@mbbsgf . . . louis’ sweetest girl. autumn. coffee. prince hair harry’s #1 fan. bows. preacher’s daughter. hopeless romantic. cats. cinnamon. starting line by luke hemmings && strangers by ethel cain. books. steve harrington's good girl. halloween. late night walks. red (taylors version). rom-coms. purple&&gold. the notebook. watermelon smoothies. red roses. mod vanilla by ag.
dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws & issy i think???
a part of me mourns the idea of michael being this big or an indie film director, and actor. we already know how talented he is, especially, in a way, behind the screen.
A/N: so like... this is basically just smut hehe idk i felt the urge to write something filthy and this is what came out of it, also its probably the longest smut i've ever written, 4k of it is just that lol
WORD COUNT: 5.2k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: What happens when certain feelings and desires mix into a marriage of convenience? Y/N is forced to find out after a jealousy stund she pulls on her husband, who she definitely shouldn't fall for.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
The deafening quiet is nothing new. It’s been suffocating you since the moment you married him and accepted your fate, but tonight it’s deadly as you sit in the backseat of the car.
He is right there next to you, if you reached out to the side you could touch his arm, his broad shoulder, something you’ve been dying to do, but didn’t. Couldn’t.
He is your husband. The one you vowed to love forever, the one you’re tied to the rest of your life. Yet, he feels like he’s a million miles away, completely out of your reach.
And yet, you still crave him.
You had a plan going into this marriage. Do your part, be the pretty wife, the armcandy he can parade around with, keep yourself out of trouble and bring the best out of this impossible situation of being the wife of one of the city’s most feared men and it all worked out at first. The mansion is big enough to not run into each other for days, he was out there, doing everything you didn’t want to know about and you could go your own way, reading in the enormous library room, swimming in the crystal clear pool or gardening in the seemingly never ending backyard that stretches behind the main building. You could practically do anything, had everything you asked for in the blink of an eye and it all went according to your plan at first, but then…
Your real wife duties started and were forced to spend time with Harry and… fell for him.
It’s almost ridiculous to you, going against best judgement and falling for the one man you’re supposed to keep at arm’s length, because he is dangerous, a feared business man and an even more formidable mob boss you’re practically a prisoner to. But the more time you spent with him, attending events, accompanying him to dinners or appearing by his side in his club, you got to see more of him. More of the charming man who actually cares for the people closest to him, who might be considered morally grey, but actually fights for whatever he believes in and what matters to him. A man who is closed off, often labelled as cold and ruthless, but he is actually… someone you easily fell for.
The only man you can never have even if he’s your husband, what an awfully unfortunate situation.
You’ve kept your desires for him at bay. A fire has been burning inside you, but you didn’t let it show, you swallowed everything and anything that tried to bubble out of you, but tonight you just couldn’t control yourself.
You attended some kind of gala tonight, you’ve stopped caring about the events a while ago, you just go and fulfill your duty. Everything was going well, seemingly Harry has been in a light mood, even making jokes, seemingly paying more attention to you. But then when you left his side to go to the restroom you returned to finding him with a tall blonde woman who could easily be a model with her legs for days, full breasts that sat so perky behind the deep cut of her dress and perfect smile she eagerly flashed at your husband.
Jealousy blinded you in a second and you acted before you could even think twice. A guy walked up to you right in time, offering you a flute of champagne and you gladly took it, then let him shamelessly flirt with you to the point where his hand was getting dangerously close to your ass. Your little scene was cut short when Harry showed up with a not too pleased look on his face, practically killing the guy with his eyes as he dragged me away and out of the building, ending the night for us without a word.
“What’s wrong? I can’t have a little fun?” you smugly asked as you walked to the car that was already waiting for you. “It’s not like he could hurt me or something, we had dozens of people around us,” you huffed and Harry’s jaw ticked.
“You know nothing,” he spat and that was it. The conversation was over.
Now as you watch the lights pass by the window of the car you deal with a mixture of feelings and thoughts. He is mad because you put yourself in danger, familiarizing with a random guy on your own. He told you before that being his wife comes hand-in-hand with safety hazards, that you’d become a target and you have to be careful. You always listened to him, up until tonight when the jealousy completely blew your mind and had you acting reckless.
And the worst thing? The cherry on top of your rage? That it’s your jeopardized safety that set him off, not the flirting. Because you want him to want you the same way you feel about him, with the same intensity you’ve been burning for weeks now.
But that’s not happening. You might be husband and wife, but you’ll never be more than just the title.
You turn to look at him, but he is just staring out the window with an unreadable expression, but even now, he looks so…
The car parks in front of the mansion and even though you can tell he is pissed, more than ever, he still rounds the car and opens the door for you, helping you out so you don’t trip in your long dress and high heels. The momentary touch of his palm against your elbow just sparks even more heat inside you and it feels like pure torture.
You walk inside in excruciating silence, the tension feels like it could pop any moment. Once you’re in the spacious hall, you stop by the door while he keeps walking ahead and before you could think twice, you speak up.
“Are you regretting marrying me?”
Harry stops, but doesn’t turn, you watch his broad shoulders stiffen.
“I’m not what you imagined, right? Not the perfect little obedient facade you need as your wife.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” His tone has a warning in it, but it just riles you up even more.
“Maybe you should have married that blondie, I’m sure she’d be a better wife than me.”
“Y/N, stop,” he snaps, finally turning around. “Don’t…” He lifts a finger pointing at you, but then curls his hand into a fist, dropping back to his side. It seems like he is struggling, his usual controlled self is crumbling in front of your eyes.
“Don’t what? Don’t remind you of what you could have if you weren’t tied to me?”
Your throat tightens and eyes water, even though you’re fully dressed, in a sense it feels like you’re standing naked in front of him, speaking your thoughts for the first time you’ve met him, but you can’t keep it down any longer.
He takes a few steps closer, but stops way too far away from you.
“You’re dancing in a dangerous territory, Y/N.”
“Why? Are you gonna hurt me?” Now you’re just provoking him, you’re curious to see a side of him you haven’t, one that loses control, one that’s real and raw and unseen by anyone before.
He huffs, it almost sounds like a laugh, but his face doesn’t match it. He shakes his head and turns around with the intention of walking away, but you’re not ready to end whatever this is just yet.
“Must be hard, finding someone when you have a wife,” you push some more, wanting to get a rise of him, but what you get is far more.
He whips around and closes the distance between the two of you with just about two long strides. One hand comes to grip your upper arm, it’s firm but not painful and his face is so close, your noses almost brush together. Your breath hitches at the sudden closeness and the fire you see in his eyes.
“What’s hard is watching another man lay a hand on you and make you laugh when I want to be the only one you ever even think about.”
With eyes shot wide, you stare back at him, lips parted in complete disbelief. Did you hear him right or did you just imagine it? You can’t tell for sure, the rapid beating of your heart making you dizzy, or maybe it’s his words that have you going insane.
His hand lets go of you and he takes a step back, like he is sobering up, realising what he said. He takes a deep breath shaking his head as he slowly turns away once again.
“Stop putting yourself in danger,” he then says, quietly, reserved, like he is closing back again.
“I won’t stop,” you answer, still frozen in your spot. Harry stops, but doesn’t face you, so you continue: “I won’t stop if this is the reaction I get from you.”
He glances at you over his shoulder, as if making sure you meant what you said and you try your best to hold his gaze.
“I didn’t do it to risk my safety,” you admit. “I did it out of jealousy. I saw you with that tall, blonde woman and… I got jealous.”
Slowly, he turns around and starts walking back, stopping right in front of you, his face is still unreadable, but something has changed in his expression. His eyes slide down your body, down to the tip of your toes then back up, they stop on your lips, linger for a heartbeat before returning to your gaze and you read his look clearly for the first time.
Do you mean it? Do you actually mean it? His eyes ask and you tip your chin up as your answer.
I do.
He exhales deeply and takes a step back. Panic settles in you that he is about to ignore it, ignore you and you’re on the verge of begging, but then he speaks up.
“Go to your bedroom, take your shoes off and wait for me.”
His voice is even, controlled, but you see the fire in his eyes. With a small nod you do as he told you. You’re panting by the time you step into your bedroom, chest heaving from the desire that’s burning through your veins, eager to find out what’s about to happen. Kicking your heels off you stand by the end of your bed, back straight, hands by your side, obediently waiting for him. When you hear his steps approaching your room you swallow and stare at the door that gently opens.
He walks in, he has gotten rid of his own dress shoes, padding across the room barefoot, his suit jacket is also gone, the sleeves of his crispy white shirt now rolled up. He looks delicious, you’ve been thinking about running your hands through his hair all evening and the way his tattoos peek out from under the white fabric is just making you insane.
Harry stops right in front of you and you feel a pull towards him, your body is aching to be touched by him, but you stay still. He runs his gaze down your body again and you catch his tongue wetting his lips before he looks you in the eyes.
He takes another step, this time he is so close his front presses against yours and your lips part with a sigh when he reaches up and cups your cheek in one hand. He tilts his head to the side, like he is curiously examining your reaction to his touch, runs his thumb across your lower lip and then pushes it slightly into your mouth, surprising you for a second, but you’re quick to recover, closing your lips around it and sucking it gently while looking him in the eyes.
He grunts and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve heard from him, he pulls his thumb out of your mouth and you almost protest, but then he kisses you and you have nothing to complain about.
It’s rough and demanding, there’s nothing exploratory about it, it doesn’t feel like a first time, you move so perfectly together like you were made for this, for each other. His hand moves down to your jaw, angling your head so he has perfect access to you and his other hand slides to your waist, pulling you tight against him, though you’re eager to get closer as well, get under his skin if possible.
“Fuck,” he breathes against your mouth before pulling back just enough so he can look at you. His gaze rakes over your features that radiate desire right now. “You have no idea how badly I want you.”
“Take me,” you reply, probably a tad bit too fast, but you can’t control yourself any longer. “I’m yours,” you add, out of breath and desperate for practically anything he is willing to give you.
He exhales sharply, his fingers digging deeper into your waist at your words before his hands fall from you and he steps back. Once again, panic bursts through your veins that he is about to end it, but you’re quick to learn that he has other plans.
“Take your dress off.” His voice is low and demanding, but his face doesn’t twitch, he doesn’t even blink and he’s oozing power that has you weak in the knees.
Keeping eye-contact you pull the straps of your dress off your shoulders, the soft fabric bunches around your waist, leaving your upper body fully naked. The back of the dress has such a low cut you couldn’t wear a bra underneath. You don’t have to look down to know your nipples are pebbled and you could lie to yourself and say that it’s because of the cold, but it’s obviously because of Harry’s hungry look he is eyeing your chest with.
You push the dress past your hips and it pools around your feet so now you’re standing in front of him in nothing but a black lace thong. His jaw ticks several times as he takes you in, like you’re a masterpiece that deserves to be admired and you swear you can feel the burning of his gaze as it travels up and down your body over and over again. Arousal starts pooling between your legs and he hasn’t even touched you.
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve fantasized about you like this?”
A shiver runs down your spine at his words and you’re aching to finally be touched by him, but he is still just standing there, watching you. You wet your lips and draw a deep breath.
“I asked you a question, Y/N,” he says, dominance dripping from his tone. “Do you have any idea?”
“No,” you breathe out, voice almost trembling.
“Every fucking day since I laid my eyes on you. Every fucking hour even when you’re not around. I think about you. I think about your eyes, your lips, your curves, I think about fucking you on every possible surface of this house and I think about…”
His voice dies, like he is struggling to speak his mind which is a surprising switch up after the confidence he just demonstrated. He swallows and squares his shoulders.
Harry steps closer, one hand working on the fly of his pants and then he reaches in, palming himself through his underwear, while he takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head up a bit. He brushes his knuckles against the side of your face, down your neck and collarbone, over your breast and nipple, his touch is so soft, so feather-like, it’s playing with your senses. Then slowly, like he has all the time in the world, he cups your breast, your hard nipple pushing against his warm palm as he squeezes you. He leans in, lips brushing against yours, but he doesn’t kiss you.
“Get on your knees,” he orders and he is back to his controlled self.
You drop down to your knees so fast, the rug harshly rubs against your knees. You keep your eyes on him and as he finishes undoing his pants you almost whimper from the passion that’s burning inside you.
“Look at you, so pretty, so hungry for me,” he murmurs, brushing your hair out of your face, then he uses both his hands to push his pants and underwear down, taking his cock out. He gives himself a few lazy strokes while you gasp seeing how big and hard he is. The urge to touch him is growing impossible to resist, but something is telling you that you have to wait for him to give you permission, so you keep yourself still.
“Do you want to be good for me?” he asks, still stroking himself, but not touching you.
“Yes,” you nod eagerly.
“I can do what I want with you?” He tilts his head to the side, watching you curiously.
“Anything.”
“Good,” he hums, satisfied. “Then I’m going to fuck your mouth first and then I’m going to fuck your pussy so hard you’ll never want to be fucked by anyone else. How does that sound, Y/N?”
“Yes please!” It comes out more like a whine, you know if you saw yourself you might find your enthusiasm ridiculous, but you couldn’t care less. You want him. You need him.
“Such a good wife,” he grins, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head, the other one still holding his cock. “C’mere, let me fill that pretty mouth of yours.”
You finally let yourself touch him, hands coming up to his thighs to help yourself holding up as he guides your head forward, lips opening and welcoming his head.
He groans in satisfaction as you suck on it, tasting him, twirling your tongue around it before moving further, taking more of him.
“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so…” His head falls back with a moan when his tip touches the back of your throat. His hand is still on your head, slightly pushing on it, but you don’t need much encouragement, you’re ready to take and give everything he is offering.
You start bobbing your head, back and forth, ignoring how your jaw starts hurting quite fast, one hand on his thigh, the other one moving on its own, sliding up his stomach under his shirt, looking for more contact with his heated skin. You feel his muscles move under your palm as he starts thrusting forward, meeting your movements
“Yes, baby, you’re taking me so well,” he breathes out, his free hand grabbing yours on his torso, giving it a squeeze before he grabs your head with both his hands. You squirm from his words, especially from being called baby, your walls desperately contracting around nothing, but you’re convinced you could come just from his reactions.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth now and you’ll take it,” he says and then starts using more of his power, moving your head faster while his thrusts go deeper.
Your eyes start watering and your gag reflex starts, but you don’t want him to stop, not even when your saliva is dripping past your lips and down your chin. Both your hands are on his hips now to help keep yourself up, your knees are burning, but you ignore the pain. After a particularly deep thrust Harry curses under his breath and pulls back, his cock sliding out of your mouth. You gasp for air, but don’t have much time to recover, he pulls you back up to your feet and kisses you hard and messy. He doesn’t care that you had his cock in your mouth just seconds ago or that your lips are smeared with a mixture of your saliva and his precum, he kisses you just as passionately as the first time.
His self-control snaps now, his hands are all over you, palming your breasts, playing with your nipples, gripping your hips and ass as he blindly walks you back until your legs meet the end of the bed. He pushes you down so you sit on the mattress and watch him get rid of his shirt, pants and underwear, your hands fisting the sheets underneath you.
“Climb back,” he nods, leisurely holding his cock in his hand, his length still drenched in your saliva. You do as he said, sliding further up the bed, eyes fixated on him. “Open your legs.”
Parting your knees wide you lean back onto your elbows. His gaze draws down to your pussy that’s still covered in the last piece of clothing you’re wearing. Slowly, he climbs onto the bed, like a predator and you’re the prey he intends feasting on tonight. He plants his hands on either side of your hips and lowers himself, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your stomach, moving lower until he is kissing your cunt through the lace.
“Gotta have a taste first,” he murmurs against the fabric before biting you, taking the lace between his teeth and tugging on it and then he finishes the job with his hands, practically ripping it off you, throwing it behind him.
At first he runs his thumb between your folds, your arousal coating it generously and he looks you in the eyes as he sucks it clean, making you whimper.
“Mhm, you taste like you’re mine. My beautiful wife.”
You breathe out his name as his mouth finally makes contact with your pussy, sucking on your clit just a tad bit harder than you were expecting, but it’s bringing you some blissful pain. Out of instinct, your hands grab onto his hair, but then you hesitantly pull back as if you just did something wrong. Harry however reaches up, grabs your wrist and pulls your hand back, urging you to continue.
“Pull on my hair as much as you want, I’m yours as well, Y/N. Have been since our wedding.”
You can’t help but whimper at his words, grabbing a fistful of his hair as he keeps eating you out like a starved man. It’s mindblowing how well he knows what you want and need, as if he could read your thoughts.
You’re on the verge of your orgasm when he pulls back, a protesting moan slipping past your lips as he climbs up your body.
“I need you to come on my cock for the first time, baby. I promise you can come on my tongue later as many times as you want,” he tells you with a wicked grin before kissing you, the taste of you still thick on his lips.
You slow down, just for a little bit, sloppily kissing and rolling around in bed, but then the urgency and passion spikes again quite fast once he starts moving his hips, his cock teasing you right where you need him the most.
You roll around until you’re on your back again and he is on top of you. He holds himself up, staring down at you with an expression that comes off as full of… awe. Like he can’t believe what’s happening and you want to tell him you feel the same way, that it’s everything you’ve been thinking about since the day you met him, but forming coherent words is just not possible for you right now. Instead, you grab him by the neck and pull him down for another long kiss.
When the need for him grows unbearable you break your lips apart and wiggle to the side, reaching into the drawer of the nightstand, grabbing a condom you’re thankful to have, it would be devastating to stop now.
“Put it on,” he softly tells you, holding himself up above you, watching you open the wrapper and roll it on his cock that feels rock hard by now. He drops his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. “I’m gonna fuck you like this is my only chance fucking you.”
You open your mouth to tell him it’s not, that it cannot be the only time, but he shakes his head with an airy laugh.
“I know it’s not my only chance, I can’t accept never fucking you again, but I’ll pretend for a bit.”
Biting your lower lip you nod, hands wandering his sides and then plastering to his back as he reaches between your bodies, takes the base of his cock and lines him up at your entrance.
“Look at me,” he orders when the tip enters you, pulling a gasp from you. Your gazes meet and he burns a hole into you with his eyes as he pushes into you, fully, rolling his hips a bit as if he is trying to wedge even deeper. He is stretching you, filling you up fully, like he was made to be inside you.
You get only a few moments to adjust before he starts moving and he draws be entirely every time only to slam into you to the hilt over and over again, knocking the air out of you with each thrust. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and he shows you no mercy as you claw at his back, he pulls your legs up, making him more room between your thighs. It’s all so consuming, the weight of him, the force of his thrusts, the sound of his pants and grunts in your ear, the way your front presses against him when you arch your back, skin melting together.
Suddenly his arms curl around you, he flips the two of you over without ever sliding out of you and in a heartbeat you’re sitting on top of him, his cock reaching yet another angle inside you. Planting your hands on his chest you start riding him without hesitation, rolling your lips, moving up and down, back and forth. Harry’s fingers dig into your thighs and he starts thrusting upwards, meeting your movements, but it feels so heavenly you sometimes forget to move as bliss takes over you.
He sits up, mouth covering your nipple, nibbling on it, twirling it with his tongue as you try your best to keep moving your hips, but it’s such a sensory overload, you’re not that good at it. As if he could sense it too, he flips you back onto the mattress and pulls out of you, the empty feeling making you cry out in discomfort immediately.
“Roll onto your stomach, baby,” he says, squeezing your hips.
He moves back just enough to give you room and you obediently roll onto your stomach. The mattress dips under his knees as he comes kneeling above you, one of his hands sliding slowly down your spine. He lowers himself and you gasp when you feel his cock wedge between your asscheeks, teasingly moving some.
“So fucking pretty. My wife spread out for me.” It feels like he is talking to himself, not you, like he needs to say it out loud to believe it.
“Just for you,” you say, glancing at him over your shoulder, earning another grunt from him as he leans forward, biting the shell of your ear as he moves his cock from your ass to between your slick folds. With ease, he slips right back inside you, but he doesn’t move. Desperate for more, you try to wiggle against him, but he pins you to the mattress with his hips.
“Tell me, who is fucking you this good?” he asks, his nose brushing against your ear.
“You,” comes your answer as a whine.
“Mm. But who am I?” He is still unmoving, driving you crazy with filling you up but not giving you more.
“My husband!” you moan, face twisting from the unbearable need. “My husband is fucking me so good!”
He exhales sharply and finally starts moving, fast and hard, his hips smack against your ass with each thrust. You’re seeing stars, breathing is getting harder, but the pain is so fucking good, so delicious. One of his hands grabs you by the hair, rough and almost animalistic, he tugs on it so your neck cranes, scalp burning, but it’s just so. Fucking. Good.
He leans down and kisses you, though it ends up a little all over the place since he is moving relentlessly, your throat is twisted in an unnatural angle, but you’d break your neck if it meant he’d keep fucking you into oblivion.
With one hand he spreads your legs more and pulls your hips up a little to give him better access to your throbbing pussy. His tip hits the right spot and the build-up of your climax fastens.
“Harry!” you gasp, face twisting from everything you’re feeling at once, his cock hitting you so deep over and over again, your nearing orgasm, the thought of Harry being the one to give all of this to you.
“Come on, let me feel you come for me,” he urges, quickening his thrusts, even though you didn’t think that’s possible. He is hammering you into the mattress and out of this world.
“Fuck, I–I can’t–Harry…”
His name is a plea and in a way it tips you over the edge. Your orgasm bursts between your legs and spreads across your body in waves, you twist and wiggle underneath him, gasping for air or repeating his name over and over again. You’re riding out the last waves when his climax takes over him.
His thrusts fall out of rhythm, he weighs down on you more and After each thrusts he stays inside you a little longer, right until he stops moving.
You’re a mess. Sweaty, out of breath, tired, but you haven’t felt this good in probably… forever. Several minutes pass before Harry rolls off you, lying on his back, chest still rising and falling heavier than usually, eyes closed. You tuck your arms under your head and turn it to the side, watching his profile.
His eyes flutter open and he turns towards you. His face is so much softer now, the dominance and tension is gone, the smile that tugs on his lips feels so warm and loving, it almost makes you dizzy.
He rolls to his side, gently tangling his fingers in your hair as he kisses your forehead and when you lift your head he presses his lips against yours.
It’s slow, tender and so sweet, opposite of the way he just fucked you, but it’s such a delicious mix.
“What now?” you ask against his lips.
“Now… we take a shower and I feed you and preferably do another round.”
“You know what I meant,” you smile at him sheepishly.
“We’re married,” he states. “And we are obviously open to fully conquering this marriage.” He looks at me with questioning eyes and you nod. “We can… do whatever we want.”
“I want you.” It comes out before you could stop the words, but it’s the truth. You want him, all of him, even if you probably shouldn’t.
A faint smile plays on his lips.
“And I want you. That’s a good start, if you ask me.”
You can’t help but laugh and he grins as well before stealing another kiss. “Come on, I want to fuck you in the shower too,” he announces sitting up and climbing out of the bed like he didn’t just fuck your brain out minutes ago. You sit up and look at him as he stands by the bed in all of his naked glory, his cock already hardening again and just one thing keeps echoing in your mind.
That’s your husband.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
SUMMARY: a short blurb about how harry would fuck you in a headlock.
PAIRING: harry styles x fem! reader
ⓘ WARNINGS: pure smut (soft dom harry, penetrational sex (p in v), being held in a headlock, spanking, tummy bulge, slight edging), use of nicknames (baby, good girl, etc.)
gracie speaks .ᐟ
i made this one on my old account and i’ve been thinking about it recently so i decided to remake it!
you laid flat on your stomach on the bed, your cheek squished up against the pillow as harry laid on top of you. his hard, warm chest was pressed up against your back, holding you down. your legs were spread apart, being held open with his knees behind yours as fucked into you.
“take it, baby. c’mon,” he murmured into your ear, his voice raspy and deep. the skin of his lips brushed against your skin as his hips moved at a rapid pace, and you could hear the skin of his pelvis hitting your ass with every thrust. his hand slipped under your belly, squeezing into the space between you and the bed as he pressed flat against your stomach.
his other arm wrapped around your neck, resting your chin between his forearm and bicep and giving a light squeeze. he holds you in a headlock as the continues to fuck you, pressing down on your tummy feeling the bulge of his cock beneath your skin. “you feel me right here, sweetheart?” harry speaks lowly, squeezing your neck a little tighter.
“oh god!” you moaned out, grabbing onto harry’s bicep for leverage. your eyes were watering as he hit that spot deep inside you repeatedly, drawing ungodly noises out of your mouth.
he moved his hand from your stomach and swatted the side of your ass, the sound cracking through the bedroom as you cry out. “taking me so well, darling,” he praises you, spanking you once more. “gettin’ so close f’me, aren’t you?”
“i can’t take much more,” you whine, gripping harry’s bicep even tighter. he continues his ruthless pace, the sounds of his skin slapping into yours filling the bedroom.
“just a little longer, baby,” harry replies, not letting up. “you can hold it for me. just a bit more.”
minutes pass and finally, after what felt like years of being edged, harry finally lets you come. your body twitches and jolts beneath him as you moan while harry continues fucking you. “that’s it, baby,” he praises, eventually slowing down. “that’s it. good girl.”
with every little fiber in me, fuck you if you support trump in any way. i hope you feel pain ten times worse than everyone affected by him and his fuck ass administration. that sounds extremely rude of me to say, though i mean it entirely.
