#i desperately need a wrist strap tho. the neck strap and i are NOT friends.

[gendzl]

my brother got me to start taking photos again and now I've gone back to carrying my camera everywhere I go and annoying everyone around me. it's awesome. easiest art form, honestly.

[bopbopstyles]

hey! can you write something about a kink of asking harry to hit you in the face? just asking him to slap your face and then he calls you a whore i know i'm weird. thank you so much :)

u are not weird!!! this is a common kink that when done consensually is 100% okay imo :) kinksame, bruh. i have not personally done this tho, so my response to this is going to based entirely off of my imagination. enjoy!

also i was mid-way through writing this and saw this gif which i’ve incorporated so enjoy.

warning: face slapping, slight degradation (consensual)

You couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

The idea had started when you were at a girl’s night with your best friends and someone brought up fantasies. One of your other friends mentions face slapping, and suddenly the thought wouldn’t leave your mind. 

It wasn’t like your sex life with Harry wasn’t good, either. You two experimented a bit in the bedroom, but your boyfriend was such a softie that anything too harsh had him hesitating. When he’d slapped your ass for the first time, he’d asked you three times if you were okay before doing it again. So you knew if it wasn’t going to happen (which you desperately wanted it to) if would have to be on your suggestion. 

You had been horny all fucking day. Harry had been in conference call after conference call, but you had a day off (a “skeleton day” you boss called it, where work was optional, and you never worked if you didn’t have to). Usually on days like these you took advantage of Harry being less busy than you, and would end up in and out of bed all day. But today, he paid you very little attention and you were about to go into your bedroom and take care of it yourself. 

When the clock struck five o’clock you decided enough was enough. You knew how to make Harry pay attention to you, how to press all of his buttons, how to get him horny in under ten seconds. So, you went into your shared bedroom and stripped off all your clothes and replaced you regular bra and underwear with a lacy black set he’d bought you that left very little to the imagination. Then, you went into the closet and picked through the shirts on his side, before settling on a light blue silk button down that would bring out the blue in your eyes. You pulled it on, leaving it unbuttoned except for one in the middle of your stomach and tugged your hair from its bun.

You wanted to have some fun tonight, and Harry was going to give it to you. 

He was still in his office, but you didn’t hear the sound of his voice, instead just the click of computer keys. You pushed open the door which was ajar, and stepped into the room, drawing Harry’s eyes up to you. 

His Adam’s apple bobbed--you could see it from where you stood--as he took in your appearance. Then, in a gravely voice he said, “’s that my shirt?”

“It is.” You took steps towards him, keeping his eyes on yours while you moved. “Was hoping you could take it off.”

“Fuck,” he breathed as you rounded the corner of his desk, stopping a pace away from him. “Yeah, I can do that, love.”

His hands reached out and you closed the distance, so they rested on the skin of your hips. His fingers pressed in a bit harshly, the cold of his rings singing your flushed skin and you loved it. He crept up your torso, the callused pads of his fingers brushing over you as he reached the button. When he popped it, the shirt fell open, the lace over your breasts coming into to full view. 

A low groan left Harry’s mouth as he took in the sight in front of him. “Didn’t pay any attention to you today, ‘s that it? That why I’m gettin’ such a treat?”

You brushed at his jaw, looking down at the harsh lines of his face. “I’ve been waiting all day,” you whispered and Harry gulped at your words. “Nearly soaked through my underwear at the thought of you.”

That had Harry standing up and pulling you up, your legs fitting around his waist as he carried you out of his office. Your lips pulled and prodded at the tender skin of his neck, nipping and drawing moans from him as you worked a bruise onto the side of neck, the one on the side you slept on so you could wake up in the morning and it be the first thing you saw. He was holding your hips so tightly you wondered if there’d be an imprint of his hand afterwards, but you didn’t mind. 

Kind of liked it, actually. 

He kicked open the door to your room and dropped you to the bed, the duvet puffing up around you. “You,” he said between harsh kisses to your lips, “are going to be,” you moaned when his fingers pushed at your bra strap, “the death of me.”

His shirt was pooling at your wrists, and your chest was rising and falling under his touch. You knew this is when you had to mention what you wanted, otherwise you would be far too gone to have this conversation with him. “H,” you said, drawing his eyes from your chest to your face. “I want to try something.”

His eyebrows quirked. “Okay.”

“I want you to slap me.”

“Your ass? Already do that.” He leaned back in to kiss you, but you pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him.

“My face.”

Your words fell like bricks in the quiet room. His eyes widened and you could see his body still at the prospect of what you wanted. “What?”

“I want you to slap my face,” you said and each time you said it you were more sure it was what you wanted. 

But Harry was conflicted, you could see it written all over his face. “Y/N, I don’t know...”

“Want you to,” you said again, brushing at his chest delicately. “But if you don’t feel comfortable with it, we don’t have to. I know it’s a lot.”

Harry’s eyes flickered across your face, considering the idea. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

You softened, a small smile forming on your lips. “You won’t. And I’ll tell you if it’s too much--promise.”

His fingers brushed across the smooth skin of your cheek, a loving touch you leaned into. “Okay,” he finally said. “But I need you to communicate with me? Tell me if you want more or less, all that.”

You nodded. But there was one more thing, one more thing that had been floating around in your head. “There’s one more thing.” Harry’s chin dipped, encouraging you to speak. “Can you call me names?”

His head quirked to the side. “Names?”

“Like...mean names.”

That same sharp exhale as before fell between you. "Mean names? Like what?”

He was going to make you spell it out, wasn’t he? “Whore.” You could feel a blush rising on your cheeks as the word left your mouth. 

You watched as Harry gnawed on his bottom lip, considering the request. But then, he nodded, ever so slightly. “I’ll do it,” he said, “but I want you to know that I don’t mean it outside of this scenario. Okay? You hear me?” You nodded, and Harry brushed at your cheeks again. “Any other requests?”

“You’ve got too many clothes on.”

That had Harry laughing, breaking the tension between you. “Well, I can take care of that.” He tugged at the buttons that secured his long-sleeved button down around his wrists, unfastening them. You watched and honestly, it was really fucking hot. When he slipped the shirt off, your hands were on him immediately, running over his exposed skin. Then he pushed off his pants, leaving him in just his underwear in front of him. “Better?”

“Much.” You crawled back on the bed, leaving the shirt of his you were wearing on the floor next to his pile of clothes. Harry followed you, tugging at your ankle when you got too far away, a yelp drawing from your chest that had you both laughing. You adored this part about sex with Harry--it was filled with moments like these that made you love him even more. 

He pushed your legs up and fit his hips between then, his dick resting innocently against your clothed center, and let your legs fall to either side of him. He was resting on his ankles, lips pink from kissing you, eyes blown out in desire as he took in the sight of you, barely clothed, sprawled out in front of him. Fucking goddess, you were, and he told you. “You want me to tell you before I do it?” He asked, fingers running circles over your thighs. 

You considered his words. “No, surprise me.”

Harry nodded, and then he was bending at the waist, licking over your nipples, the wet of his saliva soaking through the lace on your chest. Your breath heaved in your chest, desperate for more, anything more he would give you. “H, please.” He peeked up at you and knew what you wanted immediately. 

He reached behind your chest, hands smushed between your back and the bed, and unclasped your bra, tossing the material to the side without a care in the world. Then, he tugged your underwear and you lifted your legs up so he could pull them off. When he shifted, his dick nudged against you, the only thing between you being his boxers. And it was torture. You moaned wantonly, unable to contain yourself, and pulled at his arms wanting him closer. 

He met your lips with passion, drawing and pulling at your lips as he ground his hips into yours. You could feel him rock hard and you knew your wetness was all over his boxers. But all you could think was when was he going to do it? The anticipation was killing you. 

“Dripping for me,” he mumbled into your skin, his voice dropping an octave as he nipped at your bottom lip. “Feel that, baby? Goin’ to make me cum in my boxers.”

“H,” you panted, gripping his torso. You needed more, anything he could give you. 

He pulled away, and you had only met his eyes with yours when you felt the impact on your cheek. You realized he hadn’t taken off his rings, and you could feel the cut of them on your skin, the impact of metal on your face sending shock waves through you. 

And then, his words dripped into the space between you. “Squirming like a little whore underneath me, hmm? Want me to fuck you?” 

Your mind was a mess. Your breath was coming in pants, trying to absorb everything that was happening, the pain that had softened on your skin that had you pushing your face into his hand, desperate for more. His words made you buck your hips up, as if to say, Yes, please, yes. 

He bent towards you, and whispered in your ear, “’s that okay, angel?”

Checking in on you. Your sweet, sweet love. “Yeah,” you said, “felt good.”

“Want another?”

“Please.”

Harry wasted no time, delivered another sharp smack to your cheek. It wasn’t hard, not too intense where your head snapped to the side or anything. But it was enough to leave a sting, enough for you to moan his name and pull at his neck, reconnecting your lips. You wondered what your skin looked like, if it was red, if you could see the outlines of his rings. Kind of liked the idea, if you were being honest. 

“Fuck me,” you begged when he licked at your neck. “Please.”

He sucked at the juncture of your jaw and neck and you gasped, putty in his hands. “Yeah? My little whore wants me to fuck her?” You nodded, hands clenching in his hair. With a searing kiss to your lips, he pulled away. “Okay, baby.”

He turned, pushing his boxer briefs down and off his legs, before returning to you on the bed. Your legs moved to rest on etiher side of his hips, finding a home hooked around his beck. He didn’t waste any time--he pushed straight into you, burying himself to the hilt inside of you.

You both groaned from the feeling, your wetness making the slide easy. Harry’s head hung as he tried to hold himself together, and you couldn’t help yourself--you swiveled your hips up, wanting more. “Uh-huh,” he said though, holding your hips to the bed with his hand. “None of that. Goin’ to take what I give you, yeah?”

Your chin dipped, nodding fervently. You would do anything for him. And then he pulled out and back in, your walls gripping him tightly. Fingernails dug into his shoulders as you panted his name, curses falling from your lips without abandon. That’s when he let go, snapping his hips to yours in a fast rhythm, letting both of you chase your releases. You were close already, the foreplay leaving you squirming on the bed. 

Sweat dripped down both of your bodies as Harry pushed in and out of you, your legs shaking on his hips. His hand that wasn’t holding your hips down rested at the side of your head to hold his body up, and you watched in fascination as his muscles rippled under his skin, his biceps and shoulders tense and release with the movement of his hips. 

All you could hear were the noises between you, his hips hitting yours, the bed creaking, your wetness squelching between you, but you didn’t care in the slightest. It was the sound of you, the sound of him loving you in every way. “H,” you mumbled, hooking your arms around his neck. “Want you to come with me.”

As much as you were putty for him, he was wrapped around your finger in every shape and form. The foreplay you’d requested was surprisingly something he enjoyed, but it was all for you--he would do anything you asked. So when you requested him to come with you, it was a dream he didn’t want to wake up from.  “You goin’ to come for me, baby?”

The roughness of his words from before were gone, but you didn’t mind. You loved his tender petnames, the way his head sagged and he kissed at your breasts, leaving marks you’d prod at tomorrow and remember with a smile. 

“Come for me,” he begged, pistoning in and out of you with a a fervor. “Need it. I want to come with you, but need to feel you. Can you do that for me?” He was mumbling words without even processing what they were, his mind on fire. “Can you come for me? Promise I’ll come too. Fuck, I promise. love.” 

He fell to his elbow, chest pressed against yours as he kissed you. The closeness is what pushed you over the edge, the. desperation in his voice. You were clawing at his back, gasping his name, walls clenching tight around him as you came. The feeling of you around him had his hips stuttering, with one more push and then he was coming inside of you, shaking as he collapsed fully onto your body. 

Both of you gasped for breath, pulling in air as you fell from your highs. He stayed inside of you, both loving the feeling of closeness it provided. You scratched at his scalp and then down his spine, calming him and he did the same to your arms. You were both touch-starved people and needed the same thing after sex--soft brushes of skin, simple kisses, just a minute or two to gather yourselves. 

When you had, his head lifted to look at you. “How was that?” 

He was checking in, making sure he had done what you asked and not too much. His eyes were warm, full of adoration. “Perfect,” you told him, pushing at a curl on his forehead. “Did you like it?”

His elbows pushed him up so he could hover over your face. “Yeah, actually.” 

You smiled. “Guess we’ll have to do it every once and a while, then.”

He nudged at your jaw and pressed an open mouthed kiss there, smacking against your skin. “Good thing you’re so damn demanding, huh?”

You laughed, pushing at his head, and he quirked at smile at you, eyes as wild as yours. You two were made for each, you thought as you looked at him. Perfectly designed. 

wow this became long really fast

hope you liked it, anon!!!!!