Learn To Knock | H.S

learn to knock | H.S

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summary: not knocking on your door has led to harry walking in on you… with your hand between your legs.

warnings: f and m receiving hand job, some nipple play, a lot dirty talk, mix of praise and degradation to represent their love hate relationship.

a/n: literal filth I’m sorry I have nothing to say for myself.

———

It was mid-afternoon and you were laying in bed, scrolling and enjoying your rest day from your usual hectic schedule.

Nothing in particular had led you to start doing what you were doing. Just the random urge. And future you will be thanking you for that.

One hand was placed between your legs and the other pushed over your mouth. Short snippets of fantasies flowing in and out of your mind— nothing certain— just little things, words and ghosts of touches. Pleasure was building in your stomach from the fast circles you were rubbing onto your clit, and it was hardly long until you’d be biting into the palm of your hand and riding out your orgasm.

That was until the door to your room flew open.

Your legs flew shut around your hand as a mutual gasp was shared.

I mean, you knew it was Harry, not only because he’s the only other person you live with, but more going by the no knock on the door, barge the fuck into your room for whatever reason he initially was coming in here for.

But whatever he’d come to ask you had obviously died in his throat at the sight. The sheets were half pulled over you, outlining your now clamped-together legs and the arm tucked between them.

No getting out of this one.

“You need to learn how to fucking knock.” You hissed immediately at him, whole face flaming as you pulled the twisted sheets to fully cover your upper half.

“What the fuck— it’s like 1 o’clock in the afternoon I didn’t think you’d be jerking off!” He immediately jumps to defend himself, pushing a hand through his long hair.

“What am I not allowed to?” You sigh, slipping your hand from your clit, laying it on your stomach.

“Not what I’m saying. Just was caught off guard”

You stare at eachother, and despite the embarrassment that naturally should come when you get caught touching yourself, your eyes are eating up his tall figure and stern face. A voice in the back of your brain wondering how good he could make you feel.

He’s not blind to the way you’re looking at him, hunger laced deep into your eyes, and it’s unmistakably for him.

“What, need some visual stimulation to get yourself going again?” He deadpans at your completely obvious act of checking him out.

You roll over, face pushed into you pillows, your cunt aching to be touched again, “Can you shut up, Harry?”

He walks over to the side of your bed, “sorry love, didn’t hear you, say it again for me?”

It was a challenge the way he said it, even so much bordering on a warning— but god you couldn’t find it in you to care. He can expect you to go polite all he wants, but he knows very well from living with you that is not what he’ll get. And maybe that’s how he wants it to go.

You push your body to face him, “Shut up. That is what I said.”

His cock has hardened in his jeans, and desire is starting to take the wheel on his actions.

His hand comes up to your chin, “Don’t stop on my account darling. I can even help you out if you want.”

His voice is like honey, but both of you know the intent behind that is yet again a challenge. To see how far you’ll take it.

“I was doing just fine before you barged in here.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“But I bet you’d love to get your hand between my legs.” You cave in, slipping your hand back down, sighing at the contact of your fingers to your clit.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” He sits on the edge of your bed, watching the silhouette of your hand under the sheets.

“Already know you do, can see how hard you are from here.” You tease.

“Well are you gonna do something about it?” He raises his brows.

“No. I’m just gonna keep doing what I’m doing. You deal with it yourself.” You glare, pushing a finger into your entrance, and you realise you’re almost dripping now.

This entire situation is hot. You cant deny it, and neither can he.

He palms over himself, the tightness of his jeans making him almost ache. You’re staring at him with that fucking defiant look on your face and he just wants to kiss it off.

So he does just that, leaning down to capture your lips with his. He holds your chin, humming in the back of his throat as you open your mouth for his tongue to slip in.

He unbuttons his pants with his free hand, shucking them off his long legs, leaving him in just black briefs.

Your fingers are still pumping in and out of yourself as his tongue maps out your mouth.

He reaches into his briefs, quickly pulling back, “this ok?”

“Yes.” You replied without a second thought, watching as he slips himself out.

His cock flicks up to hit his stomach, hard as a rock.

You try not to let the shock show on you face as you see it, it’s large. Of course it fucking is. It’s pretty too. The head is same flushed pink as his lips, with neatly trimmed hairs at the base.

His hands are twitching to pump himself, and you clock it like a hawk.

“Go on, touch yourself.” You prompt.

“Pull down the sheets.” He states, “then I will.”

“Need the visual stimulation?” You laugh, waiting for him to smile a little at the tease.

“Mmhm, wanna see you fucking yourself.”

You push them down, exposing you panties that had been impulsively pushed to the side, and your hand thrusting slowly in and out of you.

“Fuck sake…” he curses at the sight, palm moving to wrap around himself— squeezing.

You both watch each other for a minute, taking in the movements and little noises that were being sounded.

You were the first one to breach the gap, reaching over to stroke your thumb over his tip and have his head thrown back.

“Thought it was a hands to ourselves policy.” He moans.

“Decided I want you to make me come.” You boldly state, sitting up and pulling him closer to you.

“‘Course you do, knew y’would cave. See you looking at my hands all the time, know you want them in y’cunt, needy little slut.” He says, voice gravely and making you clench around your fingers.

“Whatever, you probably want my mouth around your dick just as much.” You kiss his neck, biting the skin there.

“Bet you’d love a bit of throat fucking.” He grabs the tank top you were wearing and pulls it over your head.

“No fucking bra either. Jesus Christ.” He takes a breast into his hand, tweaking the nipple between his fingers which has you struggling to hold back a moan.

His hand has finally slides down to your cunt, pushing your own out of the way to take over.

You follow suit, wrapping your hand— fingers still damp from your own arousal— and stroke over his cock.

You’re both panting, it feeling so unbelievably good to be touching each other like this. His fingers flicking over your clit and yours squeezing his cock.

“Your fucking soaked, bloody dripping all over y’sheets.” He curses, rubbing his fingers through your slit.

“Well you practically edged me by coming into my room when I was about to come.” You griped.

“Oh yea, I bet you can totally make yourself drip like this. Don’t lie love, it’s from me. You probably weren’t half as wet before I came in.” He was hardly wrong, but he doesn’t need to hear you confirm that.

“You’d love to hear me- fuck- say that. Tell you I’m soaked ‘cause of you. Egotistical son of a bitch.” He pushed a finger into you, sliding all the way in, the chunky ring around the base of his middle finger hitting your entrance.

“Such a fucking brat you are, have quite the mouth on you, yknow that?” You squeezed around him, already feeling like you could come.

“I do. Bet you just wanna fuck it quiet.” You said, sounding a bit out of breath. Still trying to keep up, stroking his cock faster.

“Hardly could be considered a punishment since you’d enjoy it so much.”

His hands were speeding up at your words, one moving to play with your clit while the other fucked your entrance, slipping in another long finger.

It made you tingle, “Fuck— Harry!”

He hummed, “There we go, good girl. Finally have you moaning f’me.”

It was hard to figure out if you loved or hated how good his hand felt. Well, mentally you weren’t sure, physically though you were pushing into every movement he made.

Your hand had stuttered from stroking him, so you quickly made to move it again, to outdo him. You tightened your grip on him, stroking faster— swiping over the beading precome on his tip.

“Jesus, trying to make it a competition darling…” he grunted

Everything with you was always a competition, and especially this. Your hand kept pumping him, hearing his moans fueled you to keep going— to keep pushing him closer to the edge. He wants this as much as you do, and even though he would never admit it with his pretty pink lips, it’s true.

“Bet you want to make a mess all over my hands.” You whispered into the shell of his ear, licking a stripe along it.

“Maybe I do, darling. Maybe I wanna wreck your pussy too.”

You whimpered at the thought, rolling your hips with his fingers curling inside you.

“Ohh.” He coos, “listen to you now, whining for me, acting like such an angel. Trying to be a good girl now I’ve put that on the table.”

“You’re not though, are you? You’re a slut.” He speeds up his fingers, and your jaw is going lax.

You can’t even feel your hand, let alone keep moving it on his cock— the only sensation you have is the burning one in the pit of your stomach.

“Please, please.” You beg.

You’re teetering on the edge of bliss when his hand pulls away. You cry out, clenching your legs together, squirming at the empty feeling.

“I hate you, hate you so much,” you whine, “please, let me come.”

He doesn’t listen, “Open your mouth.”

You part you lips instantly, despite wanting to punch him in the stomach.

He puts the fingers covered in your arousal onto your tongue, “Show me you can be a good girl and suck.”

You oblige, not without the frown on your face though.

“Taste yourself?” He asks, and you nod around his fingers— his eyes darkening a little at the sight.

He slides them from your lips, “get on my lap.”

“Stop being so pushy.” You snap, frowning at him.

He chuckles, “acting like you aren’t into me bossing you around.”

Another moment where he couldn’t be more correct, but you are not going to admit it out loud.

You slide onto his thigh, and he sighs out a breath, taking a short moment to slip his tshirt over his head.

“You’re so wet, baby. Feels s’nice.” The mix of praise and degrading has your head spinning, it’s such a jump from one to the other. And fuck is it hot.

You rub yourself on his warm skin, “lay between my legs, actually, wanna make sure you can see my fingers fucking you.”

He doesn’t give you time to move yourself, he just pulls you there— cock resting on your bare back.

He strips your panties off you, moving to gently tease your clit. Your legs part wide for him.

“You gonna be a good little slut now?”

You stare at him, biting your lip to keep the moans from slipping out.

“Keep your attitude in check for me baby? Reckon you can do that?”

When you still say nothing, his finger rubs down your slit to trace around your dripping hole.

“Can make you feel so good, love. I’ll have your little pussy clenching so hard around my fingers if you just be good.”

“Fine.” You say breathlessly, hating having to submit to him like this.

He hums, rewarding your reluctant agreement with his finger filling you up again.

Suddenly, your pride was worth the feeling.

“Fuck!” You moan as he pushes another one in.

He isn’t messing around now, he fucks your hole with fast strokes, the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit perfectly.

“Taking it so well, letting me fuck your pussy with my fingers.” He praises into your ear, his other hand sliding up to play gently with your breast.

“Harry— oh god.” You cry, squirming in his grip. You were ready to snap after being edged twice.

“That’s right, darling, watch my fingers fuck your cunt.”

His filthy words being uttered are enough to have you coming alone, paired with the euphoric feeling of his fingers in you has you a mess.

“I’m— holy shit I’m gonna come. Please!” You beg, worried he was going to pull away.

“Tell me you hate me.” He says, grabbing your chin— making you look down at his movements between your legs.

“I hate you! Please, H.”

Your peak held for that blissful, breathless moment. Expecting to be deprived of that final push for your orgasm.

“Come for me, Y/N.” He’d said, and you cried out— a tidal wave of pleasure hitting you.

You were clenching so tight around his fingers, spots coating your vision as he didn’t let up his pace.

He fucked you through your orgasm, “can imagine how good my cock would feel getting squeezed by your pussy.”

You were pushing his hand away, once the pleasure ebbed and you couldn’t handle his fingers anymore. Panting as you laid your head back into the crook of his neck, eyes meeting his.

“Look at you, all beautiful and fucked out.”

You blinked slowly, brain scrambling for a witty comeback.

“I hate you.” Was still all you could say.

Your hand nonetheless found it’s way to his cock, pressing hard into your back.

“Don’t have to if you’re tired, babe.” He smiles, gently holding your wrist.

You shake your head, “you made me feel so good, can’t leave you high and dry.”

Your hand wraps around his head, immediately stroking down— causing him to moan.

He was definitely vocal, and god did you find that hot.

You picked up the pace of your strokes, fully turning your body to watch his reactions, and how his stomach muscles rippled with pleasure.

“Are you gonna come on my hand, Harry?” You cooed, squeezing him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He cursed, bucking his hips up into your warm palm.

He was clenching his jaw as you rubbed him rhythmically, quickly coming undone with your movements.

“Darling— god—“ He groaned, hands threading through your hair and pulling at the roots.

“Mmm, you’re so gorgeous.” You hummed, placing a kiss onto his lips as he was shaking with the pre-pleasure of his release.

It didn’t take much more to have his stomach muscles contracting under you, a moaned curse falling from his lips as white ropes of his come spurted out his tip, painting your fist and his chest.

His muscles all relax, and he slumps onto the bed, and you join him, flopping down.

“God, you’re so…” he sighs out, sentence trailing off.

You trace his tattoos with your pointer finger, “Hate you. Hate how pretty you are, H.”

He smiles, eyes half-lidded, “Hate you just as much, love.”

“We can clean up soon. Just wanna lay for a bit.” You whisper.

“Whatever you want, darling.”

———

AFTER-SHOW KISSES

summary: your singer boyfriend, Harry Styles, had just finished another Love On Tour show and you praise him with a kiss, or maybe more. (number: 26, genre: fluff. prompt list)

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

"H! That was probably one of your best shows right there, literally amazing!" you exclaimed, pulling your popstar boyfriend, Harry Styles, in for a little kiss. Or so you thought.

A small peck on his lips went to a normal kiss. A normal kiss to a mini-makeout session backstage, you guys were enjoying the intimate moment alone in Harry's dressing room.

"H, you have to attend the meet-n-greet! Let go!" you tried to warn, his management team was probably going to get so frustrated if he didn't arrive on time.

"Ugh... fine. Only because you told me to. Be ready once I'm done!" Harry said, pulling back. He walked toward to beige door, sending a wink your way and pointing at you.

"Wait! One more thing," you called, pulling Harry into one last kiss, purposely attempting to smear your Dior lipgloss on his after-show lips.

You pulled back, looking at the mess that you've created. "Now, my lipgloss is all over your lips," you happily stated, sending Harry out the door for his meet-n-greet.

°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°

a/n: first post, first oneshot, not feeling too confident. and if you have any requests with this prompt list, do send the genre and number! or even if you have any request at all, do send them in!! i'd love to do them<3 don't forget to like and reblog!

Keep Me*

Summary: In which Harry is desperate to be in his subspace, and you're desperate to keep him there.

“Shit…s’perfect, Angel. Please…please—”

“I know. I know, baby. Been doing so good for me…just a little longer, okay?”

Harry nods fervently, lip between his teeth as he does his best to hold off. He wants more than anything to make you come first. For the third—maybe fourth time? He’s lost count, and so have you, but he does know that you’ve demanded his restraint, and he plans to obey.

It’s rare he gives you this kind of control over him. Rare that he allows the power to shift into your hands, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.

Especially after the week he just had.

Meetings, and PR scandals, and Instagram posts, and interviews, and even more meetings, and a fight with his sister, and fittings, and rehearsals, and studio sessions, and you guessed it…more fucking meetings.

He doesn’t do well with talking. Whenever you ask him to come cuddle with you on the sofa and tell you about his day, he merely shrugs off his annoyance and tells you he’s fine. 

And you don’t push because you know it won’t do either of you any good.

But you did find that the best way to get him to open up…is by tying him down.

He’s always the one in control. Always the one on top. Always the one telling you what to do, how to feel, when to release.

He adores seeing you in your subspace because it makes him feel like he has just a semblance of control over something.

And you’re more than happy to give that to him.

But it’s moments like this, when he feels truly lost…that he needs to know you’ll be there to find him.

That you’ll let him disappear into himself…and bring him back when the time is right.

He’s dangerously close to slipping into his subspace and you’re eager to get him there. You know it’s what he needs. What he needs from you, and you’re so close to tipping him over that edge.

“God, my sweet boy,” you purr, palm caressing his cheek as you press wet kisses just below his ear. “Feel so fucking good. Needed you so bad this week.”

“Yeah?” his voice is hopeful, desperate to know you miss him the same way he misses you.

And it’s delicious the way he speaks. His voice, ever rough and familiar. But whinier than you’re used to hearing from him, and it makes you clench.

He hisses when he feels it, and you know how hard he’s trying not to come, so you attempt to relax.

“M’sorry, darling,” you murmur, nails scratching down his sweaty chest. “Just can’t help it when it comes to you.”

His lashes flutter, eyes moving up your face as his bottom lip juts out in a pleased pout. “Please…”

“I know,” you say again, softer this time as you work to roll yourself a bit quicker. “Almost there…shit—don’t pull, baby. Come on, you know better.”

You watch him grimace as the restraints around his wrists prevent him from grabbing onto you. And you smile, because you absolutely adore the way he seems to need you, even when he knows he shouldn’t.

He tries again to tug himself free, the headboard shaking ever-so-slightly before he dejectedly drops his arms and accepts defeat.

“Good boy,” you breathe, pressing your lips into his. You adore kissing him when he’s in this state. Because you can just taste the desperation on his tongue, and the sound of his faint whimpers do more for your cunt than any other man ever has.

His chest is heaving beneath your touch, and you can just tell by the way his cock is twitching inside you that he’s finding it quite hard not to let go, so you decide to make it a bit easier on him.

“Can you give me one more minute?” you ask as you lean back. “Just one more, baby, and I promise I’ll make it better.”

He nods again, beads of sweat slipping out from his hairline as he clenches his teeth together and lifts his hips into you. 

If you were to ask him what’s more important, his release or yours, he would say yours without hesitation.

Subspace or not, he cares more about seeing you fall apart than he does about getting himself off. And if he had to abstain from coming for the rest of his life just for you…he’d do it gladly.

Today, however, that’s not a choice he has to make. 

You will be making him come, and he’s more than thankful for it.

Without his nimble fingers to help get you to the end, you resort to using your own, pinching and pressing against your clit with fervor as he watches.

He’s wonderstruck. Eyes going wide, swollen lips parting, veins in his neck straining against his skin.

He never allows you to touch yourself normally, since he's sure he hates the idea of making you do it yourself without his help. 

But seeing you now…riding him so perfectly, making yourself gasp and whine as you bring yourself closer forces him to re-evaluate this rule of his.

And you’re already so overworked and overstimulated that your body is complying a mere fifteen seconds later. 

Still, he watches you with absolute glee and adoration as your eyes roll back, once again pulling on the ties in an effort to hold onto you.

It’s killing him. All of it. Ruining his health, in fact, and the moment you manage to blink the stars from your eyes, you remember what you promised him.

“Okay,” you smile, reaching out to cup his jaw as you grind down a bit more enthusiastically. “Okay, sweet boy…you can come now.”

A groan rips from his throat as he thrusts up into you once again, body shaking as he finally reaches that blissful end. And it feels so goddamn good to have him inside of you. The way he was always meant to be.

Immediately, you lean closer, wrapping your arms around his middle as you press yourself against his heart.

He always likes to come like this. He’ll yank you into his chest, bury his face in your neck, and hold you through every second of it.

And since he can’t do that this time, you do it for him.

His lips disappear into your hair as he takes slow, steady breaths. There’s a hint of a lost whimper woven between each gasp for air, and it pleases you to know that you succeeded in your mission to distract him.

You stay for a minute or two, still wrapped around his body as he fights to regain consciousness.

But you know you can’t exist in this bed forever, no matter how badly you want to, so you pull yourself from his feverish skin so you can slip off of him and clean him up.

The second your face leaves his neck, he stumbles over a gasp. “No…wait…”

There’s an urgency in his voice that worries you, and you still as you look him over. “What? What’s wrong?”

His arms once again twist beneath the restraints as he arches off the bed to reach you. “Don’t go.”

You exhale a laugh as you dip down to press a kiss to his cheek. “M’gonna be right back, Har. Just gotta clean us up.”

“No,” he pants, a bit louder, and you can see the wariness in his eye. “No, please…please, just…I can’t…can’t…not ready.”

You realize now what he means. The moment you return to your normal routine, he’ll be forcibly shoved out of his subspace, and thrown back into his real life.

And he’s not ready.

Your heart just about shatters in your chest as you nod and reach up to slip your fingers beneath the knots on his wrist to set him free.

The moment he’s released, his arms snake around your hips as you settle onto your back and pull him into your side.

You do what you know he loves when he’s like this. You brush your hands through his sweaty hair and whisper everything he’s ever needed to hear. You scratch your nails along his arm, and you kiss his forehead, and you praise him.

“So good,” you hum softly as you watch his eyes flutter shut. “Always so good for me. My sunshine boy. My perfect devil.”

You catch his faint grin. You’re his angel, and he’s your devil. Even like this.

He presses lazy kisses to your bare chest, even though you can see it’s a struggle for him to exert so much energy. He needs to sleep, but you don’t stop him because he’s not doing it for you.

He needs this.

You squeeze the back of his neck every few moments, just to remind him you’ve got him, and he nearly melts into your body each time.

You’re not sure when he comes out of it. It’s different tonight than it normally is. Usually, the second he’s your Harry again, he’s making some playful quip about how you shouldn’t get used to tying him up and seeing him like that. And that he’ll have you his way next time.

Tonight…he stays quiet.

Tonight, he keeps himself tucked beneath your arm, and kisses his problems away, and begs you to keep touching him.

And even though you can tell he’s no longer in his subspace, he doesn’t return to his normal routine. He doesn’t relight that fire you know burns inside his chest.

Tonight…he just wants to be kept by you.

So, you do just that.

You keep him.

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

manbun | H.S blurb

my masterlist

summary: you and harry are about to fuck in the back of his car, and you want his hair out for it. little do you know how much he likes a bit of hair pulling.

warnings: SMUT, car sex, quickie, hair pulling (m receiving), unprotected PIV, swearing.

a/n: just a little snack for y’all while I work on far from sober’s second part! manbunrry is so underrated.

———

“Baby—“ you hiss as Harry’s teeth come in contact with the junction of your neck and jaw.

His hands are on your hips, gripping tight since the moment he slid you up his lap.

You were making out in the back seat of his car— an impromptu decision to drive out to the nearest city lookout has quickly turned into, well… whatever you call this.

You weren’t together, the two of you. But it’s complicated to describe what you even are. He’d invited you over to watch a movie, so you did that, and nothing sexual had even happened.

Quickly that changed, after driving out here, the middle of butt-fuck nowhere and all the sudden being all over eachother.

Well at least since he joked about the both of you fucking in his car. Pretty sure he was just really into the idea.

He hums in the back of his throat, it’s gravelly, laced with the pleasure he’s evidently gaining from this. You can feel him plumping up beneath you.

You’re salivating over his half unbuttoned shirt. It’s borderline slutty, the way he walks around like that. Teasing his pecs and the top of his butterfly tattoo.

Sometimes you don’t know how people have a coherent conversation with him while he looks like that outside. Hair out, abs peaking through— it makes you almost nauseous.

He’d probably had his hair down during the earlier hours of the day, and then tied it up before you’d come over, since it’d been up since you went over this evening.

As much as your a fan of the manbun— trust me, no one loves that bun like you do— you want his hair out.

So your hands lace behind his neck, sliding up to where the hair-tie securing his hair was. You start to tug on it.

It was in tighter than you’d initially expected— causing you to be practically just pulling on it— and nothing could’ve prepared you for the moan that comes out of him.

“God— you’re— shit.” His hips snap up against you. Hard. You almost laugh at how unexpected it was.

“Harry,” You begin, and there’s a teasing yet aroused edge to your voice, “are you getting worked up over me pulling you hair?”

He can’t even verbalise the heat that flushed through him as that happened, his jaw gone lax.

Your fingers wrap around the hair-tie again, tugging it out, earning another groan from him. You don’t stop there though, not after seeing him react like this. You gather up his hair into a make shift ponytail, pulling on it, gauging his reaction again.

His lips scrape up your neck as he tilts his head back to follow the pull.

“Didn’t know you liked getting your hair pulled, huh.” You said, tightening your grip and bringing his eyes to lock with yours.

“Fuck— I didn’t… I didn’t know.” He hissed at your teasing, pushing his hips up to your core again, trying to relieve a little pressure.

“Seems like a pretty submissive trait if you ask me? Like being a bottom hm?”

“Shut up.” He huffs, but you just grip his hair tighter.

Reaching down, you undo a few more buttons on his shirt, “Already half undone for me.”

He pulls at your sweatpants, tugging them off with only a minor struggle. Beginning to palm over you through your underwear, which is damp already.

“Already so wet. Feel it through y’underwear, babe.” He groans, kissing your neck.

You start unbuttoning his jeans, and he lifts his hips and helps you pull them down below his thighs.

“Want me on top? Want me to ride you in the backseat of your car?” You pull his cock out from his briefs, salivating at the sight.

The two of you seemed to be dancing, swapping who was leading every few steps and it was weird to experience. But it was hot regardless, seeing him act so submissive yet dominant in a span of moments.

“Jesus, ‘course I do.” He takes his hand, pushing your underwear to the side, sliding his fingers through your slit.

He drags your arousal up to your clit, drawing fast circles over you that has your stomach clenching. You move his hand away, replacing it with the head of his cock, earning a shared moan from the two of you.

One hand is still tangled up in his hair as you sink down his length about half way before allowing a moment to adjust and take a breath.

“Still so fuckin’ tight Y/N. Anyone would think I’d never fucked y’with my cock before.” He moaned, hands cupping your ass and squeezing.

“Y’still feel huge, H.” You feel him pulse within you as you slide a little further down.

As you feel the stretch, you let out that tension on his hair— yanking it back more.

“Don’t— baby— you’re gonna make me come.” He moans, thighs tensing under you.

“Hold it.” You say, getting to the very base of him and rolling your hips against him.

“Shit…” He curses, and you lean forward to kiss his adams apple, licking a stripe up to his chin.

You begin bouncing on him, starting up a rhythm that has his eyes rolling back into his head.

His hand slides forward from your ass, and down to play with your clit.

The car was genuinely swaying, and with the way the both of you were panting, you were beginning to fog up the windows.

He pinches your clit, and you give a rough tug on his brown curls.

The two of you are undoing eachother, so fast it’s giving you whiplash.

The groans coming from him are unmatched though, and you never thought he’d be so into this.

“Fucking dirty, Harry. Didn’t think you’d love getting pulled on like this. Like a slut would.” Jerking his head back to meet your eyes again, his pupils are blown out with pleasure.

“Y/N—“ he moans, and you purposefully squeeze around his cock.

“Cant admit it, can you? That you’re just a fucking slut.” You say, holding him in place.

“I’m gonna— Jesus Christ— gonna come if you keep pulling on me like this.”

You bounce harder over his cock, kissing his jaw and lips as you ignore the burn in you legs and the pit of your stomach.

His fingers are fucking your clit with a matched pace to your bounces, and your resolve starts to crumble beneath you.

“Harry—“ you cry as his fingers slip all over your absolutely soaked clit.

“Come. Just fucking come on my cock, please!” He begs, and your whole body tenses as it happens.

You thighs are shaking as you come around his dick, so hard your digging the nails of your free hand into his shoulder. The other has got his hair in a vice-like grip.

That combined with the clenching of your cunt, Harry can’t hold it a second longer— his own moans are sounding seconds after yours.

“Fuckfuckfuck—“ he hisses, abs clenching as his warm ropes of come shoots into you.

It takes a moment to come down from your highs. And you’re both still shaking as you begin to untangle yourselves from one another.

“You’re probably gonna have a sore scalp tomorrow.” You laugh a little as he tucks himself gently back into his briefs, wincing a little at the sensitivity of his cock.

“Worth it, I guess…” he admits quietly.

“It’s hot you know? You pulling on my hair like that. Nearly came when you first did it.”

“Well fuck, I think it’s hot you like having your hair pulled.” You shrug, kissing his lips.

“M’ glad. Means you’ll do it again.”

“Anytime, Harry.” You smile, half joking, half not.

———

dom y/n, sub!h, and sub!z being punished

collars

summary: collars & leashes!

warnings: coarse language, use of collars and leashes

pairings: harry styles x fem!reader x zayn malik

•••

Y/N thinks this is the filthiest thing she had ever seen in her life.

At her feet, both Zayn and Harry were kneeling in front of her, patiently waiting for her to do something. Their hands were obediently behind their backs, not daring to touch themselves unless she told them too. They were completely at her mercy, willing to do anything she wanted ever since she put those black collars around their necks and attached a leash to them.

“Why are you being punished?” She asked Harry softly, tilting his chin up so he would be looking up at her.

“Was being bad.” He said, quietly, and too quietly for Y/N’s liking. She tugged at the leash, making him gulp.

“Was being bad.” He said louder, heat rising to his cheeks.

“Is that right?” She smiled, tilting Zayn’s chin up as well so they were both looking at her.

Y/N wanted to make them cry.

Zayn thinks he’s gonna pass out soon from how painfully hard he is. He had been hard the entire time, ever since she pushed him down onto his knees, and his cock was straining against the fabric of his pants. He had to hold back the urge to touch himself, using all of his self-control to.

“Do I not treat you two well enough? You’re always acting like such brats, acting like little whores.”

🏷: @them-fucking-crows, @ghostofwillow, @planetflos, @harrycanyonmoonn, @bxtchboy69, @poppet05, @eddies-wh0re, @harringt8ns, @lyricalniall, @venusincleo (couldn’t tag you!), @bxbun111, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @ambrosia-bloom, @estrellarimar (couldn’t tag you!), @goldenhrry, @cinnamongirlrry, @manifestrry, @drewandenyasfirstborn, @sad1esgf, @taylorsreputationsversion, @violetsandfluff, @purplefishingline

Texting Boyfriend Harry Styles Part 1: That’s Odd

Masterlist: here

A/N: I haven’t done a lot with Harry in a very long time so be gentle while I get back in the groove of writing for him. But enjoy the first installment of the boyfriend Harry series!✨

*Harry should’ve known his surprise would end up like this also you are going to have a very long talk with a certain Irishman*