#HELLO | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

monicaalexandraaa · 9 hours ago

Text

HOT WOW😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

This was so good! The back and forth and banter between them was everything. Loving her confidence and he matches her energy so well. Loved this🩷🩷

Summary: You're at frat party, drunk, but how do you convince Harry to stay when he's demanding you leave...Nothing better than a Fratboy!Harry attitude.

A/N: This story was based on this ->bot<- by the lovely @misspossessiveharry who was so freaking kind and let me use the idea for a quick smut shot! If you're a bot lover, go check her out. She's amazing!!

Word count: 5.8k

Warning: Reader Insert, Pure Fucking Filth, Basically Blow Job Smut. Take it or leave it, you've been warned!

It wasn’t what Harry wanted—to be here.

Surrounded by people.

He knew he was already over it the second he felt the music thumping so hard, he could feel it through his chest like a pestering annoyance he couldn’t shake. Everywhere he looked was chaos, people packed tight into the crowded room not giving a single fuck about personal space, and that was fine because he knew what he was getting himself into when he agreed to come.

It wasn’t until he looked over and watched as beer splashed down someone’s arm beside him, lighting another spark of annoyance, and with the flick of his glance, he spotted someone off in the distance throwing up in a corner not even second-guessing their action, and the couch, god the fucking couch, don’t even get him started on the couch. It looked like it might collapse under the weight of the people on it, and as little as that was, it had him at his breaking point for the night.

He was not having fun, but you were.

Tour had just ended with the boys, so he decided to come visit you at Uni for the weekend. He knew he hated this kind of party, but you wanted to go. You had said something about needing a night to blow off steam, how school had been killing you lately, and you just missed being young and dumb for a night.

And he got it. He really did. It was a feeling he knew all too well.

At first, he thought it was cute. The way you clung to him with your drink in hand, dancing like nothing else in the world mattered, your body pressed to his, getting closer as you laughed into his neck, everything funnier the more you drank. He could tell you were tipsy, teetering on the edge of drunk, but not too far gone, at least not yet.

But an hour in, things seemed to shift, because somehow he had lost you. He had only taken his eyes off you for two damn minutes to get you water, and when he turned back, you were on the fucking table, arms in the air, your hair a wild mess around your face, shirt slipping a little too far off your shoulder, and holy fuck, then you started shouting the lyrics to some old Katy Perry song like it was the national anthem, laughing like you were on top of the world, and for a second Harry froze. A jolt of panic as he watched you wobble, a cute, careless smile splayed across your face.

And there he stood, torn between playing Mr. Safety and giving you your freedom. Part of him thought you were adorable, but the rest of him was screaming that this wasn’t okay. Not because He didn’t trust you, but because the room was full of people he didn’t trust. Not a single bit, especially the guy near the edge of the table leaning in with a smirk, saying something to his friend, and when he pointed at you, Harry’s heart began to race.

That’s when he started pushing through the crowd, ignoring the spilled drinks and elbows in his side. You didn’t even see him coming; you were so lost in your own world. It wasn’t until he was right there in front of you, hands on your waist, lifting you down to the ground, and you gasped, eyes wide, but before you could say anything, Harry hoisted you up and over his shoulder like some damn cliché, a fucking, ‘Captin save a ho’ kind of moment and all Harry heard was:

“Harry! What the hell!” But you were laughing, slapping his back, kicking your feet as Harry’s hand patted your ass to console you.

“Okay, that’s enough. We’re going home—” He demands, not even trying to hide the edge in his voice, because yes, at this point, he was getting frustrated as He started walking, one hand on your thigh to steady you, the other pushing open the front door like it might swing off the hinges, and as soon as the night air hit his face he sucked in a deep breath, still pissed at the world around him.

He needed to get the hell out of here, yet there you were fighting him as you wriggled the entire way down the steps, but fuck that, he wasn’t going to put you down until he reached the car, until he knew you wouldn’t run away, and when he did, of course you stumbled, catching yourself on the side mirror, mascara smudged, your eyes glossy.

You looked up at him then, all flushed cheeks and a breathless grin.“I was just having fun,” you whined, barely above a whisper. Harry couldn’t help but sigh, brushing a loose strand of hair off your face.

“I know, love. I know you were.” And you sway forward, and Harry catches you again, hands on your waist like muscle memory.

And your hands grip the fabric of his shirt for stability. “Listen, I’m not letting you fall off a table and break your neck in front of a bunch of drunk strangers, alright?” To his surprise, this makes you laugh, and you lean into his chest, mumbling something he couldn’t quite catch, and when your arms wrap around his middle, that seems to be enough for him.

“C’mon,” He whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Let’s get you home.”

That’s when, of course, you chose to protest because your night wasn’t over just because his was. “Home?” you ask, pushing from his chest.

“You heard me,” He said, reaching behind to yank open the passenger door to nudge you inside, but you refused, crossing your arms, ready to put up a fight.

“Please don’t give me that look. What? Do you want to stay the night at a frat party?”

Harry watched the pull between your brow deepen, “You said you would be down to party tonight?”

“Yes, love, and that’s exactly what we’ve done. Now all that’s left in there is a bunch of morons I wouldn’t trust to watch a hamster, and you’re all cute and drunk and too trusting—”

“Baby—” you plead.

Harry sighs, “Don’t ‘baby’ me. You’re not talking me out of this one…just get in the car.” He tells you, giving you another nudge.

“What if we just stay a little longer…we could find a quieter place…like one of those rooms upstairs? I’m not getting in that car.”

This makes him laugh, and he shakes his head. “Babe, you must be drunker than I thought…you think I’m going to go back in there?”

“Only good things could happen…if we do…if you let it.” And you both stare back at each other, a silent indifference, and when the corner of your mouth turns up, Harry can’t help but return the smirk, his body humming with the thought of your hands all over him.

“Fine…” is all he says, staring back at the house, his eyes trained on a couple of people stumbling out, and when he looks back, your looking at him all wide-eyed, and fucking hopeful and how could he resist you, or stay mad at you when your so goddamn cute.

He grabs hold of your hand then, “Okay, just because we’re going back in doesn’t mean I’m letting you out of my sight. Got it?” He pushes as your eyes lock onto his.

“Fine…god, you’re so bossy sometimes…” You breathe, stumbling forward as he begins to walk.

He looks back with an amused smirk, “Yeah, but you love it.” He says as you reach the porch stairs, and you both duck past a few people already making out by the front door, and Harry makes sure that you’re close behind him, not trusting anyone to touch you.

As you weave through the crowd, Harry gives your hand a squeeze here and there, keeping you focused. When you stumble again, he pulls you around to his front, his chest to your back, and he wraps an arm around your waist. Your body now secure with his.

“Baby…wait, I’m so fucking dizzy. I need water…I think.” You tell him, stopping dead in your tracks.

Harry couldn’t tell if you were serious or playing games, but he could see the dizziness in your gaze, a drunk glaze in your eyes.

“For fucks sake.” He huffs.

That’s when Harry pulls you to the side, forcing you back against the wall, keeping a firm grip on your hips. “Stay here for a sec...”

“Make me—” You tell him. Plain and simple.

And here’s the thing. Harry was used to your stubbornness, but not like this, not when you were all pliable and flushed like this, your whole body silently begging him to touch you, and he steps closer, trapping you between his body and the wall, hands still on your hips.

“Is this not enough? I thought this was what you wanted?” He asks, his voice a teasing whisper as he leaned in even closer, and he pinches your hip, making you squirm under his touch.

“Is it ever enough?” You answer, shifting the conversation, gazing up at him, and you tuck your hands behind your back, nudging your hips forward just enough to meet his.

Harry reaches for your chin, hooking a finger to tilt your gaze toward him, “No,” He tells you, his minty breath fanning over your face, and there goes your hips again, pressed flushed to his, making his dick stir.

He liked this side of you, how confident you are when you drink, not that you weren’t always confident, but this was different. You knew exactly what you wanted right now, even if you might regret it in the morning. “It’s never enough. I want more—” You push.

Harry smirks, feeling the warmth rising between you, and fuck you were the perfect flush, your lips parted, and fucking begging for attention, and this is what he wanted. He wanted you just like this, he thought, as his thumb traced over your bottom lip, and he could see your eyes darting to his mouth as your lips closed around the very tip of his thumb.

“You want more?” he rasps, his tone dipping lower, and he knew you wanted more by the way you pulled his hips toward you as your back slammed against the wall.

“You said you were going to take me to one of the rooms, sir…you know, upstairs.”

“Sir, huh?” He repeats, forcing his need into the grip on your hips as he pins you against the wall. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“You did…” and you lick your lips then, sending a spark to Harry’s growing bulge, and he knows he needs to get you alone soon, before his dick is rock hard, about to be on display for the whole fucking world to see.

To your surprise, Harry leans down and wraps his arms around your waist, then lifts you up against his chest. Without thought, you wrap your legs around him and bury your face into his neck, but he can feel your grin growing against his skin, and when you say:

“You smell so good, my love.”

You draw a laugh from him, “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.” and your teeth sink into his neck for being a smart ass.

“I can walk you know…” You tell him, on the verge of protesting again, and you both knew all you would have to do is drop your legs, but Harry tightened his hold on you anyway.

“I’m not fighting with you. I don’t want you to trip and fall and bust your ass, then I would just have to carry you anyway, enough with the bitching and moaning, miss.”

When you laugh into Harry’s skin it sends a shiver down his spine, “If you don’t want me to bitch, you better make me moan.” And fuck, you were naughty tonight, everything about you sending Harry to the edge and he hadn’t even gotten you fully alone.

Once Harry reaches the top of the landing, he slaps your ass hard, making you laugh out as the fire settles into your ass cheek, “Put me down, I’m a big girl, I can walk on my own.” you say, starting to kick your feet.

But of course, he doesn’t listen as he pushes through one of the open doors, and kicks it shut behind you guys, locking it as the world spins around you, “Okay, big girl…Your wish is granted…” and he gently sits you down on the bed.

That’s when you reached up and tried to pull him down, but he stayed standing, looking down at you with a smirk. “Baby—don’t make me beg.” You pout up at him.

“Hmm…and what if I do?” he asks, a hand resting against your face as his thumb strokes your cheek, and he has to fight the urge to just kiss that stupid, drunk look off your face, because it’s so fucking tragic, and sexy—and fuck.

“I don’t beg,” you tell him, reaching for his belt, “I take what I want…”

The urgency in your movements catches him off guard, and he lets out a soft huff, “Do you now?” he pokes, as your hands fumble with his belt, and he wraps a hand around your wrist, holding you still.

“Careful,” he warns, his voice dipping. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, love?”

Your laugh fills the space then, “Baby, I could do this with my eyes closed. Trust me.” and with your free hand, you continue on with your task, and that was to obviously get him naked.

There was something about your driving force tonight that was driving him insane. He didn’t know if it was your confidence or the alcohol pumping through your system, but his grip tightened on your wrist as you carried on, his knuckles white from the restraint, because he needed it. Every ounce of it, and somehow that was the only thing keeping him calm.

“Trust…yes, trust—” he muttered, clenching his jaw, his eyes roaming over you as you tried to undress him, taking in the sloppy state you were in, your breathless expression, the way you bit your fucking lip as you looked up at him through thick lashes, and he knew he was fucked—that he had to fuck you in this bed, tonight, or he would explode.

“You’re mine.” You tell him, pulling the belt from his pants, every movement messy.

And he watches you struggle with the button on his jeans, “I’m yours…” He echoes almost in a daze, his voice huskier than before, and he drops your wrist, placing a hand on your shoulder, his grip tightening when he feels the button of his jeans give way, and he gasps out in relief, his dick already pressing hard in his jeans.

“You in a hurry, love?” He asks when you tug at the him of his shirt

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at your uncoordinated movements, “I’m not in a hurry, babe, I just fucking need this.” you say, the words flying out in frustration as you gaze up at him.

The hunger in your eyes was undeniable. Harry let you tug on his shirt, feeling the fabric pull up over his stomach as you tried to signal for him to remove it.

“I know you do, baby,” he whispers, his hand moving to the nape of your neck. “You need me that bad, huh? You need this?” He asks, smoothing a hand over his lengthy bulge, now perfectly outlined through his skinny jeans.

And your eyes never leave his stroking hand. “Off…take it all off!”

“Little Miss Bossy,” He mutters, but his lips curl with an amused smirk, and he lets go of you just long enough to pull his shirt off over his head, feeling your breath fan over his skin as you sat there and watched his every move, your hands already on his bare chest as soon as possible, tracing over his skin like you were trying to reacquaint yourself.

That’s when you lean forward and lick across the tattoo inked at the center of his chest, “So good…” and then your eyes flick to his as you stand to take his nipple into your mouth. “Baby, this body is fucking gold.”

Harry’s hands grip the back of your head as you move, his eyes closing for a moment, and his fingers tangle in your hair. The fucking sensation of your hot wet mouth on his skin was driving him crazy, and he inhales sharply, his chest rising and falling with the effort under your touch.

“Baby…you’re killing me,” he breathes, his voice heavy with want.

“You like this?” you ask, moving to his other nipple, and then your

moving back down, slowly lowering to your knees before him, and Harry follows your gaze to his open jeans, his bulge hard as a fucking rock.

Harry’s breath grows shorter, shallower as he looks down at you. “I love this so much, love…I love all of you.”

“Good, now can I have a taste?” You ask, licking those beautiful lips of yours, already getting them ready for him.

Harry hooks a finger under your chin, lifting it up so he can see your face. His thumb finds your bottom lip, tugging gently as the words leave his mouth.“Go ahead, baby. Have a taste...”

Your hands reach for his jeans, then, working them past his hips, bringing his boxers with them. “Oh fuck baby…” and Harry listens to the gasp leave your mouth as his huge dick springs before you.

When he peeks back down, he watches as your eyes widen and your mouth falls open, and the sounds you keep making has his cock twitching against his thigh.

“Something wrong, love?” He teases, feigning innocence, but he can’t help teasing you like this, and his hand finds your hair again, his fingers twisting, and he gives you a gentle tug.

“See something you like, or is it too much?”

You swallow hard, resting your hands on the tops of your thighs, as Harry observes you intently, your eyes taking in every inch of him, your lips parting, looking so, so tempting.

“You’re a sight on your knees like this, you know that?” he says, his voice growing ragged, and he uses his hand in your hair to tug your head back, making you look up at him, but all you do is smile, a fucking wicked smile playing at your lips and he knows, what’s coming next, and he’s already trying to hold his composure, because he couldn’t dare give himself away.

Yet that smile gets him every time, even in your current state, “Yeah, You know you look good like this, don’t you love?” and this time when he runs his thumb over your bottom lip, he presses harder, watching the flesh indent around the pressure as he pulls it down. “So, fucking pretty.”

“I want it!” you force.

“You want this?” Harry asks, taking his hard dick into his hand, “Is this what you want, baby?” and his voice is soft, playful as he runs a hand down his shaft. Your eyes are locked on his cock as it drops, heavy against his leg, and he leans down and captures your mouth with his, his hand still holding your hair, and when he pulls back he let’s his lips graze over your ear. “I’m gonna need a little more than that, love.”

“Harry—I need that fucking dick in my mouth,” you tell him, straightening your spine, and Harry can hear the impatience in your tone, but it’s only feeding his want.

“That’s my good girl,” He coos, his smile matching yours as it spreads across his face, and his hand tightens in your hair, keeping you in place.

“How do you want it, Love?” he asks in a low voice. “You want me to play nice?”

And his words make you laugh, “I want you to choke me with it. I want to gag on this thick cock until I can’t breathe.” You tell him, wrapping your hand around his girth. “Fuck, baby! It’s so big, I fucking love this dick. Don’t play nice…I’ll know if you’re holding back.”

The look on your face sends a rush of excitement down his spine, and his breath leaves his lips with a huff of anticipation. That’s when his hand in your hair tightens and he draws your face even closer to his cock, guiding you to exactly where you needed to be, your mouth so close to the head of his dick he could feel the warmth of your breath graze over the tip, “Let me see you try and put that pretty little mouth around this cock. You know it won’t even fit. Tell me how you’re going to make it happen?”

God, the smirk that rises on your face sends a fucking ping straight to his dick, and it pulses in your hand, “I’m gunna have to be a good girl, right? Get it all wet before, is that what you taught me, baby?”

“Yeah, love…just like that...” He breathes, eyeing you lick a teasing stripe up the underside of his shaft, your hot, wet tongue working slowly and tediously, as your hand begins to stroke what your mouth can’t reach.

“Damn, you look so fucking hot like this, baby. Your eyes all blown…shit…looking at me like that.” and he leans down to brush a loose strand of hair out of your face so he can watch the tip of his dick disappear into your mouth.

“Mmmm…” you hum, sending the vibration down his dick, and he halts his hips, trying not to buck them forward, and you rip his dick from your mouth, “What did I tell you…no holding back.”

And Harry feels the pressure on the base of his dick, tighten, and he bites down on his lower lip, trying to suppress his smile, “Baby—” he says, his voice, grovel under your touch.

“If you do it again, sir, we stop…got it?” you demand, and Harry nods, lacing his hands behind his head, an act of surrender, and the second his dick is on your mouth again, you both moan, a low noise filling his ears as he closed his eyes.

Your tongue hits first, broad and flat, landing with a vulgar smack that sounded around the room, a sound that broke any illusion of grace you had left. Your mouth began to work then, trying to scrape him across every tastebud you had, before you took the head of his cock back into the cavern of your mouth.

There was nothing coy about the way you sucked: no gentle preamble, no teasing flicks. Because you were over the games and Harry could tell by the way you forced your mouth down over the tip, your jaw already straining, lips peeled back, and fuck, Harry had to look, gazing down as your shiny lips wrapped around him, spit pooling at the corners, readying to drip down your chin in clear, ropy strands.

This time, when Harry bucked his hips, his hand flew down to your scalp as if by reflex, fingers diving in and clamping tight, using your head as a handle, aggressive in the way that you wanted to play, because he wasn’t holding back this time, and the hum across his dick said you liked the violence of it—the surprise in his touch, the reflexive need to claim you.

But Harry knew you were in control; he could feel it with every stroke as your gaze held his, even as you took on more of him, the girth forcing your jaw to hinge open further.

He knew there was no comfort, but you kept working, taking the challenge like the fucking pro you were, needy for him, and then your tongue was dragging along the ridge beneath his crown, a rough stuttering line grating across your palate, your fucking eyes watering—And all Harry could do was stand there, anticipating every move, knowing that the back of your throat burned with the promise of everything he wanted in that moment.

Then you pulled back until just the tip was resting on your tongue, and dammit, Harry lost control then, and his hips strained up, desperate to fill the sudden emptiness, greedy for the warmth of your mouth, and you let him hover there as your lips tightened around his thick circumference, letting him go with a loud pop.

You smacked his dick against your lips then, and as it bounced his eyes were trained on your mouth, spit rising to the surface, gathering into a puddle, pooling into a bubble at the center of your mouth, and you smacked your lips harder this time, the sound loud and wet. It was pure fucking filth, your hand stroking down his dick as you dragged the spit across your lips, a fresh sheen of gloss, ready to wet his dick even more—your mouth a sloppy paradise beckoning to bring Harry home.

And, holy fuck, the second you flicked the tip of your tongue up his slit, he let out a fucking groan so loud it filled the room, guttural and messy, like he’d been holding in every noise for months and they were just now escaping, and maybe he had, because it had been a while since you were on your knees for him.

The more noise Harry made, the more it fed your determination: the little choked gasps, the involuntary twitches, the way Harry’s thighs tensed and quivered, and when you plunged back down, nose smashing into his soft pubic hair, you drew in a hard breath, your throat relaxing as you took him completely in your mouth.

Out of nowhere, Harry made a sound so unhinged it almost startled him. And as you laughed, your throat constricted around him, then you let out a loud gurgle, your mouth flooding with spit, and as you choked, Harry felt the overflow of saliva spill down his balls, coating them in a dense shine that caught the light—and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take of this.

God, you were a machine. No, not a machine—you were a fucking creature, a single-purpose transforming you into some kind of animal, evolved for just this, for him. Your jaw working in a slick, insistent rhythm, cheeks hollowing with each pull, your mouth becoming the dark bottom of a well, and when you hummed around his shaft, making him twitch in response, the sound vibrated up your tongue and through his cock straight into his spine.

Your hands were barely even moving, and it was still fucking bliss. One hand cradled his balls, rolling them with obscene tenderness, the other stroking what your mouth couldn’t reach, wrist twisting on every upstroke. When you squeezed at the base, Harry’s cock pulsed, his perfect dick a shade deeper, and you pressed your thumb to the spot where his shaft met his body, making him cry out again, sharper this time, voice cracking in midair.

His grip on your head tightened, desperate and vicious, but you didn’t let up. If anything, you doubled down, slurping harder, faster, using every ounce of suction your cheeks could muster. “Jesus—fuck, fuck—” Harry hissed, his voice strangled and high. “You’re—Christ, you’re going to—”

And with no hesitation, you cut him off by taking him deep again, this time swallowing around his head, flattening your tongue, and relaxing your throat. Harry could feel the head of his cock punch past your gag reflex, and you let your eyes roll up, watering freely now, tears streaking down your beautiful face in perfect, ravaged lines.

That’s when you gagged, coughing but forced him down again, harder, until your lips met his base and his cock was buried, deeper than you had ever taken him before, deeper than he thought possible, and christ, Harry’s whole body shuddered, contracting like he might come just from the feeling of you suffocating on his dick.

You drew back with a gasp, choking on air, and you spat a glob of spit down his shaft as pre-come cascaded down your chin, then you dove back in with a desperate hunger that Harry knew was about to send him over the edge. Every time you pulled off, a spit-slicked string connected your mouth to his cock, stretching and breaking with a little pop. But this wasn’t the time to worry about the mess, and you continued with the achingly good twist of your wrists, your hand moving up and down his shaft, jerking him as you licked and sucked the head, working him into a state of perfect, desperate need.

And he wanted to stay like this forever.

Harry tried to hold back, and he knew you could see it, his jaw clenched, the cords in his neck straining like steel cables. But he was failing, minute by minute, losing the fight as you pushed him closer to the thoughtlessness taking over him. He knew you wanted him to lose—that this was your plan all along, that you wanted to scrape every last drop of dignity from him, and he wanted you to. Wanted you to fucking destroy him with every savage move you made.

When you tongued the slit of his dick again, he watched your mouth slip over his head, and this time your tongue flicked at the slit, fast and mean, sending a craze through Harry’s entire body, and Harry bucked his hips hard, forcing his dick to the back of your throat, unable to control the movement as his hips pistoned up and down as he face-fucked you with a pathetic, desperate rhythm that had you gasping for air, but he didn’t stop, he wanted to watch you choke until you signaled to stop—your eyes streaming tear after tear, mascara leaving streaks of glory, and your eyes never left his.

He could tell you loved it as you opened wider, jaw probably aching, and you let him fuck your mouth however he wanted, your arms looping around his thighs to hold him in place, trying to keep him from retreating. Harry was moaning now, not even trying to stay quiet, making soft, broken noises that had you matching his moans between every gag or cough. Harry felt you reach with your free hand and you grabbed his ass, fingers digging in, using his body as leverage to pull him deeper into your face.

His cock was huge and he knew it, the sight of the struggle almost too much, but you told him you wanted all of it, and he wanted to give it to you. He wanted you wrecked, wanted to bruise your throat with every pump, wanted you to taste him in your nose, your sinuses, behind your fucking eyes for hours after if it was even possible.

He wanted to choke you with his length, let his tip ram into the soft tissue at the back of your throat with a brutality he knew that only you could take as you fought the urge to gag—fuck your throat until it overwhelmed you—and that’s what he did as he felt you splutter all over his drenched cock, snot running from your nose, a fucking beautiful disaster but you obviously didn’t care. He was going to ruin you, destroy you, leave you dripping and breathless and marked as his.

Because you were his, and he was yours.

Harry saw you reach down then, busting the button open on your jeans, and you slipped two fingers under the waistband, and he knew you were soaked, you had to be, his mind imagining the slippery arousal coating your fingers, knowing this had nothing to do with Harry and everything to do with the act of giving yourself over to this—this monster of a master piece—the two of you slipping into a beautiful oblivian as you fingered yourself, sucking his dick in and out of your mouth, rolling your own pleasure into the sound amplified around Harry’s cock.

He was close now, and you must have known it, a smirk tilting the corner of your mouth as his peak climbed, his balls tightened, his hand shaking in your hair as an animalistic panic rose in his voice. “Fuck, I’m—please—”

And you pulled off just long enough to drag your tongue along the length of his shaft, from base to tip, swirling it around the head before sinking him back inside. It was torture, the pleasure that filled him, a fucking master of your craft. You wanted him to watch, that teasing gaze, staring up at him with a devastating beauty that stole his breath. Because this was love, pure and simple, you destroying yourself, he thought, watching your mouth stretch obscenely wide, keeping that same eye contact as you tongued the underside of his cock, never breaking the connection.

That was all he needed, your eyes, your mouth, and he came with a shout like you were stealing his soul, his whole body rigid, hips bucking forward as his cock pulsed inside your mouth. The first spurt was volcanic, thick and hot, hitting the back of your throat so hard you nearly choked again. But like the good girl you were, you swallowed it down, greedily, milking him, all lips and tongue, not letting a single drop escape you. The next spurt was almost as strong, and the next, until he was spent, cock twitching weakly against your relaxing jaw.

When he felt his dick slide from your mouth, the tip of his cock dragged against your teeth, and he watched you wipe your chin with the back of your hand, dutifully showcasing your mouth—wide, tongue out, glistening with come and spit—then you closed your lips with a smirk and swallowed it all in one noisy gulp.

Harry was stunned, his mind unearthed, somewhere above still floating on the cloud you left him on, and all he could do was stare at you, your eyes glassy, cheeks fucking flushed, your chest rising and falling, heavy as you caught your breath.

He felt like a man who had just seen god, somehow crawling back on his knees less holy than before as he smiled down at you, and he reached down, stroking your hair, worshipful, yet to your surprise, almost shy now, and this made you smile as you wiped the last trail of spit from your cheek, and he pulled you to your feet, lips swollen and red, throat raw but satisfied.

“Holy fuck,” Harry whispered. “You’re amazing…”

You laughed, soft, but wolfish. “I said I wanted that dick.” You tell him, your voice ragged.

Harry could only nod, still panting, cock lying heavy and half-hard against his thigh.

You wrapped your arms around him, and he slid his fingers into your jeans, wanting to feel your wetness, kissing along your jaw that he knew had to be sore, and when he found what he wanted, he pushed his fingers inside you just enough to wet the tips.

Harry pulled his fingers out then, slipping them into his mouth, groaning in your ear, “If you let me take you home, I’ll fuck this sweet pussy all night, make you come as hard as you made me” he said, pushing his rasp into the flesh of your neck.

You pulled away with a grin, “You better fuck me so hard I can’t fucking speak…”

“Baby, I’ll fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow, and that’s a promise”

“Then you better take me home…now”

Taglist: @sassamanda77 @harryyloverrr @panini @unfuckwitablenarry @triski73 @haleyannaw @dipmeinhoneyh @lizsogolden @spinninc @iloveharrystyles04 @mema10 @avas-queen-black @starshollowgazette @practistyles

Other One-Shots<-

#dirty and delicious #the way he talks to her too #“You want this?”#When he lifts her up to carry her to a room loved that too #No not a machine—you were a fucking creature a single-purpose transforming you into some kind of animal evolved for just this for him.#HELLO #Wanted you to fucking destroy him with every savage move you made.#HELLOO #He wanted you wrecked wanted to bruise your throat with every pump #wanted you to taste him in your nose your sinuses behind your fucking eyes for hours after if it was even possible.#HELLOOOOO #Because you were his and he was yours. love #this monster of a master piece #kissing along your jaw that he knew had to be sore <3 #love love love #so good so good #hot hot hot #harry styles fic rec #fic rec #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine

204 notes · View notes