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temptress-writes · 1 year

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📺 Sugar

A/N: Welcome to The Tonight Show with Harry Styles. The year is 1964, and you are his assistant. He's a bit of a shit. So this is a fun one.

C.W: sexual content: kinda rough— choking, spanking, degradation, slapping, spitting, squirting.

18+ ONLY.

***

New York City, 1964.

"Red leather, yellow leather, red leather, yellow leather."

The bright lights heated him even from behind the curtain. A warmth that coasted alongside his adrenaline. He struggled to keep his body cool underneath his designer sweater, felt his feet tapping restlessly in his leather oxfords.

This was his favourite part.

The cheers, the introduction, the attention.

You ran the lint roller over his shoulders as he sipped steaming tea from a paper cup. You made sure the collar of his plaid shirt was straight as it peeked out from his red sweater.

Another sip of steaming tea, another tongue twister.

"She sells..." You coached.

He took in a deep breath, watching you as you made sure he appeared perfect, rearranging the groomed curls on his head. Your green dress stood brightly against the black of the stage, the white cuffs of it framing your wrists as you fussed over his hair.

"She sells seashells by the seashore."

"One minute till curtain!" The stage manager yelled as he breezed by. "How're you feeling, Mr. Styles?"

"Like a million bucks, Sal!"

"That's the spirit!" Sal chuckled, running towards the side of the stage, probably chasing after an intern who wasn't doing their job properly.

"Remember, you're meeting your parents for dinner after this." You reminded, ticking off the mental to-do list that was really his. It was clogging your mind but after all, it was your job.

"I haven't forgotten." He rolled his eyes. Yes, you were his assistant, but he found you controlling at times and he had little patience for women who tried to control him. He preferred to be the one in charge.

"But you'll still find a way to be late, anyway." You stepped back with a huff. He really did make your job a living hell.

"I'm taking a refreshment in my dressing room after the show."

You scrunched up your face in disgust. Refreshment. You hated that you knew it was code for a visit from a desperate groupie. You remember when he told you how he chose which girl he liked the best. You'd been watching the audience file in and he appeared behind you, chewing gum with a confident pop of his jaw.

"Let me scope it out."

"Why?"

"Like to see who's gonna join me for a post-show soirée. See those girls?" He pointed to a group of overdressed girls, all giggling and excited for the show to start. "Bingo."

"How do you know which one to pick?"

He shot you a look, clicking his tongue. "The tits, sugar. I always pick the girl with the biggest tits."

"Ugh." You rolled your eyes. "You're disgusting."

"I'm just messin'," He tilted his head. "I'm an ass man, too."

You shuddered at the recollection.

"Yes, Mr. Styles." Your voice was laced with a seething sarcasm that he raised a brow at.

He didn't seem to conceptualise that you talked that way because that's how he talked to you. He couldn't see past his blinding, misogynistic ego.

You were purely volleying it right back at him. In hindsight, it wasn't the smartest move because you really needed this job and he had a tendency to fire staff with a snap of his jeweled fingers. He'd made the past six months hard on you and he really made your blood boil.

Who knew becoming Harry Styles' assistant would be akin to babysitting a grumpy toddler?

The Tonight Show with Harry Styles.

Hilarious with guests, a major flirt, and entertaining — even when reading out news segments.

He was well-loved by everyone. For his fun fashion statements, for his guests, his charm, his whole fantasy world on his show. Worldwide, he was adored as the most entertaining and handsome talk show host.

But you knew what happened behind the scenes.

Poised and perfect on camera, but as soon as the director called cut, you had trouble convincing yourself it wasn't a joke. People of the television world had a different sort of ego and you struggled to breathe among it all. Harry hated mingling with guests before and after the show more than he had to, he hated when the crew bothered him, he hated being approached by fans for autographs because he had a headache — or whatever excuse he was offering that day.

Don't get it twisted — he loved the attention he got from being so famous. You were surprised his head wasn't bigger. The one thing he loved most about being so popular was the fact that he could have anyone on his knees for him, be between their legs, and have them at their disposal. And he treated them like that was their only use.

The charming and cheerful Harry Styles.

Purely a falsity of a man.

The crew fled from the stage as the band started playing the introduction theme music and you swept the cup from his hand. You replaced it with two certs breath mints that he chewed on routinely.

"Wish me good luck." He demanded as you gave him a once over.

You beamed. "Break a leg."

"Thanks, sugar."

"No, like trip and fall."

His smile dropped into an unamused glare. "Oh, bite me."

The music ensued, getting louder with an abundant cheer from the live crowd, the curtain preparing to lift to reveal him. You rushed off stage, your Mary Janes clicking on the floor before nodding to Sal who gave you two thumbs up.

"Filmed before a live studio audience..."

"...All the way from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire..."

Harry took a deep breath, already bathing in the adoration he garnered from simply existing.

"...Give it up for your host, the one, the only..."

You rolled your eyes as he mouthed along with the words as they were spoken.

"...Mr. Harry Styles!"

The curtain parted and he stepped forward, his hands waving to the crowd before clasping them together as he took a small bow. He blew kisses, thanking them for coming and welcoming them. He egged on the drummer of the band while the crowd cheered for him.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!"

More cheers that he absolutely cherished and bathed in, letting them fuel his ego.

"We've got a great show for you tonight, we have special guests The Everly Brothers joining us!"

Your job while Harry was doing his magic spiel on stage was to check in with him during commercial breaks, smooth his hair, offer him mints, refill his water. Also to make sure everything was perfect for him when he wrapped up. He was extremely demanding, and while you were warned of that when you first took the job, you were still so surprised just how needy he was.

He liked ham and tomato sandwiches exactly fifteen minutes before he was put into his hair and makeup chair. He liked a cup of hot tea right before air time, alongside a few tongue twisters. He went through packets of Certs breath mints faster than you thought humanly possible. He also wanted a cup of black coffee waiting for him directly after he got off stage.

He didn't like to talk to anyone on his way to his dressing room unless it was Sal congratulating him and inflaming his already huge ego. Or security telling him about a waiting groupie in his dressing room. Or you, running over his schedule or helping him memorise his script. Well, he didn't like talking to you. He more or less answered in grunts or irritated comments.

As Harry settled in for his show post the joke segment, you ran around backstage. Ordering his coffee and one for yourself because you couldn't keep up with his demands without your own shot of caffeine. You were due within minutes to refresh him during the breed.

It really was an exciting job, aside from being a woman in a man's world. You were treated as such but you were lucky enough to be given the job in the first place. At first, you were nervous around Harry. It took him a second to warm up to you.

The first time you met was when he found you in his dressing room before a show, bent over the vanity as you watered his flowers. He thought you were there for a completely different reason and had quickly started to unbuckle his belt.

"Alright, let's make this quick."

You then spotted him in the mirror and turned with a gasp. "What are you-"

And before it could have got any more awkward, before Harry could even fully unbuckle his belt, Sal stormed in with a shocked laugh.

"Oh!" His amused gaze flickered between the two of you. "Harry, I see you've met your new assistant."

"I don't need an assistant, Sal. We've been through this. Why do you think I got rid of the last one?"

"Well, of course, you do! She's just here to help you perform at your best, Styles. Try not to scare this one off."

And while he'd probably never admit it to you, you actually were very helpful to have around. Once you'd stopped being so awkward and nervous and jittery around him, you found a dynamic that worked. One where he could be a condescending male and you could be just as snappy right back to him.

Past assistants had stuck to him like a bad smell and only irritated him. You did what was expected of you. Nothing more, nothing less. You kept your little purse stocked with certs breath mints, lint rollers and kept that fact that he fucked fans in his dressing rooms after and sometimes before shows quiet.

But after all, everyone was well aware. They even congratulated him on his sexual success. Nothing grossed you out more.

Aside from Harry being a mildly misogynistic, cocky, well-dressed thorn in your side, you loved your job. You met exciting guests whom you only dreamed of meeting. Stars you had posters of in your apartment, musicians whose vinyls you span on your turntable.

In your first week on the job, you met Santo and Johnny. They'd just finished a performance of Sugar Song and they flirted with you until you were a blushing mess.

Harry had watched the interaction, grumbling about professionalism and waiting for them to leave so he could torment you about it.

"Got the hots do ya, little sugar?"

"Kiss off, Styles."

That was the most colourful thing you'd ever said to him. The shock of it raised his brows and sent a singeing pang of arousal directly to his crotch.

There was a part of Harry that wanted to hate you. Because you were a woman bossing him around and because you got on his nerves. But the more rational part of him knew he could never hate you. You were too helpful and he'd be lying if he said you weren't one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen. And he'd seen a lot of girls.

But he knew you were disgusted by his habits, how he slept with so many people. In his own sick way, he used it to his advantage, to keep you at arm's length. That and endless comments he knew would rile you up. And boy, did he rile you up. He'd finessed the art of it.

The show ran smoothly tonight, but by no means were you any less busy. You raced around with your clipboard tucked under your arm and two cups of coffee in either hand. You sipped on yours, grateful for the kick it gave. Harry was saying his goodnight to the crowd, his cup steaming in your left hand as you rushed to meet him.

"Thank you for spending the night with me, New York!"

His classic closing catchphrase. Cheeky and risky, but it was him and he got away with everything.

Thunderous applause overpowered the sound of your heels clicking as you turned a corner, beelining towards the stage exit. You were late. He'd be off stage by now, demanding things and barking orders like the diva he was.

As if you weren't going to hear an earful from him as it was, an intern bumped into you. The crash caused your two cups of coffee to spill all down the front of your dress. You barely noticed the burn.

"Seriously?" You seethed, holding your now empty cups out in exasperation.

"I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching-"

"You don't say."

You could hear Harry asking where you were and you groaned, absolutely vexed. You turned in the exact opposite direction of him and back to grab more coffee. You knew he'd especially need it tonight if he was meeting with his parents.

"What happened to you?" Sal guffawed and you rolled your eyes.

"If you see Harry, tell him that his coffee is coming."

"Bit hard getting it to him when you're wearing it."

"Not funny."

A few minutes later, you held a single coffee cup. Steaming, black. You wrapped both your hands around it, holding it steady and keeping far away from anyone who could bump you. Your dress had seen better days and the stain was obvious and uncomfortably wet.

You found your way back to his dressing room, where he'd no doubt holed himself up in to freshen up. You knocked, hoping he was alone and waiting for you before continuing on with his post-show... rituals.

"Come in!" You heard from the other side and you slipped inside quickly.

"So sorry, Mr. Styles, I had an accid- oh, my god!"

You took in the scene before you. Harry. With a girl on his knees in front of him. His jeweled fingers clenching a fistful of the girl's hair as she sucked him off. His brows were turned down in the middle but his eyes... his eyes were on you. And he was enjoying it. Enjoying the girl, and enjoying you watching.

"Alright, sugar?"

"I-" You didn't know what to say, and the girl didn't stop. You didn't know if that was her doing or if Harry was holding her down. You turned, and idiotically turned back around, taking the few steps towards him, and handed him his cup of coffee. You didn't meet his eyes, like a bumbling idiot.

You left the room, but not before hearing Harry take a hefty sip of his coffee and letting out a soft moan, "Oh, that's so good."

Vexed by his antics, and the fact that he made it his mission to throw you off like that, you signed out and went home. It was as vulnerable as you'd ever seen him and you felt an odd sense of jealously wash over you. Maybe you were jealous of past you, because she hadn't witnessed it. Or maybe there was a bit of jealousy there because you wanted to be the one on your knees for him.

As delightful as the thought was for a margin of a second, you felt ill knowing you'd be another Harry Styles groupie. And it would make your job more difficult which you didn't think was even possible.

But you couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. His blissful expression, the way he directed it at you as opposed to the mouth wrapped around him. He had told you to enter his dressing room so that you could see it.

The next night, you planned on fully avoiding him and pretending the whole thing never happened. Which was hard considering, you know, you were to follow him around and listen to his demands. And especially hard because you just wished he'd command you onto your knees already.

Sure, you found him extremely attractive — everyone did. You may have even had a little crush when you first met him. But then you got to know him, and his habits and his ways. Last night grossed you out just as much as it turned you on. You felt so thrown off and now you weren't sure how to act around him.

You arrived at the studio not too long before showtime, Harry's cup of tea in hand. You were a little bit late today but you figured he could survive fifteen minutes without you. He was in hair and wardrobe, getting his curls perfected and his forehead powered.

He sat in the chair with his legs spread, a pair of black dress pants and a white singlet, his inked arms on display. You focused on staying professional and met his eyes for a brief moment as you greeted him and handed him his cup of tea. No milk, and don't be shy with the honey, he'd told you when you first started.

His eyes scanned your attire, a pink dress with long sleeves but a shorter hem than usual, he noticed. He didn't hate having to look at your legs, your plump thighs, and the intrigue of what was between them ran rampant in his thoughts.

You had a soft yellow ribbon in your hair, keeping it swept away from your face in a high ponytail. He clenched his jaw, wishing it was his hand fisting your hair. He'd tie your hands up with the ribbon so you'd have to behave for him.

"Thanks. Dig pink on ya." He took a sip, his eyes full with mischief as he watched you over the rim of his cup. "Enjoy the show last night?"

You knew he was referring to you seeing him get blown by some random groupie so you ignored him, looking at your clipboard. "So Sal wants to see you in five, and we're reconfiguring some set pieces before airtime. So be on stage straight after you've seen him, okay?"

The hairstylist finished up, and you were left alone with him in the room. You were a lot stiffer tonight, more reserved than usual and he picked up on it right away. You raised a brow, wondering if he'd heard a single word you said.

He smirked. "Why did you come in last night? You know I have post-show celebrations in my dressing room."

"I was bringing you coffee! You told me to come in!" This man was exasperating. He knew that he'd asked you for coffee and told you to enter his dressing room after you'd knocked. He wanted you to see and now he was just winding you up.

He raised a brow. "Did I?"

"Five minutes." You reaffirmed. You tried to hide the way that his tone crept down your spine in slow, hot trickles.

He sat up in the chair, his hand reaching to cup the back of your lower thigh. You stopped breathing at the sudden touch and he pulled you towards him. His gaze was searing on yours, his eyes wondering and daring.

"You wanted to stay, didn't you? Watch me get my dick sucked while I watched you."

"No, I didn't." You whispered, letting him pull you forward until you were standing between his spread legs.

"No?"

"No." Even you weren't convinced by your answer.

"Hmm... you wanted to be the one on your knees for me. Is that it?"

You took a deep, shaky breath. His question fired something off in your brain. A realisation perhaps. You did want to be on your knees for him, being the reason for his pleasure, be at his command, make him feel good, make him fucking fall apart because of you.

"So pretty in this tiny fuckin' dress." He cooed. His hand came up, cupping your cheek. Your eyeshadow was a pretty soft blue and he adored it. His fingers trailed down, tracing your lower lip. "You'd look so perfect with my cock in your mouth."

You couldn't even suppress the whimper that ensued. Did you thank him? Slap him? Get on your knees and prove his point?

He didn't seem fazed by the fact that you weren't saying much. You were responding to him in other ways. Leaning right into him with your eyes lulled, your hands resting on his broad shoulders. Your chest heaving beneath that fucking pink dress. You were driving him crazy with how badly he wanted you.

The night before had been his own sick little test. Either, you'd be game, or you'd pull away from him completely. Regardless, he'd know where you stood and accept all that accompanied him. He knew how fucked up it was but you really seemed to enjoy the game.

His other hand squeezed the back of your thigh, inching higher. "What colour are your panties?"

You gasped at the question, so turned on by him and how bold he was. It used to scare you, but now being on the receiving end was a completely different ballpark.

"Blue." You breathed out.

"What shade of blue?" He pressed on. "Like your eyeshadow?"

You twisted your lips in thought. "Do you want to see?"

Harry released a shocked laugh, but his mind was fucking reeling. Did you really just ask if he wanted to see your panties?

"A peek couldn't hurt."

He gripped your hips and lifted you up onto the vanity behind you. You were shocked that he could lift you so effortlessly and smoothly. You crossed your legs, more to tease him than anything else. Your expression was sultry, and he felt lightheaded at the sight of you. Slowly, you unfolded your legs but didn't open them.

"Don't be shy, sugar. Show me and I'll make it up to you."

You let out a slow exhale, mustering up all of your courage. You were shaking, but it wasn't nerves. He had you so worked up and he had barely done anything. He'd riled you up and talked to you, and you were already fucking saturated.

Your legs parted, feet resting on either side of his thighs on the chair. Harry's eyes stayed on yours, his hands reaching to slide up your thighs, pushing the hem of your pink press up so he could get a good view of you, finally looking down.

And what a fucking view it was. Your thighs were soft, and he let his hands squeeze at them. Sky blue lace covered the area he'd been dreaming about for six months. He let out a soft groan and let his fingertip brush over the skin where your abdomen met the panties.

"Lace? Did you wear these for me?"

"I had you in mind."

"Naughty girl." He smirked, shuffling forward. His thumb brushed over your clothed clit and you let out a whimper, biting your lip to quell anything louder than might to escape. "Can I taste you? Please? Been wantin' to for months."

You nodded, your mouth dry. You'd let this man do anything to you, and hearing him tell you he'd been wanting this for months left you in a frenzy.

"Words, sugar. Let's hear 'em."

"Please," You whispered. "taste me."

"Good girl, that's it." He pulled your panties to the side, desperate to see you and taste you. You were glistening, so wet and plump for him. He sighed, running his thumb along your clit before venturing between your folds to feel how wet you were. Your thighs jolted as he slipped his thumb to collect your excitement and spread it up to your clit.

"Why are you so wet, hm?" He wondered aloud, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Because of you, Harry."

"Me?" Cocky little shit.

"Mm."

"Are you always this wet for me, sugar?"

You hesitated, not sure if you wanted to give him this. He would never forget it, probably remind you that he knew every day. Probably slip his hand up your dress just to appease his own curiosity.

"Only when you're nice to me."

"But you like me mean, don't you?"

"You're an asshole."

"Gets you wet, though."

Abruptly, as if impatient, he lowered his head and attached his mouth to your clit. The scorching heat of it was intense, and you grabbed a fistful of his freshly tamed curls to hold him to you.

His tongue ran over your entirety. From your entrance right back up to your clit, tasting you fully as his mouth closed around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You threw your head back, rolling your cunt towards his face as he softly ate you with a passion that had you shaking.

Before anything more could occur, Sal knocked on the door, demanding that Harry meet with him. He knew better than to enter any room that was hidden behind a closed door when it came to Harry. But if he'd known it was you behind that door with him, that would be another issue entirely.

You shot up, pushing him out of the way and righting your dress. You were tingling and you could still feel his tongue between your legs. His eyes were dark as he watched you from his seat, amused by your fumbling.

"Go before Sal comes back." You were flustered, your body felt electric and all he'd given you was his mouth for what — ten seconds?

He was too relaxed, and it only pissed you off further. He stood, sauntering towards you to press you against the vanity. His hand cupped your jaw, his rings kissing your skin.

"Funny that you're making demands when I'm the boss."

You breathed heavily, unsure of how to reply so you just held eye contact with him. Your lips parted as his head tilted, inching closer. His hand loosened, melting to your cheek so he could rub it with his thumb.

"Who's in charge, hm?"

"You are."

"That's right." He crooned, his lips brushing yours. "And who's gonna give you his cock later?"

The air was stripped from your lungs, the depth behind his question clear. Would you submit to him? Venture into this connection you had with him? You got on each other's nerves but fuck if there wasn't the most incredible sexual tension between you.

"You are, Harry."

He hummed, gripping your hand and bringing it down to cup his cock. He was hard, and pulsed in your hand when you gave him a squeeze. You just about crumbled when he moaned, his eyes lulling as you did it again. Harder.

"There's my good girl."

Sal knocked again, clearly impatient tonight. Harry smirked and could feel his lips curl against yours before he pulled away. He left the room with a confident strut while you were left shaking. You took a second to catch your breath, willing the arousal between your legs to simmer down before heading back out towards the stage.

You grabbed your purse and kept busy doing your job while Harry caught up with Sal. He was doted over, like always, and Sal told him how his viewings were skyrocketing. After he'd finished up his tasks on stage, he was whisked back to wardrobe so he could be styled.

Because Harry was busy chatting with tonight's guest and getting ready, all you had to do was wait for him to come to you. You peeked through the curtains at the set. The audience was being brought in and you were watching the seats fill from the side of the stage.

A piercing whistle sounded out from behind you and you twirled on the spot. He looked phenomenal. His suit was a sky blue, not too dissimilar to the shade of your panties. His shirt was a crisp white, his chain peeking through where it was unbuttoned, sat between his pecs and the light dusting of hair.

His eyes looked greener when he was dressed in blue, his lips more raspberry. He approached you and your eyes flew down to his shiny black oxfords.

"Whaddya think huh?" He spun on his heels, showing off. "Matchin'."

"Blue suits you."

"Suits you, too." Harry winked, standing close to you before nodding towards the audience. "How's it looking out there?"

Was he... trying to make casual conversation? After his face was between your thighs and all the talk that proceeded it? "Full house, like always. Did you... was that on purpose?"

"What?"

"The blue suit."

"Why else would I ask what colour your panties were, hm?"

"Because you're nosy."

"You know... every time you insult me, I get hard."

"Good thing I have plenty of them, then."

"Come on," He pressed you tight against the wall. "Gimme another one."

"Prick."

He chuckled, amused by how freely you were cursing. "That all you got?"

"You're the cockiest son a bitch I've ever met." You breathed out. His hands pressed to the wall on either side of your head, caging you in.

"Alright." He was crowding your space, the spicy-sweet vanilla of his cologne clouding your senses. He checked to see if anyone was around before clicking his tongue. "Take your panties off."

"What?" You were well aware that any crew member could walk by, and you weren't about to be caught slipping your panties down your legs.

"You heard me. Just lemme hold onto 'em until the show's over."

"Are you bent? I'm not giving you my panties. I need them and someone could walk by at any moment."

"Mellow out, no one's gonna see."

You deliberated in your head, genuinely considering it. His head tilted to the side, gauging your thoughts. This was so... exhilarating. Exciting. You were so out of it for him, and glad that you finally both agreed on something. You were both attracted to each other physically and that was about it.

Fuck it. Your hands reached beneath your dress, and Harry took a step back to give you room, keeping a lookout. You stepped out of those pretty little panties and held them out to him on your index finger. He snatched them up, eyeing how delicate they looked in his hand.

"Far out." He laughed, in shock that you actually did it.

You were a bundle of surprises tonight. He was throwing stuff at you that was pretty out there and you were throwing it right back. Sweet little sugar had a little more spice than he had anticipated.

"Cheers, sugar." He twirled them around on his finger and you slapped his shoulder.

"Don't just wave them around!" You hissed, looking around to make sure no one had seen the whole interaction.

Harry shoved them in his pants pocket and you smoothed out the bump they left, always a perfectionist. The guest of the night turned the corner and almost bumped into the two of you. You jumped apart, letting Harry chat to the guest on his own. He rarely enjoyed it and you looked back to see the subtle hints of irritation on his face. You knew he'd flash that charming smile and those adorable dimples as soon as the cameras came on.

With only a few minutes until the show was due to start, you bumbled around and made sure everything was perfect for him. You were very aware of the fact that you didn't have your panties on, and with your dress being shorter than usual, you had to be careful.

Sal breezed past you, beelining towards Harry and the guest with a huge grin. He greeted them loudly and you did your part by waiting to the side for further instruction. The guest was led to their spot for showtime, one of the stage managers with them to keep them entertained and to give their cues. Harry shook Sal's hand, hearing Sal's usual encouraging words before making his way towards you.

"Feeling okay?" You checked in, handing him a couple of Certs breath mints. You walked side by side towards center stage, and he wasn't shy about his stare on you. It felt different — the air around you. Usually filled with annoyance, was something else. Hotter, dreamier, sensual.

"Snazzy." He nodded, chucking the mints into his mouth. "Little foreplay always gets me goin'."

You huffed out a breath at his response, resisting the urge to retort something cheeky as the stagehand came to run through the show one more time. You righted his outfit, his eyes not leaving you as you made sure he looked smooth and perfect.

As the stagehand left, you grabbed your round brush from your purse and went over his curls. You began adding a little volume while he hummed and oohed and aahed to exercise and prepare his voice.

"You know New York..." You guided.

"You know New York, you need New York, you know you need unique New York."

"Again."

He sighed, closing his eyes so he could focus. "You know New York, you need New York, you know you need unique New York."

"Lesser leather..." You hinted at another tongue twister. You ran the lint roller across the lapels of his suit jacket and over his shoulders, catching his eyes and not missing the glint in them. "...never weathered..."

"It's funny," He smirked. "you're a tongue twister master right now, but you won't be able to say your own name by the time I'm done with you later."

"Oh my-"

"Yeah, I'm gonna fuckin' ruin you."

"One minute till curtain, everyone!" Sal's voice boomed. "Look alive, look alive!"

The crowd was roaring with applause as the show began, but all you could hear was your pulse in your ears as your heart thudded in your chest. Harry, who usually thrived off of the cheers, was only focused on you. On your sweet voice asking if he wanted to see your panties, on your feisty insults.

"Filmed before a live studio audience..."

You called him a cocky son of a bitch and all he could think about was bending you over his knee and seeing how much shit you talked while his hand was marking your ass with its imprint.

Everyone fled the stage, but you were stood completely still in front of him. Frozen.

"Harry..."

His lips brushed yours again and your ears started ringing.

"...All the way from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire..."

"Look at you," He crooned. "Runnin' round with no panties with that pretty ribbon in your hair. Dirty little thing, aren't you, sugar?"

You could feel how slick you were between your thighs and your eyes fluttered as his hand ventured beneath your skirt from behind, cupping your ass cheek with a strong hand before venturing further. His fingertips found your cunt and you almost collapsed against him.

He hummed lowly, rumbling in his chest. He pulled his hand away, very aware that the curtain was close to pulling up. He held his index and middle fingers in front of you, glistening with your arousal, and ran them along your lower lip.

You didn't even hesitate to suck his fingers into your mouth, not losing eye contact. Harry's brows turned down, his mouth dropping as he drawled out a slow fuuuck. And then he kissed you. It was messy and wet and quick. His lips were so soft against your own before he sucked deftly on your tongue, tasting you and your cunt at the same time.

"...Give it up for your host, the one, the only..."

"Fuck, can we cancel the show?" He growled, holding you to him with a grip on the nape of your neck.

"N-No. I have to go."

"...Mr. Harry Styles!"

You fled from the stage, walking backwards, not wanting to take your eyes off him. His expression was one of longing, his eyes not leaving you either. The curtain lifted, igniting him in the warmth of the stage lighting and the eruption of cheers.

He turned and faced the crowd, waving and blowing kisses. His smile was dazzling, and his blue suit was celestial under the bright glow. He was wrapped in success and adoration. You could see it radiating off him as he found centre stage and bowed.

"Good evening, New York!" He waited for applaud to finish. "How are we?"

You rounded the backstage area, checking in with crew and chatting to the guest.

"Can I just say..." Harry continued, clasping his hands together. "you look ravishing tonight, New York." More praise from the audience. "It's true, you do."

You rolled your eyes at the excited yells and cheers from the crowd. You watched him in a totally new light tonight. He was on a level that no one could reach. He was born to be on stage, to entertain.

He introduced the guest and brought them onstage, talking about their upcoming music and chatting them up. During the commercial breaks you checked in with the guest, and made sure Harry's appearance was on point.

His eyes were on you the whole time, and you could see him fighting the urge to make some kind of questionable comment. His eyes veered south and stayed on where the hem of your dress brushed your thighs.

"Need anything else?" You asked him politely, aware of the audiences stare on your back.

"I won't need coffee tonight." He educated softly and you nodded.

"We're back in fifteen seconds." The cameraman alerted and you gathered your things and went to leave. The guest was busy fixing their hair with the stylist. Harry's hand on your wrist stopped you, pulling you back.

"Actually, there is one more thing." He back peddled, and you raised an expectant brow, leaning in close to hear him. "Stay right over there, okay? Wanna be able to see you."

He pointed to a spot off stage, where only guests and select members of crew like Sal or the director were allowed to stand during air time. And he wanted you there. So he could look over and see you and know you were watching.

"I- Yeah, okay."

You rushed off stage, standing exactly where he told you to. He watched you right until the advertisement break ended.

"And we're back in three... two... one..."

His eyes switched back to the camera, his expression slipping into the charm that came so naturally to him once he was live on air.

He was a star. Delightful and eccentric and unapologetic.

He exchanged more jokes with the guest, who as an up and coming musician, was gearing up for their performance. You stayed to watch the show exactly where Harry wanted you, and you were pleased that you didn't get any slack from Sal. You rarely got to actually enjoy the show like this, and in a way, it felt like Harry had done you a favour.

His eyes often flicked to you after he'd told a joke or said something cheeky. Like he was directed it at you, or maybe he was checking to see if you found him as funny as the crowd did. When you didn't laugh as hard as he thought the joke deserved, he'd try extra hard to get you to laugh at the following one.

It was odd that he was trying to seek validation from you when he had millions at his feet.

As the show wrapped up, you couldn't have applauded him louder. You were proud, you felt giddy and bubbly inside. He was born for this, there was no denying it.

And then there was the realisation of what was to come once the show had finished. You became nervous. And insanely wet. The anticipation rattled yet excited you and you weren't sure what to make of it.

You rounded towards his exit, a crowd of crew and groupies waiting for him. He came to you first, as you were closest. He shot polite smiles to everyone but his attention was on you.

"How'd I do?"

"Phenomenal."

"Did you like my jokes?"

You side-eyed a few people waiting for a shred of his attention and felt the need to rush this interaction between you along. You didn't want to raise suspicions and you also didn't want to take away any attention he could be giving to these people who were clearly waiting for him.

"My tummy laughs from hurting so much." You whispered. His grin was contagious, dimples and his bunny teeth on full display. His eyes were warm as he stared down at you.

"Really?"

"Mhm."

A throat cleared behind you and Harry looked up to shoot them a reassuring wink and then looked back at you. "Wait for me in my dressing room."

It was an order, even with the softness in his tone. You licked your lips, not missing when his eyes caught it. You backed away, slowly pulling your ribbon out of your hair. His jaw clenched as your hair fell free.

"Yes, Mr. Styles. Right away."

His dressing room felt alien to you as you slipped inside, a familiar place with such a different atmosphere now. How quickly the dynamic had changed between you was dizzying. You always knew you were attracted to him, but you never thought you'd act on it.

And you certainly never thought he'd have his mouth on your cunt minutes before a show.

How long were you meant to wait? You checked your appearance in the mirror, your cheeks flushed with excitement. Your dress was pristine, as was your makeup and you wondered how long that would last.

You were riffling through Harry's pile of books when he came in. Your spine straightened, every nerve tingling. He closed the door behind him, leaning back against it.

His gaze was one that had you clenching your thighs together. An intimidating hunger, a deep lust. His eyes were dark, void of the bright glint they usually offered. He didn't say anything and that only made the tension thicker.

And then he locked the door with a click.

He took one single step towards you and you inhaled a sharp breath at the slow, torturous pace of it. Like he was taunting and teasing you. He shoved one hand in his pocket, the other reaching up. He gripped his lower lip between his thumb and index finger, his eyes finding your feet in your Mary Janes and trailing up your legs.

He was slow with that as well as if to keep you on your toes. He had always been so rushed and spontaneous with a lot of what he did. But this.... this he'd been thinking about for a long time. He'd had months to plan this through.

Plan how he was going to play with you, make you beg for him, make you feel good.

He really enjoyed the secrecy of it. And all that would come after. He liked the idea of meeting your eyes at work, both of you exchanging knowing looks because you both knew what it took to pleasure each other.

Fuck. His sex life wasn't complicated. He fucked fans because the likelihood of seeing them ever again was slim. But you were close to home, dangerously so. He saw you all the time. And somehow that just made him want you even more.

He produced your panties from his pocket and came to stand in front of you.

"Now," He began, lowering his head to meet your eyes. "are you going to need help keeping quiet?"

He fucking knew he'd have you screaming for him. He was just being precautious, knowing that on the other side of the door, the studio was littered with crew members.

You shook your head. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"I don't think you're that good."

He rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek, huffing out a humourless laugh before pocketing your panties again. You were so snappy and cheeky with him and he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his dick so fucking hard in his pants. You were winding him up. Trying to poke at him and provoke him. Well, it was fucking working.

"Oh, you don't think so?"

"I think that's why your ego's as big as it is. Because you can't fuck."

He did what he wanted to do earlier that day; he grabbed your hair in his fist. You gasped through a surprised smile, and he brought you close until you were pressed against him.

"What did I tell you?" His voice was low, thick with arousal. You'd never heard his voice that deep and you felt it between your legs. "Hm?"

"That you won't need coffee tonight?"

He gripped your hair harder and his cock throbbed when you smiled.

"I told you," His eyes were burning. "that I'm going to ruin you."

The way he pronounced every word was electrifying. As if he was really trying to get his message across. How was this the same man that had asked if you laughed at his jokes after his show?

You flicked your tongue against his lower lip. "Do your worst."

His kiss was far harsher this time. Still just as messy, and you figured that was just how he liked it. He wasn't shy about it. He used his teeth, nibbling on your lower lip, biting on your tongue. He used his free hand to fist your dress at the small of your back.

You were pressed tight against him and fuck, he was so hard for you. Even through his pants, you were impressed with his size. You wanted to feel more, experience him fully. You didn't have all the time in the world, locked away in his dressing room. You were both painfully aware.

He pushed you back, landing you in the chair next to the vanity. He stripped off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. You watched as he pushed your dress out of the way, clearly annoyed that the fabric was disrupting him from his goal. Your center was still so wet for him and he couldn't even suppress the low grown at the sight.

"Pretty little pussy," He gripped your inner thighs, holding them apart. "still so fucking drenched for me. You enjoyed watching me onstage tonight, didn't you? Hearing everyone fawn over me but you know you're the one I want."

"I want you, too. So bad, please fuck me." You whined, your hips rocking up restlessly.

"I wanna have a play first."

"Fuck, please just-"

He spat directly between your legs, coating your pussy in his spit. His eyes flickered up to the clock on the wall before he attached his mouth to you with a deep moan. He licked along your entrance and then right up to the sensitive bundle of nerves, fully tasting you again.

He dipped his tongue inside you, fucking you with it before pulling away with a pop and sucking your clit back into his mouth. He trapped it between his teeth and flicked and twirled delicious patterns against it that had your muscles clenching.

He ate you as if he enjoyed it more than you did. He targeted your clit perfectly, able to read your body and its responses so well.

He held eye contact while had his mouth on your cunt, burying his face against you like he couldn't get close enough. Your legs shook on either side of his head, and he kept them spread with his wide hands. You could feel how cold his rings were against your skin.

Your hands reached down, tangling themselves into his curls. You held him against you, his mouth so scorching on you that you felt lightheaded with the tingling heat.

He pulled away momentarily, slipping his index and middle finger in his mouth, all the way until he drew back so teeth were peeling off his rings. He grabbed your hand, taking two of your fingers one by one and replacing the rings on them. They were huge on you but you admired how his jewelry looked on you, the ones he wore while he was on air. Glistening and extravagant.

Now he'd removed them so he could feel you properly.

Deciding that you were wet enough, he ran the pads of his fingers along your entrance. They veered up, circling your clit slowly before heading south again. You cried out softly as his fingers slipped inside you. It was an exquisite sensation and you stared down at him in wonder, mouth agape as you moaned out.

He curled them up, your spine melting as they pressed against a spot inside of you that had before now never been discovered. It was a blinding pressure, tight and full and so fucking good.

Harry smirked at the apparent shock on your face before he moved his fingers, curling them against your g-spot. As he found a rhythm, he brought his mouth back to your clit.

You arched your back, gasping for air as he worked you. He pumped his fingers hard, bringing you higher and higher to an elevation you'd never known. His mouth left your clit and before you could complain at the loss, he was spitting on it once more before giving it a mild slap with his free hand.

You screamed out, not expecting the harshness to feel that enticing. You were being far too loud for him to continue this comfortably. He didn't want anyone to interrupt and moreover, he didn't want you to get in trouble. He wanted to make you come over and over without a care in the world.

The same hand that slapped you retrieved your panties from his pocket before he shoved the lace into your mouth.

If you weren't so blissed out, you may have even be shocked by it. But at that moment, it was so hot and dirty. You trusted him to know best and look after you.

His fingers pulsed against your g-spot and you felt an intensity building in your abdomen and you rolled your hips towards his face. His mouth was relentless on your clit, desperate to get you zoned out with pleasure.

Your walls clenched and ballooned around his fingers and he pulled away, his eyes on you. They were full of lust and hunger, piercing right through you.

"Eyes on me sugar, don't look away." He wanted to watch you. To stare into your eyes, to see your orgasm shatter you.

He pumped his fingers, his pace blinding. He knew exactly what he was doing, knew exactly what to do to get you there. He grunted with the exertion, the tendons in his arm flexing and bulging with how hard he worked you.

And then he smirked, almost pleased with himself. "Have you ever squirted before?"

With your mouth full of lace, you weren't able to verbally answer. You shook your head and he thought the confused frown on your face was fucking adorable.

Before you could even think about what he was asking, the most euphoric explosion of bliss rocked through you. You cried out into the lace, your entire body shaking as you came harder than you ever had before. It was fucking annihilating. You did as you were told, your eyes not leaving his. It was hard, of course. You wanted to shut your eyes and bask in the hot sensation that was taking over every nerve in your body.

But he wanted to watch you. And he wanted you to see the burst of fluid that erupted from your cunt, past his fingers. "Thaaat's it. Good fucking girl, come all over my fingers. Just like that."

You writhed in the chair, grateful for his grip on you. You didn't stop shaking, tremors of pleasure rocking you. He helped you as you came down, your chest heaving and your body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You didn't think it was possible for you to come that way, and you could feel yourself becoming addicted to him.

Harry stood, his hand running up and down your thighs, squeezing them. He removed your panties from your mouth, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You blushed as you tasted yourself on his tongue and curiously ran a hand between your legs to feel the aftermath of your orgasm.

He watched, thinking it was so hot to see your fingers venture between your folds and along your dripping thighs.

"Feel nice?" He hummed, chuckling at your curious expression.

"So nice, I've never... I didn't think I could do that."

"You got me all wet, messy girl." He smiled, kissing you again.

He stood and helped you out of your dress, peeling off your bra so he could play with your tits. He sucked and bit at your nipples, feeling the fullness of your breasts in his palm.

"You're delicious all over, sugar." He admired your fully naked body. "Can't wait to feel you properly. See what that tight little cunt feels like around my cock."

He palmed himself as he spoke, so desperate to feel you. His expression was one of lustful longing, and you could feel it resonate between your legs as if you hadn't just had an earth-shattering climax.

"Take your clothes off." You whined, going to sit up and pouting when he stopped you.

He started to unbutton his shirt, revealing the white singlet underneath. "Stay just like that. Wanna give you my cock while you're sitting in my chair."

The chair where he sat before every show. Reciting jokes in the mirror while his hair was fussed over. The vanity where he'd first seen you, bent over it watering his flowers.

He got rid of his shirt, clearly impatient. He peeled off the white singlet too and you could have drooled at the sight of him. His broad torso and shoulders, his toned tummy, his strong pecs. The ink decorating him. Fuck, you probably did drool.

He caught the leg of the chair on his foot and dragged you closer, undoing his pants at the same time. You shifted forward, your hand reaching out to boldly cup his cock. He groaned, lulling his head back on his neck. His hand came over yours and urged you to squeeze him harder.

"You're so hard." You mewled, humming as he watched you feel him. His jaw dropped as you moved your hand expertly.

"I've been hard for you all night."

He was hyper-aware of the position you were both in and that you were on limited time. The studio was due to lock up soon, left only to after-hours security and the cleaners.

You leaned closer, pulling his pants down with his help. You ran your lips along his length over his briefs, letting your tongue flick out. He could feel the heat of your mouth seep through the material and he was losing his mind over the fact that only his briefs separated your mouth from his cock.

You peered up at him through your lashes, grabbing the band of his underwear to pull them down. You'd always been so reserved and controlled but the look on your face when you finally saw his cock had him fucking spiraling. Intimidation, thirst, determination.

With his pants and briefs pooled at his ankles, he guided you to take a hold of him. You obeyed, wanting to please him just as much as he pleased you. You pumped him slowly in your hand, loving how he felt in your fist.

"Your cock is so..."

Harry laughed, cupping your cheek and staring down at you expectantly. "What?"

"Pretty." It wasn't the word you were going for, but it wasn't the wrong word, either. He had a gorgeous cock, so thick and long. It was silky and hot and pulsed in your hand. You were impressed and intrigued.

"Pretty?" His voice was so soft as he regarded you.

"Yeah."

Pretty. He could deal with pretty. His thumb trailed across your lips. "Mm, and how's it taste?"

You pulled away marginally, grabbing his free hand and urging him to grab your hair in his tight first once more. You laid out your tongue and licked the tip of his dick, glistening with precum. You hummed at his taste and took him deeper, using your hand to spread your spit down his shaft.

Harry moaned deeply, taking a solid step forward so that you took more of him past your lips.

"Swallow me."

"Make me."

He narrowed his eyes at you, watching as you opened wide and held still, waiting for him to make you take it. With his hold on your hair, he guided you to swallow his cock. You were able to take about half, your hand working what you couldn't yet fit.

But he was helping you, not pushing you too far but doing it inch by inch. Your eyes began to water and you gagged when he pushed in deep. Your other hand was pressed against his thigh to keep yourself steady.

"Good girl." He praised, his voice low. "Take my cock so fucking well, don't you?"

He couldn't wrap his head around what was happening. He'd imagined this day far too many times to count, and it was always blurred by the unpleasant dynamic you two shared. But here you were, sucking him off after he'd made you explode around his fingers.

You loved having him down your throat. You enjoyed the challenge. He was so big and when you were able to take all of him, it was a feeling of satisfaction. He held you down until you were choking and your nose was buried in the hair around the base of his cock.

He wiped a tiny bit of smudged mascara from under your eye, admiring the blue of your eyeshadow and the colour of your lips as they wrapped around his cock. Fuck, he needed to be inside you. He was desperate for it.

He slipped you back onto the chair, angling you so that you were open to him. It happened so quickly and your mind was reeling at the sudden change. He was in full control and had no issue putting you where he wanted you. And you trusted him. He was so arrogant and you wanted to see if his bite was just as harsh as his bite. Considering the wet mess you'd made, it definitely was.

"Fuck, can't wait to feel you properly." He sighed, grabbing his cock at the base and running his tip between your legs.

Your gripped his arms, absentmindedly smoothing your fingers over some of his tattoos. "Beg me."

"What?" He raised a brow, his tone perplexed.

"Beg me to let you fuck me. You're an asshole, tell me you're sorry and beg me. Then I'll let you fuck me."

You didn't miss the way his cock throbbed when you called him an asshole, the flex in his jaw as he took in your words. Beg? Apologise?

He scoffed. "That's cute. As if you don't get so fucking wet when I'm an asshole to you. Just like how hard I get when you call me shit like that with that filthy mouth of yours."

You rolled your hips up, gripping his hip to pull him closer to you. "Please, baby. I wanna hear you beg."

The very tip of him slipped inside of you and you both moaned at the sensation. You were so wet and tight and he knew he could step forward and be inside you fully. But the expectant look you were giving him stopped him.

He gripped your throat, leaning down so he could bend over you. He gritted his teeth, his eyes hard on yours. "Please let me fuck you, sugar. Get you gushing on my cock over and over, fuckin' drown in your wet little pussy."

"Are you going to be nice?"

"But it's better when I'm mean." He crooned. "I'll make you take my cock, fuck you so hard, and won't stop until you cry."

Your eyes fluttered as he inched forward a little, sliding himself in further. The head of his cock was so snug inside of you and the way he stretched you had your toes curling. You brought your legs higher, hitching them up to his sides.

"Please," You mewled.

"Tell me, sugar." He needed to hear you say it. "Tell me you want me to fuck this dreamy cunt."

"Fuck me, Harry. Please."

"Hard?"

"Hard."

His hand tightened around your throat as he rolled his hips forward. He stretched you, so fucking big that he had to take his time to push past your tightness. His gaze narrowed as he pressed in tight, his hips flush against you. As he became fully buried inside of you, your vision tunneled on him and him only. On how good he felt, how his eyes were trained on yours.

He'd thought about what you'd look like stuffed full of his cock but he could never have imagined you being this perfect. Whimpering and moaning so fucking sweet while his hand was wrapped around your throat.

"Please move." You begged, feeling so overwhelmed with him being so thick inside of you but not moving.

He slowly retracted his hips, your pussy trembling to keep him there. He slowly pushed his hips forward again, groaning lowly as you clenched around him. He started out slow as first, wanting to ease you into it, his hands holding onto your sides. But you were desperate.

"You call that hard, baby?"

He shook his head, smiling at the bite in your tone. "You sure you can handle it?"

"What did I tell you about that ego of yours-"

He growled, seeing that you were toying with him again. He didn't want you to have the upper hand. So he started fucking you. Hard and relentless and strong. You cried out at his strength, his cock pumping against your g-spot so perfectly.

"Fuck yes, take my cock. Good fucking girl."

It was electrical. You were saturated from your orgasm he'd given you, he hit so deep, pushing against your front wall. He gripped your breasts, admiring as they bounced while he fucked you. He spat on them, unashamed in his desires to be so fucking dirty with you.

"Love your tits." He grunted. "Let me fuck them one day, sugar. Wanna see them fuckin' dripping in my cum."

"Yes, take whatever you want." You gasped.

You'd let him. He was cheeky and an asshole but he fucked you far better than anyone else ever could and he was just getting started. And you could find ways to keep his mouth busy when it started spouting nonsense.

"Yeah?" He hung over you, his curls dangling down. "Will you let me have you again, hm? Let me fuck your throat, your tight cunt, fuck- make you my plaything?"

"I want to be your plaything." You sighed, his necklace swinging in your face, glistening silver.

"You do, don't you? I'll have this pussy on my tongue while I memorise my script. Carry your panties around in my pocket and give them back to you when you've earned them."

The pressure was blinding and he brought your legs up over his shoulders so he could take you even harder. The legs of the chair scraped obnoxiously against the ground as he fucked you into it. He was brutal, making you take his cock with each harsh thrust.

You cried out, sobbing his name. He was so deep and you knew you'd be feeling him for days after. He picked you up, sitting you on the vanity. You leaned back against the mirror, icy against your back. He hauled your hips towards him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He took his cock in his hand and fisted your hair with the other, holding you still so he could slide inside of you again. You clenched around him mercilessly, and he had to flex his hips harder so he could take you properly.

The vanity jolted on its legs under the force of him. Your hand wraps around his neck, trying to stabilise yourself against the onslaught of his thrusts.

"Call me an asshole again."

"Harry-" You jolted underneath him. "Fuck, you're an asshole."

"Yeah? Wanna hit me?"

"W-What?"

"Fucking do it. Slap me like I know you've been wanting to for the past six months."

Your hands clutched at his curls. Hitting him was the last thing on your mind right now while he was inside you. Until he'd brought it up, that is. You'd wanted to slap him on a daily basis and you wondered if he'd been reading your mind.

Mustering up courage enough to do so, you raised your hand and slapped his cheek. Not as hard as you could have, but the groan he emitted told you that you weren't gentle, either.

"So good." He grinned, his cheek reddening from your hand. You gripped his jaw harshly, licking your handprint before kissing him.

Your kisses moved to his neck and he tilted his head to give you more access to the skin. He flicked his eyes to his reflection in the mirror, finding his lustful expression, his cheek red, His eyes were alight with danger and arousal, driving his hips into you as he stared at himself. You moaned loudly as he pounded into you, unrelenting. Wanting you so out of it so that you could never look at him the same way again.

He imagined you looking at him during rehearsals, looking down at your Mary Janes with flushed cheeks. Your soft cadence as you asked him when he would fuck you next. Your surprised gasp when he'd pull you into a supply closet to fuck you hard and quick before anyone noticed your absence.

Just as you grew accustomed to the position, he flipped you, brushes and hair products flying off the top as you found balance on it. Your eyes met his in the mirror and they blazed through yours as he pushed himself into your warmth again.

"Fuck," He hissed, throwing his head back as you gripped him tightly. He held onto your shoulder and fucked you, near on slamming you into the furniture. His hand crept up to cup your throat, the other doing the same as he found a rhythm.

"Right there, don't stop." You gasped.

"Gonna think of this every time I'm in this room." He grunted. "Sit in that chair before a show and think about your perfect cunt around me. How you smile when I wrap my hands around your throat, how much you love having my cock to choke on."

"I want you to fuck me on this vanity every day, Harry."

"Every day, Sugar." He was breathless. "So much I wanna do to you. Play with you, make your pussy cream for me. Fuck, how did we go so long without this?"

He started using his height to his advantage, screwing down into you. You struggled to grasp clarity, your senses clouding as pleasure took over. His hands tightened around your throat and he took you harder when a ghost of a smile touched your lips.

He slipped two of his fingers in your mouth, hooking them into your cheek and pulling. He hissed at how fucking submissive you were and how you were willing to be just as dirty as him.

Letting go of your neck entirely, one hand moved to your hip and the other to your hair. He pulled you up, forcing you to look into the mirror.

"I'm an asshole but I fuck you good, don't I?"

You wanted to slap the smirk off his face. He could sense your annoyance at how cocky he was. He took you harder and you eyed him in the reflection, not wanting to give him an answer. And that didn't work for him.

He gripped your hair tight, pulling you back until his lips met your ear.

"Don't I?" He spat.

"Yes,"

He spanked your ass. Hard. Twice. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, you fuck me good."

Pleased, Harry reached in front of you, getting you to wet his fingers with your tongue before rubbing fast circles on your clit. Your legs turned to jelly, your body melting against him as he took you hard and played with your clit.

You felt the rush of pleasure wrap around you and grow in every nerve ending. He watched you in the mirror, intent on seeing you come again. He held you up while you writhed in his arms, his hips unyielding as he split you in half with his cock.

Your hands flew out, pushing various things off the vanity top as your orgasm barrelled towards you. Harry gritted his teeth, bending his knees to follow you as you moved so he could keep fucking you.

"You gonna come? Hm? Dirty fucking girl. Running around the studio with no panties on. This cunt was so wet for me from the start, wasn't it? Tiny dress, bossy little heels, and that fucking clipboard."

This climax was more intense than the first, but no less wet. You exploded around his cock, crying out his name before his hand came over your mouth to keep you quiet.

"Shhh. Good girl. Keep coming on my cock, don't stop, don't stop." He was feral at how good you felt around him, rubbing your clit until you were trembling at the overstimulation. His hips slowed, faltering. He was losing composure the tighter your pussy clenched around him.

He picked you up, not wasting any time in settling back on the small couch in the room. He laid flat on his back, while you straddled his hips. Your hands ran over his chest, nails digging into the skin as he gripped your ass and moved your hips.

His cock sat snuggly between your folds and you shamelessly rolled yourself along his length. You felt empty without him inside you and you lifted up, grabbing his length with a shaking hand, and slid him back into your warmth.

You both moaned out softly, his cock throbbing inside you. He could feel how close he was, as could you. Your hot and wet and dreamy cunt wasn't helping him stave it off. His vision was trained on you sitting on top of him like a fucking angel. Your tits, red from his teeth, your full hips, and your blissed-out expression.

He rolled his hips up softly, encouraging you to move. "Ride me, sugar."

You found a rhythm that had you shaking, so sensitive from your orgasms His cock pressed deliciously tight against your g-spot with every roll forward. With your hands flat on his chest, you started to bounce on him. You were so wet and the sound of it was making him crumble. The wet slaps and the way your pussy was drenching him.

His gaze met yours and he just about came. Your eyes lulled, cheeks flushed and your mouth agape as you fucked him. The most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. He grabbed your tits, playing and pulling your nipples with deft fingers. He strained his neck, moaning as you picked up your pace.

You wanted him to finish. To feel the toe-curling euphoria he'd given you. The one given when a connection like the one you had was this electric.

"Ooh, shit. Just like that." He praised, squeezing your hips so hard you knew they'd bruise.

"Yeah? You love watching me bounce on your cock, don't you?"

You'd thrown his own tactic right back in his face. The sweet voice with the daring question. Of course, he loved it. He was addicted.

"Fuck yes."

Your hand trailed up, lightly wrapping around his throat. He could feel the rings he'd given you to wear against his skin and he snarled, holding your hips and screwing up into you, meeting your thrusts. Having you fuck him with your hand around his throat had him fucking spiraling into another dimension.

"You're close," You mewled, his cock throbbing hard inside you. "I can feel it."

"Yeah? Go on, make me cum. I'm gonna cum so fucking hard for you, sugar. Gonna fill you right up, fucking take it. Take all my cum- fuck."

He let you take him while his orgasm hit. It was white-hot intense, his grip on you not lessening as he moaned out your name. He pumped you full of his cum, the thick white ropes painting your walls. His brow turned down in the middle, his lips parted a little and you could see the whites of his teeth. The thick cords in his neck protruded under your hand.

He was stunning and animalistic and brazen, even in a time when one is most vulnerable.

The muscles and tendons in his arms flexed as he held you down on top of him, humming out lowly as the flames of his orgasm dimmed into embers.

And while neither of you was sure how it would feel post the explosion, you'd expected at the very least that it would be awkward. You didn't have the fondest attachment towards each other but fuck if you weren't addicted to each other's bodies now.

He sighed, reeling in his climax. His hands crawled up your sides, encasing you and encouraging you to come down to him. He hugged you, sighing in your neck before kissing the skin. You could hear a commotion in the hallway of the crew leaving and it suddenly sunk in that you'd just fucked your boss.

And neither of you could wait to do it again.

"Should we get out of here?" He asked after a few minutes.

"We?"

"Mm. Head back to mine if you want. Got the new Sam Cooke vinyl we can jam out to."

You grinned, trailing your finger along his lips. "Can we fuck again?"

His expression mirrored yours. "We are definitely fucking again. Don't have to be as quiet at mine, wanna hear how loud you get."

You rolled your hips, feeling his cock softening and his release beginning to trickle out of you. He hummed, squeezing you as if to warn you.

"Behave, sugar."

"But that's no fun."

He couldn't disagree with that. He checked the clock and knew there was only a slim window of time for you both to leave the studio without raising any brows.

"Come on." He slapped your ass. "Let's clean up and cut out."

You slipped into the bathroom, your legs shaky from how hard he'd taken you. You cleaned up, as he'd told you to. Your reflection in the mirror was a sight for sore eyes and you tried your best to look presentable and not freshly fucked.

As you entered the dressing room again and gathered your things. Harry had dressed in his more casual clothes, a pair of mint dress pants and a t-shirt, throwing his fur coat over his shoulders. He noticed the way you slipped on your dress and smoothed out your hair, touching up your lipstick. He approached you, wrapping his arms around you as you stood in front of the vanity.

"You know I'm just gonna get you all messy again, don't you?"

"I'm counting on it."

He smirked, kissing your neck and fisting the hem of that tiny dress. You pulled away, eyeing the time. You bent over, going to pick up your panties and frowning when he snatched them up before you could.

"Hey, I need those."

"What'd I say, hm? You'll get them back when you earn them." He slipped the blue lace in his pants pocket, straightening his fur coat and holding out his hand.

"Jerk." You walked towards him, nudging his hand away and leaving the dressing room. A showcase that the feisty dynamic between you was here to stay. The lights were off in the studio now, aside from a few dim ones high up on the walls. He scoffed, racing after you. He lagged behind a few steps, wanting to watch your legs as you walked. You turned, throwing him a dubious look and he smiled innocently as he was caught checking you out. "What are you-"

A gleam of a security guard's flashlight lit up the wall next to you. Harry swore, pulling you towards the exit before you were spotted. You wouldn't get in trouble per se, but being sneaky was so much more exciting than sticking around.

"Shit- let's haul ass, sugar. Wanna play with you all night."

The warmth and adoration he felt on stage, under those lights with every pair of eyes set on him. It was a dimmed sensation compared to how he felt with you. His sugar. Saccharine yet equally as fervent, gooey and thrilling and sticking to him as if magnetised to his cells.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles filth #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #smut #hes #anon #hs #hslot

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harryistheonlyoneforme · 8 months

Text

ruin (6)*

warnings: fluff, smut, sex toy use, unprotected sex, oral

summary: in which harry takes yn on a nice picnic date and they go all the way

a/n: well guys, it’s been a longgggg time coming, but ruin is officially complete!!!🥳🥳🥳🥲🥲. i do have a couple ideas about some extras though, if you guys are interested in that. thank you so much for all of the love and support <3

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~one month later~

yn is just finishing up her makeup with the application of her favorite gloss, double checking for imperfections when her phone rings. she doesn’t even have to check to know that it’s harry alerting her of his arrival, ready for their date tonight. so she presses her screen to answer as she hurriedly grabs her purse.

“hello?” she picks up, trying to keep her voice level to sound as if she’s not literally running around her room right now. grabbing her desired scent for the day, she sprays the perfume in the ideal places and rests the phone between her shoulder and ear.

“hi, angel. ‘m outside whenever you’re ready, but there’s no need to rush,” he reassures her, a grin on his face at her failed attempt at feigning calm. he drums his fingers against the steering wheel with a chuckle as he hears her quiet but unmistakable sigh of relief.

“i’m on my way down now, actually, i won’t be long,” she replies, finally taking a moment to breathe. she hears him hum on the other end of the line before acknowledging her words, and they end the call quickly. yn takes her time, but not too much time, as she slips on her shoes and grabs a sweater to throw over her pretty summer dress, just in case the weather gets a bit chilly.

she takes one last glance at herself and checks her purse to double check she isn’t leaving anything before she’s heading out the door and to harry’s car, where he’s patiently waiting. when he sees her approaching his face lights up so bright it makes her heart melt, and he’s scrambling to get out of the car to greet her.

meeting her at the passenger side door, he wraps his arms around her waist and leans down to press a kiss to her lips but ultimately changes route to her cheek, remembering the story she once told him about kissing with her freshly glossed lips. her arms come up over his shoulders to wrap around his neck, and he’s caught by surprise when she presses her lips to his anyways.

harry can’t help but pull her closer and smile into the kiss, loving the way she simply doesn’t care about that sort of thing when it comes to him. they’re like that for just a few more moments, the both of them begrudgingly pulling away. they can’t resist one last sweet peck before harry’s stepping away and opening the car door for her, not even bothering to wipe the gloss away that’d transferred from her lips to his.

yn passes him a grateful smile and gets in the car, nodding to harry when she’s settled as a signal to close the door. he does so and jogs around to his side, hopping in and starting the car to begin the drive. turning out onto the main road, harry grabs his phone from the middle console and passes it to yn, briefly taking his eyes off the road seeing that she’s a bit confused.

“did you want to turn on some music while we drive? ‘s a bit of a ride there, don’t want y’to get bored of me,” he explains, hearing a small ‘ah’ of realization from his girl. she wastes no more time, unlocking his phone and opening his music app. a dimpled grin forms on harry’s face when he hears the unmistakable tune of ‘go your own way’ by fleetwood mac starting, the same song they listened to on the way to their first date at the diner.

she queues up a few more songs as the both of them hum along, and when she has what should be enough, she places the phone back where it’d been before harry picked it up. her hand naturally gravitates toward her lap to rest there, but the action is interrupted by harry’s warm hand, quickly intertwining their fingers before she can complete it.

a small smile forms on her face as she glances at him, watching him act as if he hasn’t done anything. she simply lifts his hand to her lips and presses a kiss to the back of it before letting their hands rest in her lap, humming along to the music as she looks out the car window.

the ride doesn’t seem as long as harry thought it would, and with all of the singing and conversation they have, before he knows it they’ve arrived at the park. he drives as slow as possible as they enter just so he can see yn’s reaction to the scenery, his heart melting as he watches the way her face lights up when she sees the pretty flowers that line the entrance of the park.

she swoons at all of the butterflies around, the ducks in a pond nearby, and all of it just confirms each and every thought he’s ever had of spending the rest of his life with her. harry continues driving until he can see the area he’d previously scouted out, parking the car near it. he hops out the car and runs around to her side, opening the door and squatting down next to her.

“i’m gonna go over and set up, angel, then i’ll be right back to get you, alright?” he questions, his eyes taking in every square inch of her face as if he’ll ever forget it. he takes her hand in his as she nods, bringing it to his lips briefly before standing up and heading to the trunk of the car.

he quickly grabs everything out that he needs; blankets, the food, a pillow for her to rest on if she’d like to, drinks, and the small bag that holds the toys he’s brought if she wants to use them. closing the trunk, he hauls everything over to the spot he’d chosen, maneuvering through the few trees until he sees the huge clearing of land, perfectly hidden for peak privacy. there’s a small pond just ahead with some ducks swimming around, and he knows yn would love to feed them when she sees them. harry quickly sets everything up how he wants it, making sure everything is perfect before he stands up to head back to his girl.

making his way through the trees once more, he has the brightest dimpled smile on his face the moment his car is in his line of sight. he can see yn sitting there and waiting patiently for his return, doing something on her phone. she looks up and gives him a bright smile when she sees him, harry opening the door so that she can hop out. he closes the door and she practically skips toward the trees she’d watched him go through, harry having to jog a bit to keep up.

when they make it through the maze of trees, he can’t help the way his smile gets brighter when he hears her gasp at the sight of the picnic. all of her favorite fruits, drinks, and her favorite sandwich from the diner they went to on their first date. all the little things that make her just melt for him, turning her into a puddle of gratitude and thankfulness right before his eyes.

he chuckles when he hears her squeal of excitement as she notices the ducks, pointing to them so that he can see them as well. they get onto the blanket after she gushes over them for a while, harry sitting down first so that yn can sit right across from him, and that she does, digging in as soon as she’s comfortable.

the two snack on fruits and split the sandwich as they talk for a long time, sharing stories from their pasts and their plans for the future. they don’t even realize that they subconsciously get closer and closer with time, until her legs are draped over his lap, harry’s hand running up and down her calf. well, he doesn’t, at least. he doesn’t pick up on the way that some of her sentences die off with each passing of his hand, or the way her breathing picks up whenever his hand goes higher.

not until his hand grazes her knee, finally, and she finally snaps, a quiet moan falling from her lips. harry stops right in the middle of his sentence, looking at her with raised eyebrows. “what was that, angel?” he questions, wanting to make sure she’s alright. “did i hurt you?” he pulls his hand away.

she’s quick to shake her head and reach for him again, and he thinks she’s going to place it back onto her knee but she actually moves further underneath her dress, right to where she needs him. his fingers meet the warmth of her center and he can’t hold back the moan that bubbles in his throat, exploring the area. it’s then that everything hits him, and realization dawns on him. a chuckle and a hum falls from his lips, his hand moving from underneath her dress.

“alright, baby. i see. won’t make you want any longer,” he croons, leaning toward her and pressing a kiss to the side of her mouth. she whimpers and leans into his touch before turning her head in search of his lips. he pulls away at the last second, causing her to let out a huff of frustration. “take y’panties off for me, angel. ‘s gonna be plenty of time for you t’kiss me, don’t worry,” he finishes, a smirk playing on his lips.

she hurriedly removes her legs from his lap, standing up and sliding her panties down her legs. she doesn’t bother stepping out of them when they reach the blanket beneath her feet, reaching for the bottom of her dress. harry reaches up and stops her. “keep that on for me, ‘s okay,” he murmurs. she drops the bottom of her dress just as he reaches down to grab the panties from underneath her, causing her to let out a giggle at how the dress sweeps over his face.

harry chuckles just a bit at her before tapping gently at her ankle, and she fully steps out of them for him before dropping down to her knees to sit right in front of hum. grasping them in his hand, he lets out a hum as his eyes flit up to meet hers. he runs his thumb over the center of them, the wetness of the material leaving his thumb a bit wet. holding them up to her, he watches her eyes widen a bit at the sight of the ruined material before she drags them away and off to the side somewhere to look anywhere but him.

he uses his free hand to reach up and gently grip her jaw, turning her head to face him. “no, need you to look at me bunny, it isn’t polite to be somewhere else when i’m in front of you,” he scolds, knowing he isn’t actually upset with her but she needs that in order to obey him. she hesitantly drags her eyes back to his, forcing her embarrassment down. “come down here,” he demands.

she instantly obliges and drops down to her knees before him, trying her hardest not to look away when he holds the ruined panties up to her. “need you to clean them for me, don’t want them to be ruined forever, bunny. ‘s expensive,” he explains vaguely, and she furrows her brows before turning to grab a napkin to clean them. a grunt of disapproval stops her, though, and she turns back to face him. “don’t need that. with your mouth, baby,” he corrects.

her eyes widen slightly at what he’s suggesting, but she’ll do almost anything for him, and although it’s a bit humiliating, it turns her on like no other. squeezing her thighs together, she bites down a moan and grabs the panties from him, flattening the material on her palm so that the crotch section is in her line of sight. she tries to avoid his eyes but she should’ve known better, harry’s hand coming up to grip her chin so their eyes can meet.

the impatient yet oddly calming look in his eyes is the last push she needs, her tongue peeking out of her mouth quickly to get to work on the wet fabric. she moans at the taste of herself, harry’s eyes still boring into hers as she cleans her mess. it’s not long before she cleans as much as she can, holding them up for harry to see.

“good girl,” he hums, taking the panties from her before reaching behind him to grab the bag that holds the toys. retrieving the bag, he turns back to her. the moment her eyes land on the bag, they light up as she has a good feeling about what the contents are. “lie down on your stomach for me, brought a surprise for you,” he grins, and she hurriedly scrambles to do so.

he unzips the bag and grabs the dildo he’d packed, along with some lube although he’s sure he won’t need it with how drenched she is. yn wants nothing more than to watch what he’s doing, but the suspense just makes her all the more excited. zipping the bag back up, he tosses it beside him before opening up the lube and pouring it onto the dildo. when it’s heavily coated, he places the lube down and uses his now free hand to push her dress up over her hips, tapping at her thigh to get her to spread them a bit more.

she takes the hint and does what he signaled, gasping when she almost immediately feels the toy against her heated lower lips. his actions are slow, teasing, even, as he adds more pressure so that the toy spreads her open, but he doesn’t immediately press in into her awaiting hole. with a roll of her eyes and a cry of frustration, she attempts to press her ass toward the toy, earning her a gentle but firm slap on her right ass cheek, a warning.

he isn’t surprised when she doesn’t fight back, and he rewards her lack of retaliation by finally pressing the toy into her, inching it in slowly as she gasps at the intrusion. when it bottoms out he leaves it there for her to adjust for a while, and after a few minutes she starts to get impatient. she tries her hardest not to show it, but he can tell she’s holding back, so he begins to move it inside of her, pulling it out just to push it back in. he keeps his actions steady and precise as her moans pick up, and it’s not long before she’s announcing her quickly approaching orgasm, no more words said as it immediately wracks her body.

she cums around the toy with a loud cry of relief, her body slumping against the blanket beneath her as she rides out the high. harry continues slowly moving the toy inside of her to prolong the orgasm, only stopping when she jolts a bit in overstimulation. he then pulls it out of her as slowly as possible, biting down a moan when he sees the glisten on the toy and her slightly gaping hole clenching around nothing in search of being filled again.

her breaths are still a bit shallow so he helps her out if her dress before urging her onto her back and keeping his hands on her body to ground her. she comes back to him within minutes, a sigh of contentment leaving her lips, swollen from biting them. harry honestly expects her to tap out then and there, tuckered out and ready to go home, but when she sits up to press her lips to his in the most desperate way, he can tell she wants more. and that he’ll give her.

without breaking their lips, harry pushes her onto her back once more, his hands exploring her body. when he reaches her chest, he can’t resist taking her nipples between his fingers and pinching them, just enough to make her moan into his mouth. he pulls away from the kiss first, shushing her groan of annoyance before reaching down between them and freeing his cock from its confines. her eyes widen as she realizes what’s about to happen; it’s what he’s been preparing her for, and she wants nothing more than to take it there.

he pushes his pants down to the thickness of his thighs and runs his thumb over his leaking tip, shuddering at that first touch of pleasure. a broken whimper falls from her lips as she watches him get himself ready for her, inpatient as ever. she doesn’t complain anymore, though, as he crawls to her until their bodies are touching, grabbing one of her legs and lifting it to get a better view.

using his free hand, he strokes his cock a few more times before lining up with her dripping and awaiting hole.

“‘m gonna go slow, angel. take real good care of you,” he promises, eyes exploring every inch of her face to make sure there’s no uncertainty or anxiety. she acknowledges his words with a confident nod, her hips bucking up to try and gain some sort of friction for her throbbing center.

taking his hand from her leg, he thinks it’d be better to have a distraction just in case there is a bit of a sting from the stretch, as he’s slightly thicker than her toy. longer, too. so he reaches between them and rubs gentle circles onto the head of her clit, pulling a contented hum from her. he keeps that up as he finally presses the head of his cock inside, happy that he doesn’t feel too much resistance from her tight hole.

his gaze flits up to her face and when he sees her with her eyes closed and a blissed out look on her face, he takes it as a green light. still moving slow, he presses himself into her until his hips meet her body, groans coming from the both of them when he passes over the thickest part. harry stays like that until he’s sure she won’t hurt when he moves, his thumb still drawing circles on her clit. his thrusts are slow and gentle when he starts moving, using his legs as leverage more than anything to get as deep inside her as possible.

“how’s it feel, bunny?” he questions, voice gentle and soothing. “‘s it feeling nice? not painful for you?” his voice comes out shaky, his teeth ground together as some form of keeping himself restrained. he’s forcing down each and every thought of absolutely wrecking his sweet girl, knowing she can’t handle that right now.

“‘s good, ‘s good, so deep inside me,” he whines beneath him, untucking her lip from between her teeth to get her words out. “my tummy’s so full, feels nice,” she finishes with a moan and a jolt when he angles his hips just a bit so that the head of his cock hits her g-spot head on.

“there we go, angel. that’s the spot i was looking for, know it gets you all dumb for me when i touch that, hm?” he coos condescendingly, adding just enough force to his thrusts that he has to hold her down by her hips with each one. she can’t even speak anymore, the constant assault on that spot inside of her rendering her speechless and her body numb. not a single coherent thought can be formed as the peak precision of his thrusts push her closer and closer to what she’s been craving.

removing his hands from her hips, harry decides to speed up the process just a bit by grabbing the backs of her thighs and pushing them up as far as they can go, holding them there with one hand and bringing the other to where their bodies meet, his thumb finding its way through her folds until he gets to her clit, pressing it right onto the head and rubbing firm circles in time with his thrusts. the added sensation and angle change draws a long, drawn out moan from her, her hands flying out on either side of her to push her up onto her palms a bit. the pleasure she’s feeling is so intense that she tries to both run away from it and lean into it, squirming away just for her hips to grind down to meet his thrusts.

“no, gotta take it, baby. almost there, know you’re so close for me,” he rasps, quickly removing the hand from her thighs and leaning forward to press some of his weight on top of her for better control. the feeling of harry’s warmth enveloping her sends her flying over the edge unexpectedly, the ball of pleasure that’s deep in her tummy practically exploding.

her back arches up off the blanket and into his chest as far as she can with him on top of her and her legs, eyes rolling back into her head. the orgasm takes over her body before she can even comprehend it, her hole fluttering around him for a moment before locking down onto his cock so hard that he has to squeeze his eyes shut, his balls drawing up so unexpectedly and intensely that it practically knocks the breath from his lungs.

“oh, fuck bunny- shit, ‘s squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, can’t hold it,” he gasps, accent as thick as ever as he grips onto the blanket beneath his palms. his hips stutter in rhythm for just a second, the final warning sign of his orgasm. he barely has time to push himself up and pull out of her, cum shooting from his tip just as he frees himself. one hand flies to the backs of her thighs as the other begins to stroke his cock quickly, milking himself for all he has. his cum is already painting the back of one of her thighs, dripping down to her ass with each passing second.

yn can barely see him from the small space between her legs, but just hearing him so wrecked from being inside of her makes her throb in excitement once again, a needy whimper falling from her lips when she hears him choke on a sob and feels something warm land right onto her pussy. she’s in the position for no more than a minute longer as his moans die down and his furious strokes become slower, and when her thighs are freed from the confines of his hand, she can’t help but keep them there and reach up to the one that’s covered in his orgasm and swipe a finger through.

dropping her legs finally, she looks harry right in the eyes as she brings that same hand up to her mouth and takes the finger inside, her tongue moving around it to get the full taste of him. harry can do nothing but let his eyes flutter closed as a choked moan falls from his lips. he wants nothing more than to simply wreck her until she’s crying and drooling but he can’t do that now, she’s not ready. he doesn’t even think he’ll be able to get it back up now, not with how she absolutely drained him.

so he does the next best thing; without even bothering to clean up the mess that covers the both of them, he adjusts himself until he’s flat on his stomach, grabbing the outsides of her thighs when he’s eye level with her pussy. “‘m gonna take care of you, bunny. don’t worry. gonna clean you up too,” he whispers, eyes meeting hers when he hears a desperate cry come from her. she’s already so sensitive that he knows it won’t take long to make her cum, but that doesn’t mean he should half ass it.

pressing gentle kisses to the soft skin of her thighs, he ignores her huffs of frustration when he doesn’t immediately start licking into her. the kisses travel closer and closer to where she’s messy and throbbing for him, but they are way too slow for her taste. one last groan comes from her before she’s had enough, propping herself up on an elbow and reaching forward with her free hand, grabbing the back of his head and pushing his face onto her.

a noise of shock leaves him at how bold she’s become, but he has to respect it, chuckling against her before nipping at one of her swollen lower lips. she gasps quietly at the sting but it melts into a moan as he, in one fell swoop, licks into her folds before sucking her swollen and sensitive clit into his mouth. her grip tightens on him and she grinds her hips against him to chase the pleasure, tossing her head back as her back arches up from the blanket.

the tug on his hair forces a groan of delight from him and he only buries his face further into her, beginning to alternate between licking and sucking at her. the vibrations rumble into her body, the knot in her belly tightening out of nowhere. she’s become incoherent above him the closer she gets to her orgasm, wordless babbles leaving her lips as she tries to warn him of it.

his actions simply increase tenfold, licks and sucks a bit more precise as he pulls the orgasm from her. just a few moments later he feels her thighs start to fight to tighten around his head and a long, loud moan falls from her lips as her final orgasm wracks her body. she goes so stiff that her thigh muscles begin to cramp slightly, her legs shaking from the force.

harry begins to lick at her a bit gentler than he had before so he can avoid overstimulating her too much, his hands caressing her thighs while she tries to recover. for her, it feels like forever until her body fully relaxes, small aftershocks jolting her body with each relaxation. she’s gasping for air when her body is finally freed, her chest heaving from the intensity of everything.

he notices some tears that have leaked down the sides of her face, and he takes a wipe from the container he’d brought and cleans her face thoroughly before grabbing some more to clean up her lower half. when he gets to her vagina she gasps and pulls away in overstimulation, causing him to frown just a bit. “i know, bunny. just have t’get you cleaned up ‘s all. won’t be long,” he coos, using one hand to spread her open gently and the other to gingerly wipe the area.

once she’s all clean he moves to the backs of her thighs, wiping his sticky, drying cum from them. it takes a bit more effort to do so, but he isn’t complaining, taking his time and keeping an eye on her breathing. when she’s fully clean, he helps her sit up and puts her dress back onto her, murmuring words of encouragement each step of the way. “can you stand up, angel? think you can walk to the car with me or do y’need some help?” he questions, voice soft as to not disturb the calm and quiet state of her.

“i can walk, i think,” she responds, and harry hops up before reaching back down to help her up. she’s a bit shaky for a moment but she becomes stable after a few seconds of being on her feet. he guides her to the car slowly, and he’s surprised for a moment that she isn’t wincing or limping a bit, but he quickly realizes it’s probably due to the adrenaline rush she’s feeling.

they make it to the car and he helps her in before pressing a kiss to her head and then running back to clean up their area. walking back to the car, he smiles fondly at her as he realizes she’s already fallen asleep, light snores leaving her parted lips. he packs everything into the trunk and hops into the driver’s seat.

the drive back is nothing short of calm and peaceful, some song she’d added to the queue on the drive there playing softly in the vehicle. he makes it to his house before he knows it, and when he pulls into his garage he turns the car off before running into the house and up the stairs to quickly start a bath for her. he does the works; bubbles, soothing oils, and he lights a candle that is on his counter before running back down to the car to unload it. he does so as quietly as possible because he wants waking her up to be the last thing so that she can just wake up and get in the bath.

he takes a bit to put away everything from the car and when he goes to check the bath, it’s ready for her. turning the water off, he heads back down to the garage to wake her up. knocking on the passenger side window, he gives her some time to lift her head before opening the door, chuckling at her when he sees the confusion on her face as well as a mark on her from the door. “we’re at my house, angel. i ran you a bath and i want to clean you up a bit and then i promise i’ll let you sleep,” he whispers, and she nods a bit grumpily from being woken up but a bath sounds heavenly so she obliges.

stepping out of the car, she does start to feel that slight sting between her legs from the stretch and the burn in her thighs from the angle he had her in, but she brushes it off as she knows the bath will work wonders. they step into the bathroom and it’s just like all of the emotions of the day, the month even, hit her at once. her eyes well with tears and her shoulders slump when they take over her, and she turns her body to bury her face into his chest.

“thank you, thank you,” she sobs against him, and his heart both breaks and warms for her, his arms coming to wrap around her. they stay there for a while as she gets all of her emotions out, harry whispering encouragement words and pressing kisses to the top of her head. her breath is still a bit stutter-y as she pulls away from him, quickly turning to the toilet paper to clean herself up, but he beats her to it, grabbing some off the roll and cleaning her up. she’s so grateful that she gets a bit teary again, but then harry starts to press kisses all over her face, making her giggle.

“alright, bunny. let’s get you in the bath,” he instructs, tossing the toilet paper out. he pulls the dress over her head once more and she steps out of her shoes. being naked in front of him, she expects to feel a bit self conscious despite how many times he’s seen her, but this time she feels nothing but warm and fuzzy. full, even, as he smiles at her with a look of pure adoration in his eyes.

she walks over to the tub and steps in, humming at the temperature of the water, it’s actually perfect for her. the water covers her up to around her armpits and she relishes in the warmth before looking up at her boyfriend expectantly. he laughs at the look on her face before explaining himself. “i’m gonna get in with you, don’t worry, ms grumpy, just need to grab some towels and clothes for when we get out,” he chuckles, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her lips as if to seal his promise.

a belly laugh leaves him when he’s walking out and he hears her mumble something about not taking too long or she won’t let him in. he knows she won’t make good on her words but he still hurries back to her, wanting to be near her. he makes it back to her and quickly sheds his clothes, walking over to the tub and having her scoot up so he can slide behind her. the warmth envelops him and he envelops her, wrapping his arms around the front of her to pull her closer.

they stay like that for a while, so long that their fingers have gone pruny by the time they pull apart. harry is the one that breaks the contact, and he only does so because he notices that she starts to doze off, and he wants to clean her up before she falls asleep again. she grumbles a bit at the slight loss of warmth but when she feels harry start to clean her up, she understands.

he takes his time and cleans her up thoroughly before letting her sit there for a few while he cleans himself up. when he’s all clean he steps out of the tub first, drying off a bit before wrapping the towel around his waist and then he’s helping her out and doing the same for her, wrapping the towel around her upper body. harry guides them to the bedroom and drops the towel from his waist to slip on some boxers before making sure yn is fully dry and grabbing the t shirt he’d picked out earlier and helping her slide it over her head. he decided not to give her a pair of his boxers to sleep in so that he could let her lower half breathe through the night.

pulling back the blankets on the bed, he lets her get in and comfortable, passing her the remote to his tv so she can pick something to fall asleep to. while she does that, he goes downstairs and grabs her a bottled water from his fridge, downing one for himself before going back up. he opens the bottle and passes it to her, to which she thanks him and drinks all of it in record time. she finishes the drink and he takes it from her to place on the nightstand to toss tomorrow, hitting the light and climbing into the bed beside her.

a fond smile forms on his face when he sees that the show she chose for the night is rick and morty, something he remembers her telling him a couple weeks ago. the volume isn’t too loud as to keep them awake, the sound just loud enough to make out the words of the characters.

the two sit and watch the show until their eyes become unbearably heavy, and when harry feels yn slide down even further under the blankets before cuddling into him, he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes open even if he wanted to. so he wraps his arms around her and pulls her even closer, despite knowing that they’ll get hot sometime soon, and he presses one last kiss to the top of her head before the exhaustion finally catches up to them and they’re asleep in seconds, light snores leaving their lips.

well…🥲

539 notes · View notes

en-archive · 5 months

Note

thoughts on car sex with enha hyungline?:3

Sorry for the delayed answer anon <3 🐇 🎀

Pairing; ENHA! Hyung Line x Reader

Synopsis: Hyung line fucking in the cars with their S/O.

Warnings: voyeurism (duh), spanking, car fucking, DUI, getting drunk, fucking in public places, drinking, swearing, smut, all that fiasco, lmk if I miss anything. this is kinda not proof-read, skinny dipping, secret relationship notes. Keeper loves everything forbidden.

wc:

🐇 🎀 HEESEUNG

I can imagine Heeseung and you being college students. His dorm is never empty, and his nerd of a roommate always stays home, studying his ass off for his STEM major, while he lays there on the lower bunk bed, begging the poor guy to go get some fresh air because he has blue balls and wants to call you up. But he never lets up, so Heeseung has no other choice but to groggily grab his car keys and text you to get ready for pick up. You never complain, you know the situation, because you have equally as much of a nerd roommate who does not even go out to party. When he picks you up in his not-so-old but not-so-new car model, you immediately make yourself comfortable in the passenger seat.

Heeseung usually never implies that he wants sex, but the way he demands you go with him, you know you two will be making yourselves comfortable in the oh-so-familiar dark parking lot on the campus. The ride there is always funny: he cracks jokes, gets silly with you, plays dumb songs and the road can't get any longer. When he does pull up to the secluded parking lot, he immediately quirks his eyebrows very nonchalantly, like he is not about to fuck your brains out, if you would prefer the back seat or his lap by the wheel.

Knowing how you had a bruised back from last time, you pick the back seat, to which he squeals and immediately climbs in the back, spreading his legs, and taking off his sweatshirt, not before he turns up the heat in the car. The silence is almost silly, the atmosphere even sillier when you look around and make sure no one has followed you or is watching you like a creep.

When you take your pants and sweater off, you make yourself busy on his lap, immediately attaching your lips to his, grabbing his chin with your nails, and whining into his mouth. Heeseung goes weak at your equal neediness, knowing you were probably craving to get railed when you answered his message in a record time of a second. Truth is, Heeseung hates to not have the comfort of his home and bed when he does fuck with you; the way he would have you in so many positions only if he could, but most he has done in this forsaken car is almost slam you into one of the windows and rail you from behind.

His hands find your nipples almost instantly, soothing your eager self as you almost rip your panties and make yourself busy with the ties on his sweatpants, trying to free his equally painful hard-on. Almost instantly his fingers find your folds, swiping the pillow of his middle finger on your folds and then your entrance as he painfully enters you knuckle deep.

"I would sell my left kidney just to have you in my dorm, every night! Naked, and so pretty for me! You're so good for me!" He whispers slowly as he locks his lips with yours and adds another digit to your begging core. He bends his skinny knuckles inside you, finding that sweet spot that makes you see stars, but he never likes to make you cum on his fingers, so he hastily pulls out his dick, pumping himself once or twice before he painfully buries himself inside you.

Car sessions never last long, since both of you are pretty aroused by the time you meet, and the lewd act of public sex almost has you tipping over mentally, your inner voyeurism kicking in. His hands grip your ass, trying to keep you on his dick longer with each thrust, but you are whining begging him to pick up the pace. Heeseung hates making a mess in the car, and so do you, which usually means he gets to finish inside you. You love the way he always bucks his hips before he unloads himself, only for you to be there, taking up every last bit.

🐇 🎀 JAY

Listen Jay is a classy man, I think we have all similarly thought about this scenario. It would probably be in a luxury car, the latest release. Both of you already would be in a long-term relationship by now. From managing his business to helping his father, when the opportunity comes for you to meet his parents, the family doesn't shy away from doing it lavishly. He picks you up in his car, and like the pretty passenger princess you are, you take your place right beside him. The tension is heavy in the air: it's your first time meeting them and quite literally you are freaking out. Your man is dressed in a grey and black suit and quite honestly, you wish you could make him stop, right now, in the middle of the road, and take a ride... on him. But you knew better than that to keep yourself clean and presentable. The dress that you wore wasn't even that sexy, but it was right to his taste, with a good portion backless, not too much, and not too inappropriate.

The slit of the dress only reached up to your knee, revealing the beautiful cherry kitten heels he had bought for you. While the meeting went well, you couldn't ignore the tension in Jay's voice, and the double meaning of his words that you were sure his parents couldn't understand. Before the meeting with them had ended, mind you splendidly, his mother had complimented on the choice of your shoes, at which you almost dared to say it was his genius son who had bought them for you, but you kept your mouth shut, feeling Jay squeezing your hand.

When the two of you finally departed for home, you saw him loosen up his buttons and expose his chest to the cool air of the breeze, flowing through the slightly pulled-down window. His hand came shaking towards you, slowly grabbing your thigh and squeezing it, not too rough yet not too softly.

"Jay?" it came more like a whisper than a question, you knew he was tense, somewhat eager for something, he always acted this way when he wanted you. Realization kicked in when he parked his car in the darkest corner of the parking lot, immediately getting to business as his hands finally came to grasp your cheek, the sudden action making you gasp. He used this as a chance to let his tongue collide with yours, his other hand immediately coming to find the slit on your dress, only to snake up his hand up to your core.

"Jay!" you whisper, the hot air filling the car from the two of you, to his lewd kissing made your head spin, made you want to take off your dress and sit on him immediately.

"You are so fucking beautiful, and that color looks so good on you. " He noted towards the shoes, it had been his small fantasy the moment he saw them, how they would look beautiful on you, as you lay naked there for him, only in these damn cherry red kitten heels, as he pounded into you in the mattress, but before that, the car had to do. He could not wait. He hurriedly pushed his seat to the back, undoing his belt he motioned you to come on his lap, at which you obliged, immediately getting to the business of taking off your dress, staying in your flimsy black underwear that barely covered your ass, and the red kitten heels. Jay's favorite is everything.

When you finally took your place in his lap, you threw the dress somewhere in the back seat, immediately pulling your panties to the side and helping him get his cock out of the pants of his suit. He wasted no time, attaching his tongue to your chest, immediately caressing his hands up and down your thighs only to give your ass a good smack and slam inside you with no delay.

"Let me hear you, love!" He whispered but you were hesitating: you were in public, and despite the secluded area, there was no way someone wouldn't hear you in the parking lot cameras. He delivered another smack to your ass, making it red where his hand came in contact with your flesh. You whimpered and with no other choice but to moan you started chanting his name like a prayer when his hips restlessly started bucking up into you.

"Please wear them for me again yeah?" He begged with puppy eyes as his balls started hitting your soppy cunt. The night was still young for Jay.

🐇 🎀 JAKE

For Jake, it is always the beach, he is an Aussie, and he cannot help going there every time he has a chance in Korea, so when Jake and you took a trip down in Busan, surely both of you visited Haeundae beach. You got in your best bikini for the date, and while you wanted to tan during the day, you both found yourself cuddled up in the chilly hotel room, sleeping most of the noon after the tiring day. When 5 PM rolled around, he was sure to rush you, saying the sun would go down sooner than the two of you would blink and how he still wanted to sunbathe. You got up only to freshen up and slip a beach dress over the bikini you had been wearing.

The trip down Haeundae was short but fun nevertheless, as both of you giggled like a bunch of teenagers. Both of you took turns dipping in the beach, smashing right into the waves and then tanning together, in whatever the sun had been left.

Despite what anyone might think about Jake, he gets your pussy any chance he gets, so he never really gets too frustrated in public, but when the nightlife comes to Busan it isn't any different from Itaewon or Hongdae. People start getting ready for clubbing, children and parents scurry away to homes, and even couples leave for food. But you and Jake are not done here. He had the perfect idea for the first night for you both in Busan and it involved skinny dipping and some drinking as he showed you the drinks he had got from the nearby bar some time ago.

"No way!" You exclaim, but then notice that despite the night coming down on the city, people were still pretty close around. Jake and you hopped in the vehicle again, only for him to try and find some more secluded area on the whole beach. At one point you almost had it but there were a bunch of campers, smoking s'mores by the fire. Some five minutes later, Jake had found a perfect place: secluded, almost unlit, and away from the public eye.

As soon as your feet had touched the sand, Jake was getting ready to crack open a cold one, handing you the first bottle of beer. The cold liquid cooled down your body in the humid heat.

"Feels good yeah?" Jake asked, smirking, when he took the bottle, bottom up to the sky, as half the liquid disappeared. You looked at him mischievously as soon as he finished drinking, signaling with your eyes and smile for him to take off his clothes.

In a minute, both of you were racing towards the water, trying to get to the warm night waves first, you were lucky no one saw you in this very lewd and naked state. When the water finally hit both of you, laughter came to you naturally, as Jake groaned out in satisfaction, enjoying the cool, yet warm water of the sea.

"I wish we could do this more often." You whispered in the water as you got close to him, wrapping your hands around his shoulders, his hands automatically coming to wrap around your waist.

"Yeah, I know baby, but we can do this anytime, or even the whole day tomorrow, mh?" he gave you a small peck on the lips before walking forward, pushing you backward towards the car. You knew this would all eventually lead to sex on the beach, the drinking, the evening sun, the playing around, and the prospect of having sex on the beach excited you both, without the other knowing about it. When he finally opened his empty truck of the car, he laid you on the soft surface carefully. Not breaking the kiss he grabbed one of the towels draped around the car trunk as he dried himself and wrapped the slightly damp towel around your shoulders.

"Mh, Jakey" you grabbed on his biceps as the second bottle of the beer you both had consumed kicked in late, blood rushing directly to your heat. His lips found your neck, peppering kisses on the delicate wet skin, as his slightly cold fingers found your cunt, already so wet for him.

Jake slightly slurred "baby", cooing at you as his shaft slapped on your inner thigh, making you shiver from the pleasure, and lack of friction inside you.

"Please! I can't take it anymore." You didn't have to tell him twice before he entered with his shaft agonizingly slow. He loved doing this to you, looking at your reaction as you took him in, lavishing in the expressions that followed him bottoming out in you.

All of this was so foreign to you, the skinny dipping for the first time, the fear of getting caught at a place so public, while drinking and having to drive later. So many taboos and Jake balls deep in you made your head spin, the towel he had draped over you some minutes ago now slipping, exposing your bare body even more to the sea. You gripped his shoulders, holding onto them for dear life as you tried not to slip from his trunk, all the while the tip of his dick simultaneously hit your cervix. The alcohol and the overall situation got to Jake too, the moans now much more whiny as he buried his head in your neck and bit down on your shoulder when he came relatively harder than he had ever. His hot load shoots right up into your uterus.

🐇 🎀 SUNGHOON

Sunghoon and you should not even have been dating. He had been prohibited for at least the first three years, yet he could not keep himself away from you. His manager tried his best to support him, covering his ass if he were to ever get caught meeting you. Yet, when the evening fell and the group left their practices, he could not help but think about meeting you, to the point where he was ready to run away and spend the whole night with you, only to deal with the consequences in the morning.

That was exactly his plan, as he hurriedly freshened himself up, told his manager he was taking the car for the night and would return in some hours. His manager, unfortunately, had no other choice but to warn him to be careful and to be home on time. Truth be told, Sunghoon wasn't a horny boy, yes he might have fucked around here and there, but considering you guys just had started your sexual life, he could rarely get enough of you. That is why he was dressed all clad in black, mask on his face, and a matching black cap covering his eyes and the very recognizable mole on his nose as he drove maturely out of the company parking lot and to your house.

You knew he would meet you the second time eventually this week, you just did not know it would be exactly the next day after the first one. As you saw the message pop up in your phone, you knew you were doomed to make an excuse to your parents, as to why their daughter had to go out, "because I ate too much, I just want to clear my head." which your mother bought. You were thankful today at least she did not voice out her desire to follow you for a walk.

Sunghoon had been skillful in finding a place in your neighborhood, considering the late hour, he knew that no one would be around, and if you both kept the lights dim, no one would even suspect a thing.

By the time you found his car, he was already sitting in the back of the car, waiting patiently for you, the only light illuminating his manager's car was the light that shone from his phone. As soon as you sat right beside him, he smiled, taking his fingers to tuck a loose strand behind your ear.

"I missed you!" He beamed as he took his coat, throwing it towards the back.

"We saw each other yesterday!" you scrunched your eyebrows, which made him laugh out loud in his slightly husky voice. Cupping your cheeks between his hands, he gave you a small peck that soon turned into a makeout session, his tongue darted around on your lip, asking you for permission, but you were not going to let up this easy. You had barely recovered from the fucking he had given you yesterday when the dorms were empty and he could finally take you properly on his mattress.

"Sunghoon" You mumbled barely into the kiss, as his hands started roaming inside your hoody, trying to find anything to fondle, before they found your breasts, cupping one as the other still held your face tenderly into the kiss.

"No leaving marks, I will never even let you touch me if you do," you warned as your lips felt a cold breeze when they left his. He nodded and immediately situated himself on the back seat, letting you fit right on his lap. There was not much time to fully undress or even get into your favorite part of his lips devouring your pussy, so the only option was for both of you to hastily undo your pants and for you to get rid of yours in a quick yet uncomfortable position.

"I can never get enough of you, you know that?" You noticed lately, as you guys became more and more exclusive around people, how possessive he had begun to sound. He would use this deep voice on you, sending shivers down to your core as the familiar itch would start without even him trying too hard.

He briskly unzipped his dark jeans, smirking up at you as his hair fanned the sides of his face so beautifully, that the only illuminating light coming inside the car was a barely working street light that flickered from time to time. The small beauty mark on his nose that you oh so loved to kiss in between, but now this beautiful and almost innocent-looking man had his dick buried deep within your walls, circling his hips into yours as his hands came to grip your waist, surely to leave marks.

You tried containing your moans, knowing the nosey neighborhood tended to listen to anything that went down between them. You muffled the moans that threatened to escape, inhaling his sweet yet musky scent as he chuckled lowly to himself, teasing you for not trying to make any noise.

"You look so much more desperate for me when you try to hold yourself back. Hm, cat got your tongue princess? " he cooed, hitting a certain spot inside you with a much bigger force, making you yelp in his hands. Your hoody had now been hunched over your boobs, his nails painfully forming red crescent moons in your sides, as he threw his head back, trying not to shoot his load too soon.

"I could do this whole day!" he groaned out as his thrusts became abnormal in pace, knowing he was close, you held onto your orgasm, allowing him to let you ride it out. As he let the last drops of his load coat your walls, he patted you on the ass, helping you get dressed in the small space of the car.

"Now go enjoy that tea again you were having." A promise to see you tomorrow yet again lingered in his naughty yet giggly voice.

366 notes · View notes

shhh-secret-time · 5 months

Note

rahhhh i’m such a fan of your writing omg and I never request stuff so i’m very nervous to send this but can I Pretty Please ask for something w kyle who’s usually more of a sub being asked to like Go Crazy Dom and at first he’s nervous but then like completely gets into it and wrecks reader’s shit please…. thank u for yr service🙏🏼

Oh lovelies you never need to be nervous when sending requests, I know it can be intimidating but believe me I say this truly makes my day!

That being said, I hope you don't mind that I've combo the request with someone else's! I'm getting a lot of Kyle and I wanna make sure everyone gets a little of what they want! And there is filth ahead so get your bibles ready. Sinners the lot of you.

Me too

Warning: NSFW, Slight choking, Dom!Kyle, Sub!Reader, Breeding Kink, Oral, Strong Language

Pairing: Kyle x Fem!Reader

Notes: Shout out to the roommate who talked me through making a Danish so I didn't have to google it lmao.

The smell of brown sugar and cinnamon filled the air swirling around in your small kitchen. The morning light peeks through the curtains of the circular window in front of the sink, you smile at the view of lilac and orange seemed to blend. You've read things online where people compared the morning sky to painting where the paint seemed to just melt together, and it seemed like one of those days. If you were better with a camera, you'd take a picture just to share it. That and the fact that you had a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and a very sleepy curly red-haired man nuzzling into your shoulder.

Your husband Kyle was never a morning person, for all his perfections and his strict schedule keeping, when the morning sun would greet him, he'd return the greeting with a groan and a feeble attempt to hide. You were trying to revive the poor man by making a pot of coffee, the warm brown liquid was the only thing that brought him back to the land of the living. The man ran off of coffee, you were sure the Tweeks owed half their business to him. With the coffee pot humming its little tune and the smell of ingredients laid out across the counter this morning just seemed perfect. Now if only your husband didn't have to leave and go to work if he could just stay with you and keep you warm.

The crisp morning air seeped into the house and sure you could change out of the basketball shorts you stole from him, and the large T-shirt you stole from him, oh the fluffy socks you stole from him but then you wouldn't smell like him. Because he would be leaving after he got through with his morning routine, and you'd be alone in this cold little house.

"What's with the face baby?" His voice broke you out of your little pout, the sleepy gravel laced in each word sent a shiver down your spine.

"What face? I'm making apple and brown sugar Danishes..." You say with a little smile on your face knowing full well he was going to keep bugging you about this.

"Hm... that’s why you had your lip poked out. And your brows were doing that thing." How did he know? He still had his face buried in you, now pushed into the crook of your neck.

You only hum in response as you focus on the apple in your hands, the knife gliding across the skin of the ruby red fruit. He knew better than to mess with you while you were handling dangerous kitchen tools, so he waited until you finished. Once you finished slicing the apples you gently placed them into the lemon water mixture, it would keep the apples fresh while you worked on the rest of the pastry. Next your hands find the mixing tool and begin to pull together nutmeg, brown sugar, butter, salt, and finally the cinnamon. Because you didn't have a lot of time in the mornings, knowing your husband had little time, you prepared the flour before he even stirred.

"You can't ignore me forever; I'm just going to keep bugging you until you tell me why you made such an adorable face." Kyle reminds you that he's still latched onto you by placing a lazy kiss on your neck, his lips trailing down towards your shoulder touching any skin that's exposed by the baggy shirt.

Every little kiss pulled you further and further away from your mixing, you couldn't help but melt under his affection. That didn't stop you from trying. You try squirming away from his lips, pushing your cheek against his face to nudge it out of the way.

"Baby, I'm trying to make you breakfast. Do you want to go to work hungry?"

"Hmm no, but if it means getting you to talk then I can suffer a little." He responds by tugging you back against him pulling you away from the bowl, the only shield against his wondering lips.

Kyle turns you around and lifts you up so you're facing him, using the counter so that you can look him in the eye. He's lucky you already put the ingredients you needed in the bowl, it didn't matter how pretty he looked with his messy bedhead and his soft green eyes, if he ruined your work, he'd get more than a pout. You expect him to move his hands from under your thighs, but he doesn't, instead he slots himself in between your legs and keeps the warmth of his palm on your exposed skin.

"No where to run now, come on love talk to me."

You look away for a moment, the heat from his hands was almost as warm as the blush on your face. "I- was just thinking about how lonely it is sometimes when you leave for work. I miss you..." You finally cave, how can you not under his gaze especially when it softens as you speak.

Kyle lets out a soft 'oh' that seems to drag out along with a sigh. He places a soft kiss on your cheek, one of his hands leaves your thigh and cups the side of your face his lips aren't on. "I'm sorry, you know getting out of bed is one of the hardest things I do every morning. I want nothing more than to stay wrapped up in the blankets with you."

This is why you didn't want to say anything, it was a selfish feeling. He was the one going out to provide for you both, he was the one who had to leave the house while he insisted that you stayed home to relax. When you first married Kyle, it was one of the first things he expressed he wanted, the need to take care of you and pamper you. It was a dream at first, having all that time to yourself and your hobbies and the only thing you needed to focus on was keeping the house clean.

Kyle pulls your face towards him, his index finger hooking under your chin to guide you back to him. His face drops to a frown when he sees the look on your face, his eyes studying you carefully.

"Hey, why don't we go out tonight? We can get some dinner and maybe catch a movie?" He's trying and it's so sweet, the way he doesn't seem to even mind your selfishness.

"That sounds nice. I'm sorry Kyle." You smile at him giving him a little kiss on the nose.

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything wrong."

"It's just-...you're the one that has to work and I'm being, I dunno clingy?"

"Baby you're not clingy. Honestly, I love that you want me here. I want to be here." If he wasn't already smiling at the way you kissed his nose, he definitely has a love filled grin now.

"I know and it makes me feel bad for telling you. Like, it's probably already hard enough for you to go to work."

Kyle goes quiet for a only a moment before shaking his head, the red curls bouncing from side to side as he does. He sighs softly and looks at you with heavy lidded eyes. The love in his smile matches the soft greens of his eyes.

"You're so sweet. Such a wonderful wife, you know that? I can't believe I'm this lucky to have married someone so considerate." Between his barrage of compliments and the way he peppers your face with so many soft kisses you can't argue back. "You're not making my life harder by wanting me to stay, I'm not burdened by you, I promise. Have I ever been the kind of guy to keep that kind of thing quiet?"

No. If Kyle Broflovski felt strongly about something you would hear it. It was honestly one of your favorite things about him, you never had to guess how he felt or if he wasn't upset and was too afraid to tell you. There were moments where he needed time to sort out his feelings or he'd explode, and he swore he'd never do that to you. Not you, not the person he bound his life to.

"There's more to this isn't there? Come on love, what is it?" Kyle Broflovski was also very good at reading you, turns out.

You pressed your lips together as your hands worked up towards his hair, carding your fingers through his fiery red curls. He hummed in delight at the way your fingers felt against his scalp, if you didn't want to risk ruining the moment, you'd compare him to a cat.

One should feel honored that Kyle would even allow them to see his hair when he was a kid, now here you were touching it and even massaging his scalp. You swore if you had enough time, you'd have him purring in your hands.

"I was just thinking about a way to not make the house so lonely."

"You want me to see if I can't start working from home? It'll be a little difficult, but I can-"

"No, no. I mean that would be awesome but no. I mean like...what if we had a little us running around? You know?" You whisper letting your voice drop as if someone could be listening in on your conversation.

Kyle's eyes widen and you watch his face turn a bright red, the freckles on his face pop against his skin. You've never seen him react like that, even before you were married in those early dating stages. Sure, there were times where he got nervous, times where he felt his heart speed up when he looked at you, times where he was puddy in your hands and you could pull a side of him that he'd never show anyone else.

In the bedroom it was you who took the lead. Maybe it was because Kyle was so busy being "dominate" in other parts of your relationship that when it was time for love making, he just wanted to let someone else have control. Being able to shut his mind off and just focus on the wonderful feeling you gave him was what heaven felt like, he was sure. And he was just lucky you liked the role, that you took to it so easily. There was no shame in his eyes, he just wanted to keep what you both did between you two. The world didn't need to know what went on behind closed doors. But the way he looked at you told a different story.

"You...want a baby? My baby?" His voice matches your level, but his voice seems to dip lower than his usual sleepy voice.

"Who else? I know we haven't really talked about it, but I think we're in a good spot and we'd make really good parents."

When Kyle doesn't respond you squirm a little on the counter, shifting in his hold that seemed to tighten around your thigh. You watched as he took a deep breath, and his eyes fluttered shut. Then he grabbed his phone and began tapping away against the screen. You went to move so you could give him the privacy he needed as your eyes caught the little text bubbles being sent. You tried your hardest not to read what he was texting but his hand on your thigh squeezed around the soft flesh, a silent warning to keep still. The way his jaw shifts and the veins in his arms poke out makes you tilt your head in confusion.

"I called off." His voice breaking the silence makes you jolt, that and the way he tosses his phone to the side.

"What?! Why!? I don't want to be the reason you're staying home." You try to protest further but you're cut off by the way his lips slam into yours.

"I've got plenty of sick days I never use. You're sitting here in my clothes talking about wanting my baby. And god damn it I didn't even want to go in today anyway." He growls in between the kisses, emphasizing each word.

"I always wear your clothes though! I don't see-... Kyle did asking for a baby get you worked up?" You ask pulling him back from your lips by his hair, he usually likes when you tug on the roots.

He lets out a small moan, but it's cut off by another growl, he grabs your hands holding your smaller wrists in his one hand. Pinning them above your head against the cabinets behind you makes you gasp, and your eyes widen. This was a new side to him that had your core pulsing with desire.

He didn't need to answer, you got it from that alone, but he did. "You have no idea how long I've been thinking about wanting to fill you up. How bad I wanna cum in you until there's no question that you're pregnant."

You shutter and whimper at the way he speaks to you, his dirty talk working its magic. As the years went on, he worked on trying to keep it out of his vocabulary, but in moments like this where he gets worked up it would slip out.

But it never came out like this, you never realized how much you liked Kyle like this. You never saw the looks he would give you when you were so busy taking care of Ike. The way his eyes would linger with a dark hunger behind them as you took care of his baby brother like it was second nature. Thoughts of your own kids grabbing at your hip and hugging your leg, a baby in your arms and another one in his. How jealous he was that Stan told him one night that he was trying with his partner for kids. How Kenny already had one with another one the way. Kyle wanted his kids to grow up with theirs, maybe they'd be best friends like they were.

More importantly he wanted to see you pregnant, the need to take care of you was ingrained so deeply that he wanted this. Needed this. His cock was aching already over the fact that you brought it up and he didn't have to. You came to him wanting a baby and fuck he was going to give you one. Especially if you kept whimpering and pressing your body against his like that.

"Who's getting worked up now? Do you like that idea? C'mon talk to me Mama." Oh, the way he called you that was dangerous, his hot breath ghosting over your exposed collarbone.

"I-I-" You can't get it out, the way your head is spinning and the way his lips are working, making his mark on your skin. You yelp when his teeth sink in and his grip on your wrists tightens. "I do! I-I want you!"

He seemed to like that, liked the way you beg for him so easily. You feel him smirk into your skin and his free hand push up your shirt. His fingertips glide across your skin finding your breasts, there he gives your nipple a sharp pinch, rolling the nub between his index finger and this thumb. "You sound so pretty like this; I should have done this forever ago.... I'm gonna let your hands go so I can get this shirt off you. You keep them there." Kyle wasn't asking, not the way he clicked his tongue and rolled your nipple.

You cry out and nod, barely able to verbally respond, the pain was intoxicated something you didn't even know you liked. If this was how he was acting from just talking about putting a baby in you, you couldn't wait until he was actually fucking you. For now, you'd play his game, keep your hands above your head so he can slip the faded T-shirt off you.

"I never get tired of this." Next comes your shorts, he unties the strings keeping the baggy basketball shorts up and around your waist. His hands working on pulling them down until they pool beneath his feet, kicking them to the side. "I can't believe you thought for a second I would be upset with you for wanting me to stay home. Fuck, I'm glad you said something. Guess I don't have to worry about going to work hungry hm?" He returns to your neck, but he doesn't stay for long, he kisses a heated trail down to your breasts.

There his lips latch onto your hardening buds. His tongue swirls around the pink flesh hungrily sucking until they're red and sore. Each little cry and moan you let out only encourages him to give the other side the same attention. All the while his hands work on opening your legs to him.

His attention is pulled away when he feels your soaked cunt. Expecting to find your panties, he growls and looks down at you. You don't know how he went from looking you in the eye, to almost hovering over you with such a dangerous look. How he made you feel so small like you were prey.

"Was this a part of your plan? Make those adorable pouting faces and get me to fuck you on the kitchen counter? Wear nothing under my clothes so I can dive right into that delicious looking pussy?" You moan and throw your head back, not just from how filthy he spoke but from how he bit the inside of your thigh.

Teeth marks marking up and down your plump perfect thighs, they were perfect to him. Perfect in the way they felt under his teeth, perfect in the way they filled his hand, perfect in the way you tasted. All of you was perfect.

"Oh fuck~" You're nearly cut off by another gasp as his nips turn to kisses against your slit.

"Keep moaning like that, it goes so well with my breakfast." The way his tongue slipped through the lips of your cunt against your bud made your gasp turn to moans.

Kyle devoured you like you were his last meal, his tongue swirls around your nub like he had your breasts. You couldn't help as your hips rolled against his tongue chasing pleasure with greed, but he stops you with a firm hold on your thighs. His teeth graze your bud as a warning, a silent demand for you to sit still, but if the way he spoke and pinned you down was anything to go off of; you needed to keep pushing. So, you pushed against his hold again, squirming against his mouth.

When Kyle pulls back and clicks his tongue, it isn't until you see the look in his eyes that you know you're in trouble. "I kept my hands up like you told me to...w-what is it?"

"You know what. I'm trying to eat my meal in peace and you're making it very hard. Quit being a brat."

"But I was just-"

Kyle cuts you off again, but not with his lips or his own words, but from his hands wrapped around your throat. The tips of his fingers applied a healthy amount of pressure to cut off just enough air to make your head spin. His eyes narrow down at you as he forces your head up.

"You were just...what? Arguing with me? No, I think you were going to say, I'm sorry I won't move my hips again. I'll keep still so you can eat."

He waits. Waits for you to nod before letting your throat go, then he waits another second looking at you expectedly. As you gasp for air your tongue traces your bottom lip. "I... I’m sorry and I'll keep still so you can eat."

"Good girl."

Oh. Oh. Maybe you were more of a switch than you thought. Maybe it was just the way he said that with that delicious purr. At this moment you didn't really care to put a label on it, you were just burning from the praise. Not like you had a lot of time to think about it anyway, not when he knelt back down and started eating you out. His lips latched onto the sensitive nub pulling a moan from you as he sucked, his tongue flicks over it again and again. He's attentive to every sound you make from the way your muscles flex and bounce under his touch. All but humming when your yell for God or his name.

Throwing your head back, you swore you were seeing stars when he shook his head back and forth. The friction had you clenching around nothing and your nails digging into the wooden cabinets behind you.

"Kyle baby, I'm gonna cum. Please let me cum. I-I've been good I did what you told me!"

When he doesn't say anything, you have to fight the urge to grab him by the head and force him to look up at you. Slowly he looks up at you and the little flicker of fire behind them tells you all you need. It takes everything in your power not to close your eyes as you cum around his tongue, even more so when his tongue begins to greedily lap it up. You mewl and squirm trying to pull away from him, but he won't let you, won't let you move from his hold. Nothing you could have baked for him would taste as perfect as you do.

"So sweet~. Hmm always taking care of me." Kyle rubs his lips against your thighs again, wiping the slick off his jaw.

As he stands back up, he can't help but admire his work. The way your skin is marked with his teeth marks, the purple bruises on your thighs shaped like his hand, and now the way your face is flushed a dark red as you try to catch your breath. You can't quite read what's going on in his head, but he's got that look like he's thinking about something. The way his brows knit together and his eyes flicker from you to around the room.

Then he hums, picks you up and carries you over to the kitchen table. You shiver when the cool wood hits your back but it's a distant complaint as he hovers over you. Somewhere between the counter and the table he's slipped off his plaid bottoms and his boxers. Discarded somewhere with your clothes, you click back into reality as he pulls his shirt over his head. Most of his freckles are covering his shoulders, dusting across the pale skin and down his back. He raises a brow at you when he catches you admiring just how handsome he really is. It's only morning and he's already got you so dazed and worked up.

"Got something to say Mama?"

Fuck you were really beginning to like that, "just thinking about how incredibly lucky I am. We're gonna make some really pretty babies."

He smirks at you, the kind that would have made you fall to your knees if you weren't laying on the table. "Yeah? I was just thinking the same thing. How fucking beautiful you are. How pretty you're gonna look when I finally paint your insides."

You cover your mouth to stop the moan from slipping out of your mouth, but once again he stops you and pins your hands by your side. "No. Let me hear you. I need to hear you begging for my cock. Beg me to fill you up."

It takes a few teasing glides of his cock over you folds and a few more growls before you finally cave. The way the words roll of your tongue is like sin. "Please Kyle, I want you to fuck a baby into me. I want it so bad; it has to be you. Only you!"

"Fuck!" His own resolve crumbles just as the tip of his cock slips back down to your begging hole.

This isn't the first time you've felt him without a condom but this time it felt so different. Knowing he wasn't going to pull out this time was exciting, the fact that he could just let go and take you however he wanted. To claim you with his cum. You're so caught up in your own thoughts you don't even feel the way he puts your legs up on his shoulders, or his curls brushing against your face. It isn't until he finally sheathes himself into you that you snap out of it. You moan next to his ear when he bottoms out in you, the way your thighs burn feels so good.

"Your cunt's choking me, trying to milk me already baby? Don't worry I'll give you every last drop." Kyle lulls his head to the side as he begins lazily rocking into you.

You're almost folded in half from the way he has you under him, knees pushed back towards your shoulders. Kyle's got your hands still pinned by the side of your head; fingers intertwined with yours. Normally his eyes would flutter shut, he'd give into the sensation of his cock nudging into your walls, but this time he keeps them open. Like he is trying to memorize every time your lips form that cute little 'o' and a moan comes spilling out. The way your moans pitch up when he hits that delicious spot. The way you pant and beg for him to go faster.

That's when he shifts, the loving hold and lazy thrusts turn to fast paced fucking. Love making is always there, you never doubt that, but the way he's got his hands around your waist pulling you back onto his cock feels so raw. He slams into you with a newfound force neither of you knew he could muster. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, stars dancing across your vision. He rewards you with his own moans and grunts, the further his cock head pushes past your walls the faster he brings you to climax. Now that your hands are free from his strong grip, you place them on his forearm’s nails digging into his flesh. He hisses but it only seems to push him further.

"Come on baby. Cum around my cock. Yeah, just like that. Just like that!"

You arch your back and give him all you have. Your walls finally grip his cock as you reach your peak. Between your heart beating in your ears and the way he slams back into you, it's almost too much. Kyle finds a way to keep you on the line without pushing you too far. You feel the way his hips begin to stutter, and his moans become ragged. You know he's close.

"Yeah. Fuck you feel so good, I'm gonna- gotta fill you up. Take it!" He groans and then you feel his hot seed against your walls. Pushing up into your cunt, he plugs your hole with a final slam of his hips.

You and your husband lay there against one another, panting heavily until your breathing slows down to match one another. You can feel his lips pressed against your neck and his eyelashes tickle your skin. When you move your hands to his hair again, he knows you're okay, he presses a few short kisses onto your soft lips. Kyle feels you smile against his lips, and he doesn't even bother stopping the lazy one that comes across his.

"Never seen that side of you. I like it." You purr finally able to talk now that you've slowed down.

"Hm, keep that in mind when we do this again."

"Again?"

"Oh baby, we've got all day. It's Friday. I'm going to treat you to dinner like I promised. After that I'll take you upstairs and we're going to do this again. And again. Aaaaaand again. I'll keep my cock plugged in you like this and we'll go to sleep." His fingers push back into your hair, pushing it out of your sweaty face.

"J-Jesus Kyle." You shutter under his touch, unable to stop the way your walls flutter around him again. You can feel his cock bob in response, and when he slides his hardened member out slowly; you feel every little vein like he wants you to memorize it.

"Gotta make sure you're pregnant. My perfect, beautiful, wonderful wife deserves to be a mama. And what kind of husband would I be if I didn't give her exactly what she wants?" Kyle smirks down at you with newfound energy.

It was going to be a long morning, maybe you could convince him to let you finish making those pastries but you had a feeling that would be a battle. Especially since he's already started thrusting back into you. Maybe a few more rounds wouldn't hurt, you could always have him put the baked goods in the oven. After all he was doing so well already.

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bearhugsandshrugs · 6 months

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I am NOT the emperor anon but I think a mind control dubcon drabble with him would be unbelievably hot

okay. because it's you

The Emperor x F!Tav: A Dream Come True Read on AO3 E | Dubcon, DP in different holes, Deepthroating, Mind Control

Tav can tell that she's dreaming by the way the lighting is a little too soft, the room is a little too warm. Nothing in the Elfsong Tavern feels that comforting, not even her own bed. She’s sitting at a table, a drink in front of her, and when she glances over to her right, she is promptly greeted by The Emperor's face, his glowing eyes piercing her while she comes to.

"You've made good progress", he praises her, nodding. "But I question your loyalty."

She knows immediately what he's alluding to: Even though Raphael blocked him out while they negotiated the deal, all of her companions kept talking about it later on, revealing the devil’s involvement. Of course she hadn't signed anything yet, unwilling to commit to either manipulator at this point. Both The Emperor and Raphael seem to come with a price, and Tav is still figuring out which one she is ready to pay.

"You shouldn't worry", she insists. "I haven't made up my mind yet."

"That's exactly what bothers me", The Emperor quips back, eyes narrowing dangerously, "And I think a little demonstration is in order."

Her mind, unguarded and surprised, snaps like a thin branch when he enters it, submitting to his control. Her vision blurs around the edges before it fades away, and the next time she can see clearly, she is lying on the bed. Without her doing, she is on her back naked – and completely at his mercy.

The way his tentacles flow and curve at the sight of her body confuses her, it's alluring and repelling all at once, but she can't help but imagine how they'd feel on her skin.

Faintly wondering if these are even her own thoughts, she sighs when The Emperor crawls onto the bed, now naked too, and his body hovers above hers when he speaks.

"You'd be such a beautiful puppet", he murmurs, "But I prefer you willing."

Puppet? Willing? It isn’t clear what he means, but something tugs at her mind, urging her to consider. What exactly, she doesn’t know–

Another intrusion into her mind and her body reacts, heat pooling down between her legs. Tav instinctively tries closing her legs, but his long fingers grab her thighs, holding her in place until she stops resisting. Acutely aware that he’s spread her wide, a flash runs down to her clit, and she doesn’t need to touch herself to know that she’s wet already.

His hands feel cool, a reprieve from the way her body seems to be burning up, and his long claws cut sharply against her skin. Tav realizes in shame that she wants him to touch her, wants more of him, wants to leave, wants to end this, wants him inside of her, everything, nothing, everything, all at once.

Reading her thoughts like an interesting book, the mindflayer runs his hands up the insides of her thighs, and one tentacle tentatively begins stroking her cheek. It's soft and smooth on her face, the contact with her skin eliciting a soft moan from her.

There are no more considerations, no more concerns, no more hesitations for Tav as her mind breaks again and again to one desire, and one desire only: Him.

She turns her face slightly, her mouth seeking and finding the tentacle, and when she closes her lips around it and sucks, The Emperor lets out a deep groan. He tastes sweet, like a ripe plum's juice, and the texture of him is silky on her tongue. Surprised, she feels the end of his tentacle lubricate, a slick that reminds her of arousal, and she sighs around him as he starts pumping in and out of her mouth, the tentacle hardening with every thrust.

Another tentacle wraps around her throat while a pair of them find her breasts, teasing, licking, sucking – she hadn't even realized they could – and it's all so much the moans fly freely from her chest.

Where she tried closing her legs just moments before, they now fall open to the sides, an unspoken desire making itself known as she whimpers around the length of the tentacle that still pushes in and out of her mouth. He shudders in response, and his movements feel all the more urgent, all the more needy.

Tav seeks friction, seeks release, and she raises her hips upwards with greed as he ravishes her tits. His tentacles curl around her curves so tightly he binds them as if with rope, before releasing them again, the ends of his lengths finding her nipples in lavish and wet teases, the lubricant smearing all over her skin. It feels soothing, and hot, and cool; like lightning and rose petals, and it’s maddening, so maddening, she needs it, wants it, needs it–

Finally, one of his tentacles slithers down between her legs, lapping at her folds. The Emperor groans as he tastes her wetness, his deep voice vibrating inside her skull. His lust is palpable and all-consuming; a mirror of her own.

Desperate for more, her hands reach for him, but he pins her down with his own arms, holding her in place.

“Don’t”, his voice rings through her mind, a warning so gentle Tav’s heart begins to stutter.

“Please”, she thinks, and he allows it, but not her embrace, no, he allows for her to feel him inside of her as his tentacle pushes into her entrance.

Mewling, Tav can’t do anything but submit, this is it, this could be us, forever, something in her knows, and she’s tempted, so tempted…

The Emperor sinks the tentacles in her mouth down her relaxed throat, and the one in her cunt starts to harden, tighten as well, just like the one between her lips. Her breaths come in pants only, the little air she can get with him constricting her airways leaving her numb and dizzy, but it’s good, so good.

Every sensation on her feels like her deepest fantasies come true, her darkest desires fulfilled, as he sucks, and pinches, and pushes, and pounds; wet, and hard, and hot, and smooth on her, in her.

Nearly there, her mind is allowed as a final thought, and she submits, willingly this time, as his tentacles fuck her over the edge. Groaning with delight, The Emperor’s mind connects with hers, and he shudders in sync with her, sharing her orgasm, amplifying it, repeating it, over and over as she screams around his long, silky lengths.

Tav doesn’t know how any of it is possible, but the next moment she sits at a table, dressed and out of breath, and the mindflayer watches her with newfound interest.

“I found the demonstration quite… enjoyable”, he hums, and Tav blushes. “There are yet more ways I could… we could–”

“Thank you”, she interrupts him, desperate to wake up. “I think I’ve seen quite enough.”

#bg3 smut #my writing #the emperor #bg3 the emperor #the emperor x tav #this escalated but i don't mind #good morning everyone enjoy this piece of filth #monsterfuckers get your fill #anon asks

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neonovember · 3 months

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Never not feeling thirsty for Carmy. I am so excited for the new season I can’t WAIT. But low-key though? Never not thinking spicy thoughts about him, I wanna palm him through his jeans while kissing him and when he finally cums he moans all hot and needy into my mouth. I need to make him feel like a princess

omg omg omg, driving across country to try some enchilidas carmen is 98% sure wasn't a fever dream and you just reach over and sink your hands into his pants..make him swerve off the dirt road shoulder while your thumb circles his tip, already weeping for you. so slick and wet and ready for you, and with the way he just whimpers?

his tatted knuckles gripping the wheel so tight whilst you stroke him all soft and slow. "go-od, please baby" "need it so bad", grunting and hips canting up, humping himself into the coloumn of your wrist as you squirm in your seat.

going to stop the car off the side of the road when you grip his base but you urge him to keep driving, there isn't anyone for miles and you wanna see how long it takes before he's making a mess in his pants.

ty and good bye

tags <3 @hansfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @parmforcarm @nolita-fairytale

#carmen berzatto #neonovember #the bear discussion #the bear hulu #the bear #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto filth #my mind is a hellscape #thank you anon #sub carmen #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto drabble #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmy the bear #neo writes #carmy berzatto

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victoria-styles · 1 year

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I need more gut wrenching, toe curling smut that you know someone can damn near get off on

Well, get your vibrator/dildo out and your panties off. 😉 Enjoy!

You’re Just Someone I Want Around (SPECIFICALLY CHAPTER 9)

No Good For Me

Spoilin’ For a Fight

Mint Chocolate Chip

Young

Getaway Car

Ritual

Ruin You

#victoria styles #smut #harry styles #anon #harry styles smut #answered anon #mine #harry styles fic rec #fic rec #harry styles filth #gif #harry styles gif #send me anons #harry styles x reader

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becca-e-barnes · 2 years

Note

Okay… there is something VERY sexy about Bucky cuming in his pants 🤤

No bc there IS something very sexy about it and we all know I love writing this 🙈

Because honestly, I think sex could be a really overwhelming experience for him and I think he'd really want to take his time with it. That kind of physical and emotional vulnerability might not come to him so easily.

I really think the tiniest little things would short circuit his brain and it'd nearly just be another point of concern for him. He can't quite understand why the smell of your perfume makes his heart race, nor can he understand why his cock stirs just from feeling the heat of your body against his.

He knows he won't have much stamina, so to speak. He's dabbled a little in modern porn and he knows he's nothing like those men. He's acutely aware that he can, and has, spent hours jerking his throbbing length, covering his own strong thighs in an embarrassing amount of cum but all it takes is a chaste kiss on the cheek from you to have his dick desperate for more attention.

It's all quite overwhelming but he knows he's safe to feel overwhelmed and that makes such a difference. His comfort is always a priority but sometimes he pushes his body just a little further than he can handle.

Like the first time he's got you on top of him, frantically making out. You're wearing a tiny little pair of shorts and a thin t-shirt and he's desperate to explore now that he's got the chance.

"Baby, please. I need... Oh God, that's good." Words fail him when your lips latch onto his neck, your teeth grazing the exposed skin. The tip of your tongue is sinful, paying close attention to the hollow of his throat while you make the most of the free reign you're being given.

"Is this okay?" You ask softly between kisses, pressing your core against his body. There's a time and a place for you to worry about how incredibly wet you are but this isn't it. There's no room for you to be embarrassed by your need. Not when you're settling on top of a man who's evidently just as into this as you are.

"Yeah... Y-yeah, that's fine." The quiet squeak is just about all Bucky can manage, his hands settling on your hips. He's not moving them, he realises. He's not the one rocking you back and forth over his aching length. You are.

"Holy shit." He groans into the crook of your neck, eyes squeezed shut, pure bliss making every nerve ending tingle pleasantly. He's not even inside you. Lord knows he couldn't handle that but he can't understand how this feels as good as it does without any real replication of the wet heat of your body.

He thinks he's got it under control as he lets your body roll against him. He got enough self restraint. He can handle it. He's got it. Right up until oh no, he really hasn't.

"Babe, you have to s-" He begins but it's too late. Pleasure radiates from the base of his spine, cum splattering against the inside of his pyjama bottoms and all he can do is hold you close and whimper.

His length throbs with each wave of ecstasy and nothing in him wants to lose the heat and pressure of your clothed sex against his. He almost feels pathetic for cumming like this, with minimal stimulation but God, he needs it. When he finally has enough clarity of thought, he registers the feeling of your hands in his hair and his brain starts to process all the filthy little encouragements you've whispered in his ear as he came.

When he comes down, he knows he should probably feel embarrassed but instead, he feels safe. He feels cared for and in a strange way, he feels a little bit more whole, knowing he's finally letting himself be intimate with someone who wants the very best for him.

#asks answered <3 #anon #becca writes spice #Bucky Barnes smut #needy!bucky #Just a little touch of softness for your Sunday night #I don't like to just write pure filth ALL the time #and I'd really like to write about that comfortable vulnerability more because it can get overlooked sometimes #it's funny how the hobbies you love don't really leave you #I was listening to 25 by Alex Page #it came up on my Spotify Discover #and I can't stop thinking about how beautiful the second half could sound on the cello #I haven't touched my cello in years #but I'd love to get back into it

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harryistheonlyoneforme · 11 months

Note

I genuinely LIVE for your soft smit. Do you think you could possibly give us something where maybe Reader is stressed out or something and Harry just takes care of her? I love when he's all soft and mushy

masterlist | harry styles masterlist | requests are open

Kiss in the Kitchen like it’s a Dance Floor

Closing the front door behind him quietly, Harry takes his shoes off at the door before heading out in search for his wife. He already has an idea, though, because of the soft music coming from her cooking playlist and the fact that moment he stepped in the house he was met with a smell that was nothing short of delicious. So he quietly makes his way toward the kitchen, and the sight he’s met with makes his heart melt but at the same time he feels his cock hardening in his pants.

Seeing YN doing something so domestic is nothing new, but it never fails to make his mouth water or his mind go foggy as he watches her. From the pout of concentration on her lips to the sway of her hips, he doesn’t think he can keep to himself for much longer.

YN is simply in the kitchen, cooking stuffed chicken breast, something he’s sure is a surprise because on Fridays they usually get takeout. She knows it’s his favourite, though, and she just thought she’d do something nice since he’s been so busy lately.

He just continues to watch her in her element, a soft smile on his face and the ache of his cock a bit further back in his mind. The moment she finishes searing them she puts them in a baking dish, ready to put them into the oven. As she bends over, though, she feels a sharp slap against her left ass cheek and yelps as she nearly drops the food. She places the pan into the oven before turning around with a scowl and smacking Harry in the head with her oven mitt. “Fuck’s sake, Harry! You almost made me drop our dinner,” she grumbles, folding her arms over her chest and playfully glaring at a chortling Harry. He just gives her his signature dimpled grin before gently grabbing her waist and pulling her to him.

“m sorry, baby. You just look so good all concentrated that I couldn’t help it,” he teases, leaning down to peck her lips again. When she tries to pull away he pulls her tighter, deepening the kiss. They moan into each others’ mouths, and Harry lets out an actual whine when YN pulls away and turns back to the stove, ready to cook the vegetables for the meal. “I need to cook, babe. I actually want to eat at some point,” she responds, but he can still hear the teasing in her tone.

“Well how about this; you keep making what we’re gonna eat later, and I’ll work on what I’m going to eat before dinner,” he whispers against her ear then starting to kiss down her neck. He smirks against the skin of her neck when she starts to squirm and press her thighs together, her breathing picking up as well as her pulse.

“Harry, you always do this. Sometimes I just want to cook,” she replies breathlessly, a quiet moan leaving her lips as he begins to suck on the sensitive skin there. Harry just continues to smirk against her, rubbing up and down her hips with a hum.

“So if I stick my hand down your panties you won’t be soaked?” he asks, to which he shakes her head.

“Not even a little bit,” she says, a playful smile coming to her face as well.

“Let’s see then, hm?” he says, and he waits for her to nod before reaching into her shorts, where he finds that she’s not wearing panties. He slips a finger between her folds, her wetness helping him to move along. He gathers a bit on his fingers before using it as lubricant to rub at her swelling clit. Her knees nearly give out as she chokes on a moan and bucks her hips to his torch but he just wraps his other arm around her, keeping her in place.

He sets a steady pace instantly, pressing kisses to her bare shoulder as he works her clit with intent, each circle calculated and precise to push her toward her orgasm. Harry keeps this up for no more than two minutes or so before he feels her legs start to shake slightly and her hand flies up to grip his wrist as she begins to grind down onto his hand.

“That’s it, take what you need. You can cum whenever you have to,” he rasps, not changing anything about what he’s doing to her. “Let it out, you can cum for me. I’ve got you,” and that’s her unraveling. Her body goes completely rigid for a few moments but he knows better than to stop or slow down, and then she’s relaxing entirely and letting out a loud moan of pure pleasure as she rides out her orgasm against his hand.

“You did so well for me, bet that was a lot, huh?” he coos against her ear, rubbing her clit gently as she comes down from her high, bucking her hips against his hand in overstimulation. He moves away when she begins to squirm a bit from discomfort, slowly pulling his hand from her shorts.

She sighs happily, a dopey grin on her face and a glow like no other as she turns around to press a sweet kiss to his lips. “Can i cook now?” she asks him jokingly, and he just hums as he ignores the question. In response he just brings his hand up to her mouth, tapping at her chin for her to open before slipping his fingers inside. She immediately closes her mouth around them and moans at the taste. Harry can barely keep himself together as he feels her tongue move around his fingers, cleaning all of her orgasm off him. Pulling his fingers out, he smiles at her.

“Of course,” he responds to her earlier question before stepping back and leaning against the kitchen island on his elbows. “Don’t mind me.”

YN is confused because she surely thought this was going to go further. But she shrugs and turns back to the vegetables while the potatoes are boiling. The second she puts the asparagus in the oil she feels her hips pulled back and her shorts pulled down. She gasps in shock and looks back to see Harry dropping to his knees. Before she can get a word in, though, she feels him spread her open and swipes his tongue all the way from her clit to her opening. The moan she provides him with is full of surprise as she slams her hand down onto the counter, gripping it tightly.

Her other hand goes back to grip Harry’s hair, her hips bucking against his tongue. He groans against her at the feeling of her hand tangled in his hair, the delicious burn only making him need her even more than he already does. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, he pulls her closer to his face while simultaneously pushing his face closer where he can feel her throbbing against his tongue.

He’s lapping eagerly at her, suckling on her clit for a few moments before slipping his tongue inside her throbbing hole. YN can only moan and begin to clench around his tongue when the tip of it just slightly grazes her g-spot. Her knees are about to give out but he doesn’t let her fall, gripping her tighter to his face. Her moans get louder and he knows she’s close again , so he groans into her once more, the vibrations sending her catapulting to the edge but she’s not there yet. He takes a hand and rubs her clit quickly, pulling away for just a moment to give her some encouragement.

“Let go, honey. Cum on my tongue, you can do it,” he encourages, his other hand going to rub at her belly because he knows that more than one orgasm can make or break his wife.

She only shakes her head, trying to squirm away from the pleasure. It feels too good, so good she feels like she can handle it. YN starts to feel tears build in her eyes from the intensity as the ball in her belly only seems to get heavier with each circle of her clit. “Too sensitive,” she whines, slamming her fist down onto the counter again as her entire body begins to feel hot. He’s relentless, though, rubbing even faster at her sensitive nub, holding her even tighter.

“I know, honey. But you can take it. It’s alright, just cum for me. Let it go, you know you can take it,”

She just lies her head down on the cool counter and lets her body begin to surrender to the pleasure. He doesn’t let, going back in and putting his mouth on her again. Her eyes roll back and her whole body locks up, her orgasm washing over her intensely. A broken sob leaves her, and she’s left unable to think as her vision goes black, her mind blank.

The orgasm starts at the tip of her toes, traveling all the way through her body and the tension finally releases out of her, covering his mouth and chin in her cum. Their connection is so intense that just the sound and feeling of her falling apart causes him to cum as well, the warmth spurting out of his throbbing cock, untouched. His hips buck against the back of her leg, and he groans out, still licking her gently to work her through her orgasm. Once they are both back down, he stands up and turns the stove and oven off, not wanting the food to burn. He guides her to the bathroom, cleaning them both up before putting more pajamas on her before placing her in bed, gently pecking her lips.

When she’s all tucked in and comfortable Harry runs downstairs to clean up the kitchen and plates their meals, grabbing some drinks and heading up the stairs.

While he was downstairs, she turned on their current television fixation, ‘Criminal Minds’ and waited for him to come back up. She melts when she realizes he brought their food up, thanking him quietly, and when he slides into bed next to her she kisses him deeply.

“You’re always so good to me. Thank you, baby,” she whispers, running her fingers through his damp curls. He nuzzles into her hand with a hum of contentment before he responds.

“No, thank you. Thank you for always being there for me and just for being everything I could ever ask for. I look forward to spending the rest of our lives together,” he responds, thumbing away some of her tears with a dimpled grin. “Okay, okay. Enough tears, let’s get some food in you before y’get too sleepy,” he chuckles before picking up her plate and passing it to her.

Once they’re finished eating, they take their dishes downstairs, vowing to do them in the morning. They spend the rest of the night cuddling until they fall asleep.

837 notes · View notes

temptress-writes · 1 year

Text

⚓️ The Endeavour

A/N: Piraterry. Nasty as hell smut. He's after some booty. He gets it and then some.

C.W: coarse language, drinking, violence, beardrrY

Sexual Content Warnings: -virgin mc -breath play. whoops. like big whoops. -blood kink -pain kink -squirting (always only the best for the gals) -beard kink (I just wanna leave it wet) -cock warming kinda (mentioned) -somnophilia (not really but a body is explored while said body is unconscious nothing explicit but wanted to list it anyway)

This smut is feral. So have fun!

Word count: 15.8k. A light meal from mama.

***

The Caribbean Sea.

1723.

The hull groaned under the shattering weight of the fierce waves, her bow slicing through swell after powerful swell.

With the tip of his hat, a burst of pride erupted in his chest at her sheer fight and force. He kept her in top shape, knowing a single slip-up would end with him and her in a sandy, unforgiving grave.

He yelled a bursting abundance of encouragement and order to his crew, who through their own sheer will and determination, held their own against the torrid waves.

They had been on the open ocean for weeks. Skewering the waves for ripples in its currents, showing the way to riches. Nothing but a captain's sheer dream to follow a path many believed to be purely fiction, rumour, and nightmare.

There were tales of an untouched island, long since forgotten by many. Except for him. The hidden place had been a bedtime story for him, his fallen mother lulling him to sleep with talk of a luscious cove, twinkling with gold and jewels, protected by sea creatures so fearsome that no one lived to warn others. Only tales made shores carried by whispering swells.

She had gone so far as to paint it for him one night, his tiny child mind so enthralled by a land he could only place as his own heaven.

Crystal clear water, a wide cove that delved into the land with hidden secrets that if reached, guaranteed the succeeder a lifetimes worth of riches.

He kept the painting. Folded it up tight and stored it in his locket, right next to his heart. It hung from the chain his father had left him, the only reminder he had of his parents before they fell ill when he was barely a teen.

With nothing but the clothes on his back and the memory of his loved ones, he had to build a life for himself. He mainly started out as a ship repairer's assistant. Holding out tools and swiped coins of gold when his boss wasn’t looking. He paid him a piece a week and it had made for some painfully hungry nights. So he’d turned to sly swiping where he could, purely to survive.

Every night, he dreamt of that cove. Of its glistening, gentle waves. Of the sea creatures that guarded the hidden heaven. Ones that he would slay with all his might, so that he may bask in the treasures they fought to covert.

An oasis he now attempted to charter.

“What do you think?” He asked his Quartermaster as he headed below deck to his quarters, his mate beside him. They entered the office, heading to the map laid out on the table, weight down by compasses and clutter.

“I think you’re on a fool’s errand, captain.” As he’d been saying for weeks.

“There will be many riches at the end of this voyage, Brigg. I promise you. It will be well worth it.”

“Say we get there, Harry,” Brigg reasoned, his hands on his hips, “what of the beasts they say that roam the waters?”

Sharks with rows and rows of vicious teeth, fearless krakens that ate ships like his for sport. Sirens lured sailors to the depths where they would toy with them before eating them limb by limb. And then there was the landscape to attest for. Jagged rocks and shallow waters that dismembered hulls like a bird's wing through the wind.

Harry himself had no clue how they’d navigate such a tight cove with as many dangers as the lore spoke of. But he was a determined man, and it had yet to steer him and his crew wrong.

He adjusted his weapon belt across his hips, his sword sitting strong in its scabbard. He’d yet to unsheathe it on this journey but had no doubt he’d have to ensure its sharpness for what was ahead.

“We’ll continue to train, Brigg. We have strong soldiers on board with us. We shall find nothing but glory.”

“If we even find the cove.”

Harry shot him an unamused look, “Adjust us to the west. The waves are mighty today, we cannot afford to be off course.”

“Yes, captain.”

Brigg left him, and he allowed a moment to feel exhausted. He threw his hat on the desk, grabbed a bottle of rum, and took a much-needed swig, not caring that it spilled past his lips and down the front of his shirt.

He stripped his frock coat from his body and sagged into his chair, staring at the map, a tiny circle in red showing where they were headed. He adjusted the wooden ship pawn an inch closer to its target.

It wasn’t even on maps long since drawn by cartographers at every corner of the earth. He’d seen it all, seen too much to be riddled by what-ifs and myths. He’d seen wonderous things on his travels, and his hope would not be dwindled by another man’s doubts.

But old stories spoke of a small island, far too small for anyone to see. Tucked away in the Caribbean Sea, warded off by treacherous swells and ravenous creatures. All guarded treasures far too priceless for any man to get their hands on.

For weeks they’d charted choppy waters, their food supply strong, freshwater abundant no thanks to the severe rains.

He felt strongly about this endeavour. Among the hundreds of treasure hunts he’d been on, this was one he felt most strongly about.

He had told no one about this trip aside from his crew. He had become a well-known pirate in England. Notorious and feared. He garnered such a reputation by playing dirty, and he gained many enemies while doing so. The last thing he needed was a rival on his tail.

His life was on the high seas, his lover his compass.

While he wasn’t opposed to bedding some maiden at whatever tavern he stumbled into once they’d ported, they were fleeting moments. He was always on his ship. The Siren. For she always called to him, longing for the dangerous adventure of the ocean.

He nestled into his bunk, knowing that not much would happen overnight. They’d port at Barbados come sunrise, halting their journey only for supplies and to stretch their legs.

He dreamt of the cove, as he always did. But this time was different. It was clearer, a soft ringing in his ears as he was drawn closer to the shore.

The dock at Barbados was rumbling with life. Much more than he’d ever seen it. It was rich with trade, with merchants from every corner of the earth gathering to sell their goods at high prices.

Harry scored some fresh fruits he could not get back in England, chewing happily as he and Brigg wandered the streets. He eyed many of the local women, winking and asking their names, wondering if they had room for him in their beds tonight.

They’d giggle, sensing his reputation as rocky as the shores before them. He had no trouble finding someone to have fun with but loved to scope out his options.

Pineapple juice dripped down his chin, the Caribbean sun blistering and unwavering. Heating him with a fire that drove his need for adventure and discovery. The sun, he thought, was another treasure. The land he came from rarely was blessed with its presence.

They passed more vendors, selling weapons and gear and ammo, maps, and repairs for ships. It had been years since he’d seen this island, it was good to see it doing so well.

An older man stood by his store. A small, quant swordsmith with an abundance of glittering weapons. Harry veered closer, intrigued. Something about his weathered expression drove his curiosity wild. He only saw such an expression in wary seamen.

“Good day, traveller.” The swordsmith’s heavy accent sounded as he sharpened a blade on a block.

“Sir,” Harry nodded. “Are you well?”

The man smiled wryly. “I will be should you give me some coin.”

“You seem well-travelled. Tell me what you know of this island.” Harry produced his map, pointing to the circle drawn in the middle of dangerous waters.

The swordsmith sagged, rubbing his aged forehead. “You will not survive it, boy.”

“So you have been there.” It was real. The sense of relief he felt at that moment was unlike any other sensation. He had been drawn to these tides by a tale. This was the first sense of reality he’d felt.

The man looked away, picking up his tools as if wanting to move on from the conversation. Harry smiled, throwing down a couple of gold coins on the workbench. The man scooped them up, counting, deliberating.

“In all my years, I have never chartered such a sea. Whatever is out there, tis real.”

“What is out there?” He threw down more coins.

“Danger. Fearsome creatures, both terrifying and beautiful. Shows you whatever you desire most and dangles it in front of you until they have you in your grasp.”

“What about the island?”

The man laughed. “Fool. I did not reach the island. I turned up on the shores here with no memory, no ship, no crew. Everything gone. Tis a curse, boy. Nothing more. Beware.”

It did little to sway his curiosity. His draw to this island was nothing to afraid of. Not a curse or a fool’s errand. It was his calling.

“Thank you, sir. Your candour is appreciated.” It would also be ignored, but he chose to withhold that fact. He slid the man more gold, purchasing a small dagger fashioned with pearls in its hilt. They glowed in the sun, and he added it to his scabbard with pride.

His hat shielded him from the torturous sun as he found his way back to The Siren, missing her familiarity. How she was every part of him, just as his bones were. His crew was washing up, sweeping the decks, and righting the gunports.

The main mast groaned as a gust blew through it, the small swells of water lapping at the hull, hungry for more. He checked in with his crew, ensuring everybody was rested and ready for the journey ahead.

“We set sail at midday. Not a minute later.” He eyed them all, pacing ahead of them as they stood in line listening to orders. “We should reach the island by nightfall. The sea ahead is dangerous, but I trust you all to get us there. Whatever we find will be ours to share.”

“Aye, Captain!”

“What if there is no gold?” One of the deckhands questioned. He was one of Harry’s newer men and had less experience on the seas than any of them. Hell. He still got nauseous when sailing, and still got on Harry’s nerves.

“When have I steered us wrong?” Harry glanced at him. “We have followed maps into the most far reaches of the sea, and have been rewarded each time for our bravery. This shall be no different.”

“Aye, Captain.” The deckhand muttered, adjusting his hat on his head.

“Prepare for sail.” Harry shouted, sauntering into his quarters to watch over the map. Brigg ensured everyone was doing their jobs, barking out orders to keep everyone in check.

Harry stared at the map for a time, feeling outside of his own mind. The wind seemed to howl, melting into a high-pitched tone that had him wincing before he blinked, back in his own boots once more.

“Keep her steady!” He yelled from the deck, his feet anchored to the barrier, his hands burning from their grip on the ropes. Sea water lashed at him, threatening to take him down to its luring depths.

The currents were strong here, his crew struggling to keep them on course. The sails whipped in the vicious winds, snapping and threatening to tether.

He had never seen anything like it. Otherworldly anger unleashed within the waves and wind, pummelling his ship with no mercy. His crew was struggling, he could sense it. See that they were unable to ride the movements of the ship, being thrown around every which way.

“Get the sail down!” He yelled out, helping at the masts. They had to coast while the wind was at its strongest. Ride it out until they could figure out their course. As it stood, he hadn’t a clue where they were.

The ocean had never been so angry. Perhaps that old swordsmith had been right. This was a curse. A festering evil. His mind flashed to creatures that could be lurking beneath his ship. A fearsome Kraken waiting to take them down and feast on their flesh while the wood and steel of The Siren rotted at the bottom of the depths.

This was a fight he could not win.

A strong wave swept over the ship, filling the deck with water, and sweeping every man off their feet. He clung onto the rope for dear life, chilled to his bones as the wind whipped at his body.

“We have to go back, Captain!” Brigg yelled over the thunder, a flash of lightning soon following it to ignite his scorned expression.

“We cannot yield!” He fought. They’d worked too hard to turn back now. Turning the ship may seal their fate.

“Cap—”

A swell whirled over the boat, this one higher than any of the ones before, sweeping Harry from his perch overseeing the deck, ready to swallow him into the currents. He clung onto the rope, his grip slipping as his calloused hand failed to comply, frozen and aching.

His hold on the rope slipped, and his stomach dropped as he began falling to the angry depths metres below him. He was being smashed against the hull, knocked back and forth like a rag doll. Held victim to the harsh elements. He yelled out, not ready to abandon his crew. His ship.

He was going to drown.

Flashes in the sky accompanied an eerie ringing, high in pitch and deafening.

And then a hand shot out, taking his as his final grip loosened. He was hauled overboard again, flopping into the saturated deck before he was out cold.

His ears were ringing. A build-up of fatigue and trauma, seared his brain as he blinked in surprise at the scene around him. He could hear Brigg calling his name, and see his crew helping each other up and tending to the wounded. After a quick head count, he knew he’d lost men.

He gathered himself, feeling the oak beneath his back was still wet. But the overpowering anger of the ocean was no more, and he listened to the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull.

His body thrummed in pain but he ignored it. He would take care of himself later. There was no time to waste when the elements weren’t lashing at them.

His chest burned at the realisation, and he stood with a groan, finding Brigg rushing to his side. It was not uncommon in this life, and it was something he dealt with every time they left the shallow shores.

“How many?” He rasped. “How many did we lose?”

“Five.”

He grimaced, still out of it, his body bruised and weathered.

“You were out for no longer than ten minutes, Captain. The storm has subsided, and quickly so. Never seen anything like it in all my years at sea.”

“The calm will not last, however, we must take advantage of it.” He strolled into the cabin, finding the map, grateful that the ocean had not destroyed it. “How far off course are we?”

“I can’t work it out. The storm derailed us completely.”

“Tis a good thing we overshot after we set sail. Recourse us west.”

“Are you sure, Captain?”

“I am. We’re close, I can feel it.”

Harry made the rounds, checking on his crew, and offering condolences even while his own heart felt too heavy for his body to carry. Everyone was exhausted. Tired. But he promised them that the reward was near.

He stood at the helm, the wheel gripped firmly in his ringed hands. The water was black, even the dim candle lighting doing nothing to illuminate it. But there was a tether inside of him, guiding him towards that cove from his dreams. He would slaughter every creature that stood in his way. Fight every rogue wave that threatened to drown him.

The Siren groaned, and he frowned, leaning forward to scope out the environment around them.

The world was dark. An onyx abyss that had the hair on the back of his neck standing up. His gaze scoured his surroundings, seeing nothing but pitch black. Everything went still, eerily still.

Harry loosed a breath, leaving his post at the helm and going to the side. Amongst the nothingness, there was a large mass, not two miles ahead of them. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing, or how he was seeing it.

But all he knew was that it was an uninhabited piece of land, surrounded by a thick disturbance, something he could not place. Could not see or smell. But he could feel it.

“Lower the anchor.” He spoke into the air, his crew not hearing him. “Lower the anchor!”

They complied quickly, working together to drop the anchor. The Siren came to a slow stop, and Brigg approached him with a raised brow.

“What is it?”

“There,” he breathed, “do you see it?”

Brigg allowed his gaze to follow Harry’s extended arm, the pointed hand. He looked beyond it, squinting.

“See what, lad?”

“The island.”

“There is no island, Captain. Just water as far as the eye can see.”

Harry shot him a look. “Tis your old eyesight failing you, Brigg. Prepare a boat.”

“It is not safe—”

“Prepare a boat.” He bit out. “This is where we need to be.”

Brigg appeared skeptical, but it was not his place to question his Captain. It was nobody’s place. A few men prepared the pinnace, lowering it down onto the gentle waves. Harry prepared himself with a heavier coat, his favourite sword, and his compass.

His whole life had been a build-up to this moment. From the bedtime stories from his dear mother to finding his feet as his own explorer. It had all been for this. For this off-the-map cove that he wasn’t even sure was real.

“I will scout first, and be back by daylight.”

“Please… be careful.”

“I shall return with good news, Brigg. I can feel it in my bones.”

Using the ladder draped down the hull, Harry lowered down into the boat, Brigg leaning down to pass him a lit lantern. He shot down the offer to have a few of his deckhands with him. This part he had to do alone.

The tiny boat bobbed on the waves, and he glanced out at the mass of land again, sensing that pulsing once more. His ears rang with the promise of fulfillment. He began rowing.

He rowed until he was halfway between The Siren and the island, and his heart began drumming uneasily against his ribcage. He could taste the sheer gratification and accomplishment.

He kept watch for the lurking creatures he had been warned about time and time again. For the dreaded sharks and Krakens, the predators swarming below them, waiting. But they didn’t show.

The ringing appeared in his ears again, shrill and stark. He winced, shooting a hand up to cradle his head.

The peal became higher. Louder. So intense that he feared for the integrity of his hearing. He stood and looked around frantically, hoping to see some source that would explain such a protruding sound.

And then it softened completely, a quiet humming next to the boat that halted his search. He crouched, leaning over the side staring at his reflection on the glass-like veneer.

A disruptive ripple broke the surface of the water, illuminated by the radiant lantern.

A girl.

She was otherworldly beautiful. And she was humming, a lulling melody that had his spine melting into goo. She smiled up at him, looking through her lashes as she bit her lip. Her eyes were so dark as if mimicking the lapping waves, though glowing once he raised the lantern further towards her.

He opened his mouth to ask why she was there. How she was so far out from the shore and in such gloomy water. But his words bubbled in his throat, dissolving before they could reach his lips. As if she’d taken them.

She was just… watching him. Her dark hair slicked back away from her face, glistening with beauty. Her chocolate skin imitated the tone of his rum and his brain went foggy as she rose a few inches, and it was then that he saw that she was naked.

“Who are you?” He managed out, his voice not his own.

She only smiled at him again, humming that addictive tune before her hand shot up, her slender fingers gripping the side of the boat, right next to his jewelled hand.

He was so mesmerised he didn’t have it in him to be scared.

“Are you lost, sailor?” Her voice was silky. Liquid pearls trapped in clouds.

He felt his body fall lax as she stared at him, her lips plump as the words left them.

Lost. A sensation he had felt many times before. And of course, he felt it these past few weeks in the search for this island. Now as he looked away from the girl and towards the island, had disappeared.

He grew startled, his mind kicking back into gear. The island. The hope he felt. The magic cove from his dreams, the one he kept in his locket next to his heart. Gone. A hazy mirage that dissipated when he hadn’t been looking.

His mouth grew dry, “I could have sworn—”

“Shh.” Her cold, wet hand clasped his where it rested on the rim of the boat. “I can help you.”

He was locked in her trance again, paralysed by her. His worry was still stagnant in his brain but his body would not cooperate, still and at her will.

“I do not—”

“Come closer.” Her soft cadence took his breath away.

He found his body betraying him, leaning forward until the boat was almost tipping over. She smiled, her teeth gleaming. Her smile snapped something in him, a longing that was all too familiar to him. The yearning that centred around the painting in his locket. The draw to it was the same as it was to her.

She began humming, louder, completely entrancing him. His brain felt numb, every thought dispersing aside from her. Like his essence was honing in on hers. He was under her spell. His sole purpose for being here suddenly didn’t matter anymore.

And that sense of loss and aimlessness was the last thing he remembered before he was submerged completely.

The sensation of it was too many things at once. A festering fear that soothing hands calmed as he sank down into the murky depths. His passion and drive and reasoning for being on the open seas reduced to nothing. Reduced to droplets blinked from stormy brown eyes.

There had been things for him to fear here. He’d heard the myths. But nothing frightened him more than the beauty of her.

He was sure that he was dreaming, but his lungs were burning, filling with salty water as he tried to scream. But there was no one to save him. Just the sounds of his own muted cries and that all too-familiar melody. It became his new actuality.

Sinking to a euphony that made him feel eerily at peace.

A phantom hand explored the expanse of his chest, feather-light and timid. It touched his arms, his face, trailing his features. Exploring and mapping.

His senses came back to him slowly, and he heard the ocean. Soft swells kissed the shore, and his hand curled into the sand beneath him. He felt that hand venture south and he coughed, his lungs burned as water bubbled up his throat and out of his mouth.

He heard a voice, a small soothing ooh that could only be placed as sympathy. He opened his eyes, wincing as he took in the bright scene before him.

The sun was blinding, offensively so, and he shut his eyes for a moment more so that he could adjust. His head throbbed, the source of a sharp pain in his left temple.

Upon opening them, he turned his head, facing the coast. The water was a bright cerulean, invitingly pristine. No signs of his ship or his crew. What had happened? His vision was hazy, a blur of visions that he couldn’t determine were real or made up. He scarcely remembered leaving the dock at Barbados. Just little blips in time but some seemed fake.

That ghost touch graced his chest again, brushing his wet lips. His gaze turned towards the feeling and a violent gasp left him as he jolted away from the source.

A girl.

What was familiar to him was her striking beauty. Big brown eyes, deep golden skin with a halo of lush curls surrounding her head. She was dressed in white, scraps of flowy material that were bound together with beads and pearls.

Her brows pulled in, and her hand reached out toward him. “It’s okay. You are safe here with me.”

“W—What happened?” He panted, stilling at the feel of his saturated clothes. His scabbard was gone, as was his hat and coat. Only his pants, shirt, and boots remained.

“I found you here.” She said gently.

He tried to stand, disoriented. He fell to the ground, his arms too weak to lift himself up.

“Please, take care—”

“I remember you.” He rasped. “I… I saw you. I—I saw you in the water.”

She reached for him, taking his hand. “You are confused. I believed your ship was wrecked.”

“N—No, I saw you—”

“We must get off the beach.”

“Where am I?”

She didn’t answer him, and her hold on his hand tightened. He suddenly felt willing. Like his body had been given a boost of strength for him to stand. He watched her, allured by her perfection, her attire. Who was she? Why was she so familiar?

His mind flashed to black water before she pulled away, her eyes pulling him in before she backed up toward the island ahead.

It was small, either side of the beach framed with jagged rocks and tall cliffs. The island itself as heavy with thick vegetation. He had no clue where he was geologically. With his memory as spotty as it was, his ship could have wrecked miles off course and left him stranded here.

“Where is my ship?”

There were no remnants of The Siren on the shore. No debris or… any sign of life for that matter. It was a chilling feeling, especially seeing as whoever this girl was wasn’t giving any answers.

She led him towards a large tree just on the edge of the shore, a tall, overhanging tree that offered sanctum from the sunshine.

“What is this island?” He called after her. “Where are all the people?”

“There are no people here.”

He stopped, watching as she sat on a giant leaf and tended to a collection of fish laid out on a rock. They were fresh, and he spied her spear leaning against the tree.

“You are here alone?”

“Sit,” she nodded to a twin leaf next to hers. “And eat. You must be famished.”

He was, but the overall confusion and fear made him nauseous. “No, thank you.”

Her eyes became stormy, just as they had in his mind. He found himself sitting, taking a leaf full of fresh fish from her outstretched hand. He feasted, not realising quite how ravenous he was.

“Can I trouble you for a boat?” He needed to get off this island. Figure out where his ship and crew were.

“There are no boats here.”

Her words made his chest sink, and more questions followed that he opened his mouth to ask, but she interrupted him.

“Where were you headed, sailor?”

Her wording worried him. Where were you heading? Like she saw his being on this island as some kind of seal doom.

“I had just left Barbados.” If she wasn’t going to answer his questions, like hell he was going to answer hers. “I do not remember much following that.”

She adjusted her position, the slit of her skirt allowing his eyes to wander the expanse of her thigh.

“It has been some time since I have seen a man.”

“Is that so?” And that explained the wandering hands he felt as he awoke.

“Many years. You are very different from the ones I have seen.” She brushed her curls from her face, her skin glowing from the sun, crushed pearls glittering her features.

“Do you rescue sailors often?”

“No, never.”

He could not place her accent. Her cadence. Dreamy and soft-spoken. Nothing like the locals of the surrounding islands. No, this he could not put a finger on. She ventured a few metres into the tree line, finding a spring of fresh water which he gulped down.

He had allowed himself to scope out the area whilst she was gone. Aside from the fish and spear, there were no other signs of life on this beach. Was she from deeper inland? Did she come here by boat?

The sunset kissed the horizon, bleeding orange hues into his vision as he tried to gather his bearings.

It was as if she could read his thoughts, sense his panic and his queries.

“You must rest, sailor.” She whispered, that lulling voice swirling through his mind. He fell asleep on the beach, exhausted, perhaps even concussed from the injury on his temple that he did not know how he received.

He woke up hours later, disorientated and lost. He felt for a moment that he was on his ship, tucked away in his cabin next to the fireplace, a goblet of rum nestled comfortably in his hand.

But his new reality set in with the harsh bed of sand against his back and the dim light of the moon offering little comfort. He jolted upright, feeling more himself than he was earlier. Had hours passed? Or days? His body was groggy and his throat was parched.

And then he’d remembered those slender hands feeding him fresh fish, offering him crisp water from the spring in the trees somewhere. The girl. Golden and mysterious.

His eyes strained to see her, but she was not where he had last seen her, and it had his back straight immediately. Had she left him? Had she been a mere dream his jumbled brain had offered up in order to keep him sane?

The throbbing in his head had dulled some, and he reached up to massage the ache only to find it damp with some form of thick paste lobbed into the wound, which felt pretty much healed.

His memory was failing him, letting him down as he raked his thoughts for any sense of clarity but there was none. He wasn’t sure what was real. Couldn’t even remember his name.

He felt his locket around his neck, his sole truth, and fumbled to open it. He withdrew the small painting and even under the moonlight, he knew the strokes by heart. He put it back for safekeeping. His soul soared with a sense of something he couldn’t make out before his eyes flittered to the sea.

It was glittering in the effulgence, seeming to call him as that humming carried itself in the wind. He felt her before he saw her, the soft breeze carrying her presence to him.

She waded in the water, her hands splayed out as she toyed with swells between her fingers. She was just as real as he remembered, and yet, he wondered if she would disperse into the water and become one with it.

He stood, his boots filled with sand, but his clothes were dry now. He watched her, slowly walk towards the edge of the water, his gaze not once leaving her. He walked into the water, keeping his movements light so as not to startle her.

And as he got closer to her, he realised that she was naked. Her hair was wet and draped down her back, her skin a golden ray of moonlight that he wanted to laze in.

She gasped, turning to face him. Her breasts were covered by her wet curls but it didn’t matter to him. He struggled to move his eyes from the view.

“Who are you?” He asked over the rolling waves.

Her eyes were bottomless. “You should be resting.”

“Answer my damn question.”

“You do not need to know who I am, sailor.”

Her eyes became black bottomless pits that had him reeling backward in fear. Every question and ounce of confusion was gone as pure terror took over. She was otherworldly in her beauty, yes. But she had something dark and sinister wading beneath her skin.

He became overwhelmingly lethargic, his body controlled by something alien. And he felt the black hole invade his memory again as she slinked into the water before he saw nothing at all.

Many nights passed. He wasn’t sure how many, and had no sense of self or time. She fished early in the morning and allowed him to eat as much as he wanted before he was resting again. His body seemed too tired and he felt as though he was chasing his own tail trying to feel some sort of energy.

She was always dressed in those soft white linens, or shreds of them, bound together with shells, pearls, and beads.

And every night, he woke, watching her splash and play in the water. Naked and free, unaware of the fact that he was watching her. He didn’t dare approach her again, too fearful that she would control his mind and take it as her own.

She was not of this earth, he realised. Too perfect and too far from his grasp to understand. He enjoyed watching her, though. Enjoyed watching her lay out in the sun and play with her curls.

He bathed in the sea, fully unclothed, and ended up ditching his flimsy shirt once he realised it was only added to the heat his body was enduring. His tattoos were stark against his skin, now golden from his days in the sun.

Sometimes she would leave the beach. She’d venture up the coast, scaling dangerous rock formations. He would always try to follow her but he would lose sight of her, trying to keep up with her agile pace but he was simply not equipped for such a trek.

He always wondered where she went, but by the time she returned, he had grown too tired to ask.

He was caged in, their little beach framed with rock and backed with dense jungle. He tried to venture into the thick vegetation but found himself thrown off by how endless and dangerous it looked.

He was beginning to question if he had any semblance of sanity in the first place. What was true? What was his foggy imagination? He did not know.

The moon was especially large tonight, sat high in the sky, a brilliant silver that glazed over the locket at his chest. His eyes closed, prepared to fall asleep like he did every night.

He often wondered why he felt okay with this. His ship was out there somewhere, maybe even intact. His crew who relied on him… he struggled to even think about it. How had he ended up here? Alone? He had not gone so far from the ship.

His thoughts haunted him, taunting him with hidden memories, slips of water, and storms. But he could only remember that vendor in Barbados and then… waking up on this beach. And her. Her eyes and her beauty. But it was hazy. Like trying to recall a dream.

The moonlight danced behind his eyelids, the waves that kissed the shore somehow calming despite the peril he felt in his chest.

That all too familiar phantom touch laced the bare skin of his chest, and his eyes snapped open. The girl was leaning over him, her eyes burning with curiosity. He sat up abruptly, but she stayed close to him, their faces mere inches apart.

His hand grabbed hers from where it had fallen into her lap. He placed it back on his chest, his eyes on hers as she explored his body, his skin warm beneath her palm. His heart was racing so fast and she smiled as if she could feel it.

Her touch melted south, brushing his lower abdomen. He sucked in a breath and her eyes softened.

“Do you like this?” She asked him, her other hand joining in mapping out his body.

“Yes.” He whispered, wanting to reach out and touch her. But his hands remained put. He knew that the ball was in her court, and she’d reprimand him if he tried to take control.

“Swim with me.”

He was in a trance as she stood, helping him up. She shed her tiny layers of clothing as they walked towards the sea, and his gaze washed over her naked body in a daze. She met his eyes as if knowing he was watching and enjoyed the attention.

After removing all of his own clothing, he tried to ignore the fact that she was staring at all of him. Intently. As if to remember his body later. And then, so quietly, she waded into the water until it was lapping at her waist and stared up at the moon.

He paddled out to meet her, in awe of her confidence as she floated on her back. The moonlight illuminated her body, the water slipping over her physique. He’d never been so envious of a body of water.

He wanted to be the one to lick and explore her coasts. Wrap his currents around her until she was fully in his control. She straightened as he came to her, her hands landing on his shoulders.

“Am I dreaming?” He breathed out as she wrapped herself around him.

“Yes,” she crooned, her lips brushing his ear. “You are dreaming, sailor.”

He released a shaky breath when her lips met his, her lips encasing his upper one while his hands found her hips. He released a groan, kissing her with such intensity that it scared him. He had no clue who he was even kissing but it simply felt right.

His body was responding in such a way that made him feel almost embarrassed. She pulled away, her expression confused.

And then his eyes snapped open, a deep breath ripping from his lungs. He wasn’t in the water with her.

But his body was wet as if he had been. His memory was missing a piece between her lips and finding himself back here. A blank space in the puzzle of his mind.

What had happened? Was it a dream? Or did she state that it was so that she could toy with his mind?

The sun was out, igniting the sea in dazzling diamonds that danced on the ripples.

By the crispness in the air and the remnants of fog, he guessed it was early morning. He sat up, searching for her.

She was carrying a woven net full of fresh fish. He frowned. Her spear was at the base of the tree, where it always was. And he realised he hadn’t once seen her use it, and the fish she’d caught never had any wounds to them.

With a sly smile, she nodded her head in greeting, starting to prepare the fish with efficiency and ease. He ate with her, wondering how to bring up their kiss last night. How he’d seemed to startle her with his arousal. He wanted to apologise. He also wanted another taste.

But as always when it came to her, his words were stunted. Lodged in his throat and dying abruptly in a burst bubble. She stood, her hips swaying as she moved before taking a seat beside him.

“When will you tell me who you are?”

“It is the same with all of you men,” she mused, running a hand through his hair. He moaned lightly at the attention, his scalp prickling with delight. “So many questions.”

“Sailors are curious by nature.”

“So I gathered.”

“You, however, are very evasive.”

“You are alone on an island with a pretty girl, what more do you need to know?” Her eyes twinkled at her tease, the sun breaking through the leaves above them and dancing across the planes of her face.

“Very pretty.” He smiled. But I need to know more. A lot more.”

The integrity of his ship and crew plagued him, but she simply smiled, her hand caressing his cheek. His beard was a contrast to his soft features, and her eyes travelled them, taking him in.

“Curiosity is dangerous here.”

“And where, exactly, is here?” He pushed.

But her lips brushed his and his memory faded, his eyes opening only to find the sky dark and the stars abundant in the sky. He blinked, confused. Only a second had passed between then and now and yet… the day was gone. And so was she.

He sat up in a rush, his body feeling alien to him. His eyes scanned the beach, searching for her. And she was there, exiting the water, the sea washing off her shores, down her bare skin, and back to the sand.

But he laid back down, not wanting her to know that he was awake. Whatever she was doing, she was in full control of him and he wanted some semblance of self. To see why she was playing all of these mind tricks on him.

She wandered towards the treeline, a way down from him, and her eyes never found him as he pretended to sleep. Like she was sure he was still sleeping soundly like she always planned.

But he was fully aware of himself now and knew he needed to act. He would find out where he was. If she wasn’t going to give him the answers he sought, then he would find them himself.

He kept his movements quiet, leaving their little respite on the beach and following her. She wasn’t hard to keep track of, following a worn-down path that she knew well. The moonlight lit the way, but he kept to the shadows so as not to raise attention to himself.

She trailed him along for ages. His boots caught on twigs and uneven forest floor but he was determined. And after a while, she slowed, gazing up at the moon before she broke into what looked like a clearing.

He waited for a while, not wanting to get caught before he sauntered forward towards the clearing. Only, it wasn’t was he was expecting. The must have been following the near coast, because he could hear small waves lapping against the rock, and he could smell the intense seawater and feel the pull of it.

It was the cove.

The one from the stories his mother would tell him when he was younger. The one in his locket, right next to his heart.

His chest felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending in his body wired with excitement and disbelief.

The cove was every bit beautiful as he’d imagined it. And then some. Bright blue water was ignited by the moonlight. It seemed to hone in on the rock pool that spilled out into the sea. There was no evidence of gold or loot, but the treasure was not that. It was the discovery itself.

Shipwrecks were abundant in the jagged rock formations, the water shallow and glorious. How they hadn’t seen their doom before them, he did not know. Almost like they’d intended to ram right through the island as if it was never there.

The rocks hugged the frame of the cove, the water heaving with wildlife he had never seen before.

And sat upon a rock, was the girl. But he was taken aback, blinking as if he were seeing things through untrue eyes. But she was there, her breasts bare to the ocean while her bottom half was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

A tail.

A milky blue that accentuated the hue of her golden skin, scales so pearlescent it put every diamond to shame. It fanned out at the bottom, much like fish, indented rays that bled into a deeper blue, melting into the tone of the sea.

He began breathing erratically. This was another one of her mind tricks. Or maybe he was going crazy.

Her hands ran through her hair and she began singing that tune again, the melody echoing off the cove and making him stumble.

A rock loosened beneath his boot and her attention snapped up, a short shocked gasp leaving her lips as her eyes met his. She stared for a moment, and for the first time, he saw something in her that he had never seen before. Fear.

“No,” he rasped, shaking his head. “Wait!” He wound down into the cove, as she shifted off the rock, splashing into the water before swimming away. He sprinted into the tide after her, but she was long gone.

He collapsed against the rock that she had previously been perched upon. Her secrecy and her midnight swims. She had been coming here all along, hidden from him. And he had scared her away.

But he wasn’t giving up on her. He would stay put at this cove from his dreams until she returned, if at all. He would never find his own way back to the main beach.

He waited for her for hours. Until his eyes drooped, the moon mimicking as it gave way to the burning sun on the horizon.

It was as it lit the water in dazzling displays of crystallised blue that he awoke, sensing a disturbance on the surface.

He stood, stumbling and wary. He saw her dark hair break the surface of the pool before her dark eyes found his. She didn’t exit the water any further, and he saw the alarm in her gaze towards him.

“I will not hurt you,” he rose his hands, his tone pleading. “You… You surprised me is all.”

She didn’t move an inch. Hoping that in the hours following their run in that, he would have returned to the beach. But he had waited for her.

“I have searched for this island for years. I only wished to see it. No harm will come to you.”

She rose slowly, the water exposing her shoulders. He tried to keep calm, both questioning his sanity and reality itself. She was as fluid as the ocean around her, like two souls entwined.

“Many try to find this island.” She spoke lowly. “All of them mean harm, and do not leave here alive.”

He heard the threat loud and clear, but the softness in her eyes that he’d been seeing for days was no figment of his imagination.

“But you have not killed me.”

“Yet.” She bit out.

“Was it you?” He was shaking, trying to navigate the situation in which it left him alive. “Who called me here?”

“Perhaps you are hearing things only you can hear, sailor.” Her smile was wry and calculated. A feigned innocence she’d do well to mask better.

“Perhaps. Yet here I am. And you have not killed me.”

“Maybe you are already dead. You sealed your fate by coming here.”

The fog behind her wilted away, allowing his eyes to view hundreds of wrecked ships that lined the shallow shores. He wondered if one was his beloved Siren.

“My mother spoke of this place when I was a boy.”

Her mouth curved and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

“Did she now?”

He frowned, scrambling for the locket clasped around his neck but all he felt was his own damp skin. A phantom sensation of weighted silver whispered against it. His heart dropped to his feet, a wet, bloody puddle that she could sense.

“I… I dreamt of it.”

“You dreamt of me, too.”

He blinked, in a complete daze. His sense of reality was fleeting, melting away with every swell of the sea that kissed his toes.

“That song that you hum. What is it?”

The melody rang out from the waves, and his mind lulled completely.

“Do you like it, sailor?”

“I find it soothing.”

He was trying to soothe her. Let her know that he meant to harm, that his curiosity would not endanger her. No matter how many questions he had and how confused he was. He would only face what was in front of him.

The water around her pulsed as her humming continued, melting in his ears like a gooey potion.

He felt his body being beckoned to the waves, crystal clear and serine. His feet moved before his brain did, carrying him into the current where she waited. He met her there, where her arms wrapped around his neck and she took them further into deeper water.

As if sensing his onslaught of sudden panic, she hushed him, her hand cupping his cheek.

“Trust me.” She whispered. He could feel her… her tail wrap around his legs, fluttering against him. He had been internalising whether what he saw was true or not but now he knew his eyes had not deceived him.

Her breasts pressed flush against him, her hardened nipples brought heat to his cheeks. His arousal was apparent to her and a sly smile crept across her rosy lips in an effort to quell her own feelings.

“Does it not frighten you?”

“What?”

“Me. Like this.” She murmured.

“No. I was… confused at first. But you are beautiful. I have always thought so.”

Never mind the fact that he’d been dreaming of touching her this way for days, the lower half of her was little to deter him. He knew she had a human form of sorts. The fact that she trusted him as her truest self spoke volumes.

She pressed against him further. Until he moaned and his head dropped back on his neck. His expression was one of soft bliss that she wasn’t sure how to decipher.

“I have never touched a man before. Not like this.”

Her words were spoken against the skin of his neck. Wispy and honest. As much truth as he’d ever received from her.

His eyes met hers when she pulled away. Quietly, he asked, “Would you like to?”

“I don’t know how.”

His hands melted down her bare sides, meeting cold scales at her hips. “I can show you.”

“Please.” It was the softest he’d ever seen her. He took one of her delicate hands in his, guiding it down between them. Between his legs, where he was hard and pulsing, and yet, she’d done nothing. But her simple existence was enough to drive him wild.

She gasped as he encouraged her to grip him properly, and she did so gingerly, simply feeling him and exploring him. Far more intensely than she’d done when he was on the beach unconscious.

“That feels nice.” He encouraged.

“This is what you like?” She stared up at him with big brown eyes, and his resolve became a fine glass desperately close to shattering.

“This, and much more.”

“I would like to do that.”

“I would, too.” His hands found her hips again, her smooth stomach, and her gorgeous tits. Gently squeezing and touching.

She was putty in his hands as they wandered and ventured her body. Her scales were sharp and he winced as he sliced his fingertip on one of them.

He lifted his hand from the water, crimson slipping down his hand. He frowned at the wound, his eyes finding hers as her hand grabbed his, bringing his finger to her lips to leave a kiss on it. Her lips were stained red, and the touch of her lips sealed the wound, healing it right before his eyes.

“How many tricks do you possess, siren?”

“More than you will ever know, sailor.”

“Show me your favourite one.”

Her legs appeared, the scales seeming to shed from her skin and slink away into the current around them. He gripped her thighs, lifting her up and encouraging her to wrap them around his waist.

He moaned at the connection before her lips found his, soft and calm as the waves that lapped against the walls of the cove. The familiarity was welcome to him. He’d had her like this before. On the beach nights ago, before his memory became hazy and he awoke on the beach a start.

He guided the kiss, sensing her hesitation and fear. But he held her tight, kissing her softly yet tenderly, allowing her to follow his lead. She did so well, just as lost in him as he was her.

Her lips were soft, plump, and tasted of the sea. He wondered what her shores would taste like, lapping waves and unpredictable currents. An aromatic bliss he longed for.

He ground his clothed cock against her bare core, moaning against her mouth without shame. As if knowing his apparent enjoyment would make her far less apprehensive. He carried her from the waves, laying her flat on the damp sand before leaning over her.

“Your beauty is beyond anything I have ever seen.” He murmured, cupping her cheek and allowing his thumb to brush over her lips. She flicked her tongue out with a small smile before he pushed his digit past them. His brows turned in as she sucked on it.

Her hand reached between them, squeezing his cock with far more confidence than moments ago. He encouraged her higher to pay attention to the sensitive head of his dick, and she was rewarded with a breathless moan that escaped from his soft lips.

“What does it feel like?” She wondered aloud. “To be touched in such a way.”

“It feels… warm. Explosive and tight and blissful.”

Her eyes lulled at the description, and she could no longer ignore the primitive pulse between her legs that she’d never felt before.

“Make me feel it.” She whimpered. The neediness in her tone was all he needed to hear for him to snap.

He crushed his lips against hers, allowing his tongue to meet hers, messy and wet and obscene. The noises they were both making were even more so, and it took all of his willpower to not finish in her hand. He grabbed her wrist, pinning it to the sand by her head.

“I will be gentle.” He spoke against her temple. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“How will it hurt?” She had to ask, wanting him to be as feral and true as he could, whatever it entailed. All she knew was that he felt so fucking good and she wasn’t sure how it could get better or what would even ensue.

“This ends with my cock inside of you, pretty girl. You’ll be tight but I will make sure you’re ready for it. It will not hurt. Not with me.”

She gripped his shoulders in awe, not quite understanding what he meant but her body was flooded with a rush of arousal that he saw darken her eyes. He kissed her again, his hands exploring her chest, toying and squeezing until she was a writhing mess.

He adored her body. Cherished it with lush kisses and his beautiful hands, kissing her tits and her stomach and neck. Alternating where his touch was so no inch of her felt left out. His teeth nipped at her hips and she unintentionally rutted them up towards the touch.

He smiled against her, licking a bold stripe along her abdomen with a hum. His lips went south, and her eyes widened in shock.

“It’s okay, precious. It will feel so good.”

His hands gently coerced her legs to open so he could settle between them. He didn’t dare look anywhere aside from her face as his hands squeezed her delicious thighs, spreading up over her stomach again before veering back down.

And then his eyes settled between her legs and he let out a raspy moan.

“So pretty here, too.” He complimented and a flash of heat warmed her body. “Have you ever played with her?” He asked, his thumb coming to gently sweep over a particularly sensitive spot that made her gasp. “Like this?”

“N—No.”

“No?” He tutted. “That’s a shame, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know how.” She eyed him, crazed for his touch already, her legs shaking.

“I can show you.” He hummed, brushing his thumb over her clit to entice a small whimper from her. “Would you like that? For me to play with her? Make you feel things you’ve never felt before?”

“Please.”

“I like that.” He smiled, using a finger to gather her wetness, going back to her clit to rub small circles. “Say it again.”

“Please…” She whispered. “Please.”

“So polite, pretty girl. Begging me to touch this gorgeous cunt.” He applied more pressure, rewarded with a loud moan from her parted lips. “Oh, you poor thing. You’ve never been touched like this, have you? You’re dripping onto my hand.”

“More,” She gasped out. “please, give me more.”

“I will. Be patient. Need you to be as wet as possible, I don’t want to hurt you.”

She made a high-pitched noise at his words, how gentle and caring and dirty he was. This world he knew so much about, and yet she’d only dipped a toe in.

His fingers worked her slowly, dipping back to her gooey centre to spread her growing wetness to her clit, drawing soft circles as she grew accustomed to having someone touch her this way. She was so wet and creamy that it had his eyes blurry.

“Is that nice?” His voice was dreamy as he watched her shake.

“Very.” She sighed.

“I have barely started.” He smirked at her and she threw her head back as he quickened both his pace and his pressure.

“What more will you do?”

He kissed her thighs, so close to where he wanted to taste. Fuck, she was so sensitive. Her thighs twitched and threatened to clamp around his head were it not for him holding them in place.

“I like that I am the only one who has touched you here. You will only know pleasure to come from me. You have no idea how hard that gets me.”

“Let me feel you again.”

“Not yet, pretty. Be patient, remember?”

“Please—”

He growled, coming up to face her, his forehead pressed against hers as he clenched his teeth. “You touch me, and this will be over before we can get to the best part. Do you understand?”

She fucking melted beneath him, submitting to him, her eyes wide and watering as she stared up at him. She nodded meekly, his hand still at work between her legs.

“That’s a good girl.”

He resumed his former position, nestled between her legs. The sight of her was staggering. If he was homesick before, he wasn’t now.

“Fuck, sweetness. I have to taste you.”

She frowned, snapping her gaze to him. “Taste me? Wh—” She cried out at the feel of his facial hair against her core before his wet tongue came to greet her. She sobbed out in relief at the contact, shaking against him as he gently flicked his tongue on her.

He moaned obscenely loud as he took a full lick of her, gathering her sweet taste on his tongue, and swallowing with a low hum. He sucked firmly on her clit, swirling the tip of his tongue until she was shaking so hard that he had to hold her down.

Her hands reached out, searching for something to hold onto, feeling out of her depth and overwhelmed while he ate her. He grabbed both of her hands with one of his, placing them in his hair.

She gripped his long curls, anchoring herself to him.

He pulled away momentarily to rasp out, “Pull my hair.” Before resuming. She listened, fisting and pulling at his locks as she got fucking ruined.

A warmth built up in her stomach and she felt her body tingle. He pulled back, wiping his face on his anchor tattoo before his eyes met hers.

“I’m going to use my hands now, pretty. Stretch you a little, make sure you can take me.”

She only nodded, unable to breathe, and not sure what he meant. But with how good he was making her feel, she was happy to ride the wave of him.

He circled her clit again, always paying attention to it, while his other fingers ran up her centre, watching her drip for him. He slowly, so so slowly, circled her entrance with a lone finger, pushing in.

She gasped, her spine straightening.

“Shh, pretty girl. Relax for me.”

She tried but felt so tightly wound from his touch that as he gave her his finger, she could have exploded. It didn’t hurt, per se, but there was some form of a foreign sensation there.

“Is that okay?” He checked in. She nodded and hummed, jaw dropping when he withdrew his finger just to pump it in again. “And this? Is this okay?”

He watched her expression, a cocky and all too knowing grin gracing his face. “Oh, you like that, don’t you? Feels nice in your tight little cunt.”

His mouth was filthy, only adding to her heaping arousal. She was so over her own head and any and every thought revolved around him and what he was doing to her body.

He returned his mouth to her clit, sucking, flicking, biting. Obsessed with how she felt and tasted. Her reactions were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Pure bliss gracing angelic features, moans, and hums sounding from her throat, sounding much like that tune that was often carried in the wind when she was near.

Adding another finger once she was saturated, he fucked her with them. Slow yet deep, scissoring them to get her used to the stretch. He knew she’d struggle to take him, but the way she was writhing for him made him think she’d be delirious once she’d gotten used to his cock.

“That’s it,” he spoke against her. “My pretty girl is so wet. Do you like my fingers? Hm?” She nodded, feeling insane. “You do, yeah.” He drawled. “Wait until you get my cock, pretty girl. You’ll be fucking dripping.”

She moaned loudly, so loud that it echoed off of the cliffs encasing them. He took her harder, biting her clit harshly. She felt as if she were about to unravel, a completely unnerving sensation as she melted into his touch more and more.

He worked her harder and faster, the muscles in his arms flexed as if sculpted and molded from marble. The sight alone had her struggling to take a breath in. She watched him command her body in a way that she didn’t know was possible, his mouth paying full attention to her clit whilst his fingers destroyed her from the inside out.

Her body thrummed as if coming to life. Burning hot, with searing blood in the currents of her veins. She tightened up, tensing, her body on the verge of something she didn’t know how to gauge.

“What’s happening—”

“Shh, pretty girl, it’s okay. This is what your body wants, let it happen.”

She cried out sharply, her voice a chorus of golden bells that made his ears ring with desire. She exploded around his fingers, into his mouth, all over his chest. He moaned along with her, equally as turned on.

He came over to her, kissing up her body on the way. “How did that feel?”

“Incredible,” she gasped, “I’ve never… felt that before.”

No words had ever been sweeter to him. He kissed her, allowing her to taste her orgasm on his lips and tongue. She hummed, allowing her leg to hitch up onto his hip, drawing him closer.

He rutted his cock against her, her wetness seeping through the thin material of his drawers.

“Can I touch you now?”

He sighed against her mouth. “Yes, pretty girl.”

She mewled, reaching down to cup him. He moaned, kneeling to remove his drawers. She couldn’t hide her reaction to the sheer beauty of him. She’d never seen a man like this before and didn’t even know such a sight was possible. His body was toned, tight, with broad shoulders and a nipped-in waist.

His tattoos were forms of art, decorating his beautiful body. From the ferns on his hips to that fucking tailed woman on his arm. He was truly faced with his fate.

She traced a shaking hand along his defined stomach, his abs trembling beneath her touch. He allowed her to touch him, enjoying the feel of her delicate hands on him.

“That’s it, sweetness. Take your time.” His voice was so deep she felt it in her clit. She hummed out a soft noise.

“How do you like to be touched, sailor?”

He dropped his head back on his neck with a moan before focusing back on her, her eyes alive with intrigue and a little bit of fear.

“Like this,” He guided her hand to his bare cock, and she gasped at how hard and scorching hot he was.

“It’s… you’re so big.”

“You can handle it, sweetness.”

He pulsed in her palm as he showed her how to touch him, moving her hand back and forth. He allowed a string of saliva to fall downwards onto his length.

The added moisture made him whine, thrusting his hips into her hand.

“What else?”

“Here.” He grabbed her spare hand, taking it to his balls, and showing her how to touch them. He whimpered as she massaged them, gauging his reaction as to how hard to do so.

He cursed loudly as she sped up her hand, bowing over her to kiss her deeply, messy and needy. His tongue met hers in a frenzy.

“Use your mouth, sweetness. Need to feel you gag around me.”

“H—How?”

She had heard of no such thing, but how he had used his mouth on her, she knew it had been nothing short of magical.

He helped her stand, taking her over to the flattened rock where she had been resting before. “On your back.” He ordered, his voice low and rumbling with demand.

She did as she was told, happy to let him guide her. She was soon on her back, the rock smooth and familiar to her. One she’d spent hours on, basking in the sun, memorising tunes, and counting the pretty shells she’d scored from blue depths.

He groaned at the sight; her hair fanned out around her, her cheeks flushed from her orgasm, and her legs pressed together to curb her arousal for him. He walked around until he was looking down at her face.

Taking a solid step forward, he cupped her throat, the mermaid flexing against his skin. Muscles rippling beneath its inked scales.

And then the siren before him, mystical and eerie. Dangerous and yet… she was here on her back for him, waiting for his next command.

“Grab it.” He ordered, stepping closer. Her hand wrapped around his cock, expertly massaging and touching. His jaw dropped as she smiled, obsessed with how he felt.

“Does every man look like this?”

“No one is this lucky.” He smirked. She giggled at his jest, his confidence unmatched. “Open your mouth, siren. Let me see where I’m going to fuck you.”

She made a small sound, almost like a helpless animal, and dropped her jaw.

“Obedient little thing. Stick out your tongue.” She obeyed. “Yeah, that’s it. There we go.”

He moved forward until his cock, still held in her hand, was in her face. She eyed it, intimidated and lost.

“Lick it.” He said softly.

“Where?”

He guided his tip towards her, “Right there.”

She gave him a single, small lick. Timid and shy. But the fucking noise he made had her legs trembling with desire.

“Take your time.” He spoke gently as her mouth explored him, getting used to his sheer size, memorising each vein. Licking his entirety with pleased little hums.

“Wrap your lips around it—fuck, just like that.”

She took his head past her lips and his whole body trembled. He pushed her hair from her face, not wanting anything to obstruct his view.

He encouraged her hand to play with what she couldn’t yet fit in her mouth.

He cupped her cheek, holding her still. “I’m going make you take it, okay? Tap my leg if you need a breath.”

She nodded.

“Use your words.”

“Okay. Yes.”

He held onto the sides of her neck, slowly working his cock deep into her mouth, further and further until he could feel her throat constrict around him. She gagged at the assault and he pulled back.

“Is that—”

“Don’t stop.” She rasped and he groaned at how eager she was.

He fucked her throat, slow and steady even though his whole body was trembling. “Oh, you like this, don’t you?”

She whined around his length, her eyes watering, streams falling down her temples. But she didn’t want to stop. She wanted him to feel the pleasure that he made her feel. She was ravenous for it, to hear his blissed-out noises and see what happened when he met his end. Would it be like hers? Stronger? Wetter?

“Fuck,” He whined as she let him take full control and use her throat. To think she had never experienced anything remotely close to this, and here she was, being so good for him and so open and willing. Maybe he really was dreaming.

Her hands reached out, one bracing on his muscled thigh, right over the inked tiger. The other went to his balls, heavy and warm in her palm as she played with them just as he showed her.

“That’s so good, little girl.”

She gagged at the praise, stumbling before her jaw clamped, her teeth nipping around his shaft. He hissed, pulling back.

She gasped, “I’m sorry. I hurt you, I—”

“No, pretty girl. Don’t be sorry.” He cupped her cheek, kissing her swollen lips, licking away salty tears. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to be gentle with me. Do it again.”

“But—”

He gripped her neck. Not tight, but enough to show her who was in charge. The sun burnt through the fog, igniting their display in honey gold and diluted berry. He kissed her. Too far gone.

“Bite me. Hit me. Do whatever you want to me.”

Her eyes darkened, the calmness leaving her face. There was nothing but pure danger there now. As turned on as he was, he felt fearful at the expression. She pushed him back, too hard, and he stumbled onto his back, flopping onto the sand. Helpless before she straddled him, kissing him hard enough to take his breath away.

She bit his lip, soft at first, but then he let out a sharp yelp when she bit down with force enough to make him bleed. He growled, feeling the warm rush of it seep down his chin. She lapped it up, mewling and grinding her wet cunt against his stomach.

“You are fucking insane.” He gaped, his shock melting into laughter when she smiled manically at him, blood dripping from her mouth.

She allowed his blood to trickle back into his face as she leaned over him.

“What was it you said, sailor? Do whatever I want to you?”

“Anything you want.” He affirmed as soft waves lapped at the back of his head.

The curve of her lips tilted up, her hand coming up to lovingly cup his cheek. So gentle and tender. His heart careened in his chest before her hand abruptly flew up to his forehead, pushing it down until his head was submerged in the salty waves.

He gasped on instinct, the water invading his lungs with a sharp burn. His hands clawed at her wrist but the currents were her home. She held the power here.

Anything you want.

She allowed him to breathe, gasping and blubbering. He glared at her, his chest heaving.

“You little—”

She tilted her head, that fucking tune melting in his ears. Her other hand reached back, gripping his cock in a tight fist. He moaned loudly, whatever insult was lost in the ocean at his back.

“You like that, don’t you?” She threw his words back at him and he whimpered, nodding. His lip stung, the salt water invading the hurt.

“Yes.”

“Mmm.” She hummed before pushing his head back under the waves. Her hand fucked his throbbing dick with such a might he feared he was going to finish all over himself. His chest burned with the lack of air, but he welcomed the panic, and allowed it to fuel how fucking good she felt.

She let him catch his breath, feeling kind as she quickened the pace of her hand, paying extra attention to just the tip of him with the pad of her thumb.

“Fucking filthy g—”

And he was under again, his head submerged while he writhed underneath her. He could feel how insanely wet she was, near on dripping onto his skin, and his hips ground up into her hand, unashamed.

She moved to his side, letting him breathe before her mouth was on his dick again, licking and biting and sucking. Not letting his balls feel left out, even biting harshly into his hips until he was bleeding there, too.

He was dunked under the water for longer and longer each time, the fear making his body shake, self-preservation kicking in while his orgasm loomed right behind it.

She pulled away from his length, moving to straddle his chest, her hands encasing his neck.

“You liked that? The burning in your chest?”

God, if she drowned him he’d probably come at the same time. He groaned at the prospect.

“Let me taste her again.” He gripped her hips, trying to move her up. “Take a seat.” He gestured to his face. “Right here.”

She could feel her body thrum with need all over again, dripping down her thighs at the pleasure she’d been able to give him. She moved up, getting comfortable as she sat on his face. She whimpered at the feel of his facial hair, his beard thick against her.

His tongue flicked out, teasing and slow before she fully collapsed down onto him, giving him no choice but to completely devour her. The water encased him again, and he tasted her and the waves together.

She let him breathe every now and again, but he didn’t stop eating her. He’d been starving for a taste this euphoric all of his life and he was getting fucking drunk off of it.

Her second orgasm was far more intense than the first. Maybe it was because she knew not to be afraid of it. Maybe it was because the man giving it to her was fighting to breathe while he took care of her.

It was a burst of white light that brought shame to the sunrise around them. She cried and sobbed and whined, shaking, falling forward at the intensity of her pleasure. It was so wet. A stream of liquid erupted from her core, drenching him. He drank it, his beard saturated in her orgasm.

It flipped something inside of him. Some feral, animalistic need. He grabbed her, placing her on her back, the shore lapping at her body before his tongue went to join it.

He kissed her, tasting himself, her, the sea, and his blood between them.

“I want it inside,” she whispered as she gripped his aching cock. “Just like you said.”

“Let me calm down, I don’t want to hurt you.” He muttered, kissing her again, messily whilst his hips rutted up into her hand.

“I want it to hurt.” Her eyes were full of desire.

His head fell into her neck, “Shh.”

“Please… please, I need to feel it.”

“Stop talking. You have to s—stop talking.”

“I need it inside—”

“Shut up.” He growled, taking her hand away from him and pinning it next to her head. “Shut up, pretty girl, please.”

His hand ventured south between her folds, feeling how wet she was before he gave her two fingers, hooking them up against a spot that had her spine turning into jelly.

“You have to be ready.”

“Please, I’m wet. I’m wet. Just give it to me. Stretch me. I don’t care if it hurts.”

Her jaw dropped as he moved his fingers faster. “One more time. One more time and I’ll give you my cock.” He clenched his teeth as he worked harder. “I’m so big, sweetness, drench me again so I’ll fit.”

She cried out, gripping his wrists with both of her hands. She thrashed beneath him as he fucking annihilated her.

“Good girl.” He praised her as she exploded around his fingers. “Do as you’re told, there we go.”

She sobbed, struggling to take in oxygen as she writhed in pleasure. He muttered soft praise and words of encouragement, telling her how pretty she was, how ethereal, how good she felt milking his fingers.

“I can’t wait to feel you do that around my cock, pretty. Want you to cream all over me until I say you’ve had enough.”

“Please give it to me now.” She begged, near tears.

“Yeah, beg for my cock, precious girl.”

“I didn’t know I could feel like this. I need it, please. Please let me have it.”

“Oh, look at you. Cock drunk before you’ve even taken it.”

“Please.”

“Are you wet enough?” He mused, his fingers still exploring, knowing very well how much she was dripping. “Do you think you can take this big cock? Hm?”

“I promise.”

“You promise? You’re such a sweet girl for me.” He kissed her, lifting her legs up to hug around his waist. “I’ll go slow, okay? You don’t have to do a single thing. Just lay back and take it.”

“Okay, sailor.”

He groaned at the nickname, reaching between them to hold his cock, running it against her centre to gather her dripping wetness, moaning at the feel of it. He watched her face as he gently pressed in, swallowing her gasp as she gripped his shoulders.

Yes, she was obscenely wet, but the sting was still there. Sharp yet thrilling. And he had barely done a thing. He pushed in further, angling one of her legs up higher so she was able to take it easier. He was about halfway in now, his head foggy at how tight she was.

She hissed. “Oww.”

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, I know it hurts. You’re doing so well. Good girl. You’re so tight, so fucking wet.”

He didn’t move his hips, didn’t give her any more of his length until she was ready. Mewling and whining for more.

“You’re too big.” Fuck the way she was looking at him was driving him crazy. Awe and fear at the same time.

“You can handle it, precious. You promised.”

“I promised.” She nodded, her face out of it, brows turned up and her jaw dropped.

“That’s right. I’m going to feed you my cock until you can take it all. I know it’s big but you can do it.”

She whined, wiggling beneath him in discomfort as he gave her a little more. He was finally able to press fully inside of her, moaning as her walls rippled around him.

“How does it feel?” He asked her, his chest heaving.

“Full. Complete. It’s starting to hurt less.”

“Fuck, that’s… good. That’s so good.”

“Can you please move? Just a little bit?”

“Y—Yeah, I can move.”

He retracted all the way until only his tip was nestled inside of her before slowly rolling his hips forward. They moaned in unison, and her nails clawed at his skin.

“Faster.”

“Faster? You like when it hurts?”

She clenched her teeth together as he pumped into her. “Yes. Oh, right there.”

“What a good girl. Taking my dick even though it hurts. Are you going to cry?”

“More, please.” She begged, enjoying the dulling pain. The bite of it lessened, his eyes as deep as her ocean she frequented. They sparkled, alight in the sun as it beamed on them.

Tears of pleasure and pain fell from her brown eyes as he took her harder, screwing into her with sheer power, though his pace was still controlled.

“Fuck. This pussy isn’t used to being used like this, hm? Clenching around me like you won’t let me go. I’ll stay inside you for as long as you want, pretty girl. This is my cunt now.”

She moaned loudly, throwing her head back, the waves lapping at her hair. The way in which he spoke was driving her wild. His body was ensuring insane euphoria, and his words only added to it. Clearly well-versed in how to please a woman and it made her seethe at the idea of him with anyone else.

“Stop squeezing me like that, you’ll make me come.”

“I can’t help it.” She whimpered.

His expression softened. “Aw, does my cock just feel too good? Are you going to get wet on it? Yeah? Want to feel you explode on me. Give it to me.”

“I can’t yet.” She was too overwhelmed, still trying to get accustomed to the feel of him.

“Oh, you can’t? Is that what you think?” He stared down at her, his hips snapping fiercely against her. “Think again.” And his hand reached down, rubbing sweet circles on her clit. She cried out, her nails ripping into his skin so deep that she drew a worrying amount of blood.

“That’s what I want. Make me bleed while you cream all over me. Fucking crazy little girl.”

She stared up at him, her eyes swarming with terror. He was taking her mind and body to places she didn’t understand. Using words she didn’t know how to grasp. But she felt like she was on fire. His cock was so deep and so big while his hand played that sensitive area just above where they were connected.

“You’re about to… God, I can feel it.” He spat out, his eyes squinting. “So fucking tight around me.” She was so wet, too. The sounds that came from between them were making his ears ring.

“Please don’t stop.” She begged. “I want it again, so so bad.”

“You want me to make it hurt again?”

“Please!”

“Nasty fucking—” He grunted, his arm straightening as he leaned over her, fucking her harder until she was crying out in pain. But she liked it. Liked the sharpness of it. How he was massaging a special spot inside of her that was making her feel lightheaded.

His hand stayed playing with her clit, and he spat down onto his fingers to get her even wetter. The dirty sight had her screaming, exploding messily around his cock that he had to fight to stay embedded inside of her.

“That’s my girl. Precious little thing. You’re addicted to this, aren’t you? Can’t stop fucking coming.”

She nodded, feeling crazed out of her mind. He pulled away from her, flipping her onto the rock, bending her over the smooth obsidian. He spread her legs, tucking his throbbing cock back into her snug walls.

“Mmm. So fucking wet, gushing on my dick like a whore. You were made to take me.”

She clawed at the rock, begging for mercy. His hips hit her ass at every powerful thrust, his hands digging into her sides so hard she knew that it would bruise. The idea of having any sort of physical reminder from this interaction had her shaking.

“Harder, sailor.”

His hand grabbed her hair in a fist, pulling her up until her back was pressed to his chest.

“Captain.” He spat out. “You’ll refer to me as captain.”

“Yes, captain.” She rasped.

“Good girl.” He praised, biting into her shoulder. “Say it again.”

“Take me harder, captain. Make me cry.”

He moaned, fucking her hard and fast, her ass reddening from the force of his drive. The pain was almost overwhelming, her body wanting to satiate the pain but wanting to take him even more.

He could feel her body becoming lax as his cock massaged that spot inside of her, the hurt of his size waning as she completely melted around him. A wet, hot furnace welded together just for him.

Her skin almost glowed gold, and it was then that he realised that she had been the treasure all along.

He moaned softly, his body coming to cocoon hers against the rock. His pace slowed down, deliberate and delicate. She gasped at the roll of his cock inside her, how much more intimate it felt now that he was holding her.

“Pretty girl,” His lips found a sweet spot right below her ear. “So glad I found you.”

She stifled a whimper as he took her, whispering little sentiments in her ear that made her legs tremble. How he’d spent all of his life searching for something, riding vicious tides and sailing dangerous winds. He’d found gold, priceless treasures, and uncharted waters.

But nothing could have prepared him for how fulfilled he felt at this moment. Wrapped up in a beautiful body that no one had the privilege to map out and explore.

Wanting to see her face, to see those deep eyes and plump lips, he placed her on her back. His touch was so gentle that it didn’t feel real. Like he was a phantom of dreams he’d yet to have.

He stepped forward between her spread legs, always his good girl. Her hand wrapped around his cock, which was saturated in her orgasms, and guided him back to her wet haven. He moaned loudly as her walls squeezed around him, delighted to have him within her body once more.

She whined loudly, “Don’t ever stop.”

“I won’t, precious girl.”

She was near tears as he began to slowly fuck into her, his chest pressed tightly against hers.

“Do you promise?”

“Until my last breath.”

She threw her head back, and he took the opportunity to suck and nibble and kiss the skin, a soft sheen of sweat on his tastebuds as his cock throbbed inside of her.

God, she felt insane. Like her body had been immersed in a potion specifically aimed to make him crazy. He stopped fucking her, taking her in with his lust-speckled eyes. Her hips began moving at their own accord, screwing into him mindlessly, searching for release again.

He growled, holding his hands behind his head. His muscles flexed at the action, inked skin rippling.

“Is this what you wanted when you found me washed up on the beach? To fuck yourself on my big cock?”

“I don’t know, captain.” She cried. “I saw you and just knew I had to save you.”

“Thank you, pretty girl. Thank you for saving me.” He leaned down, fingers splayed across her jaw as he kissed her messily.

She made a restless noise. “Take me again.”

“How do you want it?” He asked against her lips.

“Fast.”

“Anything else?”

“I like when you touch me.”

“You like it when I touch your pretty little clit?”

“Please touch it.”

“I will, I’ll never leave her out. I’ll rub your clit while my cock destroys you until you’re gushing all over me.”

“Will you… feel like I do, too? Can you?” Her cheeks heated at the question, hating that she knew absolutely nothing about any of this.

“Yes, I’ll come. I’m going to come so deep inside of my girl. That’s what she wants, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” She whined.

“You’ve turned cock dumb, haven’t you? Just aching to taste my cum off my cock after I’ve destroyed you with it.”

“Fuck, please! Just fuck me, make yourself come. Please.”

“Do you want me to use you? Hm? Nothing but a little fuck hole for me? Is that right?”

“Yeah.” She gasped, sobbing.

“You give me one more. One more and I’ll fill you up with my cum.”

“I can’t!”

“Does it hurt?”

It was starting to hurt again, from the intrusion of his heavy thrusts and how often he’d played with her.

“Yes, captain.”

“And if I rub this poor little clit better?” He reached between them, his thumb pressed to her clit to rub firm circles. “How’s that?

“So good.” The words were barely registrable beneath her moans.

“So good,” He breathed out. “My good girl.”

“Yours.”

The sentiment ripped through him like a fierce wind that almost knocked him off of his feet. Yours.

He took her as hard as he possibly could, his chest burning at the exertion. He spat on her clit, though she hardly needed the extra moisture. He flicked, pinched, and rubbed at the sensitive bundle of nerves until she was a crying, shaking mess that exploded forcefully around his cock.

“Fuck, I love that. Messy girl, soaking me like that. So fucking pretty.”

She clawed at his chest, not caring when he hissed and winced at the sharp pain. She knew he liked it. Her cunt trembled relentlessly around him, drawing his own orgasm closer and closer.

“I want it.” She whined as he hugged himself to her, arms wrapped around her to keep her where he wanted.

“You want my cum?” He moaned in her ear, her body his own heaven. “Gonna fill this tight little cunt up with it. Are you gonna take it? Yeah?”

“I’ll take it!”

“All of it? Do you promise?”

“I—I promise, captain.”

“Gonna make you keep it inside of you.”

“Oh, fuck—“

He didn’t know much of how her body worked but hoped that leaving part of his own would become something more. Any sense of permanency on this fucking island was welcomed, especially if it was with her.

“Will you let me stay here? With you?”

“I’d never let you leave anyway, sailor.”

Days ago such words would have him cowering in fear. But hearing them now… it did unspeakable things to him. Spurred his orgasm from a soft tingle to a crackling fire.

“I’ll stay.” He whimpered against her lips. “Fuck you right here until I’m drowning in you. Make you take my cum and keep it inside of you until I’m hard again.” He grunted, fucking her so hard that his teeth were vibrating. “You like that? You want to keep my spent dick inside of you until I’m ready to fuck you again?”

She cried out at the sheer power behind his driving thrusts, his cock achingly hard inside of her, pulsing and throbbing as he neared his end.

“Give it to me, captain. Please let me have your cum.”

Her voice was soft, wispy dreams sent gliding over foggy waters.

He burst inside of her with a loud moan, one that careened in soft echoes around the cove. She gasped at the feel of his cum coating her used walls, her cunt rippling at the sensation. He was beautiful as it was, let alone when he was coming.

His expression was one of undiluted bliss, though he almost looked as if he were in pain. His soft lips parted to allow her the view of his two front teeth, his brow furrowed, sweat dripping from his temples in gentle beads.

She cupped his cheek, her heart breaking at what he wished he had been promised.

His eyes found hers as he came down, staying deep inside of her, his hands flexing against her sides.

Her skin felt cold, he noticed. Far more icy than what he’d felt before. Abnormally so.

“Am I dreaming?” He asked, his voice not sounding like his own. His chest burned as if the air had been ripped from them, abruptly and harshly. He coughed, unable to find a source of oxygen even though he was here… on the beach.

He blinked, the sun disappearing. It was all grey, a deep haze as his eyes struggled to adjust. The waves lapped at his body as the tied came in, swarming at his skin like it was magnetised to him.

“Yes, sailor. You are.” Her voice. Cold and evil. The tune pierced through her words. He opened his eyes and the sting in them was immense. He screamed in pain, only for water to invade his mouth and nose, filling his lungs.

The cove was stripped away, in its place a deeply submerged trench. One that he had been somehow forged into.

And her. His siren. Her eyes dark pits, her scales shimmering with divine wickedness. Her tail swirling through currents she knew how to hold. He was drowning. He had drowned. He could not tell what was real, only that his body was no longer part of him.

Her hand reached out to him, touching his forehead as she had on the beach.

And he saw flashes. Flashes of the cove shrouded in gold. Flashes of her body and his body. Their joining. Flashes of death and suffering. Flashes of his ship and an angry storm that took it.

He had not left his ship.

He had gone down with it.

***

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@keepdrivingkisses @lolyouallsuck @victoria-styles @harrysonlylover

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles filth #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #hslot #smut #hes #anon #pirate #piratesmut

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