own little world?" she shot back, a bitter laugh escaping her. "Is that what you call it? Or is that just your excuse for bailing when things got difficult? For running away instead of facing anything head-on?"
A few heads at the table turned, drawn by the rising intensity of their voices. Sarah, across the table, looked up, a frown creasing her brow.
"Running away?" Harry's jaw clenched. "I didn't run away, Y/N. I walked away from a situation that was toxic. A situation you made toxic with your constant doubts and insecurities!"
"My insecurities?" Y/N's voice trembled with a mixture of anger and hurt. "You're seriously blaming me for your inability to commit? For your inability to be honest?"
"I was honest!" he exclaimed, slapping his hand lightly on the table, making a few glasses jump. "I was always honest with you! Maybe you just didn't like what you heard!"
"I liked what I heard at the beginning," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "When you were promising me the world. Before you decided that the world was too much effort."
"This is ridiculous," Harry muttered, running a hand through his hair. "We are at Sarah and Ben's rehearsal dinner, for crying out loud. Can we please just drop this?"
"Oh, now you want to drop it?" Y/N scoffed. "After you started it? After you spent the entire day making these little digs, just to get a reaction?"
"I didn't make any digs!" he snapped. "I was trying to be civil, despite your obvious hostility!"
"My hostility?" she cried, leaning forward across the table. "You think I'm hostile? You're the one who acts like I'm a disease every time you see me!"
"Because you act like I'm the plague!" he countered, his face flushed. "You glare at me, you avoid me, you make snide comments every chance you get!"
"And what about you, Harry?" she challenged, her voice rising to a near shout. "What about your little jokes about 'old flames' and 'moving on'? Do you think I'm blind?"
The entire table had fallen silent, all eyes fixed on them. Sarah and Ben exchanged horrified glances.
Harry pushed his chair back with a loud scrape, standing up. "You know what? I can't do this. I can't sit here and pretend anymore."
"Good!" Y/N shouted, also pushing back her chair and standing. "Because I can't either! I'm sick of pretending that you're not the reason I wanted to punch a wall every time I saw your stupid, smirking face!"
His eyes widened in genuine shock, and then narrowed into slits of anger. "My smirking face? You think this is funny, Y/N?"
"No, Harry, I think it's pathetic!" she yelled, tears of frustration stinging her eyes. "Both of us! Stuck in this endless loop of resentment, all because you were too much of a coward to admit what you really wanted!"
"And what did I really want, Y/N?" he challenged, his voice dangerously quiet, but filled with a simmering rage. "Enlighten me."
"You wanted to be free!" she practically shrieked. "You wanted to be unburdened! You wanted to walk away without any consequences, and you used me as your scapegoat!"
"That's a lie!" he roared, his voice echoing through the stunned silence of the dining area.
"Is it, Harry?" she retorted, her voice cracking. "Is it really? Or is it just the truth you're too afraid to face?"
Before he could respond, Sarah, her face pale, stood up, placing a hand on Y/N's arm. "Y/N, Harry, please. This is not the time or place."
Y/N yanked her arm away. "No, Sarah, maybe it is! Maybe it's time everything was out in the open!"
Harry glared at Y/N, then at Sarah, then back at Y/N, his chest heaving. "Fine," he bit out, his voice laced with venom. "If that's how you feel, Y/N, then I guess our truce is well and truly over."
He spun on his heel and stalked out of the dining area, leaving a stunned silence in his wake. Y/N stood there, trembling, her own anger quickly giving way to a sickening wave of regret and shame. She had ruined Sarah's rehearsal dinner. She had let him get to her, again. And now, there was no going back.
Y/N stood frozen for a moment, the silence of the dining room pressing in on her. The horrified expressions on the faces of Sarah, Ben, and the other guests were a searing indictment. Shame burned through her, quickly followed by a fresh surge of fury. He thought he could just walk away? After all that? After provoking her, dredging up every painful memory, and then painting her as the hysterical one? Oh no. Not this time.
Without a second thought, Y/N spun around, ignoring Sarahâs soft, pleading whisper of her name. She had to follow him. She had to finish this. Her long dress swished around her legs as she marched purposefully towards the exit, her heart hammering against her ribs. She pushed through the heavy double doors of the dining area and emerged into the resort's opulent, brightly lit lobby.
She spotted him immediately. Harry was striding towards the elevators, his broad shoulders stiff with anger, his dark hair a mess from where heâd run his hand through it. He moved with a furious energy that mirrored her own.
"Harry!" she called out, her voice tight with suppressed rage.
He didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. He just kept walking, straight for the waiting elevator, its doors already beginning to slide open.
"Harry, wait!" she yelled, breaking into a run. The soft heels of her dress shoes clacked against the polished marble floor. Just as he reached the elevator, she lunged forward, her hand slapping against the closing doors, forcing them to retract with a soft whir.
Harry turned, his eyes blazing, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "What do you want, Y/N? Haven't you done enough damage for one night?"
She stepped into the elevator, her chest heaving, the air thick with unspoken accusations. The doors hissed shut behind her, trapping them in the small, reflective space. The soft, instrumental music playing through the elevator speakers seemed to mock the tension between them.
"Damage?" she scoffed, leaning back against the cool metal wall. "You're blaming me for this? You're the one who started it! You sat there, making those snide remarks, trying to get under my skin!"
"I was merely trying to engage in polite conversation, unlike some people," he retorted, his voice low and dangerous. He pressed the button for his floor â the top floor, she noted, the penthouse suite heâd booked for the wedding party. Of course.
"Polite conversation?" she laughed, a bitter, humorless sound. "Is that what you call it? Because it sounded an awful lot like you trying to rewrite our history, Harry. Trying to make me out to be the crazy ex, the one who couldn't move on."
"And you have, haven't you?" he challenged, turning fully to face her, his arms crossed over his chest. "You're still holding onto every grievance, every perceived slight, like some kind of trophy."
"Maybe because those 'slights' were real, Harry! Maybe because they hurt!" The words tore from her, raw and unedited. The anger was a shield, protecting her from the deeper pain that threatened to overwhelm her. "You think I enjoyed being blindsided? Being told that everything we had was just... too much for you?"
His eyes narrowed. "I never said it was too much. I said it was toxic. And it was. We were constantly fighting, constantly at odds. It was draining, Y/N. For both of us."
"It was draining because you refused to actually talk about anything! You just bottled it all up until you exploded, or worse, just disappeared!"
"I didn't disappear!" he roared, stepping closer, his face inches from hers. "I walked away from a situation that was suffocating me! You always needed more, Y/N. More reassurance, more attention, more... everything! And I couldn't give it to you!"
"And I needed that because you made me feel like I was never enough!" she shouted back, her voice cracking with the force of her emotion. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not in front of him. "You always had one foot out the door, Harry! Always! How was I supposed to feel secure when you were constantly hinting that you wanted something else, someone else?"
"That's a lie!" he seethed, his hand reaching out, not to touch her, but to brace himself against the wall beside her head, trapping her against the cool metal. His body radiated heat, a stark contrast to the cold wall. "I never wanted anyone else! I wanted us to work, but you made it impossible! You always picked fights, always doubted me, always pushed me away!"
"I pushed you away because you were already halfway gone!" she cried, her voice trembling. "Because you were afraid! Afraid to commit, afraid to be vulnerable, afraid to actually feel anything!"
"I feel plenty, Y/N!" he countered, his voice a guttural growl, his face so close she could feel the heat of his breath on her lips. His blue eyes, usually so light, were now stormy, turbulent with a mix of fury and something else she couldnât quite decipher. Something akin to desperation. "You think I didn't feel anything when you walked away? When you called me a coward?"
"You were a coward, Harry!" she hissed, though her voice was barely above a whisper now. The close proximity, the intensity of his gaze, was unsettling, thrilling. "You ran from everything that challenged you!"
"And you clung to everything that hurt you!" he shot back, his gaze dropping from her eyes to her lips, then back up again. The air crackled between them, thick with unresolved passion and lingering resentment.
"I hate you, Harry!" she screamed, the words tearing from her throat, raw and ragged. "I hate you for everything you put me through, for making me doubt myself, for breaking my heart!"
His stormy green eyes, so close they filled her vision, widened almost imperceptibly. For a fleeting second, the fury in his gaze seemed to flicker, replaced by something akin to pain, or perhaps, understanding. But then the mask snapped back into place, harder than before.
"Good," he snarled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated through her. "Because I hate you too, Y/N. I hate the way you could twist everything I said, the way you always made me feel like I was walking on eggshells, the way you never trusted me."
The confession, mirroring her own venom, should have brought her some perverse satisfaction. Instead, it felt like a punch to the gut, draining the last vestiges of strength from her. Her anger, which had been a raging inferno moments before, suddenly felt hollow, replaced by a cold, aching despair.
To be hated by him, truly hated, was a far more devastating blow than she had anticipated. All this time, she had clung to the idea that beneath the animosity, there was still something â a flicker of what they once were, a spark of lingering affection, even if it was buried deep under layers of hurt and resentment. But his words, sharp and unequivocal, shattered that illusion.
"You hate me?" she whispered, the fight draining out of her, leaving her voice thin and fragile. Her eyes, still brimming with unshed tears, searched his, desperate for any sign that he didnât truly mean it.
"Yes, Y/N," he affirmed, his voice devoid of emotion, yet somehow more cutting for its flatness. "I hate you. I hate what we became. I hate how much you hurt me, and I hate how much I hurt you. I hate that every time I see you, itâs like reopening an old wound."
The elevator, seemingly sensing the monumental shift in the atmosphere, chose that moment to ding softly, announcing their arrival at the top floor. The doors hissed open, revealing the luxurious, deserted hallway of the penthouse level. The soft lighting and plush carpets seemed to mock the raw, brutal honesty that had just transpired between them.
Neither of them moved. They remained trapped in their bubble, Harry still bracing himself against the wall beside her head, his body a hot, imposing presence. The elevator doors began their slow, inexorable slide shut again.
"Then what are we doing?" Y/N choked out, the question a desperate plea. If they hated each other, truly, irrevocably hated each other, then why were they still standing here, locked in this unbearable proximity, the air thrumming with an electric, dangerous energy that felt far more potent than mere loathing?
Harryâs gaze, which had been unyielding, suddenly dropped to her lips again. It lingered there, a silent, intense scrutiny that made her breath catch in her throat. Her own eyes, despite the fresh welling of tears, were drawn irresistibly to his mouth and the firm, unsmiling line of it, the slight curve of his upper lip that she remembered so vividly from countless kisses.
"I donât know," he rasped, his voice barely audible, the admission thick with a desperation that mirrored her own.
And then, as if an invisible thread snapped between them, he moved. It wasnât a gentle movement, not a tentative reach. It was a sudden, almost violent lurch forward. His hand, which had been against the wall, now clamped around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her head back slightly. The other hand, equally possessive, found her waist, pulling her flush against his hard, unyielding body.
Her mind screamed at her to resist, to push him away, to remind herself of the hatred, the pain, the bitter words that had just been exchanged. But her body, traitorous and alive, betrayed her. A gasp tore from her throat as his mouth, hot and demanding, crashed down on hers.
It was a kiss born of fury and frustration, of two years of unspoken resentments and undeniable, infuriating longing. There was no tenderness, no soft exploration. It was a desperate, punishing embrace, a clash of wills, a battle waged with lips and tongues.
His mouth devoured hers, deep and possessive, his teeth nipping at her lower lip, eliciting a soft moan from her. Her hands, without conscious thought, flew up to grip his shoulders, digging her fingers into the taut muscles beneath his suit jacket.
The hate was there, yes, a searing undercurrent, a bitter taste on her tongue. It fueled the intensity, the desperation of the kiss. But beneath it, indistinguishable from it, was a raw, undeniable passion that roared to life, consuming them both. It was the passion of what was, what could have been, what they had thrown away, and what, despite everything, still burned between them with an almost terrifying ferocity.
She tasted wine and something familiar, a taste Harrybince thought he had long gotten rid up and yet craved ever single time his lips touched anotherâs. His beard, rough against her skin, sent shivers down her spine. The pressure of his body against hers was overwhelming, suffocating, yet she couldnât get enough, she knew that she never would. Not truly.
He pulled her closer still, if that was even possible, until there was no space left between them, until her breasts were crushed against his chest, until her hips met his in a desperate, grinding rhythm that ignited every nerve ending.
He broke the kiss for a split second, just long enough to draw a ragged breath, his forehead resting against hers. His eyes, still stormy, were open, gazing into hers with an intensity that stole her breath. "I hate you," he repeated, the words a guttural whisper, not a declaration, but a desperate, almost pleading acknowledgment of the complicated, destructive force that bound them.
"I hate you too," she gasped back, her voice thick with emotion, her lips bruised and swollen from his kiss.
And then his mouth was on hers again, more urgent, more demanding than before. This time, her hands moved from his shoulders, finding their way to his dark, disheveled hair, tangling in the soft strands, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Her body arched into his, a silent plea for more, for everything, for the release of two years of pent-up desire and unresolved pain.
The elevator doors, which had begun to close again, suddenly opened, revealing the deserted hallway once more. Neither of them noticed. They were lost in their own furious, passionate world, a tempest of hate and desire that threatened to consume them both. The soft elevator music continued to play, a bizarre, ironic soundtrack to the devastating collision of two souls who hated each other, yet couldn't seem to live without the fiery torment of their shared history.
Harry's hands, rough and insistent, slid down her back, pushing the thin fabric of her dress higher until it bunched around her waist. A primal groan rumbled in his chest, echoing the desperate hunger that flared through her.
He lifted her, effortlessly, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels hooking behind his thighs. The sudden shift brought their bodies into even more intimate contact, the friction a searing heat through their clothes.
He didnât break the kiss as he stumbled backward, navigating by instinct, until her back met the cool, unyielding wall of the elevator. The metal was a jarring contrast to the inferno between them. Her fingers, still tangled in his hair, tugged, pulling him closer, demanding more. He responded with a fierce pressure of his hips against hers, a silent promise of what was to come.
The elevator doors, which had once again begun their slow closure, parted with a soft ding, revealing the deserted hallway. But the world outside their small, pulsating bubble ceased to exist. All that mattered was the desperate press of their bodies, the ragged gasps that mingled with the frantic rhythm of their breaths, and the intoxicating taste of each otherâs mouths.
Harry tore his lips from hers, but only to trail a searing path down her jawline, to her neck, biting lightly, sucking fiercely, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. "God, Y/N," he rasped, his voice raw with a mixture of pain and desperate desire. "I hate you for this."
"I hate you too," she choked out, her head falling back against the wall, exposing the delicate line of her throat to his ministrations. Her entire body trembled, not from cold, but from the overwhelming storm of sensation he ignited within her. "I hate you for making me want you."
His hands, restless and urgent, found the zipper of her dress, yanking it down with a sharp rasp. The fabric slid away, pooling around her hips, exposing the lace of her bra, the soft skin of her stomach. He broke away from her neck, his eyes, still stormy and dark, devouring her. A shudder ran through him, a barely controlled tremor.
"You have no idea," he muttered, his voice thick. His fingers fumbled with the delicate lace, and then, with a frustrated growl, he simply ripped it, the sound echoing loudly in the small space. Her breasts spilled into his hands, soft and aching, and a desperate moan escaped her. He lowered his head, suckling fiercely, his tongue tracing fiery patterns on her sensitive skin.
She arched into him, her fingers digging into his scalp, urging him closer. The exquisite torture was almost unbearable. Every nerve ending in her body screamed for more, for the release that only he could provide. The unresolved anger, the years of yearning, the bitter taste of betrayal. It all pooled into this desperate, primal need.
He pulled back, his eyes still locked with hers, a wild, untamed hunger burning in their depths. His own shirt was next, discarded with a single, violent motion, revealing the sculpted expanse of his chest, muscles already flexing just from glancing eyes.
She reached out, her fingers tracing the hard planes of his abs, feeling the tautness of his skin, the rapid beat of his heart beneath her touch. It was a tangible connection to the tempest raging within him.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he kissed her again, this time with a frantic urgency that left her breathless. His hips ground against hers, a desperate rhythm that left no doubt about his intentions. She could feel the hard ridge of his erection pressing against her, a searing heat that promised both pleasure and annihilation.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered, his voice a ragged plea against her lips, even as his hands explored every curve of her body, igniting new fires. "Tell me you don't want this."
"I can't," she gasped, her voice raw, her hands fumbling with the buckle of his belt, desperate to shed the last barriers between them. "I can't, Harry. I hate you, but I want you. God, I want you so much."
The admission, laced with raw honesty, seemed to break something in him. A low groan erupted from his chest, and he scooped her up again, cradling her against him as he turned and pushed through the already open elevator doors. He moved with a predatory grace, striding down the luxurious hallway, his eyes fixed on the door to his suite.
She buried her face in his neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of him â his aftershave, his sweat, the musky scent of raw desire. Her legs tightened around his waist, her body a trembling mess of anticipation and fear. This wasn't love. This wasn't even reconciliation. This was a desperate, destructive explosion of two souls who were irrevocably bound by a history of pain and a relentless, undeniable attraction.
He kicked open the door to his suite with a resounding thud, plunging them into the soft glow of a dimly lit, opulent room. The heavy curtains were drawn, casting the space in a sensual twilight. He didn't bother with the bed. Instead, he carried her to the nearest wall, pinning her against it, his mouth crashing down on hers once more.
His hands slid under her dress, tearing at her underwear, the delicate fabric offering little resistance. A frustrated growl rumbled in his throat as he finally freed her, his fingers brushing against her slick, aching core. A shudder ran through her, a desperate whimper escaping her lips.
He pulled back, his eyes dark with a primal hunger, his breathing ragged. He fumbled with his own jeans, shedding them with a desperate urgency that mirrored her own. Then, without a word, he nudged her legs wider, pressing himself against her, the heat of his hard cock a brand against her skin.
"Harry," she whispered, her voice a plea, a command, a desperate surrender.
He didn't answer with words. Instead, with a raw, guttural groan, he plunged into her.
A gasp tore from her throat, a mix of pain and exquisite pleasure. It had been so long, too long. The initial tightness gave way to a thrilling fullness, a searing heat that consumed her. He pushed deeper, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency, setting a rhythm that was both punishing and profoundly satisfying.
Her hands, still tangled in his hair, clutched him tighter, pulling him closer, desperate for every inch. Her body arched into his, meeting his thrusts with an instinctive, primal response. The anger, the hatred, the resentment, it was all still there. A bitter undercurrent, but it was being subsumed by the overwhelming tide of physical sensation.
He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, his breathing harsh and labored. "God, Y/N," he panted, his voice thick with emotion. "This is... this is insane."
"I know," she whispered back, tears finally stinging her eyes, a mixture of shame and exhilaration. "I know."
He opened his eyes, and the dark green was still there, but now, beneath the fury, she could see a flicker of something raw, something vulnerable. He kissed her then, not with the punishing demand of before, but with a desperate tenderness that melted her resolve. It was a kiss that spoke of regret, of longing, of a complicated love that refused to die.
He moved with a frantic urgency now, each thrust deeper, more desperate, pushing her to the brink. Her body convulsed around him, a silent scream of pleasure and pain. She cried out, his name a ragged gasp on her lips as she shattered, waves of intense sensation rippling through her.
"You're so tight, Y/N," he rasped, his voice raw with triumph, burying his face in her neck, teeth gently nipping. "So fucking good. Like you were made for this. Made for me."
He groaned, a primal roar of release, and then followed her, collapsing against her, his weight a comforting, heavy presence. They remained there, pressed against the cool wall, bodies slick with sweat, breaths coming in ragged gasps, the echoes of their furious passion slowly fading into the silence of the room.
"Look at what you do to me," he muttered against her damp skin, his voice still hoarse, a tremor running through him. "You break me, and then you put me back together. You're the only one who can."
The hatred was still there, a dull ache beneath the surface, but so was something else. Something undeniable. Something that had just been unleashed with a devastating, beautiful force. The silence in the room was thick with unspoken truths, with the lingering ghost of their complicated history, and the raw, undeniable evidence of their destructive, undeniable connection.
pairing. longhair!harry x fem!reader (y/n pov) warnings and content. pure fluff, soft harry, kisses, clingy, use of pet names, lap sitting. word count. 1,619 summary. after a long and tiring day, y/n comes home to a very clingy harry. having no idea why, sheâs just wanting to relax but harry isnât having it.
I shoved the apartment door open with my shoulder, arms weighed down by my bag, jacket slipping halfway off one arm. The smell of coffee hit me first, warm and sharp, like Harry had just brewed a fresh pot. My whole body ached from the dayâfeet throbbing, brain fried, and the only thing I wanted was a shower and maybe ten minutes of silence before I collapsed into bed.
But the moment I stepped inside, I didnât get silence. I got Harry.
âBaby?â His voice carried from the couch, low and eager, the way it did when heâd been waiting for me. Before I could even drop my bag, he was already up and moving toward me. His long hair was a wild mess, curling around his jaw and brushing his shoulders, and his hoodie hung loose on his tall frame.
âHey,â I sighed, trying to toe off my shoes without falling over. âRough day. Iââ
I didnât even finish the sentence. Harryâs arms were around me in an instant, pulling me into his chest so tightly I almost lost balance.
âMissed you,â he murmured, burying his face in the side of my neck. His hair tickled my cheek, and I felt the warmth of his breath on my skin.
I let out a breathy laugh, surprised. âMissed me? I left at eight this morning, H. Itâs onlyââ I tilted my head to glance at the clock on the wall. ââseven.â
âThatâs too long,â he said immediately, not loosening his hold. He smelled like the coffee he mustâve made and the faint cologne I loved, the one that lingered on our pillows.
I frowned lightly, my hands still caught between us. Harry was affectionate, always had been, but this? This was different. This was clingy, almost desperate. His chest pressed against me like he wanted to mold us into one shape, like letting me go was unbearable.
âYou okay?â I asked softly, finally dropping my bag to the floor so I could slide my arms around him.
âNo,â he said, voice muffled against my neck. âNot really. Needed you today.â
That made my heart stutter. I leaned back enough to see his face, and sure enough, his green eyes were darker than usual, wide and almost boyish in their vulnerability. His lips parted like he was about to explain himself, but instead, he kissed meâquick, urgent, like he was afraid Iâd disappear before he could.
I blinked, pulling back a little. âHarry, whatâs going on? Youâreâclingy.â
âDonât like that word,â he pouted, squeezing me tighter. âJust love you. Love you too much, maybe. âS all.â
I laughed softly, brushing his messy hair out of his face. âYou always love me. But youâre acting like Iâve been gone for weeks.â
âFeels like it,â he admitted quietly, eyes dropping to my lips again before kissing me once more, slower this time, like he wanted to savor it. His hands slid down to grip my hips, holding me in place, grounding himself.
âBabyâŚâ I whispered against his mouth, confused but not exactly complaining.
He just shook his head and pressed another kiss to my jaw, then my cheek, then my forehead, like he couldnât stop himself. âCanât help it. Just⌠couldnât wait for you to come home. Didnât feel right in here without you.â
My chest ached at that. Harry, my long-haired, confident, cheeky boyfriend, looked almost small in the way he clung to me, like the world had been too heavy while I was gone. And now, with me here, he was desperate to stitch himself back together with every kiss and touch.
I slid my fingers into his hair, tugging gently until he tilted his head back enough for me to kiss him properly. He sighed into it, like Iâd just given him oxygen, his arms wrapping even tighter.
âCâmon,â I whispered against his lips. âLet me put my stuff down, and then you can be all over me, yeah?â
But he just shook his head, refusing to let go, chin hooking over my shoulder as he whispered, âNo. Donât wanna wait anymore. Need you now.â
His arms stayed locked around me as if Iâd vanish the second he loosened his grip. Every time I shifted like I might pull away, he just tucked me closer, his long hair brushing against my face as he buried his nose into my neck again.
âHarry,â I murmured, smoothing my hands over his back. âAt least let me get changedââ
âNo,â he mumbled, shaking his head against me. His voice was hoarse, stubborn, almost childlike. âDonât care what youâre wearing. Just want you here.â
I blinked, caught between exasperation and a laugh. He was ridiculousâmy tall, broad, long-haired boyfriend wrapped around me like an overgrown vine. His hoodie hung off his shoulders, sleeves swallowing his hands as he gripped me like a lifeline.
âYouâre acting like I just came back from war,â I teased, though my voice softened around the edges.
He leaned back just enough to meet my eyes, green gaze unguarded, almost pleading. âFeels like it, lovie.â
That melted me. Completely.
I sighed, pressing a kiss to his jaw, then another to the corner of his mouth. âAlright, come on, then. If youâre gonna cling to me, letâs at least sit down before my legs give out.â
ââM not lettinâ you go,â he warned, voice low but tinged with a smile.
And he didnât.
Harry practically carried me toward the couch, arms tight, my feet barely shuffling along the floor until we collapsed onto the cushions. He pulled me into his lap immediately, positioning me sideways with my legs draped across his. His hands traced up and down my back, slow, steady strokes that felt more like grounding than anything else.
The TV was still on, muted, but his attention never wavered from me. He kissed my shoulder, my cheek, the top of my head, like he couldnât stopâeven when I giggled and squirmed.
âHarryyy,â I laughed, swatting at his chest gently. âWhatâs gotten into you?â
He only hummed, resting his forehead against mine. âMissed your laugh. Missed your smell. Missed the way you make the place feel alive. Canât explain it, love. Just⌠didnât like beinâ without you today.â
My throat tightened, and I smoothed my hand through his hair, twirling a soft curl around my finger. âYouâre so dramatic.â
He grinned, but it was soft, vulnerable. âMaybe. But âs true.â
And then he kissed me again. Not rushed this timeâslow, unhurried, lingering until I melted into him completely. His lips moved against mine with so much care it nearly broke me.
When he finally pulled back, he tucked me under his chin and whispered, âStay here with me, yeah? Donât wanna let go tonight.â
Something about the way he said itâquiet, raw, like a confessionâmade me realize this wasnât just clinginess. It was need. Whatever had been weighing on him today, whatever had left him restless and waiting, I was the answer heâd been aching for.
So I tightened my arms around his neck and pressed closer. âIâm not going anywhere.â
Harry exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing for the first time since I walked through the door. And just like that, he melted into meâhis breathing syncing with mine, his hands never stopping their slow, steady movements along my back, as though keeping me close was the only thing that could steady him.
AN: this is the second addition to me using up old drafts. i started this back in july of 2023. finally got around to finishing it. it's a long one. so sit back and relax and enjoy reading. don't forget to leave me your feedback. it's always appreciated. xoxo
This story contains: sub/dom roles, use of butt plugs, mentions of handcuffs, mentions of subspace, pegging, comfort, fluff
Harry shyly asks you to peg him one night and after a few days of preparation, the night comes where you peg him just as he requested.
Harry, your incredible husband Harry. He's the best thing that's ever happened to you. Well, aside from your children, but they're also half his dna also. Harry is the shining light in your life. He's gentle and nurturing. So kind and loving. However, when it comes to sex, he's a kinky man. You don't participate in anything too extreme, but your sex life does include blindfolds, handcuffs, and a variety of sex toys ranging from vibrators, cock rings, and butt plugs.
Now, when it comes to who's dominate and who's submissive, you're both switches, meaning both of you can play either role at certain times. Most of the time, Harry naturally leans towards the more dominant role in bed, but sometimes they'll be days where he just needs you to take control. Days where he feels physically and mentally spent, and doesn't want the responsibility of taking charge in the bedroom.
While Harry usually appears to be a confident person, he tends to feel shy when it comes to requesting for you to take charge. By requesting, I mean that several days in advance, Harry will ask if you would, you know, essentially peg him. For him as a man, he feels the need to be ready for that kind of sex. It unfortunately can't be something you decide to do on a whim.
Harry has to make sure he's properly groomed, although he usually does that anyways. Typically, he only trims his pubic hair and shaves completely during the summer months. However, when he's planning to be pegged, he will shave his ass completely. Because in his mind, it's only courtesy so you're not having to fuck a hairy asshole.
He'll also ensure that in the days leading up to you pegging him, he uses a variety of butt plugs. Since pegging isn't something that he gets often, he needs to be very prepared for the occasion. Also, he has to remember to use an anal douche beforehand. His greatest fear is to accidentally get shit on you.
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It's Tuesday night, you've just settled down in bed together after putting your kids to sleep with bedtime stories and lullabies. You and Harry finished showering and are now snuggled up under the thick duvet covers. No matter how old you get, the cuddling never ends. Harry is one of the most affectionate people you know, especially when he's tired.
In the complete darkness of your bedroom, Harry places his head on your chest, his top leg draped between yours, while you delicately comb through his damp brown curls using just your fingers. He finds your touch incredibly calming.
Suddenly breaking the silence of the white noise, you whisper, "I love you." to your very soft husband.
Harry replies in a quiet voice, "Love you too, baby." Then, he takes a deep breath and finds the courage he typically needs when asking you the question that's currently lingering in his mind. He doesn't know why he always feels so nervous making this request, especially since you're so eager to oblige. "And, um, hey, um..."
You sleepily giggle at his nervous stutter. "Yes, babe?"
Harry continues nervously, "Do you, um, think that maybe this Friday, we could, um, I mean you could, um, *heavy breath* use the strap-on on me? Please?" He softly whispers that last part. Fuck, how did you get so lucky in marrying this man. And yes, MAN, because getting pegged is a very manly thing to want in your opinion.
You tilt your head down to softly kiss his forehead before saying, "Of course, Harry. You know I'm always up for pegging you. But can I ask what's put you in the mood for it this time? Because usually whenever you ask me to peg you, there's a reason for it."
"I donno," he shrugs, "just been very stressed at work. Don't get me wrong, I love being a teacher, but with the way the school board is about what we can and can't teach, it's so restrictive and I feel like I'm not teachin' my students the important stuff."
"Awe," you coo softly, "I'm sorry you feel that way. And thank you for talking with me. I love when you share things like that with me. Please know you can always talk to me. I'll always listen. But yeah, I can take charge Friday. Help you take the edge off. We just need to ask your mum if the kids can stay the night with her."
"M'kay, I'll call her in the mornin'. And thank you for lovin' and takin' care of me." Harry states with a drowsy tone. He nestles his face closer to you, resting it against your warm skin, and before drifting off to sleep, he plants a gentle kiss on the side of your neck, causing butterflies to dance in your stomach.
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By Thursday night, everything was set for the plans on the following evening. Harry had taken a longer shower than normal to shave his ass smoothly and then went to your shared closet to select another butt plug. He'd used a butt plug the night before, Wednesday night, but this one would be a bit larger in preparation for the size of the strap-on. The last time he was pegged was around three months ago, so he needed to prepare to ensure he wouldn't experience any pain.
After picking up the largest butt plug, he closes the closet door and makes his way to the bed where you're reading. When you lift your gaze from the pages, you see a naked Harry at the side of the bed, holding the black silicone plug with a diamond on the end and a bottle of lube in his other hand. "Will you do the honours?"
A gentle smile erupts on your face and you answer softy, "Of course, H. Do you want to do it how we did it last night where you're on your back, or do you wanna do it in doggy, on your knees?"
"Um, doggy this time please." Harry answers. He gets onto the bed and positions himself while you retrieve all the items from him. With half of his face pressed into the mattress, he lifts his bum into the air and uses his hands to separate his cheeks for you. Thank god you remember to lock your bedroom door at night. If one of your kids were to walk in and find their father in such a position, it would undoubtedly traumatize them for life.
You get into position behind him and prep the butt plug with a generous amount of lube. Than rub the excess lube around his tight hole. "Fuck!" Harry hisses out, "it's cold."
Bending down, you gently kiss his lower back to soothe him. "Shh, I know, I know. Just relax for me. Are you ready?" He nods his head and hums a, "yes" for a verbal confirmation. You position the tip of the plug at his entrance and gradually insert it. Harry buries his face deeper into the bedding to muffle his moans. You start slowly, but once you're halfway in, you choose to bite the bullet and fully insert the butt plug.
Harry's knees buckle, causing his entire body to collapse onto the mattress. His knuckles are visibly white from the tight grip he has on the duvet. You gently pat his right cheek and whisper, "Alright, all done." Rising from the bed, you head towards your dresser to retrieve a pair of dry panties, while Harry remains motionless, but his eyes track your every move.
"Hey, what'r you doin'?" he calls out.
Slightly embarrassed, you reply, "Changing my underwear."
"Wh.... Oh," then it clicks in Harry's brain, "puttin' the butt plug in me made you wet didn't it? Got my baby soaked. Come 'ere. I'll clean you up." With that, Harry lays you on the bed and begins licking you clean, the diamond on the butt plug shining from his ass. He cleans up you while also providing you with two solid orgasms in the process.
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It's currently Friday night. Your kids are at their Nan's house, leaving you and Harry home alone together. As Harry readies himself in the bathroom with an anal douche, you prepare the bedroom. You spread several towels across the bed. You go to your sex drawer in your closet to fetch the strap-on meant for Harry. Yes, it's pink, and so what? Pink can be very masculine if you wish it to be. Next, you grab the lube and a pair of handcuffs, which may or may not come into play tonight. The handcuffs, that is. The lube will definitely be used.
When Harry comes walking out the bathroom, you ask, "Ready?"
"Mhm, yeah," he replies. Rather than taking a seat on the bed, he waits patiently for you to tell him what to do or where to go. After all, you're the one in charge tonight. However, even though Harry enjoys you being dominate, and you take pleasure in it from time to time, you find it difficult, because being charge doesn't come naturally to you. Therefore, you have to keep reminding yourself that you're in charge when the time comes to be dominate.
"You can lie down on your back to start, baby." you instruct, and he immediately follows your lead. The exact moment you called him baby, Harry's head starts spinning. When you take charge and use endearing terms towards him, it's one of the fastest ways for him to possibly enter subspace. For Harry, the process of entering subspace is inconsistent. He doesn't always achieve subspace when being submissive; it simply depends on the level of your interaction with him.
To start out, you just want to tease him, get him in the mood. You climb on the bed and straddle his lap. His hard and fully erect penis stands upright, grazing the front of your lingerie that you've chosen to wear for tonight. While gently rocking your clothed clit against Harry's erection, you lean down to leave soft hickeys and kisses along his jaw, then move down towards his chest. You make sure they're no lingering marks on the visible parts of his skin since he can't go to work as a teacher covered in hickeys, and you also wish to prevent your children from noticing and questioning him about what the big blotchy bruises on his skin are.
As you grind against him, your lips brushing his skin, Harry is already a mess. Moans escape his lips freely, and precum oozes onto his belly. He revels in the feeling of you being on top of him in this manner. Your lips descend lower and lower until they reach the pool of precum, and being the naughty woman you are, you lick it all up in a single sweep of your tongue, maintaining eye contact with him. The sight nearly causes Harry to come immediately.
Keeping his precum in your mouth, you sit upright and grab his cock with your hands, then let that sticky liquid trickle down the side of his shaft. Harry releases the loudest moan of the night, and you beam with pride. The hand that's holding his cock starts to gradually stroke along his slippery shaft, making him melt into the mattress. "Do you like that, sweetheart? Am I making you feel so good?"
Harry can only respond with, "Yeah," his eyes turning glossy. You're providing him with so much pleasure. As soon as you observe that he's showing signs of an orgasm, you halt your hands on his dick and command, "Get on your knees, baby. Up you go."
Feeling a bit hazy in his head, Harry attempts to turn around, getting onto his hands and knees in a doggy position like you ask of him. The wobbling of his limbs however, creates a humorous sight. After he gets into position, you speak reassuringly to affirm that he's doing so well for you. "Perfect, baby. Listen to me so well, don't you? Ready for me to fuck you? Fuck that tight ass of yours?"
As he lowers his head to the mattress, Harry moans, "Yes, please. I want it so badly." Happy with his response, you retract your right hand and then swing it forward to deliver a slap to one of his pale butt cheeks. Generally, you don't engage in slapping during sex, but Harry has gave you prior consent to spank him when you're in charge. It doesn't hurt him whatsoever. Instead, it turns him on even more. "Fuck!" he growls.
You lean down to kiss the skin that's now bright red from your handprint, before opting to end the teasing and grab the strap-on. You attach it to your waist and tighten the straps to guarantee it stays put, no matter how intensely you're thrusting. You pick up the bottle of lube and squeeze some into your hands. Then generously cover the dildo with lube and apply the excess to his puckering hole, prompting Harry to cry out due to the coldness of the liquid.
Once you're prepared, you softly question, "Ready, baby?"
Harry turns his head slightly to ensure you can hear him and replies, "Yes, m'so fuckin' ready." You kneel behind him, gripping the shaft of the pink dildo attached to your strap-on, and position it at Harry's ass. Then, being extra careful, you begin to insert it. "Ahhgh," is all he manages to say, feeling the stretch. This fake cock is larger than the butt plugs he'd used, but the difference isn't enough to cause him any pain.
After a minute or two, the strap-on is fully inserted, you pause briefly to allow him to get use to it before moving. As soon as you feel Harry attempting to thrust against the dildo himself, you know he's ready, therefore you start thrusting. You grasp his hips for stability and try your best to keep a consistent rhythm, despite your thrusting techniques not being the most proficient. Positioned on your knees, you thrust forward and retract repeatedly.
"Does it feel good, Harry? Do you like getting your ass fucked by me?"
He groans into the pillow with a nod of his head, but you weren't having that. You stop thrusting, causing Harry to cry out. "What'd you stop for?"
With a more authoritative tone, you speak, "I asked you a question. Answer me with your words!"
With what little strength Harry has left, he holds his upper body up with his forearms and finally replies properly, "Yes, yes! Feels s'good, baby. Love gettin' fucked by you. Only you." You can start to hear the slow progression of his slurring speech.
"Good boy." you say in praise, and those two simple words nearly bring Harry to orgasm hands free. His penis isn't being touched by hands, but his tip grazes the sheets below with each thrust you deliver. The longer you peg him, the more disoriented Harry becomes. You notice his muscles are just moments away from failing him, and he's whispering gibberish into the pillow soaked with tears.
Not wanting to completely stop, but slowing down your thrusts, you advise, "K baby, want you on your back now. I'm gonna have to pull out for a second to help you turn around." Though Harry knows he can't hold himself up in doggy any longer, the task of turning around sounds too draining as well, but he follows your instructions nonetheless.
You slowly bring yourself to a stop and pull back, watching as his hole tightens around nothing. You hold onto his slender waist and help him roll on his back. Once Harry's back is on the mattress, you see the full extent of just how wrecked he is. His face is bright red with tear stains on his cheeks. His eyes aren't focusing on you completely, it's more of a hazy look he gives.
You grab onto his meaty thighs and spread them apart, pushing right back in without warning this time. "Oh, fuck!" Harry shouts. It's not painful, the stretch makes him feel full again. You go straight into thrusting, holding his legs on each side of your hips as you get into a rhythm again.
As your body becomes fatigued from the exersise pegging gives, you instruct Harry, "Touch yourself, baby. Wrap your fist around that pretty cock of yours and make yourself come." His head may be cloudy but he doesn't need to be told twice to touch his cock. He just barley lifts his head off the pillow and looks down as his hand grasps around his shaft and begins jerking himself off.
That's when you nearly come hands free, the sight turning you more than anything else from tonight. You've always secretly loved watching Harry touch himself. It's so hot.
When he feels himself almost on the edge, he quietly begs, "Can I come? Please, need to come so bad!"
With a sweaty smile, you reply, out of breath, "Go ahead, baby. Come on your tummy and chest. Make yourself come for me." You begin to make deeper thrusts instead of fast, in and out thrusts, making Harry's jaw drop open. His hand speeds up on his cock, and within seconds of you giving him permission to come, he lets go.
Harry spurts hot jizz across his belly, landing on the butterfly tattoo in the center of his chest. His head is thrown back and his eyes are screwed shut as his body trembles from his orgasm. After what felt like an eternity of emptying his balls out, his hand relaxes on his slowly softening dick and his body falls lax on the bed. You slowly come to a halt with the strap-on, but stay inside of him so he can calm down slowly.
You help Harry unlock his legs from around your waist and drop them to the mattress. Your hands run up and down his muscular legs, trying to help relax his tense muscles. Once you feel he's settled enough, you calmly annonce, "I'm gonna pull out now, okay."
As you go to look down to watch what you're doing, you feel Harry's hands reach for you. Looking up confused, he explains before you have a chance to question, "Hands. Wanna hold hands while you pull out, pleaseee." Ohhh, clingy Harry has made an appearance. When Harry plays the sub, he either goes into subspace, or is just super clingy after a scene. Sometimes both. You can't tell if he's in subspace right now, but you can tell he's getting very clingy towards you.
You reach for his hands and interlock his sweaty palms with yours, then slowly pull your hips back until the strap-on is fully out his ass. You release one of his hands to reach down and unbuckle the strap-on from around your waist, then toss it towards the foot of the bed. "Cuddles?" Harry breaks the rooms silence, saying it as more of a question rather than a statement.
Laughing, you reply, "Yes, we can cuddle. But first, let me go grab a warm cloth to clean you up with."
You climb off the bed and walk to the bathroom to fetch two warm cloths. One for his chest and one for his ass. You then step back into the bedroom and proceed to clean him up. As you begin wiping the cum off his chest and the lube around his ass, you quietly ask, "Are you in subspace, H?" You know if he truly was in subspace, he wouldn't be able to give you a proper answer to that question. Because when he's in subspace, he doesn't realize he's in subspace until he's came out of it.
Harry shakes his head and answers honestly, "No, just wanna be close to you." You're kind of relieved he isn't in subspace because that means you don't have to wait around for his mind to come back. Sometimes that can be stressful.
"Okay, almost done, baby." You finish cleaning him up and toss the dirtied rags to the side. "Lift up so we can get under the covers." He lifts his body as much as he can, and you pull the comforter back so he can get under the covers. You bring the strap-on to the bathroom to be cleaned tomorrow and strip out of your lingerie set, before coming back and getting in bed beside Harry. You turn the lamp off and scoot over to cuddle up to him, since he requested to be close tonight. Both of you now completely naked.
Before he has a chance to fall asleep, you ask, "Was it alright? I'm not the best pegger out there so hopefully it was okay for you."
Grinning in the dark, Harry replies, "It was amazin'. And you're the best pegger I've ever had."
"I'm the only one who's pegged you."
"True, but I just know you're the best at it. You're the best at everythin'. Love you lots."
Nearly asleep with your head laying over his shoulder, you whisper, "Love you lots too, Harry."
(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)
(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! some people who've requested to be added doesn't allow me to @ you. please check your settings first.)
CW: Unprotected sex, Fluff, Dom/sub, slight breeding kink, cream pie, dirty talk, oral (f & m receiving), slight fingering, slight size kink, slight nipple play (probably more, i do not wanna read it all again.)
Y/N wants a baby, but she didnât know that harry felt the same way..
๨ŕ§
The quiet in your shared bedroom was comfortable. Familiar. The golden afternoon light painted soft lines across the bed, where Harry lay with a book in his hand and a gentle crease between his brows, totally focused on the page.
You were sitting at the end of the bed, legs crossed, pretending to scroll on your phoneâbut your mind had been miles away for the last twenty minutes.
You had rehearsed the sentence in your head a hundred different ways.
âHarry, Iâve been thinkingâŚâ
âWhat would you say ifâŚâ
âSo, I saw this baby video todayâŚâ
But nothing came out. Not yet.
Because it felt big.
Not just what you were about to say, but how long youâd been quietly holding it inside. Every time you saw him with your nieces and nephews. Every time you walked past the little boutique downtown with the tiny shoes in the window. Every time he laughed and looked at you like you were the only girl in the world.
You wanted to see what his love would look like wrapped up in soft curls and dimpled cheeks. You wanted a part of him sleeping in your arms.
You wanted his baby.
And you didnât know how to say that without shattering the moment.
âAlright over there?â Harry asked suddenly, voice soft and accented, not looking up from his book.
You blinked.
âYeah. Just thinking.â
He lowered the book slightly, giving you that lookâeyebrow raised, corners of his mouth twitching. âDangerous thing for you to be doing.â
You let out a quiet laugh, but your hands were still nervously twisting in your lap.
Harry sat up fully now, shutting his book and tossing it gently to the nightstand.
âY/N.â
You looked up.
He was serious now. Curious. Concerned.
And still so beautiful it made your throat tighten.
You took a breath.
âI want to talk to you about something,â you said slowly. âBut Iâm scared youâll think Iâve lost my mind.â
âTry me,â he said, already inching closer, his hand finding your knee and squeezing it gently. âI married you, didnât I? Mustâve known you were halfway to insane.â
You huffed out a soft laugh again, but it cracked just slightly.
Your eyes met his.
And then you said it.
âI want a baby.â
Silence.
Your heart thumped so loudly it felt like it echoed in your chest. You looked down, afraid of the look on his faceâafraid heâd be shocked or startled or unsure. You tried to backpedal, words rushing out too fast.
âI meanânot this second, obviously. And only if you want to. I justâI keep thinking about it and I feel likeâlike something in me aches for it, Harry. But Iâd never push it on you, I promise, itâs justââ
He cut you off by sliding his hands to your waist, pulling you gently into his lap.
You blinked at him, startled, as his hands came up to cradle your face.
âI want one too,â he said.
You froze.
âWhat?â
His thumbs brushed under your eyes like he was afraid you might cry.
âIâve wanted one,â he whispered. âFor a long time now. Was just waiting on you to bring it up.â
You stared at him, breath catching.
âWhy didnât you say anything?â
ââCause I didnât want you to feel pressured,â he said with a small smile. âDidnât wanna make you think I needed more than this life we already built. I already have everything, Y/N. But if we get to raise something thatâs half me, half you?â
His voice went soft. Honest.
âI think Iâd lose my mind loving that little thing.â
You burst into tears.
Of course you did.
Harry laughed gently and pressed his forehead to yours, wiping your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.
âOh, baby,â he whispered, kissing your nose. âWeâre gonna be the best parents. You know that?â
You nodded, sniffling. âYou think?â
He nodded firmly. âI know.â
And in the quiet that followed, your hands found his. Fingers interlocking. Hearts thudding in perfect sync.
Because for the first time in a long time, something that felt impossible suddenly felt right.
You were still sniffling softly against his chest, his arms warm and protective around you, when he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes again.
His smile was crooked.
A little smug.
A little dangerous.
âSo,â he said slowly, eyes flicking down to your lips, âdoes this mean youâre interested in⌠starting now?â
Your mouth fell open.
âWhat?â you squeaked, eyes wide.
He grinnedâthat grinâthe one that meant he was about to ruin you in the most loving, emotionally destabilizing way.
âI mean, weâre married,â he said casually, brushing his thumb across your lower lip. âWeâre healthy. In love. Mad about each other. You just told me you want my baby.â
Your heart thumped.
Hard.
âHarryââ
âAnd I want yours,â he added, voice lower now, fingers trailing gently down your side. âSo why not now?â
You blinked at him.
You were still in a hoodie and leggings, with tear-streaked cheeks and your hair in a bun that was half falling outâbut the way he was looking at you, none of that mattered.
He looked hungry.
Not just for you.
But for the life youâd just asked for.
âFor real?â you asked, voice small. âLike⌠youâd actually try? Right now?â
His hand slid under your hoodie, palm warm on your stomach.
âSweetheart,â he said gently, âIâve been dreaming about you pregnant with my baby since before we even said âI do.â I just didnât want to scare you off.â
Your breath caught.
âI thought Iâd have to convince you someday,â he added with a laugh, âbut here you are, crying in my arms because you want it too.â
You laughed through the emotionâbecause it was so you, and he knew it, and he loved it.
âGod, youâre serious,â you whispered.
He kissed your jaw.
Then your temple.
Then your lips.
âDead serious,â he murmured. âSo Iâll ask againââ
He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear.
âYou wanna start now?â
Your whole body shivered.
And after a beat of stunned silence, you whispered back:
ââŚYeah.â
As she stayed straddling him, thighs bracketing his hips, your palms planted on his chest. His skin was hot beneath your touch, his heartbeat wild, erratic. He stared up at you like he couldnât breathe without permission.
âY/NâŚâ he rasped, voice hoarse.
You tilted your head, lips ghosting over his.
Then you sat back on him. Not taking him inânot yetâjust grinding down, soft and slow, through the thin cotton of your panties. His cock, hot and heavy, pressed right against you.
His head dropped back. A strangled moan escaped him.
You rocked again.
And again.
Letting your eyes fall shut, savoring every flicker of friction, every twitch of him beneath you.
âThis what you wanted? you want to feel me ontop of you as imagine me getting pregnant?â
He whimpered, hands clutching her hips, aching to fuck you, but he learned to let you take control sometimes in the bedroom and he loved it.
You leaned in, finally kissing him.
It was filthyâtongues and teeth and gasps between your lips. Desperate and slick and too much.
Then you pulled back, breathless.
You slowly grinded on him as you watched his face, his cheeked flushed from want, and desire. His veins in his arms poking out from him holding your hips hard, not guiding you, just there as if he needs to ground himself.
âthat feel good, baby?â you ask a little breathlessly, and he nodded as he leaned forward to kiss your neck, just anything to maintain some control as you grinded on his cock very teasingly, he knew better than to rush you.
And then, after one particularly slow, hard grind, you moaned his name.
âHarryâŚâ
He broke.
âFuckâI canâtâIâm gonna comeââ he panted against her throat as he sucked on it and growled quietly as his hands were now guiding her movements slowly.
ânot yetâi want something else first..â you said as you pulled your panties to the side and he immediately got the hint, âPut that mouth to use.â
And he did.
He devoured you.
Dragged you down onto his face like heâd been starving for years and finally had his first meal. Groaning, gripping your thighs, tongue lapping, lips sucking. You sat up, one hand in his hair, rocking against his mouth with a moan.
âThatâs it, baby,â he praised, sounding wrecked and needy. âGod, this is the best fucking pussy iâve ever had.â he groaned as he added two fingers into the mix, slowly pumping them in and out as he sucked on your clit.
âYâgonna come for me? make a mess of my face? hm? cmon darling, be a good girl and make a mess for me..â he begged as he pulled his fingers out and fucked his tongue into you.
When you finally cameâshaking, loud, pulling his curls tight in your fistsâhe moaned beneath you like he had come, too.
âthere we go.. my good fucking girl..â he praised as he slowly guided her through her orgasm.
He sat up after you got overly sensitive as he rubbed over your inner thighs with his larger hands splayed out and keeping your thighs separated.
âthink we need to take this off..â *he said as he helped you sit up and pull your shirt off, as he admired your braless state, your perky breasts perfect and waiting for him.
âharry..â you whined quietly, he almost missed it, but his dark green lust filled eyes looked up into yours.
âwhat is it baby? use your words for me.â he said in his now raspy and slightly husky voice.
You instead reached forward and tugged on his sweatpants, as you looked at him with needy eyes.
âyou gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.â he said as he ran his hands up your sides as his thumbs rested just on the underside of her breasts, not touching, just waiting for her words.
âwant your cock.â you said.
He didnât know if he could get any harder, but if he could, he probably wouldâve right now.
âYeah? Want me to get you pregnant?â he ask as he pushed off his sweatpants and the could see the thick outline through his boxersâhard and heavy, pressed against the fabric of his briefs with a pulse of desperate need. Thick, hot, and aching, it strained for attention, for touch, for her. Every throb of just how badly he wanted to be inside her.
âtake it out for me baby.â he said rather huskily.
Your breath caught as you settled between his legs, the room quiet except for the low hum of his breathing. Harry leaned back against the headboard, legs parted just enough, eyes hooded as he watched you every move like you were the only thing tethering him to this moment.
Her fingers trailed down his bare stomach, slow and deliberate, until they hooked into the waistband of his boxers. He hissed through his teeth, hips twitching at the first brush of her knuckles.
âGo on, love,â he rasped, voice thick. âTake it out. You know itâs all yours.â
She swallowed, heart pounding as she tugged the waistband down slowly. Inch by inch, his cock was revealedâthick, flushed, and impossibly hard, heavy against his lower abdomen. Your eyes widened slightly, not because it was unfamiliar, but because somehow, every time felt like the first.
Veins traced along the length, the tip already slick, pulsing with quiet urgency. He was beautiful like thisâbare, wanting, unashamed.
You wrapped your fingers around him gently, the heat of him startling, the weight familiar. He let out a low groan, his hand fisting the sheets, hips twitching again as your thumb slid across the head in a featherlight stroke.
âYou drive me mad,â he murmured, eyes never leaving hers. âJust like that.â
Your fingers tightened slightly around him, stroking once, twice, before you leaned forward, lips parting as your breath warmed the sensitive skin of his tip. Harryâs hand shot out to grip the back of your neckânot to stop you, but to feel grounded. Anchored. Because the second your mouth touched him, he knew he was in trouble.
You were slow. Devastatingly slow.
Your tongue traced a lazy circle, teasing him, tasting him, before you finally took him into your mouth. Just the tip at firstâgentle, deliberate. Your lips wrapped around him, cheeks hollowing slightly as you sucked with just enough pressure to make his eyes roll back.
âFuck, Avi,â he groaned, head falling against the headboard. His abs flexed under your palms. âYouâre gonna ruin me.â
You hummed around him, smug, your eyes flicking up to meet hisâand that look alone almost undid him. He couldnât breathe right. Couldnât think.
You took more of him, inch by inch, letting him slide deeper, your tongue swirling with every movement, keeping eye contact the entire time.
His thighs tensed. His breath caught.
And just when he felt the burn startâthat overwhelming rise in pressure, the dizzying loss of controlâhis hand fisted in your hair, tugging gently but firmly.
âStop,â he rasped.
You froze, looking up, lips still wrapped around him, confused and flushed.
âNot like this,â he panted, pulling you up. âI wanna finish inside you. Where it counts.â
Your breath hitched.
And the way he kissed you thenâwet, deep, full of everything he was holding backâleft no doubt about what was coming next.
Harry didnât waste a second. He grabbed your hips, lifting you just enough to line himself up perfectly, then slammed into you hard and deep. The force stole your breath, your body arching instinctively beneath him.
âYou feel that, baby?â he growled, voice rough and thick with desire. âYouâre so fucking tight, taking me so damn well.â
You gasped, trying to catch your breath, but all you could manage was a shaky moan. your hands clenched into fists on the sheets as he hammered into you, relentless and merciless.
âLook at you, whining already,â Harry whispered in your ear, teeth grazing your skin. âCanât handle me? Iâm just getting started.â
He leaned down and took one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth as he sucked on it and flicked his tongue over your nipple, as he pounded into with great force that left you squirming and crying out.
Your throat tightened, words slipping away with every brutal thrust. You wanted to speakâto beg or curse or scream his nameâbut the raw pounding left you gasping, barely able to form a single syllable.
âThatâs it,â he hissed as he took his mouth off of her nipple leaving a red mark, voice low and filthy. âLet the fuckinâ feel take over. Youâre mineâgonna ride this hard cock until youâre begging for mercy.â
You shook your head weakly, tears pricking at your eyes from the overwhelming sensation.
Harryâs hands gripped your hips tighter, slapping skin against skin as he drove into you with merciless rhythm. âYouâre so fucking beautiful like this,â he growled. âSo wet and fucking desperate for me.â
You bit your lip hard to keep from crying out, your body trembling, mind swimming in a haze of pleasure and pain.
âSay it,â he demanded, voice snapping like a whip. âSay you want me to fuck you harder.â
âFuck me,â you gasped finally, voice raw, barely audible.
âGood girl,â he snarled, thrusting deeper, faster, every movement shattering the space between them. âIâm gonna make you scream my name so loud the whole damn neighborhood hears.â
You tried to speak again, tried to tell him how much you needed him, but all that escaped was a broken, breathless whisper.
Harryâs lips curled into a dark smile as he captured your mouth in a fierce, possessive kiss, teeth grazing your bottom lip as he pounded into you with every ounce of hunger.
âCome for me,â he growled, voice ragged. âCome all over my cock.â
And with a cry that tore through you, you didâshaking, trembling, drowning in the storm he unleashed.
He followed moments later, filling you completely, shuddering deep inside you as he rode out every last pulse.
They collapsed together, sweat-slick and breathless, the only sounds their ragged breathing and pounding hearts.
His hips slowly moving still as he groaned against your throat as he slowly pulled out, them both gasping at the loss, as he watched his cum slowly pool out of your still clenching hole.
âlook at that fuckinâ beautiful sight..â he said as he rubbed a hand over your belly.
âAre you doing alright, gorgeous?â he ask as leaned up to kiss your temple.
All you could manage was a weak nod, and had your eyes closed still in ecstasy.
âiâll be right back, gonna clean you up.â he said as he kissed your forehead and got up, still gloriously naked and walked to their bathroom to get a washcloth.
He came back with the slightly damp washcloth as he gently cleaned you up as he kissed her inner thighs and whispered praises.
After he finished cleaning you up he threw the washcloth into their laundry hamper and got back into bed, pulling you close to his side as he kissed your forehead again, pulling the blankets up.
âI love you, my girl.â he said as he rubbed his hand gently up and down your back.
âi love you tooâŚâ you mumbled back sleepily as you let him hold you to sleep.
๨ŕ§
A/N: Fuck this took too long, lmk what you think!!! goodnight.
SHORT SERIES: Harryâs arrival on Love Island stirs Y/Nâs feelings, sparking tension with her partner, Tom, and the rest of the ladies, as sheâs drawn to Harryâs charm and intrigue.
The full series is already completed and available to read over on my Patreon. đ¤
âď¸ Please consider joining my Patreon -> Patreon
âď¸ Please consider submitting your one shot request -> Forms
The morning light cast soft, golden stripes across the white sheets, warming the room in that lazy, half-awake kind of way. Harry stirred behind y/n, still drowsy, his chest rising and falling against her back. His arm was heavy over her waist, and his nose was tucked just beneath her ear, breath warm against her skin.
She felt it before she fully processed anythingâhis hips gently shifting, his length thick and already hard, nestled between the curve of her ass and the swell of her thighs.
âMm,â she hummed, still half-asleep, âYouâre poking me.â
Harry chuckled low in his throat, voice hoarse and sexy with sleep. âSâcause youâre warm. And soft. And naked.â
She didnât respond with wordsâjust rolled her hips back slightly, dragging a breathy curse from his mouth.
âFuck, y/nâŚâ
His hand moved up, palm splaying over her bare stomach, pulling her tighter against him. His lips found the side of her neck, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses from behind her ear to her shoulder, then biting down just enough to make her squirm.
âYou want me?â he whispered, his voice all silk and gravel.
She nodded, arching her back as he reached down between her legs. His fingers brushed over her foldsâalready slick with wantâand he groaned, pressing his hips harder against her.
âAlready wet for me,â he murmured, kissing her jaw. âAlways so ready in the morning.â
âHarry,â she breathed, a warning or a pleaâshe didnât even know.
He shifted behind her, guiding his cock through her folds, teasing, dragging the tip through her slick. His breath hitched when she rolled her hips back, silently begging him to justâ
He pushed in slowly, stretching her inch by inch from behind, both of them gasping at the warmth. His arm curled under her ribs, anchoring her against him, the other gripping her thigh and pulling her leg over his so he could sink even deeper.
âOhâGod,â she whispered, her fingers twisting in the sheets.
âFeel so good,â he groaned against her neck. âTight and warm and perfect.â
He moved slowlyâlong, deep thrusts that rocked the whole bed, deliberate and unhurried. There was no rush. Just the thick sound of skin on skin, her soft moans, his groans growing deeper as she clenched around him.
âLet me see you,â he rasped, pulling out and gently guiding her onto her back.
He climbed over her, pushing inside again without breaking eye contact. y/n gasped, legs wrapping around his waist, her heels pressing into the backs of his thighs as he filled her completely.
His hand found her cheek, brushing her hair back, thumb stroking under her eye.
âLook at me while I fuck you,â he said softly, a command wrapped in affection.
She didâand it undid him.
Their hips moved together, messy and desperate now, her nails scratching down his back, his lips on hers, swallowing every sound she made.
He reached between them, circling her clit with his fingers, his movements matched perfectly to his thrusts. âYouâre gonna come for me, baby. I can feel it.â
Her whole body tensed, thighs shaking, mouth falling open. She grabbed his face, kissing him hard as she came, muffling the cry in his mouth.
Harry cursed, losing rhythm as he followed her over the edge, grinding deep as he came inside her, forehead pressed to hers, breath ragged.
They didnât move for a long time.
Still joined, he held her close, brushing kisses over her face, mumbling, âMorning sex is my favorite.â
