here’s a little sample of something i’ve been writing over the past few weeks:
Harry slowly lifted his head, brows furrowed, lips slightly parted in pure shock. He blinked once. Twice. Like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right.
So you decided you weren’t going to beg.
You opened your eyes, met his dark green gaze, and said in the sweetest, most poisonous voice you could manage:
— Are you pitying me?
His body froze instantly.
The silence that followed was so heavy you could almost hear his ego cracking.
You never talked like that. Never. You were the girl who moaned his name, who asked for “more,” who blushed whenever he said something dirty. You never fired back. Never poked at his ego. And now you’d just driven a knife straight through the middle of it.
tw: smut, oral (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), age gap (older!harry)
author’s note: this story was translated by me and a friend, and @deliriumwriting helped with a review of the translation and gave some writing tips.
You and Harry hadn’t been together for very long, at least not in chronological terms. In your own time, though, it felt as if you had been together for a lifetime. Long enough for Harry to know when you were genuinely happy or merely being polite; long enough for him to memorise your usual order at the café and place it for you; long enough to grow accustomed to the messages and the countless random TikToks you sent him throughout the day; long enough to notice, and even appreciate, your particular obsession with his moustache.
His moustache… it was a simply irresistible detail. You could hardly remember what his face had looked like before, as though past versions had never truly existed. When you met, he was already sporting the facial hair you loved so much and, honestly, it only made him even more attractive. There was something about that effortless aesthetic, flirting with a certain “daddy” vibe, that caught you off guard, because you hadn’t even realised you could find it attractive until you met him.
It was amusing to think that, before everything, you had already known him in another way. From magazine covers, from impeccable photos at events, from concert videos you used to watch repeatedly during your teenage fangirl phase. It felt like a lifetime ago, even though, deep down, it hadn’t really been that long after all, you were only 21.
And even so, none of those versions compared to the one that existed now, so close, so real. Because, in real life, there was always something more—the way he looked at you, as if he had all the time in the world just for you. The way his smile appeared slowly, almost teasing, especially when he noticed how much attention you paid to that moustache. And when you moved closer, it was impossible to ignore the soft yet shiver-inducing sensation against your skin, the low laugh slipping from his lips as he noticed your reaction. It was unfair, really, because no old memory, no perfect photograph, came anywhere near that.
Many things about Harry seemed unfair when you stopped to think about it. He was unfairly handsome, had a body that looked as though it had been sculpted by the gods, knew exactly how to treat a woman, and was so good in bed that he made you cry almost every time you had sex.
Simply put, You were absolutely crazy about him.
You remembered that night perfectly, when he was so deep inside you that you could feel the shape of his cock pressing against your stomach. With a low, husky voice, he had murmured against your ear, “I’ve ruined all other men for you, haven’t I?” And you knew he was right. Deep down you already knew you would never be able to be with or be satisfied by any man who wasn’t Harry. Back then, you weren’t even officially a couple, but he acted as if you had been his from the very first moment he saw you.
Now, with him so close again, that feeling returned even more intensely. The calm, possessive look, the smile that appeared slowly, especially when he noticed how your eyes lingered on his moustache. That light moustache in contrast with the dark brown of his hair, well kept, which always made you a little more nervous when he smiled.
You moved closer slowly, your heart racing. Your fingers slid up to his chest, feeling his heavy breathing beneath his shirt. Harry tilted his head slightly, his eyes darkening as he watched your reaction. The corner of his lips curved, making his moustache shift in a subtle, almost teasing way. “Look at you…” he murmured, his deep voice laced with desire. “You’re already wet just from being close to me, aren’t you? And I haven’t even started touching you yet.” He took a step closer, his body almost pressed against yours. His hand moved slowly down your waist while his eyes remained fixed on yours. “I want to feel you in my tongue…”
He effortlessly carried you to the bedroom, switching on the bedside lamp on the way.
The warm, golden light bathed his skin as he laid you down on the bed. The sheets were cool against your back, contrasting with the heat already rising through your body. He knelt between your legs, his large palms finding the inside of your thighs, spreading you open slowly, almost reverently, just for him. “You drive me crazy.”
He began with slow, wet kisses along your inner thighs, moving up gradually. His rough moustache brushed against your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of shivers. Each kiss was followed by a gentle bite, a warm lick. He took a deep breath, inhaling your scent as if you were addictive.
When he reached the centre, he didn’t attack straight away. He ran his broad, flat tongue from your soaked entrance up to your clit, a long, slow, possessive movement. His moustache moved along with it, creating that rough, delicious friction that made you grab the sheets. He repeated the motion several times, letting out a low moan against you, the sound vibrating directly through your centre. "You're so wet for me..." He whispered, almost reverently. "This pussy is mine, isn't it?"
He closed his mouth around your clit and sucked firmly, rhythmically, while his tongue circled in quick, precise motions. His wet moustache rubbed without pause, intensifying every sensation. You arched your back, moaning loudly, your fingers tangling in his hair. He responded by gripping your thighs more firmly, opening you even more, plunging his entire face.
His tongue slid between your folds, teasing you slowly, then returned to your swollen clit, sucking at it hungrily. The sounds were wet, obscene, echoing through the silent room: the sound of suction, his husky moan, your own moans growing louder and more desperate. He alternated between long, deep sucks and quick, short licks, never letting you grow used to the rhythm.
One of his hands moved up your body, gripping your breast tightly, pinching your nipple while the other kept your thighs open. You could feel your orgasm approaching fast, but he noticed, he always knew when you were close, and he slowed down on purpose, torturing you. “Not yet, love, you’re going to hold it just a little longer. Can you do that for me?”
He pushed two thick fingers inside you, curling them exactly in the spot that made you see stars, while his mouth returned to your clit with more intensity. His wet moustache slid with more intensity, his tongue working faster, his fingers fucking into you hard and deep. Your whole body shook, trying to close your thighs around his head, but he wouldn’t let you.
When the pleasure became unbearable, he grunted against you. “You can come now, my love. Make a mess on my face.”
The orgasm hit you like an overwhelming wave. You came hard, moaning his name, your body tightening, pulsing around his mouth and fingers. But He didn’t stop. He kept sucking and licking slowly, prolonging the pleasure until you became too sensitive, trembling and breathless.
Only then did he move up your body, his moustache glistening with your arousal, his lips swollen and red. His dark eyes were wild with desire. “So beautiful for me.” He murmured, kissing you, making you taste yourself.
"I want to make you cum like this one more time before I actually fuck you. Is that okay?" You can only nod, unable to find words. “That’s my good girl.”
Then he lowered himself again, ready to continue, Because the night was always long when it was just the two of you.
summary: after getting jealous of harry at a party, you decide to take full control of the night. back home, you leave him completely submissive, denying his pleasure while using his body however you want.
tw: smut, belly riding, orgasm denial, sub!harry
author’s note: this is the second story i’ve written, but the first one i’m publishing. feedback is always welcome, i just ask that you be kind. also, english isn’t my first language — a friend translated the story for me, so please forgive any mistakes.
tag list: @maudie-duan; @fkingstyles
The SNL after party was crowded, low lights, loud music and the smell of alcohol and expensive perfume in the air. You were by Harry's side since you arrived, his hand on your waist, his thumb making a lazy caress over the thin fabric of your silk dress. Everything was perfect… until it wasn't.
One of the actresses — tall, blonde, with an easy smile and eyes that seemed to shine only for him — approached. Harry was polite, as always. Laughed at her jokes, tilted his head to hear better, lightly touched her arm while answering something about the night's sketch. Nothing much. But for you, it was enough. You felt the jealousy rise hot through your chest. Didn't say anything. Just smiled when he looked at you, but the smile didn't reach the your eyes.
From that moment on, you started to dodge.
Whenever Harry tried to kiss you, you turned your face at the last second, making the kiss fall on the cheek or on the corner of the mouth. When he tried to pull you closer by the waist, you took a subtle little step to the side, pretending to adjust the your hair or grab a glass. He frowned, confused, but you just smiled innocently and kept talking with other people.
He tried again in the car, the hand sliding down your thigh. You removed it with delicacy, intertwining the fingers in his as if it were just affection. Harry squeezed your hand, but you felt the frustration growing in him.
When you arrived home, he barely closed the door and was already pulling you by the waist, pressing your ass to his hip, mouth leaving sloppy kisses on your neck.
— Come here, my love. — murmured hoarsely in your ear.
You escaped the kiss, smiling sweetly.
— I want to take a shower first. I'm feeling all sticky from the party.
— Y/N...
— Just a minute, H.
The shower was longer than necessary. When you came out, wrapped in a towel, he was already lying on the bed in just his underwear, his eyes following your every move. You put on a thin satin nightgown, with nothing underneath, and lay down beside him.
Harry immediately moved closer, his warm body pressed against your back, his arm around your waist. His mouth found your shoulder, kissing slowly.
— Finally alone. — he whispered, his voice already heavy with desire. His hand slid down your thigh, trying to lift your nightgown.
You feigned a yawn.
— I'm exhausted, Harry. Goodnight.
And you closed your eyes, turning your face into the pillow. He remained still for a few seconds. You felt his chest rise and fall in a long, frustrated sigh. Harry removed his arm, lay on his side, and turned off the bedside lamp.
The silence grew heavy.
Minutes passed. You waited until you felt he was almost giving up, his body still tense beside you. Then, slowly, you began to move.
At first, it was just the slight of your hips, almost imperceptible. Then more intentional. Your bottom rubbed slowly against the front of his underwear, feeling his already half-hard penis begin to swell against the thin fabric.
Harry held his breath.
You continued the slow, circular movement, pressing firmer each time. You felt him become completely hard in seconds, his breathing becoming heavy behind you.
His hand came to your hip, squeezing, trying to pull you closer to him. You grabbed his wrist immediately, stopping the movement.
— No.
Your voice came out calm, almost sweet. Harry let out a low groan of frustration.
— Y/N…
You continued rubbing, slowly, feeling the head of his penis throb against your bottom through his underwear. Every time he tried to touch you, you pushed his hand away.
— You were too friendly with that woman at the party tonight. — you murmured, your voice low and coy. — I didn’t like it.
He exhaled sharply, his hips moving involuntarily against you, seeking more friction.
— It was just a chatting… it didn’t mean anything, you know that.
— Even so. I didn’t like seeing you laughing with her. Touching her arm.
Another slow rub, pressing your buttocks firmly against his hard cock. Harry groaned, the sound muffled in the pillow.
— Please, my love. — his voice was already hoarse, needy. — Let me touch you.
— No.
You felt him tremble behind you. His cock throbbed, hot and desperate.
Harry tried again, his hand sliding down your stomach. You held his fingers, intertwining them, but didn’t let them go down.
— Baby, please… I’m dying to feel you.
You gave another slow, provocative little wiggle, feeling the head of his dick almost slip out of his underwear.
He let out a pained groan.
— Baby, just the tip, okay? — his voice became whiny, almost tearful. — Just the head, I swear. Let me just put the tip in, my love, please…
You bit your lip to keep from smiling. It was working perfectly. Harry was desperate, his whole body tense, his penis throbbing against you, his breath short and hot on your neck.
— Please… — he begged softly, his voice choked with desire. — I'll do anything, just let me in a little… just the tip, baby. I'm dying here…
You kept the movement slow, torturous, without answering. Letting him beg a little more.
Harry rested his forehead against your shoulder, his body trembling with need.
— My love, please… I’m all yours. Only yours. Let me show you how much…
You smiled in the dark, satisfied.
And you kept rubbing, slowly, making him more and more needy, clingy, desperate.
Exactly how you wanted.
Harry was panting behind you, his cock throbbing hard against your ass, his voice rough and needy.
— Please, baby, I’m begging. Just the tip, I swear, just the head. Let me put it in just a little bit.
You pretended to think for a few seconds, still rubbing slowly. Then, without saying anything, you pulled your nightgown up to your waist and guided the thick head of his cock to your wet entrance.
You let him press in very slowly. Just the tip slipped inside, stretching you slightly, warm and throbbing.
— Like that. — you murmured, your voice low and controlled. — Just that. No more.
Harry let out a guttural moan, his hips trembling with the urge to thrust.
— Fuck, baby. You’re so warm and wet… — he panted, his voice already breaking. — Let me push in a little more, baby, just give me another in, please, I’m dying here.
You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, stopping him from moving any further.
— No. Just the tip, Harry. You promised.
He tried again, pushing slowly, desperate.
— Baby, please, I can feel you tightening around me. It’s killing me. Let me go all the way in, just once. I’ll go slow, I swear. I just want to feel all of you.
— No — you repeated, firm but sweet. You moved just an inch back and forth, letting only the head slip in and out, torturing him.
Harry moaned loudly, his whole body trembling.
— Baby, I’m begging… look how hard I am, look how I’m dripping for you. Please, just a little deeper, I’ll do anything, I’ll eat your pussy after, I’ll fuck you however you want. Just let me put it all in once.
You kept control, rolling your hips very slowly with only the tip inside, feeling him pulse and swell more with every second.
— You seemed a lot more excited about that actress flirting with you — you murmured, teasing. — I’m still mad.
— I wasn’t flirting, baby, I swear. I only have eyes for you, please forgive me. Let me fuck you properly. I’m suffering.
After a few more minutes of that torture, you were throbbing just as much as he was. You suddenly pulled him out of you. Harry let out a strained sound, almost a whine.
— No! Put me back in, please…
You turned to face him, climbed on top of him, and sat directly on his defined abdomen, your wet, warm pussy sliding over the firm ridges of his stomach.
Harry moaned, his hands moving up to your hips.
— Baby, sit on my face, please. — his voice came out hoarse, urgent. — Let me eat your pussy. You’ll come so much better and I’ll still get no relief, just how you want. Sounds fair, right? Just my mouth on you. Sit right here, baby. I want to taste you until you come.
You smiled in the dark, grinding slowly against his stomach, your clit rubbing against the warm muscles.
— I know exactly what you’re doing, Harry.
He blinked, pretending innocence, but his cock twitched against his thigh, leaking pre-cum.
— Me? I just want to make you feel good, baby…
— You love eating my pussy. — you said, grinding harder, your voice soft and teasing. — I think you like it more than I like being eaten out. Or do you think I magically forgot all the times you came just from having your face between my legs, without even touching your cock?
Harry let out a low, desperate laugh, his hands gripping your hips.
— Okay. You got me. But please, my love, sit on my face anyway. I’m dying to taste you. Let me lick you, I’ll do it right, nice and slow, just how you like it.
You ignored him, placing your hands on his chest and grinding faster. The wet sounds echoed through the room as you used his defined stomach as your toy.
— No. No pussy for you today. You don’t deserve it.
Harry moaned in frustration, his eyes fixed on you as you rubbed yourself against him.
— Fuck… you’re soaked. Look at what you’re doing to me. I’m hard as hell and you give me nothing. Baby, please, just let me touch you a little.
You ground harder, your swollen clit sliding perfectly against his muscles, feeling your orgasm building quickly.
— Shhh… be quiet.
Harry tried to lift his head, desperate to reach your boobs with his mouth, but you pushed his chest back down.
— No.
You closed your eyes, grinding faster and faster, moaning softly. The pleasure hit hard. Your whole body trembled as you came on top of him, soaking his defined stomach with your warm release.
Harry moaned along with you, his cock throbbing in the air, twitching without any touch, completely desperate.
You kept grinding slowly through your orgasm, stretching out the pleasure until the trembling faded. Then you simply got off him, lay on your side, pulled the sheet over your body, and closed your eyes.
Harry stayed there, panting, his stomach a mess with your juices, his cock red, hard, and painfully pulsing.
— Baby, please, I’m begging. Let me come just once, I’ll do whatever you want.
You didn’t answer. You just smiled with your eyes closed, breathing calmly, pretending you were already almost asleep. Harry let out a long, strained sigh, his body still trembling with need.
You fell asleep peacefully, satisfied and avenged.
i sent an ask to a writer with a concept, but just to test my own writing, i ended up writing the story myself and sent it to my besties. they all loved it and are telling me to post it. i don’t know what to do, because the writer doesn’t follow me and probably hasn’t seen the ask since i sent it today. i feel like it would be weird to post a story with the same concept i asked her to write. i want to post it to get feedback, but i also want to read the story written by an experienced writer who actually writes really well.
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